Beyond the Fire Page 9

  “Would those prisons be designed strictly for criminals, or would those who disagreed with the central government be confined there as well?” An unfamiliar voice posed the question from the far side of the room.

  Devia craned his neck to see who had spoken. Seeing Philip Stafford step from the shadows, he smiled. “Here is a clever young man. However, your concept of this new government is misconstrued. This will be a fair, equitable, and just governing body. Few, if any, would find reason to disagree with its policies or principles. I suppose those who did would be dealt with, for it is in such disharmony of thought that rebellion and war is created.”

  “I credit you, Master Devia,” John spoke up. “You seem genuine in your desire to avoid war. But the price of peace seems very high.” He looked about the room. “Are there any other questions for Master Devia? If not, I would like to retell a story familiar to you all.”

  Devia had settled into his chair with a satisfied smile on his face, but at John’s request to tell a story, he leaped to his feet. “You want to tell a story. We haven’t time for that! I didn’t come all this way to hear a story, especially one I already know!”

  “Aw, come on, Devia!” The protest surprised everyone, but especially Master Devia. Andre Barleyman lumbered to his feet and looked Devia in the eye. “I want to hear a story! I am tired of all this heavy talk!”

  “Me too!” someone else in the room echoed.

  John felt Devia’s control slipping, so he hurried on. All eyes in the room turned to John, for there was no greater pastime in Amity than storytelling, and John Stafford was nearly as good as Fredrick Gammel. All but Master Devia sat up with heightened interest.

  “Gentlemen,” John began. “I should like to recount for you the founding of Amity.”

  Indeed, everyone knew the story, but few tired of hearing it again and again. Smiling, the group relaxed and leaned back to enjoy their favorite story.

  At Bill Cotton’s Household

  “Grandpa, did he tell the same story you just told us?” Joshua asked.

  “Yes he did, Grandson,” Bill said. “But John Stafford was a very wise man. He made sure to mention the ancestor of each council member present. Names like Gammel, Vanderwick, Coalman, Steele, Simone, Johnson, and others were very prominent in his story. He told of their courage to stand up for what they believed, even though hardship had been the only result. In fact, the only council member who was not mentioned by name was Master Devia.”

  Bill scratched his head thoughtfully. “Where Devia had come from was a mystery. Some thought his father had come from Emancipation. Others said his family had drifted south from the Mountains of Despair. No one knew for certain where he had come from, or why. They only knew he was there.”

  “How did the meeting turn out, Grandpa?”

  “Well, it’s a long story. Shall we ask Grandma if there is time for it yet tonight?” Bill winked at the grandchildren and cast a mischievous grin toward Mary. She sat near the fire, her knitting needles clicking softly. Their steady rhythm added a quiet charm to the setting.

  Mary noted a lull in the story and glanced up. Bill was smiling, and a roomful of anxious eyes were pleading for her approval. Glancing at the clock on the mantel, she nodded—and quickly returned to her labors.

  Bill grinned at the grandchildren. “Well, let’s find out!”

  The Council Continues

  John looked around the room as he concluded. “That is how Amity was discovered and settled. We have a colorful history, and our future has yet to be written.”

  People began to stir as they considered the founding of towns and villages—and their own families’ roles in the unfolding history of Amity.

  The silence was broken by Devia’s high-pitched voice. “Well, that was a very pretty story indeed! I hope you are satisfied that a great deal of time has been wasted?”

  “I was hoping we would all remember what our ancestors fled when they came to this place,” John said quietly. He addressed the entire group. “Gentlemen, we are in a serious position. A large army is encamped on our western border, and they request a merger of our governments to avoid war. Master Devia is apparently their spokesman, for he alone seems to know the mind of this group. We have two choices: either we agree and become vassals of Jabin, or we oppose Jabin and risk going to war. Those of us who vote on this matter will involve others besides ourselves. Everyone has family, friends, or loved ones at home. Those people will be affected by your decision tonight.”

  John looked thoughtfully around the room. Many were old, and some were young, but most had honest hearts endowed with purity and innocence. How he loved these people! If only he could spare them the heartache that would accompany either decision.

  “We will adjourn for fifteen minutes,” John stated. “You should meet with members of your party to reach a decision. I encourage you to talk, but please spend some time in prayer as well. Ask the Lord what course of action He would want us to take. When we regroup, we will meet in the private room to my left. Only the representatives of each district will be allowed in that room for the final discussion and vote.”

  John paused, looking the group over. “Are there any questions?” When there was no reply, he added, “You are dismissed for fifteen minutes. Return with your decision.”

  As men began to sort themselves into various groups, John searched for Philip. Locating him, John gave Philip a great hug and whispered, “Thank you for coming tonight. It was your question about the prisons that prompted me to tell that story.”

  “It was a good move,” another voice added.

  John turned to see an old man to his right. “It’s good to see you, Rhoop!” The men clasped hands firmly. “I’m glad you are here.”

  “I think you have won the first round, John, but I do not think your opposition is over. Look over there.” Rhoop pointed to where Master Devia and Andre Barleyman had withdrawn and were in deep conversation.

