A Forge of Valor Read Free Page B

armor, filled the beach, charging for the mound of rubble. These men were well trained, well armed, and rested—unlike her father’s men, who numbered but a few hundred, with crude weapons and all already wounded.
    It would, she knew, be a slaughter.
    And yet her father didn’t turn back. She was never more proud of him than she was in that moment. There he stood, so proud, his men gathered around him, all ready to rush down to meet the enemy, even though it would mean a sure death. It was, for her, the very embodiment of valor.
    As he stood there, before he descended, he turned and looked at Dierdre with a look of such love. There was a goodbye in his eyes, as if he knew he would never see her again. Dierdre was confused—her sword was in hand, and she was preparing to charge with him. Why would he be saying goodbye to her now?
    She suddenly felt strong hands grab her from behind, felt herself yanked backwards, and she turned to see two of her father’s trusted commanders grabbing her. A group of his men also grabbed her three remaining girls, and Marco and his friends. She bucked and protested, but it was no use.
    “Let me go!” she screamed.
    They ignored her protests as they dragged her away, clearly at her father’s command. She caught one last look at her father before he led his men down the other side of the rubble in a great battle cry.
    “Father!” she cried.
    She felt torn apart. Just as she was truly admiring the father she loved again, he was being taken from her. She wanted to be with him desperately. But he was already gone.
    Dierdre found herself thrown on a small boat, and immediately the men began rowing down the canal, away from the sea. The boat turned again and again, cutting through the canals, heading toward a secret side opening in one of the walls. Before them loomed a low stone arch, and Dierdre recognized immediately where they were going: the underground river. It was a raging current on the other side of that wall, and it would lead them far away from the city. She would emerge somewhere many miles away from here, safe and sound in the countryside.
    All her girls turned to look to her, as if wondering what they should do. Dierdre came to an immediate decision. She pretended to acquiesce to the plan, so that they would all go. She wanted them all to escape, to be free from this place.
    Dierdre waited until the last moment, and just before they entered, she leapt from the boat, landing in the waters of the canal. Marco, to her surprise, noticed her and jumped, too. That left only the two of them floating in the canal.
    “Dierdre!” shouted her father’s men.
    They turned to grab her—but it was too late. She had timed it perfectly, and they were already caught up in the gushing currents, sweeping their boat away.
    Dierdre and Marco turned and swam quickly for an abandoned boat, boarding it. They sat there, dripping wet, and stared at each other, each breathing hard, exhausted.
    Dierdre turned and looked back to where they had come from, to the heart of Ur, where she had left her father’s side. It was there she would go, there and nowhere else, even if it meant her death.

CHAPTER THREE
     
     
    Merk stood at the entrance to the hidden chamber, on the top floor of the Tower of Ur, Pult, the traitor, lying dead at his feet, and he stared into the shining light. The door ajar, he could not believe what he saw.
    Here it was, the sacred chamber, on the most protected floor, the one and only room designed to hold and guard the Sword of Fire. Its door was carved with the insignia of the sword and its stone walls, too, had the sword’s insignia carved into them. It was this room, and this room alone, that the traitor had wanted, to steal the most sacred relic of the kingdom. If Merk had not caught him and killed him, who knows where the Sword would be now?
    As Merk stared into the room, its stone walls smooth, shaped in a circle, as he stared into the shining light, he began to see that