Valleyville

     “We must move into the valley!” Shouted the muscular, hairy man, slamming his burly fist on the council room table. In his excitement, he pushed back his chair and stood up, looking around at the many faces. “Those fool Seirners! They simply don't understand. We ask them to come up, we ask them to run away from their destruction, we ask them to come and live in a better, safer place, but no! They simply will not listen.” He paused, wiped away the sweat on his forehead, and continued: “They do not understand. They will not come up. It's just a fact. Therefore we are left with but one option: we must go down to them. It is the only way to reach them! We simply have no alternative.”

     “Mr. Greoff, aren't you forgetting something very important?” said a lean, simple looking fellow sitting off toward one corner of the table. “The King has most strictly commanded that no one move into the valley. In fact, wasn't it just last week that He explained why He would not let us go down there? It is a bad place, a hard place, a place of rebellion. It is for our own good that we are commanded to live in this Hilltop City. He has commanded us to remain here out of His love for us. Regardless, however, He has commanded it, and to go against his orders would be rebellion. You would be risking destruction in the coming judgment.”

     A silence filled the hall, and so the fellow continued: “Besides, Mr. Greoff, do you really think that your plan would work? If you move into the valley, the Seirners will see no good reason to come up here. 'If up-landers moved down, then the hilltop city must not be all that it's cut out to be,' they'll think. I think it would be most unwise to take your advice, sir. The only way to truly save them is to lead them up here. Any other method would be downright rebellion and worthy of death.”

     At this, Greoff could no longer keep silence. “Dear Clenton, you are young and inexperienced. Surely you must realize that the King would not destroy us! He knows those who are His subjects. He would know that we were only trying to reach those whom He has commanded us to reach. He would never destroy His faithful workers.”

     Looking directly at Greoff, Clenton said, “Rebels are not His faithful workers.”

     At this, the whole room erupted in a roar of voices, some taking Greoff's side, and others taking Clenton's. The voices carried on for another hour or so, but in the end Greoff led about two thirds of the men out of the building. They had decided to move into the Valley land.

     Greoff was dripping sweat from the tense argument as he left the building with his followers. He and the men were making their way to their homes to begin packing up for their departure. “We'll meet back here with our families and supplies at sunset,” Greoff called out as the men began to disperse through the town. Greoff made his way to his home in the northern end of the Hilltop City. In ways, he was going to miss this great city: the great white palace, the peacfulness, friends and neighbors, all those good things. Yet he convinced himself that it was a sacrifice that must be made in order to reach those poor, foolish Seirners.

     The geography of the land consisted of essentially two districts: the Hill and the Valley. On the Hill was The Hilltop City, where Greoff and the others currently lived, daily in the presence of the Great King, and the Valley was all the land surrounding the Hill. The only city in the Valley (and a massive city at that) was known as Seirn, about 15 miles away from the Hilltop City. All of the men in the Hilltop City had come from there, most having been led there either by the King or one of His delegates.

     For a moment Greoff thought of the time when he had first found his way to the Hilltop City. Yet he had to put those memories aside now, for he had arrived at his home, and he had to explain to his wife and children why they were leaving. He knew they would understand. Indeed, he was most relieved to find that they not only understood, but were excited about the change. There were so many things that they missed since they had come to the Hilltop City. They had often spoken of going back to the Valley sometime, not to Seirn of course, but only to build a little town apart from Seirn where they could live a lifestyle somewhat more like the Seirners. Not completely like them, but sort of half-way, a sort of compromise on both sides. A little Seirner lifestyle, and a little Hilltop lifestyle.

     Therefore, at the news that this vision was to become reality, they were indeed very excited. They gathered their belongings together in no time, and after grabbing some necessary equipment and supplies, they began to return to the meeting location that Greoff had chosen.

     They were not the first to arrive. Many of the single folks had gotten their things together much more quickly, and were ready to go. Slowly but surely, more and more of the families began to trickle into the group, and when it seemed that most everyone had arrived, Greoff took a horse and rode up to the front of the group: “Tonight, we march on a campaign to reach the Seirners! Tonight we begin a journey that will lead many of the lost to the Hilltop City, and we will save them from the coming destruction!” A mighty cheer rose from the host of men, women, and children preparing to make the move. As Greoff turned his horse and began to ride slowly through the gate and down the path to the Valley, the entire crowd surged like a flood behind him.

     For Greoff, this moment was a thrill. He could remember when he had first walked through that gate, but now he was going out of it. What an adventure! He was his own man. Still subject to the King, but less directly. He was now a sort of king of his own.

