Beyond the Fire

by Dewayne A Jackson

  The family had eaten an early dinner after the “boys” had come in from moving snow. The women were finished cleaning in the kitchen, and everyone was gathering in the parlor. Bill grinned as Robbie climbed into his lap. He looked at Destry and mouthed the words, “Thank you!” She blushed and turned to the embroidery in her lap.

  Bill surveyed the room. Thomas was stretched out near the fireplace, his three boys curled up near him. Kelsey sat on a straight-backed chair at the edge of the circle, her fingers busy with darning. James and his wife Doreen sat in the circle near Philip and Destry. Ned was in his usual easy chair with Maria curled up on his lap. Her face was still aglow from the praise the family had bestowed on her good news. Bill had a grandson on each knee, and his only granddaughter was perched on his lap as well. The two oldest grandsons lay on the rugs near Grandpa’s feet.

  “The Lord has blessed me richly,” he said, looking at Mary and then his family. “I am so thankful for each one of you.”

  Ned yawned and shifted in his chair. “Ned,” Maria began to scold. “Daddy’s going to finish his story.”

  “Don’t bother him, Sis,” Philip said from across the room. “He moved more snow this morning than the rest of us put together.”

  “That’s right,” Thomas added, “and I’m shot.”

  Maria smiled and nestled tighter against her man. She was glad he was gaining her family’s acceptance.

  “None of you would be here if the Lord had not reunited your grandmother and me,” Bill said. Mary glanced up and saw Bill smiling at her. She smiled and returned to her knitting. After all, now she had someone new to knit for.

  “But how did that happen, Grandpa?” a little voice asked.

  “Should I start with Grandma’s story, or should I pick up where I left off with Thomas Stafford?” Bill asked.

  Answers swirled around the room, but in the end, Mary herself suggested they finish Thomas Stafford’s story.

  “All right,” Bill said doubtfully, “but it’s a long story.”

  CHAPTER 41

  Reunion

  Melzar was buried quietly beside Maria. Few mourned his passing, but to Thomas, Stanley, and Mandra he had become a brother and almost a father figure. Stories of the rebellion continued to filter in, and it seemed that Melzar had grown quite strong in his faith and bold enough to face his own demise with great courage.

  Thomas and some of his companions were standing near Melzar’s grave when a messenger rode into the city with great haste. He inquired where Thomas was, and upon hearing, he rode to the cemetery.

  “My lord,” he called, sliding from his mount. “The army of Amity is marching on Endor. The enemy is in disarray! Watchers are taking prisoners beyond count, and many of the enemy have thrown down their weapons and are fleeing into the mountains!”

  The small company was stunned by the good news. Thomas immediately dropped to his knees and prayed, “Thank You, Lord! May this war soon be over and may Your peace settle over Bashan forever!”

  “Amen,” echoed his friends.

  The men under John Stafford had been on the offensive for weeks, but after the battle at Jeshemon, they no longer simply went through the motions. This war had become a fight they intended to win. Every time they encountered Jabin’s forces, the men of Amity attacked with a ferocity that even began to worry John.

  The enemy noticed the change as well. The soldiers of Amity were gentlemen no longer. But Jabin’s forces remained tough, until one day everything changed. The men of Amity awoke to find less resistance than they had the day before. Jabin’s men seemed to have lost their will to fight. Some threw down their weapons and surrendered; others disappeared into the mountains.

  John was encouraged but not overconfident. He had been tricked by the enemy before. Was this another ruse?

  The very next day their scouts saw men of a strange garb attacking the enemy flanks. No one knew who the newcomers were or why they were attacking Jabin’s forces, but Stafford and his army were thankful. As darkness fell that night, several thousand of Jabin’s men still stood between the army of Amity and their unknown allies.

  That night John could not sleep. Hundreds of questions nagged him for answers. Even if he beat Jabin’s forces in pitched battle, how would he gain entrance to Endor? The fortress was impregnable. And even if he should gain entrance, how would he find Thomas? Was Thomas even alive? Even if John won this war, what would he have gained?

