A Sea of Shields (Book #10 in the Sorcerer's Ring) by Morgan Rice Page A

on the roof of the small fort, running her hand along the ancient stone parapets as she looked out over the countryside of the Ring on this brilliant, beautiful summer day. From up here, surrounded by nothing but rolling hills, she looked out and saw fields of tall lime-green and violet grass, swaying in the wind, shining in the sun, rustling, as if happy to be alive. The weather was perfect, the two suns shining, and Alistair leaned back and breathed deep, and took it all in.
    For once, Alistair felt relaxed, content, at home in the world. Finally, she had love in her life, had met a man who loved her, and had also met her brother. Soon, she would marry. And Argon was helping her understand who she truly was. For the first time in her life, Alistair was beginning to feel that she was not some sort of freak, not an outcast. She was starting to understand that what was different about her was what made her special. That her powers were a normal, natural part of her. A part of her she did not have to be ashamed to claim. She felt empowered, especially after her trip to the Netherworld, after their battle against the Empire, and seeing just how powerful she was.
    Ever since Thor had killed her father, Alistair had felt an immense sense of peace in the world. She felt relieved that everyone, especially Erec, knew her secret, knew that her father was a monster. She’d been so afraid that if he discovered it, he would leave her. And she would not blame him. But Erec had remained loyally at her side. Never once had he blamed her, or looked at her differently; on the contrary, his compassion for her had only deepened, and she could feel that he didn’t see her any differently. After all, he had insisted, we are not our parents. For the first time in her life, she was beginning to realize that.
    Alistair had taken a break from all the wedding preparations to ride down here and visit Erec, a half-day’s ride from King’s Court, as he was immersed in the work of the Silver, rebuilding and re-arming fortifications, as he had been for moons. Alistair looked out over the parapets and saw below dozens of members of the Silver, their armor shining in the morning suns, and Erec in the middle of them, as he always was, directing the men as they were hard at work on rebuilding fortifcations. Other knights charged on their horses in their impromptu training grounds, engaged in exercises, sparring, keeping their skills sharp.
    Alistair looked out and saw four major roads passing through this small town, saw how strategically situated it was, here the middle of the country, and knew that Erec had an important job to do here, to keep all these villagers secure. Erec had been carefully stationing his men at different points all throughout the countryside, helping to mend roads, to raise gates, to deepen moats, and to quarry the stone they needed to repair the damage that Andronicus had done. It was amazing that anything was left of this fort at all. In many of the other towns throughout the Ring, forts which had stood for centuries were completely wiped out, unsalvageable.
    Alistair heard a distant rumble. She looked up at the horizon and saw a lone rider charging for the tower, kicking up dirt on the dusty road. She watched as he rode right up to Erec, knelt before him, and handed him a scroll. She wondered what it could be that would make him ride with such haste?
    Erec stood very still for a long time, reading. Finally, he turned and walked toward the fort. He looked lost in thought, his brow furrowed, and whatever it was, Alistair sensed from his body language that it was not good.
    Alistair heard a muted shuffling of feet coming up the spiral stone staircase, then Erec appeared on the roof of the fort, holding the scroll, looking grim.
    “What is it, my lord?” Alistair asked, rushing over to him.
    Erec looked down and shook his head. She could see his eyes well with tears.
    “My father,” he said, grimly. “He’s gravely