Hope
By twilight, they’d reached the end of the first island. A thin peninsula of hardened lava jutted across the ocean’s expanse, almost reaching the second island, and the largest in the chain. Bron stood at the edge, contemplating the depth of the ocean between the two lands. Could they swim across?
His first in command approached him, standing beside him at the water’s edge, while the army rested under an overhanging cliff, dipping into their rations. “May I have a word, sir?”
Bron took off his helmet and ran a hand over the stubble on his head. “You are always welcome to speak freely, Mr. Fairhaven.”
Recktus nodded and followed Bron’s gaze off to the sea separating them from the next island. “The men are weary from the day’s trek.”
“I know.” Bron narrowed his eyes, searching the crested waves for any signs of sea creatures. Did leviathans swim this close to shore?
“Sir?”
Bron blinked. The heat had baked his mind. He was just as weary as they were, if not more so from leading, then doubling back to show them the easiest path. “The peninsula offers no cover. If we cross by the moon’s faint light, we can use the shadow as a cloak. If we wait until morning, we’ll be fully exposed to any flying patrols.”
“I see the conundrum, but it will be difficult to convince the men to walk past sunset. The heat grates on all our nerves.” Recktus wiped a hand over his face. He was younger than Bron by five years, yet he had two little ones at home. Bron weighed his service heavily. He would not take any chances with his men, even if it meant pushing them past their limits.
Bron knelt by the edge and picked up a dried clump of seaweed. “The tide has been moving out all day. If we wait too long, it will return, covering the peninsula in twenty feet of sea.” Bron threw the seaweed into the water, anxious to move. “Summon the men. We’re going across.”
His first in command nodded with weariness and doubt in his eyes. “What if there are vermin in the water? Or if the distance is too far?”
“There’s only one way to test it.” Bron clapped him on the back and started toward the peninsula before Recktus could stop him. “I’ll go first.”
He had to gain a head start before Danika guessed his intentions and created a scandalous scene. The last thing Ebonvale needed was a princess who slighted her predestined union with a stronger faction for her lowly bodyguard, the son of a pitchfork-wielding farmer from Oaten’s Dell’s poorest region, no less.
Sea spray slickened the hardened lava of the peninsula. Some waves surged tall enough to cover the entire surface up to Bron’s knees as he crossed. Warm as bath water, the tide seeped into the cracks in his armor, weighing him down. He hoped the salt wouldn’t corrode Garish’s metal alloy, rendering it useless against the wyverns’ fire.
At least Danika had done as he asked. She’d stayed with the minstrels and, if anything came to pass at the front of the army, the trailing minstrels in the back would have plenty of time to retreat.
His army followed his progress across the peninsula. Halfway to the other side, Bron froze, studying the horizon. One tidal wave could wash them all away. He scanned the waves rolling in from the sea. Each crest swelled with the promise of power as the tide rolled slowly in. They’d have to hurry to beat the odds.
Bron reached the last ledge leading down into the dark waters. He searched for any sign of a sandy bottom but could discern nothing in the faint moonlight.
“Can you swim across?” Fairhaven joined him at the edge.
Bron judged the distance. It was a little longer than the lake in Oaten’s Dell where he used to race Hule to exhaustion. Then again, he was taller now and stronger. He wouldn’t let the distance intimidate him as a grown man. “I believe so, but only without my armor.”
“We have no way of lugging the armor to the other side?”
“Maybe one suit, but an entire army?” Bron shook his head. He could not lose hope. If they returned to the first island now, this whole channel would be covered by morning. There had to be another way.
He unsheathed his sword and stuck the blade in the water, feeling the drop off of the ledge. Behind him, the army started to gather as they caught up. Soon the lines would back up. The tail end of the troops, along with Danika, would be stuck on the middle of the peninsula.
Bron lowered himself to his stomach and dipped his entire arm in the water, along with his sword. The tip grazed the ledge, feeling the dark abyss stretched before them.
He dared not look back. The troops must have thought he’d lost his mind.
Bron knew better than to accept their defeat at face value. He’d learned from the temple scrolls that lava flowed in swirling patterns, and volcanos spewed large chunks of rock like the one they’d seen hit the water earlier that day. The sea floor was not flat.
He pulled himself slowly across the curve of the ledge, reaching out with his sword in all directions until the water rose up his arm to his shoulder and then to his chin. Half his body underwater, the tip of his sword scraped something beyond the ledge.
