A Sea of Shields

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Matus, annoyed, marched into his father’s former castle, clenching his jaw as he prepared to confront his two brothers. He marched through the corridors of this place, a place that used to be filled with his father’s presence, used to be the gathering place of the Upper Isles, but was now used by Matus’s two brothers, Karus and Falus, as a gathering hall, a place to foment revolution and rebellion since their father’s imprisonment.

Matus just did not see the world the way his brothers did. He never had. He was cut from a different cloth than Karus and Falus, who were nearly clones of his father in every way—even physically, tall and lean, with the same intense, shining black eyes and straight hair. Matus, by contrast, was shorter, with the brown eyes and curly hair he inherited from his deceased mother. Being the youngest, he’d always been somewhat apart from them, and ever since his father was in prison, he’d never been more estranged from them than he was now.

Matus had never agreed with his father’s actions, with his duplicitous betrayal of Gwendolyn. If his father had disagreements, Matus felt, he should have aired them openly—and if he could not come to terms, then he should have taken his cause openly to the field of battle—not in a sneaky way, not in an act of betrayal. It was wrong for his father to violate the code of honor, for any reason. In his family’s eyes, the end justified the means. In Matus’s eyes, it never did. Honor was more sacred.

In Matus’s eyes, his father deserved to be imprisoned, which was a generous act on Gwendolyn’s part.

His brothers, though, could not feel more differently—and as Matus marched into the room, he was met by the hostile glare of Karus, who sat around their long, wooden table, scowling, debating with several other soldiers sitting with them. Scheming, as usual. Matus wondered where Falus was. Surely, he assumed, up to no good.

“Why did you attempt to poison Srog?” Matus demanded.

“Why are you loyal to that fool?” Karus shot back.

Matus grimaced.

“He is the Queen’s regent.”

“Not our Queen,” Karus countered. “Your judgment has become clouded. You do not know where your loyalties lie. Your task is to defend your brothers. Your father.”

“Our father rules no more,” Matus said. “It is past time you faced the times. Change is here. Srog is our ruler now, and he answers to Gwendolyn. Our father sits in prison, and he will never rise again.”

“Oh, he will,” Karus said, determined, standing, pacing, as he walked over and tossed another log on the fire. He threw it with such anger that he just missed a dog, who jumped up and ran out of the way as sparks flew all over the stone floor.

“If you think he’s going to sit there, rotting in jail for the rest of his life, you’re entirely wrong.”

Matus looked back in shock. His brothers never stopped.

“What are you scheming, exactly?” Matus asked.

Karus turned and looked knowingly at the other soldiers in the room, crude men, mercenaries who were loyal to his father. Karus hesitated, as if withholding some secret and debating whether or not to let Matus in on it, too.

“I have plans,” he answered, cryptically.

“What sort of plans?” Matus pressed. “You’d be foolish to risk any sort of rebellion. Gwendolyn’s army, the Silver, the MacGils, are far more powerful than we. Have you not learned your lesson?”

“Are you with us or against us?” Karus demanded, slamming his fist on the table, stepping forward. “I need to know.”

“If you advocate defying the crown, I am against you,” Matus replied proudly.

Karus stepped forward and smacked Matus hard across the face.

Matus, stunned, stared back at him.

“You are a traitor to our father,” Karus said. “You choose the Queen over your family, strangers over us. You’d let your father rot in jail for the rest of his life for trying to advance our cause, for trying to instill us as rulers of the Ring, for trying to give us a better future. If you love the mainland MacGils so much, go live with them. You are no longer part of this family.”

Matus was stunned from the words as much as from the blow.

“You are not loyal to our father, either,” Matus replied, his voice dark, steel. “Don’t pretend you are. You are loyal only to yourself. To treachery. To betrayal. You disgust me. I am for honor, whatever the cost. If that makes me against my father, against you, then I am.”

Karus sneered.

“You are young and naïve. You always have been. You and your chivalry and your honor. Where has it gotten you? You’re no better than any of us.”

Karus pointed a threatening finger.

“Interfere in our affairs again, and Srog won’t be the only one who will have to watch his drink.”

Several of the nobles stood darkly, supporting Karus.

Matus, disgusted by all of them, feeling betrayed, like an alien in his own family, amongst his own people, turned and began to march out of the chamber.

But more soldiers suddenly moved before the door, blocking his way.

“I am not through with you yet, brother,” Karus called out.

Matus, indignant, bunched his fists and slowly turned.

“Open this door,” he snarled.

Karus smiled.

“I will. When I’m ready. But before you go, there is something I wish for you to know.”

