“Maybe if I cut through I can catch up with the others,” he muttered. Stepping off the path, he immediately encountered brambles with long thorns. They clung to his face, arms, and clothing. “Ouch! Hey! Slow down up there!”
The others stopped at the sound of his voice. Darren and Clyde returned to find Rudy still struggling to free himself.
“What kind of goose chase is that boy taking us on?” Rudy fumed when Darren was close enough to hear him.
“It’s a rough path, mate, but we are going north, and we should hit the river soon.”
Rudy sputtered. “If I could get my hands on that boy right now …”
“Easy, mate. Let me help you.” Strong hands grappled with the resilient thorns.
“I don’t think he knows where he’s going!” Rudy growled as they finally freed his ponderous bulk from the briars.
“Well, he found this path,” Darren said.
Rudy considered this. They had fought their way through thick underbrush until they had finally fallen into a stream. Tired, chilled, and soaked to the bone, they had followed the stream until Wart had whispered, “I think this is it.”
At that point the group had been grateful just to get out of the water. They had hoped the path would prove easier passage than the stream, but in this they were all sorely disappointed. Rough, twisting, and covered with loose stones, the path tried everyone’s patience. It did, however, reach the summit of a mountain ridge, whereupon it plummeted again into the dense foliage on the other side.
Rudy was still muttering murderous threats under his breath.
“The path is getting better, mate,” Darren encouraged. “Come on.” He nudged the heavy man and whispered, “You don’t think Seagood could be misguided by a youth, now, do you?” Together they scrambled to join the others.
The stars were beginning to dim and the sky to grow light when at last they stood on a hill overlooking the Great River. Exhausted, they stared in silence at the dark, turbulent ribbon of water churning its way to the sea.
“Good show, mate!” Darren was the first to fully comprehend the significance of their night’s journey. “You saved us a lot of time, lad!”
Everyone began to see the truth of Darren’s words. One after another, they slapped Wart on the back, congratulating him for a good night’s labor.
Even Rudy felt a stirring of gratitude in his heart. Laying his big hand on Wart’s shoulder, his voice boomed. “Wart, I owe you an apology. I said some rum things about you tonight. But here we are! Do you forgive me for not trusting you earlier?”
“Sure, Rudy,” said Wart’s small, wavering voice. “But you might be too early with your apology. I’m not sure where we are!”
CHAPTER 20
Perilous Choices
Long after Seagood and his men had left to find Thomas, John sat alone beside James’s grave. The agony of his loss consumed his strength and courage. With immense effort, he tore his thoughts away from James and Thomas and considered the men and women of Amity. I must move on, he thought. Others need me, though I feel I have little to offer. “Lord,” he whispered, “I need your strength, for I have none of my own!”
John Stafford finally arose and walked slowly to the new command center where his cot was waiting. Making a pillow of his cloak, he lay down and fell asleep instantly.
Suddenly someone was shaking him awake. “Gaff to see you, sir!”
John stretched and slowly sat up, running fingers through his tousled hair and wiping sleep from his eyes.
A large man strode rapidly toward him. “John, what are we going to do with the casualties?”
“I say, Gaff. You have an abrupt way of starting a man’s day.”
Gaff studied John’s face and eyes and then softened his approach. “I’m sorry, John. Didn’t you sleep well?”
“Yes and no. I have found some comfort in the Lord.”
“Good. I’m glad for you.”
“Gaff, I need to ask you a question before we discuss our plans. Is that all right?”
“Certainly, John. Fire away.”
“Why did you let Mathias leave with the others for Endor? We don’t even know Thomas is there. Do you realize you may never see your son again?”
Gaff became quiet, and the two fathers studied each other. “John, of a truth, I wouldn’t have let him go. But to Mathias, life without Thomas would be no life at all. I never knew anyone so devoted to another. He wanted to go because he loved your son. I think that is true of all who set their feet upon that path.”
John struggled to control his emotions. “But you may lose your son.”
“I may,” Gaff said gravely. “But I would not restrain the path of love. Mathias was driven to go, he could do nothing else.”
“But it’s so painful to lose a son.”
Gaff offered John a hand and pulled him to his feet. Leaning heavily upon each other, the two men embraced for a long time.
Gaff, Stafford, and other high-level commanders decided that the wounded could not remain so close to Devia’s fortress. While it seemed that they should have received more help close to Green Meadow, the fortress had not yet opened or offered any assistance to the men of Amity or Emancipation.
John Stafford walked slowly from the command center toward the infirmary to inform Jennifer of their decision to move the wounded. After climbing the steep hill, John asked the sentry if Miss Jennifer was available and turned to wait.
Scanning the countryside, John realized Devia’s fortress dominated the scenery. The structure seemed to exude Devia’s presence far and wide. I wonder what your next move will be, he thought.
Jennifer emerged from the tent, rumpled and weary, to find John Stafford waiting.
“Are you all right, young lady?” he asked.
She smiled a tired smile and nodded. “It was a long night, and several of my patients did not survive.”
“I’m sorry,” John said, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You must not feel you have failed in your labors. The Lord is the author and sustainer of life. He will eventually draw all men unto Himself, whether to judgment or blessing. But it is the Lord who draws them. So take heart. Life and death are in His hands, not yours.”
