Beyond the Fire

by Dewayne A Jackson

  Philip’s party had taken a circuitous route to avoid armed resistance. The Great River was flooding from spring thaws, and they all had nearly drowned trying to cross it. Other than that, they had suffered only the normal aches, pains, and deprivations of time in the saddle. Still, Helsa had mixed feelings when they climbed out of the forest to the open meadow west of Devia’s fortress and she saw the wall that sealed Amity from the rest of the world. Her aching limbs, the dark wall, and a chilly breeze combined to make her first view of Amity rather unappealing. Is this really where I want to spend the rest of my life? she wondered.

  They rode slowly across the open fields toward the entrance to Amity. As the gates came into view, the ladies stayed back with their escorts, and Philip rode on ahead.

  “Stay where you are!” a voice boomed from the wall above them. “Who are you, and why do you disturb the peace of Amity?”

  The group watched as Philip tossed the cloak from his head and shoulders, allowing the helm and armor of Amity to shine in the morning sun. He stood in his stirrups and shouted, “I am Philip Stafford, and my party seeks audience with the master of Amity! Will you let us enter?”

  Silence ensued, and Helsa held her breath. Will they even let us in? she wondered. Will this place ever feel like home?

  She thought of her uncle Levi and the sense of security he had always provided her. Life here would be so different, so strange. Suddenly she longed for her dear old maid who had fussed nonstop every night before she would go to bed. Oh, how she hungered for the familiarity of home.

  Then she remembered Hesketh and his ongoing battle with Jabin. Panic nearly overwhelmed her as she thought of her beloved homeland and her people in their struggle with evil. Would the Gray Lands fall as so many other kingdoms had? As dark thoughts festered in her mind, Helsa recalled a poem her uncle Levi used to recite about Jabin when she was very young. Goodness, she thought, has Jabin been around that long? Will war and evil never end?

  Tears welled up in Helsa’s eyes as she thought about Hesketh, her people, and the poem about Jabin.

  Jabin, they say, is an angel of light,

  Offering hope to those in the midst of night.

  But he rules with fear and the crack of a whip

  Like a demon at the head of his ship.

  A king he thinks he’ll always be,

  But God alone rules destiny.

  Mary touched Helsa’s arm. “Is something wrong?”

  Helsa merely shook her head. Her heart was too full for words.

  “Look!” Mary whispered. “The gates are opening!”

  Drying her eyes, Helsa watched as massive gates began to swing open. From high above came the sound of music. A score of men lined the walls, and that many more marched out the gates to greet them. In beautiful harmony, they raised their voices:

  Come weary traveler; do not fear,

  For peace and rest await you here.

  Find joy and comfort for your soul,

  Until your heart is safe and whole.

  This wall is not to block thee out

  But free thee from thy fear and doubt.

  The portal now will open wide.

  To you we say, come on inside.

  To us is given the curious fate

  To wait for you beside this gate.

  Helsa would have laughed outright if her heart had not been so full, but suddenly she grew sober. Her own people had suffered for years from a curse that was not of their own making, but the men on this wall had just endured a devastating civil war; yet here they were, composing and singing a song just to welcome her to Amity. What a strange and wonderful place this must be, she marveled.

  At Philip’s signal, the group moved forward to join him, and when Helsa drew near, she could see a mischievous twinkle in Philip’s eye. The party pushed their way forward into a mass of cheering soldiers.

  Helsa felt a warm hand on her shoulder and turned to see Philip’s boyish grin. “Welcome to Amity, Lady Helsa!” he said.

  Inside the walls of Amity there was a huge gathering. People from near and far had flocked to the gates to enjoy this moment. Soldiers began to open a path for Philip’s party to make their way to Devia’s fortress. Helsa was bewildered. She could not imagine why there were so many people, and they all seemed to be cheering and waving and tossing flowers into the air. What was the celebration?

