He glared down on Darius condescendingly.
“And are you proud of yourself?” he asked disparagingly. “Look at what you’ve done. Look at how many of our people died here today. They all died senseless deaths, all good men, all dead because of you. All because of your pride, your hubris, your love for this girl.”
Darius reddened, his anger flaring up. Zirk had always had it in for him, from the first day he’d met him. For some reason, he had always seemed to feel threatened by Darius.
“They are not dead because of me,” Darius replied. “They had a chance to live because of me. To truly live. They died at the Empire’s hands, not my own.”
Zirk shook his head.
“Wrong,” he retorted. “If you had surrendered, as we had told you to do, we all would be missing a thumb today. Instead, some of us are missing our lives. Their blood is on your head.”
“You know nothing!” Loti cried out, defending him. “You were all just too scared to do what Darius did for you!”
“Do you think it’s going to end here?” Zirk continued. “The Empire has millions of men behind this. You killed a few. So what? When they find out, they will return with fivefold these men. And next time, each and every one of us will be slaughtered—and tortured first. You have signed all of our death sentences.”
“You are wrong!” Raj called out. “He has given you a chance at life. A chance at honor. A victory that you did not deserve.”
Zirk turned to Raj, scowling.
“These were the actions of a foolish and reckless young boy,” he replied. “A group of boys who should have listened to their elders. I never should have trained any of you!”
“Wrong,” Loc yelled out, stepping forward beside Loti. “These were the bold actions of a
man
. A man that led boys to be men. A man that you pretend to be, but are not. Age does not make the man. Valor does.”
Zirk reddened, scowling at him, and tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword.
“So says the cripple,” Zirk replied, stepping threateningly toward him.
Bokbu emerged from the crowd and held out a palm, stopping Zirk.
“Don’t you see what the Empire is doing to us?” Bokbu said. “They create division amongst us. But we are one people. United under one cause. They are the enemy, not us. Now more than ever we see that we must unite.”
Zirk rested his hands on his hips and glared at Darius.
“You are just a foolish boy with fancy words,” he said. “You can never defeat the Empire. Never. And we are not united. I disapprove of your actions today—we all do,” he said, gesturing to half the elders and a large group of villagers. “Uniting with you is uniting with death. And we intend to survive.”
“And how do you intend to do that?” Desmond asked back angrily, standing by Darius’s side.
Zirk reddened and remained silent, and it was clear to Darius that he had no plan, just like all the others, that he was speaking out of fear, frustration, and helplessness.
Bokbu finally stepped forward, between them, breaking the tension. All eyes turned to him.
“You are both right and you are both wrong,” he said. “What matters now is the future. Darius, what is your plan?”
Darius felt all eyes turn to him in the thick silence. He thought, and slowly a plan formed in his mind. He knew there was but one route to take. Too much had happened for anything else.
“We will take this war to the Empire’s doorstep,” he called out, invigorated. “Before they can regroup, we will make them pay. We will rally the other slave villages, we will form an army, and we will make them learn what it means to suffer. We might die, but we will all die as free men, fighting for our cause.”
There came a great cheer out from behind Darius, from the majority of the villagers, and he could see most of them rallying behind him. A small group of them, rallying behind Zirk, looked back, unsure.
Zirk, clearly infuriated and outnumbered, reddened, released his grip on his sword hilt, and turned and stormed off, disappearing into the crowd. A small group of villagers stormed off with him.
Bokbu stepped forward and solemnly faced Darius, his face lined with worry, with age, with lines that had seen too much. He stared back at Darius, his eyes filled with wisdom. And with fear.
“Our people turn to you to lead them now,” he said softly. “That is a very sacred thing. Do not lose their trust. You are young to lead an army. But the task has fallen upon you. You have started this war. Now, you must finish it.”