  After watching the exchange between Devia and Barleyman, John turned again to Philip and Rhoop. “I know you already have, but continue to pray for the outcome of this meeting. Many lives are at stake, regardless of the choices we make.”

  Both Philip and Rhoop nodded, and John turned to seek a quiet place for prayer. Instinctively, he was drawn to the cemetery behind the house. Quieting his mind, John began to consider the men and women of Amity. He’d seen them in the markets, in the fields, on ships, and working rafts of the river. These were people who trusted him to guide them and protect them. What would become of them in the days ahead?

  In the darkness behind the house, John lifted his eyes to heaven and prayed, “Lord, I know what I must do, but is it right for everyone? Guide our hearts that we might do Your will and honor You with our actions. Strengthen the people of Amity to face the coming days with Your grace. Protect us, I pray, in Jesus’s name, amen.”

  Knowing time for prayer was over; John turned back to the house and made his way resolutely to the meeting room where the future of Amity would be decided.

  CHAPTER 9

  Decisions

  The men returning to council formed a much smaller and quieter group than before. Everyone sat around a large table in a private room. Some quietly eyed the floor, while others searched the eyes of their neighbors, wondering what choices would be made this night.

  When everyone was seated, John stood and opened the meeting. “Gentlemen, how will we respond to the army on our western border?”

  Devia stood. “I have already said that a parley is set for two days from now! Why don’t we wait to see the outcome of that meeting?”

  “Discussion of such important matters should have come to us here at Stonewall,” said Peter Simone. “It is not fitting that James should decide such weighty matters alone!”

  “You apparently do not trust James any more than I do?” Devia said with a sly smile.

  �
��Oh, I trust James, all right,” Simone responded. “It is just that he cannot possibly know the entire mind of this council.”

  “I have no doubt he will be glad to decide for all of you,” commented Devia dryly. “He seems to take delight in being in control.”

  Simone’s only response was to shift uneasily in his chair.

  “Do you mean that James could decide our fate without our input?” Cotter asked uneasily. He directed his question toward John.

  “No,” John stated quietly. “A parley with James is useless. He has no authority to decide Amity’s fate. He has been assigned to defend Amity from invasion. This council has not even given him the authority to initiate battle unless he has been attacked. Once engaged in battle, he may or may not accept terms of surrender.”

  “I wonder if your son’s time away from Stonewall has not made him a little headstrong?” countered Devia. “There is something a bit heady about commanding a division of armed men. He may respect the council’s advice, or he may ignore it.”

  George Greenwold jumped to his feet. “I am incensed by your attack on James’s integrity! How dare you attack the lad when he is not here to defend himself? I cannot sit here and let you defame his character.”

  “Peace, George,” John soothed. “No one feels the sting of these accusations more keenly than I. Time will bear out the truth or folly of James’s actions. Presently, I also trust his judgments.”

  “It is noble for a father to trust his son, but not to the destruction of a nation!” Devia turned angry eyes upon George Greenwald. “However, I doubt not that this horse breeder will share the spoils when James becomes the supreme ruler in Amity.”

  “Gentlemen,” John said sharply. “This meeting will not digress into a shouting match. Currently we have one suggestion on the floor. Master Devia has suggested we wait for the results and terms of parley. Are there other ideas?”

  Surprisingly, Richard Woolsey suddenly stood, and though it was unusual for him to speak in public, he began. “Master Devia says he has no fear of the army on his border. I am glad for him, but those of us in Shepherd are not so confident. Our men, women, and children are prepared to flee if Green Meadow is attacked. We have been grateful for James and the garrison stationed there.”

  Woolsey shifted uncomfortably. Every eye in the room was on him as he continued. “Our concerns have been growing for a long time. Many families have moved from the western slopes to our district in the last two years. They tell of bandits raiding homesteads and grabbing the oldest boys. The boys are then forced to join the bandits. If they refuse, their families are killed.”

  Devia hissed through his teeth, but Woolsey plunged on. “Some of the families that have come to us have boys in Jabin’s service. They fear for their boys, and they fear for their own lives. That is why they have fled. They hope to be safe in Amity.”

  “Where did you dream up such a wild tale?” demanded Devia angrily. “I have seen no immigrants passing through Green Meadow over the last two years.”

  Woolsey suddenly turned to face Devia. “I’m sure you haven’t. They thought you might inform Jabin.” There was dead silence for a moment, and then Woolsey continued. “Admittedly, there is only one road crossing the pass, but the valley is fairly wide, and not all areas can be seen from the towers of your basilica.”

  Devia stood tall and proud. “Are you accusing me of treason? That is some thanks for all the grain and wool I have moved to market for you. Don’t you understand that your well-being is because of me?”

  The color began to rise in Woolsey’s neck, and he clenched his fists. “You steal ten percent every year!” he shouted.

  “Those are customary charges,” Devia countered. “However, with such an attitude, your bales of wool in my warehouse may never find a market now.”

  “You are a cheat and a liar!” Woolsey shouted, nearly coming across the table to get at Devia.

  “That is enough, both of you!” John roared.

  Several men grabbed Woolsey and held him back while Master Devia merely brushed his sleeves and calmly sat down.