     They were far too excited to stop and take a rest while still on the Hill. They continued down until about midnight, when the dark ground seemed to level out at last. It was very dark, and very quiet. There were none of the normal night sounds the people were used to. There was a certain aura of fear in the air, yet Greoff comforted them by promising that it would all pass when the sun rose.

     They walked for several miles, but when they reached a seemingly flat location, they stopped. Apart from a few wispy clouds, the sky was clear and starry, and therefore it was just bright enough to set up a quick camp and bed down. Everyone grew quiet very quickly, and the whole group fell asleep.

     Greoff was right. When the sun rose, all fear was gone. There was only excitement and exhilaration to begin construction. Greoff organized the men into groups and gathered all of the supplies together. It was quite a goodly amount of supplies, quite sufficient for at least a temporary town. Greoff and the men began construction that very day.

     Later in the afternoon, however, something most unexpected occurred. A group of children were playing at a short distance from the construction grounds, when all at once they began screaming and shouting. Greoff looked up and saw seven black horsemen riding toward them, carrying the banner of Seirn. “Gather your swords, men. This could be trouble.” The men quickly scrambled for their weapons, and by the time the horsemen arrived, they had assembled in a somewhat orderly fashion to face them. The horses reined up within shouting distance of Greoff. “What do you want?” asked Greoff.

     “We could ask the same question of you, intruders. We don't much like the look of what you're doing. Is this some sort of siege camp?” the dark riders replied.

     “Indeed no, sirs. We have come to build a town here. It is not for offensive purposes whatsoever.”

     “I see,” replied the lead rider. He leaned over and whispered something into another rider's ear, who then nodded and said something back. The lead rider then dismounted, and his comrades followed his example. Off came their helmets, down dropped their swords and shields, and all other various weaponry fell to the ground after. The leader had a handsome face, and appeared to be a likeable fellow. He strode up to Greoff and put out his hand. Greoff took it tentatively, and the two shook. “My name is Briant. I am a colonel in the Sierner Army.”

     Greoff looked him in the eyes, saying with suspicion, “My name is Greoff, and I'm a member of the Hilltop City council.” They eyed each other for a few moments, and gradually the colonel's half-smile wore off Greoff's mistrust. Apparently the colonel realized that he had won over this stranger, for he smiled broadly and shifted his gaze from Greoff to the construction work. Upon seeing the few beams and boards that had been erected, however, his smile fell and he shook his head, clicking his tongue in distaste.

     “It rather looks as though you've never built a city before. Any chance you would accept help from a compassionate soul? I'd be more than willing to help. I can provide you with plans for your city, donate all the supplies you might need, and even put in a good word on your behalf to our king.”

     “You would do that for a stranger?” asked Greoff.

     “Surely! You certainly seem like you could use the help. I'll see what I can do.”

     With that, he turned, returned his helmet to his head, signaled his men to remount, gathered together all of his weapons, and rode back toward Seirn. “Those Seirners are rather nice, aren't they,” said one of the men.

“He surely seemed to be,” replied Greoff. “Tear down our work, and wait for the materials and plans he promised.”

     The next morning, as promised, Briant and several other Seirners returned to the camp, and they brought far more supplies than had been expected. Greoff was overjoyed, and he quickly set about having the supplies sorted and organized. When that was taken care of, he strode up to Briant and thanked him vigorously. They then turned to discussing the city plans. “I brought these plans here. They are plans from our city, but I do believe they will work well for you,” said Briant, handing over a large stack of papers and blueprints to Greoff.

     “I hardly know how to thank you, Colonel.”

     “It's really no trouble. In fact, we're sending some of our construction workers and architects over to help you build your city, if that's acceptable.”

     Greoff could only stand amazed. With all of this help, the city would be established in no time. He felt a little guilt about the fact that the city would be modeled after the city of Seirn, but it really didn't matter. The important thing was that a relationship was being established with the Seirners. He was sure that he could use that to turn them to the Hilltop City.

     As Greoff predicted, the city, which they named Valleyville, was established in no time. However, he was not able to convince any of the Seirners to go to the Hilltop City. Relations between the two cities were very good, but for some reason they were unable to convince any of the Seirners to move to the Hilltop City. Greoff decided that a council was necessary to discuss this matter.

     When Greoff and the other chief men of the new city had gathered together, Greoff stood to his feet to begin the meeting. “Fellow Valleyvillers, as you will well remember, we moved into this Valley in order to reach the Seirners and to assist them in moving to the Hilltop City, in order that they might escape the wrath to come. I believe we will all agree that this is the reason we came, and yet we have clearly failed to fulfill that purpose. We are holding this meeting to discuss ideas for how to solve this problem.” He then sat down again, and there was a moment of silence in the hall as the men sat pondering.

