Beyond the Fire Read online

  John summoned the messengers of Stonewall and made them available to each council member. By daylight, horses and riders were being ferried across the river. Each bore instructions to the communities to which they were being sent. Preparations were to be swift, for timing was essential.

  The council was about to adjourn when Master Devia rose and signaled his intention to speak. After the long night, his voice was shrill. “Gentlemen, you have made a serious mistake. The world is changing, and you don’t seem to care. Don’t you see that the Almighty One has empowered the Lord Jabin to unite our world, not destroy it? Our heavenly Father desires that all should become equal in this life. There should not be rich and poor, affluence and poverty, wealth and want. These things cause envy and strife. People attack each other in an attempt to attain things they do not have.”

  Seeing that he had everyone’s attention, he continued. “If you fight against the Lord Jabin, you may just find yourself fighting against the Divine One himself. I implore you; it may not be too late to avoid this disaster you have planned. The Lord Jabin, whom you describe as a tyrant, is doing the Holy One’s work by making peace through unity. He wants all men to have their own homes and their own jobs. Under his plans of expansion, there will be many new jobs created. The homeless will be housed, the oppressed will have justice, the weak will be made strong, and the proud will be humbled. Why would you fight against one with such noble designs for mankind?”

  John responded quietly. “There is no peace, except that which is found when we give ourselves to Jesus Christ. Avoiding war is a noble concept, but it is not the essence of true peace. Part of our calling in this life is to stand for truth, to fight injustice, and to protect the innocent. I appreciate your concern for Amity, but this is the path that most in this room feel is best for the people. Only our heavenly Father can determine the outcome, but for our part, we can place our trust and confidence in Him and ask that His will be done.”

  John watched Devia sadly turn to the messenger assigned to him and give his instructions. One by one the stewards of Amity bid John goodbye and gathered with those who had come with them, to begin their journey home. Not only were the men exhausted from the all-night debate but no one was certain how their decision would turn out. It was a very subdued group that left Stonewall that day.

  Greenwold cornered John Stafford. “Sir, I mean no disrespect, but I fear Devia will spill the beans to our enemies when he gets home. We’ll have no element of surprise.”

  “I understand what you are saying, George, but Master Devia doesn’t know everything,” John said softly. A sudden sadness filled his voice. “You know, I really think Devia believes Jabin is doing a good work. I don’t understand why he is so blind.”

  Later that afternoon, John moved through the crowd that had assembled on the watchtower. He took a position near the left side and leaned against the cool stone wall. From his vantage point he could barely make out the ferries below, but he knew they were transporting men from Sebring to Stonewall and then to Waterfront. It was going as well as he could expect. With great interest, he watched as men hugged their families goodbye. Long rows of men issued from Sebring’s armory; all were helmed in black with a sword by their side. All carried a shield in one hand, and most carried a spear in the other.

  We might have a chance, he thought, and he hoped the cost wouldn’t be too high. John tried to put himself in these men’s shoes. Green Meadow was nothing more than the name of a town to most. Though Sebring was a large city and goods came to her from both the river and the sea, most of her people did not travel beyond the city limits.

  There were notable exceptions. Rolph Gammel, the captain of his own merchant ship, was now a squadron commander. He had traveled a great deal and had experienced many adventures firsthand.

  A swift movement caught John’s eye. On the narrow streets of Sebring, a young woman dashed toward the departing tug, waving her arms and shouting wildly. Though the tug was already several feet from shore, the girl raced without hesitation toward the departing structure and leaped with all her might. Strong hands caught Katherine Gammel before she hit the water, and they were rewarded with a curtsy and a smile, which melted every heart on the ferry.

  John smiled. Philip must be on the embankments of Stonewall, waiting. Had Katherine only known, she would not have had to hurry so quickly. Philip was not marching west today, for John had placed him in charge of Stonewall until this mess was over.

