Judge (37 page)

T
his story would not be in your hands, dear reader, if I hadn’t received invaluable help from a multitude of remarkable people.

First, my wonderful husband, Jerry, and our sons, Larson and Robert, who have endured my daydreaming and years of obsessive writing. Love you guys! Also, Robert and Sharon Barnett, my dear parents, who first encouraged my love for books. Donita K. Paul—dear friend and amazing author. May we always drag each other into marketing mischief. Tamela Hancock Murray, my ever-fun and patient agent, who agreed to present this series to publishers. And to Katharin Fiscaletti, who meticulously hand-copied the map in parchment and ink.

Bethany House editors-extraordinaire David Long, Sarah Long, and David Horton, who—intrepid adventurers all—welcomed B
OOKS
OF
THE
I
NFINITE
into their realm. Thank you, everyone, for bringing Ela’s story to published life. I’m enjoying the whole process and still pinching myself.

Thanks and serious heartfelt applause to:

The Bethany House Marketing Team: Steve Oates, Noelle Buss, and Debra Larsen.

Bethany House Marketing Support Team: Chris Dykstra, Stacey Theesfield, and Brittany Higdon.

Bethany House staff, including Jolene Steffer, Carra Carr, Elisa Tally, Whitney Daberkow, and Donna Carpenter.

The Bethany House Design Team, and to Wes and Steve for their epic cover art!

Baker Publishing Group Sales Team: David Lewis, Scott Hurm, Bill Shady, Nathan Henrion, Max Eerdmans, Rod Jantzen, Rob Teigen, and the Noble Marketing Group.

Above all, dear reader, thank
you
for bringing this series to life in your imagination! Please feel free to visit me at my website:
www.rjlarsonbooks.com
. I’d love to hear from you!

1. In chapter 1, Kien is startled by the Infinite’s voice. What emotions do you see in Kien’s response to his Creator? How would you react in a similar situation?
   
2. In chapter 3, Ela tells Kien to obey the Infinite’s orders. Do you believe Kien takes this warning seriously? Why or why not?
   
3. What aspects of Kien’s personality and his role as a military judge cause difficulties in ToronSea? How does he justify or excuse his actions and judgments? Is Kien truly justified by doing what is right in his own opinion?
   
4. How does the Infinite ultimately reveal His love and concern for Kien despite Kien’s failures? Do you sense your Creator’s love and concern for you as you face difficult situations or spiritual struggles?
   
5. What signs does the Infinite give to Adar-iyr’s citizens to warn them of their impending destruction? Why does He warn them? How would you react if you were a citizen of Adar-iyr?
   
6. What is Kien’s main spiritual obstacle in Adar-iyr? Does the Infinite give Kien guidelines or encouragement to successfully complete his mission?
   
7. Throughout the book, Ela repeatedly faces enemies and situations requiring forgiveness. Do you believe she models the Infinite’s love and mercy as she confronts these situations?
   
8. What spiritual differences between Adar-iyr and Parne determine the differing outcomes in each city? If you were a prophet, which situation would you rather face, and why?
   
9. Do Kien and Ela sacrifice personal goals or passions to fulfill their work? Why? What do your own personal sacrifices reveal about you spiritually?
   
10. Has Kien’s spiritual outlook changed by the time he returns home? Has his relationship with the Infinite changed? What does he now believe about his Creator and his own life?
    
11. What do you believe is the Infinite’s prime motivation in
    Judge
    ? In our own lives?
    

R. J. Larson is the author of numerous devotionals featured in publications such as
Women’s Devotional Bible
and
Seasons of a Woman’s Heart
. She lives in Colorado Springs, Colorado, with her husband and their two sons.
Prophet
and
Judge
mark her debut in the fantasy genre.

P
oison? Yes, it must be. Blisters bubbled in Ela’s mouth. Searing pain scorched its way down her throat. Courtiers and guards closed about them now, some calling for physicians, others kneeling beside the king, whose usually healthy complexion turned waxen. Little Barth cried out and writhed against her. Prill and Tamri supported each other, gasping as if burning alive, and no wonder. Her own stomach seemed on fire.

