He was thirsty and wanted to find water, but when he tried to stand, he found he could not. He did not know if he had sustained an injury or if he was merely weary or bound by some unseen tether. So he lay and studied his surroundings. The room was dark, save for the red light that escaped the glowing fissures scattered along the walls. He wondered if he had discovered some great furnace in the depths of the earth. Time passed, and the heat became unbearable.
“Is there no relief?” he asked aloud, and the sound of his voice frightened him. It was weak, and his throat was parched. “Can someone help me?” he demanded, but his words fell unheeded to the floor.
Frustrated, Thomas closed his eyes, and his mind began to drift. Where was he? How long had he been here? Where was his sense of time? Suddenly a dreadful thought entered his mind. Have I died? Am I in hell?
Minutes turned to hours, and hours stretched into ever-increasing misery. His throat burned as the heat around him intensified. His mind drifted to an old story he had heard of three men who had refused to obey a tyrant king. They had been thrown into a furnace, but they had fallen unharmed into the flames. When the king looked into that furnace, he saw four men walking about in the flames, and the fourth man looked divine.
As Thomas considered that ancient story, either his mind began to clear, or a light dawned upon his misery. Whichever it was, a pure, clear light began to fill the vault in which he lay.
He could see no figure, for the light was as bright as the sun: powerful, but not dreadful. He felt drawn to the light like a moth to a flame. Reaching out, Thomas sought to touch the light, and someone gripped his outstretched hand. He felt a warm strength flow through his body. The light pushed all darkness aside, in the vault and within Thomas as well.
For the first time, Thomas saw countless men and women chained to the walls of what could only be described as a huge dungeon. The prisoners writhed in their bonds, taking no notice of Thomas or the light.
He saw too what appeared to be a jailer garbed in hideous attire. This “monster” looked like a serpent, yet he walked like a man. Thomas watched as the jailer released a man from his fetters. Sensing his freedom, the man bolted with such agility that he had covered nearly thirty paces before the jailer’s tail whipped out like a coiled rope and grabbed the man’s feet, making him fall.
Thomas was surprised when he heard the jailer speak. Not only had the light given him eyes to see but ears to hear as well.
“Ha!” laughed the jailer. “You thought you could escape? Where would you go?”
Thomas grew impatient, but he had no strength to move. He turned again to the light, but it was gone! He felt a reassuring warmth flow through his fingers, and he could still see through the darkness. Examining his fist, he felt a strange excitement, for it glowed—not from without, like a candle, but from within. Opening his fingers, he found a tiny silver key with raised letters on its handle spelling the word FAITH. Turning the key over, he found that the letters had imprinted themselves in his palm. The imprint did not hurt, but it would not rub off.
Thomas watched the hideous jailer drag one prisoner after another from their bonds to a distant door. Behind that portal raged a fiery furnace from which heat poured into the dungeon.
“Wait,” Thomas called, but his voice was feeble, and the jailer took no notice.
Looking once again at the tiny key in his hand, Thomas asked aloud, “I wonder what this key is for?”
“I’ll take it for you,” a voice said, startling Thomas. Looking up, he saw a kindly old gentleman standing before him. The man was garbed in white, complete with tunic, turban, and sandals.
The old man’s voice was gentle and comforting. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
Thomas was stunned. “You’ve been waiting for me?” he asked.
“Yes,” the man answered. “I knew you would receive my key. It was taken from me long ago, and now, if you please, I would very much like to have it back.”
Thomas closed his fingers tightly around the tiny key. “What key?” he asked.
“Don’t tire me, boy,” the old man said, clearly trying to remain calm. “I want the key. I saw him place that key in your hand.”
“You saw whom? I didn’t see anyone,” Thomas responded truthfully. “Besides, what business is it of yours what another may bequeath?”
The old man’s features twisted with rage. “It’s my key, I tell you! Give it to me at once!” He raised his hand to strike Thomas, but suddenly he wavered and backed away.
Thomas discovered a sword at his side. Feeling a sudden inner strength, he drew the blade and rose to his feet, facing the old man. The key still glowed in his left hand while his right held the sword. “A light has come into the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it,” Thomas shouted.
The old man turned to flee, but he shouted over his shoulder, “The key is mine! I’ll get it yet!”
Sheathing his blade, Thomas turned his attention to the key. A single silver chain ran through its handle. Looping the chain over his head, the key fell warm against his chest, filling his whole body with power and courage. What the key meant, why it had been entrusted to him, or why the old man laid claim to it, he did not know.
His thoughts were interrupted by a scream. Looking about, he saw a woman in the clutches of the serpent jailer. Though she fought and struggled, the jailer continued to drag her toward the flaming door.
“Halt!” Thomas’s voice boomed, and the prison wall shook. This time the serpent turned to eye him closely.
“Who troubles my labor?” the creature asked.
“Vile creature, what are you doing with the girl?” Thomas asked. “She has no desire to go where you are taking her.”
“This is not your business,” the creature said, and he turned to go.
“Stay,” Thomas commanded as he drew his blade. The serpent heeded the command but showed no fear of the sword. “The lady has no desire for the flames. Why should she go there?”
