A Espada de Deus

With a resigned sigh, he struggled to walk up the large stairs, pulling the hood over his head when he felt the first drops of the sulfurous rain. Beyond the porch, heavy smoky wooden doors blocked the way to the nave. He knocked, lightly at first, then furiously. He was almost quitting when he heard the creak of latches and a glimpse of a white and smooth face appeared behind a slit.

"We have already ended the works", said a young yet firm voice.

"I thought that the House of the Lord was always open to afflicted souls", retorted the visitor.

"What do you wish?", asked the youngster, not stepping aside.

"I need to confess", answered the stranger, steadily.

"The priest has already gone", said the boy, making as if to close the door.

"No. I must see the Master".

"Are you crazy? Why would he admit you?"

"Because I must confess to Him."

"A confession to the Master is not cheap."

"I know how much it costs. And I can afford it."

He took his hand into a pocket and took off some silver discs with encrustation of rubies and emeralds. The lad looked at them with disguised greed.

"Hey, why don't you come back tomorrow and talk to the priest on duty?"

"My sin can be confessed only to the Master."

The lad turned up his nose.

"If your sin is so grave that must be confessed to the Master, you are really a madman. You will be whipped on a public square and will rot in the chambers of dread, where the worms will slowly eat you alive."

"Maybe I earn absolution."

The lad grinned bitterly.

"Let me in", replied the visitor, allowing one of the smaller discs to slip to the other's hand. The boy looked vacillating for a moment, but kept the money, eyeing carefully around.

"I can't ensure you anything, but come in. I'm going to see if he is still awake.

He let the visitor pass and indicated a tray held by a faceless angel.

"Put the payment there. It is nine thousand."

The money chinked on the tray, echoing throughout the nave, illuminated by the faint light of dozens electrical candles.

"I know", said the man. "It is almost all I have."

"Who should I announce, if that makes any difference?"

"Gabriel."

Barely had the boy left, two indistinct figures moved in the shadows.

"Stay where you are!", ordered one of them.

"What?!"

"We detected an emanation of residual energy. What are you carrying there? A weapon?"

Gabriel laughed.

"A weapon in the House of the Lord? No, no, of course not!"

He made as if to take something from under the cloak, but immediately heard the cocking of a phase radiator. The stranger's arm came forth, but his face remained in the penumbra.

"Easy, easy!", replied Gabriel. He took off his cloak and hood very slowly and got, very carefully, a cylindrical container which he stretched to the guard.

"It's only my dinner pail. A small reactor to keep the food hot, you know? Do you want to taste it?"

He pressed a button and the lid opened spirally to reveal a bad smelling greenish mixture. The guard stepped back.

"It's soup", said Gabriel. "Good soup!"

"Keep your food", said the other man, a little further, and turning to his partner: "Let him pass."

Gabriel thanked him and walked bashfully between the rows of benches, regarding the stained-glass windows, dull in the rainy night. The knocking of the cane echoed and broke the silence. He turned back when he reached the altar, and saw no one. But he fell the eyes coming from the shadows.

"I know you are there", he murmured to himself. "You cannot deceive the old hunter."

Suddenly, a door came open beyond the altar, letting in a green light. Through the light, Gabriel, squinting, could distinguish the vague figure of the Master, who entered imposingly.

"Does my light daze you, poor sinner?", asked a deep and beautiful voice.

"Yes, My Lord", avowed Gabriel, humbly, falling on his knees.

"Follow me!", ordered the Master, guiding him through a door between two obsidian columns into a dark cubicle where the only furniture was a richly engraved chair with an upholstered seat.

Gabriel closed the door behind himself and knelt beside the chair, already occupied by the Master, whose light, which enveloped Him like a clothing, was the only one to illumine the room, except for an occasional thunderbolt that lightened the stained glass window, revealing the picture of angels with swords of fire punishing sinners.

"So, my son, what is your sin?", asked the Master, serenely.

Gabriel hesitated to answer:

"The worst of the sins: to kill, My Lord."

"And who have you killed?", the Master wanted to know.

"Nobody, o Divinity... Yet."

"But do you have a desire to kill?"

"No, I don't. But it is something that... I must do. There is someone I must kill. Or maybe not. I mean, it's someone who must die, but... might it behoove us, mere servants of God, to judge and execute?"

"Let me judge, then."

"I have always believed that every man had the right to life."

"Where have you heard such a foolishness?"

Gabriel's voice came out uncommonly low:

"In the Green Lands. I have lived there for some months. That was many years ago. But there was that man... His words... They keep echoing within my head. They don't leave me alone! I need to do something... Help me!"

"Who is this man?"

"A local leader. There are others like him."

"The Green Lands are barbarian lands. They are replete of fake prophets who only aim to inculcate feelings of hate against God and everything that is sacred. They are nothing more than a plague to be exterminated."

"So, are there men who must die?"

"Only those who follow the purposes of God and the Holy Church deserve to live. The blasphemers, the heretic, who not only are in sin, but also, with false words, take others to sin... Those must die."

"I don't understand. Is there no remission?"

"Remission is for those who follow the Holy Doctrine. The men whom you talk about were inseminated by the seed of Lucifer. Every false Messiah must respond to him."

"But do we have the right to kill?"

"If the death of a man is the salvation of many, make yourself the Sword of God and, in His Glory, drink the blood of the enemy and gain the Reign of the Heavens."

Gabriel looked thoroughly relieved:

"Oh! Thank you, Master! Thank you for having taking away this guilt from my conscience! Now I know what I must do. Finally I will find Peace."

He stood up, trembling, tears of joy reflecting the light that emanated from the Master. Gabriel had an impression of seeing a complacent smiling, but it was difficult to be sure.

"I will be the Sword of God!", he shouted, raising the cane.

On that moment, one of his thumbs slid to a hidden button and the lower extremity divided itself into eight parts that opened in angles of ninety degrees. An inner mechanism clicked and hummed, and suddenly the Master's green light seemed to flow into the cane, launching sparks and sizzling, while he trembled impotent on his throne. For a second, Gabriel saw the wrinkled face, the loose chin and the wide-open eyes in stupefaction of a defenseless old man. Gabriel turned the cane, placing the other tip against the Master's chest and moving his thumb onto another button. A steel blade projected straight through the heart, trespassing the back of the chair. The blood squirted on Gabriel's face and the blade separated into five, tearing muscles and cracking ribs.

Gabriel heard voices and hasty steps approaching. The victim had not have any time to cry, but perhaps the annulling of the force field had triggered an alarm. Leaving the cane behind, the killer leaped against the window, cutting himself in the splinters and falling from two meters high on his very firm legs that helped him to quickly disappear into the rainy darkness.