A Golden Calf

“How dense were these people? They had just walked through the red sea on dry land after seeing a mini-apocalypse in Egypt, and now they’re worshiping idols?” So the rant went—on and on, filled with a supposedly righteous anger, furiously condemning the Israelites of the Exodus. The presupposition was obvious: I would never have done that if I were them! I know what that speaker was assuming, for she was me. By God’s grace, I have grown older and a little wiser since then, and, with that maturing has come a realization: human nature is unchanged. We, even we who know Christ, remain prone to the same spiritual amnesia that the children of Israel exhibited in the Exodus era. There are many incidents that exhibit Israel’s sin and parallel our own, but I will focus on one. The golden calf the Israelites fell before was the first great sin of the newly liberated Israelites, and there were many facets to that transgression. Many of these aspects feel uncomfortably familiar to our day to day attitudes.
The first verse of Exodus 32 tells us how this sin began; it started with an impatient people. Moses was taking his time up on the mountain, and the restless tribes grew tired of waiting for God. They had seen Him work in the past, but it had been some time. The smoking, blazing mountain had become a common sight, and they had ceased to tremble before the sight. We Christians often fall into this same sin. The original joy of salvation slowly fades and answered prayer become a distant memory, not because God is no longer answering, but because we have ceased to pray. The blazing mountain of daily outpourings of common and special grace become so mundane we no longer even see them. And how do we respond to this dullness? How did the Israelites respond?
“Make us gods who shall go before us!” Ah, but I have never made such a demand—have I? Have you? Why do heretical books like Jesus Calling and The Shack fly off the shelves in Christian book stores? The church has determined that they need another—or a better—edition of Christ. Make us gods—Christ, the Christ of the gospel, has become inadequate. The Bible feels antiquated, and we demand more, and by more, we mean other. If we wanted more, we would dive into the Word, but we seek a god more suited to our lifestyle. In our impatience, we demand a god who will work in our time-frame.
Having expressed their desire for another god, they proceeded in their sin by making themselves one. Their chosen god was a calf—a popular object of worship in the godless culture of Egypt which they had been so miraculously freed from only a short time before. Once it was built, Aaron spoke these damning words: “These are your gods, O Israel, who brought you up from the land of Egypt!” After creating their own god, a god to suit their tastes, they ascribe to that abomination the name of Yahweh (see Exodus 32:5). This is pure blasphemy. This is modern Christianity. The pseudo Christian self-esteem movement is a prime example. We take the god of our culture—the god of self—and fall before it, claiming that we are worshipping Yahweh. Some have audacity to say that Jesus’s sacrifice made a statement of our personal worth; the glory of Christ is traded in for the glory of self. Many of us who look with scorn and hatred on the self-esteem movement still trade Christ for an idol in other areas. This is why the vast majority of our modern worship are centred on man. This is why modern Bible studies encourage us to twist Scripture to suit our desires. The God we claim to worship has been replaced with the golden calf of self.
The final sin there at the foot of Sinai that dark day was committed by Aaron as he made excuses for his own part in the business. Blame-shifting is the oldest sin in history, and it is alive and well in the church today. It is a temptation at this moment as I write this paper. I long to point the finger at culture or “mainstream Christianity” as I speak of self-worship and impatience, while the finger of God points back at me, asking the piercing question, “What have you done?” To accept the guilt of our own sin is a constant struggle. Aaron failed, and so do we. But this leads into my final point.
There is one very notable difference between us and Israel at this point. When Israel sinned, God’s just wrath descended, leaving three thousand corpses in the camp of Israel. Moses interceded for them, but Moses was a mere man, and, upon seeing the people’s sin, his plea for mercy turned to fury. When we sin, where is the wrath? Though we treasure selfish idols, we are not obliterated. Why? It comes down to the intercessor: Israel had a fallen man, but our intercessor is the perfect Great High Priest. Jesus Christ has absorbed the wrath we have earned and continue to deserve as we stumble and backslide, so there is no wrath left. There is no condemnation. Israel was under law—the very beginning of the law—but we are under grace. Praise be to God for His great grace in our great sin!

Chapter 18

"Dropped or lost, we've no time to search for them--what use will those scraps of paper be to us when Elni is in flames?" Eldan seemed unconvinced, so Aevin went on. "I will not stop you if you want to go after them, but you know safety is found in groups. I am asking you to come with us to Elni."

                "And I'm coming." Eldan replied at length, casting a rueful glance back at the bushes. She shouldered her crossbow and started forward. Aevin followed while Kalen rushed to pull together his gear before they were out of sight. That girl could set a hard pace.

