Shadowman and the Wanderer

SHADOWMAN AND THE WANDERER

by

J.M. MacLEOD

           

The spy, though unbidden, went directly to the master's headquarters where the chief warlords were in a tactical meeting. He looked more an ambassador from a long ago age than a spy. His garments, worn and threadbare, were too festive, too important for a mere slinker and snooper.

            "Where do you think you're going?" an imposing guard challenged as the

spy attempted to pass.

            The spy regarded the sentry with disdain, then defended, "I have important information. The master will want to hear my report immediately."

            "Skipping channels, eh? Someday you'll overstep your authority. Can't go in now; they're plotting a new strategy—very important."

            "Well, he'll want to hear me," the spy insisted as he tried to push past.

            The guard thrust him backward. "I said he's in session—with those more important than the likes of you. You have to wait."

            Bruised in ego, the spy brushed off his outer covering as if to remove the very touch of the guard as he retorted, "If you delay this information, you'll suffer the consequences."

            Something in the spy’s cocksure manner made the guard reconsider. "Well, what's so all-fired portentous about your information? Let me have a look."

            "Hah! Not likely! I know you; you'll take the credit yourself. Besides, it's a verbal report. I haven't had time to document it. That's how pressing it is! Now, let me pass."

            The guard barred the entrance, standing squarely in front of the opening, legs spread, arms folded across his chest. For a moment they struggled, testing each other's will. This orderly, stubbornness personified, had been specifically selected to guard the master’s HQ.

`           The spy finally yielded; struggle was useless.

            With a smug look of triumph the guard decided to be magnanimous in his victory. "I'll see if he thinks your report is so imperative. Wait here." The orderly ducked inside the tent flap.

            The spy, deviousness personified, slipped in so closely behind the guard that the tent flap falling back into place didn't even hit him.

            The interior was smoky and dimly lit, there was a faint odor of brimstone. The spy caught his breath as he glanced about the gathering: collected in one place were the entire world’s power moguls. This indeed, was a special meeting. In the center of the tent on a throne sat the master, ruling through glances and almost imperceptible motions.

As the orderly and the sneaky spy entered all talk ceased. The master wasn’t pleased at the intrusion, nor apparently, were his subordinates; they glared sullenly at the newcomers. The orderly knew better than to speak before invited.

            "Well?" intoned the deep resonance of the master like a million despairing souls.

            "Excuse me sir, I don't mean to interrupt, but there's this spy outsi—!" For the first time the guard realized he’d been followed. He lunged for the spy's throat.

            "Stay your hand, guard," ordered the master. "What's his business?"

            Surprised at the master’s interest, the guard said, "H-h-he claims to have important information. I told him to go through channels, report his information for classification and all, but he's most insistent on reporting to you in person, as you can see. I tried to warn him, but he—."

            An upraised hand silenced the orderly. The master’s garments, battle gear, jewelry and crown had kept their luster better than his subordinates, yet, he too, began to look somewhat worn. The war weighed heavily, even though they controlled all fronts. The bejeweled crown on his brow bestowed upon its bearer a regal air, yet the master’s facial features were sinister, giving an overall pall of malignant power. He was a savage regent, ruthless and cruel, fighting what he knew to be a futile struggle. He would lose in the end, there was no doubt. To have survived this long was, indeed, a wonder. Up against vastly superior odds, he'd waged both subtle and blatant attacks on his enemy's holdings—gaining control surprisingly easily. He ruled judges, politicians, philosophers, religionists, entertainers, law enforcement, militaries, and the masses. Resistance to him was all but non-existent. But though he used deceit to keep his followers in line, he never deceived himself about the eventual outcome of the war. He would lose. It was just a matter of when. He existed solely now to continue the struggle as long as possible, making life for humans as harsh and cruel as he dared; inflicting as much pain and damage as possible, all for the sake of hate.

            "Report," the master ordered after studying the spy. The guard receded out the door.

            The spy straightened, snapped a salute and declared "He’s arrived, sir."

