The Gift of Battle

by Morgan Rice

  But suddenly the ship turned upside down, sinking, and the arrows stopped coming. Soldiers shrieked behind them.

  At the same time, Darius reached the hull of Gwendolyn’s ship. He floated beside it, the slave with him, and he looked straight up the twenty-foot hull, hoping and praying Gwen would see him. He was losing strength, the other ships were closing in, and there was no way he could climb it.

  “Gwendolyn!” he called out.

  As the ship continued to sail, leaving him floating there in its wake, Darius began to despair. After all that, he realized, he would die out here.

  But as he floated there, thinking all was lost, he suddenly saw Kendrick’s face at the stern, and saw it light up with recognition.

  “Darius!” he called out.

  Immediately, a rope was thrown down to them, and Darius and the slave reached out and grabbed it, holding on tight as they were pulled up, one rope length at a time.

  Darius, with one final pull, landed on deck, the slave beside him, and he gasped for breath, coughing out water, feeling exhausted but a great feeling of satisfaction. He could hardly believe it: he had escaped. He was really here.

  Finally, freedom was his once again.

  As he lay there, coughing up seawater, the slave beside him doing the same, he felt a tongue on his face, heard a whining, and he looked over, elated, to see his old friend Dray again. He kissed him and stroked his head, as Dray jumped on him, and he wondered how on earth he got here.

  Darius looked up to see Gwendolyn and Kendrick gather around with all the others. Strong hands reached down and pulled him up, and he embraced Kendrick, dripping wet, and then Gwendolyn.

  “The last I saw you,” Gwendolyn said, “you were marching to Volusia to protect your people. It was a daring raid.”

  Darius lowered his head, overwhelmed with sadness as he remembered.

  “My friends did not make it, my lady,” he said.

  “No,” she said. “But you did.”

  He examined her; she seemed older, stronger, than when he’d last seen her.

  “And last I saw you, my lady,” he said, “you were venturing into the Waste to find us help.”

  He smiled.

  “You found it, after all,” he added. “A bit late—but just when I needed it.”

  They all grinned and embraced.

  “And who is this?” Gwen asked.

  They all turned to the other slave, and he grinned back.

  “I honestly don’t know,” Darius said. “We never met. But he saved my life.”

  “As you saved mine,” he replied. “Tinitius is my name. Mind if I join you?”

  He shook hands, and Kendrick grinned.

  “You are most welcome to join our cause,” he replied.

  Darius’s face fell, serious again.

  “My people are all gone, my lady,” he said.

  Gwen paused.

  “Not all of them,” she replied, cryptically.

  He looked back at her, not understanding, when suddenly, the crowd parted and up stepped a girl who made his heart melt. Darius’s eyes opened wide in shock and joy, as she rushed forward, past all the others, and embraced him.

  “Darius,” she said in his ear, hugging him tight, her hot tears pouring down his neck.

  He held her tight, hardly believing it was possible.

  “I thought you were dead,” he said.

  Loti shook her head.

  “No,” she replied. “I lived for you.”

  As Darius held her tight and Gwen’s ship picked up speed, sailing further away from Empire assault, he felt that everything was right in the world again. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he was with people he loved, back to the closest thing to home he had—and on a mission that meant everything to him. For he would give his life to defend Gwendolyn, Kendrick, all of these people—his adopted brothers—and most of all, to help them take back the Ring.

  He thanked God for one thing most of all: that, live or die, he would be there to fight another war.

  CHAPTER FORTY TWO

  Gwendolyn crossed the deck of her ship, joined by Kendrick, Steffen, and now Darius, whom she was thrilled to have back with them, as she headed for the bow. Their last encounter with the Empire fleet had been too close, and she knew that if it hadn’t been for Darius and his ingenuity with the cannon, they might all not be alive right now.

  She reached the rail and scanned the horizon, the others at her side, hundreds of members of the Ridge behind her, filling her ship and filling the other three ships of her fleet, each manned by Koldo, Ludvig, and Kaden—and her heart leapt as she spotted, on the horizon, the outline of a landmass, one she knew like the back of her hand:

  The Ring.

