"Aslan shook his golden mane and sounded out one long, loud Note..." |
The Lord Steward glared at the crouched, hooded figure at
his feet. "Stand up! Are you inciting a revolution, stranger?"
The figure obediently stood. "It is not a
revolution, your Lordship, it is revival."
The hooded stranger tipped her head back slightly, but
did not uncover. The Lord Steward heard her gasp.
"You are not Sir Taurin, nor are you like him enough
to be his son!"
He answered, "Nay; I am Martan, son of Melonni, son
of Taurin, the first Lord Steward of Nast." He looked sharply down at the
stranger, "I am ill-used to being so free toward an accused rioter. Who
are you?"
The stranger threw back her hood. Her dark hair draped
loosely over her shoulders, and her dark-blue eyes blazed. With a loud voice
she cried out,
"I am Lady Melanie, heir of Lord Fausberg and
rightful Regent of Nast! Now, Steward, I demand a full account of your dealings
with my land!"
[Excerpt from Chapter 6] At this startling announcement, the nobles and advisors of
Martan's court leapt to their feet. The captain of the guard blanched with fear
at the realization that he called the true heir of Nast (and the person who
legally held his life in her hands) a heretic.
Martan reeled in shock. So this was Lady Melanie! She was
the one Grandfather Taurin wanted his son and grandson to always remember! She
was the young girl in the old legends of Nast who supposedly called down
terrible judgments on the old merchant clans that once plagued the city. She
was also the one Taurin waited forty long years for, because he loved her and
none else.
When Lord Steward Taurin began to grow very old, still
waiting for her return, it took every one of his advisors and nobles to
convince him that if he did not marry, his line would end, and the Lordship
would pass to another. Taurin was heartbroken at Melanie's absence, but at long
last he came to terms with the low probability of seeing Melanie in his
lifetime.
He sent searchers out forthwith, scouring the land for one
as near resembling Melanie as they could find. A girl named Pollah, with
sparkling blue eyes and brown curls, arrived at the castle, and she became
Taurin's wife. Their marriage was a happy one, and produced Taurin's heir, whom
he named Melonni in memory of the woman now standing in his grandson Martan's
court.
Lord Steward Martan immediately leapt from his throne and
knelt before his lady. A simple wave of his hand, and all the nobles in the
room followed his example. Melanie blushed modestly at the respect shown her.
"Rise and report," she said, fighting to recover
the composure more befitting her as the one in charge.
Martan stood instantly and gave the history of Nast since
Melanie's strange disappearance.
[…]
"My father was seventy-two when he suddenly collapsed
on a hunting expedition in Beren Wood. He died soon afterwards, and I became
Lord Steward of Nast," Martan finished. "Nast remains in debt as she
ever was, and not much else is worth reporting, Your Ladyship."
He took her hand with a suddenness that surprised her.
"There is something I would like to know, though," he said. "You
have led the people of Nast in a revival," he looked her straight in the
eye, "now lead their lord."
At this invitation, Melanie willingly told Lord Steward
Martan the message of the True Naslan.
>>>>>>>
[Excerpt from Chapter 7] The guards at the door to Martan's court started and
trembled in fear at the sight of the enormous Lion, but when they saw the smile
on Melanie's face, they relaxed and opened the door for them.
Martan and his court were no less astounded than the guards
were when Melanie and Aslan entered, but Martan recognized the Lion and
immediately knelt before him.
"Lord Aslan," he said, "I am your servant;
what would you have me do?"
Aslan bent down and licked the top of Martan's head in a
Lion's kiss.
"It is good that you call me Lord in faith, not having
seen any sign, my son," Aslan said. "Rise now and assemble the people
in the Square. Tonight, all shall witness my power."
Stunned, Martan immediately called a public gathering. There
was some confusion as the night-market had just begun, and soon the market was
too full for selling or buying, and people wondered what on earth the Lord
Steward meant by calling a gathering so late at night. Martan silenced them all
with a wave of his hand.
"People of Nast!" he cried, "This lady now
standing next to me was among you yesterday. She has led you all in exposing
the grave error we have made concerning the Great Lion, whose name is Aslan.
"I hereby decree that the worship of the Naslan shall
cease, and there shall be no more models of Aslan made, but we shall worship
him for what he is: himself! The Temple shall hereafter be used as a
meeting-place to learn of Aslan, the True Lion, not only in the evenings, but
also at any time during the day!
"Finally, my people," he continued, silencing the
cheers that erupted at the last statement, "it is with great pleasure that
I present to you the true leader of Nast. I, as you know, am only the steward
of Nast. People of Nast, we have waited one hundred years for this return, and
now bear ye witness! I present the Lady Melanie!"
Melanie stepped up to the balustrade where everyone could
see her. The whole crowd cheered, and Melanie distinctly heard a familiar voice
cry,
"Lion alive! It's Mella! Daen't she look fine now,
Brion?"
Melanie smiled at the people and waved her hand.
"People of Nast!" she cried, "You recall how
I told you of Aslan, and beseeched you to follow his ways and his example. Now,
behold, Aslan himself has come among us, and he desires to redeem the
oppressed, to free those in bondage, and to heal the sick!"
Aslan moved forward and the whole assembly cried out at the
sight of him, some in joy and some in fear.
"Bear ye witness of his power!" Melanie said.
Aslan shook his golden mane and sounded out one long, loud
Note.
To those who believed and were faithful, that Note seemed to
seep with a delicious warmth into the very center of their being. The lame felt
new life in their limbs, the eyes of the blind were opened, the ears of the
deaf unstopped, and the tongues of the dumb loosed.
To those who had set their hearts against Aslan, however, this
Note cut through their hardness life a beam of light in the dark. They covered
their ears, they ran to the inmost places of their sumptuous apartments, but
still the Note persisted, penetrating, cutting, and exposing. There was no help
for these people but to leave the country altogether, and they did. Every cruel
man, dishonest merchant, and arrogant noble scrambled for the nearest border.
The throng of faithful ones moved to the center of the Square as Aslan's
enemies poured out from their buildings, holes, and booths; running, running,
desperate to escape that awful, ringing, deadly Note.
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