The Sword

by Bryan M. Litfin

  With great effort, Teo struggled to a sitting position. Ana helped him gain his feet. He was shaking, but he stood tall. “Deu is the Creator of everything,” he said. “We don’t fear you, nor your god.”

  The High Priestess’s lips curled into a haughty sneer. “Perhaps you should.” She snapped her fingers at the Vulkainians. “Take them to the cell,” she ordered, then faced Teo and Ana. “You may take some time to discuss my proposal. I will come soon for your answer.”

  The High Priestess handed the Sacred Writing to a eunuch, instructing him to read the marked portion. The stone weight was cut away from Teo’s ankle. Four Vulkainians led Teo and Ana to a bare cell with a high window and chains hanging from the wall. The eunuch read the story of Élie and the prophets of Baal aloud, then everyone left the room.

  Ana retrieved an earthenware jar from a corner and knelt beside Teo as he sat on the floor, his hands resting loosely in his lap. She put the jar to his lips, and he accepted it gratefully. After taking a long drink, he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall.

  “Ana, I have some sad news. Maurice has been taken into the arms of Deu. The High Priestess had him beaten to death. He died here in this cell with me.”

  “Oh! Oh!” Ana covered her face with her hands, overcome by the terrible swirl of events. “Not Maurice! Oh! It’s too much.” She wept softly.

  “Don’t despair. There was a death, but also a birth. The firmness of Maurice’s resolve . . . his absolute trust in Deu . . . his final admonitions to me . . .” Teo broke off. Ana looked at him as she knelt at his side. The expression on his face was different than any she had ever seen. His whole demeanor had changed, and even the darkness in the cell couldn’t hide it. “What is it?” she asked.

  “I’m on Deu’s path now. I always will be.”

  The revelation made Ana smile. “I knew you’d come to believe.”

  “I couldn’t have without your example.”

  Ana turned around and sat next to Teo against the wall. She caressed his hand. He intertwined his fingers with hers. They sat like that for a while, exchanging no words, since words would have been less eloquent than the intimacy they shared in silence.

  At last Ana sensed their time beginning to wane, so she addressed the matter at hand. “What should we do about the High Priestess? Should we accept her offer?”

  “Definitely. We’ve been praying for Deu to come to Chiveis. Now we’re going to see it happen in the most dramatic way possible.”

  “That’s what I was thinking, too. These events are a perfect answer to our prayers! Soon everyone will know who has true power in the world.”

  “The imprisonment between now and the solstice won’t be easy,” Teo warned. “It’s five weeks away.”

  “I can do it with Deu’s help. Perhaps they’ll let me stay in this cell with you.”

  Teo chuckled and shook his head. “I’ve never met a woman like you, Ana.” He squeezed her hand in his. “But I’m glad I did.”

  Approaching footsteps sounded outside the cell. When the High Priestess opened the door, Teo and Ana stood side by side. She stared at them with her arms folded across her chest, two Vulkainians flanking her. “Well? Have you made your decision? Do you agree to my proposal?”

  “We agree,” Ana said.

  “On one condition,” Teo added. Ana looked sharply at him.

  “You’re in no position to bargain, Captain.”

  “On the contrary, you’re in no position to refuse. You proposed the duel. Unless the condition is met, I won’t participate.”

  The High Priestess eyed him warily. “What do you want?”

  “Anastasia will not remain here. I alone will stay as surety for both of us.”

  “Teo, no! I want to stand with you!”

  The High Priestess shook her head and laughed. “I accept your condition, Captain Teofil. The deal is done. But be warned, my spies will be watching her. If she so much as breathes a word about Deu to anyone, the deal is off, and I’ll string you up for good this time.” She motioned toward the Vulkainians on her way out the door. “Guards, escort the girl to the gatehouse.”

  Ana turned to Teo, holding his face in her hands. “Why?”

  “It’s better this way. Trust me. The dungeon is no place for you.”

  Ana didn’t know what to say. She only knew she didn’t want to leave Teo behind.

  “Let’s go, woman!” one of the Vulkainians barked.