            The warlords and power moguls looked blankly at each other, angry that this insolent intruder had drawn the master’s attention away from them for such an enigmatic, if not trivial, report. But upon seeing the master’s reaction—that he considered it worthy of attention—they looked jealously at the spy again.

            "Indeed," said the master. This was obviously unwelcome news. Those in attendance recognized the symptoms of rising anger, and feared for their own safety. "Are... you... absolutely certain?" His narrowed eyes scrutinized every aspect of the spy's demeanor. His servants weren’t above overstatement.

            "There's no question, sir."

            "I see." The master went within himself.

            "Sir?" the spy intruded.

The warlords couldn't believe the junior officer’s audacity.

            "The master fixed his gaze on the spy. "Yes? What is it?"

            "I've taken the liberty of putting our strongest battalions on alert, in your name. Knowing the gravity of the situation, I thought there was no time to waste."

            A gasp emitted from the assembled officers.

            "No, that won't be necessary... yet," the master responded with a wicked, self-pleased grin.

All present relaxed, the crisis had passed, the master had a plan.

"I'll personally look into it." Briefly considering those around him, as if deciding whether to let them in on the mystery or not, the master merely said, "Put what we’ve discussed into action. That's all for now."

            One of the highest-ranking officers asked, "Sir, what’s this all about?"

            "Perhaps, the beginning."

            "The beginning of what, sir?"

            "The end. Now away, all of you, prepare your units to implement the plans."

             Scurrying like rats caught in a lantern’s sudden light, the warlords left their master's presence, leaving the spy and the master alone.

            "Tell me," ordered the master.

            "He was at the river—the one you assigned to me, the one crazy without our help—doing his rituals on all the people he could enchant."

            "Go on."

            "Then another man came wandering through the crowds. Before anything even happened, I knew it was him. I stayed only long enough to observe so I'd have something definite to report, but I knew him at once."

            "What did you observe?"

            "This wanderer came into the river where my assignment was, like I said, performing his  ritual on the people. Then a bird—only much more than a bird—flew from heaven and landed on the newcomer. My assignment took this as a sign."

            "And the crowds?"

            "Oh, they missed the significance of that sign... but they had another sign that was unmistakable..." the spy's voice wavered.

            The Master waited.

            "It was a voice  from... from...."
            "Yes, yes, I know from where. What exactly did it say?"

            "It said who he was."

            "Just like that?"

            "Just like that. Of course, I put out the word to those of our order on the scene to confuse or misquote it or even make it seem like a natural noise. I think the effect was muted considerably."

            "Don't underestimate our enemy. He never wastes a movement. Your misinformation tactics had been already taken into account.

            "Did I do wrong to try, sir?" The spy was appalled at what might happen to him.

            "No. Under the circumstances there wasn't much else you could've done. Don't worry, you'll be rewarded.”

            Recognizing his dismissal, the spy retreated, leaving his master to brood.

            "One more thing...." said the master catching the spy just before he exited.

            "Sir?"

            "Where's the wanderer now?"

~

            The wanderer climbed toward a rock’s high vantagepoint to survey the terrain. The rock was warm, he found, as he grasped at nooks and crannies. Wet as his garments had been an hour earlier, the hot desert sun had removed all trace of moisture. Reaching for an overhead grip, he felt something move beneath his groping hand. A scorpion angrily bobbed its tail-stinger in self-defense. The man deftly scooped it up for closer observation. He smiled as he studied the intricate patterns of this little desert dweller, so efficiently designed to sustain life in such a hostile environment. He placed the arachnid on another ledge where it could go on about its business undisturbed and continued his climb.

Several minutes later he gained the top of the rock and shielding his eyes against the glare of the sun read the lay of the land. Not a very promising place to begin. The first jousts would take place in this wilderness, quite the opposite of the first battlefield when the realm had been lost. That had been a luscious, wonderful garden. The second battleground was to be a barren wilderness, the exact opposite of where the war had begun.

