A Land Of Fire (Book 12) Read online

  “He will return to us,” he said. “What is ours cannot be taken from us.”

  Gwen searched Thor’s eyes with a glimmer of hope.

  “Mycoples?” she asked, tentative. “Ralibar? Can they help?”

  It was Thor’s turn to shake his head sadly.

  “I’m sorry, my love,” he said. “I alone survived.”

  Fresh tears rolled down her face, but she nodded, stoic.

  “I sensed as much,” she said. “I could feel it, in my heart, in my dreams. I could feel Ralibar trying to talk to me. I loved them dearly.”

  “So did I,” Thorgrin said.

  A long silence fell over the room, as they both stared into space, lost in memories, lost in sorrow.

  “And then how shall we find Guwayne, without a dragon to comb the seas?” Gwen asked.

  Thor thought for a moment, reflecting, and a new purpose arose within him. He recalled his mother’s words, and he sensed that what lay ahead of him would be the greatest quest of his life. It would be a quest of greater importance than his search for the Destiny Sword, greater even than his search for his mother. It would be more important than his own life itself.

  “I shall find him,” Thor said. “Without the aid of a dragon. Without the aid of anyone but myself. I will take a boat, and I will embark to search for him right away.”

  “I already tried,” Gwen said, shaking her head. “I feel certain he headed north. There is no land there, nothing on any map. To lead our people there would be to kill them all. They need provisions desperately. I tried it once, and I cannot do it again.”

  “I understand,” Thor answered. “But I can.”

  Gwen looked at him, hope rising in her eyes.

  “You lead our people to a new land, to safety. Wherever that may be. And I shall find Guwayne.”

  Gwen looked pained again.

  “I hate the thought of parting from you again. Not for anything,” she said. “But for our son…it must be done.”

  They both looked at each other and came to a silent agreement to part ways, and Gwen reached out and took his hand. They stood and faced each other.

  “Are you ready to greet our people?” she asked.

  Gwen led him up the stairs from the cabin, and Thor squinted at the harsh daylight as they came above board.

  Thor was surprised to see hundreds of his fellow people waiting there to greet him, looking at him like a hero risen from the ashes. Thor saw in their eyes such love and admiration, as if they were witnessing the emergence of a God.

  They all rushed forward, and Thor embraced them, one after the next, his heart swelling with joy to see all his old friends and people again. There came Reece, then Elden, O’Connor, Conven, Kendrick, Godfrey…one face after another whom he recognized, all men whom he thought he would never see again.

  “My time is short here,” Thor boomed out to the crowd, as they settled down in silence. All eyes fixed on him, riveted. “I must leave you all. I go to seek out my son. I shall take one of the small boats from the rear of the ship. It will be a desolate and joyless journey, and I do not expect any of you to join me. I shall return when I find him, and not before.”

  In the long silence that followed, Reece stepped forward, his boots creaking on the wood, and faced Thor.

  “Wherever you go, I go,” Reece said. “Legion forever.”

  Reece was joined by Elden, O’Connor, and Conven.

  “Legion forever,” they echoed.

  Thor looked back at them all, touched, honored to know them.

  “It is a quest from which I may never return,” he warned.

  Reece grinned back.

  “Even more reason to join it,” he said.

  Thor smiled back, seeing the determination on their faces, knowing he would not change their minds, and welcoming their companionship again.

  “Very well then,” he said. “Prepare yourselves. We shall leave at once.”

  *

  Reece paced back and forth on the ship, gathering his few possessions, mostly weapons, and stuffed them into a sack, preparing for the journey ahead. He was elated that his best friend Thorgrin was alive, was thrilled to have him back again, and was excited to be heading out on a quest with him again. This quest, more than all the others, hit home for Reece, as they were not just searching for a weapon, but for Guwayne, his nephew. Reece could think of no two people he loved more than Gwendolyn and Thorgrin, and he could imagine no higher cause than striving to retrieve their son.

