The Last Summoning---Andrew and the Quest of Orion's Belt (Book Four) (32 page)

Andrew nodded, “Agreed.” He turned from the
being, and exited the tent, with Flicker following behind him. A
horn was sounded, and his men were quickly assembled. Andrew stood
in the midst of his army. His heart felt heavy. As he looked into
their young faces, he could see himself in their eyes, the way he
had seen himself when he was living in the Hollow---hopeful,
expectant, full of plans for the future and too young to know that
there might not be one. Ten thousand souls, some women, some old
men, some young men. But all brave, all strong, all dedicated to a
cause they had just begun to fight for. A cause powerful enough
that they were willing to sacrifice everything for it. Willing to
question, willing to see and hear, and listen to truth, and accept
it, even when they could have willingly believed a lie, then lived
with it.

Yes, Andrew thought, as he gazed into their
resolute faces. These were the finest of the earth, these 10,000,
the first responders, the first to hear the call. The first to say
enough is enough, the first to do and say what needed to be done.
So this is how it was all to end. No more army was to be summoned.
All had come to this point. They were it. There would be no more.
Ivory had said that Gogindy was going to ring a bell made from the
swords of men who had fought for their freedom in great battles.
This bell, once rung, would ring through the hearts of men and wake
the world.

Yet it had not sounded.

And there was no more time left.

“All of you,” Andrew spoke, his voice hushing
the throb of voices. He looked over the crowd, not finding the
words he needed to say. “The Fallen’s army is marching, and will be
upon us before morning. His numbers are great, far greater than our
own, I fear. We will have no more time to gather more to fight by
our sides. We are it.”

The crowd bristled with murmurs of
dismay.

After Andrew let his last words sink in, he
spoke again. “If I give myself up into The Fallen’s hands, and if
we disband, your lives will be spared, and you will live.”

The crowd roared with anger, shouts cut
through the assembly. Then as quickly as that outburst exploded, it
suddenly quieted as if the sudden realization of their peril began
to sink in.

Andrew surveyed his army, feeling an
overwhelming sense of love for them, even though he did not know
each of them. Yet he did know. He had felt their strength his
sword. Their conviction gave this sword the magic it held, not
anything he himself was or had done. All he was, was a vessel. A
torch bearer, holding as if were the hearts of all who stood up for
their convictions.

As he stood overlooking his army, he was
struck by the awesomeness of the moment. There was a choice to be
made. A choice that could be their last to make on this earth. He
had never supposed himself a leader of a great army. Still they had
come. They were here standing before him, listening to him as if
his words were worth listening to. If someone had told him what he
would be doing, back when he lived at the hollow, he would have
never believed them. He had never imagined himself brave enough to
speak in front of so many. Now he was standing here. Changed by
chance and circumstance. He felt different, older in a way, and
younger in other ways. But what he felt, he couldn’t have
explained. Only that he felt different, changed by pain and
experience---these were his teachers, and unforgiving ones. They
were the most truthful and did not lie. Seeing all these souls
standing before him, so full of life and truth, so willing to
fight, made his heart ache. He felt torn in two as he looked out
over the great crowd. Hope, and sadness overwhelmed him. He did not
want these voices to die, to be silenced, their lives wasted. His
life was nothing compared to theirs.

“I have told you these things,” Andrew cried,
“so that you may choose for yourselves the path to follow. It is
your choice. You know as well as I that though our numbers are
great, we are too few to go before such a mighty army. But great or
few, your courage is stronger than any number. Your conviction far
greater than any army. If you desire to fight, I will face any
obstacle in order to stand before The Fallen! If we fight tomorrow,
we may all perish, your lives handed over to The Fallen. But if we
perish, we perish together, and not alone, in some dark corner,
frightened by something we cannot see but which is all around
us!”

An explosion of anger, and alarm burst
through the crowd at his words. “We will fight, Andrew! We will
fight!”