            He scanned the horizon, searching for a lack of heat waves which might indicate the presence of water. There was no discernible break. He wasn’t worried; water would be available when he needed it. He spied a lion in the distance—rare for this region, but not unheard of—sleeping off a meal in the shade of an outcropping rock. Near the lion, in the full, blistering heat of the sun was the half-eaten remains of an aoudad. Some jackals skulked nearby, not daring to venture too close to the slumbering lion, yet anxious to steal a meal. Vultures circled lazily overhead, waiting their chance to descend and gorge on the bloating carcass.

            A dust dervish suddenly sprang up coming down ravines, across wadis, over escarpments, straight for the rock upon which the man stood. It stopped abruptly upon reaching him; dust and debris settled to the ground. A shadowy, human shape stood where the dervish had ceased.

            The man on the rock turned away, sat, and rested his head on his hands over upraised knees.

            "Wanderer, are you lost?"

            The man on the rock slowly faced the shadow. "You know I am not."

            "Then what are you doing way out here, away from your own kind? You don't strike me as the hermit type. Perhaps I can help you. Just tell me who you are, and what you're doing here."

            "I have no doubt that you know who I am, and why I’ve come."

            "Ahh, I see. I know who you think you are, but we both know that it's quite impossible for you to really be—well, you know."

            "Then why have you come to seek me out in this solitude if not because of who I am?"

            "Oh, I often come here. It helps to escape once in a while; the pressures of ruling, you know."

            The man on the rock turned away.

            "So, I assume you've come to meditate? And more, perhaps? Ah! Fasting too? I do hope you'll be sensible. That sort of thing can be overdone. Ruins the health, you know, if prolonged. And water—out here? Believe me, there's none to be had in the whole desert. You'd be much better off doing your purification rites in a nicer—."

            "Enough!" The man began climbing down.

            "Oh, by the way, did you notice all the dangerous beasts? More than usual, it seems. Have you seen the lion over there? And snakes, and scorpions too. Even a few stray wolves about too, I shouldn't doubt. Who knows, perhaps even a bear will turn up. I don't think I'd like to be out here alone at night in the cold, with all manner of beasts creeping about if I were made of tasty flesh and blood."

            The man reached the ground and walked away without a backward glance.

            "Not at all a good place to find out that you're not really what you think you are," the shadow called after him.

~

            "I saw your fire and knew it must be you."

            The man warming himself by the fire didn't turn to see who had just joined him. Stars dotted the night sky like distant candles; the moon had not yet risen.

            "What, no greeting? I should've thought you'd be glad for some company by now. It gets pretty lonely out here. Especially after, what is it now, four days?"

            The man turned to his unwanted guest. "Three."

            "Yes, of course, three. You know how time sort of blends together out here in the wilds. It's so easy to lose track." Getting no further response, the shadowy figure tried another tack.

            "You were difficult to find, building your fire under an enclosure like that. Will you be staying—such a clever idea—will you be staying here for the duration of your... ah... shall we call it preparation?"

            The wanderer made no reply.

            "Oh come now, remember, 'it's not good for man to dwell alone'. You do remember that, don't you? How about letting me know where you'll be so I can visit from time to time. After all, bad company is better than no company. There's nothing written in the rites of purging that says you must be alone, is there?"

            The man lifted his eyes to the heavens, a smile on his lips. "I am never alone."

            The Shadowman jerked his head back. "Uh, no, of course not, not as long as I'm with you—oh, ah, I see what you mean. Of course, I'd forgotten that you'd probably be thinking like that. Poor soul! Can't you see how you're deluding yourself? If you want my opinion, this fasting business is making you light-headed.”

            "I don't."

            "You're full of  fantastic notions, yet you don't think the fasting has anything to do with it?"

            "I don't want your opinion."

            "It's gotten that bad, has it?"

            The man lay down, his back to the fire, resting his head on a rolled-up cloth atop a rock. Within minutes he was asleep.

~

            "It's been a week, are you going back today?"

            The man kept walking as he was led from within.

            "Didn't know I was catching up from behind, did you?" taunted the Shadow.

            "Didn't care." He kept his pace sure and even.

            "Now that's cruel. That really digs deep."