                She strode along in stony silence. Kalen had never known what to do when Syriel was angry, and Eldan was even worse. Never make a girl mad. He determined to make it a rule of his life. Aevin, on the other hand, was in the best of spirits. He effortlessly kept pace with Eldan, smiling broadly and pausing to make cheerful remarks about the birds songs or the beauty of the forest. Excessive optimism used to grate on him, but somehow, coming from Aevin, it put Kalen at ease.

                "Tell me about the mountains, Kalen. What was it like growing up in their shadow?" Aevin had to repeat himself twice before Kalen realized he was being addressed.

                "Well, it's..." Kalen had never given the mountains any thought. They were just a part of life in Elni. "It's shadowy. The sun sets early, and the winters are very cold. The soil is shallow and difficult to farm on the south side of Elni."

                "I suppose all beauty comes with a price. One can marvel at the sun on the leaves of the Dinab, but I would not raise a family with the wild beasts found here. With all beauty, you must determine if it is worth the cost, wouldn't you agree?"

                "I supposed so." Kalen's attention was more focused on the branches trying to slap him in  the face than Aevin's musings. "How far are we from Elni?"

                "Nearly three days still. We're near Terraphel, so we will need to go a little out of our way if we would avoid their scouts."

               

                Eldan dropped without a sound. For a moment, Kalen thought she'd fainted, but the Aevin pulled him down to join them in the underbrush. The dark, seamless stone walls of Terraphel could just be seen through a gap in the bushes.

                "Someone's been busy." Kalen followed Aevin's eyes. He could just see the legs of the horses, row upon row, trudging out of the gate on overgrown, cracked hooves. A cavalry--poorly kempt, but impressive in size. Since when had Fellyre used horses in war? They were foot soldiers--they always had been and always would be. Not only would this cavalry make them more formidable, but--

                "We can't outdistance that. They'll be at Elni by dawn tomorrow." Eldan's tone was flat. "We've failed."

                "Ever stolen a horse?" Aevin rose to a crouch, taking a careful step forward. "We'll have to ride hard, but it is the only way. Did you ride in the Elnite cavalry, Kalen?"

                "Yes--but not often. Horses and I don't--"

                "If you've been on a horse, you'll be fine. Eldan?"

                "Of course."

               

                The procession dragged by like a giant centipede. Their slow pace was both promising and frustrating. They would make poor time if they continued thus, but Aevin's plan had to wait until the final stragglers left Terraphel. The last few came in a cluster of eight--more than they needed, but not impossible to take down if Eldan knew how to use that crossbow she so proudly carted around.

                "Wait." Aevin caught Eldan's arm as she set a bolt from her quiver on the string. "Not yet or you'll bring the whole force down on us." They sat in silence, Eldan impatiently practice-aiming, as the horsemen disappeared it rows into the trees. They were riding north-west; Kalen hoped that indicated an intent to skirt the forest the long way, adding almost a full day to their journey.

                Thwump! The final rider dropped like a stone from his mount.  The next horse reared in terror, sending its rider to the ground in cloud of dirt and curses. A horn sounded the alarm, adding to the frenzy as inexperienced riders tried to turn their frightened mounts. Kalen was on his feet in an instant, silently cursing Eldan's impetuousness. Aevin was two steps out of the bushes before they realized she hadn't fired a shot.

                A second ambush--but there was no time to think about that. Aevin spun his spear once in his hand, then descended into the fray with Kalen on his heels, under the cover of Eldan's crossbow fire. Aevin's spear took the first man, lodging under his ribs and ripping him from the saddle. Taldyr's lessons on taking horses returned as Kalen dodged the flailing hooves of an injured horse to catch the girth of a nearby saddle. The rider swung at him, and he ducked beneath the mount's belly, hooking his axe in the strap and dropping his full weight into it. He hung for a moment, wondering if he had made a terrible mistake, then dropped as the strap split, sending the rider hurdling after his own sword stroke. "Only cut the girth if you can mount easily bareback..."  He cursed his own idiocy and stuck the axe back in his belt to free both his hands. Aevin was already in the saddle charging the scattered warriors, his spear lowered like a jousting lance, and his distraction served for Kalen to catch one of the riderless horses. The beast made only a feeble attempt to avoid him; Fellyrians clearly believed in breaking any spirit from their horses.

