A Reign of Steel (3 page)

Kendrick
cried out and kicked his horse even harder as he led his men and they all burst
forward in one last charge. He picked up a long spear and as he got close
enough, he hurled it; one of the McCloud generals turned just in time to see
the spear sail through the air and pierce his chest, the throw strong enough to
penetrate his armor.

The
thousand knights behind Kendrick let out a great shout: the Silver had arrived.

The
McClouds turned and saw them, and for the first time, they had real fear in
their eyes. A thousand shining Silver knights, all of them riding in perfect
unison, like a storm coming down the mountain, all with weapons drawn, all
hardened killers, none with an ounce of hesitation in their eyes. The McClouds
turned to face them, but with trepidation.

The
Silver descended upon them, upon their home city, Kendrick leading the charge. He
drew his ax and swung expertly, chopping several soldiers from their horses; he
then drew a sword with his other hand, and riding into the thick of the crowd,
stabbed several soldiers in all the vulnerable points of their armor.

The
Silver bore right through the mass of soldiers like a wave of destruction, as
they were so expert at doing, none of them at home until they were completely
surrounded in the thick of battle. For a member of the Silver, that’s what it
meant to be at home. They slashed and stabbed all the McCloud soldiers around
them, who were like amateurs compared to them, cries rising greater and greater
as they felled McClouds in every direction

No
one could stop the Silver, who were too fast and sleek and strong and expert in
their technique, fighting as one unit, as they had been trained to do since
they could walk. Their momentum and skill terrified the McClouds, who were like
common soldiers next to these finely trained knights. Elden, Conven, O’Connor
and the remaining Legion, rescued by the reinforcements, rose back to their
feet, however wounded, and joined the fight, helping the Silver’s momentum even
further.

Within
moments, hundreds of McClouds lay dead, and those that remained were overtaken
by a great panic. One by one, they began to turn and flee, McClouds pouring out
of the city gates, trying to get away from King’s Court.

Kendrick
was determined not to let them. He rode to the city gates, his men following, and
made sure to block the path of all those retreating. It was a funnel effect,
and McClouds were slaughtered as they reached the bottleneck of the city
gates—the very same gates they had stormed but hours before.

As
Kendrick wielded two swords, killing men left and right, he knew that soon,
every McCloud would be dead, and King’s Court would be theirs once again. As he
risked his life for the sake of his soil, he knew that this was what it meant
to be alive.

Luanda
’s hands trembled as she walked, one step at a time,
across the vast Canyon crossing. With each step, she felt her life coming to an
end, felt herself leaving one world and about to enter another. But steps away
from reaching the other side, she felt as if these were her last steps on earth.

Standing
just feet away was Romulus, and behind him, his million Empire soldiers. Circling
high overhead, with an unearthly screeching, flew dozens of dragons, the
fiercest creatures Luanda had ever laid eyes upon, slamming their wings against
the invisible wall that was the Shield. Luanda knew that, with just a few more
steps, with her leaving the Ring, the Shield would come down for good.

Luanda
looked out at the destiny that stood waiting before
her, at the sure death that she faced at the hands of Romulus and his brutal
men. But this time, she no longer cared. Everything that she loved had already
been taken from her. Her husband, Bronson, the man she loved most in the world,
had been killed—and it was all Gwendolyn’s fault. She blamed Gwendolyn for
everything. Now, finally, it was time for vengeance.

Luanda
stopped a foot away from Romulus, the two of them
locking eyes, staring at each other over the invisible line. He was a grotesque
man, twice as wide as any man should ever be, pure muscle, so much muscle in
his shoulders that his neck disappeared. His face was all jaw, with roving,
large black eyes, like marbles, and his head was too big for his body. He
stared at her like a dragon looking down at its prey, and she had no doubt that
he would tear her to pieces.

They
stared each other in the thick silence, and a cruel smile spread across his
face, along with a look of surprise.

“I
never thought to see you again,” he said. His voice was deep and guttural,
echoing in this awful place.

Luanda
closed her eyes and tried to make Romulus disappear. Tried
to make her life disappear.

But
when she opened her eyes, he was still there.

“My
sister has betrayed me,” she answered softly. “And now it is time for me to
betray her.”

Luanda
closed her eyes and took one final step, off the
bridge, onto the far side of the Canyon.

As
she did, there came a thunderous whooshing noise behind her; swirling mist shot
up into the air from the bottom of the Canyon, like a great wave rising, and
just as suddenly dropped back down again. There was a sound, as of the earth
cracking, and Luanda knew with certainty that the Shield was down. That now,
nothing remained between Romulus’s army and the Ring. And that the Shield had
been broken forever.

Romulus
looked down at her, as Luanda bravely stood a foot
away, facing him, unflinching, staring back defiantly. She felt fear but did
not show it. She did not want to give Romulus the satisfaction. She wanted him
to kill her when she was staring him in the face. At least that would give her
something. She just wanted him to get it over with.

Instead,
Romulus’s smile broadened, and he continued to stare directly at her, rather
than at the bridge, as she expected he would.

“You
have what you want,” she said, puzzled. “The Shield is down. The Ring is yours.
Aren’t you going to kill me now?”

