A Sea of Shields (Book #10 in the Sorcerer's Ring) (9 page)

Thor held Guwayne in his arms as he walked beside Gwen, the two of them leading the procession of thousands to the mountaintop. Krohn was at their feet, and behind them followed an endless line of Gwen’s devoted subjects, well-wishers, all excited to witness the initiation ceremony of the baby, the sacred ritual that would mark the baby’s transition into life. As Guwayne was born into the warrior class, and as he was a member of the royal family, Argon himself would be the one to preside over the ancient and mystical ceremony, which would be held at the very
peak
of King’s Hill.

Usually, a baby’s initiation was witnessed by a devoted few; but Gwen and Thor were so loved by the people—who were so excited for their child—that the flock behind them was growing and growing. The Ring was ecstatic. After all the gloom, finally, the people had cause, true cause, to celebrate. An heir to the throne had been born, and even better, it was Gwendolyn’s boy, the child of a Queen they loved more than any who had come before her. All the outpouring of love they had for Gwendolyn, they could now direct to her boy as well.

Thor, too, was equally loved amongst the people—most of whom viewed him as their savior, as the greatest warrior they had ever had, already the stuff of legend—and for a child to arrive who was the product of Thorgrin and Gwendolyn’s union, it might as well have been the child of the people itself. They all followed Thor and Gwen excitedly, like overeager grandparents, and as Thor glanced back over his shoulder he saw thousands and thousands of people, snaking around the mountain, all the way back to the gates of King’s Court.

The initiation was more than a mere ceremony; it was also a sacred time, a time of great omens, and the entire kingdom would watch carefully to see if any signs or omens would mark the initiation of this child. Already, legend had spread far and wide of Guwayne’s auspicious birth, of the signs and omens that had appeared with the arrival of the child; already, the kingdom saw this child as more than a mere person. There already existed rampant speculation about the destiny of this boy, and these people no doubt were eager to see for themselves if any omens were present at the child’s initiation.

Thor’s heart pounded himself with excitement and anticipation. As he held his son in his arms, wrapped in his blanket, close to his chest, he felt a heat and power rush over him. Thor felt a tremendous bond with his child, more than he could ever express. As Thor looked down into his son’s face, Guwayne opened his eyes and stared back into Thor’s, and Thor felt a connection with him from another time, another realm. He had a child. A
son
. He still could not believe it. He felt an overwhelming rush of love for him, and felt more protective of him than he could say.

Thor also felt protective of Gwendolyn, who walked slowly by his side, still recovering from her delivery. They walked as slowly as they could, at her pace, pausing every so often so she could catch her breath. Thor was elated to see she was okay, back on her feet. It had been an emotional few days for her, not only with the birth of the baby, but with the ongoing death watch for her mother. She still lived, but the entire kingdom was anticipating the royal bells that could ring out at any moment, any day, any hour, to announce her death. It was an ominous time. Yet it was also a propitious time, and it was all keeping Gwendolyn in an emotional storm.

Thor thought back to how intense it had been, at Gwen’s mother’s bedside, watching the two of them interact. It had made Thor think of his own mother. Seeing Gwen’s mother dying like that had made Thor realize how precious life was, had made him feel a renewed sense of urgency to see his own mother. What if, he thought with dread, his mother died before he ever even had a chance to greet her?

He would never be able to live with himself; it would leave him with an emptiness, and a sense of guilt, that he could not fathom. It would also make him feel as if his own destiny were incomplete. Thor resolved, once again, to go and seek her out as soon as he could. Now that his child was born, he felt it was time. First, of course, he must stay for his marriage to Gwen; he could not depart before that. But as soon as it was over, he decided, he would depart. He had no choice. He loved Gwen and Guwayne desperately, and he would come back for them and stay by their side his entire life. But first, he had to complete his destiny. He felt, he did not know why, that the very future of the Ring was at stake.

“I am proud of you,” Gwen whispered to him, turning to him and smiling and laying a gentle hand on his wrist.

“For what, my love?” Thor asked, puzzled.

“The Silver,” she said. “I heard.
Sir
Thorgrinson,” she added, her smile broadening.

Thor smiled back; he had been so preoccupied with Guwayne, he had not even thought of it. But now that she mentioned it, it all came rushing back, and he replayed in his mind the ceremony, the armor. He felt like a new man inside. Stronger. More substantial.

As they walked, circling higher and higher up the mountain, Thor was taken aback at the sweeping vistas, the views from up here in the Valley of Fire. This was a strange and haunting place, just west of King’s Court, a valley of ancient and dried up volcanoes, dozens and dozens of them, rising up from the earth, dormant, as they had been for thousands of years. They towered over King’s Court, an ancient reminder of what had once been. It also, of course, made for a natural defense for the city, which was why, Thor figured, King’s Court had been built here to begin with.