     One man then stood to his feet and said, “Well, I suppose that we have failed to get Seirners to go up the Hill, but we certainly have not failed to get them into our city.”

     “That's true!” another man quickly exclaimed. “Do you think that it could be good enough to get the Seirner's into our city? After all, we are subjects of His Majesty, His followers. We may be in the Valley, but we are His and He knows us. Do you think that simply having them move into our city would be enough to save them from the coming judgment?”

     Greoff pondered this, and after a moment said, “That is well said. I hadn't considered that, yet I do believe it is an idea worth considering. As you have said, we are servants of the King. We made the pledge, and He surely must know us. Therefore we are safe. Perhaps simply letting them join our city is enough. What does everyone else think?” There was a general murmur of agreement and affirmation, and it appeared that all of the men agreed. “I suppose then,” continued Greoff, “that we must only ask the Seirners to pledge allegiance to the King, telling them that they need only come to our city, not necessarily His. We shall have to see if they are willing to do that.”

     With that, the group was dismissed and the plan was enacted. It worked wonderfully. Valleyville grew quite rapidly as thousands of Seirners pledged allegiance to the King and moved to the new city. They were assured of their salvation from the coming judgment, yet they were not required to make the journey up to the Hilltop City.

     Greoff, who had been elected the mayor of Valleyville, was most pleased with the results. Not only were thousands of Seirners being saved, but his city was growing, as was his wallet. A most welcome combination of benefits.

     One morning several weeks later, Greoff was working in his office at a desk near a window. He was writing a letter to one of his colleagues, trying to persuade him that building a new entertainment center would be a good thing to do. He was trying to explain that it was not contradictory to any of the King's laws, but he couldn't seem to find the right words. Pondering how to write it, he put the feathered end of his pen in his mouth, and looked out the window. Lost in thought, he didn't notice much. But then something did catch his eye. Out across the barren Valley wilderness, he saw a lone traveler making his way to Seirn. Momentarily distracted from his work, Greoff reached out his burly hand for his eyeglass. He lifted it to his eye, and peered at the traveler. He gasped, for he recognized the lean traveler immediately: it was Clenton! “What in the world is he doing?” he wondered to himself. He put down the eyeglass, continuing to watch the slow-moving speck, but after a few moments he shook his head and returned to his work.

     That evening, after a busy day, Greoff had all but forgotten the traveler he had seen that morning. He was preparing for bed, and as he entered his bedroom his wife was standing at a window looking out at the great, broad countryside. She stopped him quickly, saying, “Look out there. What are those three specks? They look like small trees, except they're moving.” Greoff stood next to her and looked out. Straining his eyes, he could see three little spots moving toward the Hill, coming from Seirn. It was then that he remembered what he had seen that morning.

     “Oh, it's just Clenton. I saw him this morning.”

     “But what would he be doing coming back from Seirn?”

     “I haven't a clue,” said Greoff, turning toward the bed.

     “But if it were only Clenton, why would there be three men?” asked his wife quickly.

     Greoff stopped again, turned back and looked again. “I suppose he must have convinced two people to follow him back to the Hilltop City.”

     “Only two?”

     “Why do you think we moved down here? It is much too difficult to convince those Seirners to leave their city. They typically don't like to make the journey to the top of the Hill.”

     “I see,” returned his wife.

     “It truly is a wiser, easier way. Why make them go up the Hill when all they have to do is come to our city? It's so much easier for them.”

     “I know, and I love it down here. It's just . . . I don't know. Are you sure it's right?”

     At this, Greoff chuckled gently, and put his arm around his wife. “I'm sure.”

     The next morning: Knock knock knock! Momentary silence. Knock knock knock! Dim light met Groeff's eyes as he awoke, instantly alert. He got out of bed and opened the door. There stood a well-dressed officer of the Valleyville Army. “Sir, I've come on behalf of the commanding general. He has requested that you come to him quickly, for there seems to be a large force coming from the Hilltop City.”

     “Right away. I'll be right there,” replied Greoff, quickly turning as the young officer saluted and stood at attention. Greoff quickly put on his gray military suit, strapped on his sword and armor, and finally grabbed a black, triangular hat with a long white feather. He placed it on his head and turned to go. His wife was up now, obviously puzzled. “I have to go, dear. I'll be back later.”

     “What's going on?”

     “It appears that it may finally be Judgment Day. The King's army appears to be coming down from the Hilltop City. We may be able to join them.”

