James Somers - The Sword of Gideon

Ethan watched Seth. The blind priest of Shaddai hadn't spoken in sometime and, despite the wet and the cold, he remained passive.

"I still say, you should get out of here, Ethan," Levi complained. "Disappear out of this cage and away with you. Stephen's fury is most likely to fall upon you anyway. You saw how he was toward the prophecy."

Ethan smiled, tightening his folded arms against his body for warmth. "I couldn't leave the two of you. Who knows what this is actually about?"

"I would agree with the Captain," Seth added. "Whatever the king's intentions, this welcome wagon he's sent for us doesn't bode well. At the least you might escape and remain free to aid us should it go badly when we come before him."

Ethan considered it. Curious eyes followed their progress through the streets of the city. These people didn't look like they were used to seeing prisoners paraded through their midst on a regular basis. "There's no rush. I can realm shift anytime," Ethan said. "I'm actually very curious to see what the King means by all of this. And most likely Isaiah will be somewhere nearby. I'm sure he wouldn't allow Stephen to do anything rash concerning his priests."

"Don't be too sure," Levi said. "Stephen's mood, following the loss of nearly his entire army, was nothing like the man who led me to a saving faith in Shaddai. He's changed and not for the better."

The carriage lumbered on until it finally wound through Evelah's wide lanes to the gate of the palace itself. A wall, two stories high, encircled the entire structure. Archers stood watch at equidistant posts upon the wall, looking, for the most part, bored-past even the hope of something interesting occurring. When they saw the carriage, however, most of them perked up a bit. Perhaps they might get the chance to shoot a fleeing prisoner in the back after all. One of the soldiers grinned at another, pointing.

They stopped inside the palace courtyard, where a brick pathway led toward the main entry beyond. Several guards had come down from the wall eager to help unload the prisoners-just in case. Despite Levi's leering at them, Ethan and his companions gave the soldiers no trouble and were led quickly into the palace with their hands still held fast in iron shackles.

Two great, wooden doors, bearing iron bands, parted before them as they sloshed with their wet sandals upon the cold stones. Beyond, at the far end of a tall and crowded throne room, sat King Stephen upon a high-backed throne of silver. The silver bird of prey, his family's crest, flew upon a sky of purple on the massive tapestry above him on the wall.

Ethan might have expected the man to remain disheartened, following the terrible defeat he had faced in Nod at the white walls of Emmanuel City, but King Stephen appeared more vexed than before. On the Emmanuel Road, leading away from the battlefield, Ethan had met a regal king, bloodied and battered to be sure, but still proud and honorable even in defeat. Here, sitting upon his throne now, Stephen held the wild eye of a predator-primal and dangerous.

At least two dozen guards escorted them down the narrow purple carpet leading up to Stephen's throne. Ethan watched the faces of courtiers and ladies dressed in their finery. These dangerous prisoners provided the latest intrigue for those who lived for it. Some turned away when he met their gaze. Others mused in whispers with their neighbors, and a few young ladies even batted their eyes seductively at him. Ethan turned away, blushing. He found Levi rolling his eyes at him instead.

As they approached the throne, Stephen tensed like a cat ready to spring upon a cornered mouse. He placed a silver, jewel-encrusted goblet down upon a tray holding fresh cut fruit and pieces of sliced beef and cheese, almost spilling it all with the force of the gesture. But his eyes never left the men approaching him.

Ethan, Levi and Seth came to stand just before the short set of steps leading onto the throne platform. Stephen's eyes found Ethan in particular, his eyes burning into him as though he might kill this priest of Shaddai with his stare alone.

Levi bowed before the king, his manacles clanking around his wrists. But Stephen's eyes didn't depart from Ethan until the Captain spoke. "Your Majesty," he said, employing all the diplomacy an ex-pirate might muster. "I'm glad to see that you are well-"

King Stephen seized upon the intrusion like an adder's strike. "And why should I not be, Captain Bonifast? Did you think me so stupid that I would not know the mischief you've conjured against me with this villainous dog?"

Levi's jaw fell slack in confusion. Stephen's finger trembled, outstretched toward Ethan to emphasize his last syllable. Ethan gulped down the lump building in his throat. Caution was called for, only he wasn't sure what he could have possibly done to gain the King's fury.

Levi interceded before the question could spring from Ethan's lips. "Your Majesty, I'm quite certain there must be some mistake. Ethan has been loyal to The Order of Shaddai since the time you met him on that fateful day so many months ago. Isaiah himself, I'm sure, would be glad to vouch for his unshakeable character and bravery against our mutual enemy."

"You mean to say ally, Captain," Stephen shook visibly as he spoke, his anger a furnace barely contained. "My spies have brought me word of the young Nodian priest who has turned to ally himself with Mordred. Do not think that I will be swayed by a rogue's tongue from that which I know to be fact! You are clearly here in Wayland to spy us out before the invasion already on its way around Cape Redemption, set to land on these very shores at my doorstep."

He stood now, quivering with rage as he spoke. "Had I not wanted to see you in this villain's company for myself, I would have had my men execute you on the spot in Fenceton!"

Ethan could stand no more of these false accusations. He spoke up in a loud authoritative voice, surprising himself. "Your Highness, despite the accusations brought against me, I remain a faithful priest to my Order and servant of the Lord, Shaddai. He has sent me to proclaim the hour of his deliverance and to dispense his justice."

King Stephen thrust his finger toward Ethan furiously. "How dare you insinuate yourself into the prophecy? Guards, kill them all immediately!"

What happened in only a fraction of a second, for everyone else, seemed to drag into long minutes for Ethan. He phased into the spiritual realm, more spectral than truly invisible, passing through the shackles binding his wrists as six of the soldiers standing guard around them drew their bows and released their arrows.

Seth had begun to react. Levi hadn't yet. Several guards had started to release their swords with bloodlust in their eyes.

Six arrow shafts split the atmosphere toward the place where Ethan had been standing and where his friends still stood. He danced elegantly among the arrows, turning to each in turn with gentle glancing sweeps of his hands, caressing them into changes of trajectory-the archers becoming the new targets.

As six arrows dashed into the right thighs of the six archers who had fired them, Ethan's spiritual blade split into two, leaping to his hands already in motion. He divided each of the other guard's swords through their scabbards, barely a blur to the naked eye, even before the men could finish drawing them.

Ethan became fully flesh once again. His empty manacles completed their descent to the purple runway carpet behind him with a dull clank. Levi jumped, only having just begun to raise his bound hands, trying to ward off the archers he'd known were going to fire. The archers, for their part, fell to the floor in pain, grasping their wounded legs, as stunned as anyone.

King Stephen stood there, heaving, his mouth agape in disbelief. The court fell silent as gasps of alarm and the sound of severed sword blades hitting the floor died away. After a long moment, staring at Ethan, Stephen said, "You can't be him."