Hearing those words, Jennifer felt a great burden lift from her shoulders. During the night, there had been times she’d thought she could endure no more suffering. She had watched strong men pass with little more than a whimper. She had done all she could for the men, but still she couldn’t bear to let them go. However, John’s words seemed to shift her burden to the broad shoulders of a loving Lord who could bear such trials. As peace settled her soul, she smiled at John and said, “Thank you for those words.”
John merely nodded. “But now the reason I am here. You will need to leave this place.”
“What?” Jennifer faltered. “Why?”
“I’ve set aside a number of men to see you safely to your grandmother’s farm.”
Jennifer gestured feebly toward the tent. “What about these men?” Despair filled her heart. “What about my family?” She glanced back at Devia’s fortress.
She tried to turn away, but John grabbed her shoulders and held her firmly. “The men,” he said softly, “will go with you.”
Alarmed, Jennifer responded, “But, sir, some are so weak, the move may kill them.”
“Gaff has provided wagons for the journey. Still, some may not survive.”
“Then why move?” Jennifer pleaded. “Shouldn’t we stay near the fortress for protection and provision?”
“May I remind you how much help you received from them in your time of need?”
Her countenance fell, but still she struggled. “I understand, but what about my family?”
“How many are they?”
“I left my father, mother, and a younger sister here. I also have an older brother who
has been away for some time.”
“So, if your family is inside the fortress, your father has your mother and sister to care for?”
“Yes.”
“What if things are not good inside Devia’s fortress? Would your father want you there under his care or in the distant abode of your grandmother?”
Jennifer shifted uneasily. She remembered her father’s words: Child, if anything should happen to us here at Green Meadow, flee to your grandmother’s or seek help from the garrison. They are honest men. They will help you.
John spoke before Jennifer could respond. “Child, I won’t force you to go. I simply ask that you trust me to do what I think is best for you. I will, however, let you choose.”
Jennifer felt humble before this powerful man. She knew men would forfeit their lives at his command, yet she was free to accept or reject his will. How could she refuse? Struggling to find her voice, she said, “I’ll go.”
“Someone needs to care for these wounded. Will you do that for me?” John asked.
“Yes.”
“Even if it means you leave your family?”
“Yes,” she whispered. Suddenly, joy filled her soul as she relinquished her will for that of the master. She looked into John Stafford’s eyes and was startled to see tears.
“Thank you,” he said, wiping his eyes.
She was astonished that her simple obedience could move the master to tears. Leaping into his open arms, she was astonished at the emotions that flooded her soul.
He held her tight and then withdrew to study her face. “Are you very sure?”
“With all my heart.”
Men carried the wounded to wagons, and Jennifer packed every supply she could find around them. The morning was filled with activity, but shortly before noon, everything was packed.
Jennifer settled upon a wagon seat, and they were off. Her heart soared. She had so much to think about and so much to do. There would be shelters to build, water to carry, and a hospital to set up. She was grateful for the extra men and wagons that had been donated to the cause.
Wart stood near the bank of the Great River. The breeze was cool, and he felt chilled to the bone. “I can hear the rapids upstream,” he said, “but there should have been a sandbar here.”
“Rivers are always changing, Wart,” Rudy said cheerfully. “Don’t worry. Seagood has seen something the rest of us have not. He’ll find a way to ford this river!”
The others voiced their confidence, but Wart hung back. The fast-flowing water seemed deep and foreboding. I’d better man up, he thought, or the others will know they should have chosen someone else.
Wart watched while Seagood poked a long branch into the river in various places. Finally Seagood seemed satisfied, and he had all the men tie themselves together with strong rope before they waded into the water.
Seagood led the way, followed by Rudy. When Rudy was about knee deep in water, he turned and shouted to Wart, “Watch for washouts. They could be deep!”
Wart used his feet to feel the river bed before him. Darren, Clyde, and Mathias followed suit. The current was stronger than it appeared, and Wart could feel the rope tighten about his waist as the river’s flow tried to set him adrift. He could barely set one foot in front of the other.
Twice Seagood disappeared from sight, but Rudy, with his great strength, was able to pull him back to the surface. Without hesitation, Seagood would strike out again in a slightly different direction and lead on.
They were little more than halfway across when they heard a cry from the back. Clyde and his mount had strayed only slightly from Seagood’s path, but both had found deep water. When Darren turned to assist his comrade, his own horse floundered into a hole.
Everything happened so fast. Clyde’s horse reappeared, thrashing water to foam, and the cries of the men were drowned out by the screams of the floundering animals.
“Wart, hold my horse!” Rudy shouted as he surged back toward the commotion, but Rudy’s change of course pulled Seagood backward and under the water.
Darren pulled hard on the rope that tethered Clyde to him. “Watch the horses!” Mathias screamed. Just then, Darren’s horse found solid footing, and he lurched from the hole into which he had fallen. His movement knocked Darren off balance, and he fell into the churning current. His body was sucked beneath the surface immediately.
