Updated 3/16/24

Chapter 46

The Warrior

It was the last half-moon of winter, the thirtieth year in the reign of King Edal.

The Warrior admired the network that Caileagh had constructed. The infiltration of Freislicht proceeded smoothly due to the pervasive Order of the Black Robe. Perhaps Gaelib’s plan was acceptable. Almost no resistance could be found to his scheme. And this man was a devoted member.

The Warrior sat on the edge of the commandant’s desk, invisible, studying him as he stomped about his stark office. He noticed a shadow lurking behind the door frame.

“You, come here. Quit skulking just out of my sight.”

The misshapen demon ducked his head, approaching cautiously. He bowed low. “Yes, my lord. Does the soldier please you?”

“Yes, you have done well to bring him to my attention. Stay with him. Keep him focused on this knight named Otual. And make sure the space in his mind is ready when I need him.”

The Warrior’s lips turned up. “I can use this one. Keep him talking.” The soldier’s hatred could become a permanent doorway.

The demon plucked at the sore in Greysun’s mind, reminding him of every facet of his grudge against this knight he went on about.

The Warrior had heard of the Knights’ of J’shua. But thought they were of no consequence. What could they do against his power and growing influence in this land?

“I will kill him. Otual has ruined my reputation with the Earl of Lorness. I need a plan to recover my status. Jonathan Otual, I will make you pay! The Knights of J’shua should be outlawed. Useless meddlers.” Commandant Virgil Greysun seethed.

The Warrior listened, making note of all this man said, his grievances and failures, his hopes and fears.

Greysun was bedeviled by Otual’s interference. He’d lost more than one hundred thousand baden. On top of that, were the costs of returning every one of his seventy-seven acquisitions to their homes.

The Warrior smiled, as the demon stoked the pacing commandant’s anger with a touch now and then. He didn’t need much encouragement.

Greysun grit his teeth. His rage boiled. “The blasted knight is out of reach. I have to face Earl Melazera with this failure soon. How can I placate the earl and walk out alive?”

The next morning, the Warrior whispered to Greysun’s open mind, “Do not take revenge on merely one knight. Make them all suffer. Burn down their school. Kill them all. And perhaps that will please Melazera.”

Greysun smiled and the smile grew.

The Warrior gave the demon instructions before he left, “This soldier must journey to Farr Castle to request his lord’s permission of his plan.  Bathed him in a luxurious feeling of satisfaction. Help him sleep well and give him dreams of revenge.”

The Warrior knew Greysun had carefully avoided Gaelib Melazera by sending subordinates with regular reports on the growing army with no mention of that knight of J’shua. They’d returned with sealed messages relating the earl’s displeasure that Greysun had not stopped Otual. A dissatisfaction that could still prove lethal.

When Greysun arrived in Farr Castle, the Warrior followed closely as he entered the South Reception Hall.

Earl Gaelib Melazera was reclining on a couch, cracking nuts. “Welcome.” The voice carried no emotion.

Greysun’s terror was palpable.

It thrilled the Warrior.

Whistles erupted, twittering, wings flapping. Empty, beady eyes stared as the commandant passed steel birdcages.

The earl threw a walnut in the air as he asked flatly, “How are my army assets in Fairness Crossing?”

Tied by a thong to his perch, a large red parrot with big black eyes caught the hard shell in its claw, crushed it easily with its sharp beak, and picked the meat from the bone-like shards.

“My lord, the trainees I have left will be ready when you call.”

“That you have left?” Melazera’s icy tone sent a shiver up his spine.

“The king’s proclamation delivered by Jonathan Otual—”

“I am aware of it. Yet, the more pertinent question is, why didn’t you prevent its delivery? My spy contained the other courier.”

“I was going to arrest him—”

“After he’d delivered it in Fairness Crossing!” The earl surged to his feet, advancing on Greysun. “What use was that? And how’re you going to make up for not stopping him from reaching River Town, Lorness, and Dunis Glen? Do you have any idea what your failure to stop one man has cost me? I needed time to dispose of those I’d acquired but not yet sold.”

The commandant backed away, stumbling. He gawked at the Earl of Lorness, who was toying with a knife. “I’ve placed a large bounty on the knight’s head. If he’s within Freislicht, he’ll be in your hands soon.”

“That’s…something. Too little, too late, but something. It doesn’t relieve you of responsibility for your failings.”

“We can get revenge, Your Lordship!”

“Oh?”

“The Knights of J’shua are zealots. If allowed to continue, they’ll train an army to oppose you.” Greysun rose cautiously, his eyes fixed on his lord’s moving blade. “They interfere with your noble designs. Let me chastise them. What if, by some happy accident, their school burned down and they all perished? Because of their own negligence, of course.”