  The camp was dark and quiet. No fires dotted the countryside. John quietly rolled his blanket and stuffed it into his backpack. One of his new bodyguards stirred.

  “Did you need something, sir?” he whispered.

  John waved off his new man. “Catch a few more winks,” he replied. Seeking a place to be alone, John almost laughed. Did he need something? Yes, he needed something. He needed to lay down his sword and pick up a plow. He needed to see every spear turned into a pruning hook. John sighed. Yes, he needed a great deal, but no man on earth could give him what he needed. He looked to heaven and whispered, “In Your time, Lord. You make all things beautiful in Your time.”

  The camp began to stir before the first rays of dawn colored the sky, and when birds should have voiced their morning songs, trumpets called men to arms. Company by company, the army of Amity assembled to face the foe, but the foe was nearly gone. Instead of the thousands they had expected to meet in battle, there were only a few hundred, and they were not armed. Each one held a white rag in the air.

  The men of Amity did not raise a shout of victory, though, for behind what remained of Jabin’s army were gray riders, unrecognizable in their gear, riding toward Jabin’s surrendering troops.

  John summoned his commanders, and they rode forward for parley. The gray riders continued to bear down on Jabin’s men. Finally both parties halted some distance from the surrendering men.

  One gray rider stood in his stirrups and shouted to the men of Amity. “Is John Stafford still the master of Amity?”

  John looked at his commanders. Is this some kind of trick? he wondered.

  “He is!” John shouted back. “Who wants to know?”

  “The Master of Endor!” was the reply.

  John groaned inwardly. “Who speaks for Jabin?” he called.

  “I speak for myself!” the gray rider said, moving into Jabin’s men. He was flanked closely by two fell soldiers, also garbed in gray.

  “It might be a trap,” one of John’s commanders whispered. “Go no farther!”

  “Identify yourself!” John demanded.

  “I am he who was lost but now am found, thought dead but am now alive! I lay claim to the throne of Amity and to your heart as well,” the hooded warrior said.

  A dread fear fell over Jabin’s men. They fell prostrate in the road, nearly forgotten.

  John began to bristle. “Don’t use riddles with me,” he shouted. “State your claim, and be quick about it.”

  “The master of Amity used to have a quick wit and a deep love for riddles,” the man said. “Is he a changed man from when I last met him?”

  John was troubled. The gray rider’s voice was familiar, and if he were still home, that voice would belong to Thomas. But he was nowhere near home, and no one knew where Thomas was, or even if he was alive. He looked to his officers for help, but they too were perplexed. Something about this confrontation excited yet terrified John. “When have we met, sir, and how can you claim the throne of Amity or my heart?”

  “You loved me once. Do you still?” The gray rider suddenly tossed his gray hood aside.

  Thomas sat smiling less than ten paces from his father. John was speechless, and the world seemed to stop turning. Seagood and Mathias also threw back their gray hoods and grinned. The very men John had feared to be dead were right there in front of him.

  “Thomas?” John’s voice cracked with emotion. “Is it really you?”

>   “I’ve changed, Father,” Thomas said, laughing, “but I’m not a ghost. You, on the other hand, are as pale as a sheet.”

  John’s heart was pounding, and he felt dizzy. Awkwardly he slipped from his saddle and stumbled forward to greet his son. In the midst of Jabin’s surrendering men, Thomas leaped from his saddle and raced to hug his father.

  CHAPTER 42

  Unsettling News

  The days that followed were filled with complex and tedious matters concerning an even distribution of food and supplies, equipping refugees to travel home, and the repatriation of land. Leaders great and small came to bring organization during the aftermath of war. Endor became a vast refugee camp and information center. People from many nations and tongues sought to find loved ones within its walls.

  Men and women were interviewed, families were reunited, and old property lines restored. Thousands of people began the difficult process of starting their lives over again.

  John and Thomas remained busy at Endor, but as days turned into weeks, they grew restless and longed for home.

