The men returning to council formed a much smaller and quieter group than before. Everyone sat around a large table in a private room. Some quietly eyed the floor, while others searched the eyes of their neighbors, wondering what choices would be made this night.
When everyone was seated, John stood and opened the meeting. “Gentlemen, how will we respond to the army on our western border?”
Devia stood. “I have already said that a parley is set for two days from now! Why don’t we wait to see the outcome of that meeting?”
“Discussion of such important matters should have come to us here at Stonewall,” said Peter Simone. “It is not fitting that James should decide such weighty matters alone!”
“You apparently do not trust James any more than I do?” Devia said with a sly smile.
“Oh, I trust James, all right,” Simone responded. “It is just that he cannot possibly know the entire mind of this council.”
“I have no doubt he will be glad to decide for all of you,” commented Devia dryly. “He seems to take delight in being in control.”
Simone’s only response was to shift uneasily in his chair.
“Do you mean that James could decide our fate without our input?” Cotter asked uneasily. He directed his question toward John.
“No,” John stated quietly. “A parley with James is useless. He has no authority to decide Amity’s fate. He has been assigned to defend Amity from invasion. This council has not even given him the authority to initiate battle unless he has been attacked. Once engaged in battle, he may or may not accept terms of surrender.”
“I wonder if your son’s time away from Stonewall has not made him a little headstrong?” countered Devia. “There is something a bit heady about commanding a division of armed men. He may respect the council’s advice, or he may ignore it.”
George Greenwold jumped to his feet. “I am incensed by your attack on James’s integrity! How dare you attack the lad when he is not here to defend himself? I cannot sit here and let you defame his character.”
“Peace, George,” John soothed. “No one feels the sting of these accusations more keenly than I. Time will bear out the truth or folly of James’s actions. Presently, I also trust his judgments.”
“It is noble for a father to trust his son, but not to the destruction of a nation!” Devia turned angry eyes upon George Greenwald. “However, I doubt not that this horse breeder will share the spoils when James becomes the supreme ruler in Amity.”
“Gentlemen,” John said sharply. “This meeting will not digress into a shouting match. Currently we have one suggestion on the floor. Master Devia has suggested we wait for the results and terms of parley. Are there other ideas?”
Surprisingly, Richard Woolsey suddenly stood, and though it was unusual for him to speak in public, he began. “Master Devia says he has no fear of the army on his border. I am glad for him, but those of us in Shepherd are not so confident. Our men, women, and children are prepared to flee if Green Meadow is attacked. We have been grateful for James and the garrison stationed there.”
Woolsey shifted uncomfortably. Every eye in the room was on him as he continued. “Our concerns have been growing for a long time. Many families have moved from the western slopes to our district in the last two years. They tell of bandits raiding homesteads and grabbing the oldest boys. The boys are then forced to join the bandits. If they refuse, their families are killed.”
Devia hissed through his teeth, but Woolsey plunged on. “Some of the families that have come to us have boys in Jabin’s service. They fear for their boys, and they fear for their own lives. That is why they have fled. They hope to be safe in Amity.”
“Where did you dream up such a wild tale?” demanded Devia angrily. “I have seen no immigrants passing through Green Meadow over the last two years.”
Woolsey suddenly turned to face Devia. “I’m sure you haven’t. They thought you might inform Jabin.” There was dead silence for a moment, and then Woolsey continued. “Admittedly, there is only one road crossing the pass, but the valley is fairly wide, and not all areas can be seen from the towers of your basilica.”
Devia stood tall and proud. “Are you accusing me of treason? That is some thanks for all the grain and wool I have moved to market for you. Don’t you understand that your well-being is because of me?”
The color began to rise in Woolsey’s neck, and he clenched his fists. “You steal ten percent every year!” he shouted.
“Those are customary charges,” Devia countered. “However, with such an attitude, your bales of wool in my warehouse may never find a market now.”
“You are a cheat and a liar!” Woolsey shouted, nearly coming across the table to get at Devia.
“That is enough, both of you!” John roared.