As Thor ascended higher and higher, he could see the peaks of the dried up volcanoes, none of which he had ever seen in his lifetime. They were beautiful, gaping. There was a slight smell in the air, as if of a sulfur that had once been, that had seeped into the ground. Thor’s boots slid in the dry dirt and gravel beneath his feet as they neared the mountain top, a strong breeze getting stronger as they crested its peak, carrying a cool wind despite the summer day.

Thor looked down and saw summer’s bounty spreading out all over King’s Court, fields of grain swaying in the wind, entire valleys of orchards, abundance beyond belief. Except for here, this dead
Valley
of
F
ire
, like a stark reminder that all this bounty could one day disappear.

“He’s here,” Gwen said, beside him.

Thor looked up and saw Argon standing at the top, dressed in his white cloak and hood, holding his staff, looking down on them all, expressionless, like a shepherd awaiting his flock. Thor flooded with relief. Without Argon, the ceremony could not take place—and one never knew if Argon would appear.

They crested the very top of the ancient volcano, and as Thor and Gwen took their place at its peak, beside Argon, the three of them turned and looked down into the center of the volcano. The terrain sloped down gently, for about twenty feet, loose sand and rock, then leveled out in a plateau at the top, shaped in a perfect circle, perhaps a hundred yards in diameter, on which sat an ice-blue lake. It reflected the sky, the clouds, and the two suns, and the sight took Thor’s breath away. They made their way to the water’s edge, and behind them, Thor heard the gentle footsteps of thousands of people cresting the ridge, coming up behind them to the shores of the lake.

As they stood there, Argon turned to Thor, held out both hands, and looked to the child.

Thor found himself clutching his boy, reluctant to let him go; he felt a gentle hand on his forearm, and looked over at Gwen, and she nodded back.

“It’s okay,” she said. “Let him go.”

Thor reluctantly reached out and placed Guwayne in Argon’s arms.

The second he did, the silent sky filled with the sound of Guwayne’s screams and cries. Thor felt his heart break at the sound. Thor felt an emptiness, a hollow feeling, as Guwayne’s warmth left his arms.

Argon held Guwayne close, and slowly, his crying stopped. Argon unswaddled him, one layer at a time, until Guwayne was completely naked. Argon then held the boy up high to the sky, over his head, and he turned and faced the people.

“In the name of the seven forefathers, in the name of the ancient pillars, in the name of the fields of light and the fields of gray, of all four winds and the great divide, I call upon all the gods that ever were and all the gods there will ever be to bless this child. Endow him with the strength of his father, the spirit of his mother. Infuse him to carry on the royal bloodline of the MacGils. Give us all a great warrior, and a great leader of men.”

The congregation cheered in approval, and Argon turned, knelt beside the water, lay the baby on his back, and immersed him in the water.

Gwen gasped and rushed forward instinctively to save him—but Thor clutched her wrist. It was now his time to reassure her.

Argon raised him from the water, and Guwayne screamed. Argon immersed him again. Then, a third time.

As Argon finally raised him up high overhead, the crowd all took a knee and lowered their heads. Guwayne screamed, and as he did, Thor was shocked as the earth beneath him suddenly began to shake. Everyone looked to each other in fear and wonder, as a great earthquake shook the ground, all of them stumbling, Gwen clutching Thor’s wrist.

“What is happening?” she asked. “Is it the boy?”

Suddenly, all around them, there came tremendous explosions.

Thor looked up, and he was amazed to see all the volcanoes around them exploding, bursting up into the air, great plumes of smoke filling the summer sky, and sparks and molten fire following. The volcanoes were far enough away that Thor could not feel their heat from here. But he was in awe at the sight, at their beauty, dozens of volcanoes shooting molten fire into the air, volcanoes that had been dormant for centuries. It had happened at an auspicious moment, and Thor knew it had tremendous meaning. All the people looked to each other in terror and wonder. Even Argon looked down at the boy in wonder, clearly awestruck.

Who was this boy?

Thor did not know. But he did know, he could sense it in every ounce of his being, that his child was more powerful than anything he had ever known.

Alistair stood on the roof of the small fort, running her hand along the ancient stone parapets as she looked out over the countryside of the Ring on this brilliant, beautiful summer day. From up here, surrounded by nothing but rolling hills, she looked out and saw fields of tall lime-green and violet grass, swaying in the wind, shining in the sun, rustling, as if happy to be alive. The weather was perfect, the two suns shining, and Alistair leaned back and breathed deep, and took it all in.

For once, Alistair felt relaxed, content, at home in the world. Finally, she had love in her life, had met a man who loved her, and had also met her brother. Soon, she would marry. And Argon was helping her understand who she truly was. For the first time in her life, Alistair was beginning to feel that she was not some sort of freak, not an outcast. She was starting to understand that what was different about her was what made her special. That her powers were a normal, natural part of her. A part of her she did not have to be ashamed to claim. She felt empowered, especially after her trip to the Netherworld, after their battle against the Empire, and seeing just how powerful she was.

