A Sea of Shields

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Kendrick stood before the bridge spanning the Western Crossing of the Ring, overseeing his men, supervising scores of Silver as they were hard at work on securing it, rebuilding it as it once used to be. Joined by several of his illustrious friends, including Atme and Brandt, Kendrick helped the men as they rolled a boulder, guided a new stone into place, repaired the railing. This bridge had undergone extensive damage since the Shield had been down, and too many creatures from the Wilds had used the opportunity to cross into the Ring during the Empire’s invasion.

Kendrick stood for a moment and looked out, and on his side of the canyon, he saw the countless corpses of those beasts scattered about the grass. As he watched, several of his men picked them up and hoisted them over the canyon’s edge. Over these last moons, scattered reports had filtered in of a random beast that had terrorized a village. Now, after all these moons of Kendrick and the Silver hunting them down, killing any beasts that had slipped in while the Shield was down, the reports were stopping. Kendrick was determined to make the Ring as secure as it had ever been. One day at a time, they were repairing all the damage that Andronicus had done.

Kendrick was thrilled to be back with his men, back with the Silver, strengthening the Ring—it was what, he felt, he had been born to do. He was thrilled that Gwendolyn had tasked him with leading the Silver, together with Erec, and making the Ring stronger, more secure. Erec had headed southeast to rebuild the forts at strategic points throughout the Ring, and had taken half of the Silver with him, while Kendrick had taken the rest of the men to fortify the canyon.

Kendrick turned and looked out over the canyon, and saw, on the other side, several beasts lurking in the Wilds, watching their work. With the Shield up, these creatures wouldn’t dare try to cross. Yet they still stood there, the Wilds teeming with them, waiting for their chance, whenever it should come, to cross again. Kendrick was determined not to ever let that happen.

“Raise that stone higher!” Kendrick called out to several knights, and they raised a particularly large boulder and secured it in place.

Kendrick surveyed the landscape, and still saw tremendous work that lay ahead for them. There remained countless villages here that needed securing, walls that needed to be repaired, bridges that needed to be rebuilt, crossings that needed guards. He would need to distribute the knights of the Silver strategically at certain posts, make their presence known to prevent lawlessness, and to remind the people of the power of King’s Court. The people needed to know they were being protected, watched over. And Kendrick had to prepare, in case for some reason there was ever another invasion of the Ring.

“My lord,” came a voice.

Kendrick turned to see his new squire running toward him, out of breath as he knelt. Kendrick was surprised to see him; he hadn’t seen him in moons, and he thought back to the last time he’d dispatched him. Kendrick had sent him, far and wide, to crisscross the Ring to see if he could discover any news about Kendrick’s birth mother, whom he had never met. It had been gnawing at Kendrick, and he had felt an ever-burning desire to know her, to know whom he hailed from. He hated the idea that he was a bastard in the world. And knowing that King MacGil was his father was not enough for him.

Seeing this squire return got Kendrick’s heart racing with anticipation. Had he discovered some news?

Kendrick had always hoped and dreamed that his mother was a princess in her own right, maybe in some other land, far away. Maybe that would explain why she had never come back for him. Perhaps she was separated by a vast ocean. Mostly, he just hoped that she was alive. He hoped that he could lay eyes on her, just once, if for no other reason than to ask her why she had abandoned him. Why she had never claimed him. Did she even know he existed?

Kendrick’s heart pounded as his squire stood, still catching his breath. From the look on his face, Kendrick sensed he bore news.

“My lord,” his squire said, gasping, “I think I have found her.”

Kendrick’s throat went dry as his squire reached out and placed half of a medallion in his palm. He looked down at the bronze medallion, held it up to the light, and slowly removed the necklace he had worn for as long as he could remember—half a medallion, bronze. His father had always told him that the other half belonged to his mother.

He held them up and was shocked to see it was a perfect match. There was a hole in the center, and the holes aligned, room enough for a thread to pass through, and for it to become one necklace.

It was authentic. His hands trembled to hold it; he had dreamed of this day his entire life.

“Where did you find this?” Kendrick asked, barely able to speak.

“In a small village in the northern part of the Ring, my lord. In a shop. I bought it from them. They told me a woman sold it to them.”

“A woman?” Kendrick asked. “Sold it?”

Was it his mother? he wondered. How could she sell it, the one and only connection she had to him? Had it happened many years ago?

His squire nodded.

“Just a few moons ago,” he said. “They told me where she came from. And her name: Alisa.”

Kendrick stared back, dumfounded.

“Your mother lives, my lord.”

Kendrick felt his hand go limp, the medallion burning inside it, as he gazed out at the horizon.

His mother. Alive.

After all this time, he wanted to put it out of his mind; for a moment, he even regretted sending his squire on this mission.

Yet the more he considered it, the more he knew he could do nothing else. A burning curiosity rose up within him. His mother. Alive. What did she look like? Did she resemble him? Would she be happy to see him?

Kendrick looked out at the horizon, and knew he had no choice.

He had to find her.