“You are in a realm that is not yours to command,” the serpent growled. “Those who have fallen into darkness will weep and gnash their teeth. Do you not hear the sound of their cries?”
Thomas stilled his thoughts and listened intently. Indeed, the whole cavity was filled with the soft sounds of men and women weeping. They gnawed their tongues, grieving over past sins and shortcomings, so wrapped up in their own remorse that they could not perceive one another.
“Yonder,” the serpent hissed, “are those who torment the unforgiving.”
“Then hold yet a minute,” Thomas said. Turning to the weeping woman, he spoke softly. “Daughter,” he said. It took some moments, but her weeping subsided. “Do you believe in Jesus?”
First the woman looked at her jailer, who stood resolute and unmoving. He still held her firmly in his strong hands. Then she looked at Thomas. There was fear in her eyes, but she nodded dumbly.
“Why do you fear answering, my lady?” Thomas asked gently.
The woman took courage and found her voice. “I think I believed once, but life has treated me cruelly. I cannot forgive those who …” Her voice trailed away.
Thomas tried to reach for her, but the serpent barred his way. “Our heavenly Father knows and understands,” Thomas said to the woman. “He has felt every wound and sorrow that has come your way.”
A look of wonder crossed the woman’s face. “But I have no forgiveness in my heart, and when I could not forgive, I found myself in this dreadful place. I do not know how to escape.”
Thomas asked, “Do you believe Jesus died for your sins?”
“Yes,” she answered.
“Do you believe He loves you?”
The woman hesitated. “I used to think so. But I have been so wicked; I don’t see how He could love me now. Daily I’m reminded of my sins. It is written on the food. It is whispered in the air until I think I may scre
am. But I cannot speak to the Lord. Jesus is pure; He could not listen to a sinner like me.”
“Jesus is pure,” Thomas said. “But this is love: not that we loved Him, but that He first loved us and gave His life for us!”
A great surge of power flowed through the girl, shocking her captor and causing him to release his grip.
Thomas continued. “Jesus is faithful, even when we are not. If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us. He does not wait until we are holy to listen to our cry. The only acceptable sacrifice to God is a broken and contrite heart. Release your bitterness and let Jesus’s love flow through you. You need not remain in this dungeon.”
At these words, the jailer turned and fled. The woman stood alone before Thomas. Her hair was disheveled and her clothes were torn, but still he smiled upon her. She appeared shy, but she was the first to speak. “I know what you say is true, for it is written in the Book, but I do not know how to reach out and take it for myself.”
Thomas remembered the key around his neck. He withdrew the tiny key, and its radiance filled the vault with shimmering light.
She gasped at its splendor. “What is it?” she asked.
“A token of the faith our Father has given you! Stretch forth your hand and touch the gift of God, for by faith you have been set free.”
With trembling fingers, she reached toward the shining object in Thomas’s hand. “Are you sure it is all right?” she asked.
“It is freely given to all who believe,” Thomas said.
The instant her fingers touched the tiny key, several things happened at once. The woman disappeared, and bells began to clamor in the darkness. Voices were shouting, “There has been an escape. Bar the exits! Check the halls!”
Stunned by the woman’s disappearance and the blur of activity, Thomas dropped the key back under his shirt collar and began his own search for the young maiden. He could not imagine where she had gone.
The jailer raced to Thomas. “Where is she?” he demanded. His eyes were full of venom. “You will tell me what you have done with her!”
“I don’t know where she is,” Thomas responded, “but if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”
The great viper began a slow, hypnotic dance, wrapping his snakelike tail in large coils around the room. His head swayed left and right. “You have a key, don’t you?” The serpent’s voice was low and menacing.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Thomas said. He had a growing suspicion that the jailer was stalling for time. Why did he need time? Was he setting a trap? Thomas felt the danger before it happened.
With a sudden sweep of his arm, Thomas drew his sword and leaped across the serpent’s coils. At the same moment, the serpent flung himself headlong into the exact position where Thomas had stood only a moment before. The move was so swift that he bowled down several grim creatures that had slipped up silently behind Thomas.
The blade in Thomas’s hand swept a deadly arc, rending the serpent asunder. With a vile scream, the great serpent lashed out at Thomas. Plowing into the earth at Thomas’s feet, he sent dirt flying in every direction.
Seizing the opportunity, Thomas ran to the nearest wall and found he could smash the chains of the bewildered prisoners. As the fetters fell from their limbs, something like scales fell from their eyes, and they perceived that their freedom was at hand.
A clamor of voices began calling, “Is there a way out? Show us the way.”
Thomas shouted, “Jesus is the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Him!”
The earth began to tremble, and the vault rippled like a wave upon the sea. All the powers of hell were shaken. With a roar, the entire structure began to collapse. In the bedlam, every captive was set free. A light broke through the darkness, revealing a stairway.
Thomas shouted over the confusion, “Walk in the light, for He is the light! Follow me!” Leaping up the stairs two at a time, he led a host of captives toward freedom. At the top of the stairs across a broad landing, a heavy iron door barred their escape. Thomas retrieved his key and found that it fit the lock perfectly.
