by Chuck Black
Tren turned up a corner of his mouth.
“Be careful. I’ll be back soon,” Validus said.
It didn’t take Validus long to reach headquarters, and he returned with a promise from Malak to assign one or two of his warriors permanently to Validus for the Carter mission. He had hoped for more, but it would have to do.
By the time he made it back to Chicago, Tren was positioned across the street from Emmanuel Church, where a steady stream of homeless people were entering the doors for a free meal.
“Any activity?” Validus asked.
Tren shook his head. “Martial arts instruction with Mr. Lee—did you know that Carter is practicing dodging bullets?” Tren interrupted himself.
Validus nodded. “Yes. Just what we need, a charge who thinks he can dodge bullets and tries to save people.”
Tren continued where he left off. “And now to the soup kitchen.”
Validus noticed the blue van and the two angels standing guard outside the church. Tren didn’t wait for his question.
“A college ministry team is here to help with the soup kitchen. The warriors are here to protect them. Sydney Carlyle is with them,” Tren added almost as an afterthought.
“What? How’s that possible?”
“I started working on it during my trips to Rivercrest. I think that Ruach Elohim is drawing her here, so everything fell into place with relative ease.”
Validus was pleased. “That’s great work, Tren. Where’s Carter?”
“He’s just gone in.”
“I know those warriors; they served under me. I’ll see if they know of any threats.”
Validus briefly met with the two warriors standing guard and didn’t like what he heard. He made his way back to Tren.
“A messenger was sent to tell their captain to double their normal escort. They expect trouble.” Validus turned to Tren. “If something goes down, the Fallen won’t hold back. I’ll join the warriors, and you get to Captain Linari for reinforce—”
Validus caught himself. He was giving orders. It was a hard habit to break.
Tren held up a hand. “Look, let’s not pretend, shall we? We are both here for a reason, and I am under no misconceptions that your tactical experience as a warrior far exceeds mine. Let’s just both do our jobs when it’s time to do our jobs. We’ll co-command this mission.”
Validus looked Tren in the eye and nodded. This was a high-caliber guardian.
Carter walked out of the church and down the street just minutes after he’d entered. Validus and Tren shared a look of confusion. Validus glanced back at the warriors standing guard at the front of the church.
“I’ll go with him,” Tren said. “You’d better stay with Carlyle until she’s safe. Looks like she may be more of the target tonight.”
But just as Tren readied to leave, Carter did an about-face and came back toward the church. As a matter of precaution, Validus and Tren materialized back into an apartment building across the street and continued their observations through the barred windows of one of the apartments. Carter walked directly to the same apartment building, climbed five steps, and sat down next to the iron rail, watching.
“If we only knew what he was thinking, it would make this mission a lot easier,” Tren whispered.
Validus gave the guardian a sideways glance.
“If you’re right and he truly can see us, then what’s to say he can’t hear us?”
They turned their attention back to Carter and to the church across the street. The two warriors escorting the mission team drew their swords as multiple Fallen began appearing. Validus drew his sword.
“I’ll see who Captain Lenari can spare for reinforcements,” Tren said then disappeared without another word.
Validus watched as the two warriors across the street prepared themselves for battle, standing back to back with swords ready. His heart quickened. He hoped Carter wouldn’t do anything foolish or Validus would have to engage in the battle with his fellow warriors.
Stay out of trouble just this once, he thought.
The group of visiting students filed out of the church and made their way to the van, and Validus saw Sydney Carlyle among them. Reverend Ray held the door open and took a moment to speak with the college ministry leader. Distant thunder echoed off the walls of the shops and apartments that lined the street.
That was when the Fallen attacked. The two warriors met them head on, each one slicing and countering the onslaught from the vicious dark warriors. Their movements were quick and powerful.
One of the Fallen jumped on top of the van and came down at a warrior from fifteen feet above, brandishing both a grisly sword and a handgun. The warrior made one quick slice that found its mark deep in his opponent’s chest, then turned, dodged two rounds, and used the brick wall of the church to launch himself at the Fallen attacking from above. His sword deflected another round before the two combatants collided midair and crashed to the ground in a fury of steel and blows. The other warrior caught a slice off his left shoulder, his red blood staining the blade of his ruthless opponent. Now wounded and facing two fierce attackers, his fate looked desperate.
Carter started to move toward the church, but Validus couldn’t tell if he was moving closer to see Sydney or if the fight between angels and Fallen was drawing him.
Until now, Validus had successfully kept his identity from the Fallen, but this was quickly developing into a situation that would be impossible to control. Validus waited until the last possible second to reveal himself, but now he could wait no more.
He burst through the wall from behind Carter and engaged the Fallen who was about to put one of the warriors down. He arrived just in time, and once the Fallen saw not only that they were outnumbered but that they faced Validus, they hesitated.
“Release Kalgonica!” one of the Fallen shouted.
Validus turned, searching, and his blood ran cold. He knew what the call meant, and it was the last thing he had expected.
He drew his short sword as one of the worst droxans he had ever seen came charging up the street, its mouth snarling, its blood-red eyes flashing. The other warriors were engaged with the Fallen, so he would have no help.
