In Escape, a previous book of the Navigiary rumination, I endeavored to introduce you to the concept of God as a friend, but not just a friend. Perhaps, he could be seen as more of a very generous benefactor, a person that bears no grudge toward being helpful in a good cause, yet also happy to put forth some of his limitless resources toward the personal desires of his children, which include you fortunate readers and myself. Some might be offended that this takes away a bit of the manufactured mystique of the Supreme Being, that what has been so carefully contrived as the incomprehensibility of Deity is actually very understandable. It makes the vaunted profession of mediating between mere man and an unknowable God quite unnecessary and the practitioners of such beliefs seem terribly self-serving. Those sorts of people will need to work out the reality that God loves us a bit more personally than expected and wants to be an active, approachable Father in the lives of all his children.
For me, this begs a question and a perspective: Is God's desire to help us along our journey his only motivation? Is he simply some sort of kindly serving man that jumps at our beck and call? In a word, no. He has a purpose much larger and grander than that, but one that certainly still involves us, both individually and collectively as his family. That plan encompasses nothing less than the deification of those who of us who pursue it. God is not only a friendly benefactor, willing to support us through thick and thin, but more of a visionary father, seeing our potential and offering us a path toward our great opportunity: the chance to become like him.
Of course, if a person doesn't know about God's plan, which is actually drawn out quite nicely on that marker placed at the junction of the channel beach and the path to Waykeep and that has been referred to as the Mariner's Log, the actions of God can seem quite incomprehensible. Why can he be so generous at one turn and so demanding at the next? I assure you that, in following the course laid down by the Christ and his Mariner, God and his actions become quite sensible to anyone willing to put forth the effort and work toward their ultimate goal.
Take Enis for instance.
I seem to recall warning in an earlier story that we would be seeing Enis and his fellows again and, with the passing of twenty years, the time has finally come. The young leader of the community of Waykeep is now not so young and he is far less unsure of himself in his appointed role, but that doesn't mean that life has become all that easy for him.
The name "Waykeep" is descriptive not just of a place and a people, but of a purpose. Just above the village of that name is a narrow pass, the only practical "Way" through the entire length of the Barrier Mountains which stretch from the bitterly cold waters of an unnamed northerly sea to the unnamed vastness of a seemingly impenetrable desert to the south. What I am saying is that this pass above Waykeep is really the only land passage between the sheltered and blessed island where the Mariner brought the Alaed and the vast and unpleasant lands outside. In a larger sense, Waykeep "keeps the way" from Firsthome and its surroundings against the larger and inhospitable world. The job of "keeping the way", which falls to Enis and his compatriots, is not an easy one to fulfill.
Much longer before in this story than just two decades ago, the Mariner and his servants aboard the Salvation brought together the most faithful of the Christ's followers, established the community of Waykeep, and put these followers under a covenant to "keep the way" of the pass against all comers from the lands outside. He did this because of a promise he had made to Alaedeus and Cassandra, the first father and mother of the Alaed, that God would protect them and their children from the evils of the people outside. As part of that covenant, the Mariner promised that the pass would be held and the lands of the Alaed would be protected from invasion insofar as the people of Waykeep remained faithful to God and their covenant promise. Up to this point, the covenant has been kept and no invasion through the pass has succeeded. Of course, the Mariner's covenant did not promise that the lives of the people of Waykeep would be easy or lengthy, a fact which Enis would be the first to admit.
You will soon learn that one of the most prominent men among that Waykeep founding was a son of Alaedeus and Cassandra, a man called Kiyami. It was this man who kept a record that became the dusty book that Mullicynda has kept all these years and read to Daavor and her son Weslyn on many evenings.
The pass itself is a curious thing, winding snake-like through high alpine ravines between two rugged peaks. The cold air falling from the twin summits collide with the slightly warmer air rising from the serpentine crevices just below, plunging much of the pass itself into a perpetually dense fog. The two ends of the pass rise out of this fog, looking none too far apart from each other and, if one were able to ride some magical horse over the seeming plain of cloud, it would seem an easy jaunt of just a few minutes to the far side. The swirling mists actually hide treacherous miles of winding sightlessness between the two exposed ends. The unwitting invader that sees the pass as the last small distance between the parched outside lands to the east and the lush and fruitful Alaed lands to the west is quite disappointed that the hardest journey still lies before him and everyone who has attempted to traverse the seemingly small distance between the eastern end of the pass and the western one has met with a pretty gruesome death.
