Wind in the Hands (33 page)

“I know him. I have his photo,” and the Soldier had been handed a picture, confiscated from safety agents.

“This one doesn’t look like him. He has a beard up to his chest.”

Tensed silence hung in the air.

“The Stranger has cut his beard…” the Soldier felt danger.

“Why?” he was interrupted. “To disguise himself?”

“Exactly…” responded the Soldier and stopped short.

“Will the Stranger disguise himself? Hide himself? Be afraid? Who are you to insult the great prophet?”

The Soldier didn’t expect that these obedient and disposed people could turn into angry beasts in just a few seconds.

“The Stranger is my friend, we came into the City together,” said the Soldier as calm as possible, but only curses and swearing came down on him. He jumped aside, jerked the bolt.

“Stand still! Another step and I will shoot!” shouted the Soldier, but it was too late. He became weak in his knees, his palms covered with sticky sweat. He pulled himself together with great effort.

The crowd froze. The Soldier has already looked out for a place to retreat, but suddenly a short frail man showed up from nowhere. He stretched his hand up front, looking right into the eyes of the Soldier and started speaking:

“You are a son of death, slander and liar. I know the Stranger, and you don’t. I honor the Prince and you don’t. You threaten with your weapon, but the real weapon isn’t made by man. You want to kill us, but you will die instead. I don’t kill, your sins kill you.”

The Soldier unclasped his hands; the rifle fell on the pavement with a loud crash. Cold inhuman eyes were looking at him, the eyes that take life. He heard ringing, as if anvil started working in his mind. His heart beat fast but uneven. The Soldier felt with the rest of his conscience that he needs to wake up, come to himself, and throw off the nets. His heart began to wave like an autumn leaf in the strong, gusty wind. And he stopped hearing it. Everything around him span and mixed. Seized with deadly horror, he screamed, but nobody heard his scream, only the Stranger felt his heart squeezed by a bad foreboding. The Soldier fell down, hit his head over the stones and a small stain of blood flew out onto the pavement. The crowd with terror and excitement looked at the man who struck the slander with the power of his lips.

“I didn’t kill him, but his sins,” the man repeated in velvet voice and everybody around him started smiling. “He is a big sinner. Brothers, I am no one, but God works through me, I can direct sins of the person against him. And I have the news for the citizens of the City. The unseen Exterminators, spirits from the nethermost are bonded with the sons of men that opened them the door into our world. We have to find the betrayers. I ask you don’t kill them, for God is merciful. It’s easy to recognize them: they are aliens, they don’t have the stamp. Of course, not all of the citizens have a connection with the Exterminators, but we will be able to distinguish them. Well, devout citizens, find them all and bring them to me. Meeting is at the King’s square.”

Right then small units were arranged and sent out to search for aliens. The savior had been named as the Friend of the people.

The local television kept repeating shots of the victory of the frail man’s spiritual power over a big guy with a rifle. The Medium wept stormily. The Seer almost pierced the screen with his eyes. The appeal of the Friend to the citizens on TV has astounded him.

“Who is he?” the Medium asked. “What a terrifying look he has. What is he doing?”

“He is looking for someone,” the Seer walked around the room nervously. “He is also searching, but I am too weak and I can’t penetrate this secret.”

“Just a bit longer, and you will become like before,” the woman supported him.

“Who are you, the Friend of the people? They look at him in such an ecstasy! Like an obedient dog looking at its master,” spoke the Seer through clenched teeth.

“Do you think he is looking for the Stranger?”

“I didn’t say that… The Stranger rushed into the City. The power pulled him, it wanted to fight. This is the only weapon to fight against the Exterminators. Looks like they created obstacles on the path of the Stranger. Unfortunately, even through me. Probably, the Friend had been leading him from the very beginning, so that the Stranger would drive the exterminators away and would free place for him. Have you heard about the Friend before?”

“I have never heard about him, although he is much stronger than we are.”

“One can kill with hypnoses, especially after your opponent falls down on the stones,” the Seer was irritated. “Nothing unusual. Unless he used energy, power. It didn’t look like hypnoses from a detached view. It looked like God’s punishment in the eyes of the believers. Oh, the Soldier didn’t listen to me,” sighed the Seer heavily.

“What will the Stranger do now?” asked the Bird.

“This is a good question,” responded the Seer. “I think that he won’t pass it by like that. They are all searching for somebody. But who is he?”

Chapter 52. The Moon

He was sitting at the grave of the Hermit, upbraiding himself for the weakness. “Why have I retreated? Got scared of death? I don’t think so. I wasn’t ready to kill a man, but is the Enemy a human? I doubted my power, and the weak can’t win, that’s why the Voice told me to retreat. Did he save me?”

The Stranger came up to a lonely woman standing aside, the one who had called him brother before.

“What’s your name?”

“Moon,” responded the woman and smiled, showing a row of white teeth.

“Does everyone who comes here hear the Voice?”

“There are other sheep that we need to bring…”

“How will you recognize the Prince?”

“What kinds of slaves don’t know their master in face?”

“The prophesies say that he will come in power and glory. Won’t he?” the Stranger gave a light smile.

“He will come now for those who are chosen. He will warn and prepare them. The terms don’t depend on the time but on the circumstances.”

