by Justin Kauer
Chapter Seven – Setting Fire to the Flesh
“I am a bacon man, myself, but in a pinch like this, a tri-plunge will definitely do!” said one of Decebal’s personal guards. “It is amazing that such a small waif took this out all by herself!”
“I am no waif, Bergeron; I am Princess Freya of Slagvalthstanchia!” Joan revealed.
“No wonder she just called it her homeland; it’s too long to remember very often!” the guard blurted back.
“I will have no more talk of me like that to escape your lips, or I’ll have them beestung!” Joan or, apparently now, Freya threatened.
Shocked into blithering, both by the fact that she had been right behind him to hear his outburst, and that she should introduce herself like that, the guard asked, “Beestung?”
“Yes. It is an age-old practice among my people from ancient day that all who shame royalty are fitted with a hood that has only one hole for the mouth, and then that person’s head is shoved into a bees nest. It was also used for torture until our enemy figured us out and began to send spies that were allergic to the stings. When the time came for them to be questioned, they would swell up and die!” another guard explained to the roar of laughter from the rest of the men.
“Yes, but it is a practice that has also been outlawed by the Treaty of Halppherstound and anyone caught doing such is subject to death!” Wafflestonks shot back.
Freya seemed unaffected by Wafflestonks’ assertion, for she said, “In my homeland . . .”
Some of the men chuckled.
Miffed, she continued, “In my homeland, we are not part of that treaty!”
“But you were part of Schlotzderferd before it was split!”
“As we have split, we are no longer under that treaty’s bound.”
“You are, however under Slagvalthstanchian law, which is where the outlawing of the practice originated in the first place!” Garrve said. “Leave him alone, Joan. He simply did not know that you are of royal blood, or maybe he just thought that it was still fine to treat you so. You have made your point, and from here on out, you shall be treated as dignified as you deserve; deserve the very best!”
Freya thought for a moment and then softly stated, “I am sorry. I do apologize. You are correct. I should not behave so badly, especially now that I have been freed. I have just had . . .”
Garrve interrupted, “We understand, Princess. You have been treated badly. You have been taken from your people at the point of a sword, paraded through a desert like a trophy, and . . .”
“And I have been treated most kindly by those who have come to my rescue. It may have been unwittingly that they did so, (their rescuing me, I mean) but you have all shown me a kindness that had been lost from my life for quite some time. I shall be ever in your debt.”
“It was not unwittingly, Princess. We were out looking for you when we lost Alban and then our other leader, Bracktan, to Wafflestonks.” Garrve began to explain.
Meanwhile, Alban had gone to see how Ryan had fared after having been ssshhklonched.
“How is he?” the man formerly known as Alban asked.
“Well, there is good news and bad,” said Decebal’s surgeon. “He had on some plate armor, but the arrow penetrated that, and found a hole in the chain mail, from the looks of things. It went into his shoulder blade, though, so it did stop there.”
“I count myself as extremely lucky to have been shot in that specific spot!” Ryan growled in great mordant glower. “Why, the very virtue of her bow gives me to think that she will be taken up to God, like the prophets of old!”
“Also, the head of the arrow did not come out.” continued the surgeon, unaffected by the outburst. “Part of it seems to have broken off inside of him.” continued the surgeon, ignoring Ryan’s ravings.
“It was not an arrow, and there was no head. It was a bolt from a zepphant crossbow, designed to penetrate armor and merely wound the soldier. I should think that he will make a full recovery.” the ex-Alban stated. “Could you please excuse us for a moment?”
“Yes, sir, if you want to stitch him up! Get both holes, mind you.”
“Both holes?” Ryan questioned.
“He has another gash in his side, probably from the trigore incident.” the surgeon said.
“Yes, that would be fine!” Alban replied.
“Here is the thread, and the needles are over there . . . yes, there you go.”
“Thank you for the use of your supplies.”
“Do not mention it.” said the surgeon, and he left Alban to the job.
“Too late! I already have mentioned it.” Alban joked.
The surgeon turned back only long enough to give him the look of a man that was definitely not amused and continued his walk away from the two friends.
When he was out of earshot, ex-Alban began, “Ryan, I understand that you are wounded, but you need to take care how you address the Princes, and how you mingle Deity into your rants! I shall support neither!”