  Gwen’s heart slammed and her throat went dry, and she felt a wave of jubilance rush through her unlike any she’d ever experienced. Her homeland. Even destroyed, it was still her home, and now, finally, it lay within reach again. It restored her heart, made her feel as if there were a purpose to life again, a chance for all of them to be together and to build a life again.

  Gwen saw the gleam in Kendrick’s eyes, too, in Brandt’s and Atme’s, and she could see that they felt the same way. She also saw the looks of wonder in the eyes of Koldo and Ludvig and Kaden and Darius—and all those of the Empire and the Ridge who had never laid eyes upon the Ring before. Its shores, even from here, were so beautiful, so mysterious, with cliffs that rose high in the air, framed by jagged rocks, a lush green forest behind it, and a mist that hung over it all. Its circular shoreline, most of all, caught the eye, making it feel, even from here, like very special place, like a magical land that rose from the sea.

  “So it is not just a myth,” Koldo called out, studying it in awe. “The famed Sorcerer’s Ring truly does exist.”

  Gwendolyn smiled back at Koldo.

  “Finally,” Ludvig called out, “the two sides of the MacGil family, the Ridge and the Ring, shall be united in one homeland!”

  Gwendolyn was feeling the same sentiment, and wanted more than anything to celebrate, especially as she knew that being here, in the Ring, meant that she might see Thorgrin again. She prayed that Lycoples had delivered the message, that he had found the Ring and their son, and would meet her here. She prayed with all her heart—nothing else would make her joy so complete.

  But suddenly Gwen’s reverie was shattered as horns sounded on the horizon behind her. She turned and looked back, and her heart stopped to see that the horizon was filled, once again, with Empire ships, all of them having rallied, having pursued her here. There were hundreds of them this time, a massive black fleet covering the horizon, waving the black banners of the Empire, and closing in fast—too fast.

  The Empire ships were superior to theirs, and Gwendolyn knew they would reach them soon. She glanced back and forth, gauging how far away the Ring was, and how far away the Empire was, and she wondered if they would make it in time. It would be close, down to the wire.

  “And if they overtake us before we reach it?” Kendrick asked, studying the horizon with her.

  “They outnumber us ten to one, my lady,” Darius said. “We must reach the Ring before they do.”

  Kendrick turned back and studied the horizon critically.

  “And even if we do,” he said, “we will be but on the edge of the Ring, at the Wilds. We will still have to cross them—and more so, cross the Canyon.”

  “And what good will it do to cross the Canyon without a shield?” Steffen asked. “This is not the Ring we once knew. This land lies unprotected. The Empire will be on our heels. We will not be able to outrun them. At some point, we will have to stand and fight.”

  Gwen, thinking the same thing, looked up and searched the skies, waiting, watching, hoping more than anything to hear the screech of a dragon, to see Thorgrin return to her.

  Thorgrin, please. We need you now. More than ever. Please return to us, for one last battle. For old times’ sake.

  But her heart fell as she saw a
nd heard nothing. Just dark, rolling clouds growing darker by the moment, as if the heavens were angry, as if they knew the bloodshed that was about to happen.

  Gwen turned back to the others, resolute. She was alone, as always, and she would find a way to fight alone.

  “If we must fight the whole of the Empire,” she said, her voice firm, “then we shall fight. And if we shall die, then we shall die. The battle before us is a battle for our homeland, for ourselves, for our freedom. Whether we win or lose matters little: it is the chance for battle that is the gift.

  “Raise the sails!” she yelled, turning to her men. “Take up the oars!”

  Steffen and the others scrambled to follow her command, carrying it up and down the ships, as the men rushed to further hoist the sails, to pull harder on the oars. They all redoubled their efforts, their fleet gaining speed as they sailed for the Ring, trying to make land. As Gwen stood there, looking out, she watched, desperate, as the Empire fleet crept toward them like a plague, knowing there was little she could do. She turned and looked back at the Ring, studying the shoreline, and she had an idea.