                The moment Eldan had claimed the remaining beast, Aevin wheeled his horse around, calling them to follow. Kalen caught a glimpse of one of the other assailants--a long-handled glaive swept around like a reaper's scythe, severing horse legs and human limbs with every stroke. A piercing, single-note war cry rang through the clearing. What kind of madman--

                Assassin. She grinned, relishing the carnage, leaving horses and riders writhing in their death throes. There was no time to wonder where she had come from or what she was trying to do; Kalen wheeled his horse around and galloped into the trees after Aevin and Eldan.

                The gallop lasted less than a minute before the beast fell back to a loping walk. Of all the horses to steal...He kicked it with all his force, eliciting a brief canter that quickly gave way to a lazy attempt at a snack on some tall grasses. After repeatedly stopping to wait for him, Aevin finally took the reigns and led it by force.

                Some hours had passed before they heard the first sounds of pursuit. Aevin ordered Kalen to mount up behind Eldan, leaving his lazy beast loping down a side trail as a decoy, but the sound of hoofbeats behind them did not even hesitate. Eldan pushed her horse on, cursing Kalen's weight for slowing them, while Aevin circled round to bring up the rear.

                "Kalen! For Taril's sake, give us a chance to catch up!" Eldan ignored Jaened's voice and kicked the horse harder.

                "Eldan," Kalen gasped over the jolting of the horse's lively gait. "Eldan, it's Jaened. Should-n't we wait up?"

                Aevin reigned up, shouting for Eldan to do the same. She obeyed without a sound, and, in another instant, Jaened and Assassin emerged from the bushes behind, their horses snorting and stamping in protest as they slowed their pace.

                “Greetings, my friends,” Assassin’s sarcastic grin descried her friendly manner. “I trust you are all well?”

                “Be damned, Assassin. If you—”

                “Eldan.” Aevin had a skill for silencing people with a single word. He turned to address Assassin. “Will you hinder us? I have seen your skill, but you are outnumbered.”

                Assassin threw back her head in a loud harsh laugh. “I, hinder you? I saved your bleeding lives back there. Lead on, Tassin. Consider me your guard—or not, as you so please.”

                Aevin nodded abruptly and wheeled his horse around, pressing on towards Elni. The rest followed, Eldan cursing under her breath, Kalen half in shock. Had Aevin gone mad? May as well invite a wild Naresh into their company!

                Aevin maintained a hard pace and, as night shadows began to descend on the forest, they reached the crest of Thyra Hill. They pulled up briefly to get their bearings. Elni was hard to spot even from the heights at that hour, but there was no time to stop for the night.

                Much to all of their chagrin, it was Assassin who sighted the city and set them on their course. There was no denying her skills—that was what frightened Kalen most. Thyra Hill was a six hour ride from Elni. They covered it in four. Kalen felt the horse stagger under them as they came upon the gate; the beast would likely die within a few hours. He’d once cared about such things, but, with the whole city in danger, a broken old horse’s death meant nothing.

                Aevin dismounted and set to pounding on the gate with the blunt end of his spear. No answer came.

For the Broken

O Church, come and behold the world
See where sin's banner waves unfurled
Face the suffering, touch the pain
See the innocence Satan has slain

Know the darkness, feel the grief
The devestation of unbelief
Remember that could have been you
For only grace has brought you through

How can we stand and let them fall?
Can we ignore the gospel's call?
"O come you weary, come the broken
Come, unknown, with pain unspoken."

How will they come if none will go?
 How will they see? How can they know?
Raise up the fallen, seek the dying
Feel the pain, share in the crying.

Arise, O Church, and seek the lost
Open the Word, uphold the cross
Bridge the divide, take down the rope,
And let out cry be "There is HOPE!"

Battle Worn

An ordinary girl. An ordinary life. Late nights, early mornings; caffeine and sugar alternating with inspired bursts of healthy eating. Final year of high school--life would be easier if you didn't binge-watch TV and stayed off social media. But teens will be teens.
Graduation flies by in a flurry of photos and friends. First job, first car--a world of possibilities spread out before her, riddled with hopes and fears.
A good life, a clean life: a role model for our children. Look to her, daughters, look and learn.

Be not deceived.

A crushing blow, a shattered shield--an ambush in another realm. Oh, you who think you stand! Cast down, thrown to the earth; the gentle path beneath her feet is vanished. A stinging blow from her oldest foe: the other one. The other her. The one they killed. Its wounds gape, bloodless and blackened. The eyes are glazed with death, and yet from its throat rises a hollow laugh.
"You are dead! Return from whence you came!" She strikes out at it with her blade. O fool, to fight the foe alone! It has it's minions--they rise up to its defense and her destruction. One she has never seen before seizes her by the throat, lifting her to dangle, struggling, inches above the ground.

