by Morgan Rice
Alistair heard a distant rumble. She looked up at the horizon and saw a lone rider charging for the tower, kicking up dirt on the dusty road. She watched as he rode right up to Erec, knelt before him, and handed him a scroll. She wondered what it could be that would make him ride with such haste?
Erec stood very still for a long time, reading. Finally, he turned and walked toward the fort. He looked lost in thought, his brow furrowed, and whatever it was, Alistair sensed from his body language that it was not good.
Alistair heard a muted shuffling of feet coming up the spiral stone staircase, then Erec appeared on the roof of the fort, holding the scroll, looking grim.
“What is it, my lord?” Alistair asked, rushing over to him.
Erec looked down and shook his head. She could see his eyes well with tears.
“My father,” he said, grimly. “He’s gravely ill.”
Alistair felt overwhelmed with compassion for Erec, and she leaned in and hugged him, and he hugged her back. He had never spoken to her of his father, or of his people, and she did not know much about them. All she knew was that Erec hailed from the Southern Isles.
“What will you do?” she asked.
Erec stared out at the horizon, thinking.
“I must go to him,” he said. “I must see him before he dies.”
Alistair’s eyes widened.
“To the Southern Isles?” she asked.
He nodded, earnest.
“It is a long voyage, my lady,” he said. “Harsh and unforgiving. I will have to cross the Southern Sea, which takes more lives than it lets pass. It will be safer for you to stay here. I shall return to you.”
Alistair felt a rush of determination, and she shook her head.
“I will never be apart from you again,” she said. “I vowed to myself. And I intend to keep it. Whatever the price. I will join you.”
Erec looked back, seeing her determination, touched.
“But Gwendolyn’s wedding,” he answered. “You are her maid of honor.”
Alistair sighed.
“If you must go now,” she replied, “then I must go with you. Gwendolyn will understand.”
Erec embraced her, and she embraced him back. She held him tight, and wondered. What would their voyage be like? What were the Southern Isles like? What was his family like? Would they like her? Accept her? Would he make it to see his father before he died?
And most of all, how would this affect their wedding? Would it delay it?
Would Gwen really understand? Would Thor? Would she ever see her brother again? Would they really return to the Ring?
For some reason, she had a sinking feeling that they would not.
* * *
Alistair rode through King’s Court, having just said goodbye to Gwendolyn, and her heart was still breaking. It had been painful to break the news, even though Gwen had received it well. She felt terrible telling Gwen, especially at this time, right before her wedding. But the way she saw it, she had no choice. Erec would be her husband, and she could not stand to be separated from him again. Gwen had been understanding, stoic, and had made it easy on Alistair. But Alistair sensed, deep down, that Gwen was hurt, that she would have wanted her there at her wedding. Alistair wished things could be different; but this was the hand life had dealt her.
As Alistair rode out of court, she was determined, before riding back to Erec, to see her brother one last time, to break the news to him, too, that she was leaving. She braced herself. When all this was over, Alistair vowed silently to return, to find a way to come back to the Ring, to be with Gwendolyn and Thor, and all of her people, again. After all, she and Gwendolyn had been through so much in the Netherworld together, and Gwen felt like a true sister to her, like the sister she’d never had. Alistair also felt protective of Gwen. She felt attached to her, especially since hearing the news of her new child.
Alistair could hardly believe that she had a nephew. When she’d held him, she had felt his energy course through her, and had felt a greater connection to the child than any she had ever known. Her brother’s son. It was hard to imagine. As she held him, she knew without a doubt that the two of them would have a close relationship their entire lives.
Alistair rode through the newly rebuilt stone gates leading to the Legion training ground, past all the new recruits lining up on the field, all hoping to catch her brother’s attention for a spot in the coveted Legion. She spotted her brother, and rode across the courtyard and dismounted before him.
Thor must have sensed her coming, because before she even got close to him, he turned and met her gaze, his light gray eyes alight in the morning sun, standing there so noble and proud, all the hopeful warriors of the Legion looking to him. Her brother was clearly a leader, and all these boys, some older than he, looked up to him as if he were a god. She could understand why. Not only was he a skilled warrior, but he also exuded an energy, something mystical, almost like a light shining around him. It was hard to put her finger on exactly what it was about him. It was almost as if she were looking at the stuff of legend, while he was still alive. There was also a fleeting air to him, as if somehow, he, burning so bright, might not live very long, like a shooting star racing across the sky. She flinched at the thought, and tried to suppress it.
But as Alistair walked up to him, she suddenly choked up. She had a flash, saw something she could not suppress. It was a vision: she saw her brother dead. At a young age. She saw death—and glory—all around him.
Alistair stopped before Thor, about to hug him, and her smile morphed to a frown, as she barely stopped herself from crying. They had become close these past moons, and Thor was the only real family she had, and the idea of losing him now, after she had just met him, was too much for her to bear.
“What is it, my sister?” Thor asked, looking at her, puzzled.