Ever since Thor had killed her father, Alistair had felt an immense sense of peace in the world. She felt relieved that everyone, especially Erec, knew her secret, knew that her father was a monster. She’d been so afraid that if he discovered it, he would leave her. And she would not blame him. But Erec had remained loyally at her side. Never once had he blamed her, or looked at her differently; on the contrary, his compassion for her had only deepened, and she could feel that he didn’t see her any differently. After all, he had insisted, we are not our parents. For the first time in her life, she was beginning to realize that.

Alistair had taken a break from all the wedding preparations to ride down here and visit Erec, a half-day’s ride from King’s Court, as he was immersed in the work of the Silver, rebuilding and re-arming fortifications, as he had been for moons. Alistair looked out over the parapets and saw below dozens of members of the Silver, their armor shining in the morning suns, and Erec in the middle of them, as he always was, directing the men as they were hard at work on rebuilding fortifcations. Other knights charged on their horses in their impromptu training grounds, engaged in exercises, sparring, keeping their skills sharp.

Alistair looked out and saw four major roads passing through this small town, saw how strategically situated it was, here the middle of the country, and knew that Erec had an important job to do here, to keep all these villagers secure. Erec had been carefully stationing his men at different points all throughout the countryside, helping to mend roads, to raise gates, to deepen moats, and to quarry the stone they needed to repair the damage that Andronicus had done. It was amazing that anything was left of this fort at all. In many of the other towns throughout the Ring, forts which had stood for centuries were completely wiped out, unsalvageable.

Alistair heard a distant rumble. She looked up at the horizon and saw a lone rider charging for the tower, kicking up dirt on the dusty road. She watched as he rode right up to Erec, knelt before him, and handed him a scroll. She wondered what it could be that would make him ride with such haste?

Erec stood very still for a long time, reading. Finally, he turned and walked toward the fort. He looked lost in thought, his brow furrowed, and whatever it was, Alistair sensed from his body language that it was not good.

Alistair heard a muted shuffling of feet coming up the spiral stone staircase, then Erec appeared on the roof of the fort, holding the scroll, looking grim.

“What is it, my lord?” Alistair asked, rushing over to him.

Erec looked down and shook his head. She could see his eyes well with tears.

“My father,” he said, grimly. “He’s gravely ill.”

Alistair felt overwhelmed with compassion for Erec, and she leaned in and hugged him, and he hugged her back. He had never spoken to her of his father, or of his people, and she did not know much about them. All she knew was that Erec hailed from the Southern Isles.

“What will you do?” she asked.

Erec stared out at the horizon, thinking.

“I must go to him,” he said. “I must see him before he dies.”

Alistair’s eyes widened.

“To the Southern Isles?” she asked.

He nodded, earnest.

“It is a long voyage, my lady,” he said. “Harsh and unforgiving. I will have to cross the Southern Sea, which takes more lives than it lets pass. It will be safer for you to stay here. I shall return to you.”

Alistair felt a rush of determination, and she shook her head.

“I will never be apart from you again,” she said. “I vowed to myself. And I intend to keep it. Whatever the price. I will join you.”

Erec looked back, seeing her determination, touched.

“But Gwendolyn’s wedding,” he answered. “You are her maid of honor.”

Alistair sighed.

“If you must go now,” she replied, “then I must go with you. Gwendolyn will understand.”

Erec embraced her, and she embraced him back. She held him tight, and wondered. What would their voyage be like? What were the Southern Isles like? What was his family like? Would they like her? Accept her? Would he make it to see his father before he died?

And most of all, how would this affect their wedding? Would it delay it?

Would Gwen really understand? Would Thor? Would she ever see her brother again? Would they really return to the Ring?

For some reason, she had a sinking feeling that they would not.

*

Alistair rode through King’s Court, having just said goodbye to Gwendolyn, and her heart was still breaking. It had been painful to break the news, even though Gwen had received it well. She felt terrible telling Gwen, especially at this time, right before her wedding. But the way she saw it, she had no choice. Erec would be her husband, and she could not stand to be separated from him again. Gwen had been understanding, stoic, and had made it easy on Alistair. But Alistair sensed, deep down, that Gwen was hurt, that she would have wanted her there at her wedding. Alistair wished things could be different; but this was the hand life had dealt her.

As Alistair rode out of court, she was determined, before riding back to Erec, to see her brother one last time, to break the news to him, too, that she was leaving. She braced herself. When all this was over, Alistair vowed silently to return, to find a way to come back to the Ring, to be with Gwendolyn and Thor, and all of her people, again. After all, she and Gwendolyn had been through so much in the Netherworld together, and Gwen felt like a true sister to her, like the sister she’d never had. Alistair also felt protective of Gwen. She felt attached to her, especially since hearing the news of her new child.

