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

beefy hand on Reece’s shoulder.
    “You resemble your father too much as you grow older,” he said warmly.
    Reece smiled.
    “I hope that’s a good thing.”
    “It is indeed,” Srog replied. “There was no finer man. I would have walked through fire for him.”
    Srog turned and led Reece through the hall, all of his men falling in behind them as they wound their way through the fort.
    “You are a most welcome face to see here in this miserable place,” Srog said. “I am grateful to your sister for sending you.”
    “It seems I have chosen a bad day to visit,” Reece said as they passed an open-air window, rain lashing a few feet away.
    Srog smirked.
    “Every day is a bad day here,” he answered. “Yet it can also change on a dime. They say the Upper Islands experience all four seasons in a single day—and I have come to see that it is true.”
    Reece looked outside at a small, empty castle courtyard, populated with a handful of ancient stone buildings, gray, ancient, which looked like they blended into the rain. Few people were outside, and those that were lowered their heads against the wind and hurried from one place to the next. This island seemed to be a lonely and desolate place.
    “Where are all the people?” Reece asked.
    Srog sighed.
    “The Upper Islanders stay indoors. They keep to themselves. They are spread out. This place is not like Silesia , or King’s Court. Here, they live all over the island. They do not congregate in cities. They are an odd, reclusive people. Stubborn and hardened—like the weather.”
    Srog led Reece down a corridor and they turned a corner and entered the Great Hall.
    In the room sat a dozen of Srog’s men, soldiers with their boots and armor on, glumly sitting around a table near a fire. Dogs slept around the fire, and the men ate hunks of meat and threw the scraps to the dogs. They looked up at Reece and grunted.
    Srog led Reece to the fire. Reece rubbed his hands before the flames, grateful for its warmth.
    “I know you haven’t much time before your ship departs,” Srog said. “But I at least wanted to send you off with some warmth and dry clothes.”
    An attendant approached and handed Reece a set of dry clothes and mail, exactly his size. Reece looked at Srog with surprise and gratitude as he peeled off his wet clothes and replaced them with these.
    Srog smiled. “We treat our own well here,” he said. “I figured you’d need it, given this place.”
    “Thank you,” Reece said, already feeling much warmer. “I’ve never needed it more.” He had been dreading sailing back in wet clothes, and this was exactly what he’d needed.
    Srog began talking politics, a long monologue, and Reece nodded politely, pretending to listen. But deep down, Reece was distracted. He was still overwhelmed with thoughts of Stara, and he could not shake her from his mind. He could not stop thinking of their encounter, and every time he thought of her, his heart fluttered with excitement.
    He also could not stop thinking, with dread, of the task that lay ahead of him on the mainland, of telling Selese—and everyone else—that the wedding was off. He did not want to hurt her. But he did not see what choice he had.
    “Reece?” Srog repeated.
    Reece blinked and looked over at him.
    “Did you hear me?” Srog asked.
    “I’m sorry,” Reece said. “What was that?”
    “I said, I take it your sister has received my dispatches?” Srog asked.
    Reece nodded, trying to focus.
    “Indeed,” Reece replied. “Which is why she sent me here. She asked me to check in with you, to hear firsthand what was happening.”
    Srog sighed, staring into the flames.
    “I’ve been here six moons now,” he said, “and I can tell you, the Upper Islanders are not like us. They are MacGils in name only. They lack the qualities of your father. They are not just stubborn—they are not to be trusted. They sabotage the Queen’s ships daily; in fact, they sabotage everything we do here. They