Leaving the Thornhill Mountains behind them and crossing into the realm of Wayland, had been fairly uneventful. A small fortress, erected over the only road, housed several hundred men, cannon, horses, and the beginning of a signal fire network, to which speedy response could be made to any invasion through loyal militia scattered along the countryside. Apart from the fortress itself, Ethan and his company had found a defensive wall stretching out from the fortress on either side, both terminating into the last vestiges of jagged rock the Thornhills had to offer.
The guards at the fortress had seemed a bit on edge at the time of their passing, but they'd still been civil enough to outfit them with provisions: food and water and fresh horses. Those holding positions atop the fifty-foot block wall remained alert the entire time. Ethan had watched them carefully from a distance. Even Levi had remarked that these men all seemed to expect an attack at any moment.
Perhaps King Stephen had made preparations along his borders following their defeat at Emmanuel. Or maybe he knew war was imminent. Ethan and Levi had certainly seen enough preparation in progress within the white-walled city when they'd gone looking for Gideon. Giants housed on the training grounds and great engines of war stood ready, but logistically, Ethan couldn't see them marched through the narrow and treacherous mountain pass to Wayland.
As they rode through the grassy plains Levi spoke up first. "I'm wondering if it's in our best interest for you to seek an audience with King Stephen."
Ethan looked back over his shoulder, puzzled by the statement. "What do you mean? Surely we need to find out if Isaiah has fled to Wayland with the Word. Besides, if he's looking for an invasion then we can tell him what we saw in Emmanuel."
Levi's face twisted a little as though he weren't quite sure he should say what he meant to say. "That wasn't exactly what I had in mind. I was thinking, after our last encounter with the king, that he might still have a sore spot where the Deliverer was concerned."
Now Ethan understood. Stephen had insinuated, after his defeat at Emmanuel, that Shaddai had abandoned them all by not sending victory by his hand, despite the fact that the prophecy said, the Deliverer would come to defeat Mordred. Stephen had placed himself in the role instead and gone to war, hoping to fulfill the prophecy in his own time. His defeat had been absolute, and what remained of his battered army had limped back to Wayland like dogs with their tales tucked between their legs.
"You might be right," Ethan said. "But we've got to find out about Isaiah. Seth, do you know where the Temple resides in Wayland?"
"I've never been to Wayland at all," Seth said. "Besides, the king has almost certainly been informed of our passing at the wall. As hostile to the Deliverer as he might be, it might be worse if we appeared to be avoiding him."
Another two days travel had brought them to a village named Fenceton. The people, wary at first, had become hospitable, even friendly, once they understood that Ethan and Seth were both priests of The Order of Shaddai. One man, the owner of a tavern in the town, had even sailed with Levi years ago during his pirating days.
They both sat enjoying talk of old times and the direction of their changed lives while Seth and Ethan discussed their plans over two bowls of stew. They weren't quite sure what the meat was, but it was still good and much appreciated after their long journey from Nod.
"Despite Levi's reservations about the king, I think we must seek an audience with him," Seth said. "These villagers don't know how to direct us to the Temple and from what I've heard here, the presiding High Priest is also a part of Stephen's government-an advisor to His Majesty."
"True," Ethan replied. He sipped broth from a wooden spoon and then dipped a piece of bread into the stew. Rain patted on the roof of the tavern, but the fire kept them warm within.
The door opened, revealing soldiers in the polished silver armor of Wayland. They filed into the room, a half dozen of them all soaking wet with rivulets of water streaming across their steel breastplates, now bright orange in the light of the fire. The first to come inside spoke with a voice full of gravel. "Where are the priests who come from Nod?"
Ethan glanced at Seth and then at the soldiers. He stood up from his chair slowly at the back of the room. Seth followed his lead. "We're here," Ethan said politely. He hoped the king had sent a royal escort for them, but in the back of his mind, he didn't believe it was likely.
The soldier, clearly the commanding officer, stepped aside allowing several others to move forward, with their swords drawn, preparing to take Ethan and Seth.
"Officer, we've not come to make any trouble," Ethan said. "There's no need to take us into custody. We seek an audience with His Majesty."
The commander stifled a laugh. "Oh, you'll have an audience all right-in chains."
Levi moved across the room, his hot disapproval leading the way in aggravated tones. "I can't believe this is the welcome we've received on a mission meant to notifying the king of his enemy's plans to invade!"
The commander whipped his sword out of its scabbard. Levi boldly walked up to the commanding officer, placing the tip of the weapon on his chest. "These priests are in my company, a captain commissioned by King Stephen himself. You'd better release them immediately, or I'll see to it personally that His Majesty has your head for this injustice!"
The commanding officer backed off and lowered the tip of his sword, making obeisance in the process with a slight bow. "I'm sorry, sir. I had no idea."
"Well, it's not a problem," Levi said, now becoming cheery. He turned toward Ethan, all smiles and said, with a wink, "We're all willing to overlook a perfectly honest mistake, aren't we?"
The pommel of the commanding officer's sword came crashing down across the back of Levi's head, sending him sprawling to the floor. "Oh, thank you, sir," he said, laughing. To his own men he said, "Clap them in irons. The king is waiting."