Alistair merely shook her head, biting her tongue. Instead, she leaned in and hugged him, and he hugged her back. Over his shoulder, she quickly wiped away tears and forced herself to smile.
She pulled back.
“Nothing, my brother,” she said.
He watched her, skeptical, concerned.
“Yet you seem disturbed,” he said.
“I have come to say goodbye,” she replied.
Thor looked at her, surprise and disappointment in his face.
“Erec departs for the Southern Isles,” she said, “and I must join him. I am sorry. I will not be here to see you wed.”
Thor nodded, understanding.
“At Erec’s side is where you should be,” he said. “He is the greatest warrior of our Ring—and yet, he needs you. You are even greater. Protect him.”
“As are you,” she said back.
Thor flushed with embarrassment.
“I am but a boy from a small farming village,” Thor replied humbly.
Alistair shook her head.
“You are far, far more than that.”
Thor sighed and looked off into the distance, watching his recruits train.
“I will be departing myself, soon,” he said.
Alistair suddenly gained an insight into his mind, as she often did when she was around him.
“You will go to seek out our mother,” she said, more of a statement than a question.
Thor looked at her, surprised.
“How did you know?” he asked.
She shrugged.
“You are an open book around me,” she said. “I don’t know why. It is as if I can see what you see.”
“What else do you see?” Thor asked, excited, narrowing his eyes. “Will I find our mother?”
Alistair had a sudden flash of Thor’s future. She saw that he would indeed find her. But then the vision was obscured by darkness, as if it were being deliberately masked by the fates. She saw Thor in a great battle, one beyond even his powers. She saw darkness all around them, and she quickly closed her eyes and shook her head, wanting to quash the vision. It was too dark, too terrifying.
She didn’t want to scare Thor, and she forced herself to remain composed. She shuddered inside, but did not let him show it.
“You will find her,” she replied.
Thor looked at her, unconvinced.
“And yet…you hesitate,” he said.
Alistair shook her head and looked away.
“Last time we spoke of Mother,” she said, “I was beginning to tell you that I have something of hers. It is fitting that you have it. I do not know if I shall ever see her.”
Alistair reached into her pocket and extracted an object.
“Hold out your wrist,” she said.
Thor did so, and he looked down as Alistair held out a golden wrist bracelet, six inches wide, and clasped it around his wrist. It covered Thor’s wrist, halfway up his forearm, shining, shifting colors in the light.
Thor examined it in wonder. She could tell he was awestruck.
“The Land of the Druids is a fearful place,” she said. “A place of great power. But also of great danger. You will need this more than I.”
“What is it?” he asked, running a finger along its smooth golden surface.
She shrugged.
“It is the only thing that Mother left me. I do not know what it is, or what it does. But I know that you will need it where you’re going.”
Thor leaned in and, clearly grateful, embraced Alistair tight; she embraced him back.
“Be safe,” Thor said.
“Send Mother my love,” she said. “Tell her I love her. And one day, I hope to meet her, too.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The attendants opened the double doors, and Reece braced himself as he entered his mother’s sick chamber alone. He felt a pit in his stomach as the darkened room embraced him, lit only by a flickering torch. Nurses hovered over his mother’s bedside, patting her forehead with salves. Hafold stood closest to her. Reece had been worried his entire trip here that he would not reach her before she died—and he was so grateful that he had. He had come here first, the second the ship touched shore, before even going to break the wedding news to Selese.
The thought of his mother dying tore Reece apart. Of all of the children, Reece, the youngest, had always been closest to his mother. They confided to each other, and she had been kinder and gentler to him than all the others. She had sheltered him from his father’s occasional wrath, and had always made sure he had the best of everything. The thought of her dying made him feel as if a part of him were dying, too. He’d wanted more than anything for her to be alive for his wedding.
Thinking of the looming wedding confused Reece. The entire ship ride home, his mind had been filled with thoughts of Stara, of their encounter, of his love for her. Throughout the trip, he remained determined to make her his wife, to steel himself to tell Selese the news.
But now that he had reached home again, had entered King’s Court, seen all the furious wedding preparations, it gave him pause. It was a spectacle. King’s Court looked more beautiful than it ever had, and thousands upon thousands of people were finally arriving from all corners of the Ring, and the world, getting ready to watch. And Reece would be at the center of it. He would be letting down not only Selese, but also his sister, and Thorgrin, ruining everyone’s special day, for which they had worked so hard to prepare. He would also be letting down the thousands of people who were anticipating this great event.
How could he do that? How could he betray his people? And most of all, how could he betray Selese? The thought of hurting Selese pained him to no end. She, most of all, who had been so kind and loyal to him. Was he right to follow his passions, his heart? Or was he being selfish, wrong to betray everyone around him?
Reece now felt completely at a loss as to what to do. He felt like a traitor, like the worst betrayer in the world.
Except, of course, to Stara.
