The Order of Shaddai rs-2

by James Somers

  Gideon watched the strips of scroll reduced to ashes in the fire. They rode the thermals into the air, then drifted down the beach. He had not protected the Word of Shaddai, nor Ethan, Shaddai’s Deliverer. Sorrow pummeled his soul like a wave of the sea. “Why not simply kill me now?”

  Rommil laughed. “How perfectly cowardly of you. But there will be no taking the easy way out of this, priest. You will stand before my master. He alone will decide your fate.”

  The sails on the sleuth billowed and caught the wind under the direction of Rommil’s crew. Gideon closed his eyes to the spiritual carnage taking place on the beach. Whatever happened to him now, he deserved it for his failure to Shaddai.

  HOPE REMAINS

  Ethan, Levi, and Seth remained behind the dunes, watching as General Rommil’s men broke away the lock securing the scroll chest where it sat next to a large fire roaring on the beach.

  “They’re shredding the scrolls,” Ethan hissed through clenched teeth. He couldn’t take it any longer. He tried to surge forward from the protection of the dunes. Levi and Seth caught him and held him back.

  “No!” Levi urged him. “You can’t.”

  Ethan pulled against them, but he didn’t have the strength to break free from their grip. He still couldn’t realm shift either. Instead he had to sit and watch the soldiers destroy the Word of Shaddai meant for Macedon’s people. Tears began to stream down his cheeks in anger.

  Seth tried to reason with him. “Ethan, Levi is right. You can’t just march out there for Rommil to see you.”

  Ethan slumped down behind the sand dune with them. “But they’re burning the scrolls-the Word of Shaddai, Seth-burned like so much garbage.”

  Seth considered it.

  Levi watched The Razor through a small spyglass. “I believe I see Gideon aboard that ship. Rommil’s men have him. He looks pretty beaten up, but there’s no chance of getting to him right now.”

  “At least we know he’s still alive,” Seth said, hoping it would improve Ethan’s outlook.

  “I’ve failed, Seth,” he said. “I was charged to guard those scrolls with my life, and now the real hope of Macedon has been reduced to ash before my eyes.”

  “We had better get busy working out some way to follow The Razor,” Levi said. “It will take a fast ship to even hope of keeping up with her.”

  Seth clapped Ethan on the shoulder. “I think I need to show you something before we go.”

  Seth got up under the cover of the dunes and walked back into the underbrush. “Come on, men. I believe we can find a ship to suit us on the other side of the island. And maybe, just maybe, I can restore your faith in Shaddai.”

  The group walked for miles. Even Dung the rat came along, though it was unclear to everyone, but Ethan, why the beast bothered with them. Levi kept a suspicious eye on the giant rodent the entire way across the island.

  Seth led them through the jungle, until they were deposited inside a small village at the edge of an ancient lava flow. Ethan wondered if the entire island was perhaps the product of some old volcano pushing its way through the surface of the Azure Sea, long ago.

  The villagers gave cautious stares, until they noticed Seth leading them. Evidently, he was well known to them, which piqued Ethan’s curiosity all the more. Some of the people called the blind priest’s name, to which he obliged them with courteous waves and shouts. By voice alone, Seth apparently identified them all correctly.

  Ethan also noticed that no one appeared to be threatened by Dung the rat. Where was he? The giant rodent had disappeared from their ranks. He scoured the tree line and found Dung hiding beyond the edge of the village away from the people. Ethan tried to coax him forward, but Dung apparently wanted to remain hidden from view. Perhaps, he doesn’t want to alarm the people, or maybe he just knows something I don’t.

  Ethan carried on after Seth. The blind priest brought them to a particular thatched hut, among many, and knocked. Someone peeked from behind the door. Then, seeing Seth, they opened the door wide. A stocky man with bushy black hair stepped out and embraced Seth in a bear hug.

  “Whoa, Bombil, you’ll break me if you don’t stop,” Seth said.

  Bombil gave an inquisitive look at Seth’s two companions. Ethan and Levi looked like street urchins in their tattered, stained garments. The reek of sewage and lizard dung still wafted off Levi’s clothes-fire being the only way they could be purged of the foul funk now.