             The man ignored the comment.

            "It took me a while to find you. Oh, by the way, I'm not the only one concerned, you know.”

            The man turned and pierced the Shadow with a glance. The last misstatement was so obvious that no comment was needed.

            The Shadowman dropped his eyes. "Well, I am concerned… just not in the same way."

            The wanderer resumed his stride.

            "I've been checking to see how your family is getting on without you. I sort of expected you might have already gone back, hoping you’d have returned to your senses and responsibilities like an elder son should. You know that your brothers can't match your abilities. They try, but customers have come to expect the quality only you can produce. The business will suffer if you don't soon return. In fact, I know for a fact that this very day many disgruntled customers will take their business elsewhere. People can be so fickle!" Shadowman watched for any sign of wavering, but the man was inscrutable.

            Shadowman sighed. "What will become of your mother, Wanderer? What if the business fails? She'll be left destitute, a widow, and in times like these.... What kind of a son would do that to his mother?"

            The man remained unaffected.

            "You're a hard one, Wanderer. Can't you see that if you really were what you thought you were, you'd be loving and kind, and not so intent upon pursuing your own fantastic ambitions? Don’t you care that you’re hurting those who love you? If you knew anything at all about love you'd stop this nonsense, for the sake of those who love you and are worried about you. Do you hear me?"

            The Wanderer continued on his course. The shadow halted in the middle of an arroyo.

~

            "My, my, my! Just look at you! You're wasting away to nothing!"

            The setting sun cast a pinkish glow on the undersides of the clouds. The man had watched from the craggy summit of a small mountain as the shadowy figure climbed toward him.

            "Your health will surely suffer from this abuse, you know. You can't deny your bodily needs for such an extended period of time without sustaining some damage." He scrutinized the man. "Aren't you going to ask me where I've been?" He watched keenly for a reaction. "And then I'm to answer 'Roaming to and fro on the earth,' something like that, remember?"

            The man shifted his gaze back to the sunset. "Since you bring that episode up, do you remember how steadfast Job was?"

            Shadowman changed the subject. "So you’re determined to persist? Very well, consider this: You're throwing away a perfectly good life. Depriving yourself of friends, fun and raising a family, owning a home and business, being useful to your community—perhaps even becoming a leader in your religion. You have the aptitude for it, you know. Do you really want to throw all that away by persisting in this delusion that you are what even your religion’s scholars declare  an impossibility? Now look, I know you, and that you're not a fanatic, nor lunatic, so why do you carry on this charade? The last three weeks have not only been a drain on you physically, but they're three weeks lost from your life. You're only flesh and blood. You can never get those three weeks back. Don't you know how finite man's days are? If I were confined to such a short life span I wouldn't waste a minute. This is unnatural. How can you expect anyone to follow you if you don't share the same desires they do? Surely you see the logic in that? No one wants to follow an inhuman leader. Natural desires are a part of the human experience, so why don't you stop this absurd behavior and start living?"

            The sun sank below the horizon, yet the man's gaze stayed on the horizon.

            "You'll never be understood, much less followed. Give it up while you still have your reputation. It’s a useless cause, believe me, I know. Even if you really were what you presume, people are content as they are. Oh, they make a lot of noise about changing, but when given the opportunity they always choose convenience and comfort. They won’t even respect the pains you're taking now to prepare yourself to rescue them."

            The man closed his eyes, listening to an inner voice.

            "Okay, so you set them a good example and all that. Since you cannot really be what you think, who will notice or care? No one! Except those whom you've already hurt deeply.

“Did I mention that your family is concerned about your mental state? Oh yes, they are. Rumor has it you've lost your mind. I wonder where such a nasty little rumor got started? If you don't quit this fasting and go home soon, I'm afraid you'll have quite the opposite reputation someone with your aspirations and goals needs."

            The wanderer turned his head and looked sharply at the Shadowman. "And of what benefit was your reputation? Better to be of no reputation and please God, than have great power and reputation, yet displease God."

            For the first time Shadowman broke off the conversation and departed.