So it is, on this particular day, that Enis stands as he commonly has for the last twenty years, on the western end of the pass, looking across at the latest in a succession of invading leaders that stands at the eastern end of the pass.
"Nevertheless, you will not come to this ground." Enis was simply restating his position that he had been trying to convey from the conversation he and the invading leader had started a while ago. He didn't need to raise his voice much at all as the acoustics in that valley are quite good and, as I have said before, there is only a little distance between them. From some preliminary efforts by the invaders, however, it seems that this distance is far enough that missiles fired from the east end cannot reach the leader of Waykeep.
The invading leader was still strutting around confidently. "You think a little fog scares us? Do you keep some sort of dragon down in that murk?" His force had already begun to move into the swirling mists of the pass and the leader was likely extending this brave confrontation of words with Enis in an effort to distract him from taking notice of that fact.
The leader of Waykeep did notice and almost found the pathetic attempt to trick him humorous. He did not laugh however, for he knew that God was the foundation of the centuries of success in holding the pass and he had schooled himself over the years to always remember who it was that made the survival of his community and himself possible. One didn't make light of miracles, no matter how common they tend to be. "If you call back your army from this pass and return down the mountains, God will spare you and you may yet live long lives."
"Easy words!" the invader snapped. "You guard a fertile land the likes of which my people have never known!" He pointed to the eastern peak at his back. "We have reports of the green of your lands from yonder mountain and we will have it!"
Enis sighed. "If you will turn back in obedience to God, he will bless you with sufficient harvests, as far as your deeds warrant them." This was actually the standing offer that the Mariner instructed every leader of the Waykeep to give those who challenged the pass. Enis himself had no evidence that this promise was true, but one learns to trust God and his Mariner after so many years of their care. "This is a promise from God."
"I spit on a god that would keep good people from a goodly land!" The opposing leader punctuated his point by actually spitting on the ground. As you can imagine, these sorts of words and actions are not the ones which kindly dispose Deity towards a people. "Step aside, let us pass in peace, and perhaps we shall share our bounty with you! Otherwise..." The man shook his sword to underlie his threat.
The leader of Waykeep shook his own head as a reply. "This is a chosen land of God and he decrees that it is given to the children of Alaedeus and Cassandra, who were devoted to Him. The ease at which you offend the God of this land mirrors the ease at which God will prevent you from entering a land that is promised to another. Turn from your purpose here and God will give you your lives."
The man at the eastern end of the valley gave a roar. "I will hear of your god no more!" He smiled and cupped his hands to his mouth. "Attack!"
With a shrug of resignation, Enis spoke quietly. "So be it." He gripped his spear and moved down into the fog.
The valley, if you can call it such, was a curious place, even beyond what I have already described. What is almost unnatural about the place is the utter darkness and closeness of it, the air so dense and still that it feels like a suffocating blanket. Only generations of experience with defending this place have prepared the people of Waykeep to endure the inherent eeriness of it. Every instinct of standing beside your comrades and drawing strength from such fellowship is drained away in this place.
The air itself seems much thicker in the valley, so thick that sound itself is very deceiving to the ear, ricocheting and distorting as much as to be completely useless in providing any sense of direction. This fact, coupled with the basic inability to see, gives anyone attempting the pass a deep sense of other-worldly-ness and loneliness. Once in the embrace of the unnatural mists and air, one could neither clearly see nor hear a companion unless they were inches from eye and ear. In all the banter between Enis and the leader, anyone already in the valley effectively missed the entire exchange in the general clatter of the invaders' blind and stumbling movement. This is a fact that Enis knew too well, but that the invading general was totally unaware, realizing too late that words meant to bolster the confidence of his troops had never clearly reached their ears. The bold army of compatriots that had entered the mountain valley had already begun to feel far less certain of themselves and succumb to the feelings of being essentially abandoned by those who trudged along just a meter ahead or behind them.
This would not be the only sense of abandonment that was felt this particular day.
For the people of Waykeep, there was no magic in their work in the pass, only a deep training and understanding of its conditions. Enis moved along a unseen route that he had learned as a boy, not needing his eyes. He came to a halt an inch or so from his first lieutenant. "They are coming on," he said quietly. "Pass the word." At this, the face that floated right before Enis' eyes nodded and withdrew from sight to do as instructed, passing the message down the line of defenders that wound through the valley. It took a short time, but then all were ready, as their long years of training had taught them their duties.
