DemonWars Saga Volume 1 (179 page)

Jojonah fell silent; he knew that he would not be heard at that time no matter how loud his protests.

Abbot De’Unnero came next, detailing the events on the road that had allowed Jojonah to sneak away, opening a timetable during which the master could indeed have gone to St.-Mere-Abelle. “And I spoke with the merchant, Nesk Reaches,” De’Unnero insisted, “and confirmed that Master Jojonah had not returned to their encampment.”

A strange sense of calm began to wash over Jojonah, an acceptance that this indeed was a fight he could not win. Markwart had come here well-prepared.

He looked over at the fanatical Allheart soldiers and smiled.

Next Markwart called for one of Jojonah’s companions on the road to Aida, a monk who would no doubt explain to the gathering how Jojonah had manipulated the group away from Avelyn’s body.

Every piece seemed to be falling in place against him.

“Enough!” Jojonah cried, breaking the momentum. “Enough. I was indeed in your dungeons, evil Markwart.”

The gasps came louder, accompanied by more than a few shouts of anger.

“Freeing those imprisoned unlawfully and immorally,” Jojonah asserted. “I have seen too much of your wickedness. I watched it exact a toll upon gentle—yes, gentle and godly!—Avelyn. I saw it most keenly in the fate of theWindrunner.”

Master Jojonah paused with that last statement and even laughed aloud. Every abbot, master, and immaculate in this room understood, and approved of, the fate of theWindrunner, every leader in this room was complicit in the murders.

Jojonah knew he was doomed. He wanted to rail out against Markwart, to show the ancient texts that described the previous method of collecting stones, to scream out that Brother Pellimar, who had been on that journey to collect the stones, had also been murdered by this supposedly holy Church.

But there was no practical point to it, and he did not want to give everything away. He looked to Brother Braumin Herde then, the man who would take up his torch, and he smiled.

Markwart screamed again for a declaration of Avelyn as a heretic, then added that Jojonah, by his own admission, was a traitor to the Church.

And then Abbot Je’howith, the second most powerful man in the Order, rose tall and seconded the motion, and with a confirming nod from Markwart, motioned to his soldiers.

“By your own words you have committed treason against the Church and the King,” Je’howith proclaimed as the soldiers surrounded Jojonah. “Have you any offering of defense?” He turned about to face the congregation. “Will any others speak for this man?”

Jojonah stared up at the gathering, at Braumin Herde, and the man dutifully remained silent.

The Allheart soldiers swarmed over the master, and with Markwart and Je’howith’s blessings, so did many monks, beating him, dragging him away. As he was ushered out the door, he saw Brother Francis standing quietly, taking no part, seeming distressed and helpless.

“I forgive you,” Jojonah said to the man. “As does Avelyn, as does God.” He almost added the forgiveness of Brother Braumin, but could not go that far in trusting Francis.

And then he was gone, dragged from the room as the mob gained momentum.

Many were still in their seats, sitting quiet and stunned, including Brother Braumin. He caught sight of Francis staring up at him, but had only a glare to offer in return.

Later that same cold Calember day, Master Jojonah, stripped naked and placed in an open cage on the back of a wagon, was taken through the streets of St.-Mere-Abelle village, his porters crying out his sins and crimes to the nervous townsfolk.

Insults became spit, became stones hurled Jojonah’s way. One man ran up to the cart with a sharpened stick, stabbing the monk hard in the belly, opening a vicious wound.

Brothers Herde, Viscenti, and Dellman, and all the other monks of St.-Mere-Abelle, and all the visiting abbots and masters, watched it solemnly, some with horror, some with satisfaction.

For more than an hour Jojonah was carted about the streets, and he was a battered and broken man, hardly conscious, when the Allheart soldiers at last dragged him from the cart and lashed him to a stake.

“You are damned by your actions,” Markwart proclaimed above the frenzy of the excited crowd. “May God show you mercy.”

And the pyre was lit beneath Jojonah’s feet.

He felt the flames biting at his skin, felt his blood boiling, his lungs charring with every breath. But only for a moment, for then he closed his eyes and he saw…

Brother Avelyn, reaching for him with outstretched arms…

Jojonah never screamed, never cried out at all.

It was, to Markwart, the biggest disappointment of the day.

Braumin Herde watched the whole of the execution as the flames climbed higher, engulfing his dearest friend. Beside him, both Viscenti and Dellman turned to leave, but Herde grabbed them and would not let them go.

“Bear witness,” he said, and they were the last three monks to leave the awful scene.

“Come,” Braumin Herde bade them when at last it was over, when the flames had died away. “I have a book you must see.”

In the crowd of villagers, Roger Lockless also watched. He had learned much since his flight from the road south of Palmaris, from the monster that had destroyed Baron Bildeborough. In the last few hours alone, he had learned of Jojonah and the freeing of the half-man, half-horse prisoner, and while the news had given him hope, this sight had brought only despair and disgust.

But he watched, and understood then that the Father Abbot of the Abellican Order was indeed his enemy.

Far from that place, in the lands north of Palmaris, Elbryan held Pony close on an empty hillock, watching the rise of Sheila. The war with the monsters was over, but the war with the greater enemy, they both knew, was only beginning.

 
         Master - Table of Content

 
 1   Passion for Life

 
2   Jojonah’s Legacy

 
3   Private Fun

 
4   Precautions

 
5   A Proper Good-bye

 
6   Sitting on the Fence

 
7   Shifting Winds

 
8   The Bishop’s Initiatives

 
9   Trailblazing