*
Gwendolyn stepped forward as the villagers began to dissipate, Kendrick and Sandara by her side, Steffen, Brandt, Atme, Aberthol, Stara, and dozens of her men behind her. She looked upon Darius with respect, and she could see the gratitude in his eyes for her decision to come to his aid on the battlefield today. After their victory, she felt vindicated; she knew she had made the right decision, however hard it had been. She had lost dozens of her men here today, and she mourned their loss. Yet she also knew that, had she not turned around, Darius and all the others standing here would certainly be dead.
Seeing Darius standing there, so bravely facing off against the Empire, made her think of Thorgrin, and her heart broke as she thought of him. She felt determined to reward Darius’s bravery, whatever the cost.
“We stand here ready to support your cause,” Gwendolyn said. She commanded the attention of Darius, Bokbu, and all the others, as all the remaining villagers turned to her. “You took us in when we needed it—and we stand here ready to support you when you need it. We lend our arms to yours, our cause to yours. After all, it is one cause. We wish to return to our homeland in freedom—you wish to liberate your homeland in freedom. We each share the same oppressor.”
Darius looked back at her, clearly touched, and Bokbu stepped forward in the midst of the group and stood there, facing her in the thick silence, all of their people watching.
“We see here today what a great decision we made to take you in,” he said proudly. “You have rewarded us far beyond our dreams, and we have been greatly rewarded. Your reputation, you of the Ring, as honorable and true warriors, has held true. And we are forever in your debt.”
He took a deep breath.
“We do need your help,” he continued. “But more men on the battlefield is not what we need. More of your men will not be enough—not with the war that is coming. If you truly wish to help our cause, what we really need is for you to find us reinforcements. If we are to stand a chance, we will need tens of thousands of men to come to our aid.”
Gwen stared back, wide-eyed.
“And where are we to find these tens of thousands of knights?”
Bokbu looked back grimly.
“If there exists anywhere a city of free men within the Empire, a city willing to come to our aid—and that is a big
if
—then it would lie within the second Ring.”
Gwen stared back, puzzled.
“What are you asking of us?” she asked.
Bokbu stared back, solemn.
“If you truly wish to help us,” he said, “I ask you to embark on an impossible mission. I ask you to do something even harder and more dangerous than joining us on the battlefield. I ask you to embark on your original plan, on the quest on which you were to embark today. I ask you to cross the Great Waste; to seek out the Second Ring; and if you make it there alive, if it even exists, to convince their armies to rally to our cause. That is the only chance we’d stand of winning this war.”
He stared back, somber, the silence so thick that all Gwen could hear was the wind rustling through the desert.
“No one has ever crossed the Great Waste,” he continued. “No one has ever confirmed the Second Ring even exists. It is an impossible task. A march to suicide. I hate to ask you. Yet it is what we need most.”
Gwendolyn examined Bokbu, noted the seriousness on his face, and she pondered his words long and hard.
“We will do whatever is needed,” she said, “whatever best serves your cause. If allies lie on the other side of the Great Waste, then so be it. We shall march at once. And we shall return with armies at our disposal.”
Bokbu, tears in his eyes, stepped forward and embraced Gwendolyn.
“You are a true queen,” he said. “Your people are fortunate to have you.”
Gwen turned to her people, and she saw them all staring back solemnly, fearlessly. She knew they would follow her anywhere.
“Prepare to march,” she said. “We shall cross the Great Waste. We shall find the Second Ring. Or we shall die trying.”
*
Sandara stood there, feeling torn apart as she watched Kendrick and his people preparing to embark on their journey to the Great Waste. On her other side were Darius and her people, the people she had been raised with, the only people she’d ever known, preparing to turn away, to rally their villages to fight the Empire. She felt split down the middle, and did not know which way to turn. She couldn’t bear to see Kendrick disappear forever; and yet she couldn’t bear to abandon her people, either.
Kendrick, finishing preparing his armor and sheathing his sword, looked up and met her eyes. He seemed to know what she was thinking—he always did. She could also see hurt in his eyes, a wariness of her; she did not blame him—all this time in the Empire she had kept her distance from him, had lived in the village while he lived in the caves. She had been intent on honoring her elders, on not intermarrying with another race.