  That decision had created a firestorm at the council last night. Many felt that Philip was merely a lad with no experience. Others felt that he was all schoolboy and no guts. Though words like wimp and ninny were left unsaid, they were strongly implied. It hurt John to think that people felt this way about his youngest son, but he was confident that Philip would prove them wrong.

  John turned and descended the watchtower’s long flight of stairs. He walked briskly to the stables to prepare his horse and then proceeded to Stonewall’s armory. There he found his own men busy getting ready. Their faces brightened, and they snapped to attention as he entered. “At ease,” he called, and each man returned to his tasks.

  John selected his armor. He had no special weapons, and he preferred it that way. He claimed one special horse, but otherwise he was only a soldier of Amity. He packed his gear while listening to the general chatter of his men. It was rather subdued. He had hoped the men would take this task seriously, and they did.

  Strapping on his weapons and hoisting his knapsack, John strode outside into the late afternoon sun. He was headed back to the stables to collect his horse when he spied Philip and Katherine walking hand in hand across Stonewall’s courtyard. When Katherine saw John, she dropped Philip’s hand and stepped behind him, but not too far.

  “Father!” Philip said when the three met in the courtyard. “Won’t you reconsider and let me go in your place? It is I and not you who should ride to war. You should stay here and govern Amity in her hour of peril.”

  Ignoring Philip’s question, John leaned round his son to wink at Katherine. “It is always good to see you, young lady.”

  A happy smile brightened Katherine’s face, and she curtsied low. “Thank you, my lord.”

  Feeling suddenly young again, John grinned and turned back to his son. “Now, what is all this noise about? I’ve given an order, and I expect it to be obeyed.”

  “But I am no leader,” Philip protested.

  “You underestimate yourself, Son,” John said, gripping Philip’s shoulders in his big hands. “You are intelligent, and you surround yourself with wise friends. A capable man needs only a test in order to be proven. This is your test. I know you will do well.”

  “But … Father!”

  “No buts! I expect you to stay here and assist people in any way you can. You are to maintain order if possible. I expect suffering will come to all, and I know of no one with more compassion for humankind than you. You will do an excellent job. Simply remember others. The greatest burden of leadership is that you must fight for others rather than yourself. You must never use the position of leadership to gain for yourself power or prestige. Now, are you ready to assume your position?”

  “Very well,” Philip sighed. “I will submit to your will, though I would rather march west with the men.”

  “So would I,” John laughed. “Someone has to stay, and this task is best served by you!”

  Turning to Katherine, John asked, “Will you watch us assemble?”

  Eyes sparkling, Katherine nodded with such vigor that auburn hair swirled about her face. Brushing aside rebellious strands from her dark eyes, she asked, “May I?”

  “Certainly!” John exclaimed and pointed to the watchtower. “Philip can take you up there where you can see everything and everyone assembling across the river.” Turning to Philip, he said, “You will do that for me, won’t you?”

  Philip laughed. “Between the two of you, I do
n’t have a choice.”

  John grew suddenly serious. “Philip,” he said in a low voice, “not all counsel is good. Choose carefully to whom you listen. We have already spoken at some length about different policies you might employ. Do you have any questions?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Base your decisions on good counsel, the Holy Writings, and common sense. Some distraction is healthy, Philip, but beware of too much.” John tipped his head and winked in Katherine’s direction, causing the poor girl to blush a deep shade of red.

  John suddenly wanted his family to know he cared for them. Impulsively, he grabbed both Philip and Katherine, pulling them close. “Come with me to the stables, and then you can climb the tower.” Striding toward the stables with Katherine on one side and Philip on the other, he sighed. “I’m so glad to have you both here.”

  Upon reaching the stables, John parted company with them for a moment, and on his return he led a dark-gray gelding. Though the mount was gentle, a fire still smoldered in his eye.

  The three walked in silence to the foot of the watchtower. Standing in the shade of a great oak tree, they watched the movement all around them. Men from Sebring streamed through the southern gate of Stonewall and marched out the northern gate to be ferried to Waterfront.

