Lords of Freedom 2 - Chapter 6

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Introduction

Lords of Freedom is an exciting trilogy that includes adventure, realistic action, surprising insights, and a touch of romance.

The serialization of Lords of Freedom book one is complete, with all 33 chapters published in the Gene Van Shaar Substack. Here is the link to all the chapters: Lords 1

The serialization of Lords of Freedom 2 (book 2 of the trilogy) is in progress. Lords of Freedom 2 includes many intriguing parallels with Joan of Arc, George Washington, Francis Marion (The Swamp Fox), Henry Knox, and the American Revolutionary War.

Lords of Freedom 2 - Chapter 6 - Beginning the Mission

Beams of colored light shone through the stained glass window in the Hall of Truth, washing over the dais in the center of the room. Thoth and Maat were seated in their throne chairs with Xan, Hon, and Sheba standing before them. Jartan and Sekhmet were seated on the velvet couch with Solomon and Fredrik sitting on plush high-backed chairs.

Thoth cleared his throat, then spoke in a deep, resounding voice: “Xan, Hon, and Sheba, your mission is nigh at hand. After training long and hard these past months, Jartan and Sekhmet feel you are ready to embark on this challenge.

“There are some developments you should be aware of. As you know, the angel Mercedes has been watching over the maiden, Jayn of Farland. Her people, by and large, hold her dear, but she has been betrayed. The kingdom of Vlad has her captive and intends to burn her at the stake as a witch, after convicting her at a mock trial, of course.”

Hon gasped. “Burn her…alive—for being brave and standing for liberty?”

“The society is highly superstitious, and many believe in witchcraft,” Maat explained. “Some of those in power, in both kingdoms, want the war to continue, for plunder and gain, at the expense of innocent lives, though in the end, both want to triumph.”

“Farland is outmatched, but Jayn’s influence buoys the troops and with her help, Farland could easily win the war. Thus, the conspiracy between the kingdoms was hatched,” Thoth said. “Since Jayn is renowned for speaking with angels, witchcraft is a convenient charge to levy.”

Hon nodded somberly and joined hands with Xan. Sheba growled softly, lashing her tail.

Maat continued: “Jayn has a trusted advisor, Johann, who was with her when she was captured. He blames himself and is in despair, though nothing he could have done would have prevented her capture. At the time of the ambush she had thirty loyal guards; all but three of them were killed. Jayn believes all of them perished, along with Johann, and she is wracked with misery and despair as well.”

Thoth said, “You will go first to the medical encampment where Johann and the three guards are recovering. Take some water from the sacred spring to heal them and any others you deem in need. They will accompany you to rescue Jayn. Mentioning the angel Mercedes will sway them to believe and trust you.”

Xan nodded, glancing over at Fredrik who handed him a leather pouch that contained the healing water, a cosmic compass, and various other things.

“How will we travel and manage to find the encampment?” Hon asked.

“You’ll sail on a ship called Guardian that will be waiting at the dock beyond the shimmering tunnel. You’ll sail down a different corridor, onto a lake altogether different from the one that leads to your homeland.

“As you cross the lake, pay special heed to the cosmic compass, and steer the ship in the direction indicated. The current will sway the boat off course, so stay vigilant; if you succumb to the current, you could be swept over a waterfall. Following the true heading will lead to the lakeshore within eyesight of the Farland medical encampment.

“Once Johann and the three guards are healed, you will return to the ship and continue on to Vlad. During that journey, you will pass through a dense fog. All aboard will have to have faith, and once again you must heed the compass,” Thoth explained.

Solomon raised a finger. “There are two lessons to remember here: first, stay true when temptation arises and second, trust in divine guidance when the path forward is unclear.

Thoth nodded approval, then said, “As you journey toward Vlad, you’ll encounter a soldier named Caden who is to be trusted; he will guide you to Jayn and assist in her rescue.”

Maat spoke again: “Xan, you must rely on your staff to weed out any traitors you encounter. Percival and Nigel are not to be trusted, and many others want to see Jayn silenced and will betray you without a qualm. They are strategically placed in both governments and militaries and are quite convincing. The kingdom of Farland, by and large, has no idea there are any traitors in their midst. They love their country and assume all around them are patriots as well.