“I was merely referring to the fact that she is not such a saint, as she let on, but has been schooled in the arts of war!”
“War is not necessarily contrary to God’s will. In fact, it is in His very nature to fight evil and do away with such things. If it were not so, then Darvania should have wiped us all from the face of the earth, these past years. You, of all people, know that they are intent on such things. They have even gone as far as sacrificing women and children to a ‘god that never was’, not out of any belief — even in the malignant one, mind you, just as a great show of mockery on those that fear God.”
“Not all of us have troubles with the Darvanian Empire.” Ryan returned.
“No, just all who will not forsake our beliefs!”
“They haven’t bothered me any. I just keep to myself . . .” Ryan stopped as the unexpected plunge of the needle through the skin on his side caught him off guard.
“And supply them with slaves for their mines so that they can glut themselves upon the labors of others and use that treasure to enslave more peoples and force them to give up worship of God, as though it were an evil thing. Others are bought for a price, promised goods in exchange for compliance. And all this they do, saying that it is in the name of freedom and that they who were captured are no longer bound down by the old traditions of the world.”
Ryan said, “Yes, I have heard their talk. Some of it makes sense.”
“If it makes such sense, then why are you running yourself ragged going back and forth through a desert fraught with peril and thieves? I will tell you why. In this life there is good and there is evil. You are either on the side of the one or you find yourself aligned with the other. You know about God. Were it not so, you could not have mentioned the translation of the ancient prophets — those taken up by God unto himself because of their righteousness. However, you are not quite ready to join the God-fearing. You find yourself in a spiritual desert as well, going back and forth between the empires of good and evil, watering up here and there. Again, I will tell you as to why. Somewhere along the line of your lifetime, you have let someone or something convince you that you do neither belong to us, nor to God. Usually, it is through one or both of two basic lies.
“The first is that you can always turn and worship God, and all will be alright. How many of us are caught in a life or death situation and begin to pray that if God just were to let us out of this somehow, then we will serve Him all the days of our lives, only to say, ‘never mind’ when something happened to pull us out of that situation?
“The second lie is that God just does not love you that much or He hates you. He gives to others more abundantly and you never get your fair share. That is due to the misunderstanding or, in some cases, the misrepresentation of the eternal truth that blessings from God are brought about by obedience to his laws, which are merely eternal laws that He has passed on to us — not some hoop to jump through just because He wants to see us squirm. His commands are merely an i
nvitation to receive all of the blessings that He can give us and avoid receiving eternal damnation and the woe which accompanies it. It may be true that others who are wicked receive great riches at times, the empire mentioned before is a prime example of that; such riches did most likely not come from God and, if you think about it, you will see how it can quickly become a curse!”
“But there is the old saying, ‘seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you.’ So, is it not God that has given them that . . . stuff?” Ryan asked, half-jeering.
“It is not a saying; it is scripture. What the scripture means is that if you seek the kingdom of God and his righteousness first, then He will bless you. It certainly does not mean that if someone has great riches, they must by default be righteous. There is an old adage (not scripture) that states, ‘Rich men may live comfortably, but they do not have God’s comfort.’ It speaks to the fact that evil men are never happy. God does give some men riches, through his blessing, but He expects those men to serve Him with those treasures, whether those treasures be spiritual or monetary.”
“SO!” began Ryan, as another stab of the needle found its way, this time into his shoulder. “Now you are talking about responsibility! I am responsible to myself to carve out a living as best I can!”
“You are responsible for yourself, indeed! You cannot say, when you are brought to the pleasing bar of God that you needed more money than that which you had, so you sold your brother and your sister into slavery and think that the Father of all creation will justify you in that which you did to his children, saying, ‘Oh! Well, if you needed money, then it is fine!’ He speaks plainly enough that if you do not understand Him, it is because of pride.”
“Well, what about you and Joan?”
“You mean Princess Freya.”
“Yes. Freida . . . what? Really?”
“It is pronounced ‘Fráy- a’, and do not act so surprised! I know that you knew who she was, Ryan.”
“Well, excuse the giddy giggle out of me! We are not all accomplished linguists like you!”
“Ryan, you must be somewhat of a linguist, or you could not do trade with all of the peoples with whom you trade!”
“Anyway, I knew that she was royalty, but not her name. That is a lovely name for a lovely wen . . . woman.”
