The False Prophet (Stonegate Book 2) Read online

  Don was impressed with Deborah’s poise and the passion of her speech. She had again proved to be a loyal friend and an asset to him and the Haven troops. He would always be grateful for her courage and strength. He encouraged the crowd to vote in favor of arming; to mobilize and send the Hightower levy north. He concluded: “I wish to again thank Mayor Sheridan for his support. Before you leave we are asking every one of you to put a vote into the ballot box. The Mayor will hand out the voting papers which simply ask if you are in favor of uniting with our efforts to fight the invaders or not. My men and I will soon be leaving to visit other towns and cities, such as Longmont and Stonegate, to ask them the same. But we already know that we will ride with twenty brave men from Castle Rock. We know that other towns and villages will also contribute their bravest and best. Harley of Castle Rock has a fine reputation in warfare, and he will be assisted by his next in command, Jarrad. Past tensions must now be put aside if we are to win this battle. Finally, we bring arms and armor enough for two hundred men. They will be yours, should you decide to march with us.”

  The crowd began to break up into smaller groups, as they held heated discussions around the ballot boxes. It was not possible to tell what was being said, but they were not of one mind. Don had hoped for a wave of acclamation to sweep the crowd, but he saw no sign of it. His palms were clammy with sweat, and it was all he could do to stand erect and try to appear confident.

  Deborah also seemed concerned. She leaned close and whispered into Don’s ear. “No one asked my opinion about any of this,” she began. “Don’t you think this is a huge gamble?”

  “It is, indeed, “answered Don. “I fear that the fate of our entire campaign will depend on the results of this vote. Right now, it looks to be balanced on a knife’s edge. But the mayor would agree to nothing else. A token only, without the vote.”

  “Oh, Don,” answered Deborah. “I am so afraid. We can’t take any chance that Bobby could get word of this to that evil Prophet especially if they refuse to help. You will make sure that he is carefully watched, won’t you?”

  “Of course,” answered Don, holding her close and patting her on the shoulder.

  Chapter 9

  †

  Carla

  Oil and incense bring joy to the heart, and the sweetness of a friend is better than self-counsel. Proverbs 27: 9 HCSB

  Life in Stonegate had almost returned to normal. But Carla was still traumatized from her kidnapping by Balek Brown. Memories of being held in the Raider’s compound haunted her dreams; nightly, she found herself in horrifying captivity, and she couldn’t find her way home. Each time, she’d wake up perspiring heavily, needing time to realize she was home near Stonegate, safe in her own bed. Mostly, she remembered the humiliation and the hunger. Especially, the gnawing hunger. The bond she had developed with the other captives was strong, cemented by the grief they all shared. If it weren’t for Donald, she doubted that she would still be alive. He was the one who rescued them all, the six of them, from that hell hole. Rachel, her neighbor, and now her dearest friend, was one of them.

  Carla was only eighteen when taken, the youngest of the group. She’d always been a bit of a tom-boy who loved climbing trees and horse-riding. She quite resembled her father who was short and stocky, although she was well-proportioned. Freckles were scattered over her fair-skinned face which often looked sunburned. With her intensely red hair, green eyes, and button nose, she had a certain charm that drew people toward her. She was also a gifted conversationalist and often labeled a “little chatterbox.”

  Since returning to Stonegate, Carla had spent plenty of time close to her mother. The only thing that had kept her sane and alive in the prison compound was the thought of seeing her mother again. She promised herself that if she ever was lucky enough to return home, she’d spend more time with her. Growing up, she’d always been close to her father, going horse-riding with him, and learning archery from him. By the time she was seventeen, she was a skilled archer who could hunt as well as any man. She was wiry and strong for her size. She could draw a fifty-pound bow. She still enjoyed hunting, her favorite sport, whenever she could. The farm involved long hours of hard work, and Carla was usually out with her father milking the cows and looking after a few pigs, goats, and chickens. She loved practicing her archery and caring for animals but did not care for field work. Fortunately, her father never asked her to do that kind of hard farm labor.

  “When will you spend some time in the kitchen with me?” her mother had asked. “You know how to hunt for deer, but you can’t even bake a loaf of bread yet? Besides, I miss you and your cheerful chatter. You certainly are Daddy’s girl.”

  Carla had remembered those words when she was held captive, and now that she was home at last, she made it a priority to learn to cook and spend time with Betty, her mother, in the kitchen. It was fun being together, and they made many precious memories, baking bread, roasting turkeys, and preserving jams and pickles.

  “My strawberry jam is almost as good as yours, Mum,” boasted Carla, after making her third batch.

  “Why don’t you take some jam and jars of pickles over to Rachel? I don’t know how she manages over there on her own since her parents died. Oh, and do invite her and the other children over to dinner. I’m roasting a few chickens and potatoes, as well as steaming some fresh beans and peas from the garden. I’m sure she needs a break.”

  So Carla took a short walk, wandering over next door, arms laden with jars of preserves. Rachel was working in the vegetable garden with Howard and a few hired hands.