  “Take this,” Ana whispered urgently. Without letting the guards see her, she slipped a slender scroll tied with a red ribbon from her bosom. “I hid it near my heart for courage. You need it more than I do now! I’ll drop it on the ground behind you.”

  The guards were impatient. “Get the wench and let’s go!”

  Ana threw her arms around Teo’s body. She dropped the scroll just as a Vulkainian grabbed her elbow and hauled her toward the door.

  Teo stood in the middle of the cell, his head held high, like a statue carved from a piece of granite. “Be strong, Ana! Five weeks! I’ll see you in the coliseum in five weeks!”

  “I love you, Teo!”

  The door slammed shut.

  The Eternal One is my light and my salvation. Whom shall I fear? Ana knew Teo would need all the words of Deu’s twenty-seventh hymn in his lonely cell at the Temple of Astrebril.

  CHAPTER

  15

  Stratetix sat in a flower-strewn meadow, looking north toward the Maiden’s Valley. He imagined the journey through the Citadel’s wall at the valley’s mouth, then into Entrelac. There he could pick up a boat to cross the Tooner Sea, then follow the Farm River down to Edgeton. Home! He missed it badly. He missed his chalet at the center of town; he missed the fields whose dark soil he knew so well; he missed the public house where he would gather with his friends for an ale. Most of all, he missed his daughter. Stratetix’s enforced solitude at Obirhorn Lake was about to drive him crazy.

  Helena came to him from the cabin, carrying a small basket. She was the one bright spot in all their weeks of exile.

  “Let me guess—cheese and dried beef?” Stratetix’s tone was more sarcastic than he intended.

  Helena smiled as she sat down next to her husband. “Cheese and dried mutton. I like to change things around.” She held up a bottle. “And for even more variety, this water is from the southern side of the lake!”

  Stratetix glanced at Helena’s face. He wanted to continue in his self-pity, but she was looking at him with such a sparkle in her eye that he was forced to laugh. Her sweet spirit broke through his bitterness, and he rolled her flat on her back in the grass, resting above her on his forearm. “You’re a good woman,” he said. “Much more than I deserve.”

  “Every man should feel that way about his wife.” She kissed him as if to make sure he always would.

  Under the warm sun, the married couple shared a lunch of cheese, dried mutton, and south-shore water from Obirhorn Lake. No summer Stratetix could remember had ever started this way. No planning, no plowing, no planting—just he and his wife with nothing to do but talk to each other. In that regard, it had been nice. But he was growing restless.

  “I miss Ana,” he said.

  “Me too.” Helena reclined in the meadow, watching the puffy clouds float by. White mountain-star flowers surrounded her head like a halo. “She’s in good hands, though. My sister will take care of her.”

  “I wish Lewth would come with another report. He said everyone’s talking about the big duel. All of Chiveis is buzzing about it. I’d like to hear the latest news.”

  “What is it now—a week away?”

  “Eight days! Eight days until everything changes. Then we won’t be outcasts anymore.”

  “I wish I could be there to see it.” Helena smiled at the thought. “I’d like to be able to tell my grandchildren I was there when the realm bent the knee to Deu. The people are going to be surprised when they see his power!”

  Stratetix gazed at Helena, so confident and serene as sh
e lay there under the sun, her blonde hair splashed out in the grass. A spirit of fear descended on him. “What if Deu doesn’t win? What if he really is weaker than Astrebril?”

  Helena sat up on one elbow. “Are you having doubts, my love?”

  “Maybe. It’s just that so much is riding on this duel! Can we really believe the Sacred Writing is true? Can we expect Deu to be victorious over so strong a god as Astrebril?”

  “Of course! Don’t you see how he’s brought all these events together? First he brought us the book through Captain Teofil and Ana. Then he formed a community of his followers. And then he used Maurice’s testimony at Vingin to prepare the way—”

  “At the cost of his life.”

  “Yes, I know. It was a high cost indeed.” Helena sighed as a mournful expression darkened her face, but she gathered herself and continued, “When you look at the big picture, you can see how it all fits into a greater plan. That’s what we have to keep our eyes on, Stratetix, the greater plan. Deu will come to Chiveis in glory as he proves his awesome might. And he’s going to use our daughter to do it.”

