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.
“About a year ago, I was able to organize a revolution and overthrow the sparse army remaining on the island. I captured General Rommil myself and in a gesture of good will, banished him from the island rather than kill him.”
“A mighty deed, for such a young man,” Gideon said.
Nichols swelled with pride. He wasn’t the sort of man one would consider to be a mighty warrior. It wasn’t his size that was in question so much as his manner. Nichols was a bit foppish and pudgy to boot.