  “Head northeast!” she cried. “For the Shallow Bay!”

  They altered their direction, and as they did, Kendrick came up beside her, studying the looming shoreline of the Ring.

  “The Shallow Bay is shaped like a horseshoe, my Queen,” he said. “If we enter, if we even make it, we shall be trapped inside.”

  She nodded.

  “And so will the Empire,” she replied.

  He looked back, confused.

  “It will force them to funnel in,” she replied. “It is a bottleneck. One million ships cannot fit in at once. A few dozen, perhaps—and these will narrow the odds.”

  Kendrick nodded back, clearly pleased.

  “That is why Father chose you,” he said approvingly.

  Gwen’s heart raced as the land of the Ring loomed but several hundred yards away, the strong coastal winds bringing them closer. The Shallow Bay jutted out, two long peninsulas on either side, like a horseshoe, with a narrow opening of less than fifty yards, and she sailed her ship, leading her fleet right inside it.

  As they entered its calm waters, sheltered here from the wind and ocean currents, the other ships sailed up beside her, Koldo and Ludvig and Kaden staring back, awaiting direction in what was, for them, a new land.

  Gwendolyn studied the topography of the Ring, and she was shocked to see how much it had changed since they had left. The Wilds were now overgrown, their thick, dark wood leaning over, growing into the water, thicker and blacker than she had ever seen it. Of course, it made sense; the patrols of the Silver had not been here in moons to clear it out, and the Wilds, she knew, were likely filled with savage beasts again. This would not make their trek to the Canyon any easier.

  Another horn sounded, and Gwen turned to see the Empire fleet closing in, entering the bay, trapping them in here, the forefront of their fleet, a dozen ships, entering at once. She turned back and saw the shore still a hundred yards away, and she knew they would not make it in time.

  She felt torn. Here they were, so close to home after all this time, and she wanted more than anything to disembark. Why could the Empire have not given her but an hour’s more lead? Just an hour to touch down on her homeland, to feel it beneath her feet once again? It broke her heart.

  She knew that, at this point, it would take a miracle, and she searched the skies again, hoping for any sign of Thorgrin.

  But, again, there was none. Her heart fell. Had he made it? Was he, too, lost to her?

  Gwen gritted her teeth and resigned herself to the battle before her. They would have to make a stand; they had no choice. They would all die here, she knew—and yet there was no place she’d rather die than fighting for the Ring. At least they would not die a foreign death, a lonely death in a strange land, in the waste of Empire, in lands unknown, so far from home. She would die here, where her father had died, and his father before him.

  “We fight!” she yelled, turning to her commanders.

  They all could see the seriousness of her expression, and as a somber air fell over them, they all knew the time had come. It was time to put their battle faces on.

  Hardly had she issued the command than the first shot appeared across the bow. Gwen looked up as she heard the whistling of a thousand arrows, and she saw the sky blacken with the Empire’s first volley.

  “Shields!” she cried.

  All of her men, prepared for this, raised their shields and took a knee in tight formations, huddling close together. Gwen joined them, pulling Krohn in tight beside her, raised her oversized shield, and took a knee with the wall of soldiers.

  The thump of arrows hitting wood sounded all around her, as arrows landed on the deck like rain, some splashing into the water, not enough distance to reach them—but most hitting wood. Gwen felt her arm jolt as more than one hit her shield. She was surprised at the force with which the arrows hit, even from so far away.

  Finally, all fell silent, the volley ended, and she and all her men slowly stood and looked out.

  “ARCHERS!” she commanded.

  Dozens of her archers stepped forward, raising their bows in neat lines.

  “AIM FOR THE SAILS!”

  Her men did as she commanded, firing back, and the sky blackened again—this time with her own arrows, flying back across the harbor. Her men aimed high, something the Empire was clearly not expecting, as they all took cover down below and the arrows sailed harmlessly over their heads.

