The_Sword_of_Gideon Read online

  Isaiah nodded. “The invasion we feared has finally come to Wayland.â€�

  “Does the King know?â€� Seth asked.

  “A courier is already on his way to bring Stephen word, but I’m not sure what capability he still possesses after his defeat at Emmanuel. I’m afraid the situation is very dire.â€�

  Ethan had been staring at the wall during all of this as though he hadn’t heard. “Is Gideon dead?â€�

  Isaiah looked at him. “I don’t know, Ethan. I would have hoped so—â€�

  Ethan looked into his eyes, stunned.

  “—after all,â€� Isaiah continued, “it would become our duty to deal with him if he had survived. And that would be a very hard burden to place upon you or any of the surviving priests.â€�

  It had not occurred to Ethan, until that startling moment, that he should ever be called upon to kill Gideon. He had become more than a brother to Ethan in their relatively short time together. Harming him seemed unthinkable despite his betrayal. And he wasn’t even sure he believed that. There had to be some other reason, some way that Mordred had controlled him, forced him to lead his soldiers to the Temple. “Master, I can’t—â€�

  Isaiah leaned forward, placing his hand upon Ethan’s shoulders. “My son, I know as much as anyone how you must feel, but we have a duty unto Shaddai. I have known the man longer than any of you, and he has been my closest confident and friend for many years—a treasure of wisdom and skill among our Order. However, this betrayal cannot go unpunished, despite our feelings on the matter.â€�

  And then, suddenly, Ethan knew why Isaiah wished Gideon killed in the explosions which had brought down the mountain upon Shaddai’s Temple. He too wished it, now that he thought of the alternative. It hummed in his mind—a glimmer of hope that he would not have to ever see Gideon’s face again under these circumstances.

  “As I said, I would hope that he was killed—â€� Isaiah started again.

  Ethan saw the doubt in the old man’s eyes. “But?â€�

  Isaiah paused. “But we received a report from another of the High Priest’s spies, a day ago. A lone warrior, no doubt trained in the fighting arts of Shaddai’s Order, entered Wayland almost a day after you were taken by the King’s men.â€�

  Ethan realized he was holding his breath.

  “He ambushed several guards and infiltrated the fortress at the wall. This warrior started a fire and took one of their horses. They found the bodies of three of their elite guardsmen, sent to track down the thief, dead nearly a day’s travel into Wayland. One more survived the attack with a broken shoulder and leg. His description sounded very much like Gideon.â€�

  Fear welled up in Ethan’s mind. Surely the task of destroying one of The Order’s most revered warriors would fall to him, the Deliverer. How could it not? But no matter how much he thought on it, he could not see himself doing this awful deed.

  Isaiah sat back in his chair and sipped on his tea again. “Do not dwell on the matter now, Ethan. It will only trouble you more, and I need you for another task before we can consider anything else.â€�

  Ethan tried to relax, but it was impossible. Still, pushing the assassination of his priestly brother from his mind was far better than torturing himself with it. “What must I do?â€�

  “I fear the King will not take the news of Mordred’s invasion well. He has not been himself for some time, as I’ve heard from the court after your arrival. So we need to know what kind of threat we are facing. It may fall to The Order here, though I fear that alternative nearly as much, to devise some way of countering the attack that’s coming.â€�

  Ethan stood up, eager to busy himself with another task. “I’ll go find this armada right away, Master.â€�

  Isaiah stood along with the others. “Seth and Levi can help me here. Believe me, gentlemen, there’s much organizing that needs to happen if these priests are to be of use against Mordred and his army.â€�

  Ethan nodded and started to go.

  “Ethan,â€� Isaiah said, “be sure that you do not engage Mordred’s armada. We’ll need the information you gather in order to prepare here. And I wouldn’t want to risk losing you out there all alone.â€�

  Ethan tried to force a smile. “Yes, Master. I’ll try not to do anything foolish.â€� And with that, he disappeared into the spiritual realm.