Beware lest you fall

A sudden falter. We pause and look once more. Perhaps we should seek another role model. Or was it just--Oh! Coldness, deadness, fear and failure--was this the one we praised so highly? What has she done? Where has she gone? Why this distance--why the silence?

If they but knew

Heaven preserve; hell, do not rise! The second realm is bleeding through. The falls, the blows, the fierce attack--she feels it even here. Hiding away, cloaking the truth, slowly takes its toll. Weariness, pain, grief and despair--must this be endured?
At last, in struggle long and fierce, the minion falls. Crumpled, gasping, thanking the Glory for this sword, she lies exhausted on the earth. To weary to rise--silent surrender. Just where her enemy would have her be. It lifts her unresistant form, carries her down, far down below. She wakes in a silent cell. Alone, imprisoned, and yet... At least she is not being beaten. At least here, she is not hurt. The way of escape cannot been seen, nor yet the will to seek it.

This cannot touch the other realm

She's looking better--not what she was, but certainly improving. A cleaner life, a brighter smile--who cares what it might hide? We will not send our daughters to her, yet we approve her parents' pride. Moving on, growing older. Working, living, planning, dreaming--she is doing well. So we move on and soon forget her faltering. She is a good girl, is she not?

Hidden things must come to light

A young man, handsome, good and kind. Another role model. A rising leader. Acquaintances, friends--whispered rumors, quiet laughs. Smiles, chatting, then a question. Stirring her hopes, yet raising her fears. If he but knew of the prison cell! He lives in both realms, as does she, yet she lies rotting while he lives free. Unworthy, defeated--I fell before my foe! He cannot know, and yet he must--for his sake and for hers.

Know the truth

War weary, rising slowly from the dust. His foes have fallen back from his last onslaught. Sword unsheathed, he leaves the field. A captive's cry has reached his ears. One who surrendered to the foe--his friend from the other realm. He enters the unguarded prison. None in this realm expect a rescue. The foes does not foresee friends meeting in this realm. All wander alone and fight alone. But not this time. A clang, a crash--the heavy iron door swings wide.

This is freedom

Arise, friend, do not give up the war! You are free--we can escape. He speaks to her of his own foes, and lets her tell of hers. He knows defeat as well as she, yet strives on to the promised victory. Side by side, they leave the prison, armed and aware. To harm her, her foes must get through him, and likewise, her sword is turned against his enemies. The journey's long, the foes are many, but by the Glory's grace, they are ready. Where one may fall, two will yet stand. We will fight this war together.

"Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil. For if they fall, one will lift up his fellow. But woe to him who is alone when he falls and has not another to lift him up!"

-Ecclesiastes 4:9-10

Chapter 17

Grevvin--or whatever his real name was--met them on the ground at the base of the ladder. He was wearing the masked helm again, with the mask tipped back to show his smiling face, and a pack slung over one shoulder. Eldan and Aevin walked past him without a second glance, but Kalen couldn't. For a good reason: Grevvin was walking backwards directly in front of him, grinning like a jester.
"What's wrong, lad? You're new friends told you to beware of a crazy old man?" He spoke rapidly, mincing his steps to keep from tripping. "Ah, yes, I see they have. I see it in those eyes. I see it right there!" Kalen blinked and jerked back as Grevvin's finger jabbed at his eye. "But lucky for you, I've taken a liking to you, Kalen, boy. You and I--we're alike. I'm just what you need to become the man you're meant to be!"
"Ryel, Undrien, Grevvin, whatever your name may be, you are not coming with us." Eldan caught the man by the shoulder of his jacket, spinning him around to face her. "Until you prove otherwise, I see you as our enemy. At best, you're a fool and would be a hindrance to our mission. But I never assume the best. Get back up that tree while the Tassin will still take you."
"Ah, because they won't take you any more, will they, lady? They don't know you're here, do they, my dear? Though they should be accustomed to it by now--nation of traitors and all." The bright laugh at the end of his statement could not have been more ill-placed. Kalen saw the murderous fury in Eldan's eyes as her went for her sword.
"Eldan." Aevin's hand caught hers just in time. Grevvin took several rapid steps backwards and tripped over a root. He regained his footing quickly and, without hesitation, drew a short mace from his pack and smashed the root to pieces with a single blow. He brandished the weapon at the ground.
"You don't have me yet, oh no, not I! It won't be that easy, not that easy. I have slain your betters." Seeing a man threatening dirt and plants would have been bizarre enough, but, to Kalen's dismay, he proceeded to attack the soil with a renewed fury. Sod and mud flew as the assailant bellowed furious epithets and threats, vowing to kill that which had never been alive.
At Aevin's quiet suggestion, they took their leave of the madman while his attention was wrapped up with his imagined foe.

