Now, with only the two of them, alone in the night amidst creatures that would freeze the marrow of the bravest soldier in the camp, hand in hand, they sang that same song, with voices and hearts that were pure, that were proof against the evil which surrounded them.
‘That song . . .’ Theuli muttered, frowning in concentration.
At that same instant, Deborah drew a gasping breath
At the sound of their voices, soldiers and other people came from out of the darkness, bearing torches. Elders, women and children too, came to join them.
Many of the elders recognised the simple melody; the words too, almost as from a time before living memory. They joined the two, adding their voices; the children, too. Almost reluctantly, the menfolk began adding their voices. But as their voices grew in number, so did their confidence grow.
At last, as a single congregation, some inner-memory that may have been instinct caused them to separate their voices away from the simple melody into a chorus that seemed to make the night itself ring with the after-echo of an auditorium. At last they reached the end, and the last note, and though it was over, its effect seemed to linger on for several moments.
It took several more moments for them to realize that they had won, that the spell they strived against had been broken.