A Reign of Steel

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Reece sat in the hold of the Queen’s ship, the sound of the rain slamming against the wood filling the air, his back against the wall, nursing his leg wound and happy to be alive. Beside him sat Stara, Srog, and Matus, drinking hot ale and nursing their wounds, each of them tended by one of the Queen’s healers. Reece grimaced as a healer sewed up the gash on his thigh left after she’d pulled out the arrow. It stung, but he was relieved the arrow was out, and relieved that he had taken it while protecting Stara.

Beside him Stara was taking her stitches bravely, barely even wincing, her healer finishing up with the last stitch, then applying various salves. Reece felt a cold sting as his healer draped a cold cloth on his leg filled with ointments; he felt the cool gels slowly infiltrate his wound. After a few seconds, it brought relief, and he relaxed and began to feel better.

Reece took another long drink from his ale, the hot liquid feeling good on this cold and rainy night, and going right to his head. He could not remember he had last eaten. As he sat there, Reece felt incredibly relaxed after the harrowing events of the night, and grateful that they had reached the ship against all odds. Reece realized how lucky they were to have escaped with relatively minor wounds. Even Srog, the most wounded, was now receiving the healing he needed, and for the first time, Reece saw the color returning to his cheeks, as several healers worked on his injuries and assured him he would be okay.

Sitting opposite them all was Wolfson, Commander of the Queen’s fleet, a grizzled warrior with a beard streaked with gray, a lazy eye, and the broad and hardened face of a warrior. He wore the uniform of a Queen’s sailor, adorned with all the medals and honors befitting his rank. He was a fine commander, Reece knew, one who had served his father through many wars at sea. Reece was relieved that they had reached his ship.

As soon as they had all boarded, Reece had warned Wolfson immediately of the fiery arrows being prepared that would set his fleet aflame as soon as the rain stopped. Wolfson had jumped into action, raising the anchors for his entire fleet and sailing them further out to sea, out of range of any arrows from shore.

Now here they all sat, anchored nearly a mile offshore, in rougher ocean waters, getting slammed by the rain, the ship rocking in the waves. Again and again, they had gone over the details of what had happened, and what next steps they must take.

“You saved us all this night,” Wolfson said. “If it were not for you all, we would have been caught by surprise, and our ships would all be aflame as soon as the rain stopped.”

“And yet we are still not safe here,” Matus said. “We are safe from arrows, yes, but do not think the Upper Islanders will rest on their heels. At first light, my brother Karus will summon his fleet from the far side of the island, and he will attack what remains of your fleet at open sea. They have dozens more ships than you, and you’ll be exposed here in the open water.”

“Nor can you set foot on shore, with the army waiting for you,” Srog added.

Wolfson nodded, as if he had already thought it through.

“Then we shall go down fighting,” he replied.

“Why wait for morning?” Stara asked. “Why wait for them to ambush us and attack us in the open sea? Why not set sail right now for the Ring?”

Wolfson shook his head.

“The last order Queen MacGil gave me was to keep our fleet here in this bay, and to hold our positions. I have no order otherwise. I will not abandon our post. Not unless the Queen orders me to retreat.”

“That’s craziness,” Stara said.

Srog sighed.

“We are soldiers,” he said. “Queen MacGil ordered us to hold his island. We do not defy the chain of command.”

“And yet she does not know the circumstances that have occurred here,” Stara pointed out. “After all, she did not expect her brother to kill King Tirus and spark a revolution.”

Reece saw everyone look at him, and he reddened. He wondered if Stara was deliberately taking a dig at him, and if she hated him for killing her father.

“He was a traitor,” Reece said, “he deserved death.”

“Even so, your actions sparked a war,” she countered. “I think your Queen would understand our retreat.”

Wolfson shook his head.

“Without a direct order, we do not retreat.”

All eyes turned to Srog, the Queen’s official voice on the island. After a long while he sighed, resigned. He shook his head.

“I have no orders otherwise,” he said. “We cannot abandon our posts. We stay put and fight.”

The men all nodded and grunted in satisfaction, all in agreement. They dug in, surveying their weapons, preparing mentally for the inevitable fight that would come in the morning.

Srog and Matus joined Wolfson as he crossed the room, on a mission for more ale, each of them limping but gaining their feet, and Reece found himself alone with Stara, sitting side by side, nursing a hot cup of ale. Reece set down his mug and removed a stone from his belt and began sharpening his sword. He did not know what to say to Stara, or whether she even wanted to talk to him, so they sat there in the silence, the sound of the sword sharpening cutting gently through the room.

