A Sea of Shields
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Srog leaned back and clasped a beefy hand on Reece’s shoulder.
“You resemble your father too much as you grow older,” he said warmly.
Reece smiled.
“I hope that’s a good thing.”
“It is indeed,” Srog replied. “There was no finer man. I would have walked through fire for him.”
Srog turned and led Reece through the hall, all of his men falling in behind them as they wound their way through the fort.
“You are a most welcome face to see here in this miserable place,” Srog said. “I am grateful to your sister for sending you.”
“It seems I have chosen a bad day to visit,” Reece said as they passed an open-air window, rain lashing a few feet away.
Srog smirked.
“Every day is a bad day here,” he answered. “Yet it can also change on a dime. They say the Upper Islands experience all four seasons in a single day – and I have come to see that it is true.”
Reece looked outside at a small, empty castle courtyard, populated with a handful of ancient stone buildings, gray, ancient, which looked like they blended into the rain. Few people were outside, and those that were lowered their heads against the wind and hurried from one place to the next. This island seemed to be a lonely and desolate place.
“Where are all the people?” Reece asked.
Srog sighed.
“The Upper Islanders stay indoors. They keep to themselves. They are spread out. This place is not like Silesia, or King’s Court. Here, they live all over the island. They do not congregate in cities. They are an odd, reclusive people. Stubborn and hardened – like the weather.”
Srog led Reece down a corridor and they turned a corner and entered the Great Hall.
In the room sat a dozen of Srog’s men, soldiers with their boots and armor on, glumly sitting around a table near a fire. Dogs slept around the fire, and the men ate hunks of meat and threw the scraps to the dogs. They looked up at Reece and grunted.
Srog led Reece to the fire. Reece rubbed his hands before the flames, grateful for its warmth.
“I know you haven’t much time before your ship departs,” Srog said. “But I at least wanted to send you off with some warmth and dry clothes.”
An attendant approached and handed Reece a set of dry clothes and mail, exactly his size. Reece looked at Srog with surprise and gratitude as he peeled off his wet clothes and replaced them with these.
Srog smiled. “We treat our own well here,” he said. “I figured you’d need it, given this place.”
“Thank you,” Reece said, already feeling much warmer. “I’ve never needed it more.” He had been dreading sailing back in wet clothes, and this was exactly what he’d needed.
Srog began talking politics, a long monologue, and Reece nodded politely, pretending to listen. But deep down, Reece was distracted. He was still overwhelmed with thoughts of Stara, and he could not shake her from his mind. He could not stop thinking of their encounter, and every time he thought of her, his heart fluttered with excitement.
He also could not stop thinking, with dread, of the task that lay ahead of him on the mainland, of telling Selese – and everyone else – that the wedding was off. He did not want to hurt her. But he did not see what choice he had.
“Reece?” Srog repeated.
Reece blinked and looked over at him.
“Did you hear me?” Srog asked.
“I’m sorry,” Reece said. “What was that?”
“I said, I take it your sister has received my dispatches?” Srog asked.
Reece nodded, trying to focus.
“Indeed,” Reece replied. “Which is why she sent me here. She asked me to check in with you, to hear firsthand what was happening.”
Srog sighed, staring into the flames.
“I’ve been here six moons now,” he said, “and I can tell you, the Upper Islanders are not like us. They are MacGils in name only. They lack the qualities of your father. They are not just stubborn – they are not to be trusted. They sabotage the Queen’s ships daily; in fact, they sabotage everything we do here. They don’t want us here. They don’t want any part of the mainland – unless they are invading it, of course. To live in harmony, I have concluded, is just not their way.”
Srog sighed.
“We waste our time here. Your sister should withdraw. Leave them to their own fate.”
Reece nodded, listening, rubbing his hands before the fire, when suddenly, the sun broke free from the clouds, and the dark, wet weather morphed to a clear, shining summer day. A distant horn sounded.
“Your ship!” Srog cried out. “We must go. You must set sail before the weather returns. I will see you off.”
Srog led Reece out a side door in the fort, and Reece was amazed as he squinted in the bright sunlight. It was as if the perfect summer day had returned again.
