My reign will evoke both joy and terror for I shall be the priest of heaven for all men, McCormick thought grandly. He found the staircase and began to climb the steps one by one. “Master of Darkness,” he whispered as he climbed, “you have brought me this far. Do not betray me now. Grant me the desires of my heart, for I have come to do your will.”
Even as he spoke, Jiles McCormick marveled at the strength of the stones beneath his feet. They had been cut precisely and placed together in such a way that they had not even needed mortar to stay in place. McCormick thought Devia’s palace was perfect. It seemed odd that the man would spend so much time and energy building this palace just for Jiles McCormick. He almost laughed at the futility of his mentor.
Each step carried McCormick higher, and an ever-increasing vista met his eyes. Lights burned in the watchtowers at the four corners of the fortress, but the Tower of the Stars stood in total darkness.
McCormick smiled. Darkness was his friend. It protected him and gave him power. It had been a useful servant.
The stairs wound around the outside of the tower, and the higher he climbed, the colder the night air became. Only once did McCormick glance into the courtyard below. He nearly swooned at the height, and he grabbed for the wall.
“Master of Darkness,” he cried, “save me!” Slowly his head cleared, and his wobbling knees became firm. He began to climb once again.
“Yes!” Jiles murmured exultantly as the top came into view. “Always the darkness has been my friend. Tonight it shall become my slave!” A heady sense of power surged through his veins. “I shall plant my feet upon the high places and stand where mortal man cannot go!”
McCormick planted his feet firmly upon one step after another. He was only two steps from the top. “Tomorrow I shall claim the throne and the woman I desire.” He pictured the lovely Katherine Gammel in his mind and cursed Mercinor for his bungling attempts to abduct her or eliminate Philip Stafford.
One thought clouded McCormick’s otherwise perfect night. Why did Katherine only have eyes for Philip Stafford? She had never given Jiles a second glance.
That will change, McCormick thought forcefully. Tomorrow Philip will hang, and Katherine will be mine. Thick clouds hid the light of the stars and cast a shadow across McCormick’s heart. “I tell you, I will have Katherine if I have to bind her and place my boot upon her neck!” he shouted, shaking his fist in the darkness.
Engrossed in his fantasy, Jiles McCormick raised his boot and brought it crashing down upon Katherine Gammel’s neck, but the next-to-the-last step was loose and gave way beneath his foot. For one brief instant, Jiles McCormick felt suspended in space, and then with a scream, he fell.
CHAPTER 58
A New Day
As dawn began to soften the eastern sky and many were trying to ward off the cold, Philip began to pray. “Lord, maker of heaven and earth,” he said, “You raise the lowly and bring low the mighty.”
Peter Sikes stood some distance away, irreverently eyeing Devia’s castle. He glanced at Philip and shook his head. “It’s going to take more than prayer to get in there,” he muttered.
He jumped when a hand fell upon his shoulder. “Do you have any ideas?” Philip asked.
“We’ll need siege works, battering rams, and more men than we can muster, sir,” Peter responded. “Without them, I don’t think we have a chance.”
“Don’t you believe the Lord can hand it over to us, Peter?” Philip asked.
Peter remained silent.
“Do you remember the story of Jericho and how Jehovah destroyed the city walls for the Israelites?” Philip asked.
“Yes, sir,” Peter responded. “But we can’t march around the city.”
“It wasn’t the marching of men or the blowing of trumpets that flattened the walls, Peter. It was the power of the Almighty One. All Joshua and the Israelites had to do was to be faithful and march forward in His strength, not their own. That is all the Lord wants of us. We must march forward, expecting great things from Him.”
Peter wasn’t sure how to respond, so he said, “Yes, sir.”
“Don’t worry, Peter.” Philip slapped him on the shoulder. “Something good is going to happen. Have some men climb the wall. We need to be ready to open the gates when my father returns.”
