Free There Comes A Prophet by David Litwack Page A

them. The room inside, however, was not the teaching cell he feared. It was comfortably wide, with a ceiling high enough to provide headroom to spare. It contained a serviceable cot on one side and a table and chair on the other. Though there were no windows-the walls were below ground-there was a tarnished brass receptacle on the table holding a lit candle. At least there'd be light.
    As soon as he entered, the door was locked behind him. He sat on the cot and stared at the walls. The stones were chipped and worn, leaving a layer of dust that gave the air a stale taste. But he refused to be discouraged. He remained determined to save Orah and was hopeful the vicars would agree.
    As for his notions of Temple City, he'd been deluded. This place had not a whiff of ancient greatness. Men of honor would never have built it. The strength of this conviction gave rise to cynical words spoken aloud.
    "So this is the great Temple City."
    "Not quite."
    Nathaniel froze. Was that an answering voice, or had he already gone mad? A grating came from the opposite wall, like the gnawing of a rat on stone. He grabbed the chair for defense. But what happened next took him by surprise.
    A flicker of light came through a hole in the wall, and then a muffled voice.
    "You see, there are many Temple Cities. And this is only one. Not the biggest either."
    Nathaniel set the chair down and edged toward the wall. "What did you say?"
    "Not the biggest. I've only seen three, but one was bigger. At least as far as I can recall. It was so long ago."
    Nathaniel came closer. "Who are you?"
    The voice on the far side of the wall was gaining strength. "You see, the Temple has created their world on a grid. East to west, north to south. A Temple City every six days-each responsible for children of light within a three-day-walk. And do you know for what purpose?"
    Nathaniel had no idea how to respond.
    "Control of course. To control you and me and everyone else." The voice became deep and mocking. "So the darkness shall never return. Why else do you think we're here? To protect the world from the darkness? No. To control our thoughts."
    Nathaniel had never heard words spoken so bluntly-and here in Temple City. But the voice wasn't finished.
    "The self righteous vicars and their deacons who strut about. Defenders of the light, they call them, but they're only rough men, uneducated, who do as they're told because the Temple provides them power they could never obtain on their own."
    "But who are you?" Nathaniel said, trying to be more assertive.
    The man cackled. "I'm the guest in the next room. Their favorite guest because they never let me leave. If there comes a prophet," he boomed, mimicking the vicars, "you should stone him, even if he be your own child. But if I'm a prophet, then why haven't I been stoned. Do you know why? I'll tell you. They're afraid to let me stand before my people, terrified of what I might say."
    "How is it there's this hole between the cells?"
    "Because I've scratched through with a bit of this and a bit of that. Yes, I have. Through wall as thick as a grown man's head." He tried to laugh, but only an unhealthy cough emerged.
    The man must be mad, but Nathaniel couldn't resist responding.
    "That's impossible."
    "To wear down stone? It can be done. It took twenty years, but I've done it before they've worn me down."
    Twenty years. Nathaniel drew in a breath, but stayed silent.
    The man filled the silence. "Let me have a look at you. I see so few people."
    Nathaniel approached the hole and peered through but could see nothing.
    "No, no. Not so close. It's only a small hole. Go back to the far wall so I can see. Your turn will come."
    Nathaniel did as he was told.
    "A young one, eh? Fine-looking and tall. Let me give you advice, young man. Don't stay as long as I have. Tell them whatever they want and go on your way. Lie if you must. Why did they bring you here anyway?"
    Nathaniel began to answer but stopped. This wasn't Little Pond. The