Guardian's Rise (The Sons of Masguard, Book Two)

Chapter Twelve

“Alright, everyone! Gather ‘round, gather ‘round!”

 Work across the ship came to a halt as McKinley heaved a barrel to the center of the deck and leapt atop it.

 “As it so happens, the dear Kota brothers found this liquid-filled barrel below. Maybe it’s water, maybe it’s the finest ale in the kingdom. Whatever it is, doubtless, it’s well aged. Tempted though I was to keep the lovely thing to myself, my crew and I know what it is like to lose a ship. The Albatross was more than just a fine vessel, she was your home. Your stability and your steadfast protector. When all else around you went pear shaped with a vengeance, she alone gave you a refuge from the madness. You relied on her in ways you probably didn’t even recognize.” He grew quiet and Marshall had the distinct impression that he was no longer talking about any ship, Albatross or otherwise. “Though you owe it to her not to fall apart over her loss, we know as well as anyone that you can’t help but feel her absence. So it is with the utmost hope that this barrel contains something other than tar that I humbly suggest we crack open this cask.” Leaping down, he hoisted the only cup they’d managed to scrounge from the rubble and tossed it to Marshall. “Because I think she deserves a toast. Don’t you?”

Marshall rolled the cup over in his hands, smiled, and nodded.

He moved to stand alongside his brother and a cheer rose up as McKinley stove in the top of the barrel, dipped the cup into the drink and gave it a sniff.

“Well, it isn’t poison.” He winked. “At least, I don’t think it is.”

Marshall didn’t bother to test the mug for himself before raising it high and saying in a strong and somber voice, “To the Albatross.”

All aboard lifted their weapons with a responding cry. “Hear, hear!”

As Marshall passed the cup around, he looked to the Marauder.

“Something you said just now rubbed me the wrong way, however,” he said.

“Oh?” McKinley arched an eyebrow.

“You referred to ‘your crew,’ as though they were separate, as though a distinction existed between the sailors that I see on this… rather interesting deck. But as I look at you, I can’t help but think that even pirates and soldiers can share in a common endeavor, when a line is drawn where both can see. I am reminded that nobility has nothing to do with blood, rank, or affiliation. It is about decency of action. It is about knowing the full weight of your choices. Everyone here has proven their worth on that front.” He glanced to McKinley. “Some of you, more than once. You, Ensign Wexler.” He pointed to the young fennec. “Despite your age, you stood your ground like a seasoned warrior when gryphons and slavers left their blood on our deck. And Master Tobb, you brought the Albatross back from the dead at the behest of a queen’s man, when you could just as easily have left us to make our repairs at our own, slow pace. Fugitive or no, you were all unjustly imprisoned, side by side. Lieutenant Ryder stood with Father Faiz to fight back the villains who held you and, against impossible numbers, they succeeded. While in pursuit of my duty, I myself found the most unexpected of allies in my greatest rival – a brigand who would hold the line against beasts and brutes to defend me when I could not defend myself.

“We are more than we were when we began. So look at us, as we stand. Two crews come together, having done the unprecedented, having found our equals in our opposites. Friends in foes.

“I am a simple military man. But I am proud to be standing here among you. Pirates and soldiers, bound for war on a ship that scarcely sails, sharing in the responsibility of citizenship.”

His eyes darkened.

“We don’t know the full truth of what lies ahead,” he told them. “We do know that the Baron can be bested. We know that the mists can be fought. But in the end, it isn’t about facing any of it without fear or holding the certainty of success. It is about knowing what must be done and choosing to carry on. Not out of allegiance to an institution, but from a selfless devotion to what we know to be right. As of this moment, our separate histories couldn’t matter less. The Baron’s world is one that would be devoid of compassion for all. And we will not live there. We will storm the Bannered Shore. We will bathe in the embers of our fallen ships, if we must. But we will not allow our lives, or the lives of our neighbors, our families, our fellow citizens, to be crushed by tyrannical ambition.”