  “What have you brought us, Seth?” Bombil asked.

  “This is Captain Levi Bonifast. And may I present Ethan, priest of Shaddai and the promised Deliverer.”

  Bombil was clearly stunned by the revelation. He looked back at Seth as if the blind priest might be playing a prank on him. “Truly, Seth?”

  Seth smiled, even though he couldn’t see the expression on Bombil’s face. “I understand your doubts, my friend. I too found it difficult to believe the prophecy had come true. However, if we could get out of the street and into some suitable clothing, then perhaps Ethan would be willing to enlighten us to the journey that brings him to Macedon.”

  Ethan felt as though he were on the spot now. “I, uhm, I guess I could do that. But we mustn’t delay too long in chasing down the ship with Gideon onboard.”

  Bombil stepped aside in the doorway, beckoning for the others to come inside his home. His wife and two sons were seated at a small table inside with only four chairs.

  “Gentlemen, this is my wife, Ella,” Bombil said. “I wonder, dear, if you would fetch some clothing for our guests.”

  The children sniffed the air at them. Levi looked away, embarrassed.

  “Certainly,” Ella said. “I’m sure the boys and I can scrounge up something from around the village. Come along, my sons.”

  The children got up from the table with their mother and followed her out the front door. They paused and sniffed again as they passed Levi, then wagged their hands before their wrinkled noses, giggling.

  “Come along, boys,” Ella called from outside. The boys scrambled obediently after her.

  “Come and sit,” Bombil said. “We have much to discuss.”

  “Seth said he had something he wanted to show me,” Ethan said. “Perhaps we might take care of that first?”

  Bombil looked at Seth for approval. “It’s all right, old friend,” Seth said. “Show them our treasure.”

  This piqued Ethan’s interest all the more. Even Levi had perked up at hearing of a treasure-the pirate blood in him no doubt. Ethan watched Bombil go to a corner of the main room and move aside a barrel sitting there. He knelt in the floor and used a small tool, he had produced from his pocket, to loose one of the floorboards.

  A segment of wood popped out of place to reveal a handle beneath. Bombil pulled the handle and a trap door raised. He motioned for Ethan and Levi to follow him. “Come on then, if you want to see it.”

  Bombil climbed down the ladder beneath the trap door. Ethan and Levi both followed. They descended into a subterranean cavern. The walls had been carved out to suit the purposes of the villagers, and the ceiling had been reinforced with sturdy cedar beams.

  The sounds of the sea echoed along the wide chamber from the far end. Ethan noticed weapons and food, stored against some unforeseen calamity. Bombil proceeded to a small antechamber and pulled back a thick leather curtain. Ethan couldn’t believe what he saw.

  A silver chest sat in the middle of the small room on top of a wooden table. Ethan rushed to the chest, caressing it to see if it was real. “Is this-?”

  “It is, Master Ethan,” Bombil said.

  “But we saw the scrolls and the chest on the shore with Rommil’s soldiers,” Levi said. “They tore them and burned them right before our eyes.”

  Bombil laughed. “A fake my good Captain. When Seth rescued you from your ship, we followed after and secured the scroll chest from your cabin.”

  “But how did they get another scroll chest?” Ethan asked.

  “That chest was brought by Seth when he
came, with the Word, to Macedon years ago. The King of Macedon arrested him and had his eyes darkened. Then he was left to rot in the castle dungeon, until he managed to escape. The chest had been emptied and left behind. We took it, hoping Shaddai might one day send us his Word to fill it again.”

  “But who are you people, anyway?” Levi asked.

  “Seth did manage to bring us the Word regardless of the King’s edicts. He had the Word hidden in his heart. When he escaped, we aided him and were taught the will of Shaddai by him. Now, we follow the Almighty and serve his purposes here in Macedon. We hope to use the scrolls to spread his message of hope and salvation throughout the island.”

  Ethan grinned from ear to ear. His mission had not failed after all. He felt a great weight lifted from him and looked skyward praising the Almighty. “Even my feeble efforts couldn’t undo what you would have done.”