  ARMADA

  Ethan zoomed through the ethereal plane, high above the sparse towns beyond the capital, the forests, the black cliffs of Wayland’s northern border and the vast Azure Sea beyond. Even the joy of such freedom and power could not stem the tide of sorrow overwhelming his heart. A brother had betrayed them and must be dealt with.

  He flew down close to the water, just above the rolling blue. Dolphins leaped nearby, but Ethan soon left their best efforts behind him. Given the size of this armada and the approximate position, he assumed they would be easily spotted. He ascended higher and higher, searching the horizon as miles passed by in seconds.

  After nearly an hour, Ethan passed through a thick bank of fluffy white clouds. When he emerged again, a vast deep blue jewel spread out before him and upon its surface, chopping through the smooth Azure, Mordred’s armada.

  Nearly fifty ships sailed before him. Many of them were huge barges packed with enough supplies for an army and propelled by at least one hundred oars extending out both port and starboard sides. Engines of war perched upon some of the expansive decks. Mordred wouldn’t be holding anything back when he invaded Wayland’s capital.

  Ethan tried to peer beneath the surface of the ships and found his sight barred by demonic activity. Of course there would be massive amounts of spirits to accompany Mordred and his army. The familiar buzzing along his skin alerted him to their definite presence. He didn’t see any demons at the moment, only felt them. Ethan started down toward the first ships in the line. Isaiah’s words resounded in his mind. “Do not engage Mordred’s armada.â€� Just a closer look, he decided.

  Ethan came down upon the massive, flat deck of one of the carrier barges. He noticed that the men on the deck, going about their duties, were not men at all, but beasts of some kind. They walked as men, but some had the faces of bulls, goats, reptiles or much worse. He wondered if these might be more of the hybrid soldiers which Isaiah had been telling them about. The same which Gideon had led through the mountains to destroy the Temple of Shaddai.

  One of the hybrid soldiers stopped, looking in Ethan’s direction. He soon continued on with his work somewhere else on the deck. The buzzing in his body had grown when the hybrid was near. Could it be that these were indwelt by demons? If they were, then why hadn’t he been able to see them? And could these strange creatures see him in his spiritual form? The hybrid hadn’t seemed to notice him.

  Ethan turned his attention back to the rows of catapults fastened to the deck behind him. Heavy ropes held them secure as the sea rolled beneath the great barge. I wonder what would happen. Ethan suddenly had an idea that brought a smile to his face. He drew his spiritual blade and sliced through the ropes nearest to him.

  The ropes sprang away under tension with a sharp whip-crack. Ethan leaped after the other ropes, zealously slashing them all as he came to them. The bindings flew around the deck like the tentacles of some angry kraken. Some of the soldiers had taken notice by now and ran to try and stop what was happening.

  The heavy wooden catapults began to shift upon the deck as the ship lifted with the waves. A hybrid appeared behind Ethan and slashed at him with a great broadsword just as he slashed one of the final ropes left holding the war engines in place. Ethan started as the sword fell too late for him to do anything about it.

  The heavy blade crashed against o
ne of the giant wooden wheels on the catapult, passing right through Ethan. He suddenly realized the beast might be able to see him, in his ethereal state, but it couldn’t touch him. Whatever these hybrids were, Mordred had apparently overdone himself. Ethan whipped his own sword around and cleaved the bull-faced creature in two through its torso. More deckhands came running as catapults started to teeter and roll across the deck. One began a slow journey away from a dozen hybrids as the ship dipped into the trough of a wave, but then turned back upon them as the ship crested. The catapult rolled over the demonic crew before they could jump out of its way.

  Another engine of war slid sideways, taking out more soldiers and stacks of crated supplies fastened to the deck before smashing into the first catapult, both going over the side of the barge, crashing into the sea. Ethan spotted some of the soldiers crawling across one of the war engines, piecing together the cut rope as best they could. He leaped to the catapult and sliced through the lock which held the arm down. It sprang forward throwing soldiers across the deck, flipping its base over in the process.

