The Soothsayer, page 16
He turned to see Helen direct several women to the triage tent. Her eyes held his momentarily, and she brought her hand to her bosom.
“Love you,” he mouthed, and she followed suit before leading Taran inside. A large brute of a man lumbered in after her, gasping and clutching his arm.
“Maker, we already have wounded,” Avery said and turned to inspect the stacked barricade growing near the gate’s base. Old wood beams had been hastily sharpened and placed amid sandbags, barrels, and crates. Workers rigged the pieces together with rope.
Avery saw the riggings tremble slightly as the percussion of drums and feet made their way up the stair. The gravel at the foot of the barricaded gate bounced across the cobblestone as the Amorites drew closer.
“Make the knots fast, boys. There’ll be no other shield for our people after this one,” Avery yelled. The men nodded and checked their work. The barricade formed a giant horseshoe facing the gate. Several spearmen stood across the space within, readying their weapons, while a score more stood on either side of the makeshift blockade. Archers now lined the high wall, standing next to the few watchmen who had left their eastern positions on the bulwarks.
Nearby, shop owners and townspeople held their homemade weapons with shaking hands. A few wore spare hauberks of Gilead or carried shields and swords. Both the old and the young, men and women, stood ready, fidgeting in armor they had never worn before, holding weapons they could barely use.
“Death! Death! Death!”
The guards’ weapons shook as the attackers’ voices echoed up the stair.
Avery could see the fear and uncertainty in the people’s eyes. He moved to them and called them into formation. “Steady up! Rows of seven all of you!” The people quickly moved into formation.
“Those of you wearing chest plates or pauldrons, keep your bindings tight! The last thing you want is to be tripped up during the battle.”
The soldiers nearby smirked as they watched the civilians struggle with their gear.
Avery shot them a sharp look, then continued, “I know many of you haven’t held a weapon; you may feel unqualified for it. But tonight is not a skirmish of mercenaries. It’s not a military exercise. We are fighting for our lives.”
Thum! Boom! Thum!
Avery continued speaking as he inspected the civilians. “I would gladly die defending any one of you. You’re the reason the rest of us go into service. You’re the heart of Gilead. Any professional soldier here would do well to remember that.” He glanced back to the guards, and they nodded as others turned to listen.
“Tonight, there is no difference between soldier and civilian, no rank between professional and novice. We are all brothers- and sisters-in-arms. These agents of destruction now on our shore would see your bones smashed into the ground; would see your children’s blood run in the streets! Our leaders have urged us to relinquish all that we hold dear to these savages in hopes of unification. They have stripped us of every asset and called us deplorable if we questioned them. They have sold us a false bill of sale for peace, at the cost of our souls. Is your life so dear, your peace so sweet, that you would trade it for chains?”
The people around him chanted “No!” as thunder rolled overhead.
Avery cried above the din, “They come now with their drums and spears, with their cries of death. The wail they will hear will be their own! We are battered and bruised, but we are not broken! Tonight, make THEM feel terror!”
Lightning arced across the sky, and Avery saw the people’s faces had turned from fear into anger. “Make the lightning of our glory sear their eyes! Make the thunder of our voices shatter their ears! Archers find your targets!”
The plaza echoed in unison as Avery led them in chant, “Gil-e-ad! Gil-e-ad! Gil-e-ad!”
Avery’s soldiers slammed their weapons on their shields. The people turned their formation to the gate as they answered the Amorite call with their chanting.
Thum! Boom!
But the drums faltered.
“They are at the gate!” the guards called down. “They stand uneasy!”
Silence fell upon the square for a moment. With his men, sword, and shield in hand, Avery took a position as the rain began to fall.
Boom! Boom! Boom! The savage drumbeat began again, echoing faster.
A fiery cauldron flew over the wall and exploded behind the barricade, sending soldiers running and screaming. The gates lurched forward as the Amorites pushed against them.
“Shields up!” Avery screamed. “Hold the line!” A shower of fiery arrows flew down into the plaza. The people screamed and ran for cover.
