The Last Summoning---Andrew and the Quest of Orion's Belt (Book Four) (36 page)

The crowd gathering around them gasped with
fear, and trepidation.

“Yes, this is a great crime, a great evil,”
the judge’s voice rang on. His voice was loud and thick, as if his
tongue was much too large for his mouth. “How very peculiar. How
very odd. How very strange. Pray tell me what is it that you find
so interesting in that book of yours? And a sword, why bear you a
sword? The blind have no need for weapons, nor words.”

“The blind have many uses for weapons, and
words,” Lancedon replied, “both are powerful, and both as sharp as
they are dangerous.” The man scowled at Lancedon with distain. He
walked around Lancedon, inspecting the blind warrior with careful
eyes. “Words, and swords are dangerous…yes. They are very
dangerous. Too dangerous. Only a few are privileged to wield such
things. Only those with the proper authority. You, are not one of
those.”

Lancedon straightened himself and faced the
man as if he really saw the man standing before him in all his pomp
and fine clothes. “It is the not a privilege, or a right to bear
such things. No. It is our divine heritage. To learn, to read, to
bear arms, and defend oneself is intrinsically ours. Just as an
animal is born with claws, it is our duty to use what we have been
given to defend what is naturally ours. Just as we do not need
permission to breathe, we do not need someone to tell us that we
can or can’t do, how we can or can’t live. Nor are some people more
worthy of breathing. Nor does one require a right to breath. It is
inherently ours, to breathe, and live. To live as free men!”

“Silence!” The pompous man roared, “Silence.
You have spoken treason! You will be punished, along with…” He
paused, and sniffed the air as if he had smelled something very
unpleasant. Then he leaned in closer, and sniffed Lancedon. “Ugg.
He smells filthy. What do you have to say for yourself you filthy
beggar. For I’m sure that’s what you are, for you can be no other.
Don’t you know that it’s as against our laws to beg as it is
against our laws to be dirty, stinky, and disfigured? You could be
fined very heavily for your crimes, taxed, and perhaps
executed!”

Lancedon set his jaw, looking very kingly and
noble, even covered in mud. Though his eyes saw nothing, they
glistened a deeper brown than ever before, as if though veiled in
darkness, he saw the heaven’s themselves. “I am not a beggar!”

“If you are not a beggar, then who are
you?”

Lancedon breathed in deeply, scanning the
crowd as if seeing every last person who had gathered to watch. He
could hear the ripple of murmurs and their voices, and the energy
of their hard stares as they looked at him. “I am a voice!” He
cried with such power and emotion that it cut through the crowd
like a sharp knife, piercing all who heard him. “I am Lancedon, son
of a king. I am a bearer of truth, and I will not keep silent. You
seek to punish me because I am blind. But if I am blind, how much
more are you? For you cannot see the great bondage that you
yourselves are now in. You cannot see the oppression of your own
people. You, who claim to see, grope in a darkness far more
paralyzing than my own. What has caused this blindness, what has
caused you to forget? How can I wake you? You who are slaves but do
not know it. Do you not see that the world is heading into
darkness? We must try to stop it before the chains that bind us are
too heavy for us to move. Now is the time! There is no middle
ground, no safe place. We must rise together. Peace has been taken
from the earth.

The only peace we can find now is to fight
the power that is trying to destroy us. You have heard. Now listen.
And open your minds to the awful state you are in. If these are the
last words I have to say, then I will say them. There is coming a
binding so tight, so powerful, so evil that once it has gotten
hold, it may never let us go. We must fight it now, while the light
still shines. For when the darkness has come, it may be too late.
You must show the world where you stand. So stand with me! Today!
They have come for your firstborn, they have come for your weapons,
and it may not be long until they come for your lives. What will it
take for you to wake? What will it take for you to understand that
the power you have given to this great evil will consume you? It
will devour you until you no longer exist!”

“Silence, beggar!” The judge roared, his face
purple from anger. “Silence! You are a fool, and an idiot. Stand
with you? My people will not stand with you. A beggar, a filthy
nobody. Stand against what? We are happy, we are not oppressed. We
are perfectly content and secure. This darkness you speak of is
something you have created out of your own dark mind to scare my
people. You will speak no more!”

