Prophets and Loss (A Johnny Ravine Mystery)

by Martin Roth

Gentle snow is falling as the holy man trudges to the summit of Prayer Mountain. Bishop Lee is old, and though he has made this journey many, many times - there was a time in his life when he came here every single morning - his ancient limbs are feeling the strain. His prayers nowadays always include a special entreaty: please God, if it is Your will, allow me just a little more time to commune with You up here.

  He pauses, as through the snow and the early-morning mist he sights one of the Centurions in training. This is the man known as Brother Half Angel. He has a sword raised above his head, and he is ducking and weaving, while slicing the weapon through the air, in rhythmic patterns that resemble some modern dance.

  Amazingly, he has stripped down to his trousers, and is bare-chested, despite the frigid mountain chill. Even more amazingly, Brother Half Angel has just one hand, and it is with this that he is swinging the heavy weapon.

  Bishop Lee continues his climb. He is well insulated against the weather, yet still his bones are starting to feel the cold. A further sign of increasing age. Towering pines are here, and high on one of these lives a steller’s sea eagle, a magnificent ebony-colored bird with a six-foot wing span which flies down from Russia every winter, and which lives on fish from the surrounding rivers.

  This whole mountain, near the border with North Korea, is sacred ground. Further down is the Sanctuary. Hundreds of church members arrive here daily - brought by shuttle bus from Seoul, the South Korean capital - for fasting and prayer. But fences and warning signs prevent them from climbing higher. And it is true that conditions here are dangerous. Many years ago a child was tragically killed, tumbling to her death down a steep precipice during a summer picnic.

  So this has become Bishop Lee’s private holy-ground. A place where he can feel close to God. And more recently it has become a training ground and spiritual retreat for the New Mercedarians, the military order that operates from this church.

  Now he spots another of the Centurions, Sister Sunhee Cho, dressed in a woolen track suit, jogging through the snow with her two wolfhounds, also headed for the summit. A plaster cast on one arm - the result of an injury sustained a few weeks ago during martial arts training - means she is unlikely to be ready for the next mission. She smiles and waves as she runs past.

  Then Bishop Lee himself smiles. For over by a modest clearing is the third Centurion, Brother Luiz Kim. He has stopped whatever training he was engaged in, and is watching Sister Sunhee with a wistful look on his face.

  The bishop knows that Brother Luiz has a secret crush on the beautiful Sister Sunhee, who, in turn, appears to disdain men. It is starting to cause some friction.

  Bishop Lee follows a ridge of rocks up the trail to his grotto, a confined cavern, like an underground catacomb, naturally carved into the mountain face, right near the summit. He enters and sits on a bamboo mat, and he begins to pray. He recites psalms. He praises God. He confesses his sins. He prays for the world. He asks for God’s direction for the church.

  And, as occasionally results, something strange happens. Although he has stopped moving, and though the temperature at the mountain summit is well below freezing, he is growing increasingly hot. This starts as a warm, prickly feeling, a kind of tingling in his limbs, as he launches into his prayers. But soon he can feel a sultry glow, like the embers of a charcoal blaze, radiating through his entire body. It is almost as if he is on fire. He feels as if he could readily join Brother Half Angel bare-chested in the snow.

  His prayers over, he stands. And with a spring in his step, his whole body feeling hot and fresh and renewed, he starts to make his way back down the mountain. Once again he sights Brother Half Angel, now dripping in perspiration. He walks over to him.

  “The time is drawing near,” he says. “God has a plan for you. Soon you will be going down from the mountain.”

  CHAPTER ONE

  Northern Mali