Melazera smiled, eyes glowing as he stroked the jeweled hilt of his dagger, admiring the sharp edge. Then he pressed it against Greysun’s throat. “Very good, Virgil. As the Second Runic Precept of the Alte Regieren teaches: Let thy revenge be strategic.”

He slid the blade back into its ornate sheath. “We didn’t have this conversation. However, if such a misfortune occurred, I’d wish to hear of it promptly. We wouldn’t want unfounded rumors to spread.”

Commandant Greysun backed away bowing several times. “Yes, my lord. It shall be done, my lord.

The Warrior was so proud of his earl. The earl pleased him more and more at each visitation. And his sacrifices were so delightful. The Warrior smiled.

But he didn’t stay to play with the earl. He followed Greysun to make sure the soldier didn’t mishandle this.

***

It was shortly before dawn when the Warrior spurred Commandant Greysun to action. He pushed them with a fast march through the new snow. By afternoon, the commandant signaled his soldiers to surround the Knights’ School. Once the placements were correct, he bellowed, “Come out, by order of the king!” His anticipation warmed him against the cold.

Finally, the knights trickled out into the low-walled courtyard in front of their school. Some wore their familiar navy cloaks; others were in plain clothes. The cook folded his apron, tucking it in his belt. The soldiers outnumbered them four to one.

So few? This will be all too easy. What a pity; I’d been looking forward to making a show of this. Still, I’ll control the retelling, so…

47

Owakar

Owakar had prayed for a greater understanding of their ways. Today, J’shua came to grant that.

He basked in J’shua’s warm and comforting presence, as he taught, “This life is not where evil is conquered. Evil will be conquered when the Serpent is sentenced and destroyed. Because I overcame the evil one and father raised me from the dead, I can give the spirit to anyone that confesses me as their lord and believes that father raised me from the dead. That is grace. Whether one man overcomes in this life or not, each portrays the wisdom of God and will stand and testify as evidence in the Serpent’s trial. Everything will become clear to them then. And all their tears will be wiped away.”

[For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of the God of Truth, which is in Jesus Ha Mashiach, our Lord.]

J’shua touched the top of Owakar’s head. “You have petitioned for more understanding of their lives and the God of Truth has allowed it.”

Owakar bowed. “J’shua you honor me with this access to the human experience.”

J’shua sighed. “It is not a blessing. The God of Truth will give you firsthand knowledge of this battle. But you may never speak of their thoughts to anyone. Only actions can be used as evidence.”

Now, Owakar felt it all, all the emotions and sensations of each man here. He experienced all of it as the God of Truth did.

***

Crouched in the shadows, Aldrik, the first-year cadet, peered through his mop of brown hair at the courtyard, hearing the loud voice of the lead soldier. Fear ran through his tense muscles. The cook had given him a special job, for Aldrik was exceptional with a bow, despite his youth.

“You must be strong,” the cook had said, “as strong as your faith in J’shua. These men have come to destroy our fellowship. They have surrounded the School and mean for no one to escape. Therefore, I’ll fight to the death willingly to deny them some false story about the Knights being struck down by sickness or some other thing.”

“B-b-but…” Aldrik had spluttered, brown eyes pleading, “Is there no chance?”

“For one or two, perhaps even three. But only if we hold their complete attention.

“Do you recall the gate’s frame being polished daily?” the cook continued. “That was not for the glory of J’shua, but to embed fresh oils. When touched by flame, it will ignite, blocking our enemy’s exit, and stopping their reinforcements. Perhaps some of us will survive.”

Aldrik nodded. He knew the smiling cook was trying to comfort him.

“Therefore, once I have spilled the barrels, you are to put a single burning arrow into the frame of the gate in the courtyard wall. Then leave quickly and head up the mountain.”

The boy recalled nodding, while thinking, praying, that this was not happening. He had to finish what he started. It was his calling ever since he learned he could become a knight. He would avenge his parents’ murders by ridding the world of evil men. Yet he, Aldrik, had a role to play right now.

***

Daikon Vale furrowed his brow as he steeled himself despite the terror he felt. He could see that the boastful royal officer thought the courtyard was a perfect trap. It was—just not in the way he expected. He prayed in the spirit as he waited.

Twenty-four soldiers, all on foot, had spread along the low wall surrounding the courtyard. Armed only with still-sheathed swords, their job was clearly to prevent the knights from escaping.

Two dozen more were within the courtyard, holding drawn swords, hatchets, and knives. Their forward-hunched stances indicated they were waiting to be unleashed. Behind them were the commandant and nine others on horseback. None of whom had drawn their weapons.

“Why’ve you come, Commandant?” Daikon Vale demanded, his non-sword-hand moving behind him, signaling for his fellows to be ready for action. And for the three boys on punishment detail still within the School to slip away, each via a different rear exit.

 “Vale,” Greysun snorted. “Is this all of you?” He scowled at the twelve knights.

“All that’s here,” Daikon Vale said, while signaling for his brothers to keep their swords sheathed. “Why’ve you come, Commandant?”