Enis was never fully comfortable in the fog, as though anyone could be. He gripped his peculiar spear and drove the butt of it into the rocks on the far side of the path that his training and the rock's resistance told him was there. Anyone moving along the path would be stumbling over the end of the curved spear, as if it were some root obstructed the way, thus alerting the weapon holder to the presence of an invader. All comers used the one obvious path, for the uninitiated would naturally feel along the stone face that offered some sense of a path, not knowing that in the yawning nothingness on the other side a long line of speared defenders laid in wait for the signaled moment of the strike. It was always a nerve-wracking vigil for the defenders as they waited for the column of invaders to completely fill the winding trail on the cliff-side and spring the trap.
It was common for the invaders to sheath or even drop their weapons in favor of clutching the man ahead of them and the cliff face so as to keep to the trail. After moving for so long without a whisper of an enemy, learning to step high over what seemed like unseen vines or low branches across their way, and finding the way otherwise unimpeded, it was very hard for the weary and spooked soldiers to remain as vigilant as their shouted orders, bouncing crazily off the cliff-face and around the strange air, told them to be. That their enemy was only a few feet to their side the entire march, feeling the invader's passage through their curious spears, and awaiting the silent signal to strike, the toiling army was completely unaware. To the invaders, it could have been that Enis, the only defender they had ever really seen, was an army of one and merely hoped to scare them off with a story of an army hiding in the mist.
My difficulty at this point is to help you readers to see what will actually take place in the pass and to come to terms with it as a work that God himself planned out for the people of Waykeep as a divine occupation. To my eyes, as I strain alongside you to see anything in the mirk of this valley, this is like no sort of battle to which any of us are accustomed and requires a bit of explanation.
The culture that you likely come from has certain rather glamorous notions about primitive war, mostly dealing with the hand-to-hand tussle of muscled combatants, pitting brains and brawn in gladiatorial style such that the superior and most honorable warrior always seems to ultimately win. More silly yet, our culture teaches us that our side always wins because our side is always right and that God is somehow obligated to always lean toward our side. I submit that much of this is foolishness because it sets an awful trap wherein all war is declared a righteous thing, wherein past victories insure all future victories, and lastly, wherein God is always with you because he seemed to be in the past. This trap is sprung when a nation or a people bombastically start a war without sufficient provocation, where that people put their trust in their own superiority and strength, and finally as they anticipate the assistance of a God that refuses to intercede for a nation that has abandoned his doctrine. Our traditions of "holy" war will one day see many confused combatants slaughtered on a senseless battlefield while overconfident generals sentence their people to the bitter medicine of defeat and enslavement, all the while shaking their fists in anger at a God they have abandoned. If you take little away from this story in the way of morals, I hope that you at least see the tragic folly of hoping for the help of a God that you don't choose to consult, much less obey.
Again, the work done by the people of Waykeep in the pass has very little resemblance to what we would call war. A much more representative experience can be found in the modern slaughter house, where animals are moved down a chute of sorts to a "kill" room, wherein they are perfunctorily "dispatched" and efficiently moved out of the way of the next animal in line. Enis and his compatriots are much more like butchers than warriors, efficiently slaughtering the invaders and clearing the trail to receive more. If only this on-coming "army" had any inkling that, to their enemy, they were little more than hogs queuing up calmly for their execution, they might have just as well stayed home. I believe that was the idea that Enis tried to convey in his talk with the enemy leader...
The "trick" to all of this is the "spears" that are used, for lack of a better explanation. I have called them peculiar and curious, but I have neglected to suggest that they are more accurately an effective slaughtering apparatus. Formed into a J shape, the long-legged butt of the thing lays across the trail as already described. The shorter leg, which curves up over a defender's shoulder as he waits, is tipped with a heavy and very wide bowl of sorts, its interior cross-crossed with blades. On the signal of the captain, Enis on this day, the defenders pull the head forward and down, taking an unseen invader in the head, both bludgeoning and slashing it terribly in the bowl of blades. The action continues to move in a nearly full circle, sweeping the now dead invader down and back, passed and to the side the operator of the "spear", and into the yawning crevice behind them. All of this happens neatly, quickly, and relatively quietly just like any humane slaughter would do. The instrument is then allowed to swing back into place, butt against the far wall, ready for the next victim. Though there is no shout of victory, menacing shaking of weapons to some hopefully intimidated foe, or weird sense of pride in a job well done, the ultimate effect is the basically the same: the covenantal elimination of a potential invader, much as a ritual sacrifice.