They had been fighting their way through the denser forest for some time before anyone spoke. Kalen waiting until Eldan's pace slowed, evidencing her temper had dissipated.
"Are we actually breaking the Tassin law?" It was directed to Eldan, but Aevin replied.
"Yes and no. The Tassin have no written law, and that may be there downfall some day. But there is a generally understood code of brotherhood and loyalty to the Archior, both of which we have broken."
"But Grevvin said the Tassin had laws--laws with severe penalties."
Eldan coughed. "Kalen, you do realize you are speaking of the man who is currently engaged in mortal combat with a lump of dirt? He knows nothing about the Tassin. One of our scouts found him unconscious, half-drowned in the river six months ago and brought him back to our camp. Since the moment he awoke we have gotten no true tale out of him, so he has gotten none from us. He is not permitted to leave the Scevva on pain of death, so he wanders about our camp uselessly, raving and laughing like a lunatic. We can't kill a man who's done no harm, but there are times when we are severely tempted. He'll drive us all as mad as himself if we do nothing."
"He's no longer our concern." Aevin's tone silenced Eldan and he went on. "What is our concern is where the Fellyrian army is. Did you two see this force?"
"No." Kalen replied, "But we did hear them, and they shook the ground.  A force of that size would have to move slowly. Even if they've passed us, we should be able to get ahead if we approach Elni from the west."
"The only route to the west would pass too close to Terraphel." Eldan objected. "We should go direct--that army enough noise for an avalanche. We'd hear them long before they detected us even if they've passed us."
"I'd sooner face the guards of Terraphel than the whole Fellyrian army. We'll go west."
"Aevin, there's something we haven't told you. Kalen and I took something from Terraphel--something they are intent on getting back." Eldan drew out her arrows and turned her quiver upside down, dumping out the three little scrolls into her hand. "I don't have the faintest notion what they are, but--"
"Paper! Definitely paper!" They all started as Grevvin stepped out from behind a tree, grinning confidently. Eldan's hand closed tightly on the scrolls. "Parchment to be specific. I've seen it before, I have!"
"Return to the Scevva, Ryel. You're not coming with us." Aevin's tone was calm and measured. "If you persist in following us, we will be within our rights and moral bounds to kill you. This is your final warning."
Grevvin didn't even look at Aevin, but turned to Kalen with a smile. "He doesn't like me, lad. There's no fairness in that, now is there? But you, my boy, you're my friend." He slung an arm around Kalen's shoulders. "I'll protect you, Kaden, and you'll do the same. We have each other's backs. Kaden and Drydar--we'll be a team Fellyre will never forget!"
"It's Kalen. And I thought your name was Grevvin," Kalen slipped out of Grev--Dry--whatever--'s grasp and turned to face him. "I'm with Aevin."
Grevvin's face fell. For a moment, Kalen thought he would burst into tears, but he just shook his head. "Very well, Kaden. I have been betrayed by friends before, but I never thought it would be you. Friendship be damned. Every man must watch his own back," He grinned suddenly, all signs of sadness gone. "Including you, lad, including you! We will meet again, my boy. Of that, be sure." With that, he turned and retreated towards the Scevva, chuckling to himself as he went.
"Should we wait until he's out of si--"
"No--I'm not wasting any more time on his account," Eldan interrupted Kalen. "Pray Ithien we haven't delayed too long already."
"It's a four day journey, Eldan. A few minutes is no great loss." Aevin pointed south with his spear. "We will take your route."

