It was so natural then to join hands in praise to the Lord and thanksgiving for the first real encouragement to come along in quite some time. Hank prayed a prayer of thanks and could hardly get through it as his emotions welled up inside him. Mary was grateful, not only for the encouragement but for Hank’s revived spirits.
Then Edith Duster, who’d fought in spiritual wars before, who’d won victories on foreign soils, tightly grasped the hands of this young ministering couple and prayed.
“Lord God,” she said, and the warmth of the Holy Spirit flowed through them, “I build now a hedge around this young couple, and I bind the spirits in Jesus’ name. Satan, whatever your plans for this town, I rebuke you in Jesus’ name, and I bind you, and I cast you out!”
CLUNK!
Rafar’s eyes darted toward the sound that had interrupted his talking and saw two swords fallen from their owners’ hands. The two demons, formidable warriors, were nonplussed. They both stooped hurriedly to gather up their weapons, bowing, apologizing, begging for pardon.
Slam! Rafar’s foot fell on one sword, his own huge sword clamped the other down. The two warriors, startled and terrified, backed away.
“Please pardon, my prince!” said one.
“Yes, please pardon!” said the other. “This has never happened before …”
“Silence, you two!” Rafar bellowed.
The two warriors braced themselves for a terrible punishment; their frightened yellow eyes peered out from behind black wings unfurled for protection, as if there was any protection from Ba-al Rafar’s wrath.
But Rafar did not lash out at them. Not yet. He seemed more interested in the fallen swords; he stared at them, his brow furrowed and his big yellow eyes narrowing. He walked slowly around the swords, strangely bothered in a way the warriors had never seen before.
“Uhnnnnnnnhhh …” A low, gurgling growl came from deep in his throat as his nostrils belched forth yellow vapor.
He slowly went down on one knee and picked up one sword in his hand. In his huge fist it looked like a toy. He looked at the sword, looked at the demon who had dropped it, then off into space, his gnarled face registering a burning hatred that slowly rose from deep within.
“Tal,” he whispered.
Then, like a slowly swelling volcano, he rose to his feet, the anger building until suddenly, with a roar that shook the room and terrified all those present, he exploded and hurled the sword through the basement wall, through the earth around Stewart Hall, through the air, through several other buildings on the college campus, and up into the sky where it tumbled end over end in a long arc of several miles.
His initial explosion released, he grabbed the sword’s owner and with the order, “Go after it!” flung the demon like a spear along the same trajectory.
He grabbed up the other sword and flung it at the other demon, who sidestepped just in time to save himself. Then that demon too went sailing after his sword.
To some in the room the word “Tal” meant nothing, but they could see by the faces and deflating postures of others that it had to mean something dreadful.
Rafar began to storm about the room, growling indiscernible phrases and waving his sword at invisible enemies. The others gave him time to vent himself before daring to ask any question. Lucius finally stepped forward and bowed low, much as he hated to do so.
“We are at your service, Ba-al Rafar. Can you tell us, who is this Tal?”
Rafar spun around in fury, his wings unfurling like a clap of thunder and his eyes like hot coals.
“Who is this Tal?” he screamed, and every demon present fell on his face. “Who is this Tal, this warrior, this Captain of the Hosts of Heaven, this sneaking, conniving rival of rivals? Who is this Tal?”
Complacency happened to be within grabbing distance. With a huge fist around Complacency’s scrawny neck, Rafar plucked him up like a frail weed and held him high.
“You,” Rafar growled with a cloud of sulfur and steam, “have failed because of this Tal!” Complacency could only tremble, speechless with terror. “Hogan has become a hound, sniffing and barking after our scent, and I have had my fill of you and your whining excuses!”
The huge sword flashed in a wide, crimson arc, cutting a gash in space which became a bottomless abyss into which all light seemed to drain like water.
Complacency’s eyes swelled in stark terror, and he screamed his last scream upon the earth. “No, Ba-al, noooooo!”
