The Order of Shaddai rs-2 Page 10
Mordred laughed at her bewilderment. “Do you really think I am so blind, girl? My eyes are in every place. I see all that happens in my kingdom and beyond. Your husband and Shaddai’s Deliverer are on a mission to bring the Word to the Isle of Macedon, supposing the island liberated from my hand. But I can assure you, I’m still very much in control there.”
Mordred rode up beside the mount where she was confined. He took notice of her unborn child for the first time. “How precious…and heartbreaking.” He smiled. “A child who will never see its father.”
Sarah cried out. “No!”
But this only baited Mordred’s desire to torment her all the more. “Take her to the palace and keep her secure. I want no harm to come to her or the child. Is that understood?”
“Yes, my Lord!”
They turned their mounts and started eastward for Emmanuel. Mordred watched them as they retreated from the carnage of the massacred village.
“Is this really necessary? The boy and the priest will be ours in Macedon. Why bother with this girl. We should just kill her and be done with it,” Mordred complained.
The demon, Jericho, stood next to Mordred’s horse, only visible to the warlord at the moment. “Mordred, your lust for blood does you credit on the battlefield, but these matters require more subtlety. The girl gives us an advantage over the enemy. Never give up your advantage. The trap at Macedon may be set, and the prey walking straight into it, but you should realize by now, when dealing with Shaddai you never underestimate your enemy.”
ISLE OF MACEDON
It took the Trinity nearly three weeks to make the run to Macedon. The voyage had been relatively uneventful after the attack of the sea dragon. Ethan had saved Gideon’s life in the process, and Gideon had saved his by getting him back to the Trinity in his exhausted condition. The bitter feelings felt when they had departed from the Temple of Shaddai were forgotten between them as they labored with Bonifast’s new crew and enjoyed their time at sea.
It was easy for Ethan to understand how a man like Bonifast could fall in love with the sea and never feel at home anywhere else. There was freedom out here. The wild sort that was difficult to experience on land. In some way, it was like taming a monster. The sea quickly destroyed those unaccustomed to her ways and the watery graves of many a sailing ship bore grim testimony to it.
The Isle of Macedon was fairly large in size-sixty miles in diameter. It had long been a heathen nation. Years ago, priests of Shaddai had evangelized the island, but it had since come under the dominion of Mordred and his Wraith Riders.
Ahead of the Trinity lay a massive port city. “That’s our destination, lads,” Levi said. “Calvera.”
“Isn’t there some place less congested where we could make port?” Gideon asked.
“Calvera is the only port for the whole island,” Levi said. “But I don’t think we should have a great deal of trouble remaining anonymous in such a large place. After all, I’ve removed the Trinity’s name plates and there’s so much traffic here. I have a good feeling.”
“Now, I feel much better,” Gideon said sarcastically.
“No better than I do, I’m sure, for having two deadly priests onboard to protect me.” They both grinned at one another and Levi went back to work guiding the ship into port.
The Calvera Harbor was a very busy place and seemed to stretch in both directions as far as one could see on this side of the island. Ships, too many to number accurately, of all sizes, entered or departed full of the spices and fruits the island nation had always been famous for.
“What’s the name of the king here in Macedon?” Ethan asked.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been to the island, lad. Last I heard, the king had been imprisoned along with his family. Mordred’s army has occupied the island for more than ten years. If something’s happened to change that, I’ve not heard it.”
“We’ll have to be very discreet. Even though a royal emissary was sent from Macedon, we can’t assume it was really from their king,” Gideon said.
“Then where are we going to take the scroll chest?” Ethan asked.
“To be honest, I’m really not sure,” Gideon said. “That’s why you and I will be going ashore in disguise to start with. Once we identify who’s actually in power here, we can decide if there is anyone on the island who can take charge of the chest to disseminate its teachings.”
“And if we can’t?”
“Then we go home and take the scrolls with us.”