  They heard a trumpet blast and turned to watch the men of Stonewall gather and then march to the ferry.

  John turned to Philip. “I leave you five hundred men for your defense, Son. I pray you will not need them. We do not know the future, but these are good men, and they will serve you well.” Stepping out of the shade and into the late afternoon sun, John turned and said, “Now I must go. Climb the stairs and witness the mustering of Amity. I pray the Lord Almighty will guide your steps!” He turned, led his horse swiftly toward the ferry, and never looked back.

  The Greenway was already crowded, and yet more men poured onto the rutted pathway. John pushed his way through the crowd toward a small, flat-topped building. Handing his horse’s reins to a lad nearby, he found a ladder and climbed to the top of the building. He had a good vantage point and could see the gathering quite well. Signaling to a man below, a trumpet sounded, and the gathering grew quiet.

  John raised his hand and began to speak. “Today marks a new chapter in our lives as we seek to defend our freedom in the face of tyranny. No one who sets foot on this path will remain the same.

  “Join me as we yield ourselves to the Lord in prayer. Our heavenly Father, take notice of these, Your people. Forgive us our sins, and empower us to march forward in the strength of Your Spirit. Become our shield and our protection. Guide us with wisdom, and guard us from all enemies of truth and justice. Whether we live or die, allow us to glorify Your name. We pray these things in Jesus’s most holy name, amen.”

  John turned to address the women and children gathered near the road. “To you I give a difficult assignment: trust God, wait, and pray! There is no armed soldier on any battlefield as loathsome or dangerous as the demon of fear. He will haunt you and attack you at the least expected moment, but you must conquer him. And when you have conquered him twenty times, he will come at you again. He can be beaten, but only through the power of prayer and by trusting in the Lord who reigns on high.

  “Pray always for your men. They will advance on foot, but you must advance on your knees. Your prayers will release the power of the Almighty upon the battlefield. So again I charge you to keep the faith. Wait and pray.”

  At John’s signal, three sharp blasts from a trumpet transformed the men standing casually in the road into rows and rows of black helms and shields. For a few moments, John marveled at the sight of six thousand men standing shoulder to shoulder. Ten abreast, the rows of men stretched a long way in both directions down the Greenway. For one fleeting moment, a sense of power surged through John’s veins, but the words of Master Devia brought him quickly to his senses. It is a heady feeling to be in command of a large host of soldiers.

  Descending the ladder, John saw a tearful young woman holding an infant and restraining a toddler. Though the girl was trying to look brave, it was clear that her heart was breaking.

  John’s shoulders drooped, and a great heaviness fell upon his soul. Taking the reins from the lad who held his horse, John swung astride the great gelding. Making his way to the front of the line, he raised his spear and shouted with a fierceness he did not feel, “To victory!”

  A great shout rose behind him as soldiers and families alike echoed the call: “To victory!” With the shout came a cadence call, and men began the long march to Green Meadow. Stepping in time, row upon row of men marched west into a beautiful sunset on the last day of peace in Amity.

  CHAPTER 10

  Call to Arms

  It was still dark when Bill awoke. Mary had suddenly gone rigid in the bed beside him. Help, Lord! he prayed silently. He reached for his wife, and her skin felt cold and clammy. His heart hammered in his chest, and his voice cracked as he called, “Mary, wake up!”

  Mary groaned, and as she opened a glassy eye, her face contorted with fear. Seeing Bill, she screamed, “No! Don’t kill me!”

  Bill was frantic by now. “Mary! Mary, wake up!” He shook her more vigorously.

  The fear slowly passed from Mary’s face as recognition took its place. “Bill!” she gasped. “What’s wrong? I’ve never seen you so pale.”

  “Are you all right?” Bill asked cautiously.

  “I guess so. Why?” Mary asked.

  “You screamed. Were you having a nightmare?”