Daikon Vale scanned the yard and beyond. The first line of soldiers had only outnumbered them two-to-one. That was the last clue. There had to be hidden archers waiting to strike. Lots of them. That meant the only chance of prolonging his knights’ lives, even for a few seconds, was to close. It might allow the young ones a chance of escaping. His heart broke for them, especially.

“You are training rebels against the crown.” Greysun thrust his accusing finger at Vale. “Unfortunately for you, a fire broke out while you were sleeping…and everyone died. It was a sign from your god that you’d failed him. Or that’s how the tale will be told.”

Vale barely listened to the commandant’s reply. It was a gift from J’shua. Precious seconds within which to act. He and his fellow knights had known this could occur. His next hand signal sent them charging forward.

***

Commandant Greysun’s horse shied as knights slammed full tilt into the soldiers before him.

I’d not even finished speaking!

Infuriated, he raised his left hand, clenching it into a fist. A thin-lipped smile grew as his thirty bowmen, concealed in the trees beyond the courtyard, fired. They hit seven knights, including the cowardly cook who tried to run away. With three arrows protruding from his left arm and shoulder, the man crashed into a stack of barrels. The bowmen fired another volley.

More arrows struck the cook’s back as he tried to claw his way to… What’s he doing?

He pondered the dying man’s actions. But Greysun’s bowmen had not only struck knights. They had also wounded eight of his soldiers, as well as a horse and two riders. One right beside his own horse. His irritation flared. Can’t the blasted fools shoot any straighter?

Then a knight broke through the front line.

***

Daikon Vale roared as he shoulder-charged a sergeant who’d stepped forward, blade high. Too high. He cut the soldier down. Then the next opponent and the next. A gap appeared before him.

The crash of barrels and splashing of liquid meant the cook had done his job.

Another knight darted through the opening. A horse went down. More arrows struck. Men screamed. Orders rang out. It was chaos.

But the few remaining knights…

How many of us are left? Four.

…were now amongst the horsemen.

Vale felt a burning pain down his left leg and turned just swiftly enough to stab his assailant and then parry a blow from another soldier. Greysun loomed above him.

The hiss of flames brought a smile to the knight’s face as he slashed at the commandant with all his might.

***

The third-year, red-headed cadet, Brayden, darted to a rear exit his heart thumping in his ears.

This had to be an exercise, like all the others. He’d show that know-all, Tedric, not to show him up during practice bouts. He would set the best time ever for getting to the rendezvous.

Pounding recklessly across open ground, he had only a moment to register the soldier that stepped in front of him, a sword swinging, and…

…then nothing.

***

A bead of sweat dripped as Aldrik watched the wounded cook spill the barrels, their contents splashing into troughs, igniting, spreading lines of fire that rushed across the courtyard like the spokes of a wheel. He knew J’shua was with him.

Calmly, Aldrik bit his lip and dipped the arrow into the waiting flame. Drawing back, the bow creaked, and let fly. He did not miss. But even before the gate burst into flame, he nocked another arrow and targeted a horseman. He fired again and again.

He never felt the enemy arrow that struck him in the neck.

***

Commandant Greysun’s gut tightened, clenching the reins with white knuckles. He urged his horse back from these insane knights as Vale lunged at him. He struck the fool down, but…not before he’d delivered a nasty gash to Greysun’s leg. Greysun squealed in anguish and rage.

A screaming horse beside him reared and threw its rider.

Spurs in, the commandant galloped for the gate, abandoning his men. His only thought was of saving his own life.

Flames licked across the courtyard, threatening to block his escape.

The gate, a blazing inferno, burned the men stationed by it.

With no alternative, Greysun forced his horse over the stone fence, landing awkwardly. The fool beast refused to take another step. Dismounting, he looked down at his blood-stained breeches.

“Blast! By the Serpent!” His leg gave way, spilling him onto his hands and knees. Clutching at the wound, he shrieked in pain. Fearing for his life, he scanned for a place to hide.

The last knight defended against two horsemen until a wounded soldier stabbed him in the back.

It was over. Relief poured over Greysun, but he ached that what should have taken only moments had lasted far too long.

It should have been a one-sided slaughter, but seven officers were dead. As were almost two dozen soldiers. Three of the surviving horses would have to be put down. If his own was lame, that would become four.

Greysun quailed as his leg throbbed. If this story ever gets out, it’ll ruin everything.

The commandant perused his remaining handpicked men. No, he resolved. The knights’ actions were impressive but futile. He tied a leather thong above his wound tightly and twisted it around a stick until it went numb. Then he scanned the mountain as the warmth of the burning building spread through him.

He smiled. “Lieutenant! Carry the bodies inside, recover the arrows, and spread the oil. Be quick. Help me up.”

Already devising his report, he relished sending the report to Melazera detailing the knights’ demise.