~

            "What are you trying to do, Wanderer, starve, or bake yourself to death? If you remain out here much longer, that's all you'll accomplish."

For the past two hours Shadowman had squatted in the shade, pleased with himself at having beaten the man to the vicinity’s only protection from the hammering rays of the sun. He knew the man wouldn’t deign to ask anything of him—not even to share the shade. "It's hot today, isn't it? Too hot for mere flesh and blood to wander these forsaken barrens. And the sun isn’t even at zenith yet, imagine! I wonder just how hot its going to get? I don't think there's any water within miles, either. I was wondering, don't you mind the heat?"

            The man sat, leaning against a rock, holding his garment out over his head with elbows propped on upraised knees. Sweat trickled down his face. No breeze stirred. For the most part he ignored the shadow squatting greedily nearby. He would have walked away to find another shady place, but it had suddenly become too hot even to walk. Besides, Shadowman would only take any other shade he might find. He wasn't unaware of his enemy's tactics.

            "I'll bet this is the hottest day yet in the five weeks you've been out here. Do you enjoy punishing yourself? We have a name for that you know, in fact, I have legions that specialize in afflicting such behavior on people. I must say though, they could learn a few things from you. Are you sure you know which side you're on?"

            The man ignored the chatty pest.

            "Hmmm, stubborn too. Say, I have an idea. I don't take up much room, why don't you come and share 'my territory'. Can't we both occupy this place without quarrelling?"  I know we have our differences, but, is there no room for tolerance in your heart?"

            The man didn’t miss the subtle implication. "That which is already mine I’ll not share with a usurper."

            "Ooh, selfish and insulting too! Very well, you're the one in the bright light. If you don't want me to share my shadows with you, I'll just keep them all to myself. Can't say I didn't try."

            Looking steadily at the dark shape the man declared, "I AM the light; whereas outer darkness—and all its torments—is all that rightfully belongs to you."

Shadowman dropped his veneer of civility, rose up in indignation and left. The man considered for a moment, then occupied the shade.

~

            "Surprise, it's me again." Shadowman returned after only a few hours. "I, uh, had to hurry off earlier. Some important business demanded my immediate attention. Couldn't trust it to subordinates. You know how untrustworthy underlings can sometimes be."

            The wanderer sat close to a fire, trying to get warm. A stiff, chill breeze was blowing a stream of sparks and smoke horizontally, rendering the fire ineffective for warmth.

            "Who'd have thought it would be this cold tonight, especially after such a hot afternoon. If I'd had any real power, I'd have done something about that, wouldn't you?"

            "I did."

            "Ah, yes. Point taken. Though you do realize, I meant something... else. Take for instance, this sudden turn-around in the weather. I can see how uncomfortable you are. Why don't you, if you really can, make the wind and cold stop? I mean, seeing that you obviously believe you’re something more than just human, why not use some of your supposed power? After all, what's the point of having power if you don't use it?"

            "The power that is mine, and the decision to use it, I’ve lain aside for the time being," the wanderer replied.

            "Oh sure, that's just an easy way to avoid proving that you are what you claim. The fact is, you don’t use power because you have no power!"

            Looking directly into the sinister face confronting him, the wanderer answered:

                                    "The power I use,

                                    The time I choose,

                                    When you lose,

                                    Will birth good news."

            "A riddle?" Shadowman sat back in mock surprise. "You answer a legitimate challenge with a riddle? Now just what is that supposed to mean? Do you, or do you not have the power to turn this wind? Answer me straight now, no riddles."

            "You are very proud, Shadowman, of what you think you know, yet you cannot solve this simple riddle? Where is your power?"

            Again the phantom rose from his seat. "Like I thought, you're hiding behind your riddles, which shows me that you have no authority in my realm, real or borrowed. If you really were what you want me to believe you are, you'd declare yourself openly and not slink around the wastelands posing riddles."

            "The time of my declaration will come, and then, Shadowman, I warrant you'll see more of my power and authority than you desire."