Ela snatched the branch from the mat, pleading, “Infinite, what must we do?”

An image flashed within her thoughts, sped by a ferocious mental nudge from her Creator.
Hurry!

Battling faintness, Ela grabbed a round of flatbread from Tamri’s dish. The instant she lifted the bread, Ela saw the branch flare, its blue-white fire spreading through her and into the loaf. Frantic, Ela tore the still-glowing bread in two and thrust one half at Akabe. “Eat! Quickly!”

The king obeyed.

Ela dropped the branch and ripped off pieces of bread for Barth, Tamri, Prill, and herself.

In obvious pain, her chaperones snatched the bits of bread and crammed them into their mouths.

While Ela lifted Barth, she swallowed her own bite of bread. It went down her raw throat, quenching the poison’s fire. Ela shoved a piece of bread into Barth’s mouth. He squirmed and fought. “Chew!” Ela ordered. “Barth, swallow the bread—please!”

The little boy wailed. Ela covered his mouth to prevent the bread from falling out. Holding him, she begged, “Eat the bread. Barth! Swallow the bread, and the Infinite will save you!”

She felt his jaw clench. Barth gulped audibly, opened his eyes, and chirped, “I feel better!”

As the onlooking courtiers laughed and exclaimed their relief, Ela hugged Barth and kissed his soft cheek. Infinite, thank You! But she trembled inwardly. Someone had tried to kill the king. With four of his subjects—one a child. Infinite? Who would do such a thing?

No answer.

Ela turned to the king. Thankfully, Akabe’s complexion was no longer ashen. He shook off his fussing attendants. “I’m well. I give you my word. Step back, all of you.” To Ela he said, “Prophet, thank you.”

She rocked Barth. “Thanks to the Infinite, sir. I’m grateful you’re alive—that we’ve all survived.”

Barth snuggled into Ela’s arms, seeming content. Until the king commanded him, “On your feet, young sir. We must return to the palace. Your lord-father ought to see you’re well before rumors reach him that you were . . . ill.”

“He won’t mind,” Barth argued. But he stood. A grim-faced official in sweeping crimson robes nudged the child toward the steps, to the royal cavalcade of horses in the street below. Akabe departed as well, surrounded by his anxious men.

As the crowd around them thinned, Ela grabbed Tamri and Prill’s hands. “You’re not too shaken?”

“Oh, no.” Prill’s mouth pursed testily. “Just another day tending our little prophet!”

“Sorry,” Ela muttered.

Tamri’s grandmotherly face crinkled as she smiled. “Well, we’re alive for now, my girl. Do you suppose it’s safe to finish our food?”

“Yes. I’m certain only that single pitcher was poisoned.”

“The king’s men took it with them,” Prill observed. “No doubt they mean to test it.”

“Yes, no doubt.” Ela reached for her dish. Someone had kicked it, spilling half her food on the mat. She picked up scattered bits of bread and vegetables until a gruff voice stopped her.

“Prophet?”

Ela looked up. Two crimson-badged officials stared down at her, their expressions as unmoving as masks. The gruff-voiced one said, “Will you answer a few questions?”

She nodded and set down her dish. So much for eating.

“Huh.” Akabe studied the dead flies floating in the gold bowl on his council table. “It’s the most effective fly poison
I’ve
ever seen.”

Unamused, his counselors stared at him, then at the bowl again. Lord Faine rested his broad, ring-garnished hands on the table. “How did your enemies know so quickly you’d be at the site today?”

“How indeed?” Akabe sat back in his chair. The celebration and his appearance were planned only this week after he’d signed the land contract. “Is there a spy in my household?”

Faine sighed. “We must redouble our surveillance and your guards. Majesty, this is the second attempt on your life within the past seven months.”

“I’m well aware of that fact, my lord. My knife-wound from last year
and
this morning’s blisters have made the dangers abundantly clear. What are you suggesting?”