“No!” Lancedon roared. “I will not be
silent!”

The judge, now fully enraged, smacked
Lancedon across the face with his rod, bringing him to his
knees.

“We have heard quite enough. You are a raving
lunatic. Who ever heard of a blind beggar stirring up people to
fight? You have condemned yourself, ten fold. You will be punished
along with a girl, a stranger brought in just a moment ago. Bring
her forth. She too will be dealt with.”

“Coral?” Lancedon cried.

The judge narrowed his eyes, and folded his
arms. “So you do know her? Good. I supposed as much for you both
are crazy.”

Coral was thrust next to Lancedon.
“Lancedon,” she cried, pulling him into a tight hug. “I’m sorry I
left you. You must have felt so alone.”

“You’re here now.” He gripped her with
trembling hands. “Are you okay?”

She nodded. “Yes. I’m fine.”

“Where’s Zeechee and the others?” he
asked.

Coral shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Silence!” The judge snapped. “You two are
not to speak unless commanded to do so.” “You may do whatever you
wish with me,” Lancedon replied. The judge smacked his lips
together, and laughed. “My, but you are so very gallant.” He
grinned, causing his fat cheeks to bulge, as if he held a large nut
in his mouth. “But that, too, is outlawed. There’s so much
counterfeiting going on. No one knows what the real thing is
nowadays. One can’t be too careful. Only the very precise may
practice gallantry, and that is only if you have a certified
certificate.”

Lancedon backed away from the judge. He could
feel the heavy judgment in the voice of the man who condemned him.
Yet he knew all of it was a lie. All was a façade. Their endless
laws were merely to keep the people in constant fear. There was no
room for error. All was cold, brittle, and ready to crack. All
Lancedon had to do was press hard enough.

“Do you have to have a certificate to be a
puppet as well?” Lancedon asked. “You seem overqualified for the
job.”

The judge glowered at Lancedon. “Actually, I
was the top of my class. Graduated with honors. But you know how it
goes. You always end up somewhere that only uses a fraction of your
talents. I could have been so much…more…”

“I see,” Lancedon smiled, “I think you are
using quite enough of your talents right here.”

“Really? You think so?”

Lancedon just smirked, seriously wishing he
could put the man in his proper place.

“What are you thinking?” the judge snapped.
“You looked as if something very dark just crossed your mind.”

Lancedon’s smile grew wider. “A man can think
can’t he?”

“No. He can’t. It’s against the law to have
dark thoughts.”

“I was having no such thoughts. Only very
pleasant ones. One where I was knocking you over the side of the
head with the blunt end of my sword. It was a very good thought
indeed. Very pleasant.”

The judge’s eyes grew wild. His face pinched
into a horrible scowl. “You are sadistic, and evil! He raged,
sending spit flying into Lancedon’s face. “Thinking such thoughts
is a crime, a very serious crime. We must punish these strangers
for their crimes. For both of these horrible people have broken
more laws than I care to mention today. Not to mention that that
man is blind, and both are strangers. To be a stranger is a capital
offence, and to be seen walking our streets, with a weapon and a
book, and to publicly voice one’s opinions are very bad. There’s no
end to the damage he may have caused today. Feelings may have been
hurt. Thousands offended. And on top of that, I’m sure both of them
have not paid their stranger tax for entering our fair city. No,
and I’m sure they have not paid the sidewalk tax for walking on our
streets, nor the snow tax for walking in the snow, nor dirt tax for
bringing in grime from the outside world, nor paid their tax for
wearing clothes not of our make. For these and many other such
crimes, such as bearing weapons, and being in possession of an
outlawed book, they are worthy of the harshest of punishments.
Perhaps death.”

“No!” Sterling’s voice rang out through the
crowd. “It is you who deserve death!”

“Yes!” Zeechee’s powerful voice said in turn,
answered by the voice of his men. The loud declaration rippled
through the crowd as prisoners, and outcasts from deep within the
city seeped in through the gathering, bearing swords, their faces
filled with defiance. The crowd stared in amazement at these bold,
brave, outlaws. The very same people they had let be dragged away
and imprisoned, people much like themselves, and very unlike them
in many ways. These outcast and slaves were people who thought
differently. They were people with voices that stirred up troubling
thoughts. They were people with different ways, and different
ideas. Some were people whose skin was a different color. Some were
people who did not comply with every rule, nor did they pay their
taxes, or respect to their great judge Willcicle. These were great
evildoers, and lawbreakers indeed.