With a mighty thrust of his arm, Rafar cast Complacency headlong into the abyss. The small demon tumbled, fell, and kept falling, his screams becoming fainter until they vanished altogether. Rafar wiped the rift in space shut with the flat of his blade, and the room was just as it was before.
Just then the two warriors returned with their swords. He grabbed both of them by their wings and jerked them together in front of him.
“On your feet, all of you!” he hollered at the others. They complied instantly. Now he held the two demons aloft as an exhibit. “Who is this Tal? He is a strategist who can make warriors drop their swords!” With that, he hurled the two into the group, causing several to go sprawling. They picked themselves up as quickly as they could. “Who is this Tal? He is a subtle warrior who knows his limitations, who never enters a battle he cannot win, who knows all too well the power of the saints of God, a lesson you could all stand to learn!”
Rafar held his sword in a fist that trembled with rage, waving it about to give extra force to his words. “I knew all too well to expect him. Michael would never have sent anyone less to pit against me. Now Hogan is revived, and it is clear why he was even brought to Ashton to begin with; now Henry Busche is still retained and the Ashton Community Church has not fallen, but stands as a bastion against us; now the warriors are dropping their swords like clumsy fools!
“And all because of this … Tal! This is Tal’s manner. His strength is not in his own sword, but in the saints of God. Somewhere somebody is praying!”
Those words brought a chill over the group.
Rafar kept pacing and thinking and growling. “Yes, yes, Busche and Hogan were handpicked; Tal’s plan must revolve around them. If they fall, Tal’s plan falls. There isn’t much time.”
Rafar selected a slimy-looking demon and asked, “Have you laid a trap for Busche?”
“Oh, yes, Ba-al Rafar,” said the demon, and he couldn’t help laughing with delight at his own cleverness.
“Be sure it is subtle. Remember, no frontal assault will work.”
“Leave it to me.”
“And what has been done to destroy Marshall Hogan?”
Strife stepped forward. “We seek to destroy his family. He derives a great amount of strength from his wife. If that support were ripped away …”
“Do it, any way you can.”
“Yes, my prince.”
“And let us not neglect some other avenues. Hogan could be lethal, and Krueger the same, but they could be manipulated to compromise each other …” Rafar appointed some demons to look into that possibility. “And what about Hogan’s daughter?”
Deception stepped forward. “She is already within our hands.”
CHAPTER 12
THE LEAVES WERE green, that fresh, new-growth kind of green they wear in the early months of summer. From their small table on the red brick plaza below, Sandy and Shawn could look up and see the glowing leaves, backlit by the sun, and watch the birds flit about in the branches between their regular scavengings for bread crumbs and french fries. This spot on campus was Sandy’s favorite. It was so peaceful here, almost a world away from the strife, questions, and disputes at home.
Shawn enjoyed watching the brown sparrows cheeping and scrambling for every bread crumb he tossed onto the bricks.
“I love the way the universe all fits together,” he said. “The tree grew here to give us shade, we sit here and eat and give food to the birds that live in the tree. It all works together.”
Sandy was fascinated by the concept. On the s
urface it seemed very simple, almost storybookish, but part of her was so thirsty for this kind of peace.
“What happens when the universe doesn’t fit together?” she asked.
Shawn smiled. “The universe always fits together. The problem is only when people don’t realize it.”
“So how do you explain the problems I’m having with my folks?”
“None of your minds are tuned in right. It’s just like an FM station on your radio. If the signal is fuzzy and the voices hiss and sputter, don’t blame the broadcasting station—adjust your radio. Sandy, the universe is perfect. It is unified, harmonious. The peace, the unity, the wholeness are really there, and all of us are a part of the universe; we’re made of the same stuff, so there’s no reason why we shouldn’t just fit into the whole scheme of things. If we don’t, we just took a wrong turn somewhere. We’re out of touch with true reality.”