  Reece prepared his weapons carefully, sharpening his sword, checking the aim on his bow, adjusting his arrows as he strapped one bow over his shoulder and another sword over his back. Reece felt that this would be the most important mission of his life, and he wanted to be prepared.

  Reece tried not to think of the others he was leaving behind—Gwendolyn, Kendrick and the rest of his people, and most of all Stara; yet he felt confident he would meet up with them again, and more importantly, return victorious, with Guwayne in tow.

  After all, Reece and Thorgrin were brothers of the Legion, and for Reece, that was more sacred than blood—more sacred than anything in this world. They held a bond of honor: if one of them was in trouble, all of them were in trouble. If Gwendolyn’s son was missing, it was as if Reece’s own son was missing. Reece recalled Kolk’s words, hammered into him during training: Don’t ever imagine that you fight alone. When one of you is hurt, all of you are hurt. If you can’t learn to be there for your brothers, you shall never learn to become a warrior at all. Battle is about sacrifice. The sooner you learn that, the greater warrior you will be.

  Reece regretted only one thing about this quest, and that was Stara. Although he would not admit to himself that he had feelings for her, he had to admit, at least, that he would think of her. There was something about being around her, he had to admit, that was addicting. It wasn’t so much that he ached to be in her presence, but rather that, when she wasn’t around, he felt her absence. Like something about him was a little bit off.

  But Reece shook these thoughts away; in the forefront of his mind there still remained Selese, his mourning for her, his penitence. And sailing with Thorgrin, going on this journey, would help give Reece time to reflect, to keep fresh his guilt for Selese. That was what he wanted.

  And yet, he had to admit, there remained a part of him that felt he was abandoning Stara, even if she were here on the ship with all the others.

  “So are you just going to leave then?” came a voice.

  The hair stood up on Reece’s back, as he heard the voice of the very person he had been thinking about—as if it were his own conscience speaking to himself.

  Reece put his sword in his scabbard, turned around, and saw Stara facing him, a look of sadness and disappointment etched across her face.

  Reece cleared his throat and tried to put on his bravest face.

  “My brother has summoned me in his time of need,” Reece replied, matter-of-factly. “What choice do I have?”

  “What choice?” Stara repeated. “You have any choice you wish. You needn’t go on this mission.”

  “Thor needs me,” Reece replied.

  Stara frowned.

  “Thor is a great warrior. He does not need you. He does not need any of you. He can find his son on his own.”

  It was Reece’s turn to frown.

  “So then I should just leave him to the fates, whatever should happen?”

  Stara looked away.

  “I do not want you to go,” she said. “I want you here. With me. With all of us on this ship, wherever it is that we are going. Don’t I count, too? Is Thor more important than me?”

  Reece looked at her, baffled. He didn’t know where this was coming from; she was acting as if they were a couple—but they were not. For most of the trip, in fact, she had barely acknowledged him. Wasn’t it Stara, after all, who had said they would never be together, except in mourning for Selese?

  Reece was certain he would never understand the ways of women.
He stepped forward and spoke softly, filled with compassion for her.

  “Stara,” he said, “you’ve been a great friend to me. But as you yourself have stated, there can no longer be anything between us. We both live together in the presence of a ghost, are both joined by mourning.”

  Reece sighed.

  “I admit, I will miss you. I would like to be with you, in whatever way we can. But I’m sorry; my brothers need me. And when I am needed by my brother, I go. That is who I am. There is no choice there for me.”

  Stara looked back at him, her glowing blue eyes filled with tears, and that look haunted Reece; it was a look, he knew, that he should not easily forget.

  “Go then!” she shouted.

  Stara turned on her heel and stormed away. She weaved in and out of the crowd on the ship, and Reece lost sight of her, before he could even attempt to console her.

  But he knew there was no consoling her. Their relationship was what it was. Reece didn’t fully understand it—but then again, he was not sure that he ever would.