The crew of the Trinity worked with the dockhands to moor the ship once they had found a place of entry. Levi went ashore first to arrange payment of docking fees and find out anything he could about who was in charge of the port and the island. Ethan and Gideon waited before actually setting off on the island themselves. When Bonifast returned an hour later and met with the priests in his cabin, he wore a curious smile on his face.
“Well, what did you find out, Levi?” Gideon asked.
“Good news, lads. A king has been reinstated on the island. It seems the son of the former king, who is dead now, began a revolt nearly a year ago. He managed to drive out the army of Mordred stationed here. I couldn’t learn anymore than that without acting suspicious.”
Ethan eyed Gideon curiously. “What do you think?”
“I’m not sure. Have you spotted any demon activity in the port?”
“When we were on deck earlier, I didn’t see any at all. It’s eerie how quiet it is-from a spiritual standpoint anyway,” Ethan said.
Gideon rubbed his chin. “Just the same, I think we should conduct our own reconnaissance further inland and see if the story holds true everywhere.”
“Well, I told the dock master that we were here to purchase spices, so I’ll get the crew working on that to throw them off our scent, just in case,” Levi said.
Ethan and Gideon cloaked themselves in brown hooded robes and girded their swords underneath. There would be nothing so suspicious about carrying weapons out in the open, but any measure of inconspicuous they could maintain would be worth it in the long run.
When Gideon and Ethan disembarked from the Trinity, they made their way through the crowded docks and onto shore with little difficulty. But when they started walking down the main thoroughfare into Calvera, a wall of soldiers immediately appeared ahead of them. The crowds dispersed. Another compliment of soldiers surrounded them from the rear, cutting them off from the ship.
The two priests of Shaddai stopped dead in their tracks as pedestrians cleared the way around them. “Hold, Ethan,” Gideon warned as the boy groped under his cloak for the hilt of his sword. “Notice the uniforms?”
“Gray and blue, not red and black.”
“These don’t appear to be Mordred’s soldiers. They’re wearing the colors of the former king, Gavin of Macedon.”
A royal coach parted the wall of soldiers, rolling up to Gideon and Ethan as they stood waiting in the deserted street. It was trimmed in silver and precious stones Ethan was not familiar with. The gray horses wore blue-feathered plumes standing tall on the crown of their bridles. The carriage came around in a semicircle so the door faced the priests of Shaddai.
Ethan wondered why they hadn’t been attacked. Still, he remained at the ready just in case. He hadn’t spotted any demonic activity yet and it made him nervous. In almost every town or city, where they had traveled, there had been some measure of spiritual activity, even if it had nothing to do with hunting the Deliverer. It’s like a forest without the sound of animals, Ethan thought.
The driver wore tight breeches which stopped short just below the knee. White hose continued down his leg terminating with polished, black shoes and silver buckles. He wore a powdered, white wig with a blue ribbon tied in the pony-bob and a decorative blue and gray vest with silver buttons. The man lighted down from the carriage, only slightly regarding the rather ordinary young men standing before him. He opened the carriage door and bowed as he held it open for the gentleman seated within.
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The man inside the carriage peered out into the street, first, then stepped forward daintily as though he was concerned about how much road dust might get on his clothes. He was very tall and thin with spectacles sitting upon the bridge of his long nose. He wore regal attire in the same royal color scheme. He also wore a powdered white wig and Ethan supposed it must be the fashion-at least for the royal house.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” he said. “My name is Mr. Hollingsworth. I am the royal advisor to His Majesty, King Nichols of Macedon. I’ve been sent by the king to escort you back to the royal palace with the Word of Shaddai we sent for.”
“How did you know who we were?” Gideon asked suspiciously.
Mr. Hollingsworth gave a pompous snicker to Gideon’s question. “My dear young man, it was a simple matter for our dock master to identify your ship once he spoke with your captain. People just don’t inquire about the things he wanted to know. Of course, we’ve also been expecting you. Our royal emissary only arrived back in Calvera two days ago, so we hoped you would not be far behind.”
