Stephen Lawhead - The sword and the flame

“A King does not often have the opportunity of rewarding those who serve him as they deserve. But today I will do my best. First, however, I will punish the offenders.” He nodded to the trumpeter standing on the dais, wearing a tabard emblazoned with the royal device. The youth blew a strong, clear note, which was answered by the sound of marching feet.

Into the great hall came a contingent of knights dressed in their best armor, their breastplates burnished bright and their long scarlet cloaks billowing as they approached. Between them marched Lord Ameronis and his friend Lord Lupollen, both in chains. Both were gray-faced with dismay and kept their eyes lowered, not daring to look at the King.

“Lord Ameronis,” said Quentin when the knights had pushed them forward to the foot of the throne. Look at me, sir. The chagrined lord raised timid eyes. “It is with a distinctly altered attitude that we meet again, eh? You have had time to think on your crimes, and so have I.”

At this Lord Ameronis trembled visibly, expecting the worst.

The King continued. “Your crime is one of ambition, which I can understand and forgive-for I, too, have been ambitious in my own way. You wanted this crown and throne for your own, but that if nothing more than any lord dreams of one time or another, and so I forgive you there.

“You caused me anguish and inflicted hurt upon me while I was suffering under the grief of great loss. You took the sword, Zhaligkeer, which you knew to be mine and which you knew would have saved my son, and yet you withheld it. These are hurts practiced against me, and as one man to another I will forgive them, for you were blinded by your power-lust.

“But your actions caused great hurt and injury to soldiers who had no choice but to defend their King with limb and life. Many brave men fell in battle, some never to rise again; and their blood calls me to do justice.

“I could have you executed” -here Ameronis flinched -“but what would the shedding of your blood accomplish? Very little, I am persuaded, though there are those among us who would take some measure of satisfaction there.

“No, I have decided that you shall live, and that the support of all the aggrieved widows you have left without husbands, and all the children you have left fatherless shall be placed in your hands.”

“Ahh!” cried Ameronis. “I will have to sell half my land; and all my gain for the rest of my life will be forfeit!”

“So be it,” said the King flatly. “At least you will live to set the wrong you have done redressed. The families of the slain will become your families, the maimed will become your brothers. And so you will treat them, for if ever complaint is raised against you hereafter, your life will be ended.

“And you, Lord Lupollen,” continued Quentin, “you chose to throw your substance to the support of your friend Ameronis. As you thought to share in the spoils of his victory, so will you share in the loss of his defeat. For the sentence I have pronounced upon him shall be yours as well. I have no doubt that Ameronis will welcome your aid now and in the years to come.”

Next the remaining lords were brought before the throne. They paid homage respectfully, but remained grave and stolid. “My lords, I am of two minds about you,” said the King. “You had it within your power to turn Ameronis aside before he carried out his scheme, and you did not. Yet, unlike Lupollen, you saw clearly enough who to serve once the issue was forced.

“Therefore, Lords Edfrith, Gorloic, Relkin, and Denellon, I do hereby condemn your disloyalty. But I stand ready to call you friends again if you will swear fealty once more to the throne.”

The lords went down on one knee and swore before all the assembly an oath of loyalty to their monarch. When they had finished, they took their places with the rest.

“As for the others,” continued the King, “Nimrood, the High Priest, and their foul flock-their punishment has been delivered by the Most High, the final judge of all; and let no man say they received more than their due.” The pronouncement brought a murmur from all gathered there.

“Now then,” said Quentin, “bring forth my new friends that I may reward them.” The trumpeter sounded his call again, and the onlookers craned their necks to see a small boy, not much older than Prince Gerin, approach the throne timidly, followed by Pym the tinker and Tip, his dog. Quentin beckoned to the youngster’s parents who hung back meekly in the ranks. “Come closer, good people.” The farmer and his wife crept forward shyly and came to kneel beside their son and the tinker.

“Rise, my friends,” said the King. “For you are my friends-as true as any who have ever served the Dragon King’s throne.

“Renny, your young heart yearns for knighthood, but you have already shown yourself as brave as any knight in the realm, though you possess neither horse nor armor. Is it still your wish to be a knight?”

“Yes, Sire,” came the small voice in reply. “More than anything.”

“Then so be it. On this day your name shall be placed on the roll of the King’s knights. When you come of age, you will enter into the knighthood in service to the realm.” Quentin paused. “But a knight must learn to ride, and he must have much skill at arms. Therefore, you may keep the pony Tarky which you found and tried to return; keep him until such time as you are able to handle a charger from the King’s stables. Then you shall choose a mount of your own. What do you say to that, Renny?”

Words escaped the boy, but the light in his eyes said all.

“My son has asked that you be allowed to take instruction with him under the master-at-arms of Askelon Castle. A knight of the King, even a knight in training, must be housed and fed in a manner worthy of his master. So, Sir Renny, the crown will endow you with an annual stipend which your parents will use for you as they deem fit.”

The joy which shone on the faces of the three could not be contained, and they bowed their thanks again and again as they returned to their places in the crowd.

“And you, good tinker,” said the King. Pym folded his hands over his knee and gazed upward expectantly. “You found the Shining One and kept it safely hidden away, returning for it when you knew your King’s need. Doubtless you would have delivered it into my hand had you not been prevented.”

“Yes, Sire, it is a very fact, it is,” replied Pym.

“And it has reached my ears that you have long desired a horse and wagon to take your wares from town to village on your route.” At the tinker’s puzzled expression, Quentin asked, “Is this not true?”

“Oh, yes, Yer Highness. More than ye know… but-”

“Yes? Was there something else?”

“The sharping stone, Yer Majesty, Sire. We’uns had in mind a sharping stone on a treadle-foot fer sharping knives and shears and such like.”

“Of course, the sharpening stone! Such an oversight! Yes, you shall have the finest sharpening stone as can be found in all Mensandor. And Castle Askelon shall be your first stop whenever you pass this way.”

Pym clapped his hands at his good fortune, and Tip barked her master’s happiness. The two withdrew to the laughter and high acclaim of those gathered in the great hall.

“Lastly,” said Quentin when silence again reclaimed the hall, “I would reward my old friends. Come forward, Toli, Theido, and Ronsard.” He rose and descended from the dais to meet them at the foot of the throne. “No, do not kneel to me, brave sirs. Brothers do not kneel to one another, for your friendship has proven itself of highest mettle, stronger and more true than are the ties of birth and blood.

“How else can I reward your steadfastness and courage? What could I give you that you do not already have? Lands, position, title? And yet you stood ready to give of these things, and even life itself, for a friend-the more when that friend faltered. You did not abandon me, but acted for me with wisdom and courage, each one of you, in your actions, declaring yourself more noble than Kings.