Reece and Srog walked quickly, side by side, followed by several of Srog’s men, rocks crunching beneath their boots as they navigated the hills and made their way down winding trails toward the distant shore below. They passed gray boulders and rock-lined hills and cliffs peppered with goats that clung to the hillsides and chewed at weeds. As they neared the shore, all around them bells tolled from the water, warning ships of lifting fog.
“I can see firsthand the conditions you are dealing with,” Reece finally said as they walked. “They are not easy. You have held things together here for far longer than others would have, I’m sure. You have done well here. I will be sure to tell the Queen.”
Srog nodded back in appreciation.
“I appreciate your saying that,” he said.
“What is the source of this people’s discontent?” Reece asked. “They are free, after all. We mean them no harm – in fact, we bring them supplies and protection.”
Srog shook his head.
“They will not rest until Tirus is free. They consider it a personal shame on them that their leader is imprisoned.”
“Yet they are lucky he only sits in prison, and has not been executed for his betrayals.”
Srog nodded.
“True. But these people do not understand that.”
“And if we freed him?” Reece asked. “Would that set them at peace?”
Srog shook his head.
“I doubt it. I believe that would only embolden them for some other discontent.”
“Then what is to be done?” Reece asked.
Srog sighed.
“Abandon this place,” he said. “And as quickly as possible. I don’t like what I see. I sense a revolt stirring.”
“Yet we vastly outnumber them in men and ships.”
Srog shook his head.
“That is all but an illusion,” he said. “They are well organized. We are on their ground. They have a million subtle ways of sabotage we cannot anticipate. We are sitting here in a den of snakes.”
“Not Matus, though,” Reece said.
“True,” Srog replied. “But he is the only one.”
There is one other, Reece thought. Stara. But he kept his thoughts close to himself. Hearing all of this made him want to rescue Stara, to take her out of this place as quickly as possible. He vowed that he would. But first he needed to sail back and settle his affairs. Then he could return for her.
As they stepped onto the sand, Reece looked up and saw the ship before him, his men waiting.
He stopped before it, and Srog turned to him and clasped his shoulder warmly.
“I will share all of this with Gwendolyn,” Reece said. “I will tell her your concerns. Yet I know she is determined with these isles. She views them as part of a greater strategy for the Ring. For now, at least, you must keep harmony here. Whatever it takes. What do you need? More ships? More men?”
Srog shook his head.
“All the men and ships in the world will not change these Upper Islanders. The only thing that will is the edge of the sword.”
Reece looked back, horrified.
“Gwendolyn would never slaughter innocents,” Reece said.
“I know that,” Srog replied. “Which is why, I suspect, many of our men will die.”
Chapter Nine
Stara stood on the parapets of her mother’s fort, a square stone fortress as ancient as the island, the place in which Stara had lived ever since her mother had died. Stara walked to the edge, grateful that the sun had finally broken free on this dramatic day, and looked out to the horizon, with unusually nice visibility, and watched Reece’s ship set sail in the distance. She watched his ship parting from the fleet, watched for as long as she possibly could as his boat drifted for the horizon, each lapping wave taking him farther and farther from her.
She could watch Reece’s ship all day, knowing he was on it. She couldn’t stand to see it go. She felt as if a part of her heart, a part of herself, were leaving the island.
Finally, after all these years in this lonely, awful, barren island, Stara felt overwhelmed with joy. Her meeting with Reece had made her feel alive again. It had restored an emptiness within her that she hadn’t even realized had been gnawing away at her all these years. Now that she knew that Reece would call off the wedding, that he would return for her, that the two of them would be wed, finally together forever, Stara felt that everything was going to be okay in the world. All the misery that she had put up with in her life would be worth it.
Of course, she had to admit, there was a small part of her that felt bad for Selese. Stara never wanted to hurt anyone else’s feelings. Yet at the same time, Stara also felt that her life was at stake, her future, her husband – and she also felt that it was only fair. After all, she, Stara, had known Reece her entire life, since they were kids. It was she who had been Reece’s first and only love. This new girl, Selese, barely knew Reece, and only for a short while. She certainly could not know him like Stara did.