Several men grabbed Woolsey and held him back while Master Devia merely brushed his sleeves and calmly sat down.
“We can settle these issues another day, gentlemen, but for now, let’s get back to the business at hand,” John said firmly.
Ronald O’Towle stood. “Gentlemen, in Northglen, we are few and far between, being shepherds and such, but if a bear wanders into our area, we band together to destroy the bear or drive it back into the mountains. No one is safe until he is gone.”
He continued. “It would seem that Jabin is a predator lounging on our doorstep. If we allow him entrance, we may later wish we had not. Much can be tolerated, but this rounding up of boys and making them serve in a foreign army cannot be tolerated. It must stop. I say, if Jabin will immediately release all the boys he has pressed into service, leave these lands, and promise to never return, let him do so in peace. However, I do not think this kind of man will turn away so easily.”
There was a brief silence, and O’Towle went on. “I do not wish for war, but I fear this tyrant even more. I hope we will band together and not allow each community to fall victim to Jabin’s desire.”
There was a murmur of approval around the room. Master Devia looked straight at Andre Barleyman as if to say, “It’s your turn.”
Slowly, the fat man elevated his ponderous bulk, grunting heavily. His chair squawked a sigh of relief, if only for a moment. This sent a smile around the room, but Barleyman was unaware of anyone’s mirth.
Saliva trickled from the corners of his mouth and dripped from his chin. “Gentlemen, you are wrong to call Jabin a tyrant.” He looked straight at O’Towle as he spoke. “This man is offering financial liberty to us all. With all nations bound together, the opportunity for economic expansion is unbelievable. The barriers placed by unenlightened people will be removed, and products we produce and market here in Amity will be purchased worldwide. The wealth and prosperity that flow into Amity will rival any on earth. Surely you would not call that tyranny?”
“We could produce more coal if we had a market for it,” Coalman replied as Barleyman eased his bulk back into his groaning chair. “It would create new jobs, but everyone who wants to work already does. We would have to bring help from outside to mine and ship more coal.”
“Shipping is no problem,” smiled Devia. “We would be glad to assist you. Indeed, we have not hauled much coal yet.”
Jarod Steele snorted. “I’m sure you would like to help. I sent a shipment of weapons to Gaff via your company, and he complained that they never received it. Not only that, but your shipping rate was nearly double the standard!”
“The cost was higher because you were shipping into a war zone. Gaff lives in a war of his own making, and the risks of cargo loss are greater in the turbulent arena of such unstable men.” Devia sounded calm and matter-of-fact.
And so the discussion continued. Some seemed reluctant to confront Jabin, but most did not want to appease him. Through constant encouragement, John was able to weave a proposal together that he hoped most of the council would support. Amity would issue a call to arms and raise an army. This would not merely be a show of resolve. Amity would be ready to fight and even die to retain her freedom and her identity.
At long last, the council was ready to vote. “Gentlemen.” John addressed the group, signaling them to once again be seated. “Shall we raise an army with the intent to keep Jabin from entering our borders? How do you vote?”
The room grew suddenly still. One by one, each representative from the districts of Amity stood and gave his reason for assent or objection. It was a lengthy process, but when everyone had had his say, only Devia and Barleyman were opposed to the plan.
Vanderwick summed it up the best when he quipped, “We’re caught between a rock and a hard place, with no way to win. But I’d rather fall together than be picked off one by one.”
So the die was cast, and though Master Devia objected strongly, the council began to plan for war. Representatives from each community offered varying numbers of troops, though no one committed their full strength. Although most communities had some weapons and protective armor, war was relatively new to Amity. If this newly formed army did not repel Jabin on the western border, these stewards wanted some defense left at home.
It was when neither Devia nor Barleyman offered any troops for the effort that Woolsey jumped up in frustration, “I do not understand why we make plans for war while members who refuse to assist are among us. If they want no part of this, then maybe they should leave.”
“Aye,” Greenwold growled. “Get them out of here!”