  “Just planting some corn and radishes,” she said, spying Carla out of the corner of her eye. “Howard, see that those few seedlings are planted, and I’ll take Carla in for a cup of tea. Goodness, what have you got there?”

  “Well,” said Carla, smiling, as she placed her assortment of jars on the round wooden table. “Mum sent pickles. These are jams and chutneys, and I made them all by myself.”

  Rachel burst out laughing. “So your mother’s finally domesticated you. Many thanks, Carla. I just don’t have time to make these anymore.”

  “Yes, that’s what Mum said. She thinks you need a break, so she asked me to invite you, Howard, Levi, and Lucas over to dinner tonight.”

  “That’s lovely…Howard and I would love to come. We’re alone here at the moment, though. I’ve shipped off the younger two to Aunt Florence’s for a few months. I do really need to rest a bit more.”

  “Here, Rachel, you sit, and let me make the tea. I didn’t come over to make you extra work.”

  Grateful for a chance to sit down, Rachel accepted the offer. “You’ll have to come over and visit more often,” she said with a laugh. “It’s not every day that someone offers to make me a cup of tea.”

  Carla boiled the kettle and carefully made a huge pot of tea. She set the table with two fine china cups and brought over honey and milk.

  “There’s a loaf of fresh bread cooling by the window. Maybe we should have that so we can try out your jam.”

  “Sounds good,” said Carla, as she poured Rachel a cup of tea.

  She noticed that Rachel was a little pale, with darkish circles under her eyes. She looked tired, though just as pretty as ever. Her kitchen was well-kept with everything tidy and neatly in place. The floors were swept clean, and fresh tea towels hung on a rack below the oven door.

  “Why don’t we take some time off and go hunting tomorrow?” asked Carla. “Ranger needs some exercise.”

  Rachel’s eyes lit up. “You know, I have been practicing with the bow, so I would love to go hunting…just to see how good I am. I haven’t done much hunting before, so this will be good practice. I’ve been so busy with working on the council lately; I could really use a break out in the hills. See, I even have a callous on my fingers.”

  “You certainly do. So do I. I know it does not look
very ladylike…But I don’t know how you do it, Rachel. Mum told me that you’ve stepped right into your father’s shoes, being a leader just as he was. You should be proud of yourself.”

  “No…just tired,” smiled Rachel. “I was so grateful that Aunt Florence came to my rescue and took the younger ones. It’s only for a little while, but I miss them already.”

  “Have you heard from Don since you saw him last at Owl Hollow?” Carla dared ask.

  A look of sadness crossed Rachel’s face. “No,” she answered softly. “And sometimes I think it’s best that we keep it that way.”

  “I’m so sorry it didn’t work out, Rachel. I know you still care for him. You can’t fool your best friend. But, you know, I’ve always wondered why Deborah told you about what happened. I really think she told you so that she could have a chance with him herself. A messenger came to Stonegate two days ago and I have heard some of the rumors.”

  “I heard about the messenger. We will probably discuss it at the next council meeting. What rumors?”

  “Well, I’ve heard that she is travelling with Don and some Western troops. I just know that she has her eye on him. One of the other girls said that Deborah deliberately told you what she did so you would leave Owl Hollow.”

  “I think that Deborah did the right thing in telling me. And whatever feelings I have for Don are clouded by the fact that I can’t forgive him for the death of my parents.” Rachel’s face flushed. She paced the kitchen for a few moments, then resumed her seat. But she shifted in her seat and her fingers kept tugging her clothes and smoothing her hair.

  “Rachel, Rachel, he risked his life to save you, to save all of us. And I’ve heard that it was the False Prophet’s men who tricked Don and set up a decoy. I believe that’s true because he is such a good man. He wouldn’t have rescued us if he weren’t. Or if he didn’t love you.”

  “I know, I know,” replied Rachel. “But he is not a believer, is he? How could I encourage a man who is not of our faith?”

  Carla took her hand and patted her shoulder. “Perhaps you should say he is not yet a believer. I sense that he is on a journey. Don’t give up on him.”

  “Oh, Carla,” said Rachel, “What am I to do? What am I to do?”

  †

  As the Hightower vote was being counted, Don and Samuel went to the stable to check on their horses. It was shady and quiet, and the animals were sleek, with noses buried in leafy, green hay. “Samuel,” whispered Don. “What about Owl Hollow? Bobby knows where it is, and he knows about the ammunition hoard.”

  “I know. We can’t delay even another hour. What do you suggest?”

  “That ammunition can’t fall into enemy hands. Perhaps we should send half the Blade troop to rescue our friends and retrieve everything that we can.”

  “But we need every man here. I have written Ariel several messages asking for at least one more troop but have heard no response.”

  “Send a messenger pigeon to Haven. Have Blackie go to Owl Hollow. He can rescue them. They will be safe enough behind the walls of Ariel.”

  “Unfortunately,” said Samuel, rubbing his thinning scalp, “we used the last pigeon. A messenger on horseback is the only possibility, but that may not be fast enough.”

