Ethan and Levi stood in the doorway behind Gideon. Mr. Oggle came out of the back room, surveying the situation in his inn. “I don’t want any fighting in here,” he began, but a flick of Virgil’s wrist sent a throwing knife into the wall beside Mr. Oggle’s head, silencing him.
“I’ll handle this,” Gideon whispered.
Levi and Ethan shrugged at one another, then stepped out of the way. Neither of them had any doubt about Gideon’s ability, but the hulking mountain of muscle ahead of them stood nearly twice as tall as any of them. The tension in the room felt as though it would snap like an over-wound dulcimer string at any moment.
Virgil laughed under his breath. “This little pipsqueak needs a lesson.” He shoved Sarah back toward the bar and his master, but the dapper gent was too busy getting out of harm’s way to bother with her anymore. Sarah smiled at Gideon and he returned it. By the time his eyes centered back on the massive bodyguard’s movements, it was too late.
A throwing knife, one of many carried around Virgil’s waist, snapped through the air, glinting sunlight for the briefest moment between the big hand and its target. There was a brief whistle of air and a snap as the blade hit flesh. Everyone stared in disbelief. The sound had been Gideon’s flesh hitting the blade-specifically the weapon had been caught between the priest’s two palms at chest height.
“We’ve not even been properly introduced, and you’re already giving presents?” Gideon said. Rather than return the shiny silver blade, he let it fall harmlessly to the floor where the heavy blade stuck into the stained hardwood.
Sarah breathed a noticeable sigh of relief, once she realized Gideon remained unharmed. Virgil’s expression quickly flashed from astonished to angry. With surprising speed, for a man of his size, he whipped three more throwing knives from his belt. Three dull clunks sounded as each stuck into the wooden wall narrowly missing the priest-Gideon’s lithe movements a blur of evasive action.
A glimmer of astonishment crossed Virgil’s chiseled features again, but only a glimmer. That was all he had time for. His next facial expression was pain.
Quick as a flash, Gideon closed the gap between them, smashing a thick fist into Virgil’s left mandibular joint, shattering his jaw. Virgil yelped in pain, but was unable to close his mouth-his jaw having locked into a slightly open position.
The bodyguard tried to grab Gideon, but he was much too fast. The priest ducked beneath Virgil’s muscular arms and double kicked his right knee: once to the front and once to the side. The knee buckled as the second precise impact popped an important tendon. The bodyguard staggered and fell across the table where his master had been gambling-his great bulk smashing it to kindling.
Virgil moaned in pain, holding his jaw, but he did not get up. Gideon looked toward the dapper gent. “Would now be a good time for you and I to get acquainted, sir, or would you rather apologize to the young lady?”
He tipped his hat nervously toward Sarah. “I sincerely apologize, ma’am.” Then he and his companions left Virgil where he lay and hurried out of the Willow Tree Inn.
“Mr. Oggle, I think your physician should probably take a look at this man,” Gideon said, indicating the muscular bodyguard writhing on the ground among the broken furniture.
“Blane, go get the healer and bring the magistrate as well,” Mr. Oggle said. “And tell him he’s going to need some good men to help him.”
Blane obeyed instantly. He leaped over the bar, smiling, patting Gideon’s shoulder as he passed him. “Good to see you again.”
Gideon smiled at the young man, then turned to Sarah. “Did they hurt you?”
“No, I’m all right,” she said. “It’s good to see you, Gideon.”
HOME COOKED SECRETS
Sarah left them to complete her deliveries for her parent’s laundry before she headed home to their farm. True to Gideon’s word, Ethan and Levi got to enjoy the steaming, hot baths at Mr. Oggle’s Willow Tree Inn. The attendants saw to washing road dust from their clothes while they simply relaxed their weary, aching muscles.
The local magistrate took Virgil, the bodyguard, into custody. The healer, Mr. Lesh, accompanied the prisoner to the stockade, mumbling as he tried to figure out how he could properly wrap the man’s jaw closed so he would still be able to eat. Blane cleaned the mess in the dining room, and business quickly resumed its normal pace at the Willow Tree Inn.
Once they had cleaned up, nearly two hours later, Gideon led Ethan and Levi to the outskirts of the small town to a solitary dirt road, bringing them to the farm of Arness and his family. The family had done well for themselves in Millertown, and their homestead reflected it.
Arness also worked in the cattle business. Ethan saw many heifers grazing within the fenced boundaries of Arness’ farm. In other places, he noticed sheep. The house was one of the few two story homes he saw in Millertown. He found it charming, white with glass windows framed by black sills and shutters-currently open.
The windows were open as well, two small doors which pulled inward opposite of the shutter’s movement. Ethan saw Arness’ wife walking back and forth in the house through the windows, trying to prepare the meal for their arrival. Arness met them outside the house and took their horses. He walked the horses to the barn while waving the men to the house. “Go on inside. We’ll eat shortly.”
Ethan and Levi followed Gideon through the door where Sarah, the daughter of Arness, greeted them again. “Hello, Gideon…I mean, Master Gideon, sir.”
Ethan noticed, again, the informal breech of etiquette. She had done the same thing at the Willow Tree. A mistake? He wondered. To address a warrior-priest of Shaddai so informally seemed odd to Ethan, at least for the young daughter of a friend. How well does Gideon know this family, he wondered.
Arness’ wife, Bella, instructed them from the kitchen. “Won’t you sit, gentlemen?” she said. “I’ll have dinner finished in a moment.”
“Thank you,” they said, taking the wooden chairs provided for them. A fire burned in the hearth. It felt nice with the air taking on a slight chill as the evening descended. As they rose in elevation on their approach to the Thornhill Mountains, Ethan had noticed the weather changing quite a bit. The colder air was something uncommon where he was from.
Arness came through the door, just then, all smiles. “Now we can catch up, Master Gideon. Tell me more about your new friends.”
Ethan looked at Gideon, unsure of what he would tell the man. Was he someone to be trusted with the secret of his identity in the prophecy?
“This young man is Ethan. He will be training with The Order.”
“Ah, I see. So you have given your life to the service of the Almighty? Very noble of you, young man, very noble indeed,” Arness said. “I’m sure Gideon has told you how serious a commitment that is.”
“I can honestly say, I was meant to serve Shaddai with my life,” Ethan said confidently.
Arness laughed. “Good man. I trust you’ll be blessed in your pursuits there at the Temple. I’ve only ever met one of the warrior-priests who reside in Temple within the Thornhills, and that’s Gideon. He brought us the written Word of Shaddai when all seemed lost. Lawlessness had rooted in Millertown during the days following Mordred’s takeover of Nod. But the Word restored our lives. We became free to pursue righteousness again.”
“Was it that simple?” Levi asked. “You just received the Word, and that was it?”
“Well, not quite so simple. When Gideon brought the Word back to us, there were already those in Millertown who staunchly opposed it. Mordred allowed many of his heathen allies to take up governorships in the towns and villages in Nod, including Millertown. But in the end, they were no match for Gideon.” Arness placed a hand on Gideon’s shoulder. “We owe him a great debt for what he has done for this town.”