***

The fourth-year cadet, Tedric, panting, inched quietly uphill through the undergrowth, glancing back at the battle. He clenched his teeth as the last knight fell.

Brayden ran across the field, unaware of the soldier that stood between them.

Tedric froze. He’d almost called out to warn him.

“Almost.” That word would stay with him forever. He dropped his head, dark curls covering his face. Tears blinded his eyes. He couldn’t breathe. He didn’t budge as three more soldiers strode past.

“Serves the absurd knights right,” one of them chortled. “They should have surrendered. I wanted to give them the deaths they deserved. Slow and painful. Still, it’s a good thing our sergeant didn’t volunteer us for the front line. Did any of those fools survive?”

“Those fanatics? Not likely. They’ll have met the Warrior’s Death they always went on about. Better them than us.”

Tedric didn’t move until he could no longer hear them. His head felt light, the world distant. He ran up the hill. The green dragon the soldiers wore stuck in his mind.

Owakar knelt, crying, “Oh, J’shua.”

J’shua placed a gentle hand on the watcher’s shoulder.

“I understand.” Owakar continued to sob. “Please, I’ve heard enough.”

J’shua pointed toward the Shining Mountain. “First, we’ll go there.”

***

High above the burning school, Daikon Sylvanus Baxter, his knights, and students remained in hiding until after the soldiers left. Only then did he leave them and make his way down the mountain.

At a point where he could look down on the blazing buildings clearly, he encountered headmaster Daikon Theodomo Crispus sitting on a rock, eyes wet, staring at the inferno. He gasped when the wind changed and wafts of cooked flesh reached his perch on the mountain.

Crispus sobbed harder.

Baxter paused to rub his knee. His battle scars spoke to him on wintry days. “I saw smoke and soldiers leaving,” he panted. “What happened?”

Crispus paused before answering, his face taut, his wiry hands trembling in his lap. “Soldiers killed all twelve knights left below. I couldn’t see faces. I don’t yet know about the three boys. I should have helped them.” He dropped his head. “I feel like the coward Sisera that hid in the woman’s bedchamber—”

“How’d they die?” Baxter interrupted.

“A troop of soldiers arrived, led by ten horsemen. They made a cordon around the School. Then their leader put two dozen around the courtyard’s wall and sent two dozen more inside it. He and his horsemen followed.”

“We knew the Serpent’s forces might move against us.”

Crispus sighed, slumping forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “I saw soldiers moving through the woods. But…I had no way of getting word to Daikon Vale. There wasn’t time.” He ran a hand through his hair.

“Go on.”

“The officer rose in his stirrups, looking down at our brother daikon. His words did not carry to me. Vale signaled the others, who attacked with their swords before the hidden bowmen cut most of them down. With no other warning—”

“Then all you’d have done is die with them. How would that serve J’shua?” Baxter’s firm hands steadied his old friend.

“But…they…. And the three boys…”

“Did you see any get out?”

Crispus shook his head. “Too well hidden by brush out the back…maybe. I saw movement there. But…”

“Yes?”

“Cadet Knight Aldrik must have made the shot that set the gate afire.”

“I see. He served bravely. He was not one to run.”

“No, he wasn’t.”

“Our mission is to train knights. We don’t know why this occurred. The first question is how or if we respond. The Serpent may think he’s destroyed us. It would be foolish to show him otherwise. So…”

“Yes?” Crispus prompted.

“We cannot put out the fire and rebuild.”

Crispus nodded as Baxter sat with him in silence.

Bushes nearby rustled as a bedraggled cadet knight burst from them.

“Tedrik,” Crispus drew the boy into a hug. “It’s good to see you survived.”

“I…” The lad stepped clear and bowed to Daikon Baxter. “I am the only one. I—”

“There’s no need to explain,” Crispus consoled. “Would you do something for me?”

“Yes, Daikon!”

“Head up the mountain. Find the rest of us hidden there. Tell them they may come down, carefully. There may still be enemies watching. Go.”

As the cadet dashed off, Baxter observed his friend. “That was a kind thing to do. He needed purpose. We all do. This isn’t a time for ire and grief, but calm, clear thought. We must protect those we have left. As for our dead, though we mourn their loss, they sleep now. We’ll see them at the Gathering for J’shua’s Battle.”

Baxter sat, putting an arm around his friend. “We must have a plan before the others join us.”

Crispus wiped a sleeve across his face. “What are you thinking?”

Baxter smacked Crispus on the back. “I believe we shall continue to change the world one person at a time.”

Owakar stood. “I see the paradox of free will, J’shua. Thank you for this gift of understanding.” He bowed to J’shua Ha Mashiach.

“Remember, Owakar, you may never speak of their thoughts to anyone. Only actions can be used as evidence.”