He
shook his head.

“You
are not what I expected,” he finally said, summing her up. “I might let you
live. I might even take you as my wife.”

Luanda
gagged inside at the thought; this was not the
reaction she’d wanted.

She
leaned back and spit in his face, hoping that would get him to kill her.

Romulus
reached up and wiped his face with the back of his
hand, and Luanda braced herself for the blow to come, expecting him to punch her
as before, to shatter her jaw—to do anything but be nice to her. Instead, he stepped
forward, grabbed her by the back of her hair, pulled her to him, and kissed her
hard.

She
felt his lips, grotesque, chapped, all muscle, like a snake, as he pressed her
to him, harder and harder, so hard she could barely breathe.

Finally,
he pulled away—and as he did, he backhanded her, smacking her so hard her skin
stung.

She
looked up at him, horrified, filled with disgust, not understanding him.

“Chain
her and keep her close to me,” he commanded. He had barely finished uttering
the words before his men stepped forward and bound her arms behind her back.

Romulus
’s eyes widened with delight as he stepped forward in
front of his men, and, bracing himself, took the first step onto the bridge.

There
was no Shield to stop him. He stood there safe and sound.

Romulus
broke into a wide grin, then burst out laughing,
holding his muscular arms out wide as he flung back his head. He roared with
laughter, with triumph, the sound echoing throughout the Canyon.

“It
is mine,” he boomed. “All mine!”

His
voice echoed, again and again.

“Men,”
he added. “Invade!”

His
troops suddenly rushed past him, letting out a great cheer that was met, high
above, by the host of dragons, who flapped their wings and flew, soaring above
the Canyon. They entered the swirling mist, screeching, a great noise that rose
to the very heavens, that let the world know that the Ring would never be the
same again.

Alistair
lay in Erec’s arms on the bow of the huge ship, which rocked gently up and down
as the huge ocean waves rolled past again and again. She looked up, mesmerized,
at the million red stars blanketing the night sky, sparkling in the distance;
warm ocean breezes rolled in, caressing her, lulling her to sleep. She felt
content. Just being here, together with Erec, her whole world felt at peace;
here, in this part of the world, on this vast ocean, it felt as if all the
troubles in the world had disappeared. Endless obstacles had kept the two of
them apart and now, finally, her dreams were coming true. They were together,
and there was no one and nothing left to stand between them. They had already
set sail, were already on their way to his islands, his homeland, and when they
arrived, she would marry him. There was nothing she wanted more in the world.

Erec
squeezed her tight, and she leaned in closer to him as the two of them leaned
back, looking up at the universe, the gentle ocean mist washing over them. Her
eyes grew heavy in the quiet ocean night.

As
she looked out at the open sky, she thought of how huge the world was; she
thought of her brother, Thorgrin, out there somewhere, and she wondered where
he was right now. She knew he was on his way to see their mother. Would he find
her? What would she be like? Did she even really exist?

A
part of Alistair wanted to join him on the journey, to meet their mother, too;
and another part of her missed the Ring already, and wanted to be back home on
familiar ground. But the biggest part of her was excited; she was excited to
start life again, together with Erec, in a new place, a new part of the world.
She was excited to meet his people, to see what his homeland was like. Who
lived in the Southern Isles? she wondered. What were his people like? Would his
family take him in? Would they be happy to have her, or would they be
threatened by her? Would they welcome the idea of their wedding? Or had they envisioned
someone else, one of their own, for Erec?

Worst
of all, what she dreaded most—what would they think of her once they found out
about her powers? Once they found out that she was a Druid? Would they consider
her a freak, an outsider, like everyone else?

“Tell
me again of your people,” Alistair said to Erec.

He
looked at her, then looked backed out at the sky.

“What
would you like to know?”

“Tell
me about your family,” she said.

Erec
reflected in the silence for a long time. Finally, he spoke:

“My
father, he is a great man. He’s been king of our people ever since he was my
age. His looming death will change our island forever.”

“And
have you any other family?”

Erec
hesitated a long time, then finally nodded.

“Yes.
I have a sister…and a brother.” He hesitated. “My sister and I, we were very
close growing up. But I must warn you, she’s very territorial and too easily
jealous. She’s wary of outsiders, and does not like new people in our family.
And my brother…” Erec trailed off.

Alistair
prodded him.

“What
is it?”

“A
finer fighter you will never meet. But he is my younger brother, and he has
always set himself in competition with me. I have always viewed him as a
brother, and he has always viewed me as competition, as someone who stands in
his way. I do not know why. It just is how it is. I wish we could be closer.”

Alistair
looked at him, surprised. She could not understand how anyone could look at Erec
with anything but love.

“And
is it still that way?” she asked.

Erec
shrugged.

“I
have not seen any of them since I was a child. It is my first return to my
homeland; nearly thirty sun cycles have passed. I do not know what to expect. I
am more a product of the Ring now. And yet if my father dies…I am the eldest.
My people will look to me to rule.”

Alistair
paused, wondering, not wanting to pry.

“And
will you?”

Erec
shrugged.

