A March of Kings (Book #2 in the Sorcerer's Ring)

put a name to the face.

But Godfrey was serious. He was focused. This time, he would not be distracted.
“I think he was going somewhere,” Godfrey added, thinking out loud. “I think they were both going somewhere. And I think it was with ill intent.”
He turned and stared at his two friends.
“And I think it has something to do with my father’s death

I want to leave this place. A part of me wants to never come back. I hate all of this. I don’t know where it will all end. But I feel that it must all end tragically. In death. Betrayal. Assassination. I hate this court. I hate being royalty. I wish I could live a simple life

Her words lingered in the air, and as Thor really thought about that, he realized Gwen was much wiser than he thought. He realized in that moment what a good ruler she would, in fact, make. It upset him all the more that she was passed over, that her father’s wish was ignored

As Thor had watched Gareth sit in it, that throne seemed more like a gilded prison than a seat of power. It was not a seat, Thor discovered, that he would ever want for himself.
Thor was reminded of MacGil’s final words, about his own destiny being greater than the king’s had been. He shuddered; he prayed he had not meant Thor would ever be king—not here, not anywhere. Politics did not interest him. Thor wanted to be a great warrior. He wanted glory. He wanted to fight beside his brothers-in-arms, to help others in need. That was all. He wanted to be a leader of men in the realm of battle—but not outside of it. He could not help but feel that every leader who strived for power somehow ended up corrupted in the process

of their attention.
He passed his siblings, standing together. Godfrey, Kendrick, Gwendolyn, and Reece. Beside Reece was that boy, Thor. All of them, thorns in his side. No matter. He would do away with them soon enough. As soon as he assumed the throne, as soon as he took power, he would deal with each in his own way. After all, who better than he to know that the worst enemies are those closest to you.
Gareth passed his mother, the Queen, who stared down at him with a disapproving glance. He didn’t need her approval now, or ever again. Now he was her King. Now she would have to answer to him.

Thor stood at the head of a ship—a huge, wooden warship, its bow crashing deep into the ocean then rising high, waves crashing all around him. Thor stood at the helm, and before him flew Estopheles, still carrying the king’s crown. In the distance there appeared an island, rising out of the sea, covered in a mist. And beyond that, a flame in the sky. The sky was filled with dark purple clouds, the two suns sitting near each other.
Thor heard a horrific roar and knew this was the Isle of Mist

Kendrick laughed and Thor laughed, too. Then Kendrick looked at him with all seriousness.
“My father did not take people under his wing lightly. He saw something great in you. I see it, too. You will make us proud. Go to The Hundred and excel. Go and become the warrior that I know you will be.”

The Hundred is the Legion’s way of making us all hardened warriors—and weeding us out. It is a rite of passage. Every year, at summertime, they send us for a hundred days of the most grueling training you’ll ever know. Some of us will return. Those who do are granted honors, weapons, and a permanent place in the Legion.”
Thor looked around, still puzzled. “But why are you packing?”
“Because the Hundred is not here,” Elden explained. “They ship us off. Literally. Far from here. We must journey across the Canyon, into the Wilds, across the Tartuvian Sea, and all the way to the Isle of Mist. It is a hundred days of hell. We all dread it. But we must go through it, if we are to stay in the Legion

McCloud studied him, wondering. Andronicus’ eyes were inscrutable, large and yellow and flashing; he had no idea what he was thinking.
“And what’s in it for you?” McCloud asked.
Andronicus smiled.
“Of course, once our army helps you overtake the Ring, then the Ring will be part of the Empire. You will be one of our sovereign territories. You will have to answer to me, but you will be free to run it as you wish. I will allow you to rule all of the Ring. You will keep all the spoils for yourself. We both win.”
McCloud studied him, rubbing his beard.
“But if I gain all the spoils and can rule it as I wish, what do you gain