“Wait!” John cautioned. “These men are still members of this council. However, I agree that it will look bad if our plans are known by the enemy.”
Devia glared angrily around the room. He remained silent, but his mind was working quickly. I may have lost this round, but this is only the beginning. I will show these fools! They can’t stop me. In a matter of days, James will be overwhelmed by Jabin’s forces, and no matter how many men are raised tonight, they will come to Green Meadow too late. The battle will be over, and Amity will fall. Because I support him, Jabin will place me on Amity’s throne, and I shall rule. And when I do, these men will pay.
In the end, little more than fifteen thousand men would march west to Green Meadow. There would be twenty-five hundred from Sebring, three thousand from Waterfront, and five hundred from Stonewall who would begin the journey that afternoon. Northglen would send five hundred men as soon as they could be mustered, but they would be several days behind the others. Capri offered two thousand men, as did Deep Delving. Zaraphath was a large community, so it was glad tidings when Jarod Steele offered thirty-five hundred strong and capable men. Shepherd was a sparsely settled region, but it lay nearest the troubled area, except for Headwater and Green Meadow. Woolsey promised a thousand men to the effort and Vanderwick three hundred. Besides men, Vanderwick offered five hundred horses to be used for commanders, messengers, scouts, the injured, and any other needy personnel.
John summoned the messengers of Stonewall and made them available to each council member. By daylight, horses and riders were being ferried across the river. Each bore instructions to the communities to which they were being sent. Preparations were to be swift, for timing was essential.
The council was about to adjourn when Master Devia rose and signaled his intention to speak. After the long night, his voice was shrill. “Gentlemen, you have made a serious mistake. The world is changing, and you don’t seem to care. Don’t you see that the Almighty One has empowered the Lord Jabin to unite our world, not destroy it? Our heavenly Father desires that all should become equal in this life. There should not be rich and poor, affluence and poverty, wealth and want. These things cause envy and strife. People attack each other in an attempt to attain things they do not have.”
Seeing that he had everyone’s attention, he continued. “If you fight against the Lord Jabin, you may just find yourself fighting against the Divine One himself. I implore you; it may not be too late to avoid this disaster you have planned. The Lord Jabin, whom you describe as a tyrant, is doing the Holy One’s work by making peace through unity. He wants all men to have their own homes and their own jobs. Under his plans of expansion, there will be many new jobs created. The homeless will be housed, the oppressed will have justice, the weak will be made strong, and the proud will be humbled. Why would you fight against one with such noble designs for mankind?”
John responded quietly. “There is no peace, except that which is found when we give ourselves to Jesus Christ. Avoiding war is a noble concept, but it is not the essence of true peace. Part of our calling in this life is to stand for truth, to fight injustice, and to protect the innocent. I appreciate your concern for Amity, but this is the path that most in this room feel is best for the people. Only our heavenly Father can determine the outcome, but for our part, we can place our trust and confidence in Him and ask that His will be done.”
John watched Devia sadly turn to the messenger assigned to him and give his instructions. One by one the stewards of Amity bid John goodbye and gathered with those who had come with them, to begin their journey home. Not only were the men exhausted from the all-night debate but no one was certain how their decision would turn out. It was a very subdued group that left Stonewall that day.
Greenwold cornered John Stafford. “Sir, I mean no disrespect, but I fear Devia will spill the beans to our enemies when he gets home. We’ll have no element of surprise.”
“I understand what you are saying, George, but Master Devia doesn’t know everything,” John said softly. A sudden sadness filled his voice. “You know, I really think Devia believes Jabin is doing a good work. I don’t understand why he is so blind.”
Later that afternoon, John moved through the crowd that had assembled on the watchtower. He took a position near the left side and leaned against the cool stone wall. From his vantage point he could barely make out the ferries below, but he knew they were transporting men from Sebring to Stonewall and then to Waterfront. It was going as well as he could expect. With great interest, he watched as men hugged their families goodbye. Long rows of men issued from Sebring’s armory; all were helmed in black with a sword by their side. All carried a shield in one hand, and most carried a spear in the other.
