An Oath of Brothers by Morgan Rice Page A

man that you pretend to be, but are not. Age does not make the man. Valor does.”
    Zirk reddened, scowling at him, and tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword.
    “So says the cripple,” Zirk replied, stepping threateningly toward him.
    Bokbu emerged from the crowd and held out a palm, stopping Zirk.
    “Don’t you see what the Empire is doing to us?” Bokbu said. “They create division amongst us. But we are one people. United under one cause. They are the enemy, not us. Now more than ever we see that we must unite.”
    Zirk rested his hands on his hips and glared at Darius.
    “You are just a foolish boy with fancy words,” he said. “You can never defeat the Empire. Never. And we are not united. I disapprove of your actions today—we all do,” he said, gesturing to half the elders and a large group of villagers. “Uniting with you is uniting with death. And we intend to survive.”
    “And how do you intend to do that?” Desmond asked back angrily, standing by Darius’s side.
    Zirk reddened and remained silent, and it was clear to Darius that he had no plan, just like all the others, that he was speaking out of fear, frustration, and helplessness.
    Bokbu finally stepped forward, between them, breaking the tension. All eyes turned to him.
    “You are both right and you are both wrong,” he said. “What matters now is the future. Darius, what is your plan?”
    Darius felt all eyes turn to him in the thick silence. He thought, and slowly a plan formed in his mind. He knew there was but one route to take. Too much had happened for anything else.
    “We will take this war to the Empire’s doorstep,” he called out, invigorated. “Before they can regroup, we will make them pay. We will rally the other slave villages, we will form an army, and we will make them learn what it means to suffer. We might die, but we will all die as free men, fighting for our cause.”
    There came a great cheer out from behind Darius, from the majority of the villagers, and he could see most of them rallying behind him. A small group of them, rallying behind Zirk, looked back, unsure.
    Zirk, clearly infuriated and outnumbered, reddened, released his grip on his sword hilt, and turned and stormed off, disappearing into the crowd. A small group of villagers stormed off with him.
    Bokbu stepped forward and solemnly faced Darius, his face lined with worry, with age, with lines that had seen too much. He stared back at Darius, his eyes filled with wisdom. And with fear.
    “Our people turn to you to lead them now,” he said softly. “That is a very sacred thing. Do not lose their trust. You are young to lead an army. But the task has fallen upon you. You have started this war. Now, you must finish it.”
    *
    Gwendolyn stepped forward as the villagers began to dissipate, Kendrick and Sandara by her side, Steffen, Brandt, Atme, Aberthol, Stara, and dozens of her men behind her. She looked upon Darius with respect, and she could see the gratitude in his eyes for her decision to come to his aid on the battlefield today. After their victory, she felt vindicated; she knew she had made the right decision, however hard it had been. She had lost dozens of her men here today, and she mourned their loss. Yet she also knew that, had she not turned around, Darius and all the others standing here would certainly be dead.
    Seeing Darius standing there, so bravely facing off against the Empire, made her think of Thorgrin, and her heart broke as she thought of him. She felt determined to reward Darius’s bravery, whatever the cost.
    “We stand here ready to support your cause,” Gwendolyn said. She commanded the attention of Darius, Bokbu, and all the others, as all the remaining villagers turned to her. “You took us in when we needed it—and we stand here ready to support you when you need it. We lend our arms to yours, our cause to yours. After all, it is one cause. We wish to return to our homeland in freedom—you wish to liberate your