The Fugitive Prince (Bell Mountain) (45 page)

BOOK: The Fugitive Prince (Bell Mountain)
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“I think we are going to leave this city very soon—maybe even today,” she said. “Prester Jod fears there will be trouble. But he is a great man, and we should be safe under his protection.”

 

Shingis bowed his head. “Wherever you go, we’ll go with you,” he said. The Blays were so far from their homeland, they’d given up all hope of ever seeing it again. Gurun thanked him, and he left the room.

 

General Hennen was the only one in the palace who’d been told the king and queen had gone to Jod’s house. Gurun hadn’t been able to contact Gallgoid, but she knew he would find out all about it sooner or later—if he hadn’t already. Meanwhile, she’d advised Hennen to pull his own troops out of the city and try to rejoin the rest of King Ryons’ army as soon as he could.

 

“We must be guided by the prophecy, General,” she said. “The throne of King Ozias is to be established not in this city, but in Lintum Forest. The Lord has spoken it.”

 

“Then that’s where I’ll go,” Hennen said, “and five hundred good spearmen with me.”

 

For the time being, there was nothing to do but wait in Prester Jod’s drawing room. Fnaa found it irksome.

 

“If we’re going to go, I wish we could go now!” he said. “As long as I’m not going to be king anymore and live in the palace, we might as well be going.”

 

Uduqu laughed. “You liked being king, did you?” he said.

 

“Well, it was better than being a slave in Vallach Vair’s house. Gurun, why can’t we go now? That prester said we could, if we wanted to.”

 

“You may get your wish sooner than you think,” Gurun said. In truth, she had a longing to go to Durmurot. It was the city in Obann that was closest to the sea, and over the sea lay Fogo Island, her home.

 

“I think the boy’s right,” Uduqu said. “There’s nothing left for us to do in this city. Why don’t we make tracks for Durmurot? If need be, we can always come back.”

 

Maybe it was wiser, Gurun thought, to start such a journey before there was trouble in the city, and not after it began. Maybe it wouldn’t be so easy to get out during a disturbance.

 

She rang for Jod’s butler.

 

“Make ready the carriage,” she told him, “and tell the prester when he comes—and no one else!—that we’ve gone to Durmurot.” She smiled at Uduqu. “As you say,” she added, “we can always come back.”

 

 

Around noon that day a party of Abnak pathfinders, with the fifty Ghols on horseback following, and Obst mounted on a donkey in their midst, arrived at Carbonek. At the sight of their old friend, Jack and Ellayne ran to greet him. Martis followed slowly.

 

“Obst, Obst—you’re back in the forest, where you belong!” Jack cried.

 

“I belong wherever God puts me,” Obst said, as he hugged the children. Wytt chattered at him and ran up onto his shoulder. Behind him, Ghols dismounted. “But where are Helki and the king?”

 

“No one knows,” Martis said. Briefly, he explained the circumstances.

 

“If only we’d come sooner!” Chagadai said. “Well, we must ride out and look for him.”

 

“You ought to rest first,” Martis said, “and wait for the rest of the army to get here. King Ryons is with Helki—which means he’s as safe as he can ever be, all things considered.”

 

Grumbling, the Ghols began to hobble their horses. Settlers thronged around to greet Obst, whom they knew. It wasn’t until much later that Martis and the children were able to speak to him alone.

 

“We’re back to stay. At least I think we are,” Obst said. “Jandra has prophesied: it’s God’s will for the throne to be set in Lintum Forest, not Obann City. When Ryons returns, he’ll have to have a proper anointing, as described in Scripture. And a coronation!”

 

“But there will have to be some wise plans made, too,” Martis said. “Come—I want to show you something.”

 

Inside the ruins of the castle, in the shadows, Martis showed Obst the ancient object that the children stole from Noma. Obst trembled as Martis demonstrated its uses, and let out a relieved sigh when Martis returned it to his saddlebag.

 

“Except for its power to terrorize the ignorant, the thing is harmless, as far as I can tell,” Martis said. “But I fear the Thunder King has obtained a great number of such things. He’s sure to use them against us. And some of them, I think, will not be harmless.”

 

Obst nodded. “Yes, we’ll have to plan for that,” he said, with a sigh. “No end to it!” he thought. He looked at Jack and Ellayne. “And we’ll have to do something about getting you two back home to your family.”

 

“Not yet!” Ellayne said. “Yes, all right, it’s time we went home. But we want to see King Ryons first.”

 

“We’ve gone to an awful lot of trouble for him,” Jack said.

 

“You can stay until God brings him back to us,” said Obst.

 

“And then it’s back to Ninneburky!” Martis said. “And if your father the baron locks your bedrooms from the outside from now on, I, for one, won’t blame him.”

 

 

Chapter 53

How Orth Was Judged and Punished

 

Orth had always been well-known for giving long and eloquent speeches. Today he outdid himself, carrying his confession into the early afternoon.