Gideon and Ethan still looked suspicious of the man and his soldiers. “Now then, gentlemen, if you don’t mind, the king is waiting for you.” Mr. Hollingsworth motioned to the open door of the carriage, expecting them to enter.
“I think, Mr. Hollingsworth, that my apprentice and I would like to follow after your carriage, if you don’t mind,” Gideon said politely. “You see, it’s been a long voyage and we were just looking forward to stretching our legs a bit on the streets of your fair city.”
Mr. Hollingsworth arched the corner of his mouth in such a way as to make it clear he felt walking among the pedestrians was beneath him. “I assure you gentlemen, I am no threat to you. But if that is what you wish, then so be it.”
Mr. Hollingsworth turned and stepped back inside his blue, velvet lined carriage. The driver closed the door, then climbed back up to his seat and took the reins in hand, snapping them once to get the horses moving again. The carriage pulled around and started back down the main street the way it had come by. Gideon and Ethan fell in line, walking behind it. The soldiers broke ranks and took up the rear.
People stood upon sidewalks on either side of the street, watching the procession pass on its way toward the royal palace. There were no cheers, only murmuring as they watched the priests of Shaddai in their drab clothing following the royal carriage.
Ethan heard one voice among the silence held by the other pedestrians. “Alms for the poor,” a man called. “Alms for a blind man who believes in the Almighty.”
Ethan pulled a silver coin from his money pouch and walked over to the man as the carriage passed. His eyes were open, but held an odd colorless tone in the irises. He did not look at Ethan directly, but seemed to sense his presence, turning his head as the young man approached. The blind man wore a ragged brown cloak with the hood back and held a battered tin cup out toward the street. He appeared to be in his late twenties and Ethan supposed he might have been born in this condition.
Ethan dropped the silver coin into the cup. “Thank you kindly, good sir,” the beggar said then, he reached out a calloused hand to Ethan. He took it politely intending to shake it, but the blind man seized him with both hands, quickly groping up his arm, pushing back the sleeve. Alarmed, Ethan tried to pull away from the beggar, but the man held him fast in an iron grip. His finger traced out the birthmark on Ethan’s arm-the very same identifying him as Shaddai’s Deliverer.
“Leave off ‘em,” shouted a soldier, drawing near to accost the blind beggar.
The man’s face turned slightly, regarding the approach of the soldier. He pulled Ethan near by his arm and whispered, “Beware, Deliverer of Shaddai.”
The soldier shooed the beggar away, slapping him with a studded leather gauntlet. Ethan stood there astonished but unsure what to make of the beggar. He backed away, rejoining Gideon in the procession. The beggar disappeared among the crowd.
“What was that all about?” Gideon asked.
Ethan turned back to the crowded sidewalk again, searching. “I’m not really sure.”
A ROYAL WELCOME
Captain Levi Bonifast finished his prayer for Gideon and Ethan. He stood up in his cabin and grabbed his tricorn hat from the stand next to his bed. He turned and looked once again at the silver chest containing the scrolls with Shaddai’s Word imprinted upon them.
Levi had been privileged to study a set of scrolls while in Wayland in the service of the king. Stephen had been responsible for his conversion to the faith, and the king had allowed him to be tutored in the royal palace itself. It saddened him to think that Stephen may have actually lost his faith in the Shaddai’s prophecy concerning the Deliverer.
Levi stepped closer to the chest and ran a hand along its surface. All the power of Heaven and Earth is contained within these parchments, he thought. The chest had been loaded into the hold of the ship back in Hopple. But when Levi realized it, he had immediately commanded the chest to be made secure in his own cabin. “The Word of the Lord will have nothing but the best accommodations aboard my ship.”
The sound of his own voice made him aware of the sudden silence. The men had been set to the task of cleaning the ship, taking on food and water, and their bogus cargo-things that were all noisy by necessity. Levi stood very still. He heard nothing, no activity beyond the door to his cabin. He went to the door and reached for the knob. Before he turned it, he instinctively placed one hand on a pistol inside a brace across his chest, placing his thumb on the hammer.
