Inside, a young man in priestly robes lay upon the cell floor among scattered handfuls of dirty straw. The smell of feces assaulted Mordred's senses as he peered within. The torn robes bore filthy blood stains. The man himself appeared gaunt. Bruises covered his exposed skin.
Mordred smiled. "That's very impressive, Scar. The boy should be convinced-only, remember to keep your face hidden until you strike."
The pale, young man sat up on the floor, revealing his face. "Oh, don't worry, my lord. I've made preparations there as well."
Indeed, he had. Scar's face was swollen and purple, one eye unable to open at the moment. His head had been shaved in the same way Gideon wore his hair. "I see," Mordred said, clearly pleased. "You've always done excellent work, Scar. I should have expected nothing less this time."
Scar stood and bowed to Mordred from within the cell. "I only live to serve your interests, Lord Mordred."
Mordred smiled devilishly. "And if you can kill the Deliverer for me, a king's ransom will be yours."
"I don't understand," Gideon said, frustrated. "I didn't agree to destroy the Temple, or kill the High Priest. I only agreed to stop Ethan."
General Grimwald mounted his black stallion, wearing his crimson and black armor. "You agreed to kill the boy and you will serve my master by doing exactly what he requires of you," Grimwald said coldly. "I will do you the courtesy of explaining your situation to you, Gideon. If you value the life of your child, then you will do everything asked of you without any further arguments or questions. Do you understand?"
Gideon nodded, then mounted his horse, his indignation burning. Grimwald was right. Mordred had him. He could and would ask anything he wanted, and maybe when the warlord was satisfied, they would be released.
Grimwald pulled the reins to steady his animal. "Frankly, Gideon, Hevas Rommil was a friend of mine. After what you did to him, I'd be all too happy to put the blade to your whimpering brat myself."
Gideon fumed, but held his temper. "That's what got Hevas Rommil killed," he said. "I'd hate to see the same, or worse happen to you, General."
Grimwald stared at him in disgust, perhaps hoping to turn the comment around to his advantage. Instead, he snapped the reins, goading his horse out of the stalls. Gideon grimaced and followed.
When the two men emerged onto the staging field, Gideon's mouth nearly dropped open. Before him stood an army of five hundred heavily armed men on horses. The number nearly doubled those present at the Temple of Shaddai. His immediate thought had been discouragement, but then Gideon realized Grimwald wouldn't have enough men.
Grimwald must have guessed what he had been thinking. "Not as many as you would have thought, priest?" Grimwald asked. Gideon looked at him, but gave no answer. "Don't worry, Gideon, these five hundred men you see here, will each have the strength of ten soldiers."
"Why is that?" Gideon asked.
"Our allies will be joining us before we assault the Temple," Grimwald boasted.
Gideon gave the man a curious look. "No demon has ever penetrated the Temple compound."
"True enough," Grimwald admitted, "but they will now enter through my men."
Gideon wanted to laugh at the General's plan, but he wasn't sure it would fail. The technical aspects of the relationship between spiritual and physical realms eluded him. Still, the possibility of demons breaching the Temple defenses seemed horrifying. Even a possessed old woman had been a surprisingly difficult opponent. Gideon could only imagine the result of five hundred battle-hardened soldiers empowered by demons.
"You will ride by me," Grimwald commanded. Then he moved his horse to the head of the columns of soldiers. Gideon complied, following after the General on his black stallion.
General Grimwald gave the order and the company began to march out of the city. The columns of soldiers thundered behind Grimwald and Gideon. Heavily armed Wagons, filled with provisions and weapons, followed after them.
As their procession passed through the eastern gate in the white wall, Gideon looked back. He hoped that Ethan would not try to rescue him from Emmanuel. Any attempt would lead him into a trap and now Gideon wouldn't even be there to be rescued.
Gideon turned, watching General Grimwald bobbing in his saddle. He hated this man. With every fiber of his being, Gideon desired to kill him and stop this madness. His entire life's work, the dedication of his whole existence had been betrayed. Gideon found himself the architect of his own ruin. He'd betrayed Ethan, betrayed The Order of Shaddai and even Sarah by his willingness to bring her into a dangerous association with himself.
The Thornhill Mountains, with only the faintest glimmer of their snowcapped peaks visible, lay before him. Soon Gideon would be forced to kill the man who had nurtured him-his mentor and friend. If he was fortunate, the priests would kill this entire army before he ever got the opportunity. Perhaps he would simply falter on purpose and allow the High Priest to kill him instead.
Gideon didn't know if he could do it-to leave his and Sarah's child in Mordred's hands-left to be killed by the warlord. Worse still, was the thought that Mordred might spare the child and rather raise him to become some twisted pawn in his grasp. Gideon realized he might be condemning the soul of his son by that possibility. No, he had to return. He had to save their son from a fate worse than death.
Gideon goaded his stallion, attempting to keep pace with General Grimwald. They had left at an unexpected hour, late in the day. Night would fall soon and Grimwald hoped to cover as much ground as possible before they made camp.
Gideon watched the distant mountains. A knot formed in his stomach. His betrayal was hard enough to endure away from the eyes and understanding of his friends. Soon he would have to face them and be completely exposed to his shame.
Purple and pink hues played across the approaching twilight sky as Ethan watched the guards at the gates of the city from his hiding place several hundred yards away. As soon as darkness fell completely, he and Levi would make their move. He spotted the place where they would enter the city, a long shadow draped over the white granite wall to the right of the guard post.
Levi breathed heavy next to Ethan, lying on the ground among several tufts of monkey weed which dotted the plain before the city on either side of the Emmanuel Road. The smell of death and decay lingered from the slaughter of King Stephen's army almost a year earlier. Ethan wondered, for a moment, how the monarch had been received by his people of Wayland after his failed attempt at a coup in Nod.
The sun continued its slow descent toward the mountains in the west. Levi turned from his brass spyglass. "Do you see any demon activity out there?"
Ethan had been watching, but everything spiritual seemed strangely quiet. "No." But doubt lingered in his mind. He knew this might as well have been dubbed Demon Central, considering who ruled here, but he hadn't spotted even one of the rebellious angels since they'd begun watching an hour ago. Ethan wondered if he and the others were somehow about to walk into a trap, but he didn't voice his concerns. Trap or no, he intended to go into the city and then the palace in order to rescue his friend.
Elspeth's need of rescuing goaded him. He had no idea if she had been brought to Emmanuel, or even if she still lived. Somehow, Ethan believed she had survived though he had only his gut feeling to convince him. Gideon on the other hand had been seen. Ethan knew if the tables were turned, Gideon would certainly risk everything to save him.
The pair waited patiently for the sun to dip beyond the horizon. When it had, they crept forward from their hiding place. The guards would have no way of seeing either of them until they got within the light cast by the torches mounted at their guard station beside the main gate.