Beyond the Fire

by Dewayne A Jackson

  Thomas sat near the fireplace as if he were warming himself, though no wood crackled upon the grate. When their eyes met, Mary gasped. In her mind, she was transported back to a world filled with darkness and terror, but light had come into that darkness. Light, life, and hope had come into her heart through faith—and this man had held the key.

  Mary looked deeply into Thomas’s eyes and realized he also remembered. “It was you!” she whispered.

  Thomas nodded. “I have often wondered where you went.”

  “Faith set me free, but you held the key,” Mary responded. “Thank you!”

  Everyone in the room watched the exchange with growing surprise. “Mary!” Katherine exclaimed. “I thought you said you had never met Thomas!”

  As Mary curtsied low before Thomas, she said, “I was wrong, Katherine. We simply had not been introduced.”

  Thomas smiled broadly and bowed low to Mary. “And now we have!”

  The following morning, Rhoop led Philip and Katherine in their marriage vows. The chapel was filled with wounded soldiers and refugees, and thousands waited in the courtyard outside to wish them well.

  Mary had feared that Katherine’s marriage would leave her bereft and searching for a place to go, but Thomas needed someone to go to Gray Haven to bring his fiancée back to Stonewall. Philip, Katherine, and Mary were chosen, and they were to leave early the next morning.

  Mary placed a neatly folded garment in a small traveling bag and looked around the room. A knock at her door caused her to jump, and she called out, “Who is it?”

  “It’s me!” Katherine called. “May I come in?”

  Mary rushed to the door and curtsied as Katherine swept into the room. “My lady!” she teased.

  Katherine scowled menacingly and then burst out laughing. “Oh, Mary,” she said, “what would I have done without you these last few days? You’ve kept me from going insane!”

  Mary returned her laugh and then grew serious. “Thank you for taking me. I didn’t know what I would do after you and Philip were married.”

  “Mary, I could never leave you! You have become my very best friend—besides Philip, of course.” Katherine spoke seriously. “Are you nearly ready?”

  “I think so,” Mary said.

  “Good! Philip wants to leave tonight,” Katherine warned.

  “Tonight?” Mary asked. “Why so sudden?”

  “I’m not sure,” Katherine said, lowering her voice to a whisper. “But I know Thomas wants to keep our trip a secret. After all, we are going to meet his future bride. No one knows what might happen if Jabin should learn of our plans.”

  Mary suddenly shivered. She had not realized that they might be moving into Jabin’s path.

  Katherine grasped her hand. “Don’t worry, Mary. We won’t be alone. Thomas is traveling with us to Green Meadow, and Philip will stay with us until we reach the Gray Lands. We will be safe enough with Lady Helsa while Philip travels on to Endor.”

  “You mean Philip is going to leave us alone in a foreign land?” Mary was thunderstruck.

  “We’ll be fine, Mary!” Katherine exclaimed. “Just think of all the fun we’ll have together. This is going to be such an adventure!”

  “I hope so,” Mary whispered.

  Mary’s heart pounded as Thomas led their cart onto the tug. She was no longer sure whether to be grateful or angry at having been chosen to embark on this adventure.

  The lights of Waterfront calmed her fears, but all too soon the travelers were out of town, and Mary was startled by every shadow. She was indeed grateful not to be alone when they passed the lonely mounds at Battle Creek and her own half-burned cabin.

  It was still an hour before dawn when they reached the outskirts of Capri, but even in the darkness, Mary was shocked by the destruction. Little of what she remembered had survived. She wondered about her mother’s home and the graveyard where her infant son was buried.

  On impulse, Mary whispered her desires to Katherine, who in turn spoke to the men. Both men nodded and turned the cart northward along Orchard Creek. Traversing the once paved street, Mary saw to her dismay that everything had changed. The trees were gone, and few houses remained.

