Two great, wooden doors, bearing iron bands, parted before them as they sloshed with their wet sandals upon the cold stones. Beyond, at the far end of a tall and crowded throne room, sat King Stephen upon a high-backed throne of silver. The silver bird of prey, his family's crest, flew upon a sky of purple on the massive tapestry above him on the wall.
Ethan might have expected the man to remain disheartened, following the terrible defeat he had faced in Nod at the white walls of Emmanuel City, but King Stephen appeared more vexed than before. On the Emmanuel Road, leading away from the battlefield, Ethan had met a regal king, bloodied and battered to be sure, but still proud and honorable even in defeat. Here, sitting upon his throne now, Stephen held the wild eye of a predator-primal and dangerous.
At least two dozen guards escorted them down the narrow purple carpet leading up to Stephen's throne. Ethan watched the faces of courtiers and ladies dressed in their finery. These dangerous prisoners provided the latest intrigue for those who lived for it. Some turned away when he met their gaze. Others mused in whispers with their neighbors, and a few young ladies even batted their eyes seductively at him. Ethan turned away, blushing. He found Levi rolling his eyes at him instead.
As they approached the throne, Stephen tensed like a cat ready to spring upon a cornered mouse. He placed a silver, jewel-encrusted goblet down upon a tray holding fresh cut fruit and pieces of sliced beef and cheese, almost spilling it all with the force of the gesture. But his eyes never left the men approaching him.
Ethan, Levi and Seth came to stand just before the short set of steps leading onto the throne platform. Stephen's eyes found Ethan in particular, his eyes burning into him as though he might kill this priest of Shaddai with his stare alone.
Levi bowed before the king, his manacles clanking around his wrists. But Stephen's eyes didn't depart from Ethan until the Captain spoke. "Your Majesty," he said, employing all the diplomacy an ex-pirate might muster. "I'm glad to see that you are well-"
King Stephen seized upon the intrusion like an adder's strike. "And why should I not be, Captain Bonifast? Did you think me so stupid that I would not know the mischief you've conjured against me with this villainous dog?"
Levi's jaw fell slack in confusion. Stephen's finger trembled, outstretched toward Ethan to emphasize his last syllable. Ethan gulped down the lump building in his throat. Caution was called for, only he wasn't sure what he could have possibly done to gain the King's fury.
Levi interceded before the question could spring from Ethan's lips. "Your Majesty, I'm quite certain there must be some mistake. Ethan has been loyal to The Order of Shaddai since the time you met him on that fateful day so many months ago. Isaiah himself, I'm sure, would be glad to vouch for his unshakeable character and bravery against our mutual enemy."
"You mean to say ally, Captain," Stephen shook visibly as he spoke, his anger a furnace barely contained. "My spies have brought me word of the young Nodian priest who has turned to ally himself with Mordred. Do not think that I will be swayed by a rogue's tongue from that which I know to be fact! You are clearly here in Wayland to spy us out before the invasion already on its way around Cape Redemption, set to land on these very shores at my doorstep."
He stood now, quivering with rage as he spoke. "Had I not wanted to see you in this villain's company for myself, I would have had my men execute you on the spot in Fenceton!"
Ethan could stand no more of these false accusations. He spoke up in a loud authoritative voice, surprising himself. "Your Highness, despite the accusations brought against me, I remain a faithful priest to my Order and servant of the Lord, Shaddai. He has sent me to proclaim the hour of his deliverance and to dispense his justice."
King Stephen thrust his finger toward Ethan furiously. "How dare you insinuate yourself into the prophecy? Guards, kill them all immediately!"
What happened in only a fraction of a second, for everyone else, seemed to drag into long minutes for Ethan. He phased into the spiritual realm, more spectral than truly invisible, passing through the shackles binding his wrists as six of the soldiers standing guard around them drew their bows and released their arrows.
Seth had begun to react. Levi hadn't yet. Several guards had started to release their swords with bloodlust in their eyes.
Six arrow shafts split the atmosphere toward the place where Ethan had been standing and where his friends still stood. He danced elegantly among the arrows, turning to each in turn with gentle glancing sweeps of his hands, caressing them into changes of trajectory-the archers becoming the new targets.
As six arrows dashed into the right thighs of the six archers who had fired them, Ethan's spiritual blade split into two, leaping to his hands already in motion. He divided each of the other guard's swords through their scabbards, barely a blur to the naked eye, even before the men could finish drawing them.
Ethan became fully flesh once again. His empty manacles completed their descent to the purple runway carpet behind him with a dull clank. Levi jumped, only having just begun to raise his bound hands, trying to ward off the archers he'd known were going to fire. The archers, for their part, fell to the floor in pain, grasping their wounded legs, as stunned as anyone.
King Stephen stood there, heaving, his mouth agape in disbelief. The court fell silent as gasps of alarm and the sound of severed sword blades hitting the floor died away. After a long moment, staring at Ethan, Stephen said, "You can't be him."
Ethan straightened, a calm assurance he'd never felt before growing in his chest. "I am Shaddai's Deliverer, Your Highness. In the name of The Sovereign Lord of Creation, I demand that you release us."
No one moved. The guards looked at one another, then to their king, dumbfounded. Levi smiled, all teeth, raising his manacles with a shake, intending that someone produce a key to affect his immediate release.
Ethan might have rolled his eyes at his friend, but felt the moment required a firmer stance. He had expected the King's obstinacy to evaporate; only it didn't.
King Stephen looked shocked, as though Ethan had just slapped his face. "What did you say to me, boy? I'll have your head before you demand another thing from me! And your traitorous friends will share your fate."
Ethan tried to calm down, to think rationally. Something wasn't right here. Why was the King acting this way? He sensed Seth and Levi's unease now. They were preparing to move fast if it became necessary.
Ethan's flesh tingled as though ants were crawling underneath his skin. And then he realized what was happening. He searched beyond what natural sight could show him. His vision shifted somewhat. Black tendrils of smoke became visible to him. They seemed to emanate from the king's throne, as though it had been on fire briefly and then extinguished.
He heard the voices too-many of them all whispering at once. Wicked, blasphemous thoughts full of venom were seeping into King Stephen as he stood near the silver throne. Ethan lunged instinctively for the King. He shifted from the physical to the spiritual realm-barely a visible specter when he passed through Stephen's body with his raised sword.
Piercing shrieks rose from the throne, multiplying in intensity as Ethan slashed down through the ornate silver chair with its regal purple upholstery. He cleaved the high back in two diagonally, with his first strike, then severed the seat and arms from the base with his next.
Spirits, like gnashing black eels, shot away from the ruined piece of furniture. King Stephen collapsed upon the platform, a marionette whose strings had been cut. The spirits evaporated-their screeching curses the only residue remaining until all fell silent again.
Ethan returned to his physical form as people rushed to the fallen king. "Is he still alive?" Levi asked.