  Making their way slowly up the hill, they witnessed another great flurry of activity around the entrance to Devia’s fortress. Helsa wondered if a refugee camp had been established, for there were tents and shelters everywhere on the hillside. She was right about the refugee camp, but the weary, war-torn people living there were also celebrating some great event. Are these people celebrating Philip’s return to Amity? she wondered, and so it would seem, for as Philip and his party passed, everyone stood to cheer.

  “We knew you’d make it!” one man shouted, slapping Philip on the back.

  “Right on time too!” another quipped.

  “Hurry!” called another. “We can’t get this party started until everyone is ready!”

  Helsa looked at Mary in bewilderment, and Katherine laughed out loud. “Don’t you know what is happening?”

  Helsa shook her head.

  “This is your homecoming party!” Katherine shouted over the clamor.

  “What?” Helsa asked, blushing deeply.

  Katherine laughed again. “You really didn’t guess?” she asked. “This is only the beginning!”

  Helsa’s mouth dropped open, but there was no time for words as the crowd swept the princess into the citadel where the comforts of hearth and home were awaiting her arrival.

  Helsa had never felt so pampered. Her every need was quickly met, and every desire freely granted. She would have been totally overwhelmed except that Katherine and Mary never left her side.

  Hot baths, wholesome food, and soft beds washed away the injuries she’d suffered during their flight from the Gray Lands. However, after what seemed a very short time, Helsa was confronted with the inevitable need to leave Green Meadow and finish the journey.

  The day of their departure dawned fair and beautiful. Helsa awoke fresh and ready to go. At breakfast she learned that Philip had planned one last stop before their departure.

  Pulling Katherine aside, she asked, “What is Philip planning to do, drown us like he nearly did when we crossed the river?”

  Katherine smiled, but her eyes were serious. “He wanted to see his brother’s grave.”

  Helsa suddenly turned pale and grabbed Katherine’s hand. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t know!”

  “Of course you didn’t,” Katherine soothed. “Philip rarely speaks of it.”

  “What happened?” Helsa asked.

  “His brother was shot while trying to rescue a girl during the defense of Green Meadow,” Katherine explained. “He died some days later.”

  Helsa thought of Robert McCloskey and said no more.

  The wagon turned from the path and jolted down a rugged ravine. Helsa gritted her teeth as the wooden seat slammed into her back. The side rail whacked her legs, and Mary grabbed her to keep her from flying off the seat. Though the ride was terrible, Helsa felt sure no one could understand the wretchedness she felt in her soul.

  At the foot of a stony bluff, Philip drew the wagon to a halt and climbed out.

  Helsa bit her lip, and Mary gently patted her knee. “You did not plan Robert’s death,” she whispered.

  Tears instantly filled Helsa’s eyes. How does Mary know? Is guilt written all over my face? Helsa did feel responsible for Robert’s death, but she didn’t know how to undo the events of that day.

  The small party watched as Philip knelt beside the simple cross that marked James’s grave. No one spoke or even moved. They did not want to disturb these quiet moments of reflection. In the silence, Helsa
began to understand she was not alone. They all, she supposed, felt bad about something in their lives they were unable to change. There really was only one path left open, and that was to move on. Mary is right, Helsa thought. I didn’t plan Robert’s death. Yes, I wanted to get out of the castle, but I never meant for Robert to die. I need to let this go!

  Bowing her head, Helsa silently prayed. Lord, forgive me. I cannot change the past. Help me to move on. I want to start my life over, please!

  Suddenly Helsa felt a great burden lifted from her shoulders. She could breathe deeply for the first time in weeks. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but they were not tears of guilt or shame. They were tears of joy.

  When Philip arose, he saw Helsa weeping and rushed to her side. “My lady,” he asked, “have I brought you pain by bringing you here?”

  Helsa shook her head, and when their eyes met, she knew Philip understood.

  There was little conversation as they passed through Headwater. The charred homes and massive burial sites rekindled Helsa’s fear for her beloved homeland.

  They spent their first night at Shepherd’s Inn, a quaint little cottage that had miraculously been spared during Devia’s retreat. The food was good, the beds were adequate, and Helsa was so exhausted that she slept soundly.

