“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.
