Chapter Sixteen
Breath of Life
I tested the manacles that held my hands above my head in the darkened cell of the city’s dungeon. I wasn’t getting out of them that much was clear. There was a noise in the darkness that was more of a feeling than an audible noise and I knew that I was not alone. The hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up and I prayed for courage against the unknown presence in the dungeon. A normal sounding voice spoke up smoothly into the stillness of the room.
“Roric, son of Lorn, heir to a long line of proud men, if it was permitted us you would be dead now.”
A hideously scarred and burned face was suddenly within inches of my own. Part of me wanted to quiver upon seeing the unholy fire in the man’s eyes, but I was a child of the Creator and He was greater than this dark aberration that had once been a man.
“It must burn to have limitations placed on you. You would think that would tell you something,” I nonchalantly taunted.
The man creature growled and struck me across the face hard, but then quickly drew back from me as if he had seen something I hadn’t in the cell behind me worthy of causing fear.
“You won’t be so insolent tomorrow. We may not be directly allowed to end your miserable life, but there are other ways to stamp out an ant. I promise you that we will make your end as slow and painful as possible. You and your family have been a hindrance to our plans for a long time, but that will end with you, tomorrow. Your grandfather will be all alone then and he has grown old and feeble, as is the way of man.”
The figure turned away to melt into the shadows and I spoke out, “Whatever happened to that Marfoul fellow? He had the same idea concerning my extinction as you do, but it didn’t work out so well for him last time I checked.”
“He has been dealt with for his failure. It will not happen again.”
The last words were said in a half snarl and then it was gone and I was alone again. They weren’t allowed to kill me outright? I looked up, thinking that must be where the Creator was when you wanted to talk to Him, and then I realized my mistake. The Creator was everywhere, even here with me in this dark damp cell.
“If You’re not allowing them to kill me outright, how about loosing these manacles so I can get out of here and rescue Zarsha?”
Silence followed my suggestion to the Almighty. I waited and still nothing happened. I rattled the chains holding my arms above my head. They were still securely fastened. Either I didn’t have enough faith to get the job done or the heavenly answer was ‘no’ to my request.
My optimistic mood fell hard. I thought about it all, since I had plenty of spare time. Faith was a hard thing to understand. I knew the Creator could simply free me if He so chose. So why didn’t He? I believed He could and yet why didn’t He then reward my faith and just release me?
No answer came to ease my quandary of spirit. I was at least alive and unharmed. That was something; actually that was a lot more than could have been expected otherwise. I guess the Creator had other plans, which was disappointing to say the least.
I had liked my plan better than…well this stinking cell. The great unknown of what tomorrow would bring was not something I looked forward to either. I fought to quell the negative thoughts that poured into me at the thought of the evil tomorrow could bring. If the Creator was the God of today, then He was also the God of tomorrow and if He was preserving my life today, then perhaps He would preserve my life tomorrow as well. My resolve strengthened some, but I still felt like it would crumble at any moment.
My voice echoed slightly in the empty room, “Thy will be done, but I do ask this of You. Please help me rescue Zarsha and escape with her, Krista, and my uncle’s information to the Valley Lands. If your plans for me are different, then help me obey and fulfill them, even if it means losing my life. My life is yours to do with as You wish, but ………..” I stumbled to say the last part, “I don’t want to die yet. Especially when everything seems like it’s turning out for the better.”
My last words seemed to be a betrayal of my faith somehow. It was clear that I still did not trust the Creator with everything and the knowledge of that tormented me even more than the thought of what tomorrow would bring. There was little peace to be found in the wake of my empty words that lacked faith. No voice from heaven echoed in the cell informing me of how, or if, deliverance would come.
I sighed and hoped that there would be an answer tomorrow. The important thing though was that, despite my lack of faith, the Creator would not forsake me, but that was no guarantee that I wouldn’t die to this life in order to take part in the next. Would that be so bad anyway?
A Warrior's Redemption Page 48