  Nor were they expecting the damage it did: thousands of arrows punctured the sails, filling them with holes, leaving them in tatters; soon, the sails flapped wildly in the wind, useless. Their ships immediately lost speed, and while they continued to advance, it was not nearly as quickly.

  Gwen’s ships, on the other hand, continued to sail at full speed, and as another volley of Empire arrows came back at them, this time they were mostly out of range, most arrows landing harmlessly in the sea. But a few of her men cried out, pierced by arrows despite their shields, too many slipping through. She knew time was short.

  Gwendolyn looked back to the shore, closer, but still far enough away. She knew she had to take this fight to the land; out here, in the open sea, they were sitting ducks. But as she turned and looked, she saw more and more Empire ships filing into the harbor, and she knew the odds were not good.

  “FIRE!” she yelled.

  Her men unleashed another volley of arrows, these into the soldiers, Gwen taking up a bow and firing along with them, and she watched in satisfaction as more than one Empire soldier was hit and fell.

  But an Empire volley came right back at them, and Gwen and the others took cover once again.

  Back and forth the volleys went, the Empire ships slipping ever closer, until Gwen finally looked back and saw the shore but twenty yards away. Her men were dying, and she knew they had to make it. They were so close now. She could almost feel the land beneath her feet, and if the water wasn’t still so deep, she would have had her men jump.

  Suddenly, Gwen heard a noise which made her heart sink. It was a sparking noise, the sound of a fuse being lit. She turned, and her heart stopped to see an Empire cannon being turned and aimed right for them.

  “GET DOWN!” she yelled.

  But it was too late: there came a terrific boom cutting through the air, followed by an echo, and suddenly, an explosion of wood.

  All was chaos, as the ship beside Gwen was smashed to bits, dozens of her men dying, shrieking as they fell overboard, some in flames. The boat, Kaden’s, immediately began to sink, half the men sliding down the deck, falling over the edge and into the water.

  Kaden fell with them, and he helped rally them, keep them afloat, as Gwen and her men immediately threw them ropes and helped them climb onto her ship, saving those who were not too wounded to climb.

  The Empire took advantage of their weakness and fired another volley of arrows, taking aim at those climbing the ship, and as me
n were being pulled back up, more than one of them, impaled by an Empire arrowhead, slipped back into the water, dead.

  Gwen turned and saw the situation getting desperate, more and more Empire ships sailing into the harbor, and many with cannons. She saw a soldier with a torch leaning to light another fuse—and she knew that in a moment, another one of her ships would be taken out.

  As Gwen watched, wanting to take action but knowing there was no time, she was shocked to see a spear go through his back and out the other end. The soldier stood there, stunned, and suddenly fell face first, dropping his torch harmlessly on the deck.

  Gwen could not fathom what had possibly happened and she wondered if she were seeing things—when suddenly she spotted a single ship, what appeared to be a commandeered pirate ship, flying a banner she recognized, cutting through the Empire ranks. Her heart raced to recognize the people on board—there, at the bow, was Reece, joined by O’Connor, Elden, Indra, Matus, Stara and Angel. They sailed solo, cutting through the ranks of Empire ships from behind, clearly none of the massive fleet of the Empire expecting to be attacked from behind by a sole ship.

  Reece and the others sailed headlong into danger, hurling spears left and right, taking out dozens of Empire soldiers before they even realized what was happening. They aimed for those manning cannons, sparing Gwendolyn, and they cut a path right through, between ships, as they broke through the ranks and entered the bay.

  They never slowed, even as the Empire caught wind and fired arrows at them. They fired back and continued sailing, their commandeered pirate ship sleeker and faster than all the others, sailing all the way to Gwendolyn’s ship.

  Gwendolyn realized at once that this was the diversion that she and her men so desperately needed; she could no longer afford to sit there, trading volleys with the Empire, which was still closing in. Nor could they afford to race for the shore—which they would never make in time—and which would leave Reece and the others alone in the harbor, vulnerable to attack.

  Instead, they had to do what was counterintuitive, what the Empire would never possibly expect: they had to attack.