     “Oh do be careful,” said his dear wife, falling into his arms. After a few moment's goodbye, he left her and followed the young officer out of the house. They turned the corner in the dim light of the early morning. He followed down a narrow street, around another bend, and up a slight hill. There were sword-laden soldiers scattering all over the place. Some went this way, others that. It was all organized, yet at the same time, chaotic. The noise and motion grew as they drew closer to the gate that faced the Hill. Greoff and the officer squeezed there way through a tight crowd, and at last reached the general. He was easy enough to spot, sitting upon a white mare, looking through his eyeglass out toward the hill.

     “General, sir, Mayor Greoff is here,” said the young officer, saluting the general. The general put down his eyeglass and turned to Greoff. Seeing him, he dismounted and the two shook hands.

     “What's going on here, Sir?” Greoff asked in curiosity.

     “See here, toward the Hill,” replied the general, handing Greoff the eyeglass and pointing toward the Hilltop City.

     Greoff raised the glass to his eye and looked. He could see a shimmering wave descending the hill, carrying the clearly-marked white banner of the Hilltop City. The sun was hitting the side of the hill such that the whole army's armor lit up, giving them the appearance of an army of angels. Greoff's heart jumped into his throat in excitement, and he wanted to shout for joy. The day had finally come. The long-awaited day when all the rebellious Valley-dwellers would be wiped off of the face of the earth in the King's just wrath.

     “We need to connect with them, to ask them if we can help in any way,” said Greoff to the general, lowering the glass and handing it back to the general.

     “I've sent a delegate, but he hasn't returned yet,” replied the general.

     They continued to watch the awesome force as it surged down the hillside. They were at the bottom in no time, following the wave of sunlight as it washed down the slopes. The instant that the army reached the foot of the hill, the sun finally peeped over the horizon, flashing white light all across the visible landscape. It was a majestic scene as the army rushed across the wilderness. Suddenly, the general gasped: “My word! They're not turning toward Seirn. They're coming here!” With that, there was a distant yet distinct trumpet sound from the oncoming force. “Was that a war call?” the general asked himself.

     A small man on horseback came riding up then. Upon reaching the general, he dismounted, saluted stiffly, and said, “Sir, I have come to report that the oncoming force is an enemy.” The small man said this very quickly, without making eye contact with the general. He was sweating profusely, and trembling visibly. The general just stared at the pitiful little man for a time, and then jerked his head up back toward the glittering lines. He wasted not another moment. He instantly began shouting orders to his aides. He was determined to make a mighty stand against these friends-turned-foe, even though the effort was clearly futile.

     Greoff stood stunned. It couldn't be. No. It couldn't be. He realized what he needed to do. There was a misunderstanding. He grabbed a flag bearing the banner of the Hilltop City, and ran up to an officer mounted on a gray horse. “May I borrow your horse, sir?” The officer quickly dismounted, and Greoff jumped on, and courageously rode out toward the oncoming army. As he drew near, he began to shout, “Stop! Stop! Stop!” in his loudest, most authoritative voice. It was effective. A mounted leader in front of the awesome army signaled a stop. Then he and seven other leaders rode toward Greoff, their flashing garments and armor glimmering as they came. They encircled him and drew their swords simultaneously. “What is your plea, rebel Valley-dweller?” asked the rider who was the apparent leader, in a deep voice that sounded surprisingly peaceful.

      “I have come to stay this madness. You are surely making a mistake. The city you are seeking is not Valleyville, but Seirn, over there,” Greoff said, pointing toward the distant city.

     “We have not come to destroy any particular city, only every man, woman, and child that is living rebelliously in the Valley.”

     “But you see, great sir, we are here on behalf of the King, seeking to bring the Seirners to the Hilltop City,” Greoff replied, growing fearful fast. There was a pause, as the great white-garbed rider considered Greoff's words.

     “You say that the King knows you? Your mission is of Him?”

     “Yes, Sir.”

     “I find that somewhat difficult to believe, but the King will know. If He knows you, then we will spare you, otherwise, you will die with all the other Valley-dwellers. Come with me.”

     Greoff followed the mighty warrior up the hill, riding at top speed, and while riding he considered these words. The fate of his city was in his hands. If he he failed to gain the King's support, both he and his city would be brutally wiped out. His own life and the lives of all his subjects were on his shoulders.