Alistair could hardly believe that she had a nephew. When she’d held him, she had felt his energy course through her, and had felt a greater connection to the child than any she had ever known. Her brother’s son. It was hard to imagine. As she held him, she knew without a doubt that the two of them would have a close relationship their entire lives.

Alistair rode through the newly rebuilt stone gates leading to the Legion training ground, past all the new recruits lining up on the field, all hoping to catch her brother’s attention for a spot in the coveted Legion. She spotted her brother, and rode across the courtyard and dismounted before him.

Thor must have sensed her coming, because before she even got close to him, he turned and met her gaze, his light gray eyes alight in the morning sun, standing there so noble and proud, all the hopeful warriors of the Legion looking to him. Her brother was clearly a leader, and all these boys, some older than he, looked up to him as if he were a god. She could understand why. Not only was he a skilled warrior, but he also exuded an energy, something mystical, almost like a light shining around him. It was hard to put her finger on exactly what it was about him. It was almost as if she were looking at the stuff of legend, while he was still alive. There was also a fleeting air to him, as if somehow, he, burning so bright, might not live very long, like a shooting star racing across the sky. She flinched at the thought, and tried to suppress it.

But as Alistair walked up to him, she suddenly choked up. She had a flash, saw something she could not suppress. It was a vision: she saw her brother dead. At a young age. She saw death—and glory—all around him.

Alistair stopped before Thor, about to hug him, and her smile morphed to a frown, as she barely stopped herself from crying. They had become close these past moons, and Thor was the only real family she had, and the idea of losing him now, after she had just met him, was too much for her to bear.

“What is it, my sister?” Thor asked, looking at her, puzzled.

Alistair merely shook her head, biting her tongue. Instead, she leaned in and hugged him, and he hugged her back. Over his shoulder, she quickly wiped away tears and forced herself to smile.

She pulled back.

“Nothing, my brother,” she said.

He watched her, skeptical, concerned.

“Yet you seem disturbed,” he said.

“I have come to say goodbye,” she replied.

Thor looked at her, surprise and disappointment in his face.

“Erec departs for the Southern Isles,” she said, “and I must join him. I am sorry. I will not be here to see you wed.”

Thor nodded, understanding.

“At Erec’s side is where you should be,” he said. “He is the greatest warrior of our Ring—and yet, he needs you. You are even greater. Protect him.”

“As are you,” she said back.

Thor flushed with embarrassment.

“I am but a boy from a small farming village,” Thor replied humbly.

Alistair shook her head.

“You are far, far more than that.”

Thor sighed and looked off into the distance, watching his recruits train.

“I will be departing myself, soon,” he said.

Alistair suddenly gained an insight into his mind, as she often did when she was around him.

“You will go to seek out our mother,” she said, more of a statement than a question.

Thor looked at her, surprised.

“How did you know?” he asked.

She shrugged.

“You are an open book around me,” she said. “I don’t know why. It is as if I can see what you see.”

“What else do you see?” Thor asked, excited, narrowing his eyes. “Will I find our mother?”

Alistair had a sudden flash of Thor’s future. She saw that he would indeed find her. But then the vision was obscured by darkness, as if it were being deliberately masked by the fates. She saw Thor in a great battle, one beyond even his powers. She saw darkness all around them, and she quickly closed her eyes and shook her head, wanting to quash the vision. It was too dark, too terrifying.

She didn’t want to scare Thor, and she forced herself to remain composed. She shuddered inside, but did not let him show it.

“You will find her,” she replied.

Thor looked at her, unconvinced.

“And yet…you hesitate,” he said.

Alistair shook her head and looked away.

“Last time we spoke of Mother,” she said, “I was beginning to tell you that I have something of hers. It is fitting that you have it. I do not know if I shall ever see her.”

Alistair reached into her pocket and extracted an object.

“Hold out your wrist,” she said.

Thor did so, and he looked down as Alistair held out a golden wrist bracelet, six inches wide, and clasped it around his wrist. It covered Thor’s wrist, halfway up his forearm, shining, shifting colors in the light.

Thor examined it in wonder. She could tell he was awestruck.

“The Land of the Druids is a fearful place,” she said. “A place of great power. But also of great danger. You will need this more than I.”

“What is it?” he asked, running a finger along its smooth golden surface.

She shrugged.

“It is the only thing that Mother left me. I do not know what it is, or what it does. But I know that you will need it where you’re going.”

Thor leaned in and, clearly grateful, embraced Alistair tight; she embraced him back.

“Be safe,” Thor said.

“Send Mother my love,” she said. “Tell her I love her. And one day, I hope to meet her, too.”