  Nearing the north edge of town, Mary stared in disbelief. In the block of homes where Dolly’s store had been, the neighbor’s house was standing, though flames had charred the north wall. Next door, the butcher shop seemed unscathed, its thatched roof looking exactly as Mary remembered it. Farther down the street, other homes remained intact, but her mother’s store was gone, burned to the ground. Nothing remained except the stone front. She closed her eyes and recalled so many memories.

  “Do you want me to go with you?” Philip asked.

  “No,” Mary said. “There is nothing here. Could we visit the cemetery?”

  The paving stones had been torn from the street, and it required some effort to turn the cart around in the soft clay, but soon they were jolting on through the city. Philip stopped beside what once had been a lovely little cemetery. Broken trees lay strewn about, and grave markers were missing, but Mary slipped from the cart and made her way to a location permanently fixed in her mind. The others followed at a respectful distance.

  Kneeling beside two mounds of earth, Mary reached inside her heavy cloak and produced two small roses. When she had plucked them from the gardens of Stonewall, she had never dreamed she’d be able to leave them here. Gently patting the moist black soil, she turned and rose to leave.

  “I’m sorry,” Thomas said as he helped her onto the cart.

  Mary nodded, not trusting her voice. Eventually she whispered, “Thank you for stopping.” She settled onto the seat and looked away. She couldn’t cry now. There would be time enough for crying later.

  It was nearly dawn as Bill strode down the road. He didn’t really know where he was going, but he felt certain he needed to hurry. It had been hard to leave Larry and Ella, but the corrals were repaired and the house mended, and Larry had proven he could do the chores by himself.

  Bill felt restless and needed a change. His mind had been so busy that he was surprised to find himself in front of Dolly Trumbell’s burned-out shell of a house. Why did I come here? he wondered. It hasn’t changed since I was here last. I’ve already sifted through the ashes.

  Turning back to the street, he suddenly stopped. In the soft clay of the road, cart tracks had turned around right in front of Dolly’s building. The tracks were clearly fresh, for traffic had not yet flattened them.

  Why would anyone turn around right here? he wondered. There are easier places to turn around. From the signs in the road, he could see that the cart had been small, pulled by a donkey and led by two men. He decided to follow these tracks as far as he could, if for no other reason than to hone his tracking skills.

  The tracks led him to a small cemetery. A depression in the rut signaled that the cart had stopped in one spot for a while. Dropping to one knee, he studied the impressions in the soft soil. There had been two women on the cart, and one of them had led the others across the cemetery.

  Bill’s heart beat faster. The footprints led directly to the graves of Dolly Trumbell and his own infant son. He only knew this because Captain Armonson had pointed them out to him earlier.

  Two red roses lay upon the earthen mounds. Is Mary alive? Bill shook his head. Not likely, but who else would place flowers here?

  Quickly he raced back to where the cart had stopped. Could he follow its tracks through the city? Would he be able to catch up with the cart? Was this why he’d felt such an urgency to leave Ella’s this morning?

  Bill pressed his body against the one remaining wall of his cabin. It was little protection from the cold night air, but he was tired from his fruitless search. He had asked everyone he’d met, and he’d searched Capri high and low, but he had failed to find the cart for which he looked.

  Now he
began to consider his options. He could rebuild his cabin in this very location, but without Mary, that seemed pointless. This had been their spot. Thomas’s invitation to Stonewall kept coming back to his mind, time and time again.

  As morning light filled the eastern sky, Bill walked to the Greenway and looked back at the charred remains of what had once had been his home. Turning away, he began the long walk to Stonewall.

  Bill stood, dejected, in Stonewall’s ancient hallway. For two weeks he’d presented himself to the steward, only to hear, “Come back tomorrow. Master Thomas should be back any day now.” Bill considered the last two weeks. The wait had not been horrible, for he had slept in the barracks with other refugees and had eaten their fare. But he felt the need to move on with his life.

  Another day of waiting, Bill thought. Maybe I should just go home, but where is that? I don’t know where else to go.