“Yes, it means . . .”
“Anyway, what about you two?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, here you are, both of you in love, neither knowing about the royalty bit, and you fall madly in love.”
Alban protested, “You should not do that to yourself, Ryan!”
“Here you are, in the truest of love, and when you wake up from your dream, as it were, you are no longer able to continue, because of tradition, the very thing that you were saying blesses the lives of those who fear God. How do you account for that?”
“Quite easily, actually. Have you ever built a home?”
“Yes, Alban, I have one just outside of the Goff’s land.”
“Did you build it on a foundation?”
“You are going to talk to me about building upon a rock, am I right, that first one must be built on the Gospel Rock by keeping the commandments?”
“I was going to start there, but . . .”
“You two keep the commandments, from what I can tell. Isn’t that enough?”
“When you built your house, as far as I can gather from what you have said, it was on a rock, right?”
“Yes. Well, stone cemented together to form the foundation and the floors, but yes.”
“Did you then proceed to grab any size and shape of timber, simply because you liked the shape and texture, and just nail the stuff together?”
“No. It would be a shambles of a heap that would not keep out the cold and rain.”
“A marriage is the exact same way. You may start out with a good, strong foundation, but if you do not use the right tools for the job, and fit the timbers as perfectly as possible, you will have more than rain come to join you for supper. Each board must be sawed and planed and sanded, refining the lumber with more and more fine instruments. It is a matter of fitment, rather than mere beginnings. Though, I do feel that if I were to do such a thing as to marry Joan, I would not be keeping the commandments.”
“But those are the traditions of men, the arranged marriages!”
“Fine! Where would we have lived? Darvania? No, my friend, I could never do that. Should we ever be found out, it could mean wars among our respective peoples or with Darvania, and probably between them all. We may end up fighting it out with Darvania as it is.”
“Oh, I had not thought of that! Then, why would God place her in your path if it were not meant to be?”
“I apologize beforehand, but why did he place her in your path? Look! Our perfectly loving Heavenly Father knows why we do things long before we do them. It is for us to obey his word and only then learn as to why! There’s a little thing called faith that must be applied here, my friend. He can only offer us the opportunities to learn. It is up to us to determine, by humbly submitting ourselves to his will and accepting it with grateful praise, whether or not we will learn from our mistakes. The question then, rather than ‘What God is doing for me right now?’ becomes, ‘What can I do to serve my God, right now and forever?’ Can you not see how much more good Freya can do as a leader than as the wife of an ex-slave?”
“That does not even bother you, the whole ‘bow down and grovel’ bit?”
“I must admit that I am upset, at times, as to not getting what I want in one form or another, but that is only when I do not have the Lord’s objective in mind. When you think about it in any depth, when such is the case, I really do not have my own best interest in mind, either. For, if a perfectly loving Father that is omniscient, omnipotent, and omnibenevolent wants something different for me or someone around me, and I go against his will, I am only doing harm, again, to myself or my fellow man. How, then, can I stand?”
“So, you are forced to do what He wants you to do, or you are damned? And that’s perfect love?”
“When has He ever forced you to obey his commandments? Had He done so, you would be walking more straightly before Him than any arrow flies! God’s laws are eternal. He knows them and obeys them; that is what makes Him God. He invites his children to be one with Him and grow and develop, at the same time that He allows them the agency to turn and do evil. God knew the full potential that we would reach before He sent us here to earth, or He would not be omniscient. We are here to show and learn for ourselves who we are and what we will become and let justice and mercy take their course according to our decisions.”
“So, why does He not just assign us a kingdom, heaven or hell and have done with it?” Ryan quizzed in earnest.
Alban looked at his friend in genuine curiosity and said, “You, yourself, have doubted the whole concept as we have spoken here and now. If you were merely assigned a heavenly realm right now, based on your potential, others would claim that it were not fair. Should you be given to hell on the same premise, you would think the same. You have not yet reached your full potential.”
“Alban, I have always misunderstood those concepts. It hampered me from joining up with God — doing his work, so to speak. This changes things. As I said, I thought that God was merely ordering people around, like some aloof king that made his subjects obey his bidding. I am glad to have had this talk.”
“I hate to break it to you, Ryan, but the talking is not over.”