Travelling was maddeningly slow. They had been walking scarcely an hour when the tall trees gave way to dense willow brush, catching at their clothing and trapping their ankles. Eldan was nearly choked when a branch seized her crossbow, pulling its bindings tight across her throat. She avoided Aevin's eyes as he quickly freed her, but there was no need--his easy smile as he helped her to her feet held no accusation.
By the time the willows gave way to a semblance of a clearing, there was barely enough daylight left to find their footing. They stumbled on, Eldan still leading the way with regular grunts and gasps of pain followed by warnings about roots, rocks, and thorn-bushes. Finally, she turned back to Kalen and Aevin, who was bringing up the rear.
"I can't keep going. I don't even know if we're still headed south. The moon's not out, I don't see any stars--even Fellyrian scouts couldn't set a straight course in this dark. We have to rest. I'm sorry--I just can't keep going."
"By all means!" Aevin laughed a little. "I was praying you would let up soon--I can scarcely feel my legs."
Kalen sank to the ground. Eldan could set a hard pace, and even the prospect of Elni being destroyed could not keep him on his feet. He saw her unstrapping her crossbow...laying it against a...a...
"I swear, I had them in my jacket!" Eldan was half-screaming. For the sake of all that is merciful, it's the middle of the night! Kalen rolled over, burying his face in his elbow. A dull ache in his side sharpened with a sudden throb.
"You could have dropped them. It's a wonder we kept hold of anything in that thicket last night." Sleep began creeping in again--last night? He opened his heavy eyes to the unwelcome sunlight as his brain slowly sorted out the argument taking place a few feet away.
"Not where I had them. This was laced up to my chin last night. Look--it's been cut right here."
"No one could do that without waking you. When your crossbow caught, it must have--"
"It didn't." Eldan cut Aevin off. "This isn't torn. Someone stole them." Kalen sat up slowly--ouch. The pain was from the ax hilt in his belt.
He glanced up at Eldan. "What's been stolen?"
"The scrolls from Terraphel. All three are gone."

Chapter 16

"...and the Selvran Plains will be reclaimed." A voice somewhere ahead of them slowly grew more clear.
"Reclaimed to what end, Archior Zarr?" Kalen recognized Aevin's voice. "We are too few to populate the plains. Even if we overthrow Fellyre--if, by some madness, they do leave their city defenseless--the beasts of the Dinab will overrun the land."
A glow of torchlight show for only a moment in the tunnel before them before Kalen was pushed out of the tunnel into the council chamber. He missed whatever Aevin said next. He could only stare at the beauty of the cave. Some three or four hundred people stood in a semi-circle by the side of a faintly glowing milky blue lake in a cavern so vast that he could not see the far end. The ceiling could be seen only faintly, shimmering and casting rainbows across the stones in the light of dozens of enclosed lamps, set at random in crevices and shelves of the rock. Vast, upside-down icicles of stone rose, straining to meet their counterparts descending from the ceiling. Strands of crystal ran--
"Kalen." He started at Eldan's voice. Oh, yes. She was mad. Every inch of her looked on the verge of explosion, but she took a long, slow breath. "Kalen. What in Ithien's fair, sweet earth are you doing here?"
"We found him in the passage. Friend of yours?" The man holding him asked Eldan.
"Friend is a strong word, but yes--and he's harmless. He hasn't taken the vow yet, but I'll see to that. Leave him with me and return to your post."
"You don't give orders here, Tellisade. You're under me. Go--the tunnel's unguarded. You're not needed here."
Eldan paled slightly, but obeyed without protest, leaving Kalen under the watchful eye of the heavily armed guard. A few more steps brought them in sight of the speakers.
A broad-shouldered man with a closely cropped white beard was seated on a rocky outcropping spread over with several cloaks. Aevin, Hallin, and one other man stood before him. Hallin was speaking.
"As the noble Archior has said, even if Elni withstands the full force of Fellyre, we have no reason to believe they will not send their armies out to hunt us as they have before. They are not our friends, as Fendrel would have you believe--that much is obvious. But nor are they neutral allies as Aevin claims. There is blood on Elnite hands--Tassin blood. And there will be more if we attempt to aid them."
"Elni is a city, with women and children, not just an army," the third man--Fendrel interjected. "You would leave thousands of innocents to Fellyrian butchery and ravishing for a distraction? Just because you have abandoned all humanity does not mean we should follow you in this madness! How many of us have friends and family in Elni? Would you see them tortured--would you see their severed heads places on Fellyrian pikes while--"
"Enough, Fendrel." The old man rose and all fell silent. "People of the Dinab." A murmur of acknowledgement ran through the crowd. "You have heard this case out. It is for you to vote now: will you follow Fendrel and Aevin to attack and delay Fellyre's advance on Elni, or will we follow Hallin to Fellyre and take the city while its army is abroad?" The crowd began to stir as people divided into two groups. The guard behind Kalen released him to go and stand proudly at Hallin's side. Kalen stayed where he was--he was in enough trouble as was--and watched as the verdict was passed for the death of his people. Forty or fifty people stood by Aevin and Fendrel while the rest of the Tassin formed ranks with Hallin.
The council was quickly dismissed by the elderly Archior. The crowd filed out, paying Kalen no heed. He followed silently.