When Philip was gone, Peter took one last look at Devia’s fortress. “It will take a miracle,” he muttered to himself. “Nothing short of a miracle.” Then he ordered men to climb Amity’s wall and set a watch.
Guards stood at each of the towers in Devia’s fortress. All night they had watched, wondering what the morning would bring.
The city was now quiet, but yesterday, when rumor had spread that Devia was dead, men and women of one accord had attacked the barracks of the hated redcoats. These outsiders had lived royally at the expense of everyone else. They had formed the backbone of Devia’s strength by enforcing every unpopular decree.
At sundown, Green Meadow’s militia held the upper hand, but no one really knew who controlled the city.
With redcoats inside and Philip’s army outside the fortress walls, Commander Barret Blakely watched Philip’s men climb to the balustrade on the border wall that Devia had pushed so hard to build. Sterns, his second in command, stood by his side and asked, “What will you do, sir?”
“I’ve received no orders,” Blakely said.
Sterns was known for speaking his mind. “Sir, we have waited all night for someone to rise to power, but no one has. I think the city is waiting for you to take charge.”
“Me?” Blakely questioned.
“Yes, sir!” Sterns responded. “Men know you to be capable. Most will trust any decision you make.”
“I can’t make decisions for others!” Blakely exclaimed.
“Then decide for yourself, and the rest of us will follow,” Sterns said.
Just then a young soldier hurried across the catwalks. “Captain Blakely, sir!”
Blakely stirred. “Yes, soldier.”
“Troops are climbing from the forest road on the western slopes. They carry the standards of Gaff and Stafford!” the man said.
Blakely nodded to Sterns. “Well, if people are willing to follow me, I’m ready for this war to be over. Prepare to open the gates!”
Miles of wall met John Stafford’s eyes. The mountain pass at Green Meadow was completely blocked. What would they do if this wall was held against them?
Nearing the fortress, John slowed his pace when he heard the distant bray of a trumpet. Thomas, John, and Gaff exchanged glances and then rode forward to within fifty yards of the gate. As if obeying some unspoken command, the huge doors slowly swung open, and John stared through the gates to see old men and young boys dancing and cheering. Men high upon the wall began to shout greetings and thanks for deliverance.
Gaff laughed out loud. “John! These cannot be Devia’s men. They’re opening the gates and welcoming you home!”
Men began to swarm out of the gates, racing to John Stafford and shouting their joy as they ran.
Gaff, John, and Thomas slowly began to make their way through the crowd toward the gates. Across the sea of humanity, John continued to watch for Philip. Where would he be? John asked himself. Most likely he would find a quiet spot away from the crowd. Looking beyond the mobs, John finally saw three men standing alone, away from the crowds and celebration. John recognized his son immediately, and he knew the men with him were his commanders Peter and Andrew. Heaven be praised! John prayed silently. Then, pointing, he shouted to Gaff and Thomas. “Philip is over there!”
The old men surrounding John parted only enough to let them pass. Philip hobbled forward on tired legs while John and Thomas slid from their saddles. There was not a dry eye in the crowd as the Stafford family embraced.
Suddenly a trumpet sounded from the walls of Devia’s fortress. The celebration died, and sil
ence settled over the meadow. Devia, you old rascal, John thought, turning his eyes toward the fortress. What are you going to do now?
John, Philip, Thomas, Gaff, and Mathias moved toward the gates of Devia’s fortress. They intended to be on the front lines if any attack came, but no well-trained army poured forth in battle array. Two lone men walked through the castle gates, and each carried a white flag.
In complete silence, the Stafford men fell to their knees, offering prayers of thanksgiving and lifting their hands in praise to the Lord. Slowly, Gaff joined them, as did his son, Mathias, and within moments nearly every man on the plain had bent his knee, including Peter Sikes. God had indeed preformed a miracle! When those on the walls of Devia’s fortress witnessed the humbling of Amity, they too bowed their heads and hearts before the Lord. When John Stafford rose to his feet, cheers resounded from field and fortress alike. The war was over!