And yet, she realized, she had not honored love. What was more important? To honor one’s family’s laws or to honor one’s heart? She had anguished over it every day.
Kendrick made his way over to her.
“I expect you will remain behind with your people?” he asked, a wariness in his voice.
She looked at him, torn, anguished, and did not know what to say. She did not know the answer herself. She felt frozen in space, in time, felt her feet rooted to the desert floor.
Suddenly, Darius came up beside her.
“My sister,” he said.
She turned and nodded to him, grateful for the distraction, as he draped an arm around her shoulder and looked at Kendrick.
“Kendrick,” he said.
Kendrick nodded back with respect.
“You know the love that I hold for you,” Darius continued. “Selfishly, I want you to stay.”
He took a deep breath.
“And yet, I implore you to go with Kendrick.”
Sandara looked at him, shocked.
“But why?” she asked.
“I see the love you hold for him, and he for you. A love like this does not come twice. You must follow your heart, regardless of what our people think, regardless of our laws. That is what matters most.”
Sandara looked at her younger brother, touched; she was impressed at his wisdom.
“You really have grown since I’ve left you,” she said.
“Don’t you dare abandon your people, and don’t you dare go with him,” came a stern voice.
Sandara turned to see Zirk, overhearing and stepping forward, joined by several of the elders.
“Your place is here with us. If you go with this man, you shall not be welcome back here.”
“And what business is it of yours?” Darius asked angrily, defending her.
“Careful, Darius,” Zirk said. “You may lead this army for now, but you don’t lead us. Don’t pretend to speak for our people.”
“I speak for my sister,” Darius said, “and I will speak for anyone I wish.”
Sandara noticed Darius clench his fist on the hilt of his sword as he stared down Zirk, and she quickly reached out and placed a reassuring hand on his wrist.
“The decision is mine to make,” she said to Zirk. “And I have already made it,” she said, feeling a rush of indignation and suddenly deciding. She would not let these people make a decision for her. She had been allowing the elders to dictate her life as long as she knew, and now, the time had come.
“Kendrick is my beloved,” she said, turning to Kendrick, who looked back at her with surprise. As she said the words, she knew them to be true, and felt such a rush of love for him, felt a wave of guilt for not embracing him sooner before the others. “His people are my people. He is mine and I am his. And nothing, no one, not you, not anyone, can tear us apart.”
She turned to Darius.
“Goodbye, my brother,” she said. “I will join Kendrick.”
Darius grinned wide, while Zirk scowled back.
“Never look upon our faces again,” he spat, then turned and walked away, the elders joining him.
Sandara returned to Kendrick and did what she had wanted to do ever since the two of them had arrived here. She kissed him openly, without fear, in front of everyone, finally able to express her love for him. To her great joy, he kissed her back, taking her in his arms.
“Be safe, my brother,” Sandara said.
“And you, my sister. We shall meet again.”
“In this world or the next,” she said.
With that, Sandara turned, took Kendrick’s arm, and together, they joined his people, heading out toward the Great Waste, to a sure death, but she was ready to go anywhere in the world, as long she was by Kendrick’s side.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Godfrey, Akorth, Fulton, Merek, and Ario, dressed in the Finians’ cloaks, walked down the shining streets of Volusia, all on guard, bunched together, and very tense. Godfrey’s buzz had long ago worn off, and he navigated the unknown streets, the gold sacks at his waist, cursing himself for volunteering for this mission and racking his brain for what to do next. He would give anything for a drink right now.
What a terrible, awful idea he had had to come here. Why on earth had he had such a stupid moment of chivalry? What was chivalry anyway? he wondered. A moment of passion, of selflessness, of craziness. It just made his throat run dry, his heart pound, his hands shake. He hated the feeling, hated every second of it. He wished he’d kept his big mouth shut. Chivalry wasn’t for him.
Or was it?
He was no longer sure of anything. All he knew right now was that he wanted to survive, to live, to drink, to be anywhere but here. What he wouldn’t give for a beer right now. He would trade the most heroic act in the world for a pint of ale.