kingdom of god 23

The preacher lifted Gomez over his shoulders and carried him down king’s road. Passersby only glared at the men as sweat drenched down Stephanos’ face. Blood trickled down his smock. Urgency coursed through his veins as the midday sun beat down upon him. “I’m a dead man,” said Gomez. “Just leave me here.” But the preacher ignored him. Miles ahead and his knees began to buckle. He saw a thicket of trees yards off to the right and headed towards it. In a small clearing, he laid down Gomez’s whitening body and tended to his bleeding. “Thank you for your help preacher,” the dying man said, “but there’s nothing more to be done.” Blood puddled into the grass and Gomez grew cold. Before nightfall, he was dead.

Stephanos sat silently beneath the trees for several hours while Gomez’s body rested peacefully against the oak. The nighttime prairie glowed from a full moon and the preacher figured he would bury him in the morning. Numbed by the day’s pain, he struggled to make his bed. Against his better instincts, he dug through the deceased man’s remains and made a fire. He didn’t eat and he didn’t drink. His eyes remained fixed on the smoldering flame.

The hours passed. The preacher’s eyes grew heavy. Then there was a cracking at the edge of the meadow. He turned around to find a hunched over man walking hand in hand with a small boy. As they approached, the fire illuminated the man’s face. He was scared and bundled up in a charcoaled duster. What appeared to be a cane holding him up was actually a long range shotgun. Staphanos thought of reaching for the pistol but the small boy threw him off. The boy was five or six years old and said nothing.

“Excuse me sir,” the man said. “Mind if we rest by your fire?”

The preacher drew a sigh of relief and welcomed them in. “Of course,” he said. “I’m sorry but I have to food or water to give you.”

“What about that fellow over there?”

“He’s dead.”

“Did you kill him?”

“No. I found him wounded on the side of the road. I couldn’t save him.”

The man straightened out his coat and sat next to the fire. The boy sat with him. He sat the shotgun off to the side and held his hands over the fire. “I’m Stephanos, an emissary of Jonny,” the preacher said. “I won’t hurt you.”

“Yes I know who you are,” the man said.

“You’ve seen me before?”

“In Cessa in fact. You claim to have received the word directly from Jonny.”

“That is true. I have received the word.”

“Then tell me preacher. If you’ve received the word from Jonny, why don’t you recognize me?”

TO BE CONTINUED…

kingdom of god 22

And with Cessa gone, the preacher wondered senselessly toward the bountiful vista. He thought that when the king’s road ended he might journey further into the marauding lands. But as thoughts of an unknown future conjured, he held the pistol and considered burying it under a stone or tossing it into a passing creek. The path was lonely. Only an occasional drifter came coursing along towards the beleaguered south. No words were exchanged between the parties. They both knew fate had them marching towards perdition. But a little deeper into the steppe, Stephanos happened across a traveler beaten and battered behind a small sandstone deposit. He was unconscious. The preacher dabbled water onto his lips and when he came to, he noticed the traveler was stabbed and his leg broken. He rested him against the rock and tended to his bleeding. They rested there for several hours and at sundown, the preacher made a fire and gave him what little substance he could provide. Afterward, he stood watch throughout the night while on the lookout for returning marauders.

He thought about the pistol. He took it from the holster and held it firmly.

By morning, the bleeding had stopped. The traveler awoke and asked for water and the preacher provided. “I’m Stephanos, an emissary of Johnny,” he told the traveler.

The man lowered the canteen from his lips. “I’m Javier Gomez, a representative from the Agency,” he said.

“How did this happen to you?”

Gomez struggled to recall. “I was attacked on my HUV returning to Nisan. I don’t know. They must have taken it.”

“The vehicle?”

“Yes.”

“Were they going south?”

“Yes.”

