"What matters the life, 'gainst the soul's eternity?"
Matt's anger flared. "Easy for you to say—you've never had a body!" The surge passed, and Matt lowered his eyes again. "Sorry. But it's not so easy to face death and torture when you're corporeal. I thought the Lord only wanted willing volunteers."
" 'Tis even so." The angel's voice was grim. "Thou art forgiven thy sin—and He will not compel thee. Turn, and return to thy place."
Matt sagged with relief. "Blessed be the name of the Lord!"
"Yet bethink thee," the angel said sternly, "thou didst swear—and this task thou hast sworn to do is greatly needed—not by God, but by thy fellow mortals. Dost thou not love Him?"
"Well, yes, but..."
"Then love also them! For hath He not said, `So long as thou hast done this for these, my little ones, thou has done it for Me'?"
"Well, yes, I do seem to remember the passage, but..."
"Dost thou not wish to serve the Lord thy God?"
"But it's impossible!"
"All is possible, to God."
"But I'm not God! Not even a close relative! Besides, whenever I say the Lord's Prayer, I ask Him to lead me not into temptation! Isn't there greater danger in Ibile for my soul than there is for my body?"
"There is great peril, aye, for in Ibile a magic-worker may become a sorcerer and gain great worldly power indeed! Yet thy soul was in greater peril when thou didst take the Name of God in vain! Aye, thou art hereby forgiven, since thou didst come from a world far removed in time from this and had not gained full awareness of truth—as thou shouldst have had! For the God of thy universe is the God of this, and thou hadst the Scriptures and the Law! No more didst thou need! Thou hadst but to cleave to them, and thou wouldst have kept thy soul free from sin! Oh, beware, Wizard! For the next such sin will put thee into the hands of the enemy! And if thou dost pass from the state of Grace, he shall use thine own powers of magic to tempt thee and damn thee!"
Matt stood, frozen, feeling the horror that the angel felt. Then, very softly, he said, "How can I, then, have the audacity to confront the powers of Satan in a land whose rulers, and many of whose people, are dedicated to him?"
"Through the power of God, Wizard! For be assured, He will not forsake thee! He will be thy staff, he will fill thee with all strength thou dost need! So long as thou art within the state of Grace, thou hast but to call on Him, and He will give thee all the fortitude thou couldst wish, to defend thee against temptation! God will not allow that thou be tried beyond thy strength!"
"That is very reassuring." It really was; Matt began to feel a bit of courage returning. "But say, angel—how shall I stand against the power of sorcery? Can the Lord give me...No, of course He can, what's the matter with me? But will He? Will He give me the power to defeat a sorcerous king? And all the hierarchy of sorcery at his command? For surely, only a saint could channel so much of God's power!"
"Hast thou no wish to be a saint?"
"Well, of course. I mean, I do intend to be one, someday—but I had just naturally assumed it was going to take a long time in Purgatory, and..."
"No saint can intervene in the affairs of that benighted land of Ibile;" the angel said sternly. "God will not send one of Heaven's host bodily against mortal humans, no matter how great their evil. He will not so strongly upset the balance here on earth; His saints work through the agency of human beings who open themselves to God and all His blessed ones."
"Well, I mean, I try..."
"That sufficeth—if thou dost try with all thy might to be good."
"But I've got such a temper! Such lust! Such confounded, overweening pride! I mean, here I was, about to take on all the evil of Ibile, just so I could become a king, and..." Matt ran down. "That wasn't exactly the most worthy of motives, was it?"
"Thou hast given thyself answer. Yet be assured, thou art perfectible. God does not ask that you never fail—He asks only that you persevere."
"But that's what I've been doing! All my life! Trying to be good, even if I did develop doubts about what good was, and virtue and sin..."
He ran down again. The angel only stood there, humming.
After a while, Matt said, "I did find some answers."
"Not all."
"No—though I've just found one more." Matt frowned. "Of course, I should have realized. I know the power of symbols over the human soul; I should have realized that, the Name of God was one of the most potent symbols that exists."
"Say, rather, the most powerful."
"The single one?" Matt lifted his head, then realized what that surge of questioning within him meant. "I still haven't learned, have I?"
"Nay. Ask thy self what the name of God comprises, and what that name doth constitute—and thou shalt be some little ways wiser."
Matt remembered the legend of the golem, and the Hindu catalog of names of God, and began to wonder again.
Then he realized that he was wondering, and broke down. "This is ridiculous! I can't possibly be a hero! I'm not sure of anything!"
"Anything?" the angel intoned.
"Well—not enough, anyway."
"It is enough. It will increase, in its testing. Wilt thou, then, do the Lord's will?"
"Look," Matt said in desperation, "I don't even have enough magical knowledge to do this job! Whenever I try to work a spell, it's like swimming through glue! When I do finally manage to finish a verse, it takes longer and longer each time before it takes effect! I just don't have the magical clout!"
"Indeed," the angel agreed. "Ibile hash been so long steeped in sin that it is now saturated with sorcery. Therefore the spells of good wizards seem weakened, for they have so much greater a weight of evil to work against."
Matt caught the concept instantly—a sort of magical inertia, varying directly with the evil confronted. "Can...No, strike that. Will God give me the extra strength I need to contend against magic like that?"
"He will give thee the strength, through the sorrowing patron of Ibile, who will ever stand ready to thine aid, if thou