  Stratetix nodded. “Ana has the strongest faith of us all.”

  “And the most courage.”

  “I wish Lewth would come back and tell me how she’s doing. I miss my Little Sweet so much!”

  “Lewth is busy with his new duties at the palace. He’ll come when he can. Until then, there’s nothing we can do.”

  “Yes, there is.”

  Helena met her husband’s eyes, waiting for him to speak.

  “We can pray.” And there on the grass, they did.

  “Your Highness? Are you listening to me?”

  “Huh? Oh, yes. Of course.”

  Lewth smiled at his student. “What did I just say?”

  “Uh, you were talking about the history of Chiveis. Jonluc Beaumont gave our kingdom its original name.”

  “And that name was?”

  Prince Piair II tapped his chin. He stared out the window. Finally he grinned. “You know what? A fly happened to buzz by my ear just as you said it. So I missed what you said. Could you repeat it?”

  Lewth narrowed his eyes. “Hmm. That’s funny, I didn’t see any fly.”

  “He was really small.” Piair fluttered his fingers past his ear. “Just buzzed right by.”

  Lewth knew they were both playing a game. It was the kind of game one had to play as the teacher of a teenaged crown prince. He shot Piair a displeased frown. “La Nouvelle Suisse.”

  “La Nouvelle Suisse!” Piair raised his forefinger in triumph. “I thought that’s what you said!”

  “That was the name Beaumont gave our kingdom, though it didn’t catch on among the peasants already living in these mountains. They kept calling it Chiveis until finally that became its true name. La Nouvelle Suisse was relegated to the history books as a piece of historical trivia to bore a young prince.”

  Piair smiled ruefully. “I’m sorry, Brother Lewth. I’m just a little distracted today.”

  “Something on your mind?” Lewth closed the history book he was holding and pulled up a chair next to the prince.

  “Oh, not really.” He shrugged. “Well, maybe there is. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about religion.”

  Religion? Lewth’s heart began to race. “That’s not your normal train of thought, Your Highness. Usually it’s hunting, tournaments, and politics.”

  “And girls. Don’t forget the girls.”

  Lewth rolled his eyes. “How could I forget that?”

  “Exactly! But here’s the thing, Brother Lewth. This duel has gotten me thinking. Maybe the gods really do matter—I mean, matter to me. I’ve always thought they offered nice rituals for the people to follow. But now that Habiloho has found religion, it seems like she has something I don’t. I wonder if I ought to pay more attention to the gods and stuff like that. You’re a monk of Astrebril. You must know what I’m talking about. What are your views about the gods?”

  Lewth swallowed and studied his feet. He decided to answer with a question of his own. “Why do you want to know about the gods?”

  Piair thought about it. “Not for the same reason as Habiloho. She wants to use the gods to get revenge. I don’t care about that. But I would like divine power in my life. I need a god on my side, a really strong one.”

  “What for?”

  “Well, you know, I’m going to rule Chiveis someday. I want to be a good king, like Father has been. I want the people to love me as much as they love him. It’s a big job being king! A god of my own would be a great help.”

  “Chiveis has a supreme god and the triad and many others. Is something wrong with them?” Lewth hoped he was steering the conversation in the right direction.

  “I suppose I could choose one of them. They’re each powerful in their own spheres. But I need power in many different areas. What I really need is a god who rules over everything.”

  Lewth saw his chance. “You know,” he said cautiously, “I think that’s what the Ancients claimed about their god, Deu. He’s the one who’s going to be tested in the duel.”

  Piair scoffed. “Habiloho says he’s weak. She says we’re going to see how powerless he is on the day of the duel.”

  “What if she’s wrong? What if he wins the duel?”

  The idea seemed to startle Piair. “Do you really think that could happen? Astrebril is the god of the dawn. You’ve seen his firebursts in the sky, his thunder, his curse on the houses of men! How could any god be stronger than that?”

  “Let’s just imagine Deu wins—what would you do?”

