A Joust of Knights (Book #16 in the Sorcerer's Ring) by Morgan Rice

have been to every healer,” he
replied. “The finest in the kingdom, of course. They have no cure. It is a
cancer spreading throughout me.”
    He sighed and looked off to the horizon,
and Gwen felt overwhelmed with sadness for him. Why was it, she wondered, that the
good people were often beset with tragedy—while the evil ones somehow managed
to flourish?
    “I hold no pity for myself,” the King
added. “I accept my fate. What concerns me now is not myself—but my legacy. My
children. My kingdom. That is all that matters to me now. I cannot plan my own
future, but at least I can plan theirs.”
    He turned to her.
    “And that is why I have summoned you.”
    Gwen’s heart broke for him, and she knew
she would do anything she could to help him.
    “As much as I am willing,” she replied,
“I see not how I can be of help to you. You have an entire kingdom at your
disposal. What can I possibly offer that others cannot?”
    He sighed.
    “We share the same goals,” he said. “You
wish to see the Empire defeated—so do I. You wish for a future for your family,
your people, a place of safety and security, far from the grips of the Empire—as
do I. Of course, we have that peace here, now, in the shelter of the Ridge. But
this is not a true peace. Free people can go anywhere—we cannot. We are not
living free as much as we are hiding. There is an important difference.”
    He sighed.
    “Of course, we live in an imperfect
world, and this may be the best our world has to offer. But I think not.”
    He fell silent for a long while, and
Gwen wondered where he was going with this.
    “We live our lives in fear, as my father
did before me,” he finally continued, “fear that we will be discovered, that the
Empire will find us here in the Ridge, that they will arrive here, bring war to
our doorstep. And warriors should never live in fear. There is a fine line
between guarding your castle and being afraid to walk out openly from it. A
great warrior can fortify his gates and defend his castle—but an even greater
warrior can open them wide and fearlessly face whoever knocks.”
    He turned to her, and she could see a
kingly determination in his eyes, could feel him emanating strength—and in that
moment, she understood why he was King.
    “Better to die facing the enemy, boldly,
than to wait safely for him to come to our gates.”
    Gwen was baffled.
    “You wish, then,” she said, “to attack
the Empire?”
    He stared back, and she still could not
understand his expression, what was racing through his mind.
    “I do,” he replied. “But it is an
unpopular position. It was, too, an unpopular position for my ancestors before
me, which is why they never did. You see, safety and bounty has a way of softening
a people, making them reluctant to give up what they have. If I launched a war,
I would have many fine knights behind me—but also, many reluctant citizens. And
perhaps, even, a revolution.”
    Gwen looked out and squinted at the
peaks of the Ridge, looming on the distant horizon, with the eye of a Queen, of
the professional strategist she had become.
    “It seems it would be next to impossible
for the Empire to attack you,” she replied, “even if they did somehow find you.
How could they even scale those walls? Cross that lake?”
    He placed his hands on his hips and
looked out and studied the horizon with her.
    “We would certainly have the advantage,”
he replied. “We could kill a hundred of theirs for every one of ours. But the
problem is, they have millions to spare—we have thousands. Eventually, they
will win.”
    “Would they sacrifice millions for a
small corner of the Empire?” she asked, knowing the answer before she even
asked it. After all, she had witnessed firsthand what they had given up to
attack the Ring.
    “They are ruthless for conquest,” he
said. “They would sacrifice anything. That is their way. They would never give
up. That is what I know.”
    “Then how can I help, my liege?”