The Sorcerer's Ring: Book 05 - A Vow of Glory

The Sorcerer's Ring: Book 05 - A Vow of Glory by Morgan Rice Page A

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Authors: Morgan Rice
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man was not exaggerating—and Thor suspected he was
not—then he was grateful to have found this shelter, and for the man's
hospitality. He didn’t want to contemplate what might have happened if they had
been outside during that time.
    "Then
we are most grateful for your warning, and for your hospitality," Thor
said. “Thank you for having us.”
    The old
man shrugged.
    "It's
nice to have company once in a while. Especially from the Ring. I spent the
better part of my youth there. Lovely place.”
    Thor’s
eyes opened wide in surprise; this man had been to the Ring?
    "And
then what are you doing here?" O'Connor asked.
    The
man looked down, waited several seconds, and lapsed into silence.
    "I'm
sorry," O'Connor said. "I didn't mean to pry.”
    The
old man remained silent for a while more, then finally, took a deep breath.
    "I
was young, a tragedy struck in my life. I thought the best thing to do was to
start clean. I thought I’d head out west, beyond the Canyon, sail across the
Tartuvian for the Empire, head into the wilds. I suppose at the time a part of
me had been hoping to get killed. My woes engulfed me, and it was the easy way
out.
    “But
that did not turn out to be the case. Somehow, I survived. And then I grew fond
of surviving. I have lived here alone, for all these years—until the arrival of
my grandson. Now I have something to live for. And despite all the animals, I
have grown to like it here. I have traveled across the entire Empire, have seen
places and things you can hardly imagine. It is a vast, vast Empire, dwarfing
the Ring in comparison. You have not lived until you've seen it all. Not just
the Empire proper, and not just the islands. But also the Land of the Dragons.
And the Land of the Druids.”
    "The
Land of the Druids?" Thor asked, sitting up, shaking off his sleepiness.
"Have you been there?”
    The
man nodded.
    "As
close as you can come. It is a magical place. There are many magical places in
the Empire. It has all been ruined by Andronicus, by his army, which is
everywhere. His patrols are ever-present, which is why I had to come out here,
deep in the jungle. Anyone caught by them is captured and taken either as a
soldier or as a slave. His army of slaves is in fact bigger than his army of
soldiers. He has to dominate everything, every last soul.”
    The
old man sighed.
    “I
have gotten quite good at hiding from his men. They have never caught me—and they
never will. Or my grandson. I want it that way. That's why I'm wary of new
visitors, like yourself. I don't want anyone to give me away.”
    Thor
and the others looked at each other, taken aback by the man’s story.
    "Can
you tell us what you know of the Sword?" Thor asked.
    The
man looked long at Thor, then finally looked away.
    "I
saw a dozen men the other day. Also from the Ring. They moved awkwardly through
the jungle. They were accompanied by several warriors, a formidable force. They
left a broad trail. Easy to follow. Although of course the jungle consumes
itself every day, so unless a trail is fresh it will disappear. But I watched
them. I know where they went.”
    "And
where was that?" Reece asked.
    Thor
thought he saw something like fear in the man’s eyes.
    "They
took the road to Slave City.”
    "Slave
City?" Elden echoed.
    The
old man nodded.
    "About
ten miles west of here. We’re at the edge of the jungle here. There's only one
road there. But I warn you: Slave City is aptly named. There are hundreds of
thousands of them. All indentured servants, all serving Andronicus. And just as
many guards. Venture there, and you won’t get out.”
    "But
why would they take the Sword there?" Conval asked.
    "I
didn’t say they were taking it there,” he said. “I said they were heading down
that road. They could be going anywhere.”
    "Then
we shall follow them at first light," Thor said.
    The
old man shook his head.
    "To
enter Slave City is to give yourself up for capture. Especially with such a
small fighting force as your own.

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