Thank Helena and Horred. For Bron, it was enough of a sign that the gods were on his side.
He probed, feeling the circumference of the underwater rock. The surface was big enough to stand on.
Bron’s muscles ached as he stood. Just a little longer, then they could rest. By now, the army had flooded the ledge to watch his progress, and he had to order them back. “At ease.”
Fairhaven turned to the men. “Give the Chief of Arms more room.” He nodded to Bron, then whispered in confidence, “What do you mean to do, sir?”
“Carve my own path.” Bron took a running leap and landed with a splash on the next rock. Cheers erupted behind him. He turned to Fairhaven with a grin stretching across his face. “Lead them in my footsteps. Don’t let anyone stray from the path.”
“Yes, sir.” Fairhaven smiled and saluted him with a wave. “Lead on.”
Bron felt the edge of the rock a few feet away. He probed with his sword until he found another standing stone, then another. Some footholds were several feet underwater and Bron had to wade up to his knees, and others were narrow enough to barely fit both his feet. Bron made sure to stay ahead enough to backtrack if he found a dead end. It took over an hour, but after discovering enough standing stones, he jumped in up to his chest and waded to shore.
As the army followed, he heard a few splashes as men fell into the sea.
“Quickly, get them out!” Bron called, wishing he could sprint across the water.
Fairhaven had stayed behind and helped fish them out with rope. He waved to Bron. “All accounted for.”
“Good.” As the army came ashore, Bron realized the same rock where he’d jumped off into water up to his chest now had water up to the chins of men the same height. The incoming tide deepened the channel. He looked across to the peninsula. Half the minstrel army still awaited their turn.
“Faster.” Bron called as he helped a man to shore. “We must cross faster.”
As Danika stood on the last rock, Bron realized the water would flow over her head. Valorian stood beside her, offering his hand to lower her into the sea.
“Princess, wait!” Bron waded in toward the ledge. “The water is too deep.”
Danika’s head shot up and she froze. Bron positioned himself in the water below her. The waves now rose to the tip of his nose, and he struggled to keep his head afloat high enough to breath. “Jump to me.”
Valorian’s lips pursed as though he did not favor the idea.
Bron ignored him and beckoned Danika. This was no time for jealousy. “The tide is coming in. We must hurry!”
The princess nodded and lowered herself into Bron’s arms, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck. Blood rushed to his face and his heart quickened. The solider who didn’t balk at war trembled. Why did holding her feel so right? “Hold on.”
Danika’s green eyes flashed in the moonlight. She whispered, “I will.”
He carried her to shore. Soldiers jumped into the sea around them, racing the tide, but Bron focused on Danika. “How are you faring, Princess?”
She looked away toward the island looming above them. “Fair enough.”
Her answer didn’t satisfy him. “You cast your gaze beyond me to the island. What do you fear?”
“I fear my own resolve wavering. Hope is difficult to hold in such a barren, unforgiving land. Valorian has seen many futures. In one of them a dried, barren earth plagues the land if we don’t succeed.”
Bron’s chest tightened. “Valorian thinks too much with his head and not with his heart.” Water dripped from their armor as he reached the shore and placed her gently on her feet. In Danika’s presence, all of his worries had disappeared. He’d found the strength to believe. “We have found a path across the channel and our army is healthy and our weapons sharp. We have armor that will withstand our enemies’ fire. There is still much reason to hope.”
“Such a brave man you are.” Danika’s hand trailed along his armor as she released her hold. “You have always taught me to hope in the darkest of times.”
“And I will continue to.” Bron wanted to reach to her and pull her near. He did nothing, remembering they stood at the end of their known world, battling a foe who threatened all they held dear. Plus, she was not his.
“I see you have found your way to shore safely, my lady.” Valorian’s voice echoed behind him, reminding Bron to return to his post.
He nodded to Valorian. “We make camp here, by the water’s edge in the mountain’s shadow.”
“Go back to your men, Chief.” Valorian gestured to the shore, where soldiers sat and emptied sea water from their boots. “They need you.”
Valorian dismissed him with a nod. “I’ll tend to the princess’ needs from here on out.”
Bron’s fists tightened as he swallowed his retort. The minstrel prince was right. His men did need him, and by staying with Danika when she was in no harm, he’d deserted his duty as Chief of Arms. “Yes, Your Highness.”
It took all of his determination to walk away.