“Boy, I guess so,” Sandy muttered. “But that’s what gets me! My folks and I are supposed to be Christians and loving each other and close to God and everything, but all we ever do is argue about who’s right and who’s wrong.”
Shawn laughed and nodded his head. “Yeah, yeah, I know all about that. I’ve been there too.”
“Okay, so how did you solve it?”
“I could only solve it for myself. I can’t change other people’s minds, only my own. It’s a little hard to explain, but if you’re in tune with the universe, a few little quirks in it that aren’t in tune won’t bother you much. That kind of thing is only an illusion of the mind anyway. Once you stop listening to the lies your mind’s been telling you, you’ll see very clearly that God is big enough for everybody and in everybody. Nobody can put Him in a jar and keep Him all to themselves, according to their own whims and ideas.”
“I just wish I could find Him, for real.”
Shawn looked at her comfortingly and touched her hand. “Hey, He’s no trouble to find. We’re all a part of Him.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, it’s like I said, the whole universe all fits together; it’s made of the same essence, the same spirit, the same … energy. Right?” Sandy shrugged and nodded. “Well, whatever our individual concept of God might be, we all know that there is something there: a force, a principle, an energy, that holds everything together. If that force is part of the universe, then it must be a part of us.”
Sandy wasn’t grasping this. “This is pretty foreign to me. I’m from the old Judeo-Christian school of thought, you know.”
“So all you’ve ever learned is religion, right?”
She thought for a moment, then conceded. “Right.”
“Well, you see, the problem with religion—any religion—is that it’s basically a limited perspective, only a partial view of the whole truth.”
“Now you sound like Langstrat.”
“Oh, she’s right on, I think. When you think about it long enough, it makes a lot of sense. It’s just like that classic old story about the blind men who encountered the elephant.”
“Yeah, yeah, I heard her tell that story too.”
“Well, see? Each man’s perspective of the elephant was limited to the part that he touched, so since they all touched different parts, they couldn’t agree on what an elephant was really like. They got in a fight over it, just like religionists throughout history have done, and all they needed to realize was that the elephant was only one elephant. It wasn’t the elephant’s fault that they couldn’t agree with each other. They weren’t tuned in to each other and to the whole elephant.”
“So we’re all just like blind men …”
Shawn gave a strong, affirmative nod. “We’re just like a bunch of bugs crawling around on the ground, never looking up. If an ant could talk, you could ask him if he knew what a tree was, and if he’d never come out of the grass and actually climbed a tree, he’d probably argue with you that the tree didn’t exist. But who’s wrong? Who’s really blind? We’re just like that. We’ve allowed ourselves to be fooled by our own limited perceptions. Are you into Plato at all?”
Sandy laughed a little and shook her head. “I studied that last quarter, and I don’t think I got that either.”
“Hey, he was into the same enlightenment. He figured there had to be a higher reality, an ideal, a perfect existence of which all we see is a copy. It’s kind of like what we see with our limited senses is so limited, so imperfect, so broken up into pieces, we can’t perceive the way the universe really is, all perfect, running smoothly, everything fitting together, all the same essence. You could even say that reality as we know it is just an illusion, a trick of our ego, our mind, our selfish desires.”
“This all sounds very far-out to me.”
“Oh, but it’s great once you really get into it. It answers a lot of questions and solves a lot of problems.”
“Yeah, if you can ever get into it.”
Shawn leaned forward. “You don’t get into it, Sandy. It’s already in you. Think about that for a minute.”
“I don’t feel anything in me …”
“And why not? Guess!”
She twisted an invisible radio dial with her fingers. “I’m not tuned in?”
Shawn laughed with delight. “Right! Right! Listen. The universe doesn’t change, but we can; if we’re not lined up with it, not tuned in, we’re the ones who are blind, who are living in an illusion. Say, if your life is messed up, it’s really a matter of how you look at things.”
Sandy scoffed, “Come on, now. You’re not going to tell me that it’s all in my head!”