“A dozen of those who are called… that’s not too much,” the Stranger looked around, pointing with his eyes to the people sitting around the fire.

“There isn’t ever too much of our own people. But have they all come? They are on their way. Somebody comes every time. We believe that the Prince will come here as well.”

“I hope so, because the Enemy has come into the City. He called himself the Prince,” said the Stranger gloomily.

“The Enemy? Here? Are you not mistaking?” blue eyes of the woman narrowed with unbelief.

“I talked with him. Do you remember?

And when the water recedes,

The shore will show up and open the Hero!

The shore will show up and open the Enemy.

And again, there will be two of them left.”

“We need to find the Hero, before the Enemy finds us, for he can destroy the chosen once as the prophesy says.”

“Don’t worry. He is nothing before the Prince:

Here the Enemy is again before me,

A subtle, ancient spectacular.

He has left traces when I came back home.

But he, the one who gave me the path – the Lord

of heaven and the earth.

A star drops its life to a star,

And he calculates his murder.

His shining black cloak

Has plunged the forest into rigor roughly.

But he is nothing before me,

Shameful timorous in the middle of the circle…

The Enemy will come here before the Prince. He is always one step ahead. You have to leave. You can’t keep all the eggs in one basket,” warned the Stranger.

“The Enemy will be stopped, but we have to hurry. The Divine Voice hasn’t called us here to destroy.”

“If it only was divine…” the Stranger mumbled.

“Find the Prince. They will not leave the ruins,” the Moon has looked at her friends, with faces shining with joy, in fear and even despair.

“You, visionaries! Show us where to search for him?”

“The Prince is a secret. There are hints in the prophecies, but they can be understood by those who are destined. You are one of them, but you have too many doubts.”

“The one who doesn’t doubt doesn’t search,” responded the Stranger.

“Let’s not argue,” said the woman meekly. “Do you remember the ancient image of the Prince?”

“We know what the Prince looked like, but is he still the same now?”

“His image has come to our days so that we would be able to recognize him. God has a reason for everything.”

“We don’t know in which body he will come. The Prince can come in a different guise, let’s say because he doesn’t want to be recognized. Are you looking with the eyes of your flash and not the eyes of your heart? I even suppose that the Prince can be a different personality.”

“How is a different personality?” amazed the Moon.

“Why not to suppose that God will send another man who will act in one spirit with the Prince?”

“It’s hard for me to believe this. The Prince is one and he is the only one who has the power.”

“Does he need power?”

“Dreaming up is not forbidden,” the woman smiled leniently.

“Why dreaming up? Hasn’t the Prince said: “I will leave you but there will come a time and I will send a Comforter, who will witness the truth just like you?”

“The Comforter is not the Spirit? This is not about a man.”

“The Spirit acts through chosen ones. He needs a carrier.”

The Moon wrinkled, nodded, but a lenient smile disappeared from her face.

“Hasn’t he said: The Prince is the only leader.”

“The Prince isn’t a name, but a destination, a title. Not many people called him this name when he was alive, and now everyone is calling him this name. I have a friend, his name is Soldier, but there are many people with such name…”

The Stranger started and turned pale.

“Has anything happened? Give me the hand that he shook with you,” asked the Moon and covered his palm with hers.

“He has been killed. The body of your friend is in the square,” she said quietly.

“Who did that?” asked the Stranger indistinctly.

“The Enemy.”

The Stranger stood up, straightened himself.

“I have to go.”

“Stay. It’s late. Night is coming. This is not our time.”

“My time is always.”

“Be careful. May God help you!”

She gave him a strong hug, setting her little nose against his chest. The Stranger gazed into her eyes, they seemed so dear at that moment that his heart was squeezed with tenderness and he hurried to the square to take the body of the Soldier whom he had brought into this town to die.

Chapter 53. The Prince

The Stranger has remembered the prophetical text of the manuscript that supposedly had been written a few years before the life of the Prince. “A man of perfect age. Two braids on his head, on the right and on the left side. His beard is thick, touched by white frost, the look from his deep eye-pits pierces deep into hearts, his bronze forehead is low but wide. The shoulders of a smith, but his back is round from our sins, his fingers are long and a ring of inheritance covers his finger.”

He meditated, “The signs suit the image of the Prince. Looks like the author saw him and that’s why he gave such a detailed description. But it’s not wise to rely on these signs now. It’s not too hard to grow long hair and beard. Besides, there are lots of people with long fingers and wide foreheads. I need to reject all the stereotypes, even the most authoritative once. God’s plan doesn’t fit any theories, conceptions or interpretations of men. Dogmas limit thoughts, preventing their development… The Hermit met with the ancient evil, the Enemy, the servant of the Adversary, who has made it his goal to harm any truth that leads even the chosen once astray.

The Seer is sure that the ancient have come up with some sort of mythical image in order to shift from the Creator any responsibility for injustice of the world. The world had been perfect but there came the Enemy and he spoiled everything.

Haven’t the ancient said: ‘Choose good, and you will live. Choose evil, and you will die.’ Will liver be able to bear too much alcohol? Don’t drugs ruin brain? We incur trouble ourselves by our irresponsible acts, but it’s not that simple. Since there is someone who gave us the laws of life, then there should be someone who doesn’t want us to follow them.

No matter where you are,

No matter what you do,

There is a war between the Earth and the Heaven!