            "Well let me declare power and authority to you in the present, riddle-maker! Behold my powers…" As he spoke, the wind rose to a howling pitch. A sudden shrieking blast scattered the burning wood across the desert night in a blaze of dying sparks. Not one hot coal remained in the fire-ring. As suddenly as the wind had arisen, it ceased.

"Who do you suppose made it so hot today that your tongue swelled from thirst and your skin blistered? And who do you suppose made the night wind sweep down from the snow-covered mountains to numb your fingers and toes? I did! And all that was but a sample of my abilities. Is that not authority? Is that not power? Unless you can deliver some of that, don't pretend to fool yourself, let alone me."

            The man drew his garments tightly about him. "My weakness will topple you when you are at your height of strength."

            Shadowman opened and closed his mouth several times. When he finally managed to say something, it was in mockery, but the wanderer noted the rage and fear behind the taunt. "Well, I'd like to see that." Shadowman turned and hurried away.

~

            The spy hesitantly approached the master as the latter busily issued orders to various squadron leaders. Ever since his attempts to thwart the Wanderer in the desert had proven unsuccessful, the master was angrier than usual. How would he react to this news?

            "Sir?"

            All the master had to do was look, and he knew the message the spy bore. "He's finished then, is he? Of course, I should have known. Forty days. Tell me."

            "He returned to where he first entered the desert and lifted a rock from atop a hole. In the hole there was a jar of anointing oil, grooming articles, and a change of garments. He bathed, washing the desert dust off himself in a pool from yesterday's downpours."

            "Has he taken any food yet?" The master was urgent.

            "Not up till I left him a moment ago."

            The master was gone in a flash.

~

            "So Wanderer, you've cut your purge short, I see." Shadowman had suddenly appeared at the man's side, stepping stride for stride with him. "What was it? The hunger? Moses was famished after his first forty day fast. How his face did shine." He made an obvious gesture of examining the Wanderer's face for evidence of glowing. "As I recall, Moses fasted another forty days on top of the first fast. Of course, I can understand you not being empowered like Moses, not going the eighty days."

            The man kept walking, eyes straight ahead.

            "Hush! Do you hear something? Now what could that be? Is your stomach telling you something? Listen... there it is again. Sure sounds like hunger to me. I bet you're thinking of something delicious right this minute. Ahh, but after such a long fast, you'll require simple fare, won't you. Nothing too strong, or sweet, or spicy. Something plain and bland, like... bread. Now there's a fine staple to break fast with."

            The man kept steadily on.

            "Why are you going this direction? It’s a good many miles from here to anywhere this direction. No shops along the way, no houses; you won't be able to beg or buy bread anywhere along this course for at least twenty miles. Such a long journey, and in your condition?"

            The wanderer's pace never slackened.

            "Or... are you ending your fast because you did get some power after all? Well, if that's true, maybe I'd believe it if you showed me. If you are the Son of God, "the shadow darted directly in front of the wanderer pointing to a few flat, palm-sized rocks on the ground "…turn those stones into bread."

            The man's stomach growled again and Shadowman smiled. "A stomach so long unused is painful when it awakens, is it not?"

            Drawing a breath, the man replied, "The written word declares that man isn’t sustained by what he eats, but rather, by taking into him every word from God's mouth." Stepping around the obstructive pest, the man resumed his journey.

            "Wait!" Shadowman roared. A whirlwind swept the wanderer off his feet, spiraling him up into the sky. The Shadowman continued, "I'm not through with you!"

            Within seconds the man found himself precariously balancing upon the highest ledge of the Temple over the precincts of the holy city.

            "So, you choose to respond from holy writ? Well, I know the writings too. Do you recognize this place? Good. What better place to declare yourself to the nation than right here? I'm offering you the opportunity to do that and settle all question. Just step off the ledge. Imagine the delight of the faithful awaiting the Anointed One when they see you floating down on the hands of angels. You're not afraid are you? Don't you believe what's written in your precious scroll: 'His angels are commanded to guard him, lifting him up so not even his feet should strike a stone too hard,'? If you really are the Anointed One, prove it. Throw yourself off this ledge. They'll see their deliverer, borne up by God's own angels. You can avoid the tiresome chore of proving yourself by this one, simple act."