Karus paced, his smile broadening, and Matus felt a sinking sense of foreboding in that look. He sensed that, whatever it was, the news would be very, very bad.

Stara ascended the spiral stone staircase, heading to the castle roof, eager to watch for any falcons, to see if any new scrolls arrived from the mainland. She was desperate to know what had happened with Reece, if he had already broken the news to Selese—and when he would return for her.

Stara took the steps three at a time, then suddenly stopped, halfway up, as she heard a muffled shouting coming from one of the castle’s chambers.

She turned from the stairwell and hurried to see what it was about.

Stara passed several soldiers until she reached her brother’s chamber. Two guards stood before the door, barring her way.

“My lady, your brothers are in a heated exchange. I would not advise entering.”

Stara could hear the shouting behind the door, and she wondered what on earth was happening.

She shot the soldier a dark look.

“Open the door for me at once,” she commanded.

The soldier stepped aside and opened the door, and Stara entered a room filled with shouting.

She was surprised to see Matus and Karus arguing, heated, face to face, neither giving an inch. They were so engrossed, neither even turned to acknowledge her.

“It is the stupidest thing you could have done!” Matus yelled, red-faced.

Karus, on the other hand, looked smug, self-satisfied.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. They are Father’s orders. Everything is about to change. The way is cleared for their marriage.”

Matus shook his head.

“It will be considered an act of treachery,” he said. “Our country will now have to brace itself for war.”

Karus scoffed.

“What is going on here?” Stara finally interjected, confused, and having a sinking feeling, upon hearing the word “marriage,” that this all had something to do with her.

They both turned and looked at her, startled at her presence, and both fell silent. They stood there, breathing hard, each flush with anger.

“We have accomplished your goal for you, my dear sister.” Karus smiled, holding out a scroll. “From today’s falcon.”

Stara felt a vague sense of catastrophe as she grabbed the scroll, quickly opened it, and scanned it. She read the words, but the lines blurred, and she felt as if she were spinning.

“Selese is dead?” she asked aloud, reading from it, hardly believing the words. “Taken by her own hand…a royal funeral.”

“Exactly what you hoped for, isn’t it?” Karus asked with a satisfied smile. “Your rival is cleared from your path. Reece is yours now to wed.”

Stara’s hands began to shake, and her entire body went cold as she dropped the scroll with disbelief. She looked up at Karus.

“That’s right,” he said. “Falus paid her a visit on the mainland and delivered the news of your and Reece’s courtship. He did his job quite effectively, apparently. She took her life before Reece could even reach her.”

Stara felt her whole world shaking. She could not believe what she was hearing. She loved Reece. But she would never want her rival dead. Especially due to her.

Worse, as she thought of the implications of it all, she realized that this would only harm her relationship with Reece. A royal funeral…Reece would be overwhelmed with guilt…the entire kingdom would blame him. Blame her…. It would drive them apart.

Stara felt like crying inside. This would all force Reece never to marry her. He would have no choice now.

“You FOOL!” she shrieked, hurling the scroll back into Karus’s face. “You have ruined everything!”

Karus stared back, uncomprehending.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Do you really think Reece will want to marry me after his beloved’s life has been taken by her own hand? Due to our family’s treachery? You have just made me, have made our love, the enemy of the Ring. You have destroyed our chance at marriage!”

“What are you talking about?” Karus said. “You should be happy. This was what you wanted. This was what Father wanted. He said it would assure your marriage.”

“Father is a fool!” she yelled. “A shortsighted fool! He knows nothing of affairs of the heart. He has ruined everything. He’s an idiot. And that is why he is where he is today.”

“Do not speak against our father,” Karus warned.

“She is right,” Matus said. “You have created an enemy not only in Reece, but in the entire mainland of the Ring. All hopes we had for any union will now be crushed.”

Stara felt her entire world collapsing around her as she thought of the implications. She burst into tears, realizing that whatever she’d had with Reece was over. It could never survive this. They—her brothers, her father—with all of their ridiculous scheming—had destroyed her only real love in life.

Even worse, Stara felt the guilt of this poor woman’s blood on her hands.

Stara’s eyes darkened as she set her sights on Karus.

“I HATE you!” she yelled.

She sprinted forward and raised her hands and clawed at his face, scratching him. Caught off guard, he raised his hands to his face, but too late, as she sent him flying backwards across the table and collapsing onto a chair with a crash.

Stara then turned and sprinted from the room, opening the door and slamming it behind her, running through the castle corridors, never stopping, weeping, knowing that all she cared for in the world had been taken away from her for good.