rather disliked Silas’s son.
“The voice told him he had to build this boat,” Chisul said cheerfully, “or everyone he cared about would die.”
Bradok suddenly remembered another dwarf who had encountered a godly voice: Argus Deephammer. Then there was the dwarf with the red-painted sign warning of repentance and doom. And the strange red-bearded one who called himself Erus who had given him the mysterious engraved device, warning him to choose sides.
He scratched his head, thinking. So many dwarves seemed to be saying the same thing, that some great disaster was coming and the people of Ironroot had to choose the path of salvation.
“So why are you here?” Chisul asked, breaking into Bradok’s thoughts. “Reorx send you here too?”
“What are you talking about?” Bradok demanded.
Chisul barked a short, derisive laugh. “Ever since Dad started building this thing, they’ve been coming around. Religious nuts who claim they’ve heard voices, like Dad, or seen visions, or been sent here by mysterious strangers that always turn out to be Reorx in disguise.”
Bradok felt the hairs on his neck stand up. He hadn’t given much thought to Erus’s resemblance to Reorx, but since Chisul brought it up, Erus did uncannily evoke the god of the dwarves.
“So what happens when you finish it, uh, her … the boat? What are you supposed to do then?” Bradok asked, turning to Silas.
Silas smiled and shrugged sheepishly. “Reorx didn’t say.” He put his hand on one of the naked ribs and stroked it reverently. “My job is to finish her. What happens after that is out of my hands.”
Bradok opened his mouth to ask another question, but a sudden disturbance erupted outside. He could hear raised voices and the sounds of a scuffle. With unexpected suddenness, the front door to the shop broke inward, smashed with some heavy object. A moment later five armed members of the city guard were standing in Silas’s workshop.
“What is the meaning of this?” Bradok demanded.
The leader of the guards recognized him after a moment, a surprised look passing over his countenance.
“I’m sorry, Councilman, but I have my orders.” He turned to Silas. “Silas Weatherstone, I’m directed by the city council to place you under arrest. Please come with me.”
Bradok’s mind raced. How could Mayor Arbuckle have heard about Silas so quickly?
“Sapphire,” he whispered.
She must have gone to Arbuckle when Bradok didn’t return home and warned him that her son might expose his plans. Arbuckle hadn’t taken any chances; he must have had Bradok followed and ordered the arrest of Silas.
“Of course I will come with you, Guardsman,” Silas said, putting a restraining hand on Chisul. He took off his apron and handed it to his son then turned to the lone human. “If anyone comes to help with the boat while I’m gone, Perin, please let them in and continue with the work,” he said.
Perin nodded forlornly but said nothing.
Silas bade Chisul good-bye. The guardsmen had formed up around Silas, as if they expected him to attempt to make a run for it. But Silas walked easily behind the guard captain, with his head held high, trying neither to outpace him nor fall behind.
Bradok followed to the door and watched as the soldiers marched out of sight. He wanted to do something to help, but if Arbuckle were behind Silas’s arrest, there wasn’t much he could do at the moment. He put his hand in his pocket and felt the etched metal of Erus’s strange device. Silas hadn’t been any help in determining what it was. On impulse, Bradok pulled it out of his pocket. The tiny words that appeared from the intricate etching were still plainly visible in the soft glow given off by the purple gem.
A person’s destination depends more on his choices than his direction
.
Bradok looked off, up the passage where the soldiers had taken Silas. The whole council might be against him, but he resolved to follow after Silas and speak on the
“The voice told him he had to build this boat,” Chisul said cheerfully, “or everyone he cared about would die.”
Bradok suddenly remembered another dwarf who had encountered a godly voice: Argus Deephammer. Then there was the dwarf with the red-painted sign warning of repentance and doom. And the strange red-bearded one who called himself Erus who had given him the mysterious engraved device, warning him to choose sides.
He scratched his head, thinking. So many dwarves seemed to be saying the same thing, that some great disaster was coming and the people of Ironroot had to choose the path of salvation.
“So why are you here?” Chisul asked, breaking into Bradok’s thoughts. “Reorx send you here too?”
“What are you talking about?” Bradok demanded.
Chisul barked a short, derisive laugh. “Ever since Dad started building this thing, they’ve been coming around. Religious nuts who claim they’ve heard voices, like Dad, or seen visions, or been sent here by mysterious strangers that always turn out to be Reorx in disguise.”
Bradok felt the hairs on his neck stand up. He hadn’t given much thought to Erus’s resemblance to Reorx, but since Chisul brought it up, Erus did uncannily evoke the god of the dwarves.
“So what happens when you finish it, uh, her … the boat? What are you supposed to do then?” Bradok asked, turning to Silas.
Silas smiled and shrugged sheepishly. “Reorx didn’t say.” He put his hand on one of the naked ribs and stroked it reverently. “My job is to finish her. What happens after that is out of my hands.”
Bradok opened his mouth to ask another question, but a sudden disturbance erupted outside. He could hear raised voices and the sounds of a scuffle. With unexpected suddenness, the front door to the shop broke inward, smashed with some heavy object. A moment later five armed members of the city guard were standing in Silas’s workshop.
“What is the meaning of this?” Bradok demanded.
The leader of the guards recognized him after a moment, a surprised look passing over his countenance.
“I’m sorry, Councilman, but I have my orders.” He turned to Silas. “Silas Weatherstone, I’m directed by the city council to place you under arrest. Please come with me.”
Bradok’s mind raced. How could Mayor Arbuckle have heard about Silas so quickly?
“Sapphire,” he whispered.
She must have gone to Arbuckle when Bradok didn’t return home and warned him that her son might expose his plans. Arbuckle hadn’t taken any chances; he must have had Bradok followed and ordered the arrest of Silas.
“Of course I will come with you, Guardsman,” Silas said, putting a restraining hand on Chisul. He took off his apron and handed it to his son then turned to the lone human. “If anyone comes to help with the boat while I’m gone, Perin, please let them in and continue with the work,” he said.
Perin nodded forlornly but said nothing.
Silas bade Chisul good-bye. The guardsmen had formed up around Silas, as if they expected him to attempt to make a run for it. But Silas walked easily behind the guard captain, with his head held high, trying neither to outpace him nor fall behind.
Bradok followed to the door and watched as the soldiers marched out of sight. He wanted to do something to help, but if Arbuckle were behind Silas’s arrest, there wasn’t much he could do at the moment. He put his hand in his pocket and felt the etched metal of Erus’s strange device. Silas hadn’t been any help in determining what it was. On impulse, Bradok pulled it out of his pocket. The tiny words that appeared from the intricate etching were still plainly visible in the soft glow given off by the purple gem.
A person’s destination depends more on his choices than his direction
.
Bradok looked off, up the passage where the soldiers had taken Silas. The whole council might be against him, but he resolved to follow after Silas and speak on the
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