Morgan Rice - A Rite of Swords

“I am sorry,” he said to her. “I didn’t know what to say. Or if I’d be coming back.”

She looked into his eyes.

“All you had to say was that you cared about me.”

Reece met her gaze.

“More than you shall ever know, my lady.”

She smiled back, and her whole face lit up, covered in freckles.

“If I return,” Reece added, “we shall marry.”

Her eyes opened wide in surprise.

“ When you return,” she said, reaching out and fixing his breastplate, adjusting it, running her hands over. He saw a tear roll down her cheek.

“You have no choice,” she said. “Return to me. We’re not married, but if you die, I shall be a widow.”

She looked up and met his eyes, and Reece met hers, and he felt his world melt. It meant the world to him to hear that she cared for him as much as he did for her. It was painful for him to leave, looking at that face, knowing she would be left here alone, unprotected. He felt more of a burden than ever to be victorious on this day, and he resolved that he would.

She grabbed his breastplate, leaned in and kissed him, and he held the kiss for as long as he possibly could.

Finally, jostled by his men, he turned and melted back into the parade of humanity heading out the gates. He turned back and watched her, and she him, for as long as he was able, until finally she receded from sight.

Reece saw he was not alone in saying goodbye to someone he loved: up ahead, Kendrick walked hand-in-hand with Sandara, and he watched them saying their goodbyes. She was tall, with broad shoulders, had a proud bearing, and the dark skin of the Empire. Reece could see that she and Kendrick were well-matched.

As he got closer, he overheard their conversation.

“I wish for you to stay here, behind the safety of these walls,” Kendrick said to her.

“It is not my way, my lord,” she replied. “I go with the men, as I’ve done my entire life. When the wounded fall, I shall be there to heal them. The same way I was there to heal you. It is what I do. It is who I am.”

“I will be with my men, at the front of battle,” Kendrick said. “I will not be able to protect you.”

“I do not seek your protection,” she said. “I have fended for myself my entire life.”

They continued walking in silence. Kendrick turned to join his men, and she stopped and said to him:

“I don’t know where we shall find each other. But promise me one thing.”

Kendrick turned to her.

“You will not be among the wounded.”

He smiled.

“That is one promise I cannot make.”

They kissed.

As Reece rejoined his legion brothers, he found Elden embroiled in a similar conversation with Indra, who stood proudly by his side and who shook off his hand as he tried to hold hers. She was too masculine, too much of a warrior for that.

“You cannot fight with us,” Elden insisted. “It is not safe.”

“You are a woman,” Krog said. “You should know your place.”

She turned and have him a look of death.

“I am as good of warrior as you,” she replied defiantly. “I carry weapons as fine as yours, my daggers are just as quick, and my arrows as fast. I can slice any man’s throat as well as you. I may just slice yours. In fact, perhaps it is you who should stay behind.”

Krog stared back, red-faced.

Indra turned back to Elden.

“I will fight by your side, or you will not see my face again. The decision is yours.”

Elden sighed, and eventually shrugged. Indra was as strong-willed as they came, and there was no use trying to convince her. Besides, after all this time together with her in the Empire, after all the times she had saved their lives, she had become like a member of the legion. Indra was a survivor, and he had no worries about her.

Reece came up beside Conven, who looked as morose as ever; he blended in well, with all the somber faces around him, the men mentally preparing for battle. Reece could see in his eyes that he had nothing to lose, that he was ready to throw down his life, and Reece seriously wondered if Conven would survive this battle. He could sense that he did not want to. Not without his twin brother.

O’Connor oiled his new long bow and wore his ever present smile, in his chipper mood, as always. Whether he was in the Empire or back in the Ring, O’Connor seemed at home everywhere. Reece was glad to have his steady hand at his side as they all rode into battle.

Serna and Krog walked tentatively beside them. Reece could see the anxiety in their strides; they had not undergone the quest they had in the Empire, had not faced the same travails that they had undergone. Reece could recognize in them their anxiety, the way he’d once felt. It made Reece feel like a veteran.

There was Godfrey, not far off, his older brother, and Reece was proud to see him in a suit of armor, even if it did not seem to fit him quite perfectly. Godfrey marched with a swagger, flanked by Akorth and Fulton, leading several hundred men. Reece wondered if they were drunk; certainly Akorth and Fulton were, obvious from their gait. It was funny to see Godfrey in charge: on the one hand, it didn’t quite fit him, yet at the same time, somehow it did. Reece thought that he could see something of their father in him. Godfrey might not be a warrior, but he was a survivor, and a crafty one. Reece felt that Godfrey could outwit anyone. And he had a feeling that no matter what, he would find a way to survive, even if he did it his own way.

They all finally reached their horses, Reece picking out his in the vast sea of animals.

Reece stood there, about to mount his horse, when he spotted something out of the corner of his eye that made him turn. It was a face, staring back at him from the sea of onlookers. He did a double-take, assuming he was imagining it.

But as he looked closer, his heart stopped as he saw who it was. Standing there, in the midst of the people, was a girl whose face he had etched into his mind for most of his childhood. A girl who had never been far from his thoughts, at least not until he met Selese. Standing there was his cousin, Tirus’ only daughter.

Stara.

She stared back at him, her glowing green eyes clearly locked just on his, even in the mass of people. She was too far away to speak to, and with the tide of soldiers coming in and out, he lost sight of her, then regained her again. She looked like an apparition, floating in a sea.

It pained him to see her. Why did she have to be here? Why now? After he had already fallen in love with someone else? It had taken him years to let her go. But seeing her brought it all back again, the pain fresh.

Reece forced himself to turn and look away. He loved Selese now; it wouldn’t be fair to her to look at anyone else.

As he mounted his horse, despite himself, he turned and glanced back for Stara. He was flooded with both relief and upset to see that she was gone.

A horn sounded, and a messenger came galloping across the landscape, racing right up to Kendrick. Reece and the others gathered close, listening.

“My Lord,” the messenger said, gasping for breath. “I have news…the Destiny Sword—Andronicus has sent it away.”

There came a horrified gasp from the men as the messenger stood there, heaving, catching his breath.

“Speak clearly,” Kendrick ordered. “What do you mean, ‘sent it away’?”

“It is being sent now to the other side of the Canyon. If it crosses, the Shield will be down. All will be lost!”

“We must retrieve it at once!” Tirus, close by, called out.

“It must be out foremost objective,” Erec called out.

“But we cannot spare the men,” Kendrick said.

“We need but a small group to go after the Sword,” Godfrey said. “Not an entire division.”