  “Bill Cotton!” a familiar voice shouted. Bill turned to see Thomas Stafford hurrying down the hall to greet him. They hugged, and Thomas stepped back to examine his friend. “So, you’ve come?” Thomas asked, the joy in his eyes clouding. Bill nodded, and Thomas shook his head. “I’m sorry. It’s like that all over Amity. But come. I have just returned, and I’m glad to see you!”

  Bill tarried, and Thomas turned to look at him. “Is something wrong, Bill?”

  “I don’t want to burden you, sir,” Bill ventured.

  Thomas laughed out loud. “You, a burden? I should say not! In fact, I need a person I can trust to run some errands for me. First thing I need you to do is to meet with Master Johnson of Capri. There are several things we need to discuss with him.” Thomas began to recite a never-ending list of jobs as he ushered Bill into Stonewall’s great house.

  Nights were growing long, and days were growing cold when Philip, Katherine, and Mary arrived at Gray Haven. The women bonded with Helsa immediately, and Levi was grateful for their company. Philip hurried to Endor to offer Seagood assistance, and the women began knitting mittens for the servants’ children. It was not long before frozen talons of snow gripped the earth, and the north wind howled through the towers.

  Sitting near the hearth one evening, Levi watched as the ladies chatted amiably. This is how life was meant to be, he mused. I wish it could last forever. Christmas was just around the corner, and Philip would bring his report about Hesketh and Endor.

  Days passed, and Philip did arrive for Christmas. His presence cheered Katherine, but his report about Endor dampened everyone’s spirits. Jabin had regrouped in the northlands and had returned with thousands of men. Endor was under siege. Philip doubted that war would spread to Gray Haven while winter remained, but with the coming of spring, no one knew whether the Watchers or Seagood’s army could hold Jabin back.

  When Philip returned to Endor, the castle at Gray Haven seemed much too cold and confining. Despite the fear of war, everyone longed for spring.

  Warmer weather finally came to the Gray Lands, and one bright morning Helsa convinced her uncle to let the ladies out to search for flowers.

  “I hope the crocuses are still blooming,” she said brightly to her companions. “I was beginning to think Uncle Levi would never let us leave the castle!”

  Mary bent to smell the wild roses along the path. “You know, it’s the fear of Jabin that makes your uncle so careful.”

  “I know,” Helsa chirped, “but the courtyard is much too small and stuffy on a beautiful day like this!”

  Everyone agreed. The day was beautiful. Sprays of color dotted the normally barren hillsides, and the air was awash with the sensuous, almost pungent odor of moist earth warming in the sun. It was heavenly.

  “Poor Robert!” Helsa addressed her bodyguard. “I doubt very much that you wanted to pick flowers today.”

  The big man turned quite red and cleared his throat. “This is fine, Lady Helsa,” he said stiffly. Robert McCloskey was in charge of twenty men assigned to protect these ladies on their outing. He had not balked when receiving his orders this morning, but now he dared not let on.

  “I doubt it was necessary for you to come,” Helsa continued. “But Uncle Levi is so …”

  “Protective of you,” finished Katherine. “Helsa, you know Levi loves you like a daughter.”

  “I know.” Helsa sighed. The bright sun and the intoxicating smell of the flowers soon drove grumpy thoughts far from everyone’s mind. The girls lingered over one group of flowers and then another.

  Though McCloskey had not hesitated to come this morning, something now made him uneasy. There had been no reports of enemy movements on this side of the river, but his unrest grew with each passing moment.

  “Oh, look!” Helsa cried, peering over the rim of the mesa. “The best flowers are down here!” Like ducklings following their mother to water, Katherine and Mary followed Helsa over the edge of the mesa and disappeared from view. They found the steep hillside cluttered with rocks, scattered tufts of grass, and a vast assortment of wildflowers.

  “Don’t stray far!” McCloskey called. He could see most of the depression and the valley road beyond. Although everything looked all right, something felt wrong.

  The ladies scattered from one flower to the next with little regard for time, distance, or each other. Clearly their minds were occupied elsewhere, drinking in the beauty of the day. Helsa strayed farthest.

