by James Somers
“Do you remember your sweet, precious child, Gideon?” Mordred asked, a devilish grin playing happily upon his lips. “The child is still in my control.”
Ethan stood between Mordred and his friend. He looked at Gideon, the shock plain on his face. So that was the missing piece of the puzzle—the reason why Gideon had allowed Mordred to control him. But how could he have a child?
Then he realized. Ethan mouthed the word Sarah? Gideon blinked slowly and swallowed, but he didn’t move. His eyes remained hard, then locked back onto Mordred still enjoying his advantage over everyone in the room.
“The time has finally come, Gideon,” Mordred said. Menace made his voice like ice. “Kill Shaddai’s Deliverer as you were commissioned to do. If you fail, Jericho will not hesitate to return immediately to Nod and destroy the child as we did his mother.”
Ethan looked over his shoulder at Mordred. So, he had already killed Sarah. No wonder Gideon feared for his son. At some point, Mordred had found out what others may only have suspected about Gideon’s relationship with the girl. Knowing Mordred, he may have even kept her alive so that Gideon could see her death.
He felt pity for his friend as he turned back to him. But Gideon’s expression had turned to stone. What have they done to you my friend? Ethan wondered.
Gideon raised his swords and then looked into Ethan’s eyes. “Forgive me,” he whispered. Then he leaped at Ethan, his blades criss-crossing before him.
Ethan dodge to the side as one of Gideon’s swords cut the air near his cheek. Everything had turned upside down again. Ethan had thought, surely, that Gideon wouldn’t actually kill him. He’d been spared on the wall that night Ethan had confronted him. Perhaps he had repented then, but now the threat to his child had taken precedence over everything else. Mordred had control again.
Anger filled Ethan as he realized what was happening. No matter what, he would have to see at least one of his friends die today, or die himself. He blocked Gideon’s strikes again and again as they circled one another in the middle of the room, neither of them willing to give ground.
Mordred gazed upon them with unbridled bloodlust. His victory was complete. He had Nod and now Wayland conquered. The Order’s greatest warrior priest was his slave to command. The Deliverer might soon be dead and the prophecy appeared to be defeated.
Ethan shifted in and out of the spiritual realm trying to get past Gideon. But his friend was still too attuned for that. Each time his ethereal blade cut the physical air, Gideon reacted, blocking him as though seeing Ethan’s strike a moment before he made it.
And then, suddenly, Gideon screamed, “NOW!”
Ethan had no idea what he meant.
Gideon whirled around using his momentum to hurl one of his swords at Mordred. Ethan watched the blade travel, as though in slow motion. Mordred would have no time to react. But Jericho had seen it too and he did take action.
The demon pulled away, trying desperately to separate himself from Mordred’s body. Ethan anticipated the demon’s move and flung his own ethereal blade to intercept.
Gideon’s sword smashed into Mordred’s chest, splitting his sternum on the way through his heart. Ethan’s ethereal blade caught Jericho just as he exited Mordred’s body. Both demon and man cried out in agony.
Mordred stood only a moment before falling forward on Gideon’s sword. His life spilled onto the pavement beneath him. Jericho’s wounded form, dissolved away like leaves blown by the wind. He had tried to say something to Ethan in that last moment, but his dissolution stole it away.
THE END?
“So, the prophecy was fulfilled?” One of the children shouted.
The Old Storyteller smiled and winked his eye. “Yes, dear one, the prophecy of Shaddai was indeed fulfilled that day,” he said. “Mordred was dead and the demons that had been allied to the Wraith Riders were gone.”
“But how?” Another child asked.
“Though no one is quite certain, it may have been because of their pact with Mordred. Perhaps they were only able to invade our realm because of their link to the Wraith Riders.”
One of the young girls stood up. “What about the baby? Did the baby live? And Elspeth…what happened to her?”
The Old Storyteller chuckled, remembering. “The baby was perfectly safe with Elspeth. No one returned to harm them. In fact, Gideon eventually fell in love with Ethan’s sister. They were married and had many more children of their own. And when the people desired a king they called upon Gideon once again. He ruled wisely and lived to a good old age with his queen. Before he died, Gideon even saw the birth of his second great grandchild.”
