Both Thomas and Kirsten looked at her as though she was going to sprout wings and fly away. Her eyes darted back and forth between them, realizing she’d somehow offended them. A bit defensively, she said, “What? Did I say something wrong?”
Max and Bo finished lashing the shuttle boat to the dock. “So, is it good to be back?” Max asked walking in sync with his brother to Kirsten and Thomas. Bo halted upon noticing the banners and slammed his arm across his brother’s chest, stopping him mid-stride.
Max looked first at Bo’s arm barring him from proceeding and then at his brother, “What gives?”
Freeing Max, Bo balled his fist and pointed to the banner.
“Yeah, look at all of these banners hanging around town. Wait, those weren’t here the last time we were here for the Grandwood Games.” Max brushed his hand through his hair, searching for an explanation. “I bet the people found some kind of protection and they’ve hung the banners to ward off any more attackers.”
Bo, Kirsten and Thomas all looked at him in the same way they’d gawked at Britt, as though he’d just spoken ill of them. Max glanced to Britt who shook her head slightly and shrugged.
“What did I say?” he asked, as Britt had.
“That’s no protection, it’s much worse. That’s Merglan,” Kirsten said through clenched teeth.
Max and Britt’s eyes widened realizing what this meant.
Kirsten furrowed her brow as she stared at the banner that hung from a post midway down the dock. Blinded by rage, she stormed down the wooden walkway. Reaching the banner, Kirsten gripped it midway up the cloth and yanked as hard as she could, pulling at the material. The thick fabric tore but didn’t rip entirely as she’d intended. She tugged on it again, but the material wouldn’t give way. Her actions caught the attention of others on ferryboats that were just landing at the dock.
Understanding his sister’s frustration, Thomas was quick to help her. He ignored the murmurs and pointing from other townspeople returning home and together he and Kirsten pulled the banner down, tossing it into the water defiantly.
“How could our own people do something like this?” Kirsten asked angrily while motioning to the sinking cloth.
“It could be as Max said. Maybe they were tricked into thinking he would provide some form of protection?” Britt suggested as she joined them.
Kirsten groaned with frustration but held back the choice words she wanted to shout, realizing Britt wasn’t the source of her anger.
Townspeople also returning to Grandwood for the first time since their capture at the games began gathering on the docks. They kept their voices low as they pointed first to the banners, then to Kirsten and Thomas. Kirsten could tell this was not the homecoming they’d expected either. Their journey had been a trying time, and not all who’d been taken from Grandwood had returned. All who’d survived the months of captivity were allowed passage home on board the Rolloan ships. Red hadn’t been pleased about transporting extra people who weren’t skilled sailors in the first place. He protested the suggestion, saying there would be too many extra mouths to feed, but when he heard the other leaders supporting the notion, he quickly changed his mind. No doubt, his revised response served as a political ploy to make himself look better. At that time, he’d still been vying for the position as chief. To Britt and the others’ disgust, his dubious change of heart had worked.
“I don’t like this,” Britt said uneasily as more skiffs unloaded returnees. Britt had been the only captain to see her passengers safely home. She made more of an effort to befriend those on her ship than the other Rollo Island captains. She felt obligated to at least see her friends safely to shore. Noting the confused faces of those returning, however, left her eager to escape the situation and return to her ship.
Grandwood returnees waved and called to several of the townsfolk who passed hurriedly by the docks. The passersby hardly batted an eye as they continued with their heads down, carrying on as if nothing could distract them from where they were heading. Kirsten frowned, watching more of her fellow former prisoners pointing to the banners, then shaking their heads in confusion.
Most hadn’t actually seen their captor up close. The night they’d first landed at the fortress was the only time Merglan showed himself to the entire group of prisoners. Even then, most couldn’t get a clear view, as they weren’t able to move a muscle on their own. Maija and Kirsten were chambermaids working on the same floor as Merglan’s rooms, so they saw him often, but the only time Thomas and Bo would have seen him was the night of their arrival. Kirsten remembered when Merglan had stopped next to her to take a closer look at Thomas when Thargon had pointed him out. Thomas would have seen Merglan up close, but she wasn’t sure how Bo knew who he was.
