Stephen Lawhead - The sword and the flame

“I will go with you,” said Theido.

“And I,” said Ronsard. His words were echoed all around, so that when the Dragon King rode out from Ameron Castle there followed behind him a great train made up of lords and soldiers and people from the countryside who had been drawn to the scene of the battle. And all made their way northward through Pelgrin Forest toward Narramoor and the High Temple beyond.

RAIN PATTERED in the temple yard all through the night. Toli lay awake, listening, praying for deliverance for himself and the little Prince, and for the courage to face whatever awaited them. When morning came, the sky remained dark and overcast although the rain had stopped and a fresh wind had risen from the west.

When Prince Gerin awakened, Toli stood over the place he had occupied all night during his long vigil. At the moment the boy’s eyes blinked open, he sat upright on his straw mattress and said, “Today is the day of our freedom! Isn’t it, Toli? Today my father will come for us!”

Toli nodded and smiled to see the faith of the boy, undimmed by the long, numbing days of captivity. “Yes, today we will be free.” He looked at the Prince for a long while, then sat down beside him on the bed. When he spoke again, it was in a more serious tone.

“Gerin, I have something to tell you.”

The youngster waited for him to continue.

Toli turned toward him. “You know that I love you as my own son. That is why I would not have you ignorant of what may take place today.”

“I am no longer afraid, Toli. I was before, but only for a little while. But my father is King, and he will not allow anything to happen to us. I know it.”

Toli smiled again and said, “Yes, I believe he will come. But… there are times when even Kings are powerless over events. Your father is King, yes, but he is also a man and may not be able to change all that he would like. Sometimes things are done that no one can undo.”

Gerin remained silent for a time, thinking on Toli’s words. “Will they kill us?” he asked at last. Without waiting for an answer he blurted ahead, “I am not afraid to die.”

“There is no shame in being afraid. There have been times that I have feared for my life. But courage comes in not allowing your fear to win over you.”

“Yes, but I am not afraid now. I have been thinking. The Most High has his purpose-that is what Durwin always said-and if it is that I must die for the kingdom to be saved, then I will do it.”

Toli marveled at such simple, wholehearted trust. “Yours are brave words, young sir, and wiser than you know. And yes, it may be that our lives are required. I know that I will go easier with such a strong comrade beside me.” He pulled the boy close in a tight hug. “But we are not dead yet, and the end is not yet revealed. We must still believe that the King will save us, Gerin.”

“I know he will, Toli. He is my father.”

They talked no more of the impending confrontation, but turned to other themes, remembering happier times. When the temple guards came for them, they found the cell ringing with laughter as Toli recounted his recent recollections of the Prince learning to ride and jump.

“How heartening to hear our prisoners enjoying their last moments so pleasantly,” said Nimrood, stepping into the cell. “Would you agree, Pluell?”

The High Priest ducked in behind Nimrood. His face was white and his eyes and lips set in a fierce scowl. “This has gone far enough, Nimrood. Too far. Let them go now before the King gets here. There is still time.”

“Time, yes-time to groom our captives and make them presentable. We must not let anyone think that we have mistreated our guests. No, that would not do at all.” He beckoned to the guards still standing in the corridor, and they came forward carrying basins of water and clean linen towels and the prisoners’ clothes, which had been taken from them the day before. “See? Freshly laundered. Fit for the King himself. Oh, I hope he appreciates the trouble we have gone to on your behalf, Princeling. But then, I am certain he will understand.”

“Please,” begged Pluell, his face contorting in a grimace of pain, “please, let them go. There is nothing to be gained by going through with it.”

“Silence, fool!” flared Nimrood. “We have been through this time and again. You weary me with your whining. I will hear no more of it! Do you understand me? No more. It is decided.”

Toli watched the two warily as he washed himself and shed the filthy robe he had been given. “What does he mean-nothing to be gained by going through with it?” asked Toli as he pulled on his clothes.

“See?” said Nimrood, turning on the High Priest. “You have ruined our surprise.”

Toli advanced on the old sorcerer. The guards drew their swords and held them at ready. “You do not plan to let us go whether the King meets the ransom or not, do you?” said Toli flatly. “You mean to kill us regardless.”

Nimrood leveled his eyes upon him, and Toli saw the depths of hate within them. He knew he faced a being of pure evil. Still, he did not shrink back. “You, Jher dog, should have known that I would never allow you to escape twice. I, Nimrood, will have my revenge-on you and that grasping, spineless master of yours. And it has not been magic that has overthrown you, no-you saw to that long ago when you robbed me of my powers. It has been my own cunning, my superior wits, that have brought you down.”

Nimrood walked across the cell to where Prince Gerin stood. Toli started to move toward him, but felt the sharp point of a sword in his back. The old necromancer placed his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “But you do not have to be sacrificed, boy. Look at me.” The Prince raised his eyes. Nimrood gazed down at him, saying, “I will offer you a choice. Come with me. Become my pupil, and I will teach you secrets such as no man, save Nimrood only, has ever known. I could give you such powers, boy-power over fire and air, earth and water, life and death. Come with me, and let me be your teacher.” He raised a hand and stroked the youngster’s fair head. “Eh? What say you, lad?”

“No! In the name of the Most High God!” cried Toli. “Leave the boy alone!”

Gerin shivered and, as if awakening from a lulling sleep, shook the sorcerer’s hands from him “No!” he shouted and ran to stand with Toli.

Nimrood’s eyes narrowed to hate-filled slits. “I gave you a choice; remember that when your blood runs out upon the altar-stone, impudent young cub. I could have given you powers and wealth unimaginable.”

“The Most High will reckon with you, Nimrood,” Toli said firmly. “He watches over his servants and remembers the injustices practiced against them. He will repay and bring you to account.”

Nimrood whirled on Toli and his hand flashed out, catching him on the side of the face. The blow resounded in the stunned silence that followed. “Shut up!” spat Nimrood savagely. Fire burned from his eyes; his lips dripped spittle. “Shut up! Do you think I care anything for your petty god? Ha! He is less than the worm that crawls through the dung heap to me. Little men”-Nimrood glared into every face before him-“today you will see how your little gods behave when challenged with true power!”

The necromancer turned and strode to the cell door. “I am finished, and it is time. Bring them.”

High Priest Pluell threw a frightened look behind him at the prisoners and then fled after his demented master. The temple guards, six of them altogether, some with lances and some with swords, prodded the captives with the points of their weapons and marched them off down the corridor.

“I do not know what will happen, Gerin,” whispered Toli as they walked along, guards ringing them in on every side. “But stay alert to any possibility of escape. I, too, will be watching, and if I say ‘run,’ you fly as fast as you can and do not look back. Agreed?”