I apologize if this doesn't answer some need for glorious, roaring warfare and armored heroes with shining swords riding home to showers of flower-petals or ticker-tape. After this day of slaughter is over, Enis and his fellows will go home to the typical bowl of stew and a rather sore back for their day's labor.
This is how things typically go in the pass. However, on this occasion and in a few moments, it will become obvious that something very different will happen from the other days of keeping the covenant of Waykeep.
Enis had assumed his accustomed place in the valley, toward the western end, but far enough in toward the midpoint that he would still have plenty of work to do. It was normal that he would see or hear nothing of his fellow defenders during the engagement, but something hove into his vision on this particular occasion. He was greeted with the customary hand on his shoulder, the signal of a fellow defender coming to "visit", and so relaxed slightly from his posture. "Who is that?" he asked quietly in the normal response and the face of his old friend appeared just beyond his nose. "Kevyn."
"Hello, Enis." The face was bland, more bland than normal for this usually nervous fellow.
Enis must have presented a confused look coming from the fog. "Why are you not at your post?" Kevyn was the main leader of the second of five groups strung along the further east end of the valley. The fact that he was here indicated that something must be very wrong among his group, though such problems would customarily be communicated up the line. "Is there trouble?" the leader hissed.
The face swirling in the darkness remained uncharacteristically bland. "Have you ever wondered about why we do this?"
The leader of Waykeep shook his head. "What?" Everything communicated in the valley was always perfunctory, quiet, and focused on the matter at hand. Such philosophical questions asked in this setting were as expected as if being tossed a brick while one brushed his teeth. Enis shook his head again. "Can't we talk about this later, back in the village?"
Kevyn continued as if Enis had not spoken. "What if our forefathers had simply made up the whole idea of the covenant? What if the whole reason for defending the pass has disappeared and we are just wasting our lives here, dying for an old cause that doesn't make sense anymore?"
Enis gave a exasperated exhaling of breath. "We can talk about this later! Get back to your place and get to work!"
"We all know the stories of Firsthome."
The Waykeep leader was getting disgruntled with this continuing interruption to today's purpose. "What?" He almost raised a hand from his spear and batted at the eyes before him as if Kevyn was some obnoxious bug. "You aren't making any sense. Get back in your place."
Kevyn's face looked to be bobbing about. "They are decadent. They keep men as slaves and know nothing of the Mariner. There is nothing there worth defending anymore, if there ever was anything."
Enis' ears began to buzz and he shook his head to clear them. "I don't care. We can talk about this later."
"I won't be defending the pass today, Enis. Today or any other day." An almost serene smile flitted beneath the eyes floating before the leader. "I am going home. I will no longer offer my life up for a lie."
Enis was still confused but there was also a growing anger. "What of the covenant, Kevyn? We took it together as boys! What of your promise?"
"Just words, Enis. Meaningless words to placate our parents."
In spite of the infuriatingly indifference he could see in his lieutenant, Enis' face grew hard. "I do this thing for the sake of the covenant, not for those at Firsthome. God calls and I answer. I need no other reason."
"It is all so simple for you." Kevyn worked to make his words sting. "Seeing your friends die to protect this pass and this tradition. It must be easy for you to face the wife and children of the men that die each time we come to this place and do this work. You must tell them of the honor of their sacrifice and the glorious reward that a noble death brings." The face pulled a little closer. "I am weary of facing a man's family and telling them that their husband and father has died! Aren't you?"
Enis digested this for a moment, slowing working his way from his role as captain of the pass back to the mindset of the leader of the community of Waykeep. He chose to answer the question with another question "You will not keep your covenant?"
The other man smiled. "I will not give up my life or any other for a foolish boyhood promise."
"A promise to God means nothing to you?"
There was an interesting look of relief in Kevyn's face, as if admitting something he had been afraid to say for years. "I don't think I even believe in God."
"Then," Enis said flatly, "you had better leave this valley right now so you won't be in the way."
The bobbing eyes and mouth turned sheepish. "It isn't just me. Others feel as I do. Many others."
There had been meetings that Enis had not been invited to, he knew, but he didn't know that they were gatherings of those intent on abandoning the covenant to defend the pass. "How many?"
"It is hard to say." The face was smiling fully now, looking strangely triumphant. "They have appointed me as their leader."
The cold facts were starting to enter the mind of Enis. "You planned this, to leave us at this point, hopefully to die. You are hoping to bargain with this lot..."