Shawn put up hands of caution. “Hey, don’t knock it until you try it.” He looked again at the sunshine, the green trees, the busy birds. “Just listen for a moment.”
“Listen to what?”
“The breeze. The birds. Watch those leaves waving in the wind up there.”
For a moment they were silent.
Shawn spoke quietly, almost in a whisper. “Now be honest. Haven’t you ever felt a sort of … kinship with the trees, and with the birds, with just about everything? Wouldn’t you miss them if they weren’t there? Have you ever talked to a houseplant?”
Sandy nodded. Shawn had a point there.
“Now don’t resist that, because what you’re experiencing there is just a glimpse of the real universe; you’re feeling the oneness of everything. Everything is fitted together, interwoven, interlocked. Now you’ve felt that before, haven’t you?”
She nodded.
“So that’s what I’m trying to show you; the truth is already within you. You’re a part of it. You’re a part of God. You just never knew it. You wouldn’t let yourself know it.”
Sandy could hear the birds clearly now, and the wind seemed almost melodic as it shifted in pitch and intensity through the branches of the trees. The sun was warm, benevolent. Suddenly she felt so strongly that she had been in this place before, had known these trees and these birds before. They were trying to reach out to her, to talk to her.
Then she noticed that, for the first time in many months, she felt peace inside. Her heart was at rest. It wasn’t an all-pervading peace, and she didn’t know if it would last, but she could feel it and she knew she wanted more.
“I think maybe I’m tuning in a little bit,” she said.
Shawn smiled and squeezed her hand encouragingly.
Meanwhile, with very gentle, very subtle combing motions of his talons, Deception stood behind Sandy, stroking her red hair and speaking sweet words of comfort to her mind.
TAL AND HIS troops gathered once again in the little church, and the mood was better this time. They had tasted the first promises of battle; a victory, even though a small one, had been won the night before. Most of all, there were more of them. The original twenty-three had grown to forty-seven as more mighty warriors had gathered, called in by the prayers of …
“The Remnant!” said Tal with a note of anticipation as he looked over a preliminary list presented to him.
Scion, a r
ed-haired, freckled fighter from the British Isles, explained the progress of the search. “They’re out there, Cap, and there’s plenty o’ them, but these are the ones we’ll be bringin’ in for sure.”
Tal read the names. “John and Patricia Coleman—”
Scion explained, “They were here last night and spoke up for the preacher. Now they’re all the more for him, and they drop to their knees easy as droppin’ a hat. We’ve got them workin’.”
“Andy and June Forsythe.”
“Lost sheep, you could say. Left the United Christian here in Ashton out of sheer hunger. We’ll bring them to church tomorrow. They have a son, Ron, who’s searchin’ for the Lord. A bit wayward now, but reachin’ his fill o’ his ways.”
“And plenty more, I see,” said Tal with a smile. He handed the list to Guilo. “Assign some of our newcomers to this list. Gather these people in. I want them praying.”
Guilo took the list and conferred with several new warriors.
“And what about relatives, friends elsewhere?” Tal asked Scion.
“Plenty o’ them are redeemed and ready for prayer. Shall I send emissaries to burden them?”
Tal shook his head. “I can’t let any warriors be gone for long. Instead, have messengers carry word to the watchcarers over these people’s towns and cities, and let the watchcarers see that these people are burdened with prayer for their loved ones here.”
“Done.”
Scion set right to work, assigning messengers who immediately vanished to their missions.
Guilo had sent his warriors also and was excited to see the campaign in motion. “I like the feel of this, captain.”
“It is a good beginning,” Tal said.
“And what of Rafar? Do you suppose he knows of your presence here?”
“The two of us know each other all too well.”
“Then he will be expecting a fight, and soon.”
“Which is why we won’t fight, not yet. Not until the prayer cover is sufficient and we know why Rafar is here. He’s not a prince of small towns but of empires, and he would never be here for any task below his pride. What we’ve seen is far less than the enemy has planned. How’s Mr. Hogan?”