Chapter 48

Gaelib

Earl Gaelib Melazera was enjoying the new year, which began two days ago, the new moon of early spring in the thirty-first year in the reign of King Edal. It would be the king’s last. An exceptionally cold winter with heavy snows had interfered with many of his plans. But Caileagh had predicted an early thaw. This time she was right. Gaelib laughed, bending over the secret message. Then he threw it into the brazier warming his tea.

Since the destruction of the Knights of J’shua, the messages from the west had only gotten better. In the aftermath of the Knights’ School fire, rumors of their faithlessness spread. Many people denounced their local daikons as untrustworthy and feckless. This would continue to send them into hiding. Without their meddling, the terror generated on the Mestel border would grow and cause more rash responses from local nobles. This time, it was a foolish baron who led a force across the border into Mestelina—ambushed and stripped of his weapons and horses, he walked back in disgrace.

It was utterly delicious. The outraged baron whipped up support for yet more troops on the border “to protect the people.”

The people! Phah!

Pouring himself another cup of wine, he began reading again. This was delicious. It was yet more evidence that, with the Warrior’s assistance, nothing was impossible for…King Gaelib the First.

Taelor

The Knights’ School was destroyed by the king’s soldiers.

Commander Peter Taelor sighed heavily as he read the decoded message. Licht Gegen had grown in the last year and a half. Slowly, the picture had become clearer and far more dire. He suspected some of the king’s soldiers were being used by the Order. Reports contained gaps. Expenses were higher than they should be. Finaly, intelligence from Bekh’s informers persuaded him to act.

Meanwhile, Earl Melazera, the royal steward continued to recommend more financial cuts. The latest was a decrease of the military garrisoned at High Keep since it was unlikely an enemy would attack High Keep. The king decreed that any soldiers with misdeeds and officers that had not risen in rank recently, would be sent to reinforce weaker garrisons or to the frontier.

When the king told him, Taelor was pleased. Key figures and entire military units had been used by the Order of the Black Robe to carry out covert operations contrary to Freislicht’s interests. To learn more, the Commander needed to reassign trusted officers to those unfaithful regiments to spy for him. This was the perfect excuse. He would send them in feigned disgrace.

The officers selected for the long mission waited at attention. They would infiltrate and gain intelligence. And when the time came, they’d be in place to protect the king and the realm.

He stood to address them. “Send your reports when you can safely with any herald. The virtue of His Majesty’s herald system remains untarnished.” Taelor smiled. “Enjoy your time role-playing, but not too much.” Then he scowled. “If you must do an evil deed to keep your disguise, do it. Don’t be afraid to burn down a home or give a beating to get the acceptance you need. The entire kingdom is at stake. Dismissed.”

Now, all he could do was wait. And pray.

***

It was finally spring in the thirty-first year of King Edal.

More reports from Commander Taelor’s planted officers began arriving as the weather warmed. As yet, he hadn’t identified the mastermind behind the secret organization using the Order of the Black Robe. Th actions and plots by those who were using Freislicht’s army for their own ends, were increasing.

In one such operation, a black-robe led a unit of soldiers disguised as Mestels. They attacked settlers yelling, “Hail Otual!” Burning crops and sometimes homes, they terrorized the people. Frightened nobles emptied their coffers to pay for an ever-larger army.

Why frame Otual as their leader?

Such actions would make it easier to isolate and capture Jonathan Otual.

How was he a threat to the Order of the Black Robe? Or was it personal revenge?

Commander Taelor pondered the report. “And your captain…” He glanced at the report. “Captain Fortuch, took you on an expedition into the Shining Mountains to find Otual or the Knights?” Taelor smirked, tossing the paper on the table. He studied the lieutenant before him.

“Sir, the Fellowship of the Knights of J’shua disbanded after their school burned down,” the soldier said.

What if that isn’t the case?

“Lieutenant, that’s what I read. Tell me what isn’t in the report. Give me all the details.”

“The captain had us follow every trail from the ruins, searching for any recent sign. Three teams followed different routes up the mountain. We found no trace of them.”

Taelor listened closely to the lieutenant’s report. This one was on leave and would return to Greysun’s garrison soon.

The leader of the Fellowship of Knights is shrewd. If they are still active, as I suspect, I must learn their intentions. They could be allies. At worst, Otual remains a distraction for Melazera.

Only last week, after a sighting of Otual in River Town, the Earl of Lorness had sent a squad to arrest the knight for treason. They’d failed.

He smiled at that thought.

Perhaps Mister Bekh knows how to reach the Knights.

Chapter 49

Owakar

It was the full moon of spring in the thirty-first year of King Edal, twelve moons as an apprentice watcher, unless he was removed today, he would now have the title of watcher.

Owakar gained a strong affinity for the remaining knights and students after experiencing their thoughts and feelings and those of the fallen three moons ago. The useless slaughter had sickened him. It was still vivid when it came to mind. He watched them as closely as he could and when anyone approached their mountain retreat, he sent guardians to determine if they were safe.