Mathias grabbed for Darren’s leg, but the rope connecting them grew taut and snapped. Darren was adrift, but the rope holding him to Clyde pulled him beneath the surface.
“The rope broke!” Mathias shouted. He was frantically trying to calm Darren’s horse and keep his own from bolting.
Wart tried to hold three horses while Clyde’s mount drifted further down the stream.
A man’s head broke the surface of the water some ways downstream. Mathis yelled, “It’s Darren!” Rudy flung a rope his direction, but Darren offered no response. Seagood slashed the rope tethering him to Rudy and swam after the body. Seagood finally grabbed Darren and began pulling him to the opposite shore.
Rudy, taking his cue from Seagood, turned, took charge of two horses from Wart and began to wade across the river.
“What about Clyde?” Wart shouted.
Rudy acted as though he was deaf and kept walking.
Following in Rudy’s wake, Wart felt the water rise to his neck and sweep him off his feet. He clung tightly to his horse, and the rope about his waist grew taut as Rudy and Mathias held his drift in check.
Finally there was solid sand beneath his feet. The shore was near. They all waded into the brush along the shore and stood gasping for breath.
Tying the horses to a low branch, Rudy turned to Wart and said, “Watch these!” Then he and Mathias slashed the rope tying them to Wart and rushed downstream to where Seagood was nearing the shore with Darren in tow.
The two men pulled the body ashore while Seagood struck out into the water again, swimming upstream to where Clyde had fallen from sight. While Mathias and Rudy tried to restore Darren’s breathing, Seagood dived beneath the surface of the river over and over.
Wart felt so helpless watching Seagood dive and Rudy and Mathias labor over Darren. All he could do was talk softly to the frightened horses and watch. When Seagood had stayed under the surface far too long one time, Wart yelled downstream, “Rudy, Seagood isn’t coming up!”
Rudy leaped into the water and swam upstream. Seagood’s haggard face appeared just as Rudy was about to dive beneath the surface to look for him. Grasping his master, Rudy pulled the empty-handed Seagood back to shore.
Everyone sat wrapped in cloaks as their clothes dried near a smokeless fire. Silence loomed ominously between them. They shivered with more than the cold.
Wart glanced first at Seagood and then at Rudy. He felt responsible for both Clyde’s and Darren’s deaths. If he’d just kept his mouth shut, maybe all six members of the group would still be alive. No one spoke to him about his role in the men’s deaths, but he knew he was guilty. He felt so alone. Were they avoiding him on purpose?
Seagood stared blankly at the fire while Mathias sat apart. Rudy watched his master intently, and Wart shivered, feeling miserable.
Suddenly, Seagood began to move his hands.
“Is that what happened?” Rudy asked.
When Seagood nodded, Rudy held up his hand and turned away. Wart watched as tears rolled down the big man’s cheeks.
This is no time to ask questions, Wart thought. They don’t want to talk to me anyway. With that, he curled up near the fire and tried to still the convulsions shaking his body.
Wart woke to see Rudy sitting quietly by the fire. Mathias and Seagood were nowhere to be seen. “Rudy?” he asked hesitantly.
The big man stirred and looked at Wart. “Oh! Hey, did you have a good sleep?” He tried to sound cheerful.
“I guess,” Wart said
, rubbing his eyes. “I didn’t realize I had gone to sleep. Where are the others?”
Rudy grew sober. “They are digging a grave, Wart.”
There was a long, awkward silence before Wart blurted, “Listen, Rudy. I’m sorry I suggested this route. I didn’t know this would happen!”
Rudy looked startled, and then his eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me you think you had something to do with their deaths?”
It was Wart’s turn to be surprised. “I thought you guys were angry with me.”
In an instant, Rudy was at his side. “No. Where did you get such an idea?”
Wart did not answer.
“We all knew the river would be dangerous,” Rudy said, “and many men have drowned trying to cross it. Though we hadn’t yet come to it, there is a road on the east side of the river that leads to Endor, but it leads through territory under Jabin’s control. We wanted to cross the river to travel unnoticed over here. That decision cost two men their lives, not you.”
Wart remembered watching Rudy and Mathias struggle to revive Darren, and Seagood’s unsuccessful attempts to retrieve Clyde from his watery grave. Slowly he began to realize that the others felt equally responsible for their comrades’ deaths.
In an unusual display of affection, Wart gave Rudy a big hug. “Thanks, Rudy. I thought you guys didn’t like me. No one would talk to me.”
The big man returned Wart’s hug. “I’m sorry, Wart. I’m afraid we were too caught up in our own grief to worry about yours.”
In a sudden change of subject, Wart blurted, “Rudy, what did Seagood tell you?”
Rudy stiffened, a painful expression twisting his face. “Clyde died a bad death, boy. Real bad.”
“What happened?”
“I’ve said all I’m going to say.”
That was all Wart would ever know of Clyde’s death. Afraid to ask more about the incident, he changed the subject to a more practical matter. “Is there anything to eat?”
“Leave it to a growing boy.” Rudy smiled. He was more than happy to change the subject.
Wart was dressed, and a young rabbit was roasting over the fire when Seagood and Mathias returned. Everyone seemed more relaxed.
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