Grevvin met them at the tree. He stood smiling by a shallow hole in the earth, holding a large stick, and bowed low to everyone as they passed, addressing them at random as lords and ladies, or captains and priests. No one spared him a glance.
"Kalen! Kalen, lad!" Kalen was yanked out of step by Grevvin's grip on his shoulder. "You're not dead!" He prodded Kalen's forehead. "Yessir, the boy's survived!" He shook his head, looking at the hole. "A blessed waste of time, a blessed waste of time. Ah, well, that good fortune of yours can only hold out so long and when it runs out," He thumped the ground with the stick. "I'll be there."
"Kalen, we need to be on our way." He had not seen Eldan come up behind him.
"Ah! Eldan Tellisade, lady of Syxel." Grevvin gave an exaggerated bow. "How gracious of you to grace us with your graceful presence! You would not take my new young friend away so hastily, would you, my dear?"
"Indeed, I would. Come, Kalen." Kalen followed her back into the tree-village and down a different route, straight to Aevin's hut.
"Grevvin wasn't hurting anything. He showed me the way to the council."
Eldan stopped in her tracks. "His name is not Grevvin, and, whatever he has told you, he is not your friend. You're hard enough to keep out of trouble without fraternizing with a Calcidonian."
"A man from Calcidon," Aevin explained, coming up behind them. "The mountain realm. No one knows his real name. He has given a dozen or so different titles for himself over the past seven months he's been here. He's either raving mad or playing some absurd game with us. He's not to be trusted--that much is certain--but he may prove a friend in time." Eldan snorted, and Aevin added, "Ithien help you when you need a friend, Eldan. You can't expect to get through life trusting no one--we weren't made for that."
Eldan declined to argue the point, but ducked inside the hut and set to strapping her discarded gear back on. Aevin pulled a light mail shirt over his head and laced a sleeveless leather jacket over it.
"This should fit you." Kalen caught the leather plate-armor doublet that Aevin toseed back to him. The shoulders were a little broad, but the buckles on the side held it firmly in place. Aevin took to the back of the hut and returned with a small store of traveler's food--biscuits, nuts, and dried meat--and a bundle of weapons, strapped together with a sword belt. Eldan was content with her sword and crossbow, so the men divided the rest of the weapons. Kalen received a short axe and three knives, two for throwing and one long blade, while Aevin bound two straight swords in crossed sheaths to his back and took up a long spear.
"So where are we going?" Kalen asked as they stepped out on to the bridge.
"Elni." Aevin pointed south with his spear. "The rest of the Tassin may follow Hallin and the Archior, but no one should have to face that force unwarned. If their king has any sense, Elni will be emptied by the time Fellyre lays their seige."
"I wouldn't wager on King Dyestan's sense." Kalen almost said more, but he thought better of it. Perhaps Dyestan would prove reasonable. Perhaps donkeys would fly.
"Then let us pray his people can differentiate between loyalty and folly." Aevin smiled a little. "If most Elinites are like you, we have reason to hope."
They set off quickly across a few bridges, while Kalen tried to digest the compliment. What had he ever done or said that made Aevin think that?

Chapter 15

The hut was empty when Kalen awoke. He could feel the noon sun beating down on him through the doorless entry way. He rolled over with every intention of going back to sleep. The council! Where were Aevin and Eldan? Surely they wouldn't have gone without waking him--that council would decide the fate of his home! His father, Syriel, his cousins, his friends, the neighbors--they wouldn't deny him a say in this choice! They couldn't.
He made the mistake of looking down as he stepped out on the bridge. His dinner briefly felt inclined to reappear, but the feeling passed after a few unsteady steps forward. Looking around, he noticed that that bridge was one of many, strung like vines throughout the treetops, connecting narrow platforms and low, nest-like dwellings similar to the one he had just left. He could not recall having seen any activity in the trees earlier, but the fear of the council taking place without him seemed confirmed. Where in this bird's kingdom would they meet?
He wandered from bridge to bridge, searching for any sign of life. The huts were all empty and virtually unfurnished. He found what seemed to be an armory full of leather and wooden armor with the only metal found on a few pilfered weapons of Fellyrian make.
One hardened leather helm with an intricately carved mask lying in a heap in one corner caught his eye. It seemed strangely out of place amid the simple, utilitarian designs of the rest of the armor and weaponry.  Briefly forgetting about the council, he leaned closer for a better look. It was beautiful--possibly the best craftsmanship he had even seen. Then it moved.