 

He told the conclave everything, all the details of the treason he’d enacted with Lord Reesh. “But my guilt,” he said, “is my own. All that I did, I did willingly. Lord Reesh tempted me, but I yielded eagerly to that temptation. He never forced me or deceived me. My sin is all my own.”

 

He revealed how they’d carried out their treason: their negotiations with the mardar, their eagerness to take up residence in the Thunder King’s New Temple, and their journey east, in which Orth lost his nerve and later his reason and deserted.

 

“For many months I lived with simple people in the hills, teaching them the Scriptures. They named me Sunfish, because I could not remember my own name, nor my former station. That was a happy time.

 

“But when I slept, horror crept into my soul. I could not understand it, or remember anything of what I dreamed, when I awoke. Friends brought me here to Obann, and yesterday morning I awoke in my own bed, in my own room, in my own house. And I remembered everything.”

 

The delegates sat still and silent, held captive by his words, made speechless by the revelation of so much wickedness. They might tear Orth to pieces on the spot before this day was over, Jod thought. There had always been rumors in the city that certain persons had let in the Heathen, but these had by now nearly died for lack of nourishment. Now Jod wondered what would happen when Orth’s confession got out of the Great Hall and into the streets and taverns of Obann. Was there anything that he, Jod, could say or do to forestall a disaster?

 

“I have come to the end of my confession,” Orth said. “I have sinned. I have been guilty of great folly. But even as all things end, other things begin.

 

“I have been told that certain Scriptures have been found in Old Obann, written in Ozias’ own hand, and that in our seminary a great work has been undertaken to render the Old Books into modern language and make God’s word known to all the people.”

 

An inspiration burst into Jod’s mind. Whether it would be for good or evil, he had no time to consider. Quietly he rose from his seat and made his way to the podium—where he had not long to wait.

 

“I am glad that I have lived to see this day,” Orth said. “In this new work, God has found the means to undo the evil that I’ve done and to make good come of it.”

 

At that moment he noticed Jod standing there, and Jod caught his eye.

 

“Prester Jod? Yes?”

 

“Your indulgence, Prester!” Jod joined him on the speakers’ platform. The delegates stared at them, too surprised to make an outcry yet.

 

“Brethren,” Jod said, “we have heard things today that we never thought to hear, and learned things that we never thought to learn. In all this, God has shown us the way we ought to go.

 

“When the bell on Bell Mountain rang, many of us believed it was to ring in the destruction of the world. When God stayed His hand, and the world continued, we dismissed the bell from our minds. War came upon us—such war as no man living ever saw. Had the Lord not performed a miracle of deliverance, this whole city would have been destroyed, and we would not be assembled here today.

 

“We need a new Temple and a new First Prester. The Thunder King has built a Temple, but how can we be enticed to go there? His Temple was to be the reward of treason. It is a snare to us.

 

“Our own Temple lies in ruins. Where shall we find the money to rebuild it? But I say, let God’s word itself be our Temple! Let Heaven itself be the roof of our new Temple, and the four corners of the world its walls.”

 

He spoke the words as fast as they came into his mind, not stopping to analyze them. They came, and he spoke them.

 

“As for a new First Prester,” he said, “I know that many of you would choose me. In this you honor me. But I realize now that there is a man more fit, more deserving, than I—a new man, shaped by suffering, broken down and then remolded by God’s hands.”

 

He laid a hand on Orth’s shoulder.

 

“Brethren, I give you the only man I can think of as First Prester. Approve him now, this very moment, by your acclamation.

 

“I give you First Prester Orth!”

 

The hall erupted in applause. Later, Jod could only ascribe it to the spirit of God moving among the delegates, in which Preceptor Constan concurred. As one mighty voice they roared their acclamation. “Orth, Orth, Orth!” they cried. They rose from their seats and waved their arms. They stomped their feet until the building shook. Jod let it go on and on, not wanting it to end. But eventually it did come to an end, and the president gaveled the conclave into silence. Willingly the delegates gave him their peace. They wanted to hear Orth again.

 

“My lords!” he sputtered. “How can I accept this honor? I am a sinner, a traitor, and a fool. I came here to be punished, not exalted!”

 

“But this is your punishment, First Prester,” said Jod. “Your punishment, and our reward.”

 

 

That evening Constan came home and gave the news to Hlah and May.

 

“Sunfish is First Prester?” May cried. “Our Sunfish?”

 

Hlah shook his head. “How could it be?” he marveled.

 

“And him dressed in all those dirty old clothes!” May added.

 

Constan indulged in one of his rare smiles.

 

“I’ll try to explain it to you over supper,” he said. He sighed. “God shakes the world, so that the things that cannot be shaken will endure. He is not done shaking yet! Where we shall all be a year from now is in His hands. I am content.”

 

 

Follow the Entire Adventure with the First Four Books in this Exciting Series!

 

BOOK: The Fugitive Prince (Bell Mountain)
9.47Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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