These outcasts now preset, gathered together
in one place, for all to see. The sight of so great a number of
lawbreakers, slaves, and prisoners was astonishing to those who
dwelled in the city. Those lawbreakers standing before them did not
look so different than they. They did not look evil, or vile, or
bad. They only looked different, refreshing, and new. They even
smelled fresh, like a cleansing rain. In fact they looked better
then they themselves, who were clean, and disinfected of every
impurity.

The outcast’s numbers were great, almost
greater than those who lived within the city. It was breathtaking
to see. It was powerful and moving. Though these people had been
shut away and swept under the carpet, here they were. Their eyes
were clear, their faces gaunt, and their jaws set in righteous
anger. Though Lancedon could not see any of this, he felt the power
in their voices. In that moment he knew that Sterling and Zeechee
had succeeded. He had been right. The city had contained fragments
of truth, and those fragments were now all gathered together
united, and strong.

The judge’s face filled with anger and
surprise as he scanned the crowd which was now full of all manner
of impure people who had been outlawed by The Fallen himself. These
were people who had been hidden, tucked away from ever being seen.
People who dared defy the law, and were now standing before him.
The sight disgusted him to the core.

Misty shafts of light from forbidden, unsaid
words drifted over the gathering, whispering outlawed words that
should have never been said, should have never been heard.

The judge shook an angry fist in Lancedon’s
face. “This is your doing. I shall have your head for this!
Guards!” the judge howled. “Get them! Kill them. All of them! And
catch those words before any more damage is done! Quickly! Let none
of these misfits escape!”

At the judge’s cold, cruel words, the city,
once filled with hollow words, and hollow faces, and cold eyes and
frozen souls, suddenly cracked in half, not able to bear the weight
of both opposing forces of heat and ice now within it. The sound
was so loud that it caused the ground to shake, and pieces of the
city walls to shatter.

The warmth of Lancedon’s words and the shouts
of those who followed him were too much for the icy city to bear.
The number of imprisoned, and suffering could no longer be hidden,
no longer be denied, and passed over. The great indifference that
had caused the city to freeze over, melted, fracturing the city at
its foundation, causing a great dividing. The earth rumbled. It
felt as though something great and good, and wonderful had just
happened.

In that moment half of the people of the
city, people whose hearts had iced over, people who hadn’t cared,
people who had been indifferent, and unfeeling for many, many
years, began to feel, began to see, began to look, began to
listen.

The freed words that had gone on before had
thawed their minds just enough for Lancedon’s words to penetrate
their souls, and cause a great thawing.

Soldiers poured through the crowd towards
those whom Zeechee had freed, towards the city’s own outcast, with
the intent of silencing them forever.

Suddenly the crowed exploded like a great
body of water held in place for many years by a weakening dam.
Voices all spoke at once. Cries and the clashing of swords filled
the air. All was heat, and sweat, and blood, and tears, and
resolve.

“No!” The judge howled. “No! This can’t be
happening. Not in my city. No!”

Coral cried out and slugged the soldier
holding her. Then she pushed the judge off Lancedon’s sword, and
quickly picked it up. “Lancedon!” She cried, raising the sword, and
holding it aloft. “Stay behind me.” She grabbed Lancedon’s hand and
pulled him through the mob.

As if carried by an unseen power, Coral and
Lancedon fought their way into the heart of the mob, where Zeechee
and her brother were fighting.

Lancedon was lifted onto a horse, and urged
on to the front of the throbbing crowd. A sea of men and women
poured around them, their eyes filled with fire, their voices
filled with strength. The crowd gathered momentum and pushed their
way through the city, a force doubled in strength by its long
silence. A cry ran throughout the city of Summit, a cry that had
never before been heard. The sound caused every frozen, icy,
unbending part of the icy city to crack, and fracture. This
cracking caused warmth to flood in and awake their souls to the
sound of their own voice. A voice they had not heard in a very long
time.