nodded, listening, rubbing his hands before the fire, when suddenly, the sun broke free from the clouds, and the dark, wet weather morphed to a clear, shining summer day. A distant horn sounded.
“Your ship!” Srog cried out. “We must go. You must set sail before the weather returns. I will see you off.”
Srog led Reece out a side door in the fort, and Reece was amazed as he squinted in the bright sunlight. It was as if the perfect summer day had returned again.
Reece and Srog walked quickly, side by side, followed by several of Srog’s men, rocks crunching beneath their boots as they navigated the hills and made their way down winding trails toward the distant shore below. They passed gray boulders and rock-lined hills and cliffs peppered with goats that clung to the hillsides and chewed at weeds. As they neared the shore, all around them bells tolled from the water, warning ships of lifting fog.
“I can see firsthand the conditions you are dealing with,” Reece finally said as they walked. “They are not easy. You have held things together here for far longer than others would have, I’m sure. You have done well here. I will be sure to tell the Queen.”
Srog nodded back in appreciation.
“I appreciate your saying that,” he said.
“What is the source of this people’s discontent?” Reece asked. “They are free, after all. We mean them no harm – in fact, we bring them supplies and protection.”
Srog shook his head.
“They will not rest until Tirus is free. They consider it a personal shame on them that their leader is imprisoned.”
“Yet they are lucky he only sits in prison, and has not been executed for his betrayals.”
Srog nodded.
“True. But these people do not understand that.”
“And if we freed him?” Reece asked. “Would that set them at peace?”
Srog shook his head.
“I doubt it. I believe that would only embolden them for some other discontent.”
“Then what is to be done?” Reece asked.
Srog sighed.
“Abandon this place,” he said. “And as quickly as possible. I don’t like what I see. I sense a revolt stirring.”
“Yet we vastly outnumber them in men and ships.”
Srog shook his head.
“That is all but an illusion,” he said. “They are well organized. We are on their ground. They have a million subtle ways of sabotage we cannot anticipate. We are sitting here in a den of snakes.”
“Not Matus, though,” Reece said.
“True,” Srog replied. “But he is the only one.”
There is one other, Reece thought. Stara. But he kept his thoughts close to himself. Hearing all of this made him want to rescue Stara, to take her out of this place as quickly as possible. He vowed that he would. But first he needed to sail back and settle his affairs. Then he could return for her.
As they stepped onto the sand, Reece looked up and saw the ship before him, his men waiting.
He stopped before it, and Srog turned to him and clasped his shoulder warmly.
“I will share all of this with Gwendolyn,” Reece said. “I will tell her your concerns. Yet I know she is determined with these isles. She views them as part of a greater strategy for the Ring. For now, at least, you must keep harmony here. Whatever it takes. What do you need? More ships? More men?”
Srog shook his head.
“All the men and ships in the world will not change these Upper Islanders. The only thing that will is the edge of the sword.”
Reece looked back, horrified.
“Gwendolyn would never slaughter innocents,” Reece said.
“I know that,” Srog replied. “Which is why, I suspect, many of our men will die.”
Chapter Nine
Stara stood on the parapets of her mother’s fort, a square stone fortress as ancient as the island, the place in which Stara had lived ever since her mother had died. Stara walked to the edge, grateful that the sun had finally broken free on this dramatic day, and looked out to the horizon, with unusually nice visibility, and watched Reece’s ship set sail in the distance. She watched his ship parting from the fleet, watched for as long as she possibly could as his boat drifted for the horizon, each lapping wave taking him farther and farther from her.
She could watch Reece’s ship all day, knowing he was on it. She couldn’t stand to see it go. She felt as if a part of her heart, a part of herself, were leaving the island.
Finally, after all these years in this lonely, awful, barren island, Stara felt overwhelmed with joy. Her meeting with Reece had made her feel alive again. It had restored an emptiness within her that she hadn’t even realized had been gnawing away at her all these years. Now that she knew that Reece would call off the wedding, that he would return for her, that the two of them would be wed, finally together forever, Stara felt that everything was going to be okay in the world. All the misery that she had put up with in her life would be worth it.
Of course, she had to admit, there was a small part of her that felt bad for Selese. Stara never wanted to hurt anyone else’s feelings. Yet at the same time, Stara also felt that her life was at stake, her future, her husband – and she also felt that it was only fair. After all, she, Stara, had known Reece her entire life, since they were kids. It was she who had been Reece’s first and only love. This new girl, Selese, barely knew Reece, and only for a short while. She certainly could not know him like Stara did.
Selese, Stara figured, would eventually get over it and find someone else. But Stara, if she lost him, would never get over it. Reece was her life. Her destiny. They were meant to be, they had been their whole lives. Reece was her man first, and if anything, the way she saw it, Selese was taking him away from her, and not the other way around. Stara was only taking back what was rightfully hers.
Regardless, Stara could not have made a different decision if she’d tried. Whatever her rational mind would have told her was right or wrong, she could not listen. Her whole life, everyone around her – and her own rational mind – had also told her it was wrong for cousins to be together. And even then, she could not listen. She absolutely loved and adored Reece. She always had. And nothing anyone would say or do could change that. She had to be with him. There was no other option in life.
As Stara stood there looking out, watching his ship become smaller on the horizon, she heard sudden footsteps, someone else on the fort’s roof, and she turned to see her brother, Matus, walking quickly toward her. She was pleased to see him, as always. Stara and Matus had practically been best friends their entire life. They had been outcasts from the rest of their family, from the rest of the Upper Islanders, Stara and Matus both despising their siblings, and their father. Stara thought of Matus and herself as being more refined, more noble, than the others; she saw her other family members as being treacherous, untrustworthy. It was as if she and Matus had their own little family within the family.
Stara and Matus lived here on separate floors in their mother’s fort, apart from the others, who lived in Tirus’s castle. Now that their father was in prison, their family was divided. Her other two brothers, Karus and Falus, blamed them. She could always trust Matus to have her back, though, and she was always there for him, too.
The two of them talked long and often of leaving the Upper Isles for the mainland, joining the other MacGils. And now, finally, all of that talk was beginning to feel like it might become a reality, especially with all the sabotage the Upper Islanders had been inflicting on Gwendolyn’s fleet. Stara could not stand the thought of living here any longer.
“My brother,” Stara greeted him, in a happy mood.
But Matus’s expression was unusually darkened, and she could see immediately