We might have a chance, he thought, and he hoped the cost wouldn’t be too high. John tried to put himself in these men’s shoes. Green Meadow was nothing more than the name of a town to most. Though Sebring was a large city and goods came to her from both the river and the sea, most of her people did not travel beyond the city limits.
There were notable exceptions. Rolph Gammel, the captain of his own merchant ship, was now a squadron commander. He had traveled a great deal and had experienced many adventures firsthand.
A swift movement caught John’s eye. On the narrow streets of Sebring, a young woman dashed toward the departing tug, waving her arms and shouting wildly. Though the tug was already several feet from shore, the girl raced without hesitation toward the departing structure and leaped with all her might. Strong hands caught Katherine Gammel before she hit the water, and they were rewarded with a curtsy and a smile, which melted every heart on the ferry.
John smiled. Philip must be on the embankments of Stonewall, waiting. Had Katherine only known, she would not have had to hurry so quickly. Philip was not marching west today, for John had placed him in charge of Stonewall until this mess was over.
That decision had created a firestorm at the council last night. Many felt that Philip was merely a lad with no experience. Others felt that he was all schoolboy and no guts. Though words like wimp and ninny were left unsaid, they were strongly implied. It hurt John to think that people felt this way about his youngest son, but he was confident that Philip would prove them wrong.
John turned and descended the watchtower’s long flight of stairs. He walked briskly to the stables to prepare his horse and then proceeded to Stonewall’s armory. There he found his own men busy getting ready. Their faces brightened, and they snapped to attention as he entered. “At ease,” he called, and each man returned to his tasks.
John selected his armor. He had no special weapons, and he preferred it that way. He claimed one special horse, but otherwise he was only a soldier of Amity. He packed his gear while listening to the general chatter of his men. It was rather subdued. He had hoped the men would take this task seriously, and they did.
Strapping on his weapons and hoisting his knapsack, John strode outside into the late afternoon sun. He was headed back to the stables to collect his horse when he spied Philip and Katherine walking hand in hand across Stonewall’s courtyard. When Katherine saw John, she dropped Philip’s hand and stepped behind him, but not too far.
“Father!” Philip said when the three met in the courtyard. “Won’t you reconsider and let me go in your place? It is I and not you who should ride to war. You should stay here and govern Amity in her hour of peril.”
Ignoring Philip’s question, John leaned round his son to wink at Katherine. “It is always good to see you, young lady.”
A happy smile brightened Katherine’s face, and she curtsied low. “Thank you, my lord.”
Feeling suddenly young again, John grinned and turned back to his son. “Now, what is all this noise about? I’ve given an order, and I expect it to be obeyed.”
“But I am no leader,” Philip protested.
“You underestimate yourself, Son,” John said, gripping Philip’s shoulders in his big hands. “You are intelligent, and you surround yourself with wise friends. A capable man needs only a test in order to be proven. This is your test. I know you will do well.”
“But … Father!”
“No buts! I expect you to stay here and assist people in any way you can. You are to maintain order if possible. I expect suffering will come to all, and I know of no one with more compassion for humankind than you. You will do an excellent job. Simply remember others. The greatest burden of leadership is that you must fight for others rather than yourself. You must never use the position of leadership to gain for yourself power or prestige. Now, are you ready to assume your position?”
“Very well,” Philip sighed. “I will submit to your will, though I would rather march west with the men.”
“So would I,” John laughed. “Someone has to stay, and this task is best served by you!”
Turning to Katherine, John asked, “Will you watch us assemble?”
Eyes sparkling, Katherine nodded with such vigor that auburn hair swirled about her face. Brushing aside rebellious strands from her dark eyes, she asked, “May I?”
“Certainly!” John exclaimed and pointed to the watchtower. “Philip can take you up there where you can see everything and everyone assembling across the river.” Turning to Philip, he said, “You will do that for me, won’t you?”
Philip laughed. “Between the two of you, I don’t have a choice.”