CHAPTER 59
New Challenges
Messengers raced across Amity with the news. Celebrations broke out in every district, but in Stonewall and Waterfront, people also began preparations to return to their homes. All too soon their elation would turn to tears as they realized the cost of their freedom.
Amity would never be the same. Homes and fields had disappeared in smoke and ash. Whole forests had been set ablaze. Much of the verdant valley along the Crescent River resembled a barren wasteland.
Deep scars marred the land, and nearly every family had suffered loss. Yet for a brief moment all was set aside. The war was over!
Stonewall had been stocked with provisions for a siege, but now Rhoop began distributing goods to those most in need. The courtyard teemed with people looking for a handout, and it was wild with celebration.
Amid the ruckus, Mary desperately sought to find Katherine. Catching a glimpse of auburn hair, she waded into the crowd, not sure it was Katherine but afraid not to try. Bumped and jostled about, she lost sight of her quarry as she neared the hospital. Turning from the madness of the courtyard, she found relative calm and quiet in the wards.
When her eyes adjusted to the darkness inside the building, she saw men sitting on their cots, calling out words of thanksgiving to one another. At the far end of the room, she spied Katherine, busily washing and bandaging wounds.
“Katherine!” she cried as she sped across the room. “What are you doing? The whole world is celebrating!”
“I know,” Katherine said calmly. “But celebrations don’t change these men’s bandages.”
Mary felt her face grow hot. She’d quite forgotten her duties in the joy of the moment. “Let me take your place.”
“There’s no need,” Katherine said. “I’ve seen the courtyard.”
“But you haven’t seen the messenger from Philip,” Mary said, her eyes twinkling.
Katherine gasped, her work entirely forgotten. “Does he have a letter for me?”
Mary gently pushed Katherine aside and took up her labor. “He’s in Lord Rhoop’s chambers,” she volunteered.
In a flurry of motion, Katherine brushed a kiss upon Mary’s cheek and fled the room.
Carefully unfolding the crisp paper, Katherine noted the bold handwriting. This letter had been written upon a table rather than a rock or someone’s knee. Trying to steady her hand, Katherine read the inscription.
Dearest Katherine,
I’m sure by now you have heard that the war is over. The Lord Almighty has spared Amity and has brought both Father and Thomas home. I have so much to be thankful for.
Father has aged terribly, and Thomas is different too. I think both suffered horribly during their time away, but enough about my family.
I suppose you have heard that Jabin was dethroned. Guess who took his place. Seagood! That’s right, our own Seagood.
There is some sad news too. Mercinor is dead. You were right all along. He was in Devia’s employ, but it may give you some consolation to know that Mercinor killed Master Devia in the end and thus brought this war to a close much sooner than we had hoped. For that, I am forever indebted to your cousin.
You may remember Jiles McCormick. We found him outside Devia’s palace. He was at the bottom of the tallest tower I have ever seen. Apparently he had fallen. I climbed that tower, and Katherine, you should see the view. It is breathtaking.
We hope to start home soon. I wish it was today, but both Father and Thomas feel we should move slowly. They want to spread encouragement and healing along the way. I know they are right, but I’m rather anxious to get home.
I spoke with your father yesterday, and that brings me to the point of this letter. Katherine, I cannot imagine living the rest of my life without you. Would you consider marrying me? Please don’t answer at once, but bring it to the Lord in prayer.
I have other news, but my heart is so full I cannot think clearly! Until we meet, I shall wait with bated breath to know your answer!
With love,
Philip
Katherine clutched the note tight to her breast. Tears spilled over her cheeks and onto the paper. “Yes, Philip,” she whispered, her heart overflowing. Turning, she raced for the hospital wards. “I’ve got to find Mary.”
After a few weeks at Green Meadow, Gaff made preparations to go home. He had helped John map a strategy for restoration, and then, feeling the need to return to his own people, he had declined to ride all the way to Stonewall.