I stood up then. “But what about Ethan, sir? What happened to him? I thought the prophecy said that he was to be the king.”
“Ah, young Phineas, of course,” he said. “I see you were paying attention. That’s good.”
“Yes, sir, and the prophecy stated that, Shaddai’s priest would be a sword of judgment and a king to bring the hearts of the people back to their God.”
“Yes it did, Phineas,” he said, smiling. “But Gideon was also a priest of Shaddai’s Order and it was his sword that brought judgment upon Mordred in the end.”
I stood there stunned as the epiphany slowly sank into my mind.
Seeing the truth dawn on my face, the old man laughed. “And as far as the hearts of the people, Gideon, as king, cleansed our country of all its idols. He led by example in his devotion to Shaddai. A devotion that never wavered for a moment from that time on.”
I nodded. Of course it all made sense now.
The Old Storyteller got up from his perch upon the fountains ledge. “Now, children, I’m afraid my story is concluded and it’s time for you all to go and see about your supper. My apologies to you, if I’ve kept you too long from your parents.”
“But you still didn’t say what happened to Ethan,” I insisted.
The old man gave me a sly smirk as he considered his answer. “He stayed on with Gideon for many years, doing what he could in the service of the King. One day, late in his life, he disappeared, and his friends never saw him again. Rumors circulated for a while, but none of them knew where he had gone for sure. Soon enough, he passed from their thoughts altogether…so it’s difficult to say, isn’t it?”
Satisfied with this last bit of information, the other children scampered away as dusk silently descended upon the day. They leaped and ran through the streets on their way to their homes, their tables and their beds. I alone remained, standing there watching the old man as he gathered his satchel and his walking stick and turned to leave.
As his story had neared its end, the streets had gradually grown more and more quiet. Traffickers retired to their homes and places of business closed down for the evening until the new day brought them all out again to haggle for the best prices on their goods.
I watched as his staff began to click on the stones, making his way down the street. “You’re him, aren’t you?” I called.
He stopped, his back still turned to me.
“You’re Ethan.”
He turned then with a weary smile upon his face. He said nothing until he’d walked back to me. “What makes you say that, Phineas?”
I wasn’t sure what to say. I reached down and pulled back my sleeve to reveal my right forearm. “You described a mark, like a star, on Ethan’s arm when he was a small child,” I said, so nervous I almost stuttered.
There, revealed upon my own right forearm, was the same mark in the semblance of a star. The old man grabbed it so fast I didn’t even see his hand move. He examined it, eyes wide with wonder. Then he smiled and closed his eyes, nodding.
“Of course,” he said, “I should have known. Praise our God who never allows evil to go unchallenged.”
I pulled him back from his wandering thoughts, my eyes pleading. “You are him…aren’t you?”
The old man switched his staff from his right hand to his left. He raised his arm so that the sleeve of his robe slid away. The
re, on his right forearm, the same mark stared back at me.
“I knew it,” I whispered. A smile creased my face. Now I would have answers to my questions. What this mark meant. Why I had begun to experience strange phenomena in my life.
My questions began to bubble and the old man saw what was coming. He raised his hand as I began to garble out one upon the other.
“Phineas, my young friend, I cannot stay here any longer,” he said.
“But, but…” I stalled. “Please don’t go, Ethan.” Pleading had returned to my tone.
He smiled at me and placed his hand on my sleeve, rolling it down over my birthmark. Ethan patted my shoulder. “Please understand, Phineas. Nod has once again descended into wickedness. Shaddai has a purpose for you that you don’t understand now, but you will. Only trust him and never waver from your faith in him. He is always with you.”
I turned, disgruntled, still desiring answers to my questions. “Please,” I said with my back to him. I turned. “I only want to—”
But the old man had disappeared.
Nightfall brought protection from the King’s guards who might still be searching for him. Ethan sat down in a deserted alley behind the marketplace. The piles of refuse made for odorous accommodations, but it would do until he was ready to leave for the wilderness tomorrow morning.
He sat down and leaned his staff against the wall. Ethan pulled an apple from his bag and took a bite. As he ate, he noticed the mark upon his arm. The same mark now found upon another young man.
