Resurrection (Blood of the Lamb) (31 page)

“And I.” The villager who had so keenly taken up the cure. “Sister Maryam has saved my life.”

“I too stand up for our little Sister.” Dear old Hushai stepped from the shadows of the stage, prompting such an uproar of asides the old man could hardly be heard as he continued. “There is nothing but goodness and courage in her heart.”

“Hushai, please help Vanesse,” Maryam urged him. “She is but two steps to your left.” She watched as he shuffled forward, blind to Father Joshua's looming threat.

The Holy Father bellowed like a wounded boar and charged, knocking Hushai off his feet. “Ye serpents, ye generation of vipers, how can ye escape the damnation of hell? I condemn you all, followers of Lucifer—evil, dirty second-rate vermin. How dare you question the Apostles’ Rules? How dare you question me?”

Mother Lilith broke in. “Joshua, I think you—”

“You dare silence me, woman? Who are you? A vessel who produced this weak, disloyal son, that's all. I am the Holy Father. My word is law and I hereby condemn all the disbelievers in this room to burn forever in the fires of Hell.”

“You'll have to kill me first.” Lazarus's words sliced the air, creating a deadly hush as he launched himself up to his feet. He glanced at Maryam for one brief moment, before turning back to his father's wrath. “I denounce you as a liar, Father. Everything Sister Maryam says is true.”

“Lazarus, no!” Maryam frantically thrashed against her bindings as Mother Lilith raised the gun and stepped out from
behind the throne to take her aim. The sudden silence in the room was extraordinary.

“What are you waiting for?” Father Joshua prompted her. “Howl ye; for the day of the Lord is at hand…and I will punish the world for their evil, and the wicked for their iniquity; and I will cause the arrogancy of the proud to cease, and will lay low the haughtiness of the—”

“You speak of evil,” Mother Lilith overrode him, “and yet you deny the evil in yourself. You lied to me. You told me the Sisters offered themselves with willingness and joy.”

“And so they do, my dear. They literally throw themselves—”

“Not so. This very day Elizabeth has told me of her violation at your hands. And not just once, Joshua, but time and time again. You betray our Lord. You truly make me sick.”

Maryam could not believe what she was hearing. Mother Elizabeth had spoken out? She searched for her frantically in the crowd, but Father Joshua's hiss of anger drew her attention back as he snarled and launched himself across the stage toward his wife.

“Do as I order you and shoot the boy. I am your Lord.”

A skull-splitting gunshot rang out as Mother Lilith pulled the trigger. Father Joshua slowly crumpled to the floor.

“The Lord forgive me,” she wailed, turning now to Lazarus. “I've only ever done what I was told.” Again she raised the gun.

“Mother Lilith! Don't.”
She's going to shoot Lazarus right here in front of me
.

“Fear not. The form of this world is passing soon away.” She levelled the gun at Lazarus's chest and cocked the trigger. “Forgive me, Father, for my sins. I know not what I do.”

With this, she turned the gun upon herself and fired, straight into her heart.

There was stunned silence. Lazarus leapt to his mother's side, his hands slicking with her blood as he tried to stem the flow from the terrible wound in her chest. But there was to be no miraculous resurrection: Mother Lilith knew the workings of a human body too well to fail.

As the realisation that these events were real and not some pre-rehearsed act started to hit the congregation, Lazarus turned to Maryam.

“She's dead,” he said, his words triggering a wail from the Apostles and their families who occupied the nearest seats. Their distress flared like a newly lit wick, igniting a firestorm of screaming and shouting throughout the building, causing further panic and alarm as Lazarus crossed to his father, whose listless body lay in a pool of blood. “Father too.”

He ran over to Maryam then, his face whiter than the damning unstained sheet, and started to untie her right hand with fumbling fingers. Maryam shouted for Hushai to release Vanesse as well. One quick glance reassured her that the old man had succeeded in realigning Vanesse's jaw, but already a threatening phalanx of servers was storming the stage, Brother Luke spearheading the group as they formed a cordon around the two bodies and proceeded to haul them off, leaving behind two ragged trails of blood.

As soon as Lazarus had freed Maryam's right hand she tackled the bindings of the left, realising he was fast closing down with shock. His speed and dexterity were gone, his eyes
glazed and uncomprehending as she broke free and scooped up the discarded scarlet fabric to shield her nakedness before tightly wrapping her arms around him to try to keep him tethered to the real world.

“I'm so sorry, Laz, this isn't what I wished at all.” She pressed her cheek against his bony chest, and felt his heart pounding so fast and erratically she worried it would do him harm.

He said nothing in reply, just stood there stiffly in her arms, staring over her head toward the darkening smears of blood as, beyond the stage, hysteria erupted on a deafening scale. The people of Onewēre wept openly and wailed wretched lamentations as news spread that they'd lost their Holy Father. The white Apostles and their families huddled together, many of them whispering and eyeing angrily those still milling on the stage.