  Chapter 10

  †

  The Persecution Begins

  A savage place! As holy and enchanted

  As e’er beneath a waning moon was haunted

  By woman wailing for her demon-lover!

  From Kubla Khan by Samuel Taylor Coleridge

  Dark clouds gathered in the western sky, promising rain. Thunder and lightning lit the horizon, creating an eerie atmosphere of intermittent light and darkness. A blood-red full moon looked down on the earth. Howling winds warned that hail would follow, possibly even sleet. A chill hung, both in the air and in men’s hearts. People feared that the weather was an omen, a portent of things to come. Some claimed that the rivers had turned red, that fish were dying, and that birds were falling out of the weirdness of the sky. It was a time of terror.

  A decree had been delivered to all the cities in the west and was posted for all to see. The new heliograph stations allowed the edict to be rapidly sent to all major cities under the Prophet’s control.

  Warning

  This is a decree from the Prophet.

  Anyone practicing the religion of Christianity

  or found spreading it will be immediately

  arrested and taken to trial. Christianity is an

  offence punishable by death unless it is

  renounced.

  Sealed and Signed by the Prophet,

  Martin Abaddon

  Prophet City

  Within days, fear gripped the people. Christians went underground, taking their faith with them. They again hid their holy books in caves, lest the Raiders find them and burn them. Even in the East, free from the Prophet’s rule, neighbors eyed each other in suspicion. The Decree was successful in terrorizing the Prophet’s people, but the main goal was that the Eastern cities would be riven with discord. Whether that would happen or not remained to be seen.

  Balek Brown had returned to the field from the summons to meet with the Prophet. He knew that he was lucky to have escaped with his head. But he was also angered at the sheer stupidity of the Prophet’s meddling. General Logan had been forced to halt his army’s march, and the overall commander, General Roundy, had been afraid to launch the attack on Steamboat in the meantime.

  Damn the man! They had to report to Prophet city in person, which was a round trip of well over six hundred miles. Even allowing for changing horses at relay stations and making the best time that horseflesh could manage, it had delayed the campaign by a full two weeks.

  Balek had set up his headquarters in a village called Craig. He had been assigned, with most of his Raiders, to support General Roundy. Roundy’s first mission was to attack and conquer Steamboat, thirty miles to the west, as soon as possible. While their forces were massing, the general staff was finalizing assault plans. Roundy drove his officers and staff without mercy, and they in turn drilled the infantry assault teams.

  General Logan’s army was encamped five day’s ride to the northeast and would not be needed in the assault. He delayed his return to his command for two days to attend strategy conferences. General Roundy wanted to confer about the problem of how to neutralize the threat of Steamboat’s guns and breach the walls. It was difficult for Balek to meet Logan in private, but they managed to share a breakfast under an awning overlooking the main training ground. The noise of infantry units drilling prevented them from being overheard, even though their meeting was public. Much less suspicious than stealing into Logan’s tent at night.

  “What did you think of our esteemed leader?” asked Balek, opening the conversation.

  Logan looked at him with hooded eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “My dear Balek,” replied Logan, “you must be careful. Surely you must know that some of our bodyguards are Black Caps. We are being watched.”

  “Perhaps caution is more dangerous than taking action.”

  “I take your point,” Logan said and paused, casually glancing around. “To answer your question, he seems more unstable than ever.”

  “His meddling has cost us weeks. We may have to do something about him. He is becoming unhinged.”

  “That statement alone could cost you your head. Or a dagger between your ribs.”

  “We might have little to lose. Even a cornered rat will bite, and I feel a bit cornered. Our bite can be sharper than any rat. But now might not be the time.”

  “A waiting game is best, but we must talk of this further, when we have opportunity.”

  “Very well,” said Balek. He picked up a scroll. “Here
is a report from a spy in the House of Healing. Perhaps that would be a safe topic.”

  “Indeed,” said Logan, leaning back in his chair and taking a drink of apple cider. “What does it say?”

  “The chief surgeon, Kerik, knows of the decree to suppress the old believers, for one thing.”

  “That was fast. I thought we had destroyed his heliograph network and set up our own.”

  “Largely true, but he somehow knows about it and is sending his Pilgrims out in all directions. Some to the East and others to the Diné and the Sonora Clan. Strange for a pacifist, but he seems to be calling on them to mobilize and send forces north to join with Stonegate.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “Our dear leader’s decree seems to have spurred him into action. It seems to be doing more harm than good. I fear that it is unifying our enemies, rather than causing dissension.”

  “I am not so sure. Reopening those old wounds in the East may still work to our advantage. But you should order the spy to remove Kerik,” said Logan. “He has gone too far this time.”

  “I agree that Kerik is intolerable. But I hate to risk losing our spy. He is a valuable source. We can always deal with Kerik later. Better to let him think we don’t know what he is doing.”

  “I don’t agree. Kerik is growing more dangerous.”

  “He is an able politician. But he might be replaced by someone more hostile. His military leader, Abel, would be even more aggressive.”