By the Sword (31 page)

As Ittonifer stalked toward Mote, the ground began to rumble. The earth split right in between Ittonifer and the cloaked men as the tremor continued.

Edandir
stood,
ready to run if he needed to.

Some of the Malinorian soldiers were running away.

“What are you doing? You have the enemy right in your grasp!”

The retreating men stopped when the earth before them opened up and blocked their path of escape. They scattered like a group of frightened mice.

Edandir nearly laughed at the ridiculous sight.

Quantity over quality.

With Ittonifer and the guards distracted by the chaos, Edandir got up and ran to Jalarn.

“Follow me.”

Jalarn shook his head. He got up and bolted toward Ittonifer, who still had his back turned away from them.

“No, Jalarn. Stop!” Edandir shouted.

The lad threw his entire weight into his uncle. Ittonifer stumbled toward the earth’s opening, but quickly stopped himself. He lunged at his nephew. With Jalarn’s hands still bound, he was at an obvious disadvantage.

Why had he done something so foolish?

Edandir raced toward them.

Ittonifer punched Jalarn in the face and pushed him over the edge of the great chasm.

No!

Ittonifer glared at Edandir for a moment with bloodshot eyes. Instead of driving his blade through the general, which he could have easily done, he turned and ran after his army.

Jalarn had been so close to accepting the Lord. After everything that Talya had been through for the lad’s sake, Ittonifer had seen to it that he would never know Jesus.

Edandir hung his head.

“I’m sorry,” said Edandir.

Edandir tried to shake off the melancholy that he felt for Jalarn. Talya was going to take his death badly. It was a tragedy, but Edandir had an army to lead.

Sanctus had the upper hand for the time being. Ittonifer’s men were scared silly from that earthquake.

“General!” called Tanel.

Edandir met Tanel at the base of the hill. The young archer used his sword to slice the thick rope that bound Edandir’s hands.

“Thank you.”

Edandir looked over his remaining army. They seemed every bit as passionate as they had been when they started early that morning.

Edandir raised his sword to the sky.

“Men and women of Sanctus, prepare for victory by God’s mighty hand! Do not lose faith, lest your enemy use it as a foothold. Declare the Scriptures as you fight.”

The archers and sword fighters cheered. They charged through the mud after the distracted Malinorians.

Ittonifer’s men were spooked by the earthquakes
for now, but it wouldn’t be long before they regained their confidence and fought back with a vengeance.

Chapter Twenty

The heavy rain had soaked through Queen Roselyn’s cloak by the time they reached General Edandir’s camp. Uittan had told her nothing the entire way there. They dismounted from their dragon steed, and she followed him into a small, white tent.

Inside was a girl, asleep on a thickly blanketed bed. Several bandages were bound tightly around her limbs. A surgeon was feeling her pulse.

Edandir nodded at Queen Roselyn and Uittan.

“Your Majesty. Prophet.”

“How is she?” asked Uittan.

“Her body has grown weaker every hour,” he said.

“Can we be alone with her for a moment?” asked Uittan.

The surgeon nodded solemnly and left the tent.

“Why, it’s Talya!” cried Queen Roselyn.

“She is the knight with whom I wanted to speak when I came to Sanctus with you. She has completed the mission that God called upon her to do, but at a great cost. If only I had been so faithful when I was that age.”

“Is she going to be alright?” asked Roselyn.

Uittan did not answer.

Roselyn felt guilty for hiding safely away in Sanctus while soldiers and knights far younger than she were risking their lives for their God and country. She hoped that Edandir’s daughter would pull through. He would be heartbroken a second time if Talya passed away.

Uittan placed the sack that he had been carrying at the foot of Talya’s bed. He laid his hand on her forehead and prayed in a tongue that Roselyn had never heard before. He did so for several minutes.

Roselyn knelt down, placed her hand on the girl’s shoulder, and prayed silently.

Uittan stopped and smiled at Roselyn.

“Thank you for praying with me,” he said.

“It is the least that I can do for her. I am her queen.”

“We must be off again.”

“Where are we going?”

“To the battle.”

*****

Jalarn stood alone in a world of black. He could not even see his hands when he held them right in front of his face.

“Jalarn…” hissed a familiar voice.

It didn’t seem smooth or hypnotic this time. Instead, it was hideous and chilling. It was the devil, and this time Jalarn knew exactly what he was.

Jalarn backed away from the voice, but it only came closer.

“Jalarn!” shouted the wretched, raspy voice.

I remember now.
Ittonifer threw me down that chasm. I am… I must be… dead?

This was it then. He would pay now for what he had done to so many innocent people, for not putting his faith in the Savior. It was over for him. He hoped that somehow he would have the strength to bear the agony and loneliness that he knew would torment him forever.

Forever. Oh my God! I am a fool.

Cold fingers clenched themselves around his arm, digging their sharp claws deep into his skin.

“Come with me. The master has been waiting for you.”

So, this is not the prince, then. I should have known.

Jalarn couldn’t see it, but he imagined that the thing, whatever he was, was ugly and decaying.

He felt hopeless.

“Who are you?”

“Surely you know. We were very close, you and I. I was the voice inside your head. Oh
yessss
. I occupied your young, strong body the day that the old warlock
anointed
you. We were one. The master had such high hopes for you. Pity. Though, you would have ended up here soon enough.”

