the back of the saddle. He kicked hard into the animal and sent it galloping hard for the main road. If the two bowmen were the only soldier's left on his tail, he could at least draw them out of their cover.
No sooner had he come upon the main road than he saw two more riders emerge from the trees behind him on the highway. From the looks of them, his bowmen had now come out of hiding in full pursuit. With perhaps one hundred yards of distance between them, Gideon turned back on the riders and tore off towards them-all three men now in a hard gallop.
Gideon pulled the bow to him and an arrow from the quiver jostling on the back of his speeding horse. He kept an eye on both men-one released and arrow as he nocked his first. Gideon yanked the reins as he saw the man's fingers leave the string. The arrow sailed nearby his left shoulder.
Gideon pulled back on the string as the horse thundered beneath him, bringing the two bowmen near at a frightening pace. His target flinched on the reins, waiting for him to release. Gideon gripped the arrow tightly at the bow and plucked the string as though he had actually released. The horsemen reacted as Gideon had done only moments before, dodging to one side. In a heartbeat, Gideon led his target and let the arrow fly for real. It sank into the soldier's breastplate with a thud. The man fell sideways out of his saddle as his fellow carried on.
Gideon and the remaining soldier now had no time to fire arrows as they would come upon one another in moments. Gideon drew the sword attached to his saddle, a broad scimitar, as his opponent did the same. At the last moment, Gideon hopped up onto his saddle and somersaulted away toward the other rider. The soldier, bewilderment on his face, had no time to compensate for the attack as Gideon used the momentum to slam the scimitar down across the man's shoulder.
Gideon landed hard on the road, but he'd taken down all of his attackers. He took two of the horses with him and all of the weapons-food and water he could carry on the extra animal. His shoulder bothered him a bit after the fall, but he reckoned it a small price to pay for becoming better outfitted for his journey to Wayland's capital and their king.
COVETOUS
Ethan, Levi and Seth waited outside the King's bedchamber. It had been three hours since his collapse in the throne room. So far the King remained unconscious. 'I just don't understand it,' Ethan said. 'Those things were definitely demonic, although I haven't seen them before. But they were inside the throne itself and not the king.'
Levi looked up from where he a sat on an upholstered bench near the door. 'Can they possess someone that way?'
'Perhaps oppress might be a better word for what they were doing to the King,' Seth explained. 'I remember in the Word of Shaddai, of a king whom the Lord allowed to be oppressed by wicked spirits because of his disobedience to the commandments of the Lord.'
Ethan considered the matter. Seth's hypothesis seemed plausible. After all he'd experienced, almost anything seemed plausible.
Levi smiled, an epiphany lighting his face. 'And they were in Stephen's throne…they had proximity to the man…if that's necessary.'
Seth nodded in agreement.
'But why? Why oppress the King of Wayland when you're just going to attack?' Ethan asked. He was frustrated now. They'd been unable to rescue Gideon or Elspeth, after all this time, and now they had journeyed all the way through the Thornhills, finding the entire Temple destroyed and the surviving priests scattered. Topping it off, King Stephen had nearly had them killed under demonic oppression and Mordred's preparations for war made it an imminent probability that he would strike here at any time. 'We need some real answers so we can at least do something to fight back!'
Seth walked up behind Ethan and placed his hand on his shoulder. 'Sometimes, Ethan, the Lord would have his servants to wait, patiently, until he directs their movements. Perhaps we can find no course of action, at the moment, because we are not to take any course of action at the moment.'
Ethan sighed heavily, nodding. 'I know…you're right. That sounds just like something Gideon would have told me.'
Seth smiled. 'Then I'll take that as a compliment.'
A rush of footsteps came from the other side of the King's bedchamber door. The lock clicked and the door opened. One of the King's advisors stepped into the hallway, looking at each of them. 'The King would speak to the Deliverer of Shaddai alone,' he said.
When Ethan entered the bedchamber, Stephen lay on the bed covered in a thick comforter. He looked pale, though he was awake and alert. The King's other advisors and his personal physician vacated quietly as Ethan walked toward the end of the large bed.
Stephen looked at him with a glazed expression. Clearly the affects of the demons upon him had taken its toll. 'Come near, Deliverer of Shaddai,' he said-though he didn't sound respectful to the title when he said it. 'Your name is Ethan?'
Ethan gave a slight bow of his head. 'Yes, Your Highness. We met on the road as your army was leaving Emmanuel.'
Stephen smiled weakly. 'I remember it…vaguely.' He seemed to be examining Ethan, which made him feel uncomfortable, despite his bold assertions earlier in the throne room.
'You're just a boy,' Stephen said finally.'
Ethan wasn't quite sure how to answer this, or even if he was expected to.
'I cannot understand why the Creator of all things would choose a child to fight against a warlord such as Mordred.' Stephen laughed contemptuously to himself. 'While a king stands ready to do the Lord's bidding and fight to the death with Mordred and his demons, Shaddai nurses a babe for the task.'
Ethan knew Stephen was referring to himself as the king desiring to assume the duties of the Deliverer. He had made as much known to them already, when they met him dragging his army back to Wayland following their utter defeat at Emmanuel. But if the King had been under oppression by evil spirits at the time, this rebellion in his heart hadn't been caused by them. He was still wounded by Shaddai's denying him victory over Mordred then and now.
'I am what I am, Your Highness,' Ethan said. 'I did not choose to take on this responsibility or the power Shaddai has gifted to me. I am as bound to do his will as any man. Were it in my power, I would gladly bestow these abilities on the King. I find myself traveling a road I would never have chosen on my own. What else can I do but go patiently and trust the Lord to give the victory?'
'And do you have victory, Deliverer?' King Stephen sat up in his bed, his hands gripping the bedcovers tightly. 'When will we see this deliverance you bring? Today? Tomorrow? When will it come? My army has been decimated…and for what? We have no victory! Our women cry in the night for husbands who gave their lives trying to defeat Mordred. Children are left without their fathers! Men who went to their deaths to give us that victory!'
'On your orders, Your Highness, not Shaddai's,' Ethan said. His spine tingled the same way it had when he'd spoken in the throne room during the King's tirade. He'd spoken these words as though not under his own control, despite knowing how it would infuriate the king. And it did.
Stephen began screaming-enraged as though the demons still held sway over him. Ethan looked for more of the demons to make themselves known on the spiritual plane, but they did not. This was only the rebellion present in Stephen's heart making an appearance.
Ethan listened to it calmly, patiently. Stephen was practically slobbering out his threats against Ethan's life when his ministers came barreling back into the room, astonishment plastered on their faces. And then Stephen yelled at them also. 'Get him out of my sight!'
But none of the King's servants made any move towards Ethan. Instead, they looked at one another, then back at Ethan, not knowing what to do. Seth and Levi stood in the doorway as well. No one moved a muscle except