Selese, Stara figured, would eventually get over it and find someone else. But Stara, if she lost him, would never get over it. Reece was her life. Her destiny. They were meant to be, they had been their whole lives. Reece was her man first, and if anything, the way she saw it, Selese was taking him away from her, and not the other way around. Stara was only taking back what was rightfully hers.
Regardless, Stara could not have made a different decision if she’d tried. Whatever her rational mind would have told her was right or wrong, she could not listen. Her whole life, everyone around her – and her own rational mind – had also told her it was wrong for cousins to be together. And even then, she could not listen. She absolutely loved and adored Reece. She always had. And nothing anyone would say or do could change that. She had to be with him. There was no other option in life.
As Stara stood there looking out, watching his ship become smaller on the horizon, she heard sudden footsteps, someone else on the fort’s roof, and she turned to see her brother, Matus, walking quickly toward her. She was pleased to see him, as always. Stara and Matus had practically been best friends their entire life. They had been outcasts from the rest of their family, from the rest of the Upper Islanders, Stara and Matus both despising their siblings, and their father. Stara thought of Matus and herself as being more refined, more noble, than the others; she saw her other family members as being treacherous, untrustworthy. It was as if she and Matus had their own little family within the family.
Stara and Matus lived here on separate floors in their mother’s fort, apart from the others, who lived in Tirus’s castle. Now that their father was in prison, their family was divided. Her other two brothers, Karus and Falus, blamed them. She could always trust Matus to have her back, though, and she was always there for him, too.
The two of them talked long and often of leaving the Upper Isles for the mainland, joining the other MacGils. And now, finally, all of that talk was beginning to feel like it might become a reality, especially with all the sabotage the Upper Islanders had been inflicting on Gwendolyn’s fleet. Stara could not stand the thought of living here any longer.
“My brother,” Stara greeted him, in a happy mood.
But Matus’s expression was unusually darkened, and she could see immediately that he was troubled by something.
“What is it?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”
He shook his head disapprovingly at her.
“I think you know what’s wrong, my sister,” he said. “Our cousin. Reece. What has happened between you two?”
Stara reddened and turned her back on Matus, looking back out at the ocean. She strained to see Reece’s ship in the distance, but it was already gone. A wave of anger rushed over her; she had missed the last glimpse of him.
“It is not your business,” she snapped.
Matus had always been disapproving of her relationship with her cousin, and she’d had enough. It was the one point of contention between them, and it threatened to drive them apart. She did not care what Matus – or anyone else – thought. It was none of their business, as far as she was concerned.
“You know he is set to marry, don’t you?” Matus asked her, accusing, coming up beside her.
Stara shook her head, as if to push the awful thought from her mind.
“He will not marry her,” she answered.
Matus looked surprised.
“And how do you know that?” he pressed.
She turned to him, determined.
“He told me. And Reece does not lie.”
Matus stared back, shocked. Then his expression darkened.
“Did you get him to change his mind then?”
She stared back, defiant, now angry herself.
“I did not need to convince him of anything,” she said. “It was what he wanted. What he chose. He loves me. He always has. And I love him.”
Matus frowned.
“And are you okay then to destroy this girl’s heart? Whoever she is?”
She scowled, not wanting to hear this.
“Reece loved me far longer than he loved this new girl.”
Matus would not relent.
“And what of all the carefully laid plans of the kingdom? You do realize that this is not just a wedding. It is political theater. A spectacle for the masses. Gwendolyn is Queen, and it is her wedding, too. The entire kingdom, and distant lands, will be there to watch. What will happen when Reece cancels? Do you think it will be taken lightly by the Queen? By all the MacGils? You will throw the entire Ring in disarray. You will set them all against us. Are your passions worth that much?”
Stara stared back at Matus, cold, hardening.
“Our love is stronger than any spectacle. Than any kingdom. You would not understand. You have never had love like ours.”
Now Matus reddened. He shook his head, clearly furious.
“You are making the gravest mistake of your life,” he said. “And of Reece’s. You are going to bring down everyone with you. Yours is a foolish, childish, selfish decision. Your childish love should stay in the past.”