  Gaff had recently come, and thousands of additional soldiers camped in the plains below the city.

  As they often did on clear nights when stars filled the sky and campfires dotted the valley below, John and Thomas climbed the battlements of Endor to find solitude and to quietly fellowship together.

  Tonight they listened to men singing in the camp. “I’m glad to hear our men singing again,” John confessed. “I was afraid they had become too hard to enjoy life.”

  “The music makes me homesick,” Thomas replied.

  Thomas and his father failed to see a solitary courier emerge from the southern forest. He was stopped by sentries but was allowed to pass on his way to find Gaff.

  “Thomas, tell me about Lady Helsa,” John said, leaning against the balustrade and studying his son.

  “She is the most gentle and loving person I have ever met, Father. You already know she is Seagood’s little sister, so that tells you a great deal about her character.”

  John laughed out loud. He could remember many things about Seagood that were precocious if not obnoxious. He wondered if little sister might have some of the same nature. Before he could pursue this thought with Thomas, they heard footsteps on the catwalks. In another moment, they saw Gaff scrambling up the ladder to their tower.

  “Some watchmen you two make,” he puffed as he crawled through the opening. “We could be under attack, and you two would never know it.”

  “We finally found one quiet place in the city, and you have to disturb us,” John said, smiling. But he knew something was wrong, or Gaff would never have bothered them.

  “We just received a messenger,” Gaff said seriously.

  “Who sent this messenger?” John asked.

  “He was one of my men, John,” Gaff said. “Amity is at war!”

  An army in the field can be mobilized very quickly, and the next morning, camps were being broken and supplies loaded for the long march home. Most of the army of Amity, and a large portion of Gaff’s men from Emancipation, would begin the march by midday. Seagood would remain at Endor, presiding over refugees and the aftermath of Jabin’s tyranny. Several thousand men would remain in Endor to assist him in his labors.

  Shortly after noon, the combined armies of Amity and Emancipation began their long march south. Fire had devoured much of the country through which they passed, but these soldiers had become familiar with short rations and hard treks. They hoped to reach Deorn within two days, and after Deorn there still remained several days of hard travel before reaching Amity. Thomas rode between Gaff and his father, hoping to catch any new information that might trickle in from home.

  It seemed that Devia had proclaimed himself king and controlled most of Amity, while Philip Stafford still held sway over Stonewall, Waterfront, and Sebring. Master Devia had marshaled a sizable army, while many men under Philip’s command were either too old or too frightened to be of much value. No one knew if Philip could survive until they returned.

  It seemed impossible, but in the months they had been away, Master Devia had built a wall sealing Amity from the rest of the world, and they were on the outside.

  Bill had spent weeks in Deorn, recovering from his injuries. He grew restless as he healed, but when he heard that John Stafford and the army were headed home, he could barely contain his excitement. Most of his companions at Deorn were soldiers from Amity, and every conversation centered on their desire to finally get home.

  The thought of seeing John Stafford again nearly drove Bill crazy. He paced from the entrance to Deorn, through the courtyard, and back to the entrance, over and over—only to be told by a returning sentry that Stafford and the army would not arrive until the following day.

  Bill slept well that night and was up early, but the day passed slowly. Every few minutes, he paced through the gates and out into the countryside. As the afternoon wore on, his journeys grew longer, and he ranged farther outside the fortress, so anxious was he to see John Stafford and the men of Amity again.

  As the sun sank low on the horizon, there came a cry from the tower. “Watch the wall, mates! There’s an army on the move!”

  Bill hurried down the road where he could see a cloud of dust swirling above long columns of men as they marched toward Deorn. His heart leaped at the sight but then sank just as quickly. He suddenly realized how foolish he must look. He was several furlongs from the city and all alone, like a faithful dog waiting for his master’s return. The men of Amity were too close now for him to run and hide. He tried to stand a little straighter, but a burning sense of humiliation coursed through his veins.