The door swung open, and Thomas shouted, “Even the gates of hell shall not stand against faith in the Lord Jesus! Let us go onward and upward.”
A beautiful woman stepped near the door, crying most piteously. “Oh, please help me, my lord,” she said.
“What is it, lass?” Thomas asked, bending near her.
“I have lost something very precious to me. I think I have left it behind. Could you go back and look for it?” Her eyes were deeply beseeching, and her voice broke with emotion.
Bending still closer, Thomas spoke softly. “There is nothing of lasting value down there. Come away, and what you have lost will be replaced with something of far greater value.”
He was caught off guard. She grabbed for the key in his hand. “It’s mine!” The voice hardened, and her hand became thick and covered with scales.
Reeling in horror, Thomas beheld a terrible dragon where the woman had been. Its scales were plates of armor, and its breath was hot and foul. Spreading its massive body across the doorway, it roared, “The key is mine!” in a voice that rumbled like thunder.
“Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved!” Thomas shouted, drawing his sword. The dragon’s armor plates could not withstand the sword of truth. For the Word of God is living and active, sharper than a two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and spirit, of joints and marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart.
Thomas and the beast battled back and forth. In a burst of will, Thomas drove the demon to the very edge of a great precipice. With a final lunge, he drove this blade deep into the heart of his enemy, shouting, “Return to your master, the father of all lies!”
A terrifying screech filled the ruined chamber as the great beast tumbled over the edge and plummeted toward his destruction. The dragon’s massive tail unfurled, opening the exit but catching Thomas’s legs and hurling him into space.
“Save yourselves!” Thomas screamed as he fell past those on the stairs. Obeying his command, they raced up the stairs and plunged through the door into freedom.
After falling for what seemed an age, Thomas awoke to a world of decay. There was no light. His key was missing, and he could not move. He had no concept of how long he lay there until a strange glimmer of light flickered around him. As the light grew, two shadowy creatures came toward him, and when each had taken an arm, they lifted him from the mire.
Mathias gasped. They had entered a chamber so corrupt that even Seagood turned away. Rats swarmed over a massive pile of decaying human bodies.
Before Seagood could leave, Mathias caught his arm. “No!” he said. “We have to look! We can’t turn back now!”
Reluctantly the two men turned to the putrid pile of flesh. Scattering rats with their torch, they climbed into the pile. As they sank into the ooze, both men gagged.
Again Seagood turned to go, but Mathias called, “Wait! I saw something!”
In the faint torchlight, Seagood saw two eyes peering at him. Plowing through the bodies as if they were not there, he clambered to the top of the pile, Mathias right behind him.
Tears poured down their cheeks, and looking to heaven, they both gave thanks. Miracle of miracles, they had found Thomas.
CHAPTER 29
Escape
Wart peered into the dark hole long after his friends had passed from view. “What am I expecting anyway?” he chided himself. “Who knows how long this might take?”
He withdrew from the mouth of the cave and began to rub the horses. They ignored him and pulled greedily at the few coarse tufts of grass available. Their smooth coats felt good under his fingers, but he could see little point in rubbing them all day.
Leaving the horses, Wart decided to make a small pa
llet and get some sleep. Lying down, he twisted and turned, but sleep would not come.
Am I hungry? he wondered. Not really. What should I do?
Suddenly Wart heard laughter. Freezing in his tracks, he listened until he was satisfied that the voices were coming no closer, and then he decided he should check it out. Creeping toward the edge of their hidden camp, he was careful not to make a sound.
Peering cautiously over a large rock, he listened intently. Laughter came from the grove of trees where he and his friends had hidden upon their arrival. He couldn’t see anyone, but every so often, he heard snatches of conversation. He was surprised to understand most of the words. Indeed, the more he listened, the more he understood. Why, he thought, their language is only a variation of the one I grew up with.
Then another thought entered his mind. Were these people from Endor, or were they his own people? Should he reveal himself to them and hope they were friendly? No! Seagood would never approve. He decided he should stay and listen. He might learn something useful.
The longer Wart listened, the more he was convinced that the voices belonged to one man and one woman. A deep masculine voice would say something, and a soft feminine voice would giggle. Her words were often lost in the roar of the river.
Wart caught one phrase that sounded like, “Let’s warm up … celebration tonight.” followed by a giggle. The male voice said, “Hold still,” which was followed by another giggle. “Ouch!” was followed by more laughter.
Wart sighed. “I guess I’m not going to learn anything.” He pondered a bit and then brightened. “Wait! What’s this about a celebration? Maybe the guards won’t be so observant if there is a big party in town.” Encouraged, he returned his attention to the couple.
All was silent. Have I missed them? he wondered. Did they leave while I wasn’t watching? The sun crept higher in the sky. Suddenly Wart heard a man’s voice. “Hey! We’d better get going! The work crews will be coming soon!”
Wart wondered what he meant by “work crews.” He watched and listened. A tall man emerged from the trees, looked about, and beckoned. A young girl with disheveled hair and rumpled dress stepped out to join him. Their faces were quite rosy, and they bore very sheepish expressions. They slipped from the trees, scrambled to the top of the riverbank, and quickly climbed the pathway toward the city. They passed within twenty paces of Wart.
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