The battle for Gilead had begun.
chapter 30
The Second Gift
COLIN FELT THE RAIN SLUICE down and soak his shoulders as he watched the burgeoning mob in the courtyard clamor to cover themselves in the downpour. Only Samuel, standing next to him on the dais, seemed unfazed by the storm.
Colin searched the soothsayer’s eyes.
He can see. My God, the old man is looking at me.
Had Samuel seen the vision as well? Could he really calm the crowd? What words would be heard through their cries? Colin’s gaze swept across the screaming mob. How could people so easily forget what had happened? How could they fall so far? But he knew it wasn’t forgetting. It was not wanting to face it. They would rather smash their mirrors than look at themselves—and Samuel looked as fragile as glass as he faced them.
His voice could barely be heard over the crowd’s chants and screams. Before them, finally, was a face to put to the misery of the last few years—someone to be held accountable. The guards on the outskirts of the mob scoffed as they watched the old man trying to face the same rabble they could barely repress night after night.
Colin watched Mariselle laugh as the scene played out before her.
Samuel raised his hands to try to quiet the screams of vengeance before him. He looked down as they jeered at him.
Then with a quiet breath, he spoke: “Pacem.”
A gentle breeze went out from his lips and across the faces of the mob. Instantly they quieted. Colin wondered at it. The old man uttered the same voice that had breathed through Colin moments before. These words must be the Logos that Samuel had mentioned, but how and where this power manifested was still a mystery.
Mariselle glanced at her advisors, and they shook their heads, dumbfounded.
“People of Gilead!” Samuel began again. “I’m not your enemy. I’ve been given words, words you need to hear from the Maker himself. You’ve broken his laws and you suffer because of it,” his voice carried beyond the edge of the mob.
“We don’t care what you have to say scum!” a man called back from the crowd. “Don’t waste your breath on us with that Maker rubbish! We don’t give a rat’s ass for your opinion, much less a set of contrived commandments!”
“Yet you scream out for my blood?” Samuel asked. “You demand justice, a right to cancel out all the wrongs done to you?”
“You’re damn right!” the man screamed back.
“The same commandments that you mock are the foundation of the laws you demand to be enforced! Even if you tossed aside the laws, wouldn’t you still know the difference between what’s right and wrong? Wouldn’t you still want retribution if your neighbor stole from you?”
“Don’t try to spin our words! You three are responsible for all of this!” the man yelled. “You’re on trial, not us!”
Colin gazed at the agitator for a second. In the flash of an eye, he saw the man pickpocketing people in the mob during the commotion. Colin shook himself. The vision was over just as quickly as it had started. Something was happening to him.
Am I having an aneurysm? Did that happen?
Samuel glanced at Colin knowingly, then addressed his accuser. “Your name is Fergus. You’re desperate for gold to pay off those lenders; desperate to do it without your wife’s knowledge. So desperate, you stole from the pockets of those around you just moments ago.”
Colin’s mouth dropped. Is Samuel reading my mind? Or perhaps I’m reading his. How could we both share this knowledge?
Fergus’s eyes widened, and he began to back up. “What sorcerer are you? How do you know my name?” The people around him felt for their missing coin purses and grabbed him.
Samuel raised his hands. “Peace, please. The only power I have comes from the Maker. Enough blood has been spilled tonight.”
The mob pushed Fergus to the perimeter and left him while Samuel grasped Colin’s arm to steady himself. A silence settled over the people, and even the guards looked at Samuel in awe. The old soothsayer’s hands shook slightly as he leaned on his staff, ready to address them again.
Mariselle pushed past him. “I think we all know what is real. Real joy has come from the freedoms given to us by the Amorite teachings, not simple parlor tricks. Our inner truth gives us meaning. No matter the name it’s given in, no matter the god you worship, it makes no difference. We’re no longer enslaved by the old faith.”
Some in the crowd cheered. Others were quiet, less sure.