Stephanos stood up and stared down the path towards the horizon. The sun was climbing towards its zenith and the nearest inn was miles away. He knew he would have to carry Gomez the entire way and that they wouldn’t make it before sundown. “I suspect you were followed,” he told Gomez. “You’re from the agency. Why were you traveling alone?”

“I wasn’t alone.”

“What happened to the others?”

“I don’t know. I was returning from Cessa.”

“Why?”

“Because the Shepherd had called for me.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

kingdom of god 21

Stephanos left the temple before dusk and trekked north from the city center past the beggars and the guards through the morning dew and back towards the northern steppe. Outside of the walls where the sheep herders and common traders were gathered, he attracted a small flock led by Jena and she accosted him while men gathered stones and small arms. The preacher threw up his hood and held his head low but Jena spat and cursed upon him. A stone struck his back and knocked him to the ground, but before the crowd could descend upon him, the woman fought back the agitators and permitted him safe passage. With the city behind him, he prayed to the god which had forsakened him for the forgiveness of his transgressors and for the soul of Nisan. The preacher never returned.

He traversed the king’s road past the sandstone barriers which marked the northerly entrance of the Nisan province and the road gently sloped downward into a sea of green and gold grasses. The prairie flattened. As the sun lingered in the sky, Stephanos could make out specks floating along the deep blue horizon. While the wild horses were long gone, the preacher presumed them to be travelers or a caravan of light vehicles that once dominated the steppe. But as they drew nigh, it was apparent that they were indeed men with horses. With caution entering his mind, Stephanos threw up his hands with his left showing the sign of Jonny. They came closer. He could see they had faces painted like those of marauders with spears of scalps and bones, and when they were in earshot, he greeted them in the Saranian tongue.

The leader returned his greet. “I speak your tongue,” he told the preacher.

“Then you should know I hold no weapon,” Stephanos said. “I am an emissary of Jonny and I’m returning to Cessa.”

“I can see that,” the marauder informed him. “I do not intend you harm but you must surrender your gold and silver.”

“But I don’t carry much.”

“Then give us what you have.”

The preacher lowered his hands and surrendered his satchel. A marauder climbed off his horse to gather it and slung it around his body. Pitying the dispossessed, the leader reached into his saddle and tossed Stephanos a Colt revolver pistol sheathed in a leather holster. “Cessa has been destroyed by Nighthawks,” he informed the preacher. “You will need that weapon on the road ahead. I suggest you use it.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

kingdom of god 20

But before he departed the city, Stephanos sought refuge in the temple. He wept at the feet of the gods and prayed for the people of Nain and his safe passage to the steppe. He was joined by the temple priest who laid his hands upon him and comforted him. “I know you,” the priest said. “I’ve heard your message.”

“I was just released from the citadel,” he told the priest. “What have the people done to deserve this?”

The holy man took the preacher by the arms and embraced him. “I had you released,” the priest said. “Your message of peace towards the Shepherd rings true. But if the word of Jonny is correct, then we must do as the Shepherd says and prepare the people to leave the Nain”

Consternation came upon the preacher and he challenged the priest. “Jonny spoke no such words,” he said.

“I was there Stephanos,” the priest reassured him. “I knew and understood the heart of Jonny and was given the commission to spread his word.”

The preacher realized that he knew this man as the first ambassador of Jonny, the speaker of truth. “You’re Telas?” he asked.

“Aye. I am he. I loved Jonny as a brother. And as his humbled servant, he named me as the stone on which to build his temple.”

“But where must the people go?”

“Southwards. Past the Urbanas and the river of Siana. There a new kingdom will be created. God’s kingdom. And there is where the Temple will be established and the word of Jonny proclaimed. Emissaries have been sent to prepare the way.

“I don’t understand. Jonny said the Nain was the established kingdom.”

“Was the word revealed to you Stephanos?”

“Yes. When I was imprisoned in Cessea. A vision appeared to me in the night and the truth spoken. Others saw it and I was given my own commission.”