Reece thought of her, and a rush of love washed over him, so strong, like a wave washing over his entire world. It was a love that prodded him on, a love strong enough to defy everyone and everything he knew and loved.
As Reece approached his mother’s bedside, he forced himself to snap out of it and focus on her. She opened her eyes as he laid a hand on her wrist, and gestured to Hafold, who quickly rounded up all the servants and hurried from the room.
Reece and his mother were alone, and Reece, as he had his whole life, wanted to confide in her, to ask for her thoughts, her opinion. But he did not know if he could. He did not know if she was in a state to hear it all, or to respond, and as pressing as this was, and as torn as he was, he didn’t want to upset her right now, in her final moments. Also, she had given him her royal ring to use to propose to Selese, along with her blessing. How could he tell her that he wanted to marry someone else?
Reece took his mother’s limp hand in both of his, a tear rolling down his cheek as he lowered his forehead to the back of her palm. He was overwhelmed with a whirlwind of emotions.
His mother sat up a little in bed, looked down at him, then coughed and coughed, the sound reverberating in her chest. It was a cough he’d never heard; the cough of an old woman. It terrified him, and he squeezed her hand.
“Mother, I’m so sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry I could not be here sooner.”
“You were away on important business,” she said. “The Queen’s business. After all, the Upper Isles are important, too.”
His mother looked at him with a knowing look he knew well.
“And I hear you had more business than that,” she added.
Reece looked back, stunned. How had she known? Even here, now, across the ocean? He’d underestimated her. Nothing escaped her. He should have known; his whole life, his mother had always known everything. She had spies in every corner of the kingdom, and she always knew something before he did, before even his father. He could get away with nothing. There was a saying in King’s Court: when the halls whispered, the Queen MacGil heard it before the echo.
“How did you know?” Reece asked, knowing it was a stupid question.
She merely shook her head.
“How could you do this?” she asked, displeased.
Reece reddened, ashamed.
“I gave you my ring,” his mother added. “The ring your father gave me. A ring of honor. A ring that signifies your word that you would not betray someone else. For any reason. It was a ring for all eternity, the ring I blessed for you to give to Selese, and you have made a mockery of it.”
She looked at him with scorn, and Reece looked away, humiliated, unable to look back. His confusion heightened, and he felt increasingly unsure.
“I’m sorry, Mother,” he said. “I did not mean to disappoint. I did not mean to fall in love with Stara. I did not even seek to see her.”
“Yet when you saw her, you did not turn away. That was your choice. Those were your actions. You might make one lonely woman happy. But think of how many others you will hurt.”
His mother shook her head.
“It is no longer about you,” she added. “You will come to see, as you grow, that lust is oft mistaken with love, and lust is a childish thing. As you get older, you’ll find that love, true love, is about commitment, responsibility. Especially for you—a member of the royal family. We are not regular people; we are all actors here. The entire kingdom looks to us. We are a spectacle for the masses, and little more. Don’t fool yourself. Pacified masses means the royal family can rule. Your life is not private. People look to you. You cannot cast a pall of dishonor on the royal family. You have given your word, and you must honor it, above all else. Without that, what would we be? What worth would the royal bloodline have?”
Reece’s forehead was covered in a cold sweat, and he reached up and wiped it with the back of his hand. His mouth was going dry as he contemplated his mother’s words, so piercing, as always.
“I’m sorry, Mother,” he said again. “I have lived my entire life for honor. I do not mean to dishonor anyone.”
“Indeed you do,” she retorted.
&nb
sp; “I did not set out to dishonor Selese,” he insisted. “Yet I love Stara. Is it not wrong to ignore one’s feelings?”
“Feelings are temporary,” she scoffed. “Actions are permanent. You could follow your passions if you were a commoner. But you are not. You are a King’s son. You don’t have the luxury to follow your feelings. You do what is right, what is expected of you. You do not betray the one to whom you have given your word, who has put her faith in you.”
She sighed.
“Stara will be hurt, true. But that is one person. The rest of the kingdom will be happy. You may regret it your whole life. You may hate it; you may hate me. But that is the price you pay to be in the royal family. There are many forms of honor. The honor sung of in battle is the easiest kind. Honor in daily life—that is hard. You must display honor in love as you would on the battlefield. One is not more important than the other. Show me an honorable warrior who has betrayed his wife, and I’ll show you a man who is worth less than nothing.”
His mother’s tone was harsher than Reece had ever heard, and he realized they were the sounds of a woman on her deathbed, a woman with no time left, with nothing left to lose, and with urgency in her message. It was a tone Reece barely recognized.
Worst of all, he knew she was right. He hung his head low, wishing he were anywhere but here in this stifling chamber. He wished this dilemma had never fallen into his lap. How had his life become so complicated so quickly?
“You are not a boy,” she said. “You are a man now. Which is why you are taught honor from other men. Not from women. But that means you are only being taught half of what true honor means. It is past time you learned it from a woman’s side. For only then will you become a true man.”