The evil spirit broke into mad laughter then, sending a chill through to Jalarn’s soul. That’s all he was now. A soul. Hell had been waiting to rip him from his body all that time. His life had been such a waste.

The darkness never left, but scorching heat pressed into his body. They had to be standing at the outskirts of Sheol. Once they went through the gate, Jalarn knew that there was no going back. He wanted to fight the demon, but he was powerless. He could barely move. He felt so tired. He had never felt so weak in all of his life.

A deep voice from somewhere above sang a soft, sad tune. Jalarn could not understand the words, but he instantly knew who was singing it. Suffocating sadness burned him from the inside.

God had truly loved him. He had tugged on Talya’s heart to spare him in Hunter Forest. He had showed him the Bible verse in Talya’s scroll by turning it red. He had suffered for him on the cross. He had done all He could, but Jalarn still had not believed Him. It was too late.

The cry grew louder. Jalarn was sure that it had reached the depths of hell. Jesus had lost one of His beloved. The weeping didn’t stop.

The extent of what Jalarn had turned his back on hit him like a massive wave. This time, a loving voice whispered to him. Its closeness made him shake.

“
Oh, how I love you so, Jalarn.”

The holy presence left him faster than a whiplash. Jalarn was alone.

“I’m so, so very sorry.”

The hopelessness of eternal death began to encircle him.

Jalarn covered his face as he wept, trapped in his self-appointed everlasting prison.

The demon at Jalarn’s side cackled, digging his claws deeper into Jalarn’s arm.

No, no, no!

*****

The earth tremors had ceased. The Malinorians regrouped and charged back toward what remained of Sanctus’ army.

The former magicians, protected by the large crack in the earth, continued to shout out Scriptures from The Great Scroll. It was clearer than ever that God’s power was far stronger than the devil’s magic. It was the reassurance that Edandir’s people needed.

Edandir fought his way through ten more Malinorians and then caught a glimpse of Ittonifer. The man was stalking toward Tanel, whose back was turned. He was fending off two enemies with his sword. The young archer would not have a chance against a third swordsman, let alone an expert one.

Edandir raced toward Tanel until a heavyset Malinorian blocked his path.

“Tanel, look out behind you!” Edandir yelled.

Tanel spun around and blocked Ittonifer’s powerful strike.

“Lord, protect him.”

Edandir focused his attention back to finishing off the large Malinorian in front of him.

A dragon screeched from above the raging battle. Edandir squinted to make out who the two riders were. Uittan and Roselyn.

What is she doing here?

Edandir jabbed his enemy in the belly, sending him backward into the mud. He glanced back over to where Tanel and Ittonifer had been. Tanel was nowhere to be seen, but Ittonifer was on his way toward the place where Uittan and Roselyn had landed.

It had been many years since she had seen him, but Roselyn knew that it was he coming for her. She recognized his solid form and determined walk even in the thick mist. She had hoped that this day would never come, but it had.

Ittonifer was going to kill her.

She looked desperately at Uittan.

“Are we just going to stand here?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“But we are unarmed! He will kill us.”

She knew that he would. Killing was what Ittonifer did best. And there was nothing that he hated more than a traitor.

Ittonifer was still several paces away, but his booming voice rattled her.

“Roselyn!” called Ittonifer.

Roselyn cowered behind Uittan. She thought that she had finally overcome the fear that plagued her for so long, but she had been wrong.

“Do you honestly think that old man is going to protect you?”

The prophet took a step toward Ittonifer.

“Not by my own power, but by God’s.”

Ittonifer laughed hollowly.

“There is nothing that He can do that my lord’s power cannot do.”

“You are very wrong.”

Ittonifer glared menacingly at Roselyn. She backed up more, getting closer to the deep trench, while Uittan stepped forward still.

“
Trust in
Me
, daughter.”

But no one has ever hurt me in the way that Ittonifer has. Now he is here to kill me.

From across the depression in the earth, several cloaked men were shouting something. It sounded very familiar.

“A thousand shall fall at thy side and ten thousand at thy right hand, but it shall not come nigh thee.”

Roselyn had heard that verse from the Great Scroll many times, but its revelation hit her like a tidal wave as God spoke gently to her spirit.

“
Believe that I will deliver you. Trust in My strength, not in your own.
Fear not.”

Roselyn took a deep breath and then slowly took her place beside Uittan.

She faced her adversary as a strong queen should,
ignoring
her trembling legs. Along with the men, she began to quote the very same Scripture that the giant-slaying king of old had written of the Lord.

Uittan, who had been silently praying up until that point, joined in and shouted with a loud voice. If God had saved them from the wolves, surely He would protect them from the wicked ruler.

Ittonifer broke into a sprint, but the ground trembled and the air filled with the sound of drums and horns. Ittonifer stopped in his tracks and faced the direction of the noise.

It was the first time that Roselyn had seen him ignore an easy kill like that. She squinted and stared at the horizon. It was another army, but they were wearing green capes. Her heart raced.

“It’s Chira! They have come to help us!” she cried.

Ittonifer yelled in rage. The traitorous dogs from Chira raced into the sea of Malinorians. He should have never trusted that king. No matter. Their army was small. Two thousand extra enemies couldn’t defeat the imperial army.