  One of the catapults rolled from its place at the bow of the barge down along the length of the ship as it crested another wave. The huge piece of machinery plowed through deckhands, crates, and anything else standing in its way until it reached the stacked bridge tower where all commands for steering and speed were given. Ethan watched with satisfaction as the ship’s captain, with many more hybrids, clamored along the bridge catwalks and staircases as they realized their doom. The runaway catapult, unabated by any obstacle on the deck, exploded through the bridge tower sending men and a huge scattering of debris into the Azure Sea. The catapult reached the stern of the ship, slowed by the last impact, and ever so gently teetered on the edge before the ship dipped again at the bow into the trough of a wave. The catapult crashed back down onto the deck and skidded sideways back through its path of destruction, before glancing off a mound of wreckage and dumping over the side of the barge, through a dozen portside oar placements, into the sea.

  Ethan’s ethereal body prickled with spiritual energy, forcing him to turn around. He barely managed to bring his blade up to block the first strike of a demon in its disembodied form. Their ethereal swords clashed with a bright flash of discharged power. Ethan noticed, behind this reptilian-faced opponent, a host of spirits coming toward the barge. He forced the spirit back and drew another blade to his aid.

  While blocking the demon’s strike he retaliated with his second sword, driving the heavenly sword into its chest. The wicked spirit dissolved, a sandcastle blown away by a gust of wind. More demons came at him, but there were too many to fight. He would surely be overwhelmed by their numbers. Isaiah’s sage advice rang true as he realized his foolish mistake in coming onboard the barge in the first place.

  Ethan whirled around, flinging first one blade and then the second. A demon blocked the first, but the second cut him through. Seeing a successful manner of defending himself, Ethan flew backward away from the barge, hurling heavenly swords into the throng of pursuing demons as fast as they rematerialized in his hands. It had the effect of hurling rocks at a swarm of bees—only those caught unaware were struck, but it staggered and confused their attack enough for Ethan to remain ahead of them.

  The armada had begun to give wide berth to the crippled barge now drifting with the current amidst a huge debris field floating upon the surface of the sea around it. Ethan regretted only having the chance to disable one of Mordred’s ships, but it was all he could manage and, perhaps, more than he should have ever attempted.

  The horde of demons began to gain in their pursuit as the mass of ships fell away, becoming only toys in a great pond. Suddenly Ethan gasped in pain. His old wounds, delivered by the Prince of Demons, ached, sending waves of agony through his ethereal form. His flight through the spiritual realm slowed, and the demons gained on him.

  Ethan staggered, trying to keep on going. Despite not having to breathe, he felt as though he were suffocating. His pace slowed even more, until the demons came within striking range. Several raised their weapons, which transformed into ethereal bows, and fired arrows of flame toward him. Ethan cried out, “Lord Shaddai, please deliver me! I can’t make it on my own!â€�

  Just as suddenly as Ethan’s strength had been sapped away, it returned unto him tenfold. He shot forward away from the horde of pursuing demons. Their flaming arrows dissipated into nothing behind him as the clouds blurred, his escape now faster than he’d ever traveled on the spiritual plane before.

  Jericho hovered high above Mordred’s command ship sailing on below him. The barge, where the boy had attacked, remained crippled and drifting. Several ships of the armada had diverted and were presently trying to moor along side the vessel in order to take on its remaining men and supplies. The operation would take a while, but with the help of his demons, they might accomplish the task in a third of the time.

  The horde of demons which had taken up pursuit, chasing the Deliverer away, were now returning, a black cloud on the horizon, approaching fast. They began to disperse to clean-up duties as Jericho’s thoughts directed them. One of the demons returned to Jericho directly. “My Lord, we’ve chased the boy away from the armada.â€�

  Jericho’s eyes burned into the demon lieutenant before him. “You mean he escaped, don’t you? I wanted the boy destroyed, or captured at the very least.â€�

  The abased demon bowed his head. “My apologies, my lord. We thought we had him, before his prayer allowed him to escape.â€�

  Jericho closed his eyes slowly, frustrated. “Of course it did. Organize the cleanup of this debacle and get the armada moving again as quickly as possible.â€�

  “Yes, my lord,â€� the demon lieutenant said, snapping to attention. He flew straightway to the barge and the other demons already beginning to help align two of the other vessels so they could transport the salvageable materials onboard for the remainder of the journey to Wayland.