“The citizens of Vlad are beaten down and demoralized. Prince Nigel reigns with an iron fist. Many of the common people back Jayn—they grow weary of their oppression and see her as a means to gain freedom themselves. Many others though, believe she is a witch and deserves to be burned at the stake. These citizens, mostly wealthy merchants, and government officials, back Prince Nigel wholeheartedly and are mindless in their zeal. They live in fear, true, but they are comfortable, so long as they stay in line.”

“Understood,” Xan said, inclining his head.

*****

Solomon accompanied Xan, Hon, and Sheba out of the Hall of Truth and into the shimmering corridor. When they reached the dock, final goodbyes were said, and Xan boarded the ship, reaching to help Hon aboard. Sheba paced the dock, tail lashing, ears pinned to her great head. She did not care for boat rides on the water, but before anyone had to prompt her, the great cat sprang aboard as well.

Solomon boarded the vessel as well and gave Xan and Hon a quick tour. The ship Guardian was luxurious and much larger than the other ship with rigging and sails, an actual bridge, and even a galley. There were also comfortably furnished cabins for passengers and crew, and below deck, a line of stalls along with a brig.

Sweeping his hand, Solomon said, “You will sail Guardian not only on this mission, but your next as well. There are countless corridors in this docking cavern, but you see only the one you are to take each time. All open onto bodies of water that lead to whatever realm your mission requires, based on the corridor you sail from.

“You will no doubt require horses in this endeavor, and they can be transported in the stable section of the ship. The medical encampment will have mounts for the two of you, along with Johann, the three guards, and any others who join you.”

“This is all…amazing,” Hon said. “We will keep all of your counsel foremost in our minds.”

Solomon smiled. “You are a rare gem indeed.”

“What is this next mission?” Xan asked.

Solomon chuckled. “Ever the curious one, aren’t you Xan? Complete this mission first; then the next will be revealed. Unwavering focus will be required for your success.”

Xan stepped to clasp hands with his mentor. “Of course, you are correct. Goodbye for now, old friend.”

Xan and Hon mounted the bridge and headed out, down the one glowing corridor and around a bend. Gradually they picked up speed, though not enough to make turning each bend a problem. Sheba paced the deck, scrutinizing the passing water as they went.

“Good thinking,” Xan called down, manning the wheel. “Alert us if you see any serpents in the waves.”

When Xan and Sheba first visited the Hall of Truth, a sea serpent had attacked from the water. They’d been sailing a much smaller vessel, and when the serpent leaped at them, they worked as a team to kill it. Another such creature had attacked when Hon returned with them, engaged to Xan before being wed.

“I don’t sense any; I think we’ve passed that test, but just in case I’m watching,” came Sheba’s silent reply.

Before long, the cavern opening came into view and soon they were on the lake and sailing strong. Hon quickly checked the compass to make sure they stayed on course.

The distant shore looked radically different than that of Merker and Cavalon, telling both Hon and Xan that they were indeed far, far from the homeland they’d once known. The skyline was different and the foliage was of a dissimilar type. There were ranges of rolling hills, but overall the terrain was flat, aside from one towering mountain range.

Their homeland had numerous mountain ranges with cities set in large valleys. Of course, there was the flat, endless desert where the portside city Thalick lay, and likely there were sandy deserts here as well.

Glancing back at the compass, Hon whirled. “Xan, we’re heading off course, you need to veer portside.”

Xan snapped to action, finding the current strong underneath the ship. It was a struggle, but he managed at last to get them back on course. From that point on, Hon paid closer heed to the compass, looking away only briefly, now and then. Several times the current sought to drag them away, but correcting early on made it much quicker and easier, Xan found, and praised Hon’s diligent watch.

They saw a cropping of rock at one point, and Xan opted to let the ship drift off course just enough to skirt the hazard. They were nearly around it, but the move led them into what must be the beginning of a treacherous river. It took all Xan had to get them back into calmer waters but in the end, he succeeded.