“What do you mean?”
“When you have time alone, you need to talk to the Lord and ask Him forgiveness for judging Him harshly, and ask Him to help you back into the path of righteousness. Do not worry. He will welcome you back. No matter what you have done in your lifetime, He always will help you to return to him, though the path may be longer.”
“Why is it that I have heard that
before, but either did not understand or believe?”
“All I know about that is that I know it to be true, it is not an obscure thing that I have heard someone say from time to time. I have worked hard for that belief and it is because of the same that the Spirit can and will teach you the truthfulness of these things. That is its job. When we feel love, patience, a burning in our chest like a spiritual fire, anything of that nature, we can be sure that is the Spirit of God testifying of the truthfulness of that which we are hearing. If we do not feel these things but feel doubt, fear, hatred, and the like, it is not of God.”
“And, here I was, thinking that I had freed you!” Ryan said, tearing up. “I did not see that one coming!”
“I just did what I am telling you to do. I did what the lord wanted me to do. I felt those feelings in my heart that I spoke of, and the Spirit told me what to say as I opened my mouth. I was not sure if it would harm my relationship with you or not, I just knew that it was right to do what I knew to be the Lord’s will, and you have received it up to this point. You must continue, as I have said, by asking for forgiveness and following the Spirit that will come to you.”
“How will I know what to say?”
“Just start by calling on God. Say, ‘My Heavenly Father’, for instance. Then, thank Him for the things which He has given you — your life, the opportunity that you have had to hear His word, for prayer itself, etc. Next, ask Him for the things that you need, then close in the name of Jesus Christ. The real key to being efficient in prayer, though, is to ask God in your heart that you be guided as to what you should say every time that you pray. As you seek for the Spirit to guide your prayers, you will learn more about God (and yourself, for that matter) by asking a perfect being that also knows and loves you perfectly, what it is that you should pray. Your very prayers become more and more perfected as you remember to do this.”
“I already trust you with my life; now, I’ll trust you with my soul!” Ryan assured him.
“Trust only the Lord and his Spirit in your spiritual welfare. I have seen a great number of men fall by trusting in a man that later disappointed them. Trust in God.”
“The fact that you advise me to do so makes me trust you even more! Though, I do understand what you are saying. I, too, have been disappointed by several people in the past. Perhaps I had used it as an excuse to do my own things . . . whatever I wanted. In the end, I guess that no one can excuse himself for the things that he has done by citing things done by others.”
“Well said, Ryan!” his companion said as he tied off the last stitch.
Just then, a messenger dressed in green rode up, got off of his horse, saluted as is done in Badgerden’s Holde, and said, “Sire, we must be getting you to the meeting!”
“First, I am shot at, and then I am addressed as royalty! Things are just one big bend in the river after another!” Ryan said, as he stood and tried moving his arm about, checking the movement of his shoulder.
“He speaks to me, Ryan.”
Ryan’s face turned bright red as a surprised, “Oh!” escaped his lips.
“You stay here and rest. I will go and see to these matters at hand.”
“Well, thank you, Alban, for stitching me up! You have done a much finer job than Decebal’s surgeon ever did.”
“You are welcome.” the temporary doctor replied, as he walked to his horse and climbed upon its back. “But my name is not Alban,” he added, as Ryan’s face got even redder. Then, just before he rode off, he turned to the messenger and said, “There is hardly any food in any of these companies. That great tri-gore over there may not look to be the most gorgeous creature, but it makes a gorgeous meal! Have the men from all parties begin the work of carving it up. Don’t let Garrve touch it, by the way. Have the skull left intact as best possible, and cape it out well. I shall require its preservation. Use the brains to cure the hide.”
“What about water? There is very little.”
“We will talk that over at the meeting,” Alban said, before riding off to the council.
“It is Nordholst’s fault that we called him Alban!” Ryan explained.
“I really do not care!” said the messenger.
“But really!”
“Save it for your trial!” the messenger spouted back.
“I suppose that it was I that called him Alban first.” Ryan realized aloud.
He sat there wondering what had just happened to him. He felt . . . so differently than just minutes before. A fire began to burn within him that he had felt before, but never had it burned as brightly as it did now. Ryan felt almost as though he should not move at all; he did not want that fire to go out.
Chapter Eight - Carving the Beast