Matus sighed, exasperated.
“You will pen a missive and send it on the next falcon to Reece. You will tell him you’ve changed your mind. You will instruct him to marry this girl. Whoever she is.”
Stara felt herself swell with anger toward her brother, an anger stronger than she’d ever felt.
“You speak out of line,” she said. “Do not pretend to give me counsel. You are not my father. You are my brother. Speak to me of this once more, and you shall never speak to me again.”
Matus stared back, clearly stunned. Stara had never spoken to him that way before. And she meant it. Her feelings for Reece ran much deeper than her bond with her brother. Much deeper than anything in her life.
Matus, shocked and hurt, finally turned and stormed off the roof.
Stara turned and looked back out at the sea, hoping for any sign of Reece’s ship. But she knew it was long gone.
Reece, she thought. I love you. Stay the course. Whatever obstacles you face, stay the course. Be strong. Call off the wedding. Do it for me. For us.
Stara closed her eyes and clenched her hands, and begged and prayed to every god she knew that Reece would have the strength to follow through. To come back for her. That the two of them would finally be together forever.
No matter what it took.
Chapter Ten
Karus and Falus, Tirus’s two sons, walked quickly down the spiral stone staircase, descending deeper and deeper, heading toward the dungeon that held their father. They hated the indignity of having to descend to this place to see their father, a great warrior who had been rightful King of the Upper Isles. And they silently vowed revenge.
Yet this time, they brought news, news which could change everything. News which finally gave them cause for hope.
Karus and Falus marched right up to the soldiers standing guard at the entrance to the prison, men loyal, they knew, to the Queen. They stopped in their tracks, reddening, hating having to suffer the humiliation of needing to ask permission to see their father.
Gwendolyn’s men surveyed them, as if debating, then nodded to each other and stepped forward.
“Hold your arms out,” they commanded Karus and Falus.
Karus and Falus did so, bristling as the soldiers stripped them of their arms.
They then unlocked the iron gates, opened them slowly, and let them in, closing and slamming and locking the gates behind them.
Karus and Falus knew their time was short; they would only be allowed to visit their father for a few minutes, as they had, once a week, ever since he had been imprisoned. After that, Gwendolyn’s men would command them to leave.
They walked to the end of the long dungeon corridor, all the cells empty, their father the only one down here in this ancient prison. Finally, they reached the last cell on the left, lit dimly by a flickering torch against the wall, and they turned to the bars and peered inside, searching for their father.
Slowly, Tirus emerged from the dark corners of the cell and came to the bars. He stared back, his face gaunt, his beard untended, grim. He stared back with the hopeless expression of a man who knew he would never see daylight again.
Karus’s and Falus’s hearts broke to witness it. It made them resolve even more to find a way to free him, and to get vengeance on Gwendolyn.
“Father,” Falus said, hopefully.
“We bring urgent news,” Karus said.
Tirus stared back at them, a flicker of hope at their tone.
“Out with it, then,” he growled.
Falus cleared his throat.
“Our sister, it seems, has fallen in love again with our cousin, Reece. Our spies tell us the two plan to marry. Reece intends to call off his wedding on the mainland, and to marry Stara instead.”
“We must find a way to stop it,” Karus said, indignant.
Tirus stared back, expressionless, but they could see his eyes darting, taking it all in.
“Must we?” Tirus said slowly. “And why is that?”
They looked back at their father, confused.
“Why?” Karus asked. “We cannot have our family merge with Reece’s. It would play right into the Queen’s hand. Our families would merge, and she would gain complete control.”
“It would remove any ounce of independence our people still have,” Falus chimed in.
“The plans are already in motion,” Karus added. “And we must find a way to stop them.”
They waited for a response, but Tirus slowly shook his head.
“Stupid, stupid boys,” he said slowly, his voice dark, shaking his head again and again. “Why did I raise such stupid boys? Have I taught you nothing all these years? You still look at what’s in front of you, and not what’s beyond.”
“We do not understand, Father.”
Tirus grimaced.
“And that is why I am in this position. That is why you are not ruling now. Stopping this union would be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, and the worst thing that could happen to our island. If our Stara marries Reece, that would be the greatest thing that could ever happen for all of us.”
