Free A Rule of Queens (Book #13 in the Sorcerer's Ring) by Morgan Rice Page A

more. But I cannot be with you. Not here.
Not in this place. You must understand.”
    Kendrick’s expression darkened, and she felt
awful for it.
    “Yet this is where we are,” he said. “There is
no other place for us. Shall we not be together then?”
    She spoke, her heart breaking at her own words:
“You will stay in the caves of your people,” she said. “I shall stay here, in
the village. With my people. It is my role. I love you, but we cannot be
together. Not in this place.”
    Kendrick looked away, hurt, and Sandara wanted
to explain further when suddenly a voice interrupted.
    “Sandara!?” called out the voice.
    Sandara turned, shocked to recognize the
familiar voice, the voice of her only brother. Her heart leapt as she saw him, pushing
out from the crowd, walking toward her.
    Darius.
    He looked much bigger and stronger and older
than when she had left him, filled with a confidence she had not seen before. She
left him as a boy, and now, while young, he appeared to be a man. With his long,
unruly hair hanging down, tied behind his back, still never cut, his face as
proud as ever, he looked exactly like their father. She could see the warrior
in his eyes.
    Sandara was overwhelmed with joy to see him, to
see that he was alive, had not died or been broken like all the other slaves, his
proud spirit still leading the way. She rushed forward and embraced him, as he
embraced her back. It felt so good to see him again.
    “I feared you were dead,” he said.
    She shook her head.
    “Just across the sea,” she said. “I left you a
boy—and you have become a man.”
    He smiled back proudly. In this small
oppressive village, in this awful place in the world, Darius had been her one
source of solace, and she his. They had both suffered together, especially
since the disappearance of their father.
    Kendrick approached and Sandara saw him and stood
there, frozen, unsure how to introduce him as she saw Darius looking at him.
She knew she had to make some sort of introduction.
    Kendrick beat her to it. He stepped forward,
reaching out a hand.
    “I am Kendrick,” he said.
    “And I am Darius,” he replied, shaking hands.
    “Kendrick, this is my brother,” Sandara said,
nervous, stumbling. “Darius, this is…well…this is…”
    Flustered, Sandara paused, unsure what to say.
Darius held out a hand.
    “You don’t have to explain to me, my sister,”
he said. “I’m not like the others. I understand.”
    Sandara could see in Darius’s eyes that he did understand, and that he did not judge her. Sandara loved him for it.
    They all turned and walked together, falling in
with the others as they toured the village.
    “You have chosen quite a tumultuous time to
return,” Darius said, tension in his voice. “Much has happened here. Much is happening.”
    “What do you mean?” she asked, nervous.
     “We have much catching up to do, my sister.
Kendrick, you shall join us too. Come, the fires have begun.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN
     
     
    Godfrey sat in the village before the raging
bonfire in the starry night, nearby his sister Gwendolyn, his brother Kendrick,
Steffen, Brandt, Atme, Aberthol, and nearly all the people he remembered from
the Ring. Seated beside him were Akorth and Fulton, and as he saw them it
reminded him that more than ever he desperately needed a drink.
    Godfrey stared into the flames, wondering how
he had ended up here, trying to process everything that had happened, everything
feeling like a blur in a long series of blurs. First there was the death of his
father; then the death of his brother, Gareth; then the invasion of the
McClouds; then invasion of the Ring; then the Upper Isles; then the long
journey across the sea…. It felt like one tragedy, one journey, after the next.
His life had devolved to nothing but war and chaos and exile. It felt good to
finally stop moving. And he sensed that it was all just beginning.
    “What I wouldn’t do for a pint right now,” Akorth
said.
    “Surely they