Wolfehaven by Foy W Minson

Author:Foy W Minson [Minson, Foy W]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-12-27T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 18

Olen was relieved that Jackie didn’t protest when they brought him into the church without Jerry. He knew the two had been close for the past six years, traveling about the country, preferring each other’s company to anyone else in the village. But Jackie apparently knew when to draw the line at any obligations their friendship might demand. After he had joined Olen and their domineering host in the cool shadows of the church office, he shrugged at Olen’s glance behind him when he entered. He answered a raised eyebrow question of Jerry’s whereabouts with a shrug and a whispered, “Sitting in the sun.”

“I am Morgan, the Prophet of the Lord and his Chosen One,” the tall man behind the desk announced. “Among my brethren, I am addressed as Reverend Morgan. Thou arte Olen and Jackie Johnson. Thy nigger is Jerry McDaniel. And thou arte from Wolfehaven, haven of witches, warlocks, and sorcerers.”

Olen started to speak, to say something to take the smear of accusation off the simple words of identification. But before he could put together anything that wouldn’t simply sound like whining, Morgan stood and turned his back to them to gaze out the window behind his desk. It had the effect of squelching any response.

After a few moments, Morgan went on, “I know the founders of Wolfehaven. I know Jason Wolfe, the child killer. I know Judge Woodall, a harsh and demanding man who knows not mercy. I know the black witch, although not by name.”

“Raven,” Olen volunteered. “She just goes by the one name of Raven.”

Morgan nodded slowly as though savoring the name before replying, “Not a right and proper name for a person, but rather a soul cursed to spend eternity in the service of the Black Lord. Yes, they fled from Petaluma, even as the devil’s horde fled earlier, driven by the righteous might of my wrath. Though they slew many of my holy warriors, and, no doubt thinking even I had fallen to their foul weapons, they could not remain in the place made holy where the Lord bestowed my power, naming me His prophet, the Sword of His justice and Bludgeon of His wrath. Tell me Olen Johnson,” he said as he spun to face the room. “Arte thou a believer? Doest thou name the Lord God as thy master? Jackie Johnson, willt thou accept my words as the Lord’s?” Then with his arm and forefinger extended toward them and seeming to thunder without raising the volume of his words, “Doest thou both live to serve righteousness?”

Jackie stood with his mouth open, unsure of how to respond or even if he should, but Olen didn’t hesitate. “We lived as righteously as we could among the unrighteous of Wolfehaven. We remained there so that I might, on occasion, urge strayed souls to follow the good book, to renounce the behavior they fully knew was not as the Lord wished. But their temptations proved too much. Only we, among them all, saw the inevitability of their eventual downfall.

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