John grew suddenly serious. “Philip,” he said in a low voice, “not all counsel is good. Choose carefully to whom you listen. We have already spoken at some length about different policies you might employ. Do you have any questions?”
“No, sir.”
“Base your decisions on good counsel, the Holy Writings, and common sense. Some distraction is healthy, Philip, but beware of too much.” John tipped his head and winked in Katherine’s direction, causing the poor girl to blush a deep shade of red.
John suddenly wanted his family to know he cared for them. Impulsively, he grabbed both Philip and Katherine, pulling them close. “Come with me to the stables, and then you can climb the tower.” Striding toward the stables with Katherine on one side and Philip on the other, he sighed. “I’m so glad to have you both here.”
Upon reaching the stables, John parted company with them for a moment, and on his return he led a dark-gray gelding. Though the mount was gentle, a fire still smoldered in his eye.
The three walked in silence to the foot of the watchtower. Standing in the shade of a great oak tree, they watched the movement all around them. Men from Sebring streamed through the southern gate of Stonewall and marched out the northern gate to be ferried to Waterfront.
They heard a trumpet blast and turned to watch the men of Stonewall gather and then march to the ferry.
John turned to Philip. “I leave you five hundred men for your defense, Son. I pray you will not need them. We do not know the future, but these are good men, and they will serve you well.” Stepping out of the shade and into the late afternoon sun, John turned and said, “Now I must go. Climb the stairs and witness the mustering of Amity. I pray the Lord Almighty will guide your steps!” He turned, led his horse swiftly toward the ferry, and never looked back.
The Greenway was already crowded, and yet more men poured onto the rutted pathway. John pushed his way through the crowd toward a small, flat-topped building. Handing his horse’s reins to a lad nearby, he found a ladder and climbed to the top of the building. He had a good vantage point and could see the gathering quite well. Signaling to a man below, a trumpet sounded, and the gathering grew quiet.
John raised his hand and began to speak. “Today marks a new chapter in our lives as we seek to defend our freedom in the face of tyranny. No one who sets foot on this path will remain the same.
“Join me as we yield ourselves to the Lord in prayer. Our heavenly Father, take notice of these, Your people. Forgive us our sins, and empower us to march forward in the strength of Your Spirit. Become our shield and our protection. Guide us with wisdom, and guard us from all enemies of truth and justice. Whether we live or die, allow us to glorify Your name. We pray these things in Jesus’s most holy name, amen.”
John turned to address the women and children gathered near the road. “To you I give a difficult assignment: trust God, wait, and pray! There is no armed soldier on any battlefield as loathsome or dangerous as the demon of fear. He will haunt you and attack you at the least expected moment, but you must conquer him. And when you have conquered him twenty times, he will come at you again. He can be beaten, but only through the power of prayer and by trusting in the Lord who reigns on high.
“Pray always for your men. They will advance on foot, but you must advance on your knees. Your prayers will release the power of the Almighty upon the battlefield. So again I charge you to keep the faith. Wait and pray.”
At John’s signal, three sharp blasts from a trumpet transformed the men standing casually in the road into rows and rows of black helms and shields. For a few moments, John marveled at the sight of six thousand men standing shoulder to shoulder. Ten abreast, the rows of men stretched a long way in both directions down the Greenway. For one fleeting moment, a sense of power surged through John’s veins, but the words of Master Devia brought him quickly to his senses. It is a heady feeling to be in command of a large host of soldiers.
Descending the ladder, John saw a tearful young woman holding an infant and restraining a toddler. Though the girl was trying to look brave, it was clear that her heart was breaking.
John’s shoulders drooped, and a great heaviness fell upon his soul. Taking the reins from the lad who held his horse, John swung astride the great gelding. Making his way to the front of the line, he raised his spear and shouted with a fierceness he did not feel, “To victory!”
A great shout rose behind him as soldiers and families alike echoed the call: “To victory!” With the shout came a cadence call, and men began the long march to Green Meadow. Stepping in time, row upon row of men marched west into a beautiful sunset on the last day of peace in Amity.