Facing a droxan alone was suicide, but there was no choice. His first strike would be the most important.
26
TWELVE LEGIONS
1 BC
The last beams of golden light receded behind the hills of Israel to close the day, initiating the gathering of the warriors. Ominous figures robed in warrior garb materialized through thick stone walls. The inner court of the temple filled with the great leaders of the mighty army of Elohim.
In their midst stood Michael, leader of the Warrior Order. Twice before Validus had seen Michael in the Middle Realm, once at the Battle of the Purge and again in the battle against the Prince of Persia to accomplish the foretelling of the coming Messiah. He knew that General Danick and Michael communicated often, but never had Michael directly addressed the Warrior Order on earth.
General Danick saw Validus enter and motioned for him to come. Dread was on the face of every commander in the court.
“What is happening, General?” Validus asked.
“Apollyon himself is vexing Herod. We haven’t yet discovered his scheme, but if Michael is here …”
He didn’t need to finish. Herod was as evil a king as Validus had ever seen, a willing, gleeful vessel of destruction. He needed little goading to accomplish the most heinous of evil crimes. Apollyon had sent the vilest of his demons to vex and influence the king, but now his own leathered hand was twisting the heart of an already twisted man.
Michael stood on the steps leading to the inner court, the Holy of Holies. He looked across the solemn assembly of primus and regional commanders. Every voice immediately fell silent.
“Whatever evil Apollyon is injecting into the heart of Herod, we must not be taken by surprise. There are no risks to weigh, no caution to consider.” Michael paused, searching the faces of
his men. His gaze fell on Validus, and Validus felt the fire in the archangel’s eyes burn into his soul. It was the remnant flame of being ever present with Elohim. “Apollyon will stop at nothing to destroy the child. We will protect Him no matter the cost. Is that clear?”
“Yes sir!” came the immediate and unanimous response from his warriors.
“The Magi were warned and have abandoned Herod, and even now, this very hour, Gabriel is speaking to the man Joseph. Before dawn, we expect the family to be away from the city. But there is no time to waste.” Michael looked to Danick as his wings morphed, spreading across the entire sweep of steps. “General Danick will prepare you for the war to come.”
For one moment, Michael stood silent and still, a symbol of the power of God. There was no hesitation in his way or in his thoughts. Validus locked the image in his mind of God’s first standing before the Holy of Holies, leading an army of righteous warriors against an army of vile evil. There was no greater battle than this.
Michael lifted his eyes to heaven, then exploded upward in a streak of silver.
Danick stepped up so all could see him. “How many legions of the Fallen have been called to the region?”
“Last count was four, sir,” Commander Kelandar replied.
“You can expect more. Commander Brandt will oversee the redeployment of our legions. All outlying primus commanders will report directly to him.”
Brandt stepped forward. “We have six legions in place now, three more being called from the eastern front, and three more on alert. I’ve got eyes on every Fallen legion in Europe, Asia, and Africa. If they move, we’ll know.”
Danick nodded. “Commanders, the eyes of all three realms are on the Christ-child, and there is no battle that has ever been fought that is as important as this one.” He scanned the faces of his ten primus commanders, who led the remaining thirty-eight legions of angel warriors in the Middle Realm. “The very eternal fate of humanity hangs in the balance. Make sure every single warrior understands what is at stake. This is why we are here. This is why we exist. This is why we fight!”
“For the glory of Elohim!” Brandt shouted, lifting his sword to heaven.
“For the glory of Elohim!” rang the chorus of mighty angels in reply as dozens of swords pierced the night sky.
But their rallying cry of courage was cut short.
A warrior fell from the sky. He hit fast and hard, crashing into the lower steps of the temple and up against the feet of Validus. Validus knelt down to help him, but there was no help to give. The warrior was bleeding from a dozen severe wounds. Validus knew that the gray of the night was hiding the worst of his condition. He marveled that the angel was still with them.
The commanders gathered around as Danick knelt beside Validus and gently turned the warrior onto his back. The warrior grabbed Danick’s arm, fighting off the dissolution for one message.
“Six legions coming … hidden … mountains to the east.”
“Hang on, warrior,” Danick said, placing his hand over the bloodied arm that reached for him.
The angel shook his head. “Save the child …”
He exhaled, and with his last breath he dissolved into a blue vapor that dissipated into the night air, swirling upward around the bent forms of Validus and Danick.
The general rose up. “Commander Brandt, call your legions. The war has begun. I want continual updates from every legion.”
In an instant the commanders of the Warrior Order dispersed to lead their men into combat. Before Danick began coordinating the hundreds of battles that were imminent, he turned and reached for Validus.
“Go with Commander Guilden. He is leading the Seventh Legion in defense of the family as they flee. Herod knows that the child is in Bethlehem, but that is all. They may have enough time to escape his search if there is no delay.”
“Yes sir,” Validus said, turning to go, but Danick would not let go of his arm.
“This is the lineage we have been fighting for and protecting for thousands of years, Validus. This is the very night for which we were called.”
Validus took in his general’s gaze. “I understand, sir. I will give my all.”