            "Do you not wrest holy words from their true meaning, for it is also written: 'Do not challenge God by foolishly testing Him'."

            "Come," snarled the phantom, whisking the man away with another gust of wind.

            The man found himself on the heights of a great mountain. Snow lay in patches on the ground, and high overhead and all around great, dark storm clouds tumbled over each other. The wind tore at his clothing while whipping snow and rain mixed around him. Booming thunder and lightning illuminated the very rocks they stood upon.

            "So you cling to your belief. All right! I know Who You are. I just wanted to make sure You really knew too. I also know why You've come, though it baffles me that you'd come as one of them! Did You think I'd not see through Your disguise?"

            The man calmly stared at his opponent.

            "Look, you don't know just how secure I am here. If worse comes to worse, I very much doubt you'll be able to dislodge us. Furthermore, you'll get no cooperation from even your own nation, let alone any other nations. You're facing a hopeless task. Once they find out what life with You is like, they'll forsake You. After all, I and my followers did, didn't we? Humans are just like us, willful, self-indulgent, power hungry, cruel, lazy, angry, frustrated. They much prefer us ruling them as opposed to You and your Father. They’ve ‘mutated’ from their original design. Even You can't make them be what they have no desire to be. Besides, I'll fight You every inch of the way; the destruction will be horrendous. There'll be nothing left worth ruling over when I'm finished. You know I'm capable of doing what I threaten. If You get any followers, I'll smash them before they get started. You'll have gone through all this frustrating agony for nothing.

            "But," Shadowman changed his ranting to one of reason, "I can spare You all that grief. Behold..."

            The swirling clouds parted and a vision appeared against the backdrop of the sky: many peoples, cultures, cities, militaries, arts, victories, wealth, wisdom, knowledge, craftsmanship, technology—all that was beautiful and beneficial in the present age and the ages to come.

            "All this is mine. The kings and queens, the masses, the policy makers, and enforcers. I own them. They were given to me. True, I used a little chicanery, a little falsehood, but they wanted to give in to me, else I wouldn't have won so easily. They're all unquestionably mine. Aren't they beautiful? That's what You came to reclaim, is it not? If I resist, all of that will become rubble, worthless to You or me. Think of the misery and carnage... It's in Your power to prevent their suffering. I'll not fight, but will leave peaceably. I'll give them to You as a coronation present. I'll banish myself and my hordes to wherever You say. I'll never challenge Your reign again."

            The scenes of the world's beauty and glory faded. The master stood robed in royal garb, bejeweled as a monarch, a cruel but knowing expression on his face. "I'll relinquish all my holdings to You if this once, You bow down to me and pay me the homage due one of my power and position."

            The wind stopped, the clouds ceased whirling, the very mountain hushed, waiting to hear the man's answer.

Trembling at Shadowman's audacity, the Wanderer commanded, "Away from Me, Accuser! It is written: You shall only worship the Lord your God. Him only shall you obey!"

            The phantom was swept over the precipice; the clouds parted, and rays of light danced around the man.

                                                                        ~

            A little more than three years later

The orders were given; all personnel were required. All other programs and projects would go unsupervised for the time being. Everyone was needed for this massive attack.

            "He's proven slippery as a fish, coming and going as He likes, but no matter. We have one of His inner circle ready to betray His hideout to our officials. I'll personally see to it that the man of Kerioth completes his assignment. What about the political ruler? Is he sufficiently under our control?"

            "He's due back tomorrow."

            "Make sure you get to him and prejudice him. Maybe even use the governor's wife to make sure the message gets through, you know, the way we've given her messages before?

            "You, Rabble-rouser, is your legion ready to assemble the blood-thirsty masses to call for His death when the moment comes? Good! All right now, everyone pay close attention."

            The battalion leaders ceased all hubbub.