“I should have steered us around the other way, even though it was a longer veer,” he panted.

Hon nodded, sagging against the bridge rail. “The lesson here is to be ever vigilant against turning the wrong way, even slightly.”

Xan raised a brow. “I concur; evil is not always obvious at first, and at times just going along with it, to a point, seems reasonable.”

“Only it never is—there is no clear stopping point and before you know it, it can be too late,” Hon remarked.

When the boat neared the shore, at last, Xan dropped anchor and lowered the gangplank. Sheba padded down first, testing the ground and sniffing air. Xan ushered Hon ahead of him onto the shore.

A flag flew in the air above a cluster of tents a short distance away. It bore a brown staff with a red serpent coiled around it, set on a blue background, a universal sign of medicine and healing—the Farland medical encampment no doubt. Sheba moved out first, leading the way over a little rise and on toward the tents.

Shouts erupted at the sight of the massive cat, and Xan moved quickly to Sheba’s side. Most of the men were dashing about, seeking weapons to protect themselves and drive the tiger off while a handful of them stood frozen in place, gaping at the regal beast.

“Stand down, all of you,” Xan called.

He and Sheba stopped walking, as did Hon, a few paces behind them. Xan planted his staff in the grass firmly, laying his other hand on Sheba’s back. She roared, sending the nearest men clamoring back.

“I am Xan, Royal Guardian of Freedom and this is Sheba, Regal Guardian.”

He turned, ushering Hon to his side. “This is Honbria, my wife and fellow freedom fighter.”

“What do you want with us? We are but a medical encampment, tending injured soldiers, Farland and Vlad alike,” one man called, taking a tentative step forward.

He was thickset with carroty hair and an angular chin. His manner was wary but not overtly hostile and his hazel eyes were sharp as he assessed them.

“What is your name, sir, and who is in charge here?” Xan asked.

“I am Gareth, and I am in charge.”

The other medics nodded assent.

Xan stepped forward to shake hands. “We are here to aid the maiden Jayn in her quest for freedom. Do you back her?”

Gareth stiffened. “Yes, of course.”

Xan felt the staff warm in his hand. “Is Jayn’s advisor, Johann here, along with her three surviving guards?”

Gareth glanced over his shoulder at one of the tents. “They are, but how do I know you are trustworthy? Jayn was ambushed and captured; you could be here to take out the rest of her team.”

“Were that the case, wouldn’t we have simply unleashed Sheba on the lot of you?” Hon said with a shrug.

That gave Gareth pause; after a beat, with a drawn-out sigh, he turned and strode off. “Follow me; I’ll take you to Johann.”

When they reached the tent Gareth had looked toward, he held up a hand, signaling them to wait. Then he entered and they heard hushed voices from within.

“You’re here to rescue Jayn?” another voice said.

Both turned to see an average-looking man with sandy brown hair and a goatee. His speech was slightly different from Gareth’s, bearing a foreign accent.

“We are,” Xan confirmed. “Who are you?”

“My name is Barak. I serve at the supply encampment, and am the organizer of food and weapons distribution to the Farland troops. I’m returning from the palace, after meeting with Dauphin Percival. I’m a good day out but stopped here to rest and recoup,” he replied.

Xan and Hon exchanged a look.

“Do you support Jayn in ending this conflict and spreading freedom through the land?” Xan asked, tightening his grip on the staff.

Barak looked down at his boots, then over at Sheba. “Indeed I do. How can I help in her rescue?”

The staff went ice cold in Xan’s hand.

“This is good to know. Let us speak with Johann in private; then rejoin us. I think having you along will be beneficial to all parties,” Xan said, choosing his words carefully.

“Johann will speak with you now,” Gareth said, holding the tent flap open. “I will bring Trahern, Maynard, and Quillan—the surviving guards. Johann wants them present.”

“Very good; I need to speak with them as well,” Xan said.

Johann was reclined on a cot with a bandage on his neck. He had jet-black hair and a well-groomed beard with dark, inquisitive eyes. He had a book in his lap which he closed and set aside. It was evident he was quite tall and he looked fit, but his inner anguish was obvious.