From her raised position, Maryam could hear the rising undertone of speculation as the villagers tried to make sense of what they'd seen. With no comprehension of the workings of the gun, they concluded that it must have been Lucifer who'd struck the Holy couple down. Indeed, Mother Lilith's rash actions now placed all who'd raised their voices against the Holy Father at even greater risk than before.

Hushai and Vanesse rushed over to join them. “You must act decisively, young master, before things get completely out of hand.”

But Lazarus simply dropped to his haunches. He wrapped his arms around his knees and sank his head into the space between his knees and chest, rocking backward and forward like a hatching egg. Though Hushai could not see, he clearly sensed Lazarus's torment and reached his hand out with unerring
accuracy to lay it on Maryam's shoulder. “Little one, you must convince him that he has to act.”

“Act how? Do what?” As she stood there helplessly and watched Lazarus curl in on himself, her own shock kicked in, forming a cold, constricting belt of tension around her head that crushed all rational thought. The grief and panic in the air was overwhelming, swirling up and over her until she feared she'd drown. It threw her back to the nightmare time when she'd plunged into the sea to flee the burning boat: no air to breathe, no strength to swim back to the surface, just helpless flailing as she tumbled further and further into the depths of the ocean.

“It is not enough to tear down what is wrong, Sister Maryam. The true sign of greatness is the ability to rebuild and put things right.”

The old man's rebuke had little time to resonate, as Maryam's father, Natau, now clambered up onto the stage to prostrate himself in front of Lazarus. “I am your servant, Holy Father. I pledge my loyalty to both you and your new wife.”

Has he lost his mind? Maryam stared at the back of her father's balding head, sickened by such blatant and cold-hearted self-interest. To think that Lazarus would seize the throne of his father when he'd finally turned his back on the Apostles’ evil ways was so disgusting she couldn't bear to look at him. But as she turned away, she saw that a group of servers were now consulting with the elite of the Apostles, all of whom seemed to be carefully assessing proceedings on the stage through unfriendly, hooded eyes.

“Listen to him, Lazarus. Natau hands you the key.” Hushai's tone was urgent. He cocked his head, concentrating past the uproar on something only he could hear. “If you do not act quickly all progress will be in vain.”

Still Maryam railed against such a thought. “How can you even suggest it? It's—”

“It's time to grow up and start acting like a leader,” the old man interrupted, his censuring tone causing her face to flare with heat. He shuffled up until he loomed so close Maryam could see into the cloudy layer of scar tissue that shrouded his eyes. “You must help the boy pull himself together and declare himself the sole and rightful heir. Without immediate action, the whole island will break apart.”

“He's right,” Vanesse mumbled through her bruised and swollen jaw. “If you work from within and lead by positive example, it may be possible for good to triumph over evil—otherwise there will be an all-out war for power.”

Beyond her, the Apostles were rising now and regrouping, the elite forming into a determined wedge moving toward the stairs. Maryam's head felt like it would explode—there was too much to try to make sense of, even while her mind was still reeling from the deaths of Father Joshua and Mother Lilith. But it was clear this strange reprieve—the numb calm in the eye of the storm—was nearly over, and she forced herself to reason through what Hushai and Vanesse had said. Perhaps it was just too much to expect people like her father to shed their beliefs overnight—after all, had she not fought Ruth on this for months and come to the conclusion that faith was something that had no logic or reason, but was something intangible that gave believers comfort—a buffer against the unknowable and unknown?

She dropped down next to Lazarus, unconvinced but unable to counter with a better plan, and grasped his face between her hands to focus him. “Listen to me, Lazarus. You have to make a
stand—right now. You have to claim your father's inheritance before others take over and all chance of change is lost.”

He just stared at her, his eyes blank and uncomprehending.

She shook him, but still he did not respond. So, in desperation, she slapped his face, crying out as her hand met with his pale cheek. His eyes shocked wide, before slowly focusing on her own.

Thank you
.

“Declare yourself Holy Father, Lazarus. For goodness’ sake, hurry.” Everything inside her screamed that this was wrong, and yet there seemed no other choice.

He shook his head. “You, of all people, want me to step into my father's tainted shoes?”

“I want you to save the lives of Hushai and Vanesse and Lesuna and all the other good people who've braved death for us, to fight for what is right. And I want you to save yourself—and me.” She glanced up—they were nearly surrounded now. The Apostles’ hefty servers were primed and waiting for the call to act. She grabbed Lazarus's hand and dragged him to his feet. “I beg you, Lazarus, do it now.”

“How could Mother do that?” he asked, ignoring Mother Michal and the troupe of other white-clad Apostles as they stepped up to the stage.