“It
is not something I seek. But if my father wishes…I cannot say no.”

Alistair
studied him.

“You
love him very much.”

Erec
nodded, and she could see his eyes glistening in the starlight.

“I
only pray our ship arrives in time before he dies.”

Alistair
considered his words.

“And
what of your mother?” she asked. “Would she like me?”

Erec
smiled wide.

“Like
a daughter,” he said. “For she will see how much I love you.”

They
kissed, and Alistair leaned back and looked at the sky, reaching over and grasping
Erec’s hand.

“Just
remember this, my lady. I love you. You above all else. That is all that
matters. My people shall give us the greatest wedding that the Southern Isles
have ever seen; they will shower us with every festivity. And you will be loved
and embraced by all of them.”

Alistair
studied the stars, holding Erec’s hand tight, and she wondered. She had no
doubt of his love for her, but she wondered about his people, people he himself
barely knew. Would they embrace her as he thought they would? She was not so
sure.

Suddenly,
Alistair heard heavy footsteps. She looked over to see one of the ship’s crew
walk over to the edge of the railing, hoist a large dead fish over his head,
and throw it overboard. There was a gentle splash below, and soon a bigger
splash, as another fish leapt up and ate it.

There
then followed an awful sound in the waters below, like a moaning or crying,
followed by another splash.

Alistair
looked over at the sailor, an unsavory character, unshaven, dressed in rags,
with missing teeth, as he leaned over the edge, grinning like an oaf. He turned
and looked right at her, his face evil, grotesque in the starlight. Alistair
got a terrible feeling as he did.

“What
did you throw overboard?” Erec asked.

“The
guts of a simka fish,” he replied.

“But
why?”

“It’s
poison,” he replied, grinning. “Any fish that eats it dies on the spot.”

Alistair
looked at him, horrified.

“But
why would you want to kill the fish?”

The
man smiled more broadly.

“I
like to watch them die. I like to hear them scream, and I like to see them
float, belly up. It’s fun.”

The
man turned and walked slowly back to the rest of his crew, and as Alistair
watched him go, she felt her skin crawl.

“What
is it?” Erec asked her.

Alistair
looked away and shook her head, trying to make her feeling go away. But it
would not; it was an awful premonition, she was not sure of what.

“Nothing,
my lord,” she said.

She
settled back into his arms, trying to tell herself that everything was all
right. But she knew, deep down, that it was very far from all right.

*

Erec
woke in the night, feeling the ship moving slowly up and down, and he knew
immediately that something was wrong. It was the warrior within him, the part
of him that had always warned him an instant before something bad happened. He’d
always had the sense, ever since he was a boy.

He
sat up quickly, alert, and looked all around. He turned and saw Alistair soundly
asleep beside him. It was still dark, the boat still rocking on the waves, yet
something was wrong. He looked all around, but saw no sign of anything amiss.

What
danger could there be, he wondered, out here in the middle of nowhere? Was it
just a dream?

Erec,
trusting his instincts, reached down to grab his sword. But before his hand could
grab the hilt, he suddenly felt a heavy net covering his body, draping down all
around him. It was made of the heaviest rope he’d ever felt, nearly heavy
enough to crush a man, and it landed all over him at once, tight all around him.

Before
he could react, he felt himself being hoisted high into the air, the net
catching him like an animal, its ropes so tight around him that he could not
even move, his shoulders and arms and wrists and feet all constrained, crushed together.
He was hoisted higher and higher, until he found himself a good twenty feet
above the deck, dangling, like an animal caught in a trap.

Erec’s
heart slammed in his chest as he tried to understand what was going on. He
looked down and saw Alistair below him, waking up.

“Alistair!”
Erec called out.

Down
below, she looked everywhere for him, and when she finally looked up and saw
him, her face fell.

“EREC!”
she yelled, confused.

Erec
watched as several dozen crew members, bearing torches, approached her. They
all wore grotesque smiles, evil in their eyes, as they closed in on her.

“It’s
about time he shared her,” one of them said.

“I’m
going to teach this princess what it means to live with a sailor!” another said

The
group broke into laughter.

“After
me,” another one said.

“Not
before I’ve had my fill first,” another said.

Erec
struggled to break free with all that he had as they continued to close in on
her. But it was to no avail. His shoulders and arms were clamped so tightly, he
could not even wiggle them.

“ALISTAIR!”
he screamed, desperate.

He
was helpless to do anything but watch as he dangled above.

Three
sailors suddenly pounced on Alistair from behind; Alistair screamed out as they
pulled her to her feet, tore her shirt, yanked her arms behind her back. They
held her tight as several more sailors approached.

Erec
scanned the ship for any sign of the captain; he saw him on the upper deck,
looking down, watching all of it.

“Captain!”
Erec yelled. “This is your ship. Do something!”

The
captain looked at him, then slowly turned his back on the whole scene, as if not
wanting to watch it.

Erec
watched, desperate, as a sailor pulled a knife and held it to Alistair’s
throat, and Alistair cried out.

“NO!”
Erec yelled.

It
was like watching a nightmare unfold beneath him—and worst of all, there was
nothing he could do.