“Xan and Honbria?” he said.

“Hello, Johann.” Xan stepped over to shake hands.

Hon inclined her head, and Sheba poked her head into the tent briefly.

Johann’s eyes widened. “You do have a giant tiger with you. I didn’t know what to think of that when Gareth told me.”

Then he dropped his gaze, reaching for the book and fanning the pages with a finger.

“There is nothing you could have done to prevent what transpired. You protected Jayn at the peril of your own life, but her capture was inevitable.”

Johann slammed the book shut and said in a scathing whisper, “How can you know that? You weren’t there, and heaven would never retreat.”

“Heaven hasn’t retreated; oftentimes the middle makes no sense until the end plays out,” Xan said calmly. “I know these things indirectly from the angel Mercedes who yet stands with Jayn, buoying her spirits and protecting her from undue harm.”

The book slipped from Johann’s lap, landing on the ground with a thunk.

“Mercedes…you know the angel?”

"We share the same mission," Xan replied. He hadn’t actually met the angel, but Thoth and Maat knew her well.

“Jayn mentioned Mercedes by name—she is the angel who charged her with fighting for liberty and bringing this war to a close. What do you want with me?”

“We are here to help end this war and aid Jayn in being crowned queen of all the land—Farland and Vlad alike,” Xan said. “You and the three surviving guards are to accompany us.”

Johann's aura shifted to one of renewed hope and determination. “I stand with you then, as will the guards.”

“Jayn thinks all four of you perished with the rest of her guard; she is in anguish and despair to a degree, despite Mercedes’ influence. Seeing you four will boost her spirits to the stars,” Hon smiled.

Just then, a huge black paw peeled the tent flap back, admitting three men. To their credit, they did not falter in their step, although all three pairs of eyes remained focused on the tiger.

“That is Sheba, Regal Guardian,” Xan said as the three fanned out in the tent. “I am Xan, Royal Guardian and this is my wife, Honbria.”

“I am Maynard,” one of them said, a burly man with thick waves of dark hair that hung to his shoulders and chestnut-colored eyes.

He motioned first to the man to his left, and the man to his right: “Quillan and Trahern.”

Quillan had blond hair, a beard, and hazel eyes. His left arm was splinted and rested in a sling. Trahern was slightly taller than the others and was black-skinned with soulful eyes.

Xan nodded at them and said, “I can tell you have a broken arm, Quillan, and I know Johann has a grievous neck wound; what is your injury, Maynard?”

“I took a blindside blow to the back of my head and Gareth diagnosed a concussion. I still get dizzy spells now and then, but I haven’t fainted since yesterday, just after lunch.”

Xan nodded again. “Trahern?”

The black man reached to touch his mid-section. “Two ribs fractured, but they’re mending, thanks to Gareth’s wrapping.”

“Sheba is a magnificent creature,” Maynard remarked, out of the blue.

The tent flap remained open, and he was watching the cat pace back and forth. On cue, Sheba poked her head through the opening and yawned wide with a subdued yowl.

All three guards, along with Johann, either grunted or chuckled.

“We have with us a healing potion that will mend your injuries quickly and enable you to assist us in rescuing Jayn,” Hon said, stepping forward.

“Rescue Jayn?” Quillan exclaimed, fire lighting his eyes.

Xan took the pack from Hon. “Yes. We have a ship waiting on the lakeshore and should reach the kingdom of Vlad by tonight; we require the four of you, twenty bowmen, horses, and all your loyalty and skill.”

“Are you witches?” Trahern asked, looking wary.

“They are not,” Johann said firmly. “The angel Mercedes sent them, and she remains with Jayn as we speak.”

“Mercedes,” the three guards said in unison, instantly swayed.

*****

In less than an hour, Xan and Hon sat astride horses before Johann, the three guards, and twenty ready bowmen, also mounted up. Eleven of them were Farland soldiers and nine were Vlad—those who had sworn loyalty to Jayn the night of the battle. All of the soldiers had drunk a measure of the healing spring water and felt their injuries mend; now they were ready to proceed.