  HOME TO NOD

  Gideon stood still in the hold of Rommil’s sleuth. Rommil stood above, watching him from the cargo hold door. A thick chain dangled between Gideon’s manacles. His feet had been left free of bonds, Rommil had not yet told him why he was now in the hold.

  “I suppose, priest, that you think I desire some information from you,” Rommil said from above. Gideon looked at him, but said nothing.

  “Actually, I only mean to teach you a lesson. And of course my men always enjoy a bit of sport. These passages from Macedon to Nod can be so boring.” He laughed.

  Gideon watched as men climbed down the single ladder leading into the cargo hold. They were burly brawlers from among Rommil’s guard. Gideon noticed faces from among the crew as well. They smiled and popped their knuckles as they hit the landing and encircled Gideon.

  The men each carried a weapon of their choosing. Some held clubs, one a chain, and another few had brought whips. Gideon busied his mind with whom to attack first, and how he might best progress to the ladder, scale it, and possibly escape the ship. With demons onboard to prevent him, he supposed his chances were fleeting at best, but he felt he had to try.

  His attackers seemed to also have some sort of plan. They looked at one another knowingly.

  “Remember boys,” Rommil said, “he’s not to be killed, or else you’ll answer to me personally.”

  The men’s faces hardened-certain that this would be an unwelcome prospect.

  Ten men circled Gideon, each waiting for an opportunity to lay into him. A few had soiled bandages which seemed to indicate he’d faced them already in previous conflicts across the deck. Gideon prayed silently and waited for the first strike.

  One of the whips curled through the air around its master’s head, then lashed toward Gideon. He threw up a taut chain and allowed the whip to strike it. The leather thong wrapped quick around the links. Gideon pulled the chain, whip, and man holding it across the floor.

  Taken unaware, the man stumbled into Gideon’s grasp. He seized the man around the neck with the chain, then crossed his wrists behind. The soldier gasped, clutching vainly at the chain about his neck as he turned a sickly, bluish purple.

  The others halted, dumbfounded by the priests ferocity. They all held back as the first man succumbed to unconsciousness. Gideon released the man and he crumpled to the floor in a heap. “Who’s next?”

  The armed men all looked at one another, wondering who would dare make the next attempt. They decided on a joint effort and closed simultaneously. Gideon took the fight to them.

  He kicked the closest in the side of his right knee, dropping him like a sack of potatoes. Then he leaped toward the one he supposed was the more fearful of the group-he’d seen it in the man’s eyes-causing the man to stumble into someone next to him.

  Gideon attacked each of them in turn this way, sometimes dodging the swing of a club, the crack of a whip thong, or even a fist, but he always came out better. Men dropped like flies to the floor around him with few getting up for a second try. His chain clinked between his wrists, when he finally stood still again, looking up at General Rommil.

  Rommil’s smiling expression surprised Gideon. Then he noticed the General look at someone above and motion for them to join the fray. A small wiry fellow leaped over the threshold and dropped into the hold like a cat.

  The man was naked from the waist up, sweating, and dirty. His lean muscle flexed as though every fiber might snap at any moment. His face held a ferocious expression that seemed more animal than human. Gideon had begun to wonder if the man was possessed, when the man suddenly dodged sideways, then leaped at him.

  Gideon responded in kind, but the man moved faster than expected. He managed to smash Gideon across the jaw. He stumbled but recovered before the man attacked again.

  The sailors and soldiers who had just received a sound thrashing from Gideon stood to their feet against the walls and stacks of packing crates to cheer on his destruction. Others lay on the floor where they had landed earlier, still unconscious to the world around them.

  “Stan has spent time with more than a few of our demon brothers, priest,” Rommil said. “I think you’ll find him a more fitting opponent for your skill.”

  Stan lunged again. Gideon tried to block him, but he seemed to float wherever pleased him rather than thrusting in one direction. He forced Gideon back while the other men scattered from the fight. To make things more difficult, Gideon’s wrists remained bound by manacles and chain.

  The demon possessed man drove toward his waist. Gideon decided to meet the unorthodox fighter with his own brand. He somersaulted forward so that his feet spun around tightly. Gideon slammed them down with his full weight onto Stan’s back as he passed under.