  Jericho descended to the bridge of the renovated Man-o-war, now serving as Mordred’s command ship. The warlord stood on the poop deck, watching the progress of those ships diverted to the cleanup. Jericho became visible to him with a flash of light meant to draw his attention away from the sea.

  Mordred turned, as expected, clearly unsurprised to see Jericho standing there. “What news? Was it the boy?â€�

  Jericho stood stiff, emotionless. “Yes.â€�

  “Did your demons destroy him?â€�

  “No.â€�

  Mordred seemed to prickle at the news, though he likely had suspected as much. “I see. Well, you seem to be unconcerned by this turn of events. The boy will certainly deliver news of our imminent attack to Stephen.â€�

  “I doubt very much that our voyage has managed to remain hidden. The ships we encountered and destroyed near the Northern Cape almost certainly got away a distress call by messenger hawk before we ever engaged them. The boy’s report will make little difference. At least his retreat tells us that he is as weak as we might hope.â€�

  Mordred considered that piece of wisdom with a slight smile, but then relented. “Could he have seen the new ships?â€�

  “Very doubtful, My Lord,â€� Jericho said. “Your modifications to the Man-o-wars would appear as nothing but more sail stowed away in extra compartments. They will not expect what is coming.â€�

  Mordred smiled. “Yes, of course they won’t. How could they? And Wayland will be broken for their insolence once and for all.â€�

  KING’S ADDRESS

  Gideon heard the mass of people long before he ever saw them crowding through the streets of Wayland’s capital. He had breached the wall with ease, using a secret tunnel left by The Order of Shaddai. The tunnel had been shown to him years before by Isaiah as one dug for an emergency escape in the event of a siege. For whateve
r reason, the tunnel had remained unguarded and perhaps even forgotten all these years later.

  With his bow in hand, Gideon crept threw mostly deserted streets. Dusk was fast approaching, but still everyone in the city had gathered at the central palace courtyard. The King must be addressing the people.

  Gideon noticed there were few flat rooftops in Evelah. Finding a place close enough to the palace and away from the crowds for an assassination would be difficult at best. As he followed the flow of people, he finally came to see thousands gathered before Stephen’s palace. High above the crowd stood several guards upon a lone balcony made of polished marble, bearing a tapestry with the King’s crest upon it. His target would be easy enough to find if only he could find the right place to shoot from.

  To his right, Gideon saw a wall leading away from the palace itself. That might do very nicely, he thought. The crowd consisted of mostly women and children with the elderly sprinkled among them. The debacle at Emmanuel had hurt Stephen more than Gideon had previously realized—thousands of husbands and fathers had never come home to their families.

  Gideon latched onto that thought. Perhaps there would be some justice in his actions today. The King who had disobediently assumed the role of Shaddai’s Deliverer, and caused these people so much pain, would soon be dead.

  Dusk had come sooner than Ethan had expected. As he passed over Evelah, heading for the Temple, he noticed the crowds gathering below at the palace. Something important must be about to happen. Ethan flew over the thousands assembled before the wide marble veranda as King Stephen appeared, flanked by his royal guard. Ethan came in close, still invisible to the naked eye, and perched against the vertical wall to Stephen’s left side.

  As the King stepped up to the marble banister, the crowd below became quiet, eager to hear what news could be so important that it must be shared at this late hour in the day. “My good people,â€� the King said in a deep booming voice which, due to the walls enclosing the courtyard lawn, managed to reverberate to the fullest extent of the crowd. “We have suffered here in Wayland with the loss of so many of our esteemed warriors at the hands of that vile fiend, Mordred, and his demonic hordes. And I had hoped to spare our citizens any further pain, However, I have just received word that Mordred plans to invade Wayland.â€