A Joust of Knights

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

Erec stood at the stern of the ship, looking out as the early morning sun broke on the horizon, thrilled to be moving again. Finally back on the river after the long night of festivities, he led his fleet as they continued upriver, toward Volusia. Alistair stood beside him, and Erec reached out and clasped her hand. She looked up at him and smiled, and he felt elated as he thought of their baby girl. It was the greatest honor he could imagine, and it made him feel a new sense of purpose in life.

Erec checked over his shoulder and on the horizon, disappearing, he saw all the villagers, still lined up at the shore, waving their gratitude and goodbye to them. His heart broke as he watched them disappear, recalling how gracious and kind these people had been to him and his men, and how grateful they had been for his liberating them. They waved him on with love even though they knew he was heading to Volusia instead of forking upriver in the other direction to save their neighboring village and help liberate them once and for all. Their unconditional gratitude made him feel even worse.

Erec checked the horizon, and downriver, in the distance, he could begin to see the faint outline of the Empire fleet, thousands of ships, still a good day’s ride behind him but closing in fast as they pursued him upriver. Apparently they had broken through the blockade, and now that their fear of traveling by river at night had passed, they had set off at first light of dawn. Erec knew he could not elude them forever: an epic battle loomed on the horizon.

Erec checked his sails, pleased to see them at full ballast, his ship moving quickly as they took the tides upriver. He looked ahead, and as he did, he saw looming quickly, a huge fork in the river. To the right, he knew, the river wound its way to Volusia; to the left, as the villagers had told him, it twisted its way to their sister village, to the Empire fort, to the place they had begged him to go. Erec knew if he forked right and skipped the fort, the villagers back there would surely be dead; and yet if he forked left, it would risk his men’s lives, give the Empire a chance to catch up, and delay his entering Volusia, if at all. He would be imperiling his men for a battle not their own, and on a river filled with monsters. Indeed, even from here, as Erec looked left, he saw the waters in that direction swirling with snakes, even in the daylight.

“What will you decide, my brother?” came a voice.

Erec turned to see Strom standing beside him, hands on hips, looking out at the fork, a concerned expression on his face.

“I know what you are thinking, my brother,” Strom continued. “Even though we were separated from childhood, I still know you better than you know yourself. You’re thinking you want to go save these villagers. Whatever the cost. Whatever the odds. I know you are, because that is who you are.”

Erec looked back at him, realizing he was right.

“And you, my brother?” he asked. “Could you do any differently?”

After a long, somber silence, Strom shook his head.

“You and I,” he replied, “are the same. Driven by honor. Whatever the cost. It is not only what we do—it is how we live.”

Erec studied the waters, the fork looming, and knew he was right.

“Though I am the better fighter, of course,” Strom added with a smile.

“It would not be a wise decision, my lord.”

Erec turned to see one of his trusted commanders, coming up on his other side. He knew he was right.

“Wisdom is important,” Erec replied. “But sometimes it must defer to honor. Life is sacred—but honor is more sacred than life.”

“Many men will die,” the commander added.

Erec nodded.

“All of us will die,” Erec replied. “At one time or another. What you still fail to understand is that I do not fear a mission into danger when honor is at stake. Rather I embrace it, with joy, from the bottom of my heart. The challenge, the insurmountable odds of that river, that is what we live for.”

Erec looked in front of him, studying the river in the morning silence, the only sound that of the water lapping against the hull, the tides becoming rougher as they neared the fork. Erec glanced back and saw the Empire fleet, much closer already. And he knew what he had to do.

“Full sail ahead!” he yelled, stepping forward, turning the wheel, and directing the ship left, toward the village, away from Volusia.

Erec looked over and saw Alistair’s approving face by his side, saw Strom smiling back, his hand already on the hilt of his sword, and he looked back out at the looming fork. As their boat turned away, toward waters unknown, he knew, he just knew, that this was where he was meant to be.