He enjoyed watching the knights teach and train their young charges. They did not force their ideas through pressure and rote repetition, rather they rewarded them for asking difficult questions. However, they did memorize most of the Writings. A very useful resource for the angels aiding them. It was easier to lead someone to a word of knowledge or wisdom if they could remind them of a passage from the Writings. The Writings all originated in the Book of Life and could be found in the luach. But the Book of Life was so much more—The Knowledge of the God of Truth.

Baxter

Daikon Baxter wondered how living secretly on the mountain would enable them to overcome the taint permeating the land. He could not see it, but the leading of the spirit was clear. After the burning of the School, the lowest peak of the Shining Mountains, Bowing Sister, had become home. A small plateau not visible from below, the area grew many wild foods amidst the woods like berries, vetches, and tender roots. Deep caves provided shelter, and springs formed small ponds. The higher mountains to the south protected it from cold winter winds.

The Knights eradicated every sign of their presence to foster the illusion that they had disbanded. From the newest student to the most experienced daikon, all came to learn, live, and move without leaving a trace. They became one with nature, as well-camouflaged as a mountain lion waiting to strike.

None had chosen to leave.

As summer came, young recruits arrived, accompanied by either a veteran knight or led there by the spirit. As always, all they needed was a sword, a dagger, and a sharp mind.

The structure of each day did not alter. Each morning, an hour of teaching from the Writings was followed by an hour of discussion on what they’d learned. Challenging physical conditioning, practice with dagger or sword, and tactics followed. But now they took meals atop Bowing Sister and slept in caves.

Baxter talked with Crispus often; each acted as confidant for the other. Between them, they came to realize that their war with corruption had changed. The burning of the School was a mistake. A mistake made by the Serpent. A mistake that had brought this covert war into the light.

Jonathan

Jonathan grumbled. The cross-country portion of his journey left him time to worry and complain. He forced himself to stop and pray. The nagging thoughts kept returning. Although many farms appeared along the way, he felt no call to go to any. Instead, he kept to himself and slept under the stars.

Sarah is eight now.

Why would J’shua withhold the information he so desperately needed. There was no question in his mind that the God of Truth and his son J’shua loved him and each of his family. But where was the benefit of keeping them separated.

He inhaled deeply and let all the breath out in a frustrated groan. There must be some mission unfolding that would become clear afterward. That was it. His wife’s voice came to mind, “We think we need it immediately. We need it when we need it. Be patient.”

In the morning he heard the still, small voice, It is time to go to the Knights School in Freislicht.

Chapter 50

Rebekah

Rebekah had been called to towns in the north and now that spring was upon them, the plow orders came pouring in. When Rebekah finally visited Fairness Crossing, she sought Simon Hunt, the herald’s assistant, who repeated the latest tales. The most recent of which was the burning of the Knights’ School in the winter caused by a spilled oil lamp.

She listened, lamented, and assented at all the right points, yet didn’t believe it. Nor could she accept Simon’s statement that it was a sign the Knights were no longer faithful to their god. She’d heard too many lies and  seen too many circles persecuted wherever the Earl of Lorness had influence.

Rebekah left to see the School. When she arrived there, it was worse than her imaginings. Nothing stood but the blackened stone wall and the tall chimney. They’d reduced the storehouse to a few heat-cracked bricks atop each other.

She frowned, her heart breaking, as she meandered through the burnt landscape. Dozens of grave markers littered the area; each constructed one at a time by someone different as family and friends came to confirm the tragedy. No two were alike. A wreathe of shriveled vines and berries covered a pile of flat rocks. Another pile surrounded a sword with only its pommel exposed. The most poignant was a raised circle that held a carved wooden doll and a dried-up rose. Her tears welled up.

So many bushy weeds had grown that it looked like a fairy garden. Green leafy vines climbed the scorched chimney. Grass obscured its foundations.

She prayed as she walked the previously well-kept grounds. Recently withered offerings of remembrance littered the hearth. She wasn’t the only one who’d come to say a prayer for them. Her only comfort came from knowing that their very next awareness would be J’shua’s open arms.

The Knights hadn’t tended to their dead. Did no one survive?

She sat on the soft grass covering the yard, wondering what might have happened. Then she thought of Jonathan’s stories about his training. She smiled as she recalled her favorite, the Tradition of the Kiss…

Knights would test their brides-to-be by hiking to a pair of rocks on the mountain that leaned together like lovers kissing. If the girl made it that far and the knight still wanted her, he’d propose. After being married to Jonathan, she’d learned it comforted a knight to know their woman was strong, especially as they might be parted for long periods.

Jonathan had already proposed, but she’d wanted to do it. They sat on the bank of the stream near her home, skipping stones across the water.

“I’ll be as tough as I need to be,” she’d told him as she threw another.

“I already know that,” he said with a chuckle.