Danick’s eyes reddened. “I know you will, and if I could be there in your stead, I would be.”
Validus knew that to be as true as the rising of the sun.
By the time Validus and Commander Guilden reached the home of Joseph and Mary, the warriors were already under attack. The night filled with sounds of a desperate battle. All around the city, thousands of the Fallen began to descend and, along with them, Herod’s soldiers. To the west and to the east, Validus could see Brandt’s legions engaging Apollyon’s army.
Guilden’s exec, Captain Jarot, came to report.
“How close are Herod’s soldiers in their search for the child?” Guilden asked.
“It’s not a search, sir,” Captain Jarot said, his eyes pained with some horrid reality. “It’s a massacre. Herod is killing all of the young children here and in all surrounding regions. Unless we can get them out of the city now, the child won’t survive.”
Cries of great sorrow rose up from the streets to the north.
Guilden turned to Validus. “Brandt’s legions are providing flanking cover and attempting to cut off the support for the Fallen to the north. Most of my legion is giving direct protection to the family. Validus, take five hundred men to delay the Fallen that are protecting Herod’s soldiers while we cover the child’s escape.”
Jarot quickly dispatched the men with Validus to the north. Validus had never field commanded more than a century of angels, but he didn’t have time to protest.
When Validus and his warriors reached the line of the massacre, they faced thousands of demons advancing just ahead of the soldiers, giving cover to their pawns of evil. It was an ominous sight that would cause the mightiest of warriors to hesitate.
Through the dark line of Fallen, Validus saw one soldier strip a baby from the clutches of her mother and without a moment’s hesitation pierce his sword through the wailing child. The father attacked with a sickle, but an accompanying soldier struck him down too. The guardian of the child refused to abandon his charge, fighting like Validus had never seen any angel fight before. Surrounded by fifty relentless Fallen, his sword flew in a blur of unending cuts and slices, vanquishing dozens of demons to the Abyss.
The abject horror and despair of the massacre crushed Validus like a mountain of stone—but it also enraged him. The night filled with the despairing wails of mothers, the battle cries of angels and demons, and the clash of thousands of blades. As the lives of children were taken, their guardians disengaged from the fight to shelter the spirits of the children and take them to Paradise. And for the guardians who had fallen in battle and were sent to Mount Simcha, carriers took their children to Abraham’s bosom, the place of comfort.
“To battle!” Validus screamed above the noise of the fray.
Five hundred warriors rushed into the wall of razored, black-steel blades. There was no risk to weigh, no caution to consider.
The fight raged for hours, and though the guardians and the warriors fought in the valiancy of their call, they could not prevail against the Fallen. The soldiers of death kept coming, and so did the demons who protected them. Twice the angel forces were reinforced by warriors from flanking legions, but the Fallen were relentless, abandoning all reason in their pursuit of the Christ-child. Validus’s forces were pushed inch by inch by the Fallen to the southern borders of the city, all the while witnessing and hearing the murder of innocents—unable to save a single child.
Validus stood shoulder to shoulder with a thin line of a few dozen warriors at the road leading south out of the city. They had lost too many to hold the line, and the demons were on the verge of breaking through.
Validus looked behind him. In the distance he saw the young couple with the young Ben Elohim fleeing Bethlehem in the gray of the night. The demons surged and his men rallied, but he wondered ho
w long they could last. Their line now too thin to hold the waves of Fallen coming at them, Validus reached down into the bosom of his soul and found the strength for one last stand.
The warrior to his left fell and dissolved. The warrior to his right cried out in pain at the slice of a Fallen’s grisly blade across his chest. Validus tried to cover him, but four demons attacked at once, seeing his vulnerability. He deflected one blade, countered, and cut one demon down with his sword and another with his short blade. Two more filled their places. One powerful Fallen blasted his sword into Validus’s, causing him to stumble backward. He knew that if he lost his feet it would be over in an instant.
He glanced up and down the line and saw it collapsing.
“No!” he cried out. “God, save Your Son!”
The child was still within reach of the bloodthirsty soldiers and their demonic fury.
“Validas!”
The air filled with the warrior cry of a friend. From the southwest, the voices of 350 warriors filled the air. Persimus broke from the surrounding battles and joined with Validus and his men to hold the line.
“Here we will stand or die. We will not yield!” Validus cried out to rally the men.
Validus and his warriors made their final stand. The burden of command was heavy as he watched his men fight and fall. Many times at serious peril to himself he interceded and saved one of his warriors, but the Fallen kept coming.
Herod’s soldiers reached the road, swords and uniforms bloodstained, raptured by the evil of the night, but they could not move forward. The demons screamed at them to continue their slaughter to the south, but the line of angel warriors stood strong, and neither demon nor soldier went farther than Validus’s line.
By the break of dawn, it was over. Twelve legions of angel warriors had engaged Apollyon’s forces in the lands surrounding Bethlehem, and thousands had dissolved, both warriors and guardians alike. Validus and 48 warriors were all that remained in the city of Bethlehem after protecting the escape of Joseph, Mary, and the Christ-child.