“Then I am afraid that you are mistaken. I saw the messenger with my own eyes. He spoke to me in his earthy form. His own flesh and blood body.”

“Telas, I’m sorry. But it is you who is mistaken. It is the heavenly form which is greater than the flesh and blood. That is the word which must be made manifest. Peace can be restored with the Shepherd and the land can remain with its rightful heirs.”

The great priest’s eyes grew heavy and he did not wish to continue the bickering. He waved the preacher off but not before extending him a courtesy. “You must return to the steppe,” Telas ordered. “You can stay in the temple for the night. But you must leave by morning.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

kingdom of god 19

At the citadel, the preacher was hastily questioned by police and stowed away in the stockades overlooking the marching grounds outside along with the common thieves and the revolutionaries. In the yard surrounding them rested bones and rotted flesh and the black flies and vultures of death. Stephanos prayed to the god that be for his safe passage into the next world as men were dragged out by chromed guards and were summarily beaten and bound. Some were shot and bodies left where they fell. The revolutionaries were tied up and bayoneted and their leaders stripped and humiliated and the prisoners were called to attention to witness the execution of the latest ringleader who appeared before them bound and naked to the bone. He was buggered by the barrel of a rifle and his genitalia cut off and when it was over he was whipped and clubbed and he took it all with the serene power from a god the Preacher could never fathom. But bloodied and battered, the condemned man stood almost defiantly on his feet with his ankles and wrists bound and a noose around his neck. The other end of the rope was tied to a motored vehicle and the engine roared and the dirt kicked up beneath the wheels. The driver roared off and the prisoner flew forward behind him and his body was dragged and tossed through the mud before the vehicle swiftly turned and flung the prisoner’s body away from his head.

Stephanos wept at the horror. He clung to his sacred texts and hopes in a desperate cry for a reprieve and in the dead of night, he was whisked away to the watchman. He was brought to his knees and the watchman looked him over and questioned him. “You’re not a revolutionary, are you?” he asked the preacher.

“No. I’m a messenger of Jonny.”

“There seems to be a lot of those these days,” the watchman mocked. “Where are you from?”

“I’m from the steppe.”

“Then I suggest you return to the steppe. We can’t have large gatherings on the streets. I hope you understand.”

The preacher reluctantly nodded. They unbounded him and marched him down the hill and to the city streets and the watchman warned him that if he saw him again, he will be shot.

TO BE CONTINUED…

kingdom of god 18

PART II

In those winter months, the streets of Nasan swelled with the peoples of Nain with all their tongues and customs and they came to hear the wise words of Stephanos, a mysterious preacher of the plains who claimed the touch of Jonny and his message of peace. He stood upon the stoas and he shouted to the hungry denizens that the reign of the nighthawks was nearing and that the Shepherd was to lend a guiding hand. “God opened his heart,” Stephanos proclaimed of the Shepherd. “He told him that the Nain would be born anew and that bellies will be fed and the kingdom declared! The Urbanas shut up its passages to keep the people from fleeing because this is their land! Their kingdom!”

But a rabble rouser from the throng, a woman, shouted out of the masses to challenge him. “But the Shepherd brought the Nighthawks!” she cried out to the evangelist. “There can be no peace as long as he lives!”

Stephanos called her out from the crowd and when she came forth, he recognized her as a woman from the northern steppe. From atop of his stoa, he looked upon her and blessed her. “Jana, why do you challenge me?” he posed.

“Did you walk with Jonny? Did you hear his words? Did you feel his divine lifeblood in his presence?” she countered.

The crowd looked to one another and Stephanos sensed the unease. He raised his arms to calm them and then he turned his loving gaze towards Jana. “Yes, I felt all of that,” he said. “After the tragedy of the Nighthawks, I saw Jonny’s divine lifeblood absent from his earthly form and from this essence, I received his wisdom. He revealed to me that friend and enemy will walk in hand and the divisions that separated us for so long will be trampled upon and that we will receive a guiding light out of the stars and that the ultimate wisdom revealed to Jonny, the Ambassadors, and finally myself will be bestowed upon all of you. But it begins with a simple message of love and forgiveness and opening our hearts to the Shepherd.”