“Maryam, here!” cried Vanesse, tossing something at Maryam. She caught it instinctively, before she realised what it was.

The conch shell. The signal for silence in the storm. She raised it to her lips, blowing with all her might, but no sound emerged.
Come on. Come on
. She tried again, her gaze locked on the procession of Apostles as they circled her little group.
This time the note rang out—a long pure tone that travelled through the chaos to the very back of the room. Instantly there was silence, but Maryam knew that it would only last for one short moment and they'd have to grab their chance now or fail. Fatally fail.

“Good people of Onewēre,” she declared, pitching her voice to encompass the entire crowd. “The Lord was on your side today, routing out the evil foretold by the omen to enable the rising of greater good.” She could see Mother Michal opening her mouth to protest, so hurried on. “I present to you the rightful heir and new Holy Father…Lazarus!” She propelled him through a gap in the threatening circle so he was free of them and clearly in the people's view.

“Hail Holy Father Lazarus!” her father cried. “He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Highest; and the Lord will give Him the throne of His father, in order to bless us all.”

“But what of the girl?” Mother Michal cried, her voice ringing out as she, too, placed herself centre stage. “The real Holy Father condemned her as evil—Lucifer's spawn—do you really want to see her sitting at Brother Lazarus's side?”

Maryam's stomach knotted even more tightly as it became clear Lazarus was in no state to counter this. He stood like prey transfixed by firelight, staring down at his bloodied hands and red-stained clothes.
He is clothed with a vesture dipped in blood…
The Holy Book's words jumped unbidden to her mind, yet offered no defence at all.
Please someone say something—this rebuttal is not mine to give
. But no one stepped forward. There was just a subtle movement from the Apostles’ circling guards, who looked to Mother Michal for her next command.
This could be it. This could be the moment where our bid for freedom finally fails
.

But then, to her utmost amazement, her grovelling father pushed forward again and jostled through the wall of servers to his daughter's side. “Alleluia: for the Lord God omnipotent reigneth!” he roared. “Let us be glad and rejoice, and give honour to Him: for the marriage of the Lamb is come, and his wife have made herself ready…and her light is like unto a stone most precious…and there shall be no more curse…”

“Come out of her, my people, that ye be not partakers of her sins, and that you receive not of her plagues…” Mother Michal countered. “Therefore shall her plagues come in one day, death, and mourning, and famine; and she shall be utterly burned with fire: for strong is the Lord who judgeth her. I swear to you, the mark of the beast is upon her. If you support her and her depraved husband—”

But Maryam's father broke in again, regaining something of the strutting rooster as he paced the stage with his lopsided limp. “Three times we have been sent omens to herald the dawning of this new age. First the black beast that circled in the skies, on the very day that marked my daughter's sixteenth birthday…”

Maryam was amazed: she was another year older, and her father remembered when her birthday was and had claimed her as his kin. Did that mean in some way he still cared? She honed back in on his words.

“…and then the show of blood—of purity—after it had been denied by He Who Was Overcome By Evil, and now, again, a third and final mark of proof.” He rushed at Maryam, grasping her scarred left arm to hold out for all to see. “Look! She bears the mark of the Lamb: the first letter of His earthbound name.” Natau traced his finger along the line of her scar,
emphasising its subtle curvaceous form.
J for Jesus or J for Joseph? Certainly J for Jumping To Conclusions and for Just In Time
.

It didn't seem to matter how precarious the link, for the united intake of breath spoke volumes. For a few intolerable moments there was a considered hush, then a solitary woman's voice shouted from the back of the congregation. “Hail Mother Maryam. Hail Holy Father Lazarus! Praise be to the Lord for ridding us of evil and bringing forth new leaders to guide us in His Holy Name.”

Maryam recognised the voice. She scoured the bobbing sea of faces until she located the one she sought. Mother Elizabeth grinned as her call took flight around her and built into a whirlwind of fanatical joy.
How easily the crowd's allegiances are swayed
, Maryam thought. She cast around, checking what threat still simmered behind them, in time to see impotent fury sweep Mother Michal's face.

Vanesse grasped Lazarus by the elbow now and towed him to the vacated throne beneath the painting of the Lord. She thrust him down into it, bellowing out with all the strength of her abundant lungs. “
Rule Number Nine: None may question the authority of the Lord's chosen representatives: the sacred Apostles of the Lamb
.”

The jubilation of the villagers became an unstoppable force, overwhelming the seditious circling of Mother Michal and her fellow Apostles. They broke from their ranks and surged onto the stage to seek the blessing of their new Holy Father by filing past the throne to kiss the ground at Lazarus's feet.

He looked on as though he was no part of it, his body slumped, exhausted and sealed within a thick bubble of shock and grief.

“Go to him,” Vanesse prodded Maryam. “Hushai and I will rally loyal servers to subdue any potential revolt. Right now he needs you at his side.”