He opened the door and let his hand fall away from the pistol. Everywhere across the deck, firing pins on long rifles clicked back into their firing positions. Soldiers in black and crimson armor stood across the deck of the Trinity. They guarded his crew and were armed to the teeth.
A large man stood forward as his men parted before him. He was clearly in charge. Only Wraith Riders held positions of leadership in Mordred’s army.
The man wore a short graying beard, and a jagged scar ran just above his left eye down across his left cheek very near to his jaw. The leather armor moaned and popped as he moved, barely containing his bulk.
“Can I help you, gov’ner?” Bonifast said in an overly innocent tone. He smiled wide and toothy for the man who stood a good six inches taller. General Hevas Rommil, returned the smile, if only slightly. “Tie him up in his cabin and secure the crew in the hold below. I want this ship under continuous guard.”
Bonifast started to protest the action.
Hevas Rommil turned slightly to his own men, then turning back to Levi, he punched him dead in the face with an arm the size of a grown man’s leg. Levi reeled backward, unconscious before he even landed on the floor of his cabin.
When the procession, following Mr. Hollingsworth and the royal carriage, finally arrived two miles later at King Nichol’s castle, trumpets at the main gate announced their arrival. Gideon and Ethan scanned the castle walls as they proceeded through the portcullis, trying to anticipate any point of potential attack. They might be set upon by archers from the walls, or riflemen from the rear. If Mr. Hollingsworth suddenly lobbed a grenade from the window of his carriage, they wanted to be prepared even for that.
But nothing happened-no surprise attack. Only a royal welcome as they entered the courtyard of the castle. The priests observed that it was not a very large castle, at least not when compared to the palace at Emmanuel. Its gray stone certainly did not compare with the grandeur of the pristine white, granite walls in their capital city.
Soldiers in deep blue and gray dress uniforms lined the yard on either side of a rose-colored carpet, which began in the courtyard and extended into the great vestibule beyond. The royal carriage pulled along side the carpet so that the door opened onto it. Mr. Hollingsworth waited for the footman and then stepped out onto the carpet.
Gideon and Ethan rounded the coach to meet the Royal Advisor to the king. The soldiers fell into ranks and escorted them inside. “You will address the king
in his throne room momentarily, then His Majesty has prepared a banquet in your honor.”
“Thank you,” Gideon said, “but that’s really not necessary.”
“Of course it is. Don’t be so modest, gentlemen. You are honored guests here in Macedon. Please allow His Majesty the pleasure of treating you as such.”
Gideon and Ethan bowed in acceptance, then followed Mr. Hollingsworth along the rose-colored carpet, through the gauntlet of soldiers, and into the castle. As they walked along the torch-lit hallway, Gideon wondered at what level this ruse would breakdown. Royal carriages, Gavin’s colors, trumpets and such…but do they really have a King of Macedon?
When the hall ended in great wooden double doors, Gideon stood near behind Mr. Hollingsworth. He was prepared to dispatch this so-called Royal Advisor at the first sign of deception. The guards opened the doors and Mr. Hollingsworth entered with Gideon and Ethan close behind.
“Presenting the Royal Advisor, Mr. Hollingsworth and the distinguished gentlemen from The Order of Shaddai,” the Herald announced.
To Gideon’s genuine surprise, a young man sat upon the throne in the modest chamber. Mr. Hollingsworth led the priests before the throne.
“Gentlemen, so good of you to answer our call for the Word of Shaddai. I am Nichols, King of Macedon.”
Gideon bowed. Ethan followed his mentor’s gesture of good will. “My name is Gideon and this is my apprentice, Ethan. Forgive me, my Lord, but I was unaware that a king presided over the throne in Macedon. According to our prior contacts, the island was still under the control of Mordred and his Wraith Riders.”
“Of course, of course,” Nichols said. “That was the case, until very recently. My father died, imprisoned by Mordred’s Wraith General, Hevas Rommil. In order to help secure the cooperation of the people, Rommil allowed my mother and myself to live in one of our homes on the other side of the island, howbeit under constant guard.