  Piair puffed his cheeks and blew out a breath. “I guess I’d be inclined to follow him. Do you know anything about Deu? Is he willing to share his power with mortals? I don’t know anything except his name.”

  Lewth stood up and went to the window. How much should I say? If word gets out that I’m a follower of Deu, I could lose everything! He turned toward the prince, who watched him with a bewildered expression. “You don’t have to decide your religious destiny right away, do you?” Lewth asked.

  “I suppose not.”

  “Then let’s see what happens at the duel. You can make your decision then.”

  As the sun came up, Teo knelt at the window and met its light, just as he’d done each day for the past five weeks. He communed with the true God of the dawn—not Astrebril, but Deu, the one to whom all things belonged.

  Teo untied the red string on the scroll Ana had given him. The parchment was ragged from heavy use. Each morning Teo had made it his habit to pray to Deu and meditate on a brief portion of Hymn 27. Today he focused on the last three verses:

  Do not deliver me to the good pleasure of my enemies;

  For false witnesses rise against me, and those who breathe only violence.

  Oh! What if I weren’t certain to see the Eternal One’s goodness in the land of the living?

  Hope in the Eternal One!

  Fortify yourself, and strengthen your heart!

  Hope in the Eternal One!

  Teo watched the sun’s rays illumine the Kingdom of Chiveis. The words he had just read seemed fitting for a day like this—the day of the duel. Courage would be needed, and faith.

  Over the past five weeks, Teo had rested and recovered his strength in the Temple of Astrebril. He had been moved from the dungeon to a better room, with a cot and a stool and a window looking out over the realm. Teo’s ravaged arms and shoulders improved over time, until finally he was able to exercise a few hours each day. Even the food wasn’t bad. Apparently the High Priestess didn’t want him looking weak in front of the crowd at the coliseum. She intended to defeat him at full strength. O Deu, Teo prayed, do not deliver me to the good pleasure of my enemy!

  Though Teo had been confident he could overcome the physical challenges of incarceration, he hadn’t been as certain about the mental aspects. During the first few weeks, his greatest torment was his profound grief at the death of Maurice. The gnawing pain of loss and anger was severe.
But to his surprise, the imprisonment began to have a purifying effect on Teo’s soul. The lonely cell gradually became his teacher. Teo had learned more about Deu in the past five weeks than in all his days of translating. Hymn 27 taught him well. Each word seemed to contain a fountain of truth and insight. But even beyond this, a mysterious spirit of holiness had taken up residence in the room. Teo could sense the unmistakable presence of Deu at his side during his solitary confinement. Now that the day of the great duel had arrived, he looked forward to seeing how the All-Creator would defeat the liar god.

  Keys jangled in the lock, then a servant entered carrying a ewer and bowl. Teo cleaned up with a piece of soap and shaved himself with a straight-edged razor. The servant left a bundle on the cot. When Teo opened it, he found a brand-new uniform of the Royal Guard’s Fifth Regiment. He donned the familiar woolen breeches, linen shirt, and leather jerkin, then laced up his boots and tucked the scroll of Deu in his pocket. Now he was ready.

  Four Vulkainians came for him, armed with their sprayers, though the men kept the weapons tucked into their holsters. Teo wondered if the guards would bind his hands, but they didn’t.

  “This way,” the sergeant said. None of the other men spoke.

  Teo was led to a horse, which he rode under armed escort down to the Troll’s Valley. There he was transferred to a carriage, its curtains drawn over the windows. A decanter of wine sat on the floor. Teo reached for a drink but thought better of it and decided to live with his thirst.

  After a long ride on the forest road, the sound of the carriage’s wheels changed. Teo realized he had arrived at the paved streets of the Citadel. He could hear people laughing and talking as they swarmed toward the gate in the great wall. Peeking out the window into the plaza, he caught a glimpse of the monumental statue of Jonluc Beaumont. Was it only last autumn that I rode through here on my way to the tournament? It seemed like many years ago; so much had happened since then. Teo winked at the statue of Chiveis’s glorious founder. The man who had brought Astrebril to the realm could never have envisioned the events that would transpire today!