Morgan Rice: A Sea of Shields

“It would remove any ounce of independence our people still have,” Falus chimed in.

“The plans are already in motion,” Karus added. “And we must find a way to stop them.”

They waited for a response, but Tirus slowly shook his head.

“Stupid, stupid boys,” he said slowly, his voice dark, shaking his head again and again. “Why did I raise such stupid boys? Have I taught you nothing all these years? You still look at what’s in front of you, and not what’s beyond.”

“We do not understand, Father.”

Tirus grimaced.

“And that is why I am in this position. That is why you are not ruling now. Stopping this union would be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, and the worst thing that could happen to our island. If our Stara marries Reece, that would be the greatest thing that could ever happen for all of us.”

They looked back, confused, not understanding.

“Greatest? How so?”

Tirus sighed, impatient.

“If our two families merge, Gwendolyn cannot keep me imprisoned here. She would have no choice but to set me free. It would change everything. It would not strip us of power—it would give us power. We would be legitimate MacGils, on the same footing as those on the mainland. Gwendolyn would be beholden to us. Don’t you see?” he asked. “A child of Reece and Stara would be as much our child as theirs.”

“But Father, it is not natural. They are cousins.”

Tirus shook his head.

“Politics are not natural, my son. But this union will happen,” he insisted, determination in his voice. “And you two will do everything in your power to make it happen.”

Karus cleared his throat, nervous, uncertain now.

“But Reece has already sailed for the mainland,” he said. “It is too late. Reece, we hear, has already made up his mind.”

Tirus reached up and smacked the iron bars, as if wishing to smack Karus’s face, and Karus jumped back, startled.

“You are even stupider than I thought,” Tirus said. “You will make certain it happens. Men have changed their minds over lesser things than this. And you will make certain that Reece changes his mind.”

“How?” Falus asked.

Tirus stood there thinking, stroking his beard for a long while. For the first time in many moons, his eyes were working, darting, thinking, formulating a plan. For the first time, there was hope and optimism in his eyes.

“This girl, Selese, the one he is about to marry,” Tirus said finally. “She must be gotten to. You will find her. You will bring evidence…evidence of Reece and Stara’s love. You will tell her firsthand, before he reaches her. You will be sure that she knows that Reece is in love with someone else. That way, in case Reece changes his mind before he reaches her, it will be too late. We will be assured of their breakup.”

“But what evidence do we have of their love?” Karus asked.

Tirus rubbed his beard, thinking. Finally, he perked up.

“Do you remember those scrolls? The ones we intercepted when Stara was young? The love letters she penned to Reece? The letters he penned back to her?”

Karus and Falus nodded.

“Yes,” Falus said. “We intercepted the falcons.”

Tirus nodded.

“They remain in my castle. Bring them to her. Tell her they are recent, and make it convincing. She will never guess their age—and all will be finished.”

Karus and Falus finally nodded, smiling, realizing the depth of their father’s cunning and wisdom.

Tirus smiled back, for the first time in as long as they could remember.

“Our island will rise again.”

Thor sat atop his horse, leading it up and down the lines of Legion recruits, all of the eager boys lined up, standing at attention before him in the Legion’s new arena.

Thor looked out at the dozens and dozens of new faces, examined each one carefully, and felt the weight of responsibility. New recruits had poured in from all over the Ring, all eager to join the newly rebuilt Legion. It was a daunting task to choose the next crop of warriors, the men upon whom the Ring would rely in the coming years.

A part of Thorgrin felt that he did not deserve to be here; after all, it was not so many moons ago that he himself was hoping to be picked by the Legion. As he thought back on it, it felt like a lifetime ago, before he’d met Gwen, before he’d had a child, before he’d become a warrior. Now here he was, tasked to rebuild it, to find replacements for all the brave souls that had been killed defending the Ring.

As Thor looked out past the boys, he saw the graveyard he’d had erected, all the markers rising from the earth shining in the late afternoon suns, reminding them always of the Legion they had known. It had been Thor’s idea to bury them here, on the periphery of the new arena, so that they could always be with them, always be remembered, and watch over the new recruits. Thor could feel their spirits hovering over him, helping him, urging him on.

Knowing that his Legion brothers, Reece and Conven and Elden and O’Connor, were all spread throughout the Ring on various tasks, Thor felt comfortable, at least, that he was the one who remained here, close to home, to focus on this task. He’d also been Captain of the Legion, so it felt almost natural he should be the one tasked with rebuilding it.

Thor looked at the dozens of boys before him, and he had high hopes for some, but not for others. They did their best to stand at attention as he came close, and he could tell that some of them were just not warriors; others could be, yet they would need much training. There was an untested look in all their eyes, a look of anxiety, of fear of what was to come.

“Men!” Thor called out. “Because you are all men now, regardless of your age. The day you take up arms to defend your homeland, to risk your life with your brothers, you become a man. If you join the Legion, you will fight for honor, valor. That is what forms a man, not your age. Is that understood?”

“YES SIR!” they all screamed back.

“I have fought with men twice my age who have died beside me,” Thor continued. “Being older did not make them any more of a man than I. Nor did it make them better warriors. You become a man by taking on manly duties; and you become a better warrior by bettering yourselves.”

“YES SIR!”

Thor guided his horse slowly up and down the ranks, observing, weighing each recruit, looking them in the eye.

“A spot in the Legion is a sacred thing. There is no greater honor the Ring can bestow. It will be handed to no one. It is more than position. It is a code. A code of brotherhood. Once you join it, you no longer live to defend yourself. You live to defend your brothers.”

“YES SIR!”

Thor dismounted. He walked slowly, turned and looked out to the field behind him, the newly rebuilt arena.

“There, in the distance, lie a dozen targets. Before you, spears lie on the ground. There is one spear for each of you. You have one chance to hit the target. Show me what you have,” Thor said, walking off to the side, watching.

The boys rushed forward, each racing to grab one of the spears lodged in the ground. Excited, each one hurled his spear, each wanting to be first to hit the target of hay about thirty yards away.

Thor watched their technique with a professional eye. He was not surprised to see that nearly all of them missed.

Only a small handful of boys managed to hit their targets. And none of these hit the center.

Thor shook his head slowly. This would be a long and painful process, he knew. He wondered if he would ever find boys skilled enough to fill the shoes of the others. He had to remind himself what he and his brothers were like on their first day.