Read Online Martyr's Fire by Sigmund Brouwer - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sigmund Brouwer
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Druid, would already be familiar with this. You, as a Druid, would have confidently stepped down and walked across, even without light to guide you. That you are reading this means you are not a Druid, for in that shallow, dry moat, I have placed a dozen adders .
Adders! Snakes with venom so potent that only a scratch of their poison could kill. A dozen adders! In the darkness, the puppy had not growled at the drop-off, but at what his nose had warned him of.
Thomas scratched the puppy behind the ears and shuddered at what might have happened had Gervaise not urged him to make the leap of faith.
Thus you now have my trust, Thomas. I regret I could not give it earlier. There is much to tell you, my friend, and I fear by the time you return to Magnus, I will not be alive to be the one who reveals to you the epic struggle between the Druids and the Immortals who were established by Merlin himself .
Merlin! Mention again of the ancient days of King Arthur. For Merlin, King Arthur’s advisor, had become as much a legend as the king himself!
I cannot say much in this letter, for who is to guess what others may stumble across it, should you not take the leap of faith to be the first to arrive here. Let me simply ask you to consider the books of your childhood. It was not chance that they were placed near you, those books of ancient knowledge from faraway lands. It was not chance that one of us was there to raise you, to teach you, to guide you, to urge you to reconquer Magnus, to show you the way. It was not chance that I spread the legend of the delivering angel shortly before your birth .
These new words were not the piercing of an arrow, but now the bludgeoning of a club. Gervaise knew of those precious books hidden near the abbey? At the significance of the message, Thomas could hardly breathe. He remembered the night he had conquered Magnus on the wings of an angel, how the entire population of Magnus had gathered enough strength from his arrival to overthrow its evil lord, simply because of a legend all believed. This had been planned before he was born?
Yet none of this knowledge I could share, Thomas, much as I treasured our conversations. For many years passed with you alone in the abbey. We did not know if they had discovered you and converted you. We did not know if you were one of them, allowed to conquer in appearance only so that we might reveal the final secrets of Magnus to you, secrets so important I cannot even hint of them now .
To arrive here, you trusted me. I beg of you to continue that trust. Your destiny has grown even more crucial—we did not expect the Druids to act so boldly, so soon. Even now, perhaps they have the power to conquer completely. You, as a born Immortal, must stop them .
“A born Immortal. I am a born Immortal? Gervaise, how can you reveal so much, yet reveal so little?” Thomas protested aloud.
Follow this passage, Thomas. It will take you to safety. Return to your books and search for the answers in them. Ask yourself: Where is the source? Trust no one. The stakes are too high. The Druids must not prevail .
“Recount for me, my daughter, how events have unfolded since our arrival here in York.” Lord Mewburn spoke to Isabelle in his usual commanding tone. “Tell me how I ensured the earl would be imprisoned.”
The two of them were alone in the great dining room with elaborate hanging tapestries covering the stone walls. He was a large man with a dark and heavy beard, his face with the permanent flush of one who enjoyed too much wine far too often. He sat at a table with a flagon of wine in front of him.
Isabelle sat primly across from her father, her hands folded on her lap in the posture of modesty that she’d been taught since she was a child.
She knew why he was doing this. To make the point that she was wrong to doubt whatever he was going to tell her next. But to mention this would be a sign of insolence. And Lord Mewburn had no patience for insolence in any form.
Adders! Snakes with venom so potent that only a scratch of their poison could kill. A dozen adders! In the darkness, the puppy had not growled at the drop-off, but at what his nose had warned him of.
Thomas scratched the puppy behind the ears and shuddered at what might have happened had Gervaise not urged him to make the leap of faith.
Thus you now have my trust, Thomas. I regret I could not give it earlier. There is much to tell you, my friend, and I fear by the time you return to Magnus, I will not be alive to be the one who reveals to you the epic struggle between the Druids and the Immortals who were established by Merlin himself .
Merlin! Mention again of the ancient days of King Arthur. For Merlin, King Arthur’s advisor, had become as much a legend as the king himself!
I cannot say much in this letter, for who is to guess what others may stumble across it, should you not take the leap of faith to be the first to arrive here. Let me simply ask you to consider the books of your childhood. It was not chance that they were placed near you, those books of ancient knowledge from faraway lands. It was not chance that one of us was there to raise you, to teach you, to guide you, to urge you to reconquer Magnus, to show you the way. It was not chance that I spread the legend of the delivering angel shortly before your birth .
These new words were not the piercing of an arrow, but now the bludgeoning of a club. Gervaise knew of those precious books hidden near the abbey? At the significance of the message, Thomas could hardly breathe. He remembered the night he had conquered Magnus on the wings of an angel, how the entire population of Magnus had gathered enough strength from his arrival to overthrow its evil lord, simply because of a legend all believed. This had been planned before he was born?
Yet none of this knowledge I could share, Thomas, much as I treasured our conversations. For many years passed with you alone in the abbey. We did not know if they had discovered you and converted you. We did not know if you were one of them, allowed to conquer in appearance only so that we might reveal the final secrets of Magnus to you, secrets so important I cannot even hint of them now .
To arrive here, you trusted me. I beg of you to continue that trust. Your destiny has grown even more crucial—we did not expect the Druids to act so boldly, so soon. Even now, perhaps they have the power to conquer completely. You, as a born Immortal, must stop them .
“A born Immortal. I am a born Immortal? Gervaise, how can you reveal so much, yet reveal so little?” Thomas protested aloud.
Follow this passage, Thomas. It will take you to safety. Return to your books and search for the answers in them. Ask yourself: Where is the source? Trust no one. The stakes are too high. The Druids must not prevail .
“Recount for me, my daughter, how events have unfolded since our arrival here in York.” Lord Mewburn spoke to Isabelle in his usual commanding tone. “Tell me how I ensured the earl would be imprisoned.”
The two of them were alone in the great dining room with elaborate hanging tapestries covering the stone walls. He was a large man with a dark and heavy beard, his face with the permanent flush of one who enjoyed too much wine far too often. He sat at a table with a flagon of wine in front of him.
Isabelle sat primly across from her father, her hands folded on her lap in the posture of modesty that she’d been taught since she was a child.
She knew why he was doing this. To make the point that she was wrong to doubt whatever he was going to tell her next. But to mention this would be a sign of insolence. And Lord Mewburn had no patience for insolence in any form.
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