Barak the cook was part of the group as well, in a calculated move. He seemed pleased to have been invited along, and by all counts was as determined as the rest of them to rescue Jayn.

Xan led off from the medical camp, after saluting Gareth, but Sheba soon loped out ahead of the group. Motioning for Hon to continue on with the others, Xan pulled Maynard aside; they slowed their mounts to let the group move beyond them.

“The cook, Barak is a traitor and may be complicit in the ambush and Jayn’s capture. I brought him along to take him out of play. Can you, Quillan, and Trahern escort him to the brig when we reach the ship?”

Maynard nodded, brow furrowed. “Barak…a traitor? I’d never have guessed that. He is in the perfect position though. Yes; I’ll speak with Quillan and Trahern now.”

Maynard moved up alongside the two and the three began speaking in hushed tones, glancing now and then at Barak. The cook rode along, none the wiser, chatting with a few of the soldiers.

When the ship and the lake came into view, all the men marveled at the fine vessel. Sheba was waiting at the foot of the gangplank, sitting patiently with her tail curled around her paws. All dismounted, and Xan lowered another ramp at the rear of the ship. One by one the horses were led to the stables, then all gathered at the gangplank.

Xan and Hon boarded first, followed by Johann. The three guards discreetly ushered Barak aboard next, following him, with the twenty soldiers bringing up the rear.

The moment all were on board, Quillan seized Barak’s arm, wrenching it behind him. Maynard and Trahern stepped up as well, hustling him below deck to the brig. Barak put up a struggle, shouting in outrage, but the trio was not swayed.

Johann stepped over, wondering what was going on, but Hon intervened, telling him to wait—that Xan would explain. Johann nodded assent.

Xan mounted the bridge, followed by Sheba. Hon and Johann followed at his signal.

“I have good reason to believe that the cook Barak was complicit in Jayn’s capture and that he is a traitor. He is now safely out of play. He will not be mistreated or abused. I realize many of you consider him a comrade and friend, but the best conspirators are often the last you’d suspect.”

Murmurs broke out amongst the ranks, but none of the men objected in the end. When Maynard, Trahern, and Quillan returned, Xan set the ship to sail, telling the men they were free to explore the ship but to steer clear of the brig for now.

At first, the sky was clear and the waters calm as they banked away from shore, but presently a mist dropped low in the sky. That wasn’t a problem at first, but then it thickened into a soupy fog, obscuring the sun and darkening the day.

Everyone was on edge, even Sheba, as they now sailed blind. Xan recalled the miniature island, and although he didn’t voice it, the danger of hitting an obstacle like that had him worried. Hon kept a close watch on the compass though, telling him which direction to veer the moment the compass dial moved.

When the current picked up, sloshing white-capped waves against the ship, Johann suggested they drop anchor and wait the fog out. Wise counsel it seemed, and everyone save Hon chorused agreement.

Xan feared the current would lead to the treacherous waterfall, and when Hon joined hands with him he realized she shared that dread. When she squeezed his hand though, he smiled and put an arm around her shoulder. We’re following the compass; we have to have faith that it’s guiding us true, the gesture said.

“We’re right on course,” Xan called out. “Do not fear; the fog will lift soon, and the current will subside.”

Grumbles from the deck answered his claim, but Sheba’s roar silenced the din.

They sailed on and soon indeed the current calmed. Shortly after that, the fog thinned, letting the late afternoon sunshine through. When only a misty curtain remained, the men broke out in cheers and Sheba roared again.

Not that I doubted you or the compass, Xan, Sheba’s silent voice came. But I did not relish a swim, not to mention tumbling over a deadly waterfall. Hon, you have my regards for your compass watch.

Xan chuckled, and Hon met his eye before smiling at Sheba. “You calmed the men quite handily when they doubted.”

Trahern, seated in the crow’s nest with a looking glass shouted: “Land ho!”

Indeed, a new shoreline had appeared on the horizon. All eyes were fixed on the sandy shore and rolling hills ahead…as well as the Vlad kingdom gates and the castle spire.

Copyright 2025 Gene Van Shaar