  *

  Gwendolyn stood in the center of the ship amidst all of her advisors, the entire ship huddled together as they all debated where to sail next. The conversation was exhausting and intense, going around in circles, each with his own strong opinion. Gwen had asked Thorgrin to stay for it before he embarked, and he stood beside her, with the Legion, listening in. She was grateful that he was still here and hadn’t left yet. This decision was too important; she wanted him by her side. And most of all, she wanted to savor every moment with him before he left her side again.

  “We cannot return to the Ring,” Kendrick said, arguing with one of the people in the crowd. “It is destroyed. It would take generations to rebuild. And it is occupied.”

  “Nor can we return to the Upper Isles,” Aberthol chimed in. “There was little there for us before the dragons destroyed it, and now there is nothing there for us.”

  The group grumbled with discontent, and there came a long, agitated murmur.

  “Where else, then?” someone else yelled out. “Where else can we go?”

  “Our provisions run too low!” another yelled. “And our maps show no isles, no land, nothing anywhere near us!”

  “We shall die here on these ships!” another yelled.

  Again, there came a long murmur, her people ever more agitated.

  Gwendolyn shared their frustration, and she sympathized with them; she looked out to the horizon and was wondering the same thing. An endless sea lay before them, and she had no idea where to lead her people.

  Suddenly, Sandara stepped forward, into the center of the crowd, so tall and beautiful and noble and exotic, with her dark skin and glowing yellow eyes and her commanding presence; she was a proud and graceful woman who commanded attention, and all eyes turned to her. The crowd grew silent as she faced Gwendolyn.

  “You can go to my people,” she said.

  Gwen stared back at her in shock, and the silence deepened.

  “Your people?” Gwen asked.

  Sandara nodded.

  “They will take you in. I will see to it.”

  Gwen looked back, confused.

  “And where are your people?” she asked.

  “They inhabit a remote province. Outside the city of Volusia. The capital of the Northern region of the Empire.”

  “The Empire?” someone in the crowd yelled out in outrage, and there came a long, upset murmur from the crowd.

  “Would you have us all sail into the heart of the Empire?” a man called out.

  “Would you lead a lamb to slaughter?” another yelled.

  “Why not just surrender us to Romulus? Why not just kill us all right here?” another called out.

  Increasing murmurs of discontent arose from the crowd, until Kendrick finally stepped up to Sandara’s side, and protective of her, yelled out for silence, banging a staff on the deck.

  The crowd finally quieted, and Gwendolyn, not sure what to make of it all, faced Sandara. She knew her options were dim, but this seemed insane.

  “Explain yourself,” Gwen commanded.

  “You do not understand the Empire,” Sandara said, “because you have never been there. It is my homeland. The Empire is more vast than you can imagine, and it is fractured. Not all provinces think alike. There is inner conflict amongst them. It is a fragile alliance. The Empire was formed by the conquering of one people after the next, and the discontent amongst the conquered runs deep.

  “The Empire’s lands are so vast, there are places that remain hidden. Separatist regions. Yes, they have subjugated all of our free people, have made us all slaves. But there are still places, if you know where to look, where you can hide. My people will hide you. They have food and shelter. You can make land there, hide there, recover there, and then decide where you should go next.”

  A long silence fell over the ship.

  “What we need is a new home, not a place for shelter,” Aberthol pointed out, his voice old, strained.

  “Perhaps it shall become a home,” Godfrey said.

  “A home? In the Empire? In the lap of our enemy?” Srog said.

  “What other choice do we have?” Brandt said. “The Ring was the last unoccupied territory of the Empire. Anywhere we go will be Empire.”

  “And what of the Southern Isles?” Atme called out. “And Erec?”

  Kendrick shook his head.

  “We could never reach them. We are too far north. We don’t have provisions enough. And even if we did, we’d have to pass too close to the currents of the Ring, and we’d have to fight Romulus’s men.”

  “There must be some other place for us!” a man called out.

  The crowd broke into more shouts of discontent, arguing with each other.

  Gwendolyn stood there, holding Thor’s hand, and she pondered Sandara’s words. The more she considered it, as crazy as it was, the more she liked the idea.