“You must understand,” Andrew raised his
hands to silence the people, “that if it is your will, I will
willingly submit myself to The Fallen, and entrust myself into his
power. You must understand that if I do this all your lives will be
spared.”

“What life?” a clear voice called out from
the crowd. “Without freedom, we have no life. You know better than
to say that. We will never be really be alive, as long as we are
under such tyranny.”

A ripple of approval buzzed through the
assembly. Shouts and exclamations swelled through the army.

“What would you have me do?” Andrew shouted.
“My life isn't any more important than yours. My life for 10,000
souls does not seem a bad exchange. I am only the wielder of a
sword that contains in it your strength. Nothing more. It is you
who are strong. It is you who are important. It is you who have
awakened to truth and let it stir your souls. It is you who have
moved into action. It is you who have made the stand. Not me. No.
Every one of you count, not one is insignificant. No one is more
important than the other. All of us are brothers and sisters in
this fight. We all desire the same thing. Freedom! We want it so
badly that the ache of it burns in our chest and draws us into
action. For you valiant few, I would die a hundred deaths. Those of
you who choose to leave will not be thought of as cowardly in the
least degree. Just as you decided to gather on your own, you must
decide on your own if you must stay or leave. Just know that
whatever you choose, I respect it. For me, here, together, summoned
by truth, the battle has already been won on the battlefield of the
mind which is far more dangerous than anything we may face in the
coming morning. We have stood together. And if we stand together
again, it is no different. Our numbers are lacking, but our courage
is strong!”

“For you Andrew, we would gladly die!” A man
cried, his voice loud, and stirring. “Even if we were to leave,
what kind of life would we go back to? One of dissipation and no
direction. There is no place in the world left for people like us,
Andrew. It has cast us out. And we are but slaves, fugitives,
friendless and alone. Here, we are much more. Here, we are united.
Here have purpose and a reason to go on living. If it is our fate
to die, then we will die with dignity and self respect. No. We will
stay and fight for you and the cause that brought us together!”

“Yes, we will stay. We will fight!” voices
resounded through the army. “For it is better to die together, than
to live alone, as outcasts, in a such a world as this.”

“We will fight! We will FIGHT! We will
STAND!” The voices echoed together with one voice, loud, and clear,
their voices rolling through the land like a mighty wave, more
stirring than anything Andrew had ever heard in his life. Their
voices rumbled like thunder, moving something deep and solid within
every soul there. Many of these individual gathered that day had
lived lonely, set apart lives. Alone in their belief of a cause
that so many people had forgotten. Alone in their ideals of freedom
and justice. Alone, and voiceless and afraid to be heard. Yet, with
each cheer, the souls who had been suppressed for so long, now had
found their voice. Words that had long been hidden had finally been
given breath and volume to their conviction. Voices united with the
voices of all those repressed, and words that had been hidden and
afraid rose as one. The sound throbbed and rumbled, powerful,
strong, and unafraid. The army sounded far greater in numbers than
they actually were. Their voices shook the ground, trembled the
very ocean, and rippled over the entire world in a single
moment.

Those who had been busy doing whatever it was
they were doing, stopped short, unsure of what they heard---only
that they heard it, and that the sound rocked the very core of the
earth, and caused the darkness to tremble.

A warm feeling flooded Andrew’s body, like he
had been bathed in the most dazzling array sunlight. Andrew’s hands
went up to his face. His cheeks were wet, and he hadn’t even
noticed that tears had escaped his eyes.

“We may not be 500,000,” Andrew cried. “But
what we are, what we stand for is greater and more powerful than
any other force on earth. We are the voice of Freedom. We will not
let that voice be silenced. If we are to die tomorrow, then let us
die together. Let our voices be heard, let the sound never
die!”

The night air was cold and biting. Odd patches of
moonshine glistened down on the earth, only to be covered with
restless clouds that could not decide whether to congregate or set
out on their own.