            The master continued. "All we needed was one slip-up, one mistake, and when He failed to take advantage of the situation on the first day of the week, He gave us our chance. For some reason He insists on keeping a low profile, waiting, I assume, a more advantageous time. Well, He's waited too long; now we have a traitor in His inner circle; and we have the government and the religious leaders worried about the stir He caused with that parade. He missed His first chance and we'll not let Him get another. Tonight in the hours of darkness we make our move. Like I said, I myself will see to it that the traitor does his job. You all know your assignments. We must not miss this chance, it may be our last."

            "What if... things don't go exactly as planned?" a subordinate asked.

            "How else can they go? Once he's condemned to death, He'll be forced to act. He'll have no choice but to begin the destruction—beginning with those He thought would follow Him." A wicked laugh cackled from the gathering. " ‘My weakness will topple you when you are at your height of strength, ' did He say? Well, we’ll see. I'll have Him backed into such a tight corner that He'll have to use His powers to destroy the very ones He came to rescue. I won't be the one to begin the destruction, He'll be forced to do it Himself. That's why it's imperative that no one miss their timing. First, when He goes to the garden we'll all attack Him at once, besetting Him with every doubt, every wicked thought imaginable. While He's still reeling from that mental assault, He'll be betrayed for money by one of His trusted friends. That'll add to His discouragement.

“Then a sham trial by His own people—be sure only those under our influence are in attendance, otherwise a debate may arise. You know how those people love to debate, and if that starts, we could miss our timing. So keep all those sympathetic to Him away, understand?

            "Next, the provincial government will set aside their feeble notions of justice so that the order of execution can be given. Be prepared to use that antiquated tradition of switching a condemned prisoner if it becomes necessary.

            "Any time after that, get set to watch the fun as He reacts defensively and destroys them. I wonder how He'll do it.... Oh, and one more thing... at the arrest site, make sure none of His followers remain loyal to encourage Him. Either scare them away or have them killed. He must lose those that are closest to Him. His whole invasion of our domain will have been for naught. Did He really think to conquer us single-handedly? He'll have to destroy the whole world to protect Himself. It's almost time; to your assignments."

~

            On the second floor of a small building on a back street a group of men reclined at the prescribed festal meal. At the moment, however, no one was eating; their leader had just made a startling pronouncement and they were trying to grasp its implications.

            "But Master, how can we know the way?" the one nicknamed 'Twin' asked.

            The leader answered, but they still didn't comprehend. They asked more questions, but grew more confused at His answers because they didn't want it to mean what it sounded like.

            "When I'm no longer with you, I'll arrange for the Counselor to come to you and be your comfort in my place. The world knows nothing of Him, but you have seen Him at work in Me, and He will be in you! You'll not be left undefended. Then you'll be able to comprehend these hard sayings. Whoever loves Me will be loved by My Father, and of course, I will love him too, and will reveal myself—Who I AM—to such a one."

            "What? Only to us? You're not going to declare Yourself to the whole world? Haven't You come to claim the world?" another asked, startled out of yet another misconception.

            "If you love Me, you'll obey Me, if you don't love Me, you won't obey Me. That is how I will tell those who truly love Me from those who merely use my name. The Counselor will make all this clear when He comes. I now give you my peace—not the world's vain form of peace, but the true peace only I can give. The events about to happen will threaten your faith. Don't allow it to be stolen from you, remember what I've told you.

“You should be glad that I’m going away, for I re-enter the joyous presence of My Father. I'm telling you this before it happens, so that when it does, you won't be severely shaken, but will know I knew it was coming and spoke truly. Find your confidence in that.

            "I have not much more time to speak to you, for the prince of this world is coming to beset me one final time, but he has no power over me. What's about to happen must happen so the world will know that I do this because of my love for My Father, and this is what He has commanded, because He loves you.

            "Arise now, it is time to bring an end, and make a beginning."

                        NONE OF THE RULERS OF THIS AGE UNDERSTOOD

                        IT; FOR IF THEY HAD, THEY WOULD NOT HAVE

                        CRUCIFIED THE LORD OF GLORY.

                                                I Corinthians 2:8 NIV