we’ll see you in the Kingdom of Shaddai when life’s journey is over.”
Joseph and Levi both carried saddlebags with enough provisions to get the sea captain started on his journey. Besides that though, the bags were heavy with gold, which Isaiah had given to Bonifast to aid him in his journey and to procure the necessary materials and crew for his new ship awaiting his arrival at the fishing village of Hopple.
He kept this part of his leaving from both Gideon and Ethan. Isaiah did not want them to worry about him or become distracted by the knowledge that the sea captain was working for The Order. And when it came time to choose someone for the mission of escorting the Word to the Isle of Macedon, Isaiah did not want Gideon or Ethan to insinuate themselves, knowing they would be sailing with Bonifast. Because it pleased Isaiah, Levi honored this request.
“We’ll be seein ya, boys!” Levi said. He turned and followed Joseph the priest along the winding corridor which would take them to an intersecting point with the river running down the mountain. Ethan watched until the two men were out of sight and then he joined Gideon at the stone railing.
The balcony overlooked the entire gorge below. They stood at the top of the cylindrical wall built by The Order-over a thousand feet in height. Just above them, it opened up and the clouds hung almost low enough to touch. They were completely hidden from the outside world.
“Well, that’s that,” Ethan said. “I’m going to miss him.”
“He’s a good friend-a good man.”
“Do you really think we’ll see him again?”
“Only Shaddai knows,” Gideon said. He paused. “I hope we will. In the meantime, you’ve got training to tend to, and there’s no time like the present to begin. Let’s have a race back down to the courtyard. Pacing will win out in this one!”
Gideon shot away with Ethan quickly falling in behind his mentor, smiling all the way.
Hevas Rommil gazed out his window at the docks beyond. The burly Wraith General sipped on a cup of wine as he watched the galleon, bearing their emissary to Millertown in Nod, follow the setting sun toward the distant horizon. He had baited the trap, but Hevas wondered how successful this plan would actually be.
It was Lord Mordred’s intent to draw the boy with a plea for the Word in the Isle of Macedon. Hevas had been the Wraith General responsible for eliminating the Word in this island, and it seemed ridiculous to seek it again. But as Mordred’s messenger had said, “This is only a ploy to destroy the Deliverer.”
It had been nearly a month since word had come to Hevas of his twin brother’s death at the hands of the Deliverer. He had died in defense of Lord Mordred and had taken the blow meant for him there in the throne room of Emmanuel Palace. His brother had always been a brave man and a cunning warrior. Hevas missed him.
Rommil did not know whether this plan would actually draw the boy out of the Temple, but he certainly hoped. He longed to destroy the boy with his own hands. If he got a hold of the Deliverer, he would make him regret ever spilling the blood of a Rommil.
“You may carry word back to our lord, Mordred. The emissary is on his way to Millertown,” Hevas said. “Once he arrives, he will dispatch a message to the Temple desiring the Word to be carried to Macedon.”
“Very good, Rommil,” Jericho said. “Your brother would be proud.”
Rommil turned sharply at the mention of his brother. “Lord Jericho, I want to be the one to kill the boy, if and when he should arrive here on Macedon.”
“I can understand your desire to avenge your brother, Hevas,” Jericho said, emerging from the shadows to pass through a chair. “But we must be patient. It is not certain the boy will be the one to bear the Word to Macedon. Isaiah might very well send someone more qualified and experienced for this journey. After all, it would be risky to send the boy outside of the borders of Nod, even for such a noble task.”
Rommil considered it. “Then why do we bother baiting this trap? Surely, their High Priest will want to keep the boy hidden from us. The Temple is impenetrable while Shaddai’s angels protect it. Isaiah will never send the boy away from the one place where he is safe.”
Jericho smiled as he watched the setting sun and the silhouette of the galleon on the horizon. “If I have anything to say about it, Isaiah will soon realize that not even the Temple itself will be a safe haven for the Deliverer.”
ROYAL EMISSARY
It had been almost four months since Sarah had watched Gideon depart for the Temple with his new companions. She had watched her secret husband leaving, yet again, through her tears. When would she have him to herself as she longed to? Gideon had still not given her a certain answer.
Often, she wondered why she had accepted his proposal. It was part of the vow of a priest of Shaddai to remain unmarried, not that Shaddai forbade marriage, but because of the complete separation of The Order. They required it and Gideon had sworn himself to it as a child.
Sarah had not asked for his love, but now she could not live without it. Gideon meant to leave The Order someday by his own admission. But she was beginning to wonder if the day would ever come when he actually performed the deed. The appearance of the Deliverer would only complicate his decision further.
Sarah crossed the street, heading for the physician’s office two buildings down from the Willow Tree Inn. Mr. Hobb was the Healer in Millertown-a lithe man of nearly fifty years with wire-rimmed glasses and a white receding hairline. Hobb was ever kind and well versed in the medical arts.
Hobb had a simple place for his office since most of his work occurred in the homes of his patients at their bedsides. He did have a room in the back where he performed complex procedures, but usually it went unused. As payment for his services, Hobb would readily accept livestock or vegetables from someone’s garden and sometimes even nothing at all. Many wondered how he managed to survive on his meager wages, but what had not been well known was Hobb’s silent partnership in the Willow Tree Inn with Mr. Oggle.
Sarah looked this way and that, before entering Hobb’s office. She did not wish to be conspicuous. In a small place like Millertown, a visit to the Healer could quickly run the grape vine and subject one to all manner of questions and rumors.
Had it not been for the regularity of her nausea, Sarah might not have come at all. But she feared the plague which had taken several people’s lives in the past year. If she had any such disease, she might never see Gideon before he came back from The Order on another mission.
“Good day to you, Sarah,” Hobbs said as he met her at the door. She rushed inside and he shut the door behind her. “What’s the matter my dear, not feeling well?” he asked with a quirky smile.
“I’ve been ill almost every day for weeks now, Mr. Hobbs. I’m afraid I might have the plague or something equally horrible.”
Hobbs regarded the young maiden, smirking slightly before asking her to come into the back room. Sarah wondered why he didn’t look as worried about her condition as she might have supposed he should.
When Sarah emerged from the office of Mr. Hobb’s, she was at least as frightened about her condition as she had been when she entered two hours earlier. However, fear now mingled with new joy she wanted desperately to share with her husband.
A procession of some sort made its way into the middle of town, creating a great deal of noise. A covered carriage lumbered through the street pulled by a team of black mares with an armed military escort before and behind it.
Sarah had never seen anything like it entering her small town. Compared with the usual travelers, this person might as well have been a king for all of the fuss made. Children ran into the street, trotting along beside the soldiers and the carriage while Sarah stood watching with other bystanders on the wooden boardwalk stretching before the shops and businesses. The carriage, with its entourage, stopped when it reached the Willow Tree Inn. Mr. Oggle and Blane waited at the door, intending to greet this person when they disembarked.
Not having anyone she could share her own news with now, Sarah walked across the street. Something of this magnitude was simply too good to pass on. She mingled with the small crowd, trying to get closer to the