A smattering in the crowd laughed. Jana mocked and spat. “Think what you want,” she declared. “But there will be no rest until the Shepherd dies!”

There was a murmuring in the masses and few left the throng. But Stephanos wooed the remaining with sage words until men with guns stormed the forum and apprehended him. When the crowd saw what was happening, there was an uproar. The preacher tried to calm the simmering maelstrom but the armed men fired into the masses and it quickly dispersed. But in the thundering panic, men and women were trampled underfoot or shot outright and the peace proclaimed by the preachers of Jonny for the city of Nasan was again shattered.

TO BE CONTINUED…

kingdom of god 17

Wade and the girl reached the southern slopes into the Siana River valley under a cloudless and sullen moon. They crossed the rocky rivulets back into the abandoned village of Khiva and when they reached the tavern, the girl took clothes for life in the new world and they held refuge there for two days. Wade plundered through Sheridan’s belongings searching for anything of worth but he found only a few shekels of silver and whiskey bottles and nothing else. He stashed them in his satchel and in the morning they marched several miles eastward toward the river’s edge and when they saw Harar on the southern shore, the ferryman saw them and took them across. The old man remarked on Wade’s silent companion and then informed them of nighthawks screaming southbound days earlier. “I’d watch yourself with a pretty young thing in tow,” the ferryman warned. But Wade dismissed him and headed into town.

Despite coldness drifting from the west, Harar was largely vacant of trappers and prospectors that populated its streets during the wintry months and the Agency office too was deserted. Only the innkeeper kept business afloat and when Wade saw him take respite under the awning, he called out to him.

“If you see Gomez, tell him I’m looking for him!” Wade shouted.

But the innkeeper lifted a pipe to his lips and said nothing. They pushed south. In a day’s travel they reached Tollum’s land and the town was raised and smoldering and the fields of phlox burned. The smoke from the depleted inferno still polluted the air and it followed them down into Milner’s Promised Land where a fresh hell of flames awaited them. The courthouse, the town, families and homes were gone. Only the cratering and mounds of earth remained. Wade wept and furied at the destruction and the girl could not console him.

He took his rifle and marched back to Harar.

TO BE CONTINUED…

kingdom of god 16

Wade feigned ignorance at the girl’s name and Josea held his hands to the prisoner’s face as word of an otherworldly realm slipped through him. “A great child will be born of this woman bearing your seed,” the prophet declared.

“Who is the woman?”

Josea’s hands fell from Wade’s face and he returned from his godly trance. From his seat on high he looked at Wade and proclaimed that he cannot be permitted to enter the Nain. Wade pleaded with him.

“And what of Sheridan?” he asked.

“A blood sacrifice is still demanded of him.”

“Let him go. He has nothing to do with this.”

“Would you permit the woman to take his place?”

“But you said a great child will be born of her.”

“And a great sacrifice it would make.”

Wade spat at him and Josea ordered him away and he was ushered back to the chamber where Sheridan direly awaited news of his fate. Back inside, Wade looked to the ground and he shuffled unable to deliver the prophet’s decree. “They’re completely mad here,” he told his comrade.

“I know that,” said Sheridan. “But will they let us go?”

“The girl and I are permitted to go. You will stay.”

“What does that mean?”

“That’s not for me to say.”

“Goddamnit Wade! Be straight with me for once! Are they going to kill me?!”

“Likely Sheridan. There’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Nothing you can do about it?! You’re sacrificing me to save a piece of poon!”

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry won’t save me! I hope hell burns hot for you!”