Kalen screamed a full octave higher than his voice should have been. A long, loud laugh met his alarm as a figure stood up from the pile and removed the mask, revealing a thin, lined face fringed with scraggly dark grey hair. The man grinned, revealing two--possibly three--long, crooked teeth. He shot out his hand and seized Kalen's, shaking it vigorously before Kalen could begin to recover from the shock.
"Grevvin--Name's Grevvin! And what might I call you?" He half-shouted.
"K--Kalen."
Grevvin slapped him on the back with a force that nearly sent him sprawling. "I scared you good there, lad--scared you good!"
"Yes--you did. That was--why were--"
"And don't you worry, Kalen. You won't always sound like a ten year old girl!" He burst out laughing again, shaking his head. "Scared you good, scared you good." He muttered happily, patting Kalen's shoulder.
  Kalen stepped back on to the platform in front of the armory, out of reach of Grevvin's excessive friendliness.  With a little more distance between them, he could see the man more clearly. He was not really so very old--perhaps Kalen's father's age, clean shaven (if he had ever grown facial hair, which seemed unlikely). He was shorter than Kalen and muscles clung in knots to his starved limbs. He smelled of months unbathed. And he followed him out and across the next bridge.
"You're new here, aren't you lad? Didn't get an invite to the council, did you?"
Kalen turned abruptly. "The council--where is it? I need to be there."
"Ah! So you just slept in! Oh, lad, that is a habit you need to break yourself of. Oversleeping--shame, shame." He let out another guffaw, clapping his hands together with a violence.
"That doesn't matter--I have to know where it is."
"Then you'll have to follow me, Kalen, boy. No amount of telling and directing will get you there of your own. This here's the forest and it has many a tree, many a tree indeed."
Kalen restrained himself from remarking on the obvious nature of that statement. They walked along in silence, aside from Grevvin's regular mumbling and laughing to himself. He was sure-footed, even if his sanity was questionable.
"So why weren't you at the council?" Kalen asked at length.
Grevvin pulled up abruptly and turned to him. "Because they think I'm crazy." He put his head very close to Kalen's, lowering his voice. "But I have a secret."
"Okay..."
"I'm not!" Grevvin announced and set off again quickly, leaving Kalen none the more enlightened to his new friend's condition. The winding net of bridges and slender support lines finally gave way to one single bridge, so narrow Kalen would have missed it altogether without his guide. The bridge ended in a massive, branchy fir tree, and, without hesitation, Grevvin began swinging down from branch to branch. Kalen followed carefully, picking his way along the prickly branches.When he finally dropped to the ground, he found Grevvin lying on his back with his eyes closed.
"Grevvin?" He leaned over the man. "Are you--"
"Aye, I'm awake!" Grevvin started up so fast that Kalen was nearly knocked over. "Well, lad, I was thinking you'd break your neck climbing down. Never touched a tree before, I warrant!" He hooked an arm around Kalen's shoulders. "If you fell, I was thinking where I'd bury you. That's a pretty place, isn't it?" He pointed to a small bed of blue flowers at the foot of one tree.
"It is indeed, but I don't need burying. Where to now?"
"Ah, this way. And don't worry, my boy, you'll have your burial day yet." A short walk led them to a little, grassy hill that Grevvin circled around. Kalen found himself questioning Grevvin's interest in burial when the old man pointed him to a hole in the side of the hill, just large enough for a man to pass through. "In you go! We're almost there."
"I'd rather you lead."
Grevvin, for once, did not laugh. "Oh, my lad, I daren't. I'm not supposed to be at these meetings. We have laws here and laws are not to be broken. Spying on the council is death."
Kalen hesitated, trying to gauge his sincerity. "That seems an excessive penalty."
"Well, you can argue that with the council! And if you're not supposed to be here either, my boy, you'd better get back where you came from as quick as you can run." Grevvin grinned, "Or you can assume I'm lying and find out for yourself." He pointed to the hole.
"I am supposed to be there. They're discussing the fate of Elni--my home city. No one would contest my right to a place in this council." Kalen ducked inside the entrance. "Where do I go inside?"
"Just follow the tunnel. I'll be digging."
"Digging?"
"Your grave, lad. And thinking up a worthy epitaph to your noble stupidity."
His rattling laughter followed Kalen into the tunnel. Cold air blasted up from some unseen lake as he turned corner after corner, moving slowly in the impenetrable dark. He had made a mistake. He did not see them coming.
His face hit the floor of the cave. Before the shock could give way to pain, he was hauled to his feet. He bent forward as his captor twisted his arms up behind him. He was forced forward down the tunnel in silence.
He could only think one thing: Eldan is going to be so mad.