Kevyn nodded. "We will take Waykeep and allow this army to pass through and spare our lives. They have promised to share with us. Our numbers are dwindling anyway and we desire to live rather than die in this dark place."
"Do you think God will prosper you after you have rejected him?" Enis saw that it was pointless now to appeal to the faithfulness that they had seemingly abandoned. He sighed. "Waykeep is a community of God's followers. If you will not keep the covenant, you will not have his favor, upon which we depend. If you abandon the covenant, you must abandon Waykeep."
"And what if we don't?"
It was Enis' turn to have a bland face. "If you will not leave, you will die. You will die as surely as anyone who tries to breach the western end of the pass who does not make and keep the covenant."
I suppose Kevyn had expected more of an appeal and an quick offer of conciliation, given the chance of disaster in the pass if the number of defenders were significantly diminished. But instead of seeing fear and the chance of an advantageous bargain in the leader's face, all there was were stern and slightly sad eyes. Enis took the other man's shoulders in his hands. "Flee out of the pass before the defense begins. For this moment, you are as a stray traveler to Waykeep and we have fed and clothed you, as we would any wanderer from the western side. Since you do not take the covenant, you must be on your way and you must move on, just as the covenant demands. If you do not take up the cause of Waykeep, you cannot abide here."
The other man was stunned. His careful planning and trust in Enis' kindly nature were supposed to win the day and the concessions that the others who followed him had desired. There was no discussion here, no compromise in the face of the leader of Waykeep. "Don't you want to think about it?" Kevyn asked incredulously. This was all supposed to be a ploy after all, to get a lightening of the burdens of the covenant. Perhaps another tact would help his cause. "Would you force children out of the village?"
Enis' eyes boggled. "You convinced children to abandon the covenant?" The leader's head sagged and Kevyn's hope soared that something had touched the man's heart. He was wrong. "God will exact a price for your own betrayal, but what will be his wrath for teaching the young to walk away from his promise?" The man shook his head in sadness. "I fear for you, Kevyn. If I were you, I would get as far from Waykeep as I could and pray that God forgets that you exist."
"But..."
The whole countenance of Enis was suddenly changed. He looked just as he had moments before as he faced the invading general across the gulf of mist. "Turn back and return to the land of your ancestors." His voice was just as full as it could be. "You will meet only your death in this place. The way is closed to you and it is the hand of God that bars the way." Enis' voice was as cold and final as ever it was to the many armies that had entered the east end of the pass and never steeped upon the west end. The leader gripped his spear tighter and his focus left the face of his former friend. "You are Dougi to the people of Waykeep: one who has turned aside. Leave this place and never return."
Kevyn, long accustomed to living under God's protection in the pass, suddenly felt a shiver through his back. The dense fog that had always felt like a protection in the past, now seemed to snatch his breath away and the fear of the unknown that every invader had to face entered his heart. He looked with pleading to his old friend and leader, perhaps wishing to take back what he had said, but Enis was cold and impassive, eyes closed and concentrating on the feel of the spear in his hand. Dougi/Kevyn knew that he must be careful in stepping over the shaft of that spear now, for reflex would spin it about and run him through, as all of Waykeep were trained to do when the time for slaughter was signaled.
I think everyone has a moment when they know that they have burned a figurative bridge behind them and there is no way back to a previous place and standing. I don't mean to say that God is not understanding of mistakes or even misguided betrayals, as we, his children, are apt to be rash and foolish. I am certain that God would stay his full wrath toward even Kevyn, but the opportunity to be among the chosen of Waykeep and to feel the power of God in such a visceral way was a singular opportunity and he had chosen to reject it. Much as Moses, great as he was in God's eyes, sinned and could never step into the promised land, Dougi and those who followed him could never return to Waykeep and would have to work out their repentance with God, if he desired it, elsewhere and in much different circumstances.
Although God is quite willing to help us along in a good cause, if we choose to cross him, we will find ourselves in a place and position as eerie and lonely as the fog-filled valley of the pass. If you find yourself in such a circumstance, I would absolutely take Enis' advice and flee back the way you came and do your best to repair the rift you have placed between yourself and God. Even if it requires living a life in a brown and unfruitful place, we are mercifully given time to remember that our heavenly Father lends us everything, even the air we breathe, and we must reconcile ourselves to that fact, even as we look down upon a potentially green and lush, even promised land, but now promised not to us, but to someone else.