“So, when do we leave?” She scooted closer.

Jonathan put his arm around her. “Do you want to spend the night on the mountain, or return that day?”

“Which means I’m tougher?”

“Both are difficult,” Jonathan said. Rebekah eyed him dubiously. He smiled and continued, “Starting from the School, if we spend the night, we’ll have to carry more gear but only walk ten miles each day. We can take a leisurely pace because we won’t have to worry about it getting dark. With packs, it will take about six hours to get there. If we come back on the same day, we’ll be able to get there in four hours, take a break for lunch and return before dark. But that is a twenty-mile hike.”

“I can do that,” she said. “I travel that much doing chores, often carrying quite a load.” Her hands sat firmly on her hips.

“I do not want it to be a chore.” He grinned. “I would enjoy spending the night on the mountain with you. That way, we can take our time. I can show you some survival craft along the way. You never know when you may find yourself on the mountain. I already know your strength.”

“So…you’re not entirely unobservant,” she teased, causing him to look off into the distance, trying to hide his flushed skin.

“My furlough is almost over. Let me speak to your father about it,” he said, then turned back to her. “Will he trust me to be alone with you?”

“He’s happier about our upcoming marriage than we are.” She’d laughed, pushing him, sending him on his way. “He didn’t like any of my previous suitors. You can do no wrong.”

She chuckled at the memory as the lonesome cry of a wolf brought her back to the present. It was near. She crouched, pulling her dagger, scanning for movement. Another beast howled farther in the distance.

A bush rustled, revealing a scarred maw only a few feet away, sniffing the air. Again, the other called, summoning his mate. The hundin stared straight at Rebekah, its long, lean body covered in scars. Blood matted the fur, leaking from an open wound. Growling once, the wild beast slinked away, howling to her mate.

Rebekah didn’t move a muscle.

Then their love calls sounded farther and farther away. Shakily, she dropped her knife back into its sheath.

After several calming breaths, Rebekah’s thoughts returned to the burned-out ruin before her.

If there were survivors, where are the daikons and students? They would not have given up. Are they on the mountain? It’s possible to live on the lowest peak, Bowing Sister, year-round. Jon told me that often enough.

Rebekah hiked toward the Kiss. Checking her pack, she had enough food and water, plus she knew there were suitable caves if she had to spend the night.

Wearing a linen shirt, loose breeches, and a woolen tunic tied by the sleeves around her waist, she kept a good, warming pace. Her dagger was in her belt, her bow and quiver over her shoulder beside her pack.

After an hour, the trees thinned. She glimpsed the Lone Soldier towering in the distance. From it, anyone could see all of Easy Slope, from its base to the Kneeling Queen’s Skirt. She sensed she was not alone. Am I being watched? Will they investigate?

Two hours later, she arrived at the Kneeling Queen’s Skirt, the wide ledge that spanned the northern face of Shining Mountain. She couldn’t resist checking out the caves Jonathan had told her about. He might be here, or there could be recent signs.

Her pace quickened.

The first cave she found was between the Watchers, a long cliff made up of tall stones, and the Kiss. It was only large enough for one person. From faint impressions on the dirt floor, she could make out the curve of someone’s back. Not recent, though. Disappointed, she searched for any stored items. Above a protruding rock, she found a rolled oilcloth containing thirty arrows. She knew the fletching. Her husband always made a twist in one feather.

Jon’s been here. When? From the pika scat, the nests of several litters, and a thick layer of dust, it was a year or more.

She put them back, sighing. She had plenty of arrows. Seeing evidence of him was bittersweet. Many long nights, they had talked as he fletched arrows in the firelight. But Freislicht was so vast, she’d no way to find him. And no way to find Sarah. She’d been searching for almost two years. Even though she had no evidence that her daughter was still alive, in her heart she was sure.

She left the small cave. Outside, the wind had changed. Rebekah considered staying there, to be somewhere Jonathan had been, but it was too early. Rubbing herself against the cold, she pulled on her wool tunic and followed the Skirt to the Kiss, where she scanned the eastern view to the Lone Soldier.

Cupping her hands around her mouth, she yelled toward the peak. “Daikon Crispus, are you still about?” Only silence answered her. Jon spoke of you often.

She sat, unwrapping a cloth package. The honey cakes were still moist and sweet. A nearby rabbit colony hopped about carelessly. There’s water and food aplenty for this time of year. She prepared a fire. Then she picked up her bow, chose her target, and loosed an arrow. She didn’t miss. A fat one. She set it close to the flames to sear and then moved it higher to cook more slowly. The smell of meat roasting made her mouth water.

The chickadees stopped singing. She inspected the horizon and called out, “I’d love to share a bit of rabbit with you.” With no answer, Rebekah bent to the spit, giving it another quarter turn. When well cooked, she moved it from the heat, sliced off a piece, and speared it. “Are you going to have some, or simply keep watching me?”