With a hearty farewell, Gaff and his men departed Amity, leaving only Mathias behind. Mathias could not bear the thought of leaving Thomas. Jokingly Mathias predicted that he would remain a bachelor until his dying day. Never were any words more unfounded.
After weeks of work and waiting, the day of the Staffords’ departure finally arrived. Placing Commander Blakely in charge of Green Meadow for the interim, John Stafford’s parting words granted pardon far and wide. Not a dry eye remained in all of Green Meadow as John set out. Healing had begun.
With his men well rested, John made good time until he reached Headwater. There he was reminded of the hospital that had been established after the battle of Green Meadow. Stories of Jennifer and her brave deeds became the conversation of the hour. Thomas, Mathias, and a small company decided to ride out and see what had become of Jennifer and “her men.”
Evening was fast approaching as the men rode off, so they carried supplies to camp overnight, not knowing what they might find. They rode several miles up a winding valley until their path crossed a stream. During the entire ride they saw no signs of life or activity.
Climbing the hills into the forest, they suddenly entered a small clearing. Oil lamps illuminated a small cabin and the nearby barn. Men limped or hobbled about the barnyard, unaware of the visitors.
Thomas and his company had ridden quite some distance into the clearing before an alarm was raised. “Intruders! Man your weapons!”
The company halted, and Thomas called out, “Peace, friends. Do not be alarmed. The war is over!”
His words were met with stony silence. Disbelief was strong. The men in this camp had lived in isolation and fear for so long that hope had become a twisted mockery. They silently gripped their weapons, wary and aloof.
Thomas slowly rode toward a line of armed men. “Men of Amity, I am Thomas Stafford!”
“Don’t come any closer!” shouted a large man striding forward. “We don’t have anything you need.”
“Benya?” Thomas asked. “Is that really you?”
There was a low murmur among the men, and the big man stopped in his tracks.
“Benya Hefington!” Thomas called. “I know you! Don’t you remember me?”
The man stepped back a pace or two. Thomas was about to move forward again when a young woman appeared in the cabin doorway.
Jennifer stared, her eyes wide with wonder. In the dim light, she thought she beheld James Stafford with a beard. “My lord,” she whispered, ste
pping forward. “I thought you were dead! I was with your father when we buried you!”
Thomas smiled. Was he always to walk in his brother’s shadow? “Not so, my lady!” Thomas said. “I am not James. He is dead. I am his brother Thomas.”
Jennifer fell to her knees and cried, “My lord!”
That single gesture ripped all doubt and fear from every man in the clearing. Men crept cautiously from the shadows. “Is the war really over?” someone called.
“Yes,” Thomas responded.
“Praise the Lord!” someone shouted, and then bedlam broke loose. Men shouted and hugged each other for joy.
Mathias rushed forward to meet the brave and beautiful girl of so many stories. Never had he been so moved. When Jennifer looked up and their eyes met, Mathias lost his heart forever. He had seen all of Amity he needed to see. If this girl would have him, he silently vowed never to stray from her side.
Those from Jennifer’s hospital who could march home joined John Stafford at Headwater. Those who couldn’t were carried in wagons. When Bill Cotton was reunited with Larry Chavez, they became inseparable. Bill, with two good legs and one good arm, and Larry, with two good arms and one good leg, made a perfect match. Together they marched in the wake of Amity’s returning heroes.
Crowds met them at Zaraphath, but beyond that city the countryside was stark and barren. Few folks met them on the Greenway, and fewer still greeted them as they entered the war-torn village of Capri.
Bill searched the few faces that lined the streets of Capri and suddenly stiffened. Ella Walton stood some distance from the road. She was searching among the marching men for the one face she dearly longed to see.
Bill’s heart sank, and a flood of emotions washed over his soul. How can I tell her about Bob? he wondered. Nudging Larry, he pointed her out.
“Your woman?” Larry asked.
“Bob’s widow,” Bill answered.
Larry’s smile faded. “Hey, man. You don’t want me around!”
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