  Mary closed her eyes and suddenly began to tremble. “Yes,” she whispered. “I was with Mother, and I was in terrible pain. There was no one to help, and I felt so alone. We were at Mother’s place, and we heard someone break into the store downstairs.”

  “What happened?” Bill asked.

  “Mother and I were hiding upstairs, trying to be quiet, when I felt this terrible pain, and I screamed. That may be what woke you.”

  “Do you remember any more of the dream?”

  “We heard a boot scrape on the stairs, and I felt someone grab my shoulder. I was so afraid, Bill!”

  Bill began to breathe again. He drew the slender woman into his arms and held her tight. “I grabbed your shoulder, Mary,” he whispered. “It was only a dream. You are safe here at home with me.”

  Mary buried her head in Bill’s embrace, and the two were silent for some time. Her trembling body began to calm. Suddenly, she pulled from his arms and turned her tear-filled eyes toward him. “Bill, you won’t really leave me, will you?”

  Bill let out a long sigh and studied his wife, trying to determine the right words to say. “Even if there is a call to arms, I don’t think they will take everyone. I may be chosen to stay here.”

  “You might not have to leave?” Hope lifted her spirits and added sparkle to her voice. “Oh, Bill, that would be wonderful!”

  “There is a rumor that Master Johnson will leave some men here for the city’s protection.”

  “Oh, I hope you can stay.” Mary sighed, snuggling deeper into Bill’s embrace. They lay in each other’s arms until morning’s light softened the deep shadows in the room. The half-drawn curtain became visible along with the footboard of their bed.

  Bill and Mary’s bed was one of the few “nice” items in their house. It was old, having been a wedding gift from Mary’s grandmother Trumbell. It had four huge corner posts and heavy lumber connecting the head to the foot. The head and foot were huge planks, carefully carved with scenes of Amity’s past. In one scene, a preacher was speaking from a pulpit. The next scene showed guards leading him away, and the next showed the same man in prison. The scenes continued until the final one showed a crown placed on the preacher’s head.

  Bill had fallen in love with the heirloom the moment he had seen it, so he was thrilled when Mary’s aging grandmother had given it to them as a wedding present. Mar
y thought the bed was grotesque. She had covered the head and foot with quilts to hide the hideous little creatures who suffered hunger, thirst, and even death. It had remained covered until yesterday.

  For some strange reason, she had pulled the quilts from the headboard and had begun to study the carvings carefully. Scene by scene, the story of Amity had begun to wrap itself around her, and strangely, it gave her comfort during the long afternoon while Bill was away in town. One scene troubled her because she couldn’t remember it in the story: the crowning of the preacher. What did that mean?

  She noticed the tiny figures in the growing morning light and suddenly stirred. “Bill, what does the crown on the preacher mean?”

  Unaware of her thoughts, Bill stirred and looked at Mary. “What are you talking about?”

  “The figures on our headboard, silly!” Mary teased, pointing at the tiny figures carved into the headboard. “Josiah Stafford was never crowned king, though his family has continued to live at Stonewall all these years.”

  Bill turned to look at the headboard. It was the first time he realized it had been uncovered. A slow smile spread across his face, and he asked, “Why the sudden interest?”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” Mary tried to sound flippant. “I was just thinking about it yesterday.”

  Bill pondered it carefully and then responded, “Well, some feel the story is not over and that one day a man not unlike Josiah Stafford will be crowned king.”

  Though that did not answer all her questions, Mary decided to change the subject, and she clambered from bed to prepare breakfast and pack for her move into town.

  The day was still very young when they heard the galloping of horses on the Greenway. Hurrying to the door, Bill watched as several messengers from the Stonewall livery pounded away to the west. Though neither he nor Mary spoke of the riders, tension grew between them until they nearly had a spat over whether to take Mary’s mixing bowl. Mary finally relented, saying, “I know Mother has everything I really need. These will be here when I return.”