A Land of Fire

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Alistair stood on the stone plaza in the breaking light of dawn, high up on the cliffs, joined by Erec’s mother and all her advisors, and looked out over the sweeping vistas of the Southern Isles. Down below, she could see the battle raging, as it had been all night since her encounter with Bowyer. Alistair looked out at this beautiful isle, draped by a morning mist, wafting with the smell of lemon blossoms, now erupted in war—and she felt guilty that she had been the one to spark this civil war.

Yet at the same time she felt vindicated, relieved that these people finally realized she was innocent—and that Bowyer was the assassin. She knew that Bowyer needed to be stopped before he stole the kingship—after all, the kingship belonged to Erec—and Alistair was determined to see that Erec recovered, and claimed what was rightfully his. Not because she wanted to be Queen—she did not care for title or rank—but because she wanted her husband-to-be to receive what he deserved.

Erec’s mother, beside her, watched the battles with concern, and Alistair reached over and laid a hand on her wrist. Alistair felt overwhelmed with gratitude towards her, for standing by her side the entire time.

“I owe you a great deal of thanks,” Alistair said. “If it were not for you, I would be sitting in that dungeon—or dead—right now.”

Erec’s mother smiled back, although her smile was weak, as she looked back at the battle below, grave with concern.

“And I owe you as much,” she said. “You saved my son’s life.”

She studied the cliffs below and her brow furrowed.

“And yet, if this battle does not go well, I fear it may all be for nothing,” she added.

Alistair looked at her in surprise.

“Are you concerned?” she asked. “I thought Bowyer rules but one of the twelve provinces. What danger could there be when there are eleven united against one?”

Alistair’s mother watched the battle, expressionless.

“My former husband was always wary of the Alzacs,” she said. “They do not only produce the best warriors on the island, but they are also crafty, and not to be trusted. They are also power hungry. I will not rest easy until I see every one of them involved in the rebellion slaughtered.”

Alistair watched the battle, and saw thousands of Southern Islanders pushing back Bowyer’s tribe, the battle raging up and down steep mountain slopes, spread out all over the Southern Isles, men fighting men on steep angles, the distant sound of metal clashing against metal and horses neighing punctuation the morning air. They were all brilliant warriors, their copper armor and weaponry shining in the sun, and they blanketed the mountains like goats, fighting each other to the death.

She watched and flinched as one soldier off his horse and off the side of the cliff, shrieking as he went hurtling to his death.

As far as Alistair could tell, the Southern Islanders had the advantage over Bowyer’s tribe, which appeared to be on the run, and she could not see what there was to fear. Perhaps the former Queen was being overly cautious. Soon, she felt, this would all be over, Erec would be back in his seat as King, and they could start over again.

Alistair heard a shuffling of feet, and she turned and saw Dauphine walking toward her from the far side of the plaza. Dauphine had, in the past, always approached her with a look of disapproval or indifference—yet this time, Alistair noticed she wore a different expression. It seemed to be one of remorse—and of a new respect.

Dauphine came up to her.

“I must apologize,” she said earnestly. “You stood falsely accused. I was misinformed, and for that I am sorry.”

Alistair nodded back.

“I never held any ill feelings toward you,” Alistair said, “and I do not harbor them now. I am happy to have you as my sister-in-law, assuming you are happy to have me.”

Dauphine smiled widely, for the first time. She stepped up, hugged Alistair, and Alistair, surprised, hugged her back.

Dauphine finally pulled back and studied her with intensity.

“I hate my enemies with a great passion,” Dauphine explained, “and I love my friends with equal fervor. You shall become a friend and a sister to me. A true sister. Anyone as devoted to Erec as you has won my heart. You shall find a loyal friend in me, I promise. And my word is greater than my bond.”

Alistair felt that she meant it, and it felt so good to have a sister, to finally have the tension between them resolved. She could see that Dauphine was someone who felt deeply, and was not always able to control her passions.

“Will they give up?” Alistair asked, watching Bowyer’s men.

Erec’s mother shrugged.

“The Alzacs have always been separatists. They’ve always coveted the crown, and they are sore losers. My father and his father before him tried to eradicate them from the islands—now is the time. Without them, we shall be one nation, unified under Erec.”

There came the sudden sound of a chorus of horns, and they all turned in alarm, looking up at the cliffs behind them. The mountaintops suddenly filled with soldiers on horseback, appearing all over the ridge, covering the horizon from all directions. Alistair saw them bearing all different color banners, and she looked up in confusion, not understanding what was happening.

“I don’t understand,” Alistair said. “The battle lies before us. Why do they approach from behind?”

Erec’s mother’s face fell with dread, and she looked as if she were watching the arrival of death itself.

“They are not for us,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Those banners—they have turned half the island against us. They are following Bowyer in his bid to be King. It’s a revolt!”

“It is finished,” Dauphine said, her voice filled with despondency. “We have been ambushed. Deceived.”

“They head for the house of the sick,” his mother observed, as the forces began to steer down the slope. “They’re going to kill Erec—so that Bowyer can be King.”

“We must stop them!” Alistair said.

Erec’s mother grabbed Alistair’s wrist.

“If you head forward, to Erec, you head to a certain death. If you wish to survive, head back to our forces, regroup, and live to fight another day.”

Alistair shook her head.

“You don’t understand,” she replied. “Without Erec, I am not alive anyway.”

Alistair tore her hand from her grip, and she turned and ran headlong into the oncoming army, toward certain death, ready to do whatever she had to to reach Erec first. If he was going to die, she would die at his side.