Stephen Lawhead - The sword and the flame

“So I give you these tokens of my esteem and gratitude.” Quentin beckoned to a page who came forward bearing a board covered with a runner of blue velvet on which rested three golden dragon broaches just like his own. The King took the first one from the board and fastened it at Theido’s shoulder, saying, “Theido, whose counsel is ever wise and good.”

He took up the next, affixed it to Ronsard’s cloak-“And Ronsard, whose dauntless courage is matched only by the strength of his arm…”

Quentin lifted the remaining broach and placed it on Toli’s cloak-“And Toli, whose love and loyalty hold firm even unto death. From this day forth you are Princes of the realm.” After a pause Quentin added, “Toli, you I would reward further by freeing you from your oath of service to me. Today and henceforth you are no longer servant.”

Quentin turned to the assemblage and presented the three with a sweep of his arm. “Behold my royal friends,” he said. “Let all men pay each one the courtesy and respect due a King.”

At once the whole assembly made a deep bow and then affirmed the King’s reward with loud shouts of acclamation that rang to the vault of the great hall and throughout the corridors and galleries of Askelon Castle.

Quentin mounted to his throne again and proclaimed, “This day will be a day of celebration throughout all Mensandor. Let there be feasting and music and entertainments for everyone!” The cheers which followed this address were drowned in the blare of the trumpets which sounded their clarion call throughout the castle from the high battlements to the town and the countryside beyond. “The celebration has begun!” the trumpets said. “Come and share in the rejoicing!”

And the people who heard that happy sound left their work, put on their finest clothes, and started for the castle to join in the high merriment and festivities.

It was nearing dusk-the red-gold disc of the sun was lowering in the sky away westward over Gerfallon’s broad back-before Quentin found an opportunity to slip away alone. Blazer was saddled and waiting for him and bore him quickly through the deserted streets of Askelon and out onto the plain.

Quentin found the shaded bower without any trouble; he had been there before with Durwin and remembered the bank overlooking the forest pool as a place where the hermit had loved to come and idle away the hours on a summer’s day. The grave mound was fresh and neatly overlaid with stones-a simple grave such as the hermit would have wanted-and already tender green shoots of new grass could be seen poking up between the rocks.

The King stood for a long time gazing reflectively at the grave, remembering the life he had known with the Holy Hermit of Pelgrin, as the simple folk called him still. That temporal life had now ended, but another had begun, and Quentin knew that he would see his friend again, that they would be together in a place without separation or the painful intrusion of death, and he was content to wait until that time.

The sound of hoofbeats signaled the end of his quiet reverie, and he turned to see two riders approaching. He waited while they dismounted and tied their horses to a poplar branch beside his. “So, I have been followed. I thought you two might have found a better way to occupy yourselves,” said Quentin.

Toli grinned and took Esme’s hand. “We wanted to talk to you in privacy,” he explained. “I saw you leave the celebration, so we waited a little and came after you.”

Quentin nodded, but said nothing, waiting for Toli to continue.

Toli glanced sideways at the woman beside him and then back at the King, licked his lips, and announced, “We have made a decision…”

“Oh?” teased Quentin. “Was there a decision to be made?”

Toli dropped his eyes. “Please, it was not an easy choice to make,”

“I am sorry. Forgive me,” said Quentin quickly. “Of course-it would not be easy for either of you. And it will not be easy for me. If I make light of it, it is only because I shall feel your absence most acutely.”

“Absence?”

“You will be going away, I know. But I could not be happier for either of you. It is the best thing-” He stopped when he saw the look which passed between Toli and Esme.

Esme laughed gently and replied, “We are not going away. At least not together. Not yet.”

“No?”

“No,” said Toli firmly.

“I have released you from service. You are free-you and Esme-to-”

“To do as we please. Yes, and we have chosen our course.”

“I am going to Dekra,” said Esme. “I felt something there that I must search out for myself. I felt the spirit of the God Most High move within me; I had a vision. He may be calling me to serve him in a special way. I want to go back and find out-I must find out. I want to learn all I can of the one I have pledged my life to before I make a life with another.”

“I see,” said Quentin nodding. “I know how you feel. I felt the same way, but it seems that Dekra was never chosen for me. My future lies on a different path.” He turned to Toli. “And you?”

“I will remain by your side, Kenta. I told you once that for men of my race, no higher honor could come to them but that they serve a great master and help him achieve his greatness. You have released me from my oath, as you did once before, and I take it up again and renew it.” Toli looked lovingly at Esme and clasped her hand more tightly. “It is true that we love each other, and perhaps someday we will join our lives. But for now-” He smiled, and the light kindled in his deep, dark eyes. “For now you are saddled with me once again, my friend.”

“And forever more, so it would seem.”

“Come, then,” said Toli. “Let us return to the celebration together.” He glanced at the grave, and then at his master. “If you are ready.”

Quentin looked back at the simple mound and said, “Yes, I am ready. We have already said our good-byes. He came to me, you see. I did not realize it then; I was in no condition to know for certain.

“In those first black days when I was out searching for my son-insane with grief and exhausted beyond pain or sleep-I found myself on the Holy Island. Perhaps I had been led there. However it was, Durwin appeared to me; I know now that it was he. He said good-bye and told me we would be together again. He knew how much it meant to me to see him one last time, and he came back to tell me to trust in the Most High. Had I but listened, I would have borne this trial more easily and accounted myself more worthily.”

Toli looked long at his master and said finally, “Yes, Kenta, you have changed. I saw it when you stood in the temple yard, and again in the great hall You have come to terms with your frailties as a man, and this makes you more of a King than before-a true Priest King.”

Quentin shrugged “I only know that I no longer burn to inaugurate the new era. The Most High will accomplish that as he will, and in his own time.”

The three rode back to Askelon across the plain, stopping at the site of the King’s Temple ruins, where inexplicably scores of people moved among the toppled stones, clearing away the rubble. Quentin recognised his master mason among them and hailed him. “Bertram! What is happening here? What are you doing?”

“Sire,” the man bowed, “we are preparing the site for building.”

“Why? Who gave the orders?”

The old mason scratched his jaw and cocked his head to one side. “No one ordered it, my lord. It was the townspeople’s idea; they insisted-said their new god ought to have a new temple. They aim to build one themselves. With your blessing, of course; we will follow the plans you have made.” Bertram scuttled away then, returning over the heap of broken stone to supervise the work.