They looked back, confused, not understanding.
“Greatest? How so?”
Tirus sighed, impatient.
“If our two families merge, Gwendolyn cannot keep me imprisoned here. She would have no choice but to set me free. It would change everything. It would not strip us of power – it would give us power. We would be legitimate MacGils, on the same footing as those on the mainland. Gwendolyn would be beholden to us. Don’t you see?” he asked. “A child of Reece and Stara would be as much our child as theirs.”
“But Father, it is not natural. They are cousins.”
Tirus shook his head.
“Politics are not natural, my son. But this union will happen,” he insisted, determination in his voice. “And you two will do everything in your power to make it happen.”
Karus cleared his throat, nervous, uncertain now.
“But Reece has already sailed for the mainland,” he said. “It is too late. Reece, we hear, has already made up his mind.”
Tirus reached up and smacked the iron bars, as if wishing to smack Karus’s face, and Karus jumped back, startled.
“You are even stupider than I thought,” Tirus said. “You will make certain it happens. Men have changed their minds over lesser things than this. And you will make certain that Reece changes his mind.”
“How?” Falus asked.
Tirus stood there thinking, stroking his beard for a long while. For the first time in many moons, his eyes were working, darting, thinking, formulating a plan. For the first time, there was hope and optimism in his eyes.
“This girl, Selese, the one he is about to marry,” Tirus said finally. “She must be gotten to. You will find her. You will bring evidence… evidence of Reece and Stara’s love. You will tell her firsthand, before he reaches her. You will be sure that she knows that Reece is in love with someone else. That way, in case Reece changes his mind before he reaches her, it will be too late. We will be assured of their breakup.”
“But what evidence do we have of their love?” Karus asked.
Tirus rubbed his beard, thinking. Finally, he perked up.
“Do you remember those scrolls? The ones we intercepted when Stara was young? The love letters she penned to Reece? The letters he penned back to her?”
Karus and Falus nodded.
“Yes,” Falus said. “We intercepted the falcons.”
Tirus nodded.
“They remain in my castle. Bring them to her. Tell her they are recent, and make it convincing. She will never guess their age – and all will be finished.”
Karus and Falus finally nodded, smiling, realizing the depth of their father’s cunning and wisdom.
Tirus smiled back, for the first time in as long as they could remember.
“Our island will rise again.”
Chapter Eleven
Thor sat atop his horse, leading it up and down the lines of Legion recruits, all of the eager boys lined up, standing at attention before him in the Legion’s new arena.
Thor looked out at the dozens and dozens of new faces, examined each one carefully, and felt the weight of responsibility. New recruits had poured in from all over the Ring, all eager to join the newly rebuilt Legion. It was a daunting task to choose the next crop of warriors, the men upon whom the Ring would rely in the coming years.
A part of Thorgrin felt that he did not deserve to be here; after all, it was not so many moons ago that he himself was hoping to be picked by the Legion. As he thought back on it, it felt like a lifetime ago, before he’d met Gwen, before he’d had a child, before he’d become a warrior. Now here he was, tasked to rebuild it, to find replacements for all the brave souls that had been killed defending the Ring.
As Thor looked out past the boys, he saw the graveyard he’d had erected, all the markers rising from the earth shining in the late afternoon suns, reminding them always of the Legion they had known. It had been Thor’s idea to bury them here, on the periphery of the new arena, so that they could always be with them, always be remembered, and watch over the new recruits. Thor could feel their spirits hovering over him, helping him, urging him on.
Knowing that his Legion brothers, Reece and Conven and Elden and O’Connor, were all spread throughout the Ring on various tasks, Thor felt comfortable, at least, that he was the one who remained here, close to home, to focus on this task. He’d also been Captain of the Legion, so it felt almost natural he should be the one tasked with rebuilding it.
Thor looked at the dozens of boys before him, and he had high hopes for some, but not for others. They did their best to stand at attention as he came close, and he could tell that some of them were just not warriors; others could be, yet they would need much training. There was an untested look in all their eyes, a look of anxiety, of fear of what was to come.