  She raised a palm, and slowly, the crowd quieted.

  “The Empire will be combing the seas, searching for us,” Gwen said. “It will only be a matter of time until they hunt us down. But the last place they would look for us would be within the Empire, within their very own regions, and close to one of their capitals. Romulus has millions of men, and they will search the earth for us, and eventually they will find us. We need a new home, that is true, but right now, what we need above all, is a safe harbor. Fresh provisions. Shelter. And sailing right into the Empire would be the most counterintuitive move they could expect. Perhaps, paradoxically, we would be safest there.”

  The crowd quieted, looking back at Gwendolyn with respect, and she turned to Sandara. Gwen saw honesty and intelligence in her beautiful face, and she felt comfortable with her. Her brother loved her, and that was enough for Gwendolyn.

  “You may lead us to your home,” Gwendolyn said. “It is a sacred task, leading a people. We are putting ourselves at your mercy.”

  Sandara nodded solemnly.

  “And lead you there, I shall,” she replied. “I vow it. If I have to die trying.”

  Gwendolyn nodded back, satisfied.

  “It is done!” Gwen called out. “To the Empire we sail!”

  There came more agitated mumbling on deck, but also many shouts of excitement and approval, as her people immediately began to set sails for a new course.

  An angry citizen came up to Gwendolyn.

  “You better hope your plan works,” he scowled. “We have three ships, remember, and those of us who don’t agree can take one and leave you anytime we wish.”

  Gwen reddened, indignant.

  “You speak treason,” Thor growled, stepping forward, close to the man, hand on his sword.

  Gwen reached out and laid a reassuring hand on his, and Thor softened.

  “And where will you go?” Gwen asked the man calmly.

  The citizen glared.

  “Anywhere that is a place of common sense,” he snapped, and turned and stormed off.

  Gwen turned and exchan
ged a look with Thor. She was so happy he was still here, taking solace in his presence.

  Thor shook his head.

  “That was a bold decision,” he said. “I admire it greatly. And your father would have, too.”

  Thor prepared to embark, his Legion members standing near the small boat waiting to be lowered, and Gwen reached out and laid a hand on his wrist.

  He turned to her.

  “Before you go,” she said, I want you to meet someone.

  Gwen nodded, and Illepra stepped forward and handed her the baby she had rescued on the Upper Isles.

  Gwen held the child up to Thor, who looked back, eyes wide in surprise.

  “You saved her life,” Gwen said softly. “You appeared just in time. Your fate is linked with hers; as is mine. Her parents are dead; we are all she has. She is Guwayne’s age. Their fates are linked, too. I can feel it.”

  Thor’s eyes welled up as he examined her.

  “She is beautiful,” he said.

  “I cannot let her go,” Gwen said.

  “Nor should you,” Thor replied.

  Gwen nodded, satisfied that Thor felt as she.

  “I know you must go,” Gwen said. “But before you do, you must get a blessing. From Argon.”

  Thor looked back at her in surprise.

  “Argon?” he said. “Has he awoken?”

  Gwendolyn shook her head.

  “He has not spoken since the Upper Isles. He’s not dead, but he’s not alive either. Maybe for you, he would come back.”

  They walked across the ship, to the very end, until they came to Argon. He lay there, surrounded by her guards, on a stack of furs, hands across his chest, eyes closed.

  Gwen and Thor knelt by his side, and it broke Gwen’s heart to see him in this state—especially since his sacrifice for all of them had led him here.

  They each rested a hand on Argon’s shoulder as they knelt there, watching him patiently.

  “Argon?” Gwen asked softly.

  They waited, feeling the rocking of the waves. Gwen knew they could not wait much longer; Guwayne was out there, after all.

  Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Thor turned to her.

  “I cannot wait,” he said.

  Gwen nodded, understanding.

  As Thor began to rise, suddenly Gwen reached out and grabbed his wrist and pointed: Argon had opened his eyes.