The chamber had been a complete mess by the time they’d finished rescuing the boy: a room flooded with wine, bodies, and tumbled furnishings. Today, it stood clean, at least cleaner than other places he’d passed along the way here. The guards carried him inside, and the doors were shut after them.
Two rows of guards stood at attention on either side of the room. They appeared unthreatened by Gideon’s presence. He wondered what he must look like after his internment in the stone cell. He felt as though he were on the brink of death. The looks from the guards ranged from pity to disgust.
At the far end of the massive room, Mordred sat upon the throne of Emmanuel. A servant girl sat next to him, feeding him grapes and other kinds of fruit from a silver platter. When Mordred saw Gideon dragged into the room and brought before him, he smiled and waved the girl away.
Mordred took a drink from a golden goblet, his eyes never leaving the emaciated priest before him. Gideon noticed General Rommil standing obediently at Mordred’s right side. Both men were great in size and Gideon suddenly felt very small and frail before them.
“My dear, Gideon,” Mordred said pleasantly. “I’m so very glad to see you.” Mordred whispered to the servant girl. She stepped down from the platform, carrying her tray of fruit and stopped in front of Gideon.
His eyes flashed with desire for the bananas, grapes, pineapple, and apple slices sitting on the silver tray. The girl offered the tray to Gideon. He didn’t care anymore if suddenly the food turned into something horrible. He had to have something to eat.
Gideon reached for the pieces of fruit with his manacled hands. He sank his teeth into the food and nearly fainted from the overload of flavor flooding his parched senses. He savored it only a moment and then greedily took more-as much as he could hold-then shoved it into his mouth.
“My poor, Gideon. I’m so very sorry for the way you have been treated,” Mordred said. “I had not realized you were not eating all this time.”
Gideon paused to look up at Mordred in disgust. Did he really expect him to believe these lies?
“When General Rommil informed me of your condition, I knew we had to get you out of that awful prison cell immediately,” Mordred continued. His voice dripped honey, but Gideon knew his words were nothing but poison.
Mordred stood and descended from his throne. He walked up to Gideon, and the servant girl fell away. Gideon watched mournfully as the food platter went with her. “I had to be sure I could trust you, Gideon. But now I feel we can come to some understanding with one another. You see, I have no desire to kill you. In fact, I believe we could even work together for a common good in the Kingdom of Nod.”
Gideon glared at the warlord. “You and I working together? Never,” he spat. “You might as well kill me and be done with all of this pretense. I’ll never serve you.”
Mordred might have erupted into a rage, but he refrained and simply smiled. “I don’t think you understand what I’m offering, Gideon.”
“I don’t care what you’re offering. You’ve nothing I could possibly want.”
Mordred laughed. “Ah yes, the priest so devoted to his Order of Shaddai. Of course, peace in this kingdom and freedom for yourself would have no bearing on the situation.”
Gideon couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You bring peace to Nod? I’m not a fool, Mordred.”
“I think perhaps you are,” Mordred said flatly. “You see, I know your real desires Gideon. I know about your wife and your child.”
He knew-this monster knew about his precious Sarah. Gideon thrust at him against his chains, but the guards had little difficulty restraining him.
“Gideon, please,” Mordred continued. “I’m offering you the chance to go to them and be a family. You and your wife can raise your son together and be happy.”
A son? How does he know if I have a son, or not?
Mordred understood his expression. “Yes, Gideon, you have a son. The child was born while you were away.”
Suddenly Gideon realized Sarah must have been taken. “Where is she!” he demanded.
Mordred paused, then returned to sit upon his throne. He smiled when he looked at Gideon again. “You’re right. She is here and the child. Both of them are perfectly safe…for now.”
“If you harm them I’ll-”
“Please, Gideon, save your pathetic threats. You are in no position.”
Gideon settled down a bit, his confidence drained. “What do you want?”
Mordred drew another drink from the goblet sitting on the broad arm of his throne. “I want to make you an offer. You have great skill as I understand it. I’d like to put those skills to better use.”
Gideon felt sure where this was leading, and he didn’t like it.
“I want you to lead my army after the boy Deliverer. Kill him for me. Then, you and your family can go in peace. Live in Nod with a king’s ransom, or go far away if you like. It really doesn’t matter to me.”
Gideon hardened to stone before Mordred. “I cannot. I will not.”
Mordred hardened against him, as well. He turned to Rommil and nodded. The Wraith General went to a side door and emerged with Sarah in his grasp. When she saw Gideon standing there, she seemed almost not to recognize him.
Gideon lunged against his chains to get to her, but it was no use. His guards held him fast. The two of them cried out for one another. Mordred stood. Sarah carried their infant child in her arms. Mordred took Gideon’s son away as she screamed for after him.
Gideon lunged against his chains harder, but he only stumbled to the floor.
Mordred carried the child back to his throne and stood there. “I can see there is no convincing you, Gideon. I’ve made a reasonable offer, and you have refused…so be it.” He nodded to Rommil again.
The Wraith General removed a large dagger from his belt and, without hesitation, he thrust Sarah threw the back. She had been watching the child in Mordred’s arms and pleading with Gideon to stop them from harming their son. The strike caught her unaware.
She fell to the floor, bleeding before Rommil.
Gideon screamed in agony, as though his very heart had been ripped from his chest. He fell and lay there on the cold stones, tears streaming down his dirt-stained face, watching the life ebb from Sarah’s eyes. At that moment, he felt as though he had been torn into pieces. He gladly would have accepted such a fate if it would have saved her. Now, it was too late.
Gideon laid on the stones for what seemed like an eternity-his strength sapped away. Mordred waited, savoring the moment. Rommil wiped the blood from his dagger and replaced it. No pity or remorse shown on his face.
Slowly, Gideon found strength enough to stand. He glared at Mordred, then at Rommil-he had done the deed. He had put the blade to her.
Mordred sat upon the throne, cooing the child. Gideon watched him, full of hatred for the man. “Gideon, before you say anything else on impulse, I would remind you that your son is depending upon you.”
That statement snapped Gideon out of his malice. The child-his and Sarah’s child-still lived.
Mordred glared at the priest. “My offer still stands, Gideon. Do not refuse me again.”
Gideon watched his son, so helpless-all that remained of his precious wife and the love they had hoped for in life. He couldn’t do it, but he had no choice. He spoke through teeth gritted together so tightly they attempted to bar him from speaking. “I will do as you want for the promise of my child’s safe return to me and our freedom when it is done.” He looked at Rommil, who wore a smirk on his face. “And for him.”
“What do you mean?” Mordred asked, glancing happily toward the general.
“I mean me and him, right here, right now,” Gideon said. “If I win, I lead your army myself to do this. If I lose then I’ll be dead and it’s up to you to get Ethan.”
Mordred grinned viciously at Gideon. The general stood there bemused, sizing up the priest just in case. “I agree,” Mordred said. “This might be fun, eh, Hevas?”