Samuel snorted. “So, you seek your own inner happiness without the Maker? With every prize you’ve attained, with every base action you’ve committed on yourselves and on each other, have you felt fulfilled? Have you felt contentment? Or like a thirsty man drinking from the sea, do you constantly crave more?”
The audience listened intently as Samuel continued. “The truth is that nothing in this world can satisfy you completely. You were not made for this world! You were made by the Maker as vessels of life. Without him, you are an urn of ashes.” He turned to face Mariselle. “Outwardly beautiful, but on the inside full of decay.”
Mariselle backed away.
“How dare you!” a woman yelled out. “Who are you to speak? If I love a man or a woman, what is it to you? My needs are my own! I was born the way I am, I shan’t be ashamed of it! If there is a Maker, he made me this way!”
The sight of the woman flashed another vision in Colin’s mind; she lay with man after man and woman after woman, drunk and delirious each night, alone and despondent each morning. The name Aiela appeared in his mind.
“Your name is Aiela,” Samuel replied. “You’ve had six lovers in the last two years, and you’ve left all of them. They promise you their hearts, but they trample on yours. You pour your life into each of them, and they take it, until you’ve nothing left to give. They’ve left you as an empty chalice, chipped and broken.”
The woman’s eyes welled with tears, and she turned away. Samuel rested his gaze on the rest of the mob. “You claim to be victims, but the truth is, you’ve all made choices in your lives that have changed you little by little. One mistake led to another, and the truth that you hold dear today was not the same truth as the day before. You’ve lost sight of the only beacon that can guide you in the storm. You’ve lost sight of the Logos. With each choice, you slowly spin the wheel of your life towards restoration or ruin, but make no mistake. You are always at the helm.”
Colin watched the crowd’s reaction. Something in the old man’s words had touched them. Their fists lowered, and their eyes searched inward.
Samuel continued, “I’m not a great man. I’m old, powerless, poor, and by all accounts, a lost cause, but still I see what you cannot. Twenty leagues from here is the ashen tree, where your ancestors murdered the man the Maker had sent. In that carnage, the Maker allowed your people to see how far they’d fallen from his laws and, at once, left you a message that was never relayed—until now.”
Samuel paused. Only the echo of the rain spoke out.
“Venia,” Colin said, and the word’s meaning finally became clear in his mind, two hands coming together, two frayed cords joining to become one.
Samuel nodded at him and called out, “You are pardoned.”
Mariselle grabbed Colin by the back of his neck and shoved him off the dais, sending him toppling twelve feet below.
“Enough! Is this a circus that we let the fools admonish us? You wanted justice for tonight, I give you your criminals!”
Some of the crowd began chanting again, but their voices were few and far between.
Colin picked himself up. His side had taken the impact, yet he felt like he had landed on feathers. He looked up at Samuel.
The prophet smiled at him. Mariselle motioned to her guards. The brutes grabbed Samuel’s arms, but the old man focused on Colin.
“You’re here for a reason, lad,” Samuel said. “I was wrong about you.”
“Your words. I saw them in my mind before you spoke. I saw something,” Colin replied. “What did you do to me?”
“Nothing, boy. The Maker’s power is sufficient, made perfect through suffering; so the Logos says.”
“Shut it!” a guard yelled and slapped Samuel. Blood ran from the old man’s nose, but he held Colin’s gaze. Two more guards pushed their way through the crowd toward Colin.
“No!” Colin shook his head at their approach. “Samuel, we can fight. Use your words to protect yourself. You’re the only guide these people have!”
“Not anymore. I pass that title to you. You are the last soothsayer.”
The guards pushed past the last of the crowd surrounding Colin and grabbed him from behind.
“The gods have indeed blessed us!” Mariselle laughed as she called to the masses. “Standing before you is the master orchestrator of your turmoil! A wretch whose dogged belief in a dead god has crippled the king and the kingdom! His words are empty; his lies to be pitied. Truly a wasted life.”
Samuel faced her, his eyes steel. “The words of the Maker are flawless, like silver purified in a crucible. They protect the needy that call out. They are a shield from the viper’s tongue.”