  “We can settle these issues another day, gentlemen, but for now, let’s get back to the business at hand,” John said firmly.

  Ronald O’Towle stood. “Gentlemen, in Northglen, we are few and far between, being shepherds and such, but if a bear wanders into our area, we band together to destroy the bear or drive it back into the mountains. No one is safe until he is gone.”

  He continued. “It would seem that Jabin is a predator lounging on our doorstep. If we allow him entrance, we may later wish we had not. Much can be tolerated, but this rounding up of boys and making them serve in a foreign army cannot be tolerated. It must stop. I say, if Jabin will immediately release all the boys he has pressed into service, leave these lands, and promise to never return, let him do so in peace. However, I do not think this kind of man will turn away so easily.”

  There was a brief silence, and O’Towle went on. “I do not wish for war, but I fear this tyrant even more. I hope we will band together and not allow each community to fall victim to Jabin’s desire.”

  There was a murmur of approval around the room. Master Devia looked straight at Andre Barleyman as if to say, “It’s your turn.”

  Slowly, the fat man elevated his ponderous bulk, grunting heavily. His chair squawked a sigh of relief, if only for a moment. This sent a smile around the room, but Barleyman was unaware of anyone’s mirth.

  Saliva trickled from the corners of his mouth and dripped from his chin. “Gentlemen, you are wrong to call Jabin a tyrant.” He looked straight at O’Towle as he spoke. “This man is offering financial liberty to us all. With all nations bound together, the opportunity for economic expansion is unbelievable. The barriers placed by unenlightened people will be removed, and products we produce and market here in Amity will be purchased worldwide. The wealth and prosperity that flow into Amity will rival any on earth. Surely you would not call that tyranny?”

  “We could produce more coal if we had a market for it,” Coalman replied as Barleyman eased his bulk back into his groaning chair. “It would create new jobs, but everyone who wants to work already does. We would have to bring help from outside to mine and ship more coal.”

  “Shipping is no problem,” smiled Devia. “We would be glad to assist you. Indeed, we have not hauled much coal yet.”

  Jarod Steele snorted. “I’m sure you would like to help. I sent a shipment of weapons to Gaff via your company, and he complained that they never received it. Not only that, but your shipping rate was nearly double the standard!”

  “The cost was higher because you were shipping into a war zone. Gaff lives in a war of his own making, and the risks of cargo loss are greater in the turbulent arena of such unstable men.” Devia sounded calm and matter-of-fact.

  And so the discussion continued. Some seemed reluctant to confront Jabin, but most did not want to appease him. Through constant encouragement, John was able to weave a proposal together that he hoped most of the council would support. Amity would issue a call to arms and raise an army. This would not merely be a show of resolve. Amity would be ready to fight and even die to retain her freedom and her identity.

  At long last, the council was ready to vote. “Gentlemen.” John addressed the group, signaling them to once again be seated. “Shall we raise an army with the intent to keep Jabin from entering our borders? How do you vote?”

  The room grew suddenly still. One by one, each representative from the districts of Amity stood and gave his reason for assent or objection. It was a lengthy process, but when everyone had had his say, only Devia and Barleyman were opposed to the plan.

  Vanderwick summed it up the best when he quipped, “We’re caught between a rock and a hard place, with no way to win. But I’d rather fall together than be picked off one by one.”

  So the die was cast, and though Master Devia
objected strongly, the council began to plan for war. Representatives from each community offered varying numbers of troops, though no one committed their full strength. Although most communities had some weapons and protective armor, war was relatively new to Amity. If this newly formed army did not repel Jabin on the western border, these stewards wanted some defense left at home.

  It was when neither Devia nor Barleyman offered any troops for the effort that Woolsey jumped up in frustration, “I do not understand why we make plans for war while members who refuse to assist are among us. If they want no part of this, then maybe they should leave.”

  “Aye,” Greenwold growled. “Get them out of here!”

  “Wait!” John cautioned. “These men are still members of this council. However, I agree that it will look bad if our plans are known by the enemy.”

  Devia glared angrily around the room. He remained silent, but his mind was working quickly. I may have lost this round, but this is only the beginning. I will show these fools! They can’t stop me. In a matter of days, James will be overwhelmed by Jabin’s forces, and no matter how many men are raised tonight, they will come to Green Meadow too late. The battle will be over, and Amity will fall. Because I support him, Jabin will place me on Amity’s throne, and I shall rule. And when I do, these men will pay.

  In the end, little more than fifteen thousand men would march west to Green Meadow. There would be twenty-five hundred from Sebring, three thousand from Waterfront, and five hundred from Stonewall who would begin the journey that afternoon. Northglen would send five hundred men as soon as they could be mustered, but they would be several days behind the others. Capri offered two thousand men, as did Deep Delving. Zaraphath was a large community, so it was glad tidings when Jarod Steele offered thirty-five hundred strong and capable men. Shepherd was a sparsely settled region, but it lay nearest the troubled area, except for Headwater and Green Meadow. Woolsey promised a thousand men to the effort and Vanderwick three hundred. Besides men, Vanderwick offered five hundred horses to be used for commanders, messengers, scouts, the injured, and any other needy personnel.