  McCloskey watched the girls and stifled the urge to call them back. There was no appearance of danger. In fact, everything was too quiet. Mentally he reviewed the scene and then stopped short. There was no wildlife. On a fine spring morning like this, he should have seen several ground squirrels or at least a rabbit. Something was wrong.

  A movement among the rocks caught McCloskey’s eye. Forgetting the need to take cover, he stepped forward to warn the girls, but his warning never came. His large body, outlined on the rim of the mesa, made a good target, and one arrow pierced his throat as three more struck his chest.

  Just as Helsa bent to pick a daisy, she saw a swarthy little man leap from behind a rock. A large animal skin flew over her head, and she was instantly wrestled to the ground. Paralyzed with fear, she presented little challenge as several men bound her hands and feet. Mary fared little better. Only Katherine moved quickly enough to evade her attacker’s assault. She turned on her assailants with the fury of a tiger, and her screams brought the remainder of the royal guard on the run.

  Unable to see, and nearly suffocating beneath the animal skin, Mary knew she was being carried swiftly down the slope. When she heard Katherine’s screams, she fought and twisted like an eel. Slipping from her captor’s hands, Mary fell, her head striking something hard, and she knew no more.

  “She’s coming around.” Mary heard the words but had no idea who had spoken or what they meant. Cautiously, she opened her eyes.

  “Can you hear me?” Philip asked.

  Mary tried to nod, but the movement sent shards of pain streaking through her body.

  “Don’t try to move,” Philip warned.

  Mary closed her eyes and tried to think where she was. Suddenly she gripped Philip’s arm. “Helsa and Katherine!” she whispered. “Are they all right?”

  “They’ll be fine,” Philip said, patting her hand reassuringly. “Katherine took a few knocks before we got to her, but she is young and strong, and she will recover quickly. Helsa wasn’t hurt so badly, but she is frail, and the shock of the ordeal has dealt her a terrible blow.”

  A worried expression crossed Mary’s face, and she struggled to get up. “Please take me to them,” she whispered.

  “Dearest Mary,” Philip soothed, “we might let you see them tomorrow, but you need to rest today. Everyone is being well cared for in your absence.”

  Mary smiled and closed her eyes. Releasing Philip’s arm, she sank beneath the covers and relaxed. It wasn’t until late in the night that she awoke with a start and realized Philip had not
been at Gray Haven for months. Why was he here now?

  “Philip says we must leave soon,” Katherine said quietly. “The roads may soon be held against us.”

  A chill ran up Mary’s spine, and she glanced at Helsa. It seemed the gracious Lady of Gray Haven would never recover. Lady Helsa’s innocence was gone. A man was dead because she had wanted to pick flowers. Her guilt had driven her into withdrawal. Mary glanced at Katherine and whispered, “What about Helsa?”

  Katherine shrugged and turned to Helsa. “Has Philip spoken to you about our plans?”

  Helsa nodded. “You know, I’ve waited for this day so long, but now that it’s here, I feel so unsure. I still love Thomas, and I want to go to him, but these are my people. Uncle Levi has been so dear to me, and I don’t even know how my brother fares in his battle with Jabin. Is it right that I should run when my people are facing war?”

  Mary reached for Helsa’s hand, but she had no words of comfort to offer. It was Katherine who spoke. “You will not be running from danger by leaving with Philip,” she said. “The roads may be held against us.”

  “I suppose everyone who is near me will share the fate of poor Robert,” Helsa bemoaned.

  Mary and Katherine glanced at each other. They knew Helsa felt responsible for McCloskey’s death.

  “No one knows the future,” Katherine said, “but we are not taking an army. Philip will take only one escort for each of us.”

  “Why so few?” Mary asked in alarm.

  “We have more need of speed than protection,” Katherine said.

  “If haste will save lives,” Helsa said firmly, “then let us go. Tell Philip I’ll be ready when he calls.”

  Later that night, Helsa and her companions were escorted quietly to the gates of Gray Haven. Without fanfare or ceremony, six horses bore their riders into the darkness.

  CHAPTER 62

  Journey Home