Faine hesitated, his delicacy at odds with his blunt face. “You need an heir. We’ve agreed you must marry.”

“But have I agreed?” Akabe studied his council member’s faces. To a man, they were nodding, deathly serious.

“Yes, sir, you must.” Faine harrumphed, adding with an awkward cough, “Duty.”

“Ah.” Duty. Perfect reason to marry. Nothing could be less inspiring to a prospective wife, Akabe was sure. “Do you believe there’s a young lady somewhere in Siphra who is brave enough to live in this marble inconvenience of a palace—with a man who is clearly marked for death by assassins?” While they blinked at his acidity, Akabe continued, “Should we also warn her that she’d
be sentenced to a life of cold food, perpetual gossip, and endless ceremonies? Surrounded—forgive me, my lords—by packs of staring royal courtiers who’d follow her to the privy to discuss business?”

His council members shifted guilty glances here and there. Faine attempted a joke. “Majesty, you make life in the royal court sound so
uncomfortable
.”

“It is.”

Lord Trillcliff broke their awkward silence. Stout and earnest, his eyebrows moved in thick, upstanding silver fringes over his ocher owl-eyes. “Being the king, Majesty, you will have no lack of young ladies willing to share your . . . interesting circumstances.”

Squelching further complaints, Akabe sat back in his carved, gilded chair and stared at the dead flies. Poor creatures. A pity they’d suffered what he’d escaped. With as much grace as he could muster, Akabe conceded defeat. “As you say, then. Have you a list of courageous candidates, my lords?”

Faine sighed as if relieved. “Not yet, sir.”

No? Good! Akabe straightened. “Am I permitted to suggest a possibility?”

Trillcliff said, “Any young lady of some social standing and good reputation may be considered. However, sir, a foreign princess might bring—”

Princess? Akabe stopped Trillcliff with an upraised hand. Here, he must declare his personal battle lines. “No foreign princesses. And no Siphran ones either—if any exist.”

His tone approving, Faine agreed, “Indeed, sir. Foreign brides bring foreign gods, and we’ve enough to deal with, trying to protect ourselves from the Atea lovers. One of those goddess-smitten fools is likely your failed poisoner from this morning.”

Glad to shift the subject toward ardent worshipers of the fertility goddess Atea—and away from his future bride’s pitiable fate—Akabe asked, “Has the man been found who served us the poison?”

Faine snapped a look at Lord Piton, the youngest council
member with the fewest silver hairs. Caught off guard, Piton stammered, “Um, not yet, sir. Your men are questioning everyone at the temple site, including the priests and the prophet.”

“They’re questioning Ela?” Akabe kept his outrage in check. “Do they suspect her?”

Piton moistened his lips. “Er, no, sir. But perhaps she saw some detail about the intended assassin that others have missed. And she could petition the Infinite for the man’s identity.”

Ela. He must speak of her before the opportunity was lost. Akabe pressed his fingertips together. “What I am about to say will not leave this room—does everyone understand?”

“Of course, sir,” Faine said as the others nodded agreement. “We hope you may trust us.”

Watching their faces carefully, Akabe said, “Ela Roeh is now Siphran. She’s highly regarded by our people and used to dealing with extraordinary circumstances. Not least, she’s more dedicated to the Infinite than any lady I’ve ever met. I’d prefer to marry her.”

His council showed surprise, but no opposition. Trillcliff, ever aware of rank, lifted his silver-spiked brows. “The prophet’s place is unique in Siphra. Difficult to dispute, should anyone mention her status. Though she’s not highborn, she’s quite presentable.”

“And,” Piton quipped, “considering her swift actions this morning, sir, no doubt you’d be marrying your antidote to future poisonings.”

Even Trillcliff laughed. But as Akabe enjoyed the joke, it distressed him. Ela deserved better than to be considered a living antidote to future assassination attempts. Would she agree to wed a king?

Tomorrow, he would seek information from someone well-acquainted with Ela.

Then he would visit with his favorite prophet and persuade her to marry him.