Ethan considered the fact that Shaddai had allowed him to see a new Deliverer identified. He’d wondered how the present wickedness would be dealt with in Nod. Phineas was a king’s son, the heir in Wayland. He would do well once Shaddai set him on the path of Deliverer. Perhaps, he wondered, that had been set in motion over the past few days listening to his story.
He smiled. One thing he was sure was that it was not his place to interfere. He had done what he was supposed to do. Long years he’d spent as Shaddai’s servant. Still, they had been amazing times.
After Mordred’s defeat, the other Wraith Riders had surrendered with little resistance. The giants had been more difficult to contend with, but with all the demons gone, upon Jericho’s defeat, the giants had been eventually destroyed.
The years following had been more wonderful than he might have ever imagined they could be. His life had been so filled with violence from the time of his youth. Peace had been a wonderful gift.
Seeing Elspeth freed from the Wraith Riders had been one of his greatest days. But in the end he understood her capture and his quest to save her as all parts of Shaddai’s intricate plan to bring about Mordred’s defeat. Even Gideon’s capture and the death of his wife, Sarah, though tragic, had all worked toward a greater good. And in the end, both his best friend and his sister had found happiness together.
In the years that followed, Levi had restored the Nodian Navy while Seth helped Isaiah to restore The Order of Shaddai in Nod. Eventually, he had even been named the successor to the High Priest. Everyone had found contentment. Everyone had found a place.
Everyone but him. Ethan had never found a way to fit into this new era of peace. For long years, during Gideon’s rule, Ethan had been a famous hero—the Deliverer of Shaddai. But he never found love in a woman. Never had a family of his own.
Always in the back of his mind, he had felt as though he were waiting for the enemy to return. Ethan had never felt that he could entirely rest or settle down because of it. Eventually, Shaddai had called him into the wilderness. He had departed without even saying goodbye, as Shaddai had led him.
He had been right.
Evil had returned. But now he was too old to fight. Now, that task would fall to another. And finally, with that knowledge, Ethan felt he could rest.
He lifted his eyes to the night sky, smiling. “Lord Shaddai, it has been a long journey. You have allowed me the great privilege of serving you these many years. Thank you for that.” Ethan paused, considering what had been revealed to him today. “I’m sure the boy will do well, my Lord. Please bless him and use him for your glory. Cleanse the land and let the people dwell in peace again. As for me, I’ll wait for the way to be revealed, the place you would have me go next.”
Ethan looked to the wall opposite him. A man who made soup had his shop there. The soup never had been that good. A beggar was sleeping there against the wall only a few feet away.
Ethan’s eyes felt very heavy, his body so weary—so tired. A light shone then, and he squinted a bit to see. Two angels stood in the alley now. Everything else was obscured by their radiance. It had been so many years since he had seen any angels, any spirits at all, now that he reflected on it. They had always been dressed for battle in those days, but not now.
They smiled at him, and one of the angels reached out his hand. Ethan smiled back. Fatigue had all but overcome him. But when he took the angel’s hand, he felt more alive than he ever had.
The apple dropped from his hand and rolled across the ground, bumping the beggar on his big toe.
The beggar awoke and found an apple sitting next to his foot. He picked it up and examined it. A single bite had been taken, but otherwise it appeared to be fresh. He looked around for the owner, but there was no one in the alley with him—only a walking stick leaning against the opposite wall.
The beggar hunched his shoulders, finished the apple, then fell asleep again.
About the Author:
James Somers first novel, The Chronicles of Soone: Heir to the King was published by Variance Publishing in 2006. Since that time, Mr. Somers has published many novels including:
• Hallowed Be Thy Name
• Hallowed Ground
• The Chronicles of Soone: Rise of Lucin
• The Realm Shift (trilogy)
• A World Within
• Percival Strange and the Lonely Manor
• Perdition’s Gate
**If you enjoyed the Smashwords Edition The Sword of Gideon, and the rest of The Realm Shift novels, then visit me at jamessremos(at)yahoo.com and be sure to leave a review. Also look for Percival Strange: The Lonely Manor!