     They reached the gates, and then slowed their pace. Inside, the entire city seemed empty. There was nobody in sight. As they rode toward the palace, however, Greoff began to hear a very great commotion. As they drew nearer, he realized that it was the sound of singing! The two continued riding toward the palace in silence, and soon Greoff could see it towering above the rest of the city. They turned down one last road, which opened up into a great, paved roadway. It was the Royal Avenue which led to the gate of the palace.

     The noise was nearly deafening. The entire Avenue was swarming with people getting as close to the palace as they could. And all of them were singing at the top of their lungs. When they saw the white rider and Greoff coming, they parted enough to let the horses through, but they never stopped singing. Greoff noticed that some were crying, apparently for joy, while others were nearly laughing as they sang. It was a bazaar scene to his eyes. Soon they reached the front gate of the palace, where they had a very tough time squeezing through. They made it into the palace courtyard, however, and progressed toward the main building.

     The courtyard was also filled with joyful singers, many of whom Greoff began to recognize as men and women he had known when he had lived in the City. In fact, as he neared the great golden doors of the palace, he was surprised to see Clenton very near the front of the crowd, near the doors. With him were two men, both of them sobbing and on their knees. Clenton was saying something to them, with his hands on their shoulders, but Greoff couldn't make out any of the words. One of the men looked up at Greoff for a moment, with tears streaming down his cheeks like rivers from his eyes, flowing past a joyful mouth.

     That image stuck in Greoff's mind as he and the glittering warrior dismounted from their horses and climbed the stairs to the great golden doors. The warrior knocked, and a little door on the side opened, revealing a suited attendant. Seeing the white-robed soldier, he quickly shut the little door and opened the great golden doors. They opened powerfully, yet quietly, revealing an immense, glimmering, golden hall. As soon as they had been ushered inside, the doors shut behind them. The attendant then led them down the great hall. At the far end of the hall there was a great throne, and upon the throne sat the King Himself.

     When they had reached the great throne, the glittering warrior fell, nearly trembling, bowing before the King. Greoff followed his example. “Captain,” the King said gently. Then he asked, “Who is this?”

     The white warrior arose and looked at the King's good face. “It is one of the Valley-dwellers, Lord. He has come to plead deliverance for his city.”

     “I see,” replied the Mighty King, and turning to Greoff, He asked, “Sir, what is your case?”

     Greoff arose now, and looked to the King. “Your majesty, Your armies are about to destroy a city devoted to Your good work.”

     “Would you care to elaborate, please?”

     “Of course, Sire,” Greoff replied boldly. “You see, as I believe You know, a while back there was a group of us that realized that the Seirners weren't coming to the Hilltop City. We tried everything, and they wouldn't come. So, Sir, we decided that we would be more fruitful if we moved down there. We thought that if we were more like them, then perhaps we could more easily persuade them to come to the City.”

     There was a silence. “Then you moved to the Valley?” the King asked solemnly. Greoff nodded his head. “Did you not know My command? No man is to take up residence in that evil place.”

     Greoff looked at the floor. “We knew, Sir, but we had to, You see. We had to reach the Seirners.”

     “Have any Seirners ever come to this City from yours?”

     Greoff opened his mouth to speak, then paused. Suddenly he realized that not one Seirner had ever gone to the Hilltop City from Valleyville. He stuttered, “N-no, Your Majesty. B-but, there were many who moved to our city. We believe that is enough.” He knew not what else to say. He had entered the hall confident and fearless. That confidence was long gone now, and he began to tremble and sweat.

     There was a long silence. A very long silence. Greoff soon looked up to see what was going on. The King had a massive book on His lap, and it was opened slightly toward the front. The King was looking very carefully, moving His eyes quickly down the page, as though scanning a list. His eyes stopped at the bottom of the page. They held there. He didn't move. Greoff didn't move. He just watched. A drop of sweat formed on his forehead, and rolled coldly down his brow, then onto his cheek, then down to his chin. It then built up, finally dropping onto the floor. Greoff didn't move. The King did. He looked up ever so slowly, until His eyes finally met with Greoff's. There was a grief, a love, and yet also a wrath in His eyes. Greoff had never seen such eyes. His whole attention was thrown into those eyes, into that majestic Person: His jaw twitched, His brow wrinkled slightly, His mouth opened, and spoke: “I never knew you. Depart from Me, you worker of lawlessness.”

     Greoff's heart stopped. Time stopped. The words echoed in his head, as if he were in a large empty room with nothing but those words. He felt himself being pulled, and he could not resist. He fell backwards, yet it was all so unreal. His eyes never left the King's. He felt himself sliding. He could hear nothing but those words. He slid farther and farther away, yet he could feel nothing. A great, hot tear stained his dark, sweaty cheek. How could it be?