Morgan Rice - A Land of Fire

“Lead her out of here,” Erec’s mother commanded.

Guards stepped forward and yanked Dauphine from the room as she kicked and screamed in protest. Strom joined them, and soon the room was completely empty except for Alistair and Erec’s mother. She stopped at the door, slowly turned, and faced Alistair. Alistair searched her face for any trace left of kindness and compassion.

“Please, you must believe me,” Alistair said earnestly. “I don’t care what the others think of me. But I do care about you. You were kind to me from the moment you met me. You know how much I love your son. You know I could never have done this.”

Erec’s mother examined her, and as her eyes watered, she seemed to vacillate.

“That is why you stayed behind, isn’t it?” Alistair pressed. “That is why you’ve lingered. Because you want to believe me. Because you know I am right.”

After a long silence, his mother finally nodded. As if coming to a decision, she took several steps toward her. Alistair could see that Erec’s mother really did believe her, and she was elated.

His mother rushed forward and embraced her, and Alistair hugged her back and cried over her shoulder. Erec’s mother cried, too, and finally, she stepped back.

“You must listen to me,” Alistair said urgently. “I care not for what happens to me, or what others think of me. But Erec—I must get to him. Now . He is dying. I’ve only partially healed him, and I need to finish. If I do not, he will die.”

His mother looked her up and down, as if finally realizing she was speaking the truth.

“After all that’s happened,” she said, “all you care about is my son. I can see now that you really do care for him—and that you could never have done this.”

“Of course not,” Alistair said. “I’ve been set up by that barbarian, Bowyer.”

“I will get you to Erec,” she said. “It may cost us our lives, but if so, we will die trying. Follow me.”

His mother unlocked her shackles, and Alistair quickly followed her out the cell, into the dungeons, and on their way to risk it all for Erec.

Gwendolyn stood on the bow of the ship, the ocean caressing her face, surrounded by all of her people, holding the rescued baby. All were in a state of shock as they sailed on the seas, already far from the Upper Isles. They were joined by just two ships, all that was left of the great fleet that had set sail from the Ring. Gwen’s people, her nation, all the proud citizens of the Ring, had been reduced to but several hundred survivors, a nation in exile, floating, homeless, looking for some place to start again. And they were all looking to her for leadership.

Gwen stared out at the sea, examining it as she had been for hours, immune to the cold spray of the ocean mist as she peered into the fog, as she tried to keep her heart from breaking. The baby in her arms had finally fallen asleep, and all Gwen could think of was Guwayne. She hated herself; she had been so stupid to let him sail away. At the time it had seemed like the best idea, had seemed like the only way to save him from the certain imminent death. Who could have foreseen the change of events, that the dragons would have been averted? If Thor had not appeared when he had, surely they would all be dead right now—and Gwen could never have expected that.

Gwen had managed, at least, to save some of her people, some of her fleet, to save this baby, and they had managed, at least, to escape from the isle of death. Yet Gwen still shuddered each time a roar of the dragons pierced the air, growing ever distant the farther they sailed. She closed her eyes and winced; she knew there was an epic battle being waged, and that Thor was in the middle of it. More than anything, she wanted to be there, by his side. Yet at the same time, she knew that would be futile. She would be useless as Thor fought those dragons, and she would just expose her people to getting killed.

Gwen kept seeing Thor’s face, and it tore her apart to see him again, only to then see him fly off just as quickly, without even a chance to speak to him, without even a moment to tell him how much she missed him, how much she loved him.

“My lady, we follow no course.”

Gwendolyn turned and saw, standing beside her, Kendrick—and beside him, Reece, Godfrey, and Steffen, all looking at her. Kendrick, she realized, had been trying to talk to her for a while now, but she had barely heard his words. She looked down and saw her knuckles, white, gripping the wood, then peered out to the ocean, checking every wave, thinking time and again she spotted Guwayne, only to see that it was but another illusion in this cruel, cruel sea.

“My lady,” Kendrick continued, patiently, “your people look to you for direction. We are lost. We need a destination.”

Gwen looked to him sadly.

“My baby is our destination,” she replied, voice heavy with grief as she turned and looked out over the rail.

“My lady, I am the first to want to find your son,” Reece added, “and yet, we do not know where we sail. Any of us would risk our lives for Guwayne—yet you must acknowledge that we do not know where he is. We have been sailing north for half a day—but what if the tides carried him south? Or east? West? What if our ships right now take us farther from him?”

“You don’t know that,” Gwen replied, defensive.

“Exactly,” Godfrey said. “We don’t know—that is the entire point. We don’t know anything. If we sail deeper into this vast ocean, we may not ever find Guwayne. And we may lead all of our people farther from a new home.”

Gwendolyn turned and stared at him, her eyes cold and hard.

“Don’t you ever say that,” she said. “I will find Guwayne. If it’s the last thing I do, with my last dying breath, I will find him.”

Godfrey looked down, and as Gwen scanned all of their faces, she could see the grief and patience and understanding in each one. And as her flash of indignation passed, she began to realize: they loved her. They loved Guwayne. And they were right.

Gwen sighed as she wiped a tear and turned and peered into the water, wondering: had Guwayne been swallowed by a wave? A shark? Had he died from the cold? She shook her head, dreading to think of the worst scenarios.

She also wondered if they were all right: was she, indeed, leading her people to nowhere? As desperate as she was to find Guwayne, her judgment was clouded. For all she knew, she could be leading them further from him. She knew this was not the time to crumple up, as much as she may want to; now was the time to think of others, to force herself to be strong.

Guwayne will come back to me , she told herself. If I don’t find him now, I will find him some other way.

Gwen forced herself to believe her thoughts as she prepared for a fateful decision; she could not go on living otherwise.

“All right,” she said, turning to them, sighing heavily. “We will change course.” Her tone had changed; it was now the voice of a commander, of a hardened Queen who had lost too much.

Her men all seemed relieved at her decision.

“And to where shall we set course, my lady?” Srog asked.

“Surely, we cannot return to the Upper Isles,” Aberthol added. “The isles are destroyed, and the dragons may return.”

“Nor can we return to the Ring,” Kendrick added. “It, too, is destroyed, and Romulus’s million men occupy it.”

Gwendolyn thought long and hard, realizing they were all right, and feeling more homeless than she’d ever had.

“We will have to set sail to a new land, and find a new home for our people,” she finally replied. “We cannot return to where we were. But before we do, first, we must return for Thorgrin.”