FIRE AND SWORD_V2
1/26/09
8:57 AM
Page 9
To Timothy, My Dear Son . . .
9
“Grace, peace, and mercy?” sneered a voice. “Is that really what he wrote, Beziel? How bitterly ironic!” They laughed. “If this is how the Most High pays off His greatest apostle, then what hope have any of them?” asked another. “First He takes his freedom—then He takes his head!” “Nero will make quick work of them all,” agreed the other. The angel watching vigil over Paul remained steadfast, but alert to the dark spirits who had been sent to harass Paul’s mind in his last days on earth. The angel watching Paul scratching away had been assigned to him from the very start—even before his conversion to the Lord’s side. And now, having followed Paul throughout his marvelous ministry around the Roman world, he would stand with him to his last breath at the end of a Roman blade. “You there, Serus,” said one of the spirits to Paul’s guardian. “Looks as if your assignment is nearly ended. How unfortunate that it ends so bloodily.” The demon looked at Paul with venom and added, “And not soon enough.” Serus ignored the two dark figures. “We shall report back to our master that Paul is writing his final letter,” said Garras, a spirit of despair who had been assigned to vex Paul’s mind. “Once this man is gone—along with Peter and the rest of them—the whole movement will lose its way. That is the way of humans!” “Humans, yes,” Serus said, unable to let the challenge go answered. “But that is not the way of the Most High.” “Yes, well, it is humans who are left to carry on the miserable work,” Garras snorted. “As soon as the leaders and the others who knew Jesus are gone, the movement will disappear like all things human.” Serus ignored them. “Let’s leave him to his wretched thoughts,” Beziel said. “Won’t be long until all that is left of him is a few pitiful letters!” Garras and Beziel laughed and vanished. Serus turned back to Paul, who continued to write. After a moment or two, Paul sat back and closed his eyes. They burned. His eyes had been a source of discomfort for years now, affecting not only his sight but his writing.