  The next morning found them on the road again, but soon every town and village began to look the same to Helsa. No matter where they passed, people facing the enormous task of rebuilding their lives would stop their labors and line the road to cheer as the little party made its way eastward. Helsa wondered at this, but again she assumed people were cheering for Philip, as he had played a major role in Amity’s deliverance.

  Helsa grew anxious as one day rolled into another. Several times she tried to voice her concerns, but everyone seemed occupied with thoughts of their own.

  Is Thomas the same gentle man I fell in love with? Helsa wondered. Has he become unapproachable? Is he really as different as people seem to think?

  Helsa also wanted to know about Stonewall, but when she tried to ask Philip, he merely said, “It’s adequate.”

  Being thus ignored, Helsa fell into the habit of daydreaming. At times when she thought of Thomas, she wanted to leap from the wagon and run on ahead. Other times she thought of the comforts of Green Meadow and wanted to turn around.

  Among her thoughts were alarming visions of her brother defending the Gray Lands, fighting with evil and walking down dark roads of danger.

  Philip seemed to sense her darker moods and tried to pass the time by describing the plant life they saw or relating some tidbit from Amity’s history. Sometimes his tales involved desperate battles and valiant feats of men or women, but more often they involved the nurture and care of some rare species of plant.

  Katherine, Mary, and even the mounted guard who rode beside the wagon regaled Helsa with far more information than she could ever remember, but of the things she really wanted to know about—Thomas and Stonewall—they said very little.

  So, on the afternoon that Philip drove them into Waterfront, Helsa was so engrossed in her own thoughts that she failed to notice that the buildings in this town had not been destroyed by war.

  They stopped at Manor House, and Philip turned to his passengers. “I think we’d better stop early today.” He winked at Mary and his beloved Katherine, but the girls were already climbing down from the wagon, glad to be this close to home.

  Helsa was ready for a bath and bed. She did not know what tomorrow would bring, but she would meet Thomas in her dreams tonight, and she wanted to waste no time in getting there.

  Morning came early as a brisk sea breeze drove the lingering mists of night from the land.

  “Wake up, sleepyhead!” Mary called to Helsa.

  Night still lingered in the corners of the room, but birds sang merrily outside. Helsa rolled over, struggling to wake from her dreams. “Why so early?” she asked as Mary carried a lantern into her room.

  “We have a big day today,” Mary teased, “and we don’t want to be late!”

  “Late!” Helsa exclaimed. “Will we reach Stonewall today?”

  “All in good time,” Mary soothed. “Now, slip into these traveling clothes. Breakfast is ready!”

  Helsa was greeted noisily when she entered the inn’s long, narrow dining hall.

  The smell of hot coffee mingled with barley cakes and butter. A wholesome breakfast enhanced by friendly conversation started the day in the most delicious manner.

  With the meal out of the way, Katherine slipped to Helsa’s side. “Now, shall we get dressed?”

  “Aren’t we dressed already?” Helsa asked, lifting a pleat in her firm cotton frock. “I’m ready to travel.”

  “We had something a little different planned for today,” Katherine said with a giggle. Helsa planted her feet as Katherine tugged at her hand. “Come on!”

  Their skirts swayed in the breeze as they waited outside the inn. “Why are we dressed so nice for another day in the wagon?” Helsa asked.

  Katherine was about to give some answer when they heard the inn door open, and Philip stepped into the light. Gone was his military garb, and in its place was a flawless suit. Even Katherine had never seen him so handsome.

  “Sorry, ladies,” Philip said with a twinkle in his eyes, “but the wagon stays here today. We will have to walk.”

  Helsa glanced first at Katherine and then at Mary. Neither woman seemed surprised by the announcement. She looked at her own billowing gown and Philip’s fine suit, and her face reddened slightly. “All right!” she said, squaring her shoulders. “What is going on here?”

  With a disarming smile, Philip took her arm and led her to the Greenway. “We are going on, Lady Helsa.” He turned her eastward, where a great mass of stone appeared to rise from the sea. The sun rose slowly over the ramparts and towers of Stonewall, etching this moment forever in Helsa’s memory.