Mariselle glared and yelled over his voice to the crowd, “Even now you pause? You have been wronged! Take your justice! Claim them! Kill them both!”
Half the crowd pushed toward Samuel and Colin, swayed by Mariselle’s words, screaming for death. The other half held them back and pushed them away. To Colin’s eyes, it was as if two great waves had crashed against each other, struggling to turn the tide. Those in support of Colin and Samuel grabbed at the guards, while the angry grasped for Colin’s neck.
“Back off, the lot of you!” the guards holding Colin screamed at those lunging for him. Wherever their true loyalties lay, he could tell the guards were just striving to maintain some order in the chaos. They formed a tight circle around him, their eyes wide as the mob pushed them into a corner.
Mariselle spat at Samuel. “Where is your Maker? Call him this night, so my master may slay him! We will leave his body on the heap with your own! Let him behold the might of—”
Samuel raised his voice even louder: “His might breaks their teeth and rips out their fangs! Silentium!”
Thunder boomed overhead, and with another flash of lightning, Mariselle’s jaw shattered.
Blood poured from her mouth as her teeth fell to the ground at her feet. Her retinue screamed and ran from the dais as she fell to her knees, moaning. Her tongue went limp as bits of bone splayed across her hands. Her guards pulled her to her feet. One of her advisors grabbed a spear from a nearby soldier.
“Samuel!” Colin yelled. But it was too late. Mariselle’s counselor ran at the old soothsayer, piercing the spear into his back.
Colin screamed as Samuel fell off the dais and onto the ground at Colin’s feet.
“Samuel!” Colin collapsed beside the old man and held Samuel’s head as he felt the soothsayer’s blood run across his lap. “Samuel? Please . . .”
Samuel’s blank stare told him enough. The crowd around him was speechless.
Egan burst through the mob at the far edge of the courtyard as the crowd moved away from Samuel’s body and Colin’s kneeling figure. He glared at Mariselle.
“What evil is this! What have you done?” his voice echoed across the courtyard.
Mariselle motioned toward the chief warrant officer.
Two armed men rushed Egan. He unsheathed his sword. He ripped through their torsos with a flash of steel and moved forward. “People of Gilead, there is a traitor among us, and she stands before you! She has sold us to an army that now murders our men and women at the western gate. The Amorites now siege our walls! To arms! To arms!”
Mariselle held the remnants of her jaw, her gown stained by her blood. She stumbled as pain racked her body. Her eyes widened. She shrieked and pointed to Colin.
The mob was still for a moment. Then, in unison, attacked Mariselle’s men at the bottom of the dais. The soldiers nearest Colin cut down any who came within striking distance and pushed Colin back to the castle’s entrance way.
Colin turned to run, but two of the queen’s men tackled him to the ground and slammed their gauntleted fists into his face until he knew no more.
chapter 31
Korah’s Maw
COLIN SAT WITH HIS MOTHER at their coffee table in their kitchen. As he munched on toast, she slowly sipped coffee from her mug and sighed.
“You gotta be strong now, hon,” she said as she gazed at him. “They’ll eat you alive if you let them.”
A drop of water sliding down Colin’s cheek brought him back from the darkness and the dream. The clang of metal on metal was the first sound he heard in his daze. His body was still; his knees were pushed against his chest. His back was hunched against cold iron bars, bruised and spasming with pain. He felt the ground swaying back and forth like a ship on the sea. Blood running from his nose to his lips tasted of copper.
Slowly—it’ll hurt.
He opened his swollen eyes. Rusted metal bars filled his vision. Colin turned his head slightly and felt searing fire shoot across his neck and into his chest.
Where the hell did they put me?
He saw his prison was small enough to keep him from standing. The top of the cell was rounded, and the metal floor was flat; yet still, the sway told him terra firma wasn’t close. The drops of water landing on his face and the cool chill of the dark breeze whispered he was somewhere outdoors, not in the castle’s dungeon. The soft, steady rhythm of rain became clearer in his mind. It’s almost peaceful, Colin thought as he strained to look below him. If I could just be home enjoying it.