At sunup, the warriors returned Wade’s rifle to him and he and Seia were exiled from the pass and they journeyed southwards towards Khiva. Sheridan was taken from his chamber and was quartered first by hacking off his limbs and while he still breathed his belly was split open and his blood rushed into the troths where the warriors of Josea were cleansed and the bones of the old drifter were cast off to the flames.

TO BE CONTINUED…

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And she kept returning. When the day’s festivities drew to a close and the crisp air bit down she came into his chamber bearing goat meat and olives and wines for Sheridan. The older man drank of the wine and when he was fast asleep the two beloveds undertook their wordless dalliance first by a caress of the hand then a stroke of the cheek. And when he kissed her, she entered behind his chamber and he took from her what could not be given back. In the nights thereafter she took him out of the chamber and away from the prying eyes of the community and in an enclave nestled high in the mountains he would lay with her and look down to the Nain below and consider his escape. He could not convey to her the need for his Remington and buck knife nor plead on behalf of Sheridan. He would return to his prison each night.

They had been in the Yorkin Pass for a fortnight when the priest came to them. The holy man blessed them and told them that the time to take the Nain was near. “You will be a blood sacrifice,” he said.

“Wait a minute,” begged Wade. “I told you before that they have guns. You will need us.”

“And you have been told before that you must be washed of the blood to enter the Nain.”

“Then wash me goddamnit!”

“Your moment has passed. You have been sanctified.”

“I want to speak with Josea!”

“Not even the great prophet can change the will of God.”

“I will speak with him anyway. Give him my last testimony.”

But the priest only blessed them then departed. The next morning Wade was taken out his chamber and escorted to the temple and placed at the feet of Josea. The prophet held open his palm as was the symbol of Jonny and ordered the prisoner to speak.

“You’re making a mistake,” Wade shouted.

“It’s a decree of God. There are no mistakes,” Josea stated without interest.

“You will be slaughtered.”

“So be it.”

“Then why speak with me?”

Josea leaned forward and placed his hand on the head of the prisoner. He closed his eyes as if to receive a message from God and then he revealed to Wade his great revelation.

“Seia,” spoke the prophet.

TO BE CONTINUED…

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And for the next several days at moonlight, the holy man would enter their chambers and chant hymns in the tongue of Nain and place the seal of unity in ochre paints onto their heads and bless the prisoners before departing. On these nights, the priest’s eyes would turn white as lightning and his chantings were like a demonic serenade and when the ceremony was over he would wash his bear skinned cloak in the blood of an unknown creature and drape it over his shoulders.

“Blood will cleanse our land,” the holy man said to Wade.

“Who’s blood?”

“You will see.”

“Ours?”

But the priest departed and said nothing and then the Saranian girl entered the chamber and offered the men unleavened bread and meats and wine. Wade took of the wine and drank and then thanked her and asked of the ring. She heard him but said nothing.

“Do you understand me?” he asked her but she stood bewildered. “I’m Wade,” he said and thumbed his chest.

The girl nodded. “Sela,” she spoke.

“Sela,” Wade repeated. “You are beautiful.” He gestures to her face. “Very beautiful.”

The girl again faintly smiled and bowed and then swiftly left the chamber. Sitting in the back, Sheridan chuckled to himself. “You certainly have a way with the ladies,” he jested towards Wade.

“I have a plan.”

“Oh I know you have a plan. And I can see it’s working.”

“There’s a reason why they’ve kept us alive for this long.”

“Of course. They’re gonna make us a part of their blood ceremony. See? You’re not the only smart one here.”

“Do you see any other way out?”

“I don’t. So keep working your magic.”

After finishing the bread and wine, Sheridan was fast asleep and Wade laid awake listening to the ceaseless chanting and drum beats before it all faded away into the night. And minutes after it did, Sela returned to the chambers and offered him more bread and then she took the dead hermit’s ring and placed it back into his hand.

“No no,” said Wade. He took her by the left hand and slid it onto her finger. “This is for you. Something to remember me by.”

TO BE CONTINUED…