  She had not known what to expect of Stonewall, but this was beyond her wildest imagination. Though large and unquestionably strong, this citadel by the sea did not intimidate her in any way. It seemed to beckon her, and a feeling of warmth and calm soothed her soul. Is this really my new home? she wondered.

  Her eyes were moist when she glanced at Philip. “It’s beautiful!” she whispered.

  Philip pulled her close. “I’m sorry we teased you, but I can’t believe you didn’t see this when we arrived yesterday.”

  Helsa dabbed at her eyes. “I’ve been so caught up in my own thoughts, I couldn’t see beyond the end of my nose.”

  Stepping farther into the road, Helsa viewed Stonewall a bit longer. “Is Thomas there?” she asked.

  “He’s waiting for you at the ferry,” Philip smiled. “Shall we go?”

  “Yes!” Helsa said, and taking Philip’s arm, she felt as if she were stepping into a dream.

  The morning sun caught the river’s bobbing surface and transformed it into a vast display of shimmering jewels. As if on cue, people poured from buildings and bystreets to line the road. Cheers resounded from willing throats, and flower petals fell like rain.

  Tears streamed down Helsa’s cheeks. Turning to Mary, she asked, “Is this really happening, or am I dreaming?”

  “You are not dreaming, my lady,” Mary said through tears of her own. “This is your day.”

  With grace and dignity, Philip moved the party forward with deliberate steps. The mounted guard, immaculate for inspection, rode behind, and before them, the crowd parted to let them pass.

  The constant cheers and applause from the adoring crowd numbed Helsa and dulled her senses. She suddenly came to life, though, when the crowd parted to reveal one lone man standing on the grassy slope near the river. Months of waiting were nearly over, and her heart raced wildly within her breast.

  For a brief moment, Helsa felt unsure of what lay before her, but lowering her eyes, she followe
d Philip’s lead until they came to a halt.

  Slowly lifting her head, she gazed into Thomas’s eyes, and in that instant, every fear fled as her heart melted with love. This man was not aloof; he was merely alone. She longed to reach out to him and hold him close.

  Philip patted her hand, soldiers of Amity held the crowd at bay, and Mary handed her the wedding bouquet. Katherine gave Helsa a gentle hug. The girls stepped aside as Philip presented the Lady Helsa to Thomas.

  Helsa was surprised, for Thomas was no longer alone. An ancient man had suddenly appeared and was standing by Thomas’s side. Clinging to Philip’s arm, Helsa knew she was ready, so why did she feel this nagging reluctance to take the next step?

  Sensing her uncertainty, Thomas stepped forward. A smile softened his face as he held out his hands. His eyes held her captive, but for one brief instant she glanced down at his hands. There, burned into the flesh of his palm, was the enduring emblem of his suffering and her salvation. All her reservations fled.

  Having left everything she owned behind, Helsa wondered what she could give this man who meant so much to her. The clothes on her back, the shoes on her feet, and even the food she had eaten had come from this man. Releasing Philip’s arm, Helsa reached for Thomas and offered him the only things that were hers to give: her heart, her mind, and her soul.

  On the grassy slope beside the Crescent River, Master Rhoop led the couple in their vows before the Creator of heaven and earth, and the citizens of Amity. The Lady Helsa had finally come home.

  CHAPTER 63

  Stonewall

  Less than one week after Thomas and Helsa’s wedding, Katherine came to Mary’s room and announced, “Thomas and Philip are going to war!”

  Mary stiffened. Life had settled into a pleasant routine in Stonewall. Mary was serving Lady Helsa, but she met with Katherine as often as she could. Her quarters were small but adequate, and she was never expected to do any hard or demeaning labor. Life was almost perfect, if only Katherine could refrain from such gloomy talk.

  “Philip says the call to arms has already gone out,” Katherine stated. “And Thomas sent a man to Emancipation to enlist Gaff’s help.”