  Bill could see five horsemen leading the dusty columns of men. He recognized the standards of Amity and Emancipation, but the riders were too far away to recognize. Suddenly two riders broke formation and headed his way. Supposing them to be guards sent to check him out, Bill stood at attention and waited patiently. He was alone and unarmed, but he was unafraid. These were his comrades-in-arms.

  Bill was surprised when a familiar voice shouted, “Bill! Bill Cotton! It’s good to see you.” John reigned in his horse, dismounted, and covered the few steps between himself and Bill in a heartbeat. Wrapping strong arms around Bill, John gave him a powerful hug.

  Flustered, Bill tried to speak. “Sir!”

  “Forget the formalities, Bill!” John roared. “I want you to meet my son Thomas.”

  Thomas laughed and jumped down from his mount to shake Bill’s hand vigorously. “It is good to meet the man who saved my father’s life time after time.”

  “What?” Bill began to ask, but Thomas interrupted again.

  “Dad has told of your adventures together. In fact, you are nearly all he has spoken of on our march.”

  “The stories were mostly true,” John laughed. “But seriously, Bill, you were one of my closest friends on our march together. I was devastated when I thought I had lost you on the Jeshemon Ridge. You cannot believe how good it is to see you up and well.”

  Bill nodded, not sure he could trust his voice.

  “Come,” John motioned. “Let us walk to the fortress. It’s not far.”

  Walking seemed to stabilize Bill’s emotions, and soon he trusted his voice enough to address Thomas. “I feel I should know you, sir. Your father spoke of little besides you on our march north. I’m so glad to see you alive and well.”

  “God answered many prayers, though some good friends lost their lives to bring about my deliverance,” Thomas said soberly. “But I am glad to be here.”

  The three men slowly made their way toward the fortress of Deorn.

  Later that evening, Gaff called a meeting that John could not avoid, so Thomas decided to stay with Bill. The two men chatted as if they had known each other all their lives. Thomas told of his adventures, and Bill spoke of Mary and home. After an hour of chitchat
, Bill finally managed to ask what he had wanted to ask since meeting Thomas on the road.

  “Sir,” Bill began, “may I be so bold as to ask you something?”

  “Of course, Bill! Ask away.”

  “I’m not sure what I see in your eyes, sir.”

  “My eyes?” Thomas laughed. “Do I have something in them?”

  “I’m sorry,” Bill stammered. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

  “No, it is fine to ask, but what do you see?” Thomas laughed.

  “I see life and death, pain and suffering, and still I see joy,” Bill responded. “I do not understand what I see.”

  Thomas grew very quiet. “Well said, Bill Cotton! You do indeed see all those things, for I have seen a great wonder.” Thomas was silent for a moment, and then he continued. “I’ve seen Him, Bill! I’ve seen Jesus!”

  Gaff’s meeting had informed John and the officers of the latest information he’d received about the status of Amity. “We must be ready to march at dawn,” Gaff concluded.

  John waited until the others had left the room. “I’m going to take Bill Cotton with me tomorrow,” he said.

  “John!” Gaff exploded. “You can’t be serious! We have several hard days’ march, and the men must be ready to fight when they reach the wall Devia has built. If you take wounded men with us, they will only slow us down!”

  “Gaff, Bill Cotton was not just my bodyguard; he is my friend. We’ll find a horse for him to ride, but I won’t leave him behind.”

  “Very well,” Gaff grumped. “Do things your own way.” Gaff scowled and shook his head. Stafford rarely did things the way Gaff thought they ought to be done, but he had to admit, things usually turned out pretty good for him anyway.

  It was midmorning three days later when the army of Amity emerged from the wooded mountain slopes into the clearing west of Green Meadow. Gaff and John rode ahead, flanked by their standard bearers. Thomas and Bill followed closely in their wake. All was quiet except for an occasional snort from a horse or the snap of banners in the cool mountain breeze. Though they had been warned of what was ahead, a chill swept over the gathering. Running the entire breadth of the pass, a dark wall loomed ominously across the charred earth of what once had been Green Meadow.