Lions of Men

Chapter 14

Eudarius Healrose thought his war was over. For a moment he was convinced that he had now passed through the gates of paradise; God's promise to his saints to share in the inheritance of the incorruptible kingdom of his Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. A warm and inviting voice in the distance beckoned him.

But as the warrior prophet slowly opened his eyes, he made a grim discovery. The high moon gave him just enough light to see that he had been thrown into a dark pit, buried beneath the remains of his brothers who were attacked and slain by his arch-enemy, the Brudayans.

Eudarius lifted the head of one of his men away from his chest and stared into his open eyes. He trembled as he studied the man, an arrow plunged into his throat. He brushed the bodies aside and began whispering the Lord's Prayer, his voice quaking.

The leader of the one faith movement realized that he was covered in the blood of his men. A sob filled his throat, and he vomited uncontrollably. As he glossed over each of their faces, frantically searching for his son's, the unmistakable voice of Daylan called out to him once again, just above a whisper. Eudarius breathed a deep sigh of relief and silently thanked God for sparing his son. He recognized the irony that he had preferred to now be in the house of his father, rather than to awaken to this ghastly scene.

As he opened his mouth to answer, he began weeping so that his body shuddered. The more Daylan called out to him, the more Eudarius sobbed. An array of mixed emotions invaded his soul. He was grateful for his son's life but exceedingly sorrowful for the loss of his brothers.

"Father!" Daylan called out, again and again, his voice almost a shrill now.

"I'm here!" Eudarius finally replied, his voice cracking. He heard the boy thanking God as well. The shock and awe of his situation had momentarily worked as an anesthetic against the pain from the blow he took to the back of his head. But as he attempted to climb out of the grave, a searing sensation shot down his head to his back. He groaned and slumped to his knees.

"Father we must make haste," Daylan whispered urgently. "The Brudayanites might have spared us, but who knows what more Vulcur will do? You were just in deeming him, unhinged."

Eudarius waited for the pain to subside and looked out into the darkness, bleary-eyed. "Son, permit me to waste away hither with my brothers. I will only slow you down."

"I certainly will not," Daylan said. "I have fashioned a rope out of my cloak. Take hold of it and climb out."

Eudarius pleaded with his son to go without him, but seeing that he would not be dissuaded, stretched his hands to take the makeshift rope. When Eudarius had climbed out of the grave, he attempted to fall to the ground and rest, but Daylan held him fast and helped him back to the river.

It was nearly pitch black and humid. Sweat poured from Eudarius as he endured the long hike back down the steep hill, to the water's edge. He felt compassion for Daylan. The young lad had just witnessed the massacre of his family and now had to help his injured father to escape. Why would God allow such calamity to fall upon a boy? Daylan was old enough, his smooth face now showing stubble. But he was unlearned in the ways of the world. Eudarius had trained him in many facets, but Daylan had little experience.

"Good," the determined young man said. "Vulcur's men left the canoes. Now we won't have to swim."

Eudarius turned his head to look his son in the face. He wasn't sure if Daylan was attempting to make a joke, but he didn't find it funny.

"How is it that you are still alive, son? The Brudayanites aren't known for their mercy."

"Vulcan's orders," Daylan exclaimed, as he sat his father on a rock and hurried to untie one of the boats.