Reece assumed that Stara was mad at him, probably over Selese, or probably over his killing her father, and he expected her to get up and cross the room with the others; he was surprised that she continued to sit there, a few feet away. Reece did not know what to feel around her; a part of him felt shame when he looked at her, thinking of Selese, and also of how he had broken his vow to return for her. He felt guilty even looking at her, given his incredible love and grief for Selese, which hung over him like a blanket. He felt a storm of emotions, and he did not know what to think. A part of him did not want to see her, given what had happened with Selese.

Yet another part of him, he had to admit, wanted her to stay close. A part of him wanted her to talk to him, wanted things to go back to the way they used to be. But he felt guilty even thinking that.

Clearly, Reece had messed everything up, in every direction. Stara probably hated him, and he could not blame her.

“Thank you for saving me back there,” Stara finally spoke up, her voice so soft Reece was unsure he’d even heard it.

Reece turned and looked at her, shocked, wondering if she had really spoken the words, or if he had just imagined them. Stara was looking down to the floor, not at him, her knees bent up to her chest, looking forlorn.

“I didn’t save you,” he said.

She turned and looked at him, her eyes aglow, filled with intensity; he was struck, as always, by how hypnotizing they were.

“You did,” she said. “You took the arrows for me.”

Reece shrugged.

“I owe you as much as you do me,” he replied. “If not more. You’ve saved me several times now.”

Reece went back to sharpening his sword, and she looked back at the floor, and they fell back into a silence, albeit this time a more comfortable one. Reece was surprised that she had spoken to him, and that she did not seem to harbor any ill feelings for him.

“I thought you hated me,” Reece said, after a while.

She turned and looked at him.

“Hated you?” she asked, her voice rising in surprise.

Reece turned to look at her.

“After all, I killed your father.”

Stara scoffed.

“That is all the more reason to like you,” she said. “It was long overdue. I’m surprised I did not kill him myself.”

Reece looked at her, shocked. It was not the answer he had been expecting.

“Then you must…hate me for other reasons,” Reece said.

Stara gazed at him, puzzled.

“And what might those reasons be?”

Reece sighed.

“I vowed to come back to you,” he said, getting it off his chest. “I vowed to call off my wedding to Selese. And I broke my vow. I let you down. And for that, I am ashamed.”

Stara sighed.

“I was disappointed, of course. I thought our love was true. I was disappointed to find out that it was not. That your words were empty.”

“But my words were not empty,” Reece insisted.

She looked at him, baffled.

“Then why did you change your mind and decide to marry Selese after all?”

Reece sighed, confused, not knowing what to say. His mind raced with conflicting emotions.

“It’s not that I did not love you,” he said. “It’s that I realized that I also loved Selese. Perhaps in a different way. Perhaps even not as strongly as I loved you. But I loved her all the same. And I had given her my word. And as I sailed back, as distance came between us, I realized it was a word I had to keep.”

She frowned.

“And what of your word to me?” she asked. “And what of your love for me? Did that mean nothing, then?”

Reece shook his head, not knowing what to say.

“It meant a great deal,” he finally said. “And I know I broke your heart. I’m sorry.”

Stara shrugged.

“I guess it’s all too late for that now,” she said. “You made your choice. Your wife-to-be, the one you had decided to dedicate the rest of your life to, is dead. And I’m sure you blame me for it.”

Reece considered her words, wondering if they were true. Did he really blame her? A part of him did. But a deeper part of him knew that he himself was the only one to blame.

“I blame myself more than you,” he replied, “much more. It was my choice. Not yours.”

Reece sighed.

“And as you said, none of that matters now,” he added. “When Selese died, a part of me died with her. I vowed to never love again. And it is a vow that, this time, I intend to keep.”

Stara looked at him, and he watched her face transform, watched her become crushed, once again. He could see something gloss over her eyes, like a severe disappointment. A resignation. He realized in that moment that she still loved him, was still hoping for them to be together. And he had, unwittingly, hurt her once again.

Stara suddenly nodded, then got up wordlessly and walked away.

Reece looked down, sharpening his sword, hating himself even more and trying to push it all out of his mind; but Stara’s footsteps, crossing the deck, echoed in his skull as she went farther and farther away, each step like a nail in the coffin of his heart.