  Gideon had expected to drive the wind completely from his lungs, but Stan only became more ferocious. He forced his way up with Gideon standing on him. Stan spun around to get to him, but Gideon jumped away. Stan pursued. Gideon kicked the man’s knee hard enough to shatter bone, but he merely stumbled and kept coming.

  Stan grabbed Gideon’s manacle chain as he tried to strike. Gideon leaped over him as the possessed man yanked back on his chain. Before he touched down on the other side, Stan yanked the chain back the other way, slinging Gideon against his own momentum-tossed like a dog’s chew toy.

  Gideon got up quick, grabbed one of the men standing nearby and thrust him toward Stan as he came again. The possessed man grabbed his shipmate, then tore into him like a crazed animal. The others watched, horrified, as their mate was brutalized and tossed to the side. They screamed in terror, falling over themselves to escaped by the one ladder.

  Gideon couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. “We are Legion-we are many,” Stan howled. He wiped his bloody arm across his face, making him seem even more ferocious. Then he attacked again.

  Gideon reacted by driving a fist up under the man’s jaw. He realized his manacled wrists moved independently now-the chain had snapped. He used his new freedom and tore into the man, fighting for his life.

  Stan faltered, fell, got up, attacked again and again. He did not possess the kind of skill Gideon had, but he never stopped coming, and Gideon grew weary. He tried to get to the ladder-anything to get away from the beast pursuing him around the hold. Stan reached it first and tore the rails and rungs away with several swipes that Gideon knew would have broken all the bones in a normal man’s arms.

  Gideon tried the weapons still lying on the ground. He seized two of the clubs and battered the creature before him, until his skull split open. Still, Stan kept coming. Gideon picked up the whip as he crossed the floor, trying to gain some time to reorganize his defense. He turned and snapped the leather thong at Stan. The possessed sailor grabbed it, pulled it out of Gideon’s grasp, then tore the leather to shreds and continued after him.

  “I don’t want him killed!” Rommil shouted. He seemed genuinely concerned at this point.

  Stan tackled Gideon. The priest dropped, rolled, and kicked the man off of him. Stan flew into the wall and sank to the floor. His rage grew even more. Stan lunged again. Gideon managed to sidestep
the crazed man and seize his head in an iron grip. He jerked the neck as hard as he could. It made a sickening snap and Stan went limp in his arms.

  Gideon dropped him to the floor and backed away, gasping for breath. His clothes were soiled and torn. Despite his victory, he already felt multiple bruises, cuts, and abrasions crying out their pain from all over his body.

  He heard singular, measured clapping and looked up toward his captor. Rommil finished his mock applause with a disgusted smile. “Well done, priest of Shaddai. You have bested Legion.”

  The fear so apparent in his men barely crept into Rommil’s eyes as he looked down on him from the main deck. Gideon held onto quiet satisfaction, but said nothing. He hadn’t actually gained anything, after all. He was still a prisoner.

  “General Rommil, Jericho, is pleased,” a voice emanated from Stan’s body, even though the man didn’t move.

  The name-mentioned by Isaiah before-caused a chill to run up Gideon’s spine. The leader of demons had been watching him-perhaps, the very same Ethan had been defeated by in Mordred’s palace at Emmanuel. Fear began to creep from the recesses of his mind.

  Rommil seemed to find something changed in Gideon’s expression at the mention of the name. He smiled. “I see you have heard of his fame?”

  Gideon’s face became stone. He wouldn’t give Rommil the satisfaction.

  Nevertheless, even that appeased Rommil’s curiosity. “I see. Well, my lord feels you will make him a worthy servant. He would have me to offer you a pain-free contract into his service.

  Gideon fumed with indignation and let it show on his face.

  “Do you refuse his generous offer of employment?” Rommil asked with mock bewilderment.

  Gideon mustered his reserves, pushed fear back out of his mind and answered loud and true. “I do refuse to worship or serve any but Shaddai, The Lord Almighty, my rock and refuge.”

  Rommil smirked. “Very interesting. We shall see, priest, we shall see.”