A knight stepped out from between the rocks, his silhouette familiar.

“Jon?” She smiled like the sun, almost rising, but as the knight came closer, her heart sank. The man’s unruly hair was white, not blond.

Though disappointed, she set a pleasant countenance. This could still bring news.

“Welcome to our mountain, sir.” The aged knight bowed.

“Thank you for joining me. The God of Truth bless you in the name of J’shua Ha Mashiach.” She offered the daikon her knife.

The old knight accepted it with a nod and squatted next to her. “What brings you to the mountain?” He cocked his head and ate the morsel off the blade. “You don’t look like a recruit. You’re a little too old,” the knight said as he chewed.

Rebekah chuckled. “I heard about the fire. Terrible, false tales are being told. I wanted to see that your good work continues. We need the Knights more than ever.”

He took another bite of the moist rabbit, sliced off another, and offered it back to her. “I’m Daikon Crispus. How can I help you?”

Her whole body relaxed. Accepting the meat, she ate it. “I…I need you…and can help you too.”

He sliced off two more pieces, keeping one, returning the knife with a slight smile. “How can I help you…and…what are you offering…madam?”

Not a disguise that could fool this old knight. Jon said Crispus walked by the spirit and was very wise.

She grinned. “I’m Rebekah Otual. It’s safer to travel as a man…and keeps the Serpent’s pawns from finding me and using me against Jonathan. Have you seen him?”

“Oh, you are Jon’s wife. A moon before the attack, he came and left you a letter. But it is gone now,” he said, pointing toward the ruins below. Then he stared at her—or rather, through or beyond her.

Jonathan had done that sometimes too. He’d said he was following a thread in the spirit.

“I am sorry, madam. I do not know where he is.”

She sighed. Then she took the blade, ate the rabbit, and cut two more strips, offering one to her guest. “My story begins with an unsuccessful debt collection. I escaped. My daughter did not, or so I thought. Yet, I’m unable to find her.” She could not hide the pain on her face.

Crispus patted her knee. “That tells me how I may help. Some messages still reach us from a few places. If we learn anything of your girl, we’ll pass it on. And if we find her, we will mount a rescue.” He ate the piece of meat she’d given him. “That doesn’t tell me how you can help me. Nor why you would need to. The Fellowship would assist you simply to ease your suffering. We require no recompense, never have.” He paused, unsheathing his knife. “Do you mind if we cut our own?”

“Please do.”

The daikon before her was a gentle old man who reminded her of her father. He was easy to talk to and more complex and astute than he appeared to be.

“I haven’t been idle since losing my daughter. I, and others, have contacted many circles.” She paused, considering how much to say and how to say it. “Together, we’re working against the evil ones. I won’t say how many or where because…”

“What are you comfortable sharing?” his gaze locked onto her face. A sliver of rabbit hung forgotten in his fingers. “J’shua provides what we each need when we ask and trust him.”

“Darkness permeates the land, like water dripping from a faulty cask. The Serpent’s blight is spreading. It’s impossible to know what it will corrupt next. Some people worship the ancient gods, the fallen archons.” Rebekah took a slow breath before continuing, “I believe these were behind the destruction of your School.”

Daikon Crispus eased back, his eyes clouding over as if beset by a sudden storm. “It seems we may be of service to each other.”

He looked at her. “Some information reaches us, but very little. We need to know what is happening and have no way to disseminate messages safely. Would you inform daikons and circle elders that we’re still training knights?”

“I’m happy to,” she said.

“We will pray for the return of your daughter and seek her.”

They continued talking as they ate. She told him of the child sacrifice and her group adopting orphans. He shared passages that reinforced her words:

[Defend the poor and fatherless: do justice to the afflicted and needy. Deliver them out of the hand of the wicked.]

“We’ll pray for you and Licht Gegen daily.” He paused. “What of your adopted ones? Might they desire to become knights? Are any twelve?”

“I don’t know their ages. My only interest had been that they were safe and being raised by believers. How should I send them so they don’t have to yell for you?” she grinned.

 “Have them come to the School’s ruins, then the Kiss.” The daikon laughed and rose to leave. “We’ll keep watch for them. If they sing, we’ll find them quicker.”

When they finished talking, she brushed the ashes out, then scattered leaves, removing all traces of her visit. Crispus arched his brows and nodded in approval.

Rebekah bowed. “Please tell Jonathan that I love him and long for him. But that, like him, the God of Truth has given me a mission. I know he is doing J’shua’s will and am confident in the promise that Sarah is safe. Although I pray for her swift return, the Father will bring us all together again in his time.”

Crispus bowed and walked up the mountain.

She held fast to the passage:

[My beloved brethren, be steadfast, unmovable, always abounding in the work of J’shua, forasmuch as ye know that your labor is not in vain.]

She knew what she must do.

I’m coming, baby.