It was the new moon. A sliver of moonlight
light shone down on the world, like a half-closed eye. Yet it
looked old. Old, worn, grayish, and tired. With the moon’s phase,
it was as if a door that had been shut for a long time was
beginning to open, a very dark door. Like the jaws of some terrible
creature, the growing darkness was sinking its fangs into the
light, slowly drawing from it all that it could, clutching it by
the throat, slowly watching it die by degrees.

Who could release its hold? This
ever-gripping jaw, this new door creaking and groaning with each
hour, was not easily stopped. The wider this door opened, the
colder the temperature dropped, bringing with it its close
companions: frost, ice, and snow.

An agitated wind beat upon the ocean, heaving
angry waves against the shore in a spray of icy froth. The sea
reflected Andrew’s mood---disturbed, restless, angry, and cold.

Andrew’s army was camped with their back
flank towards the ocean, and all eyes drawn to the north-eastern
road that led far around the edge of the ocean towards the north
where The Fallen dwelt. They supposed that this road was the only
road that The Fallen’s army could come through. If the Fallen’s
army was coming, Andrew’s army would be ready, watching, and
waiting.

The night had been subdued as if it, too, was
pensive and tired of waiting for what might come. Andrew glanced
above him and watched as Flicker soared over the ocean, his wings
outstretched, his eyes flickering like stars through the darkness.
Horses neighed, as the captains Andrew had picked, readied his men
for battle.

Andrew pulled himself onto his horse, and
breathed deeply. Northward, over the ocean, Andrew could make out
the faint outlines of The Fractured Mountains---fractured, Andrew
supposed, because of the dark star that had landed behind them,
fracturing them in half.

“Everyone!” Andrew shouted, moving his horse
to the front of the army. “Let none sleep tonight. All keep a
watchful eye towards the eastern road, for that is where The
Fallen’s army is sure to come from.”

Andrew smiled and lifted his sword. Its light
illuminated his army in a radiant glow that surpassed that of the
pitiful moonshine.

“Tonight,” he cried, “on this sandy shore we
will raise our swords in battle for the ideals that we believe in.
For it is only you brave few that carry the weight of the world on
your shoulders. You few who are blessed with the burden of
retaining the great liberties for which we now fight. Tonight we
fight for the slave, the voiceless, the lost, and those fearing
souls who cannot fight because they dare not. We fight because we
are the last ones left to speak when no one dares utter a
sound---to fight when others cower down, to rise up when others
have turned away. We live in a time when our voices and the things
we speak are outlawed, our voices silenced, and our words buried.
But today let our swords, hearts, thoughts, and voices rise in
unison, against our foe, so that none, not even The Fallen himself
can silence us! No. We will not be silenced. We will be heard!”

Andrew’s men exploded in a thunderous roar.
Drums sounded, all cheered, and cried out in unison, their voices
filled with passion, and power. Gradually their cheers died out,
replaced by the constant pounding of the ocean. Its roar raged on,
like a chisel grinding away at them, carving away the sand and
loose stones, until all that was left was something that felt
brittle, fragile, and easily broken.

Everyone there felt a heavy weight in their
hearts, as they analyzed their life, and its meaning. Was this
night really to be the end? Or was there to be a new beginning? It
was a strange feeling of sadness, of awaking, and foreboding, of a
coming, and of leaving.

Everyone could feel it working on their
nerves. This feeling caused many to suddenly stop whatever they
were doing and stare at everything as if perhaps, it was the last
day of their existence. The earth was filled with a pensive,
strained, and impregnated feeling of desperation, fear, and hope.
The sky, though ridden with clouds, seemed to push back the gray
sheets of vapor, willing the light of the stars to be seen by those
who stood under her for the last time.

Andrew smiled, and gazed up at the sky,
watching the stars. They flickered, and gleamed like he had never
seen them on earth before. Like flowers of the sky, they bloomed in
their full glory before a winter frost would soon touch their
beauty and obscure them forever.

“Listen!” Freddie suddenly cried from behind
him, breaking Andrew out of his reverie. “I hear something!”