“We need to leave,” Britt said, panic in her voice. “It’s no longer safe here.” Bo and Max followed her, stepping toward the boat.
Kirsten made to follow but stopped. “No. We can’t abandon these people. Not after what we’ve been through.”
The others hesitated, seeing the pain in Kirsten’s eyes.
“Go if you must, but I won’t abandon my fellow townspeople at the sight of a depiction of Merglan’s face. For all we know he’s not even here.”
As she finished speaking, Kirsten heard the steady thud of marching. She turned to see that the Grandwood watchmen had arrived. They marched toward the docks in lined formation. Spreading apart once they’d closed in on the harbor area, the armor-plated watchmen took positions, standing at the end of each wooden platform in pairs.
“What’s this? Are they blocking us from entering?” Thomas asked angrily. “The watchmen are supposed to protect the citizens, not bar them from returning home.”
Max, Bo, and Britt placed their hands on their weapons, anticipating the possibility of a fight. Kirsten bent her knees into an athletic position, ready to pounce at the armored men, even though she was unarmed. Thomas balled his fists, holding them up defensively and keeping a close eye on the watchmen’s movements. Other people who were anticipating a warm homecoming huddled together taking similar defensive stances as the watchmen planted their speared staffs blocking access to the street off the docks.
“Are they going to try to arrest us?” Kirsten asked glancing to Thomas.
“Let them try,” Britt said fiercely, drawing her sword and flexing her hand around its hilt.
The armored men remained motionless, locked in place at the end of the docks. It was as if they were ordered to prohibit anyone from entering the town. A group of men walked down the main street toward the piers. The seven all wore gold-trimmed, black, thickly-padded leather, with long black capes clasped at the throat with golden buckles. The leather was the same kind the elves and the Rollo Island warriors wore to battle. Each one of these men had a sword hanging from his hip. They held their heads high and puffed out their chests with pride. They walked in a militarized fashion, in unison and in formation. In the middle of this organized military group walked a tall gentleman with striking features. Kirsten thought she recognized six of them as Grandwood business owners, but she’d never seen the seventh before.
“Who the heck is that?” Thomas asked, both intrigued and irritated.
“I recognize the others around him, but not the one in the middle,” Kirsten said still huddled close to the others.
The group of Grandwood men spread out in a line to either side of the man in the middle, facing those attempting to gain entry to their hometown. They halted and faced the docks, puffing out their chests and standing tall.
“Quite the display,” Max said mockingly.
Bo laughed, “You always have to break the tension, don’t you brother.”
“I couldn’t help myself,” Max said. “I mean, come on, it was too easy.” He chuckled at his own joke, then returned to his combat-ready position.
The man who seemed to oversee the cocky group put both hands out, spreading them wide to each side almost as though he was going to try to hug some invisible person in front of him. Kirsten and the others could see him much more clearly now that he was standing at the end of the dock. His long black cloak was embroidered with gold trim along its edges. He didn’t carry any visible weapons, but the group on the dock couldn’t see whether anything was concealed under the cloak. The man had ashen skin and a slender frame. His jet-black hair matched his attire. He also sported a hint of facial hair. He stood nearly half a foot taller than the rest of the men around him. His voice sounded attractive in tone when he spoke. It almost soothed them, nearly convincing them to relax to the point of dropping their weapons entirely.
“Welcome home, lost citizens of Mergwood,” he said loud enough so that all of them could hear clearly.
Upon hearing the new name he’d given the town, Thomas shook himself from the seeming spell, “What did he just say? Mergwood?”
“I thought it was Grandwood?” Britt asked.
“It is,” Thomas replied. “This idiot has gone and changed the name of our town.” He gestured toward the tall man.
“I am your new governor and warden of Westland. You may call me Governor Rankstine,” the man said, addressing them with his arms still outstretched.
