by Morgan Rice
He looked down at his father, at sword-point, and a part of him wanted to hurt him. But another part of him realized one final thing: they did not deserve his vengeance, either. They would have to be somebody to deserve that. And they were nobody.
He turned to his men.
“I think this village will do just fine on their own,” he said.
He kicked his horse, and in a great cloud of dust they all rode out of town, Steffen determined to never return to this place again.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The attendants threw open the ancient oak doors, and Reece hurried out of the nasty weather, wet from the driving wind and rain of the Upper Isles, and into the dry refuge of Srog’s fort. He was immediately relieved to be dry as the doors slammed behind him, wiping water from his hair and face, and he looked up to see Srog hurrying over to give him a hug.
Reece embraced him back. He had always had a warm spot for this great warrior and leader, this man who had led Silesia so well, who had been loyal to Reece’s father, and even more loyal to his sister. Seeing Srog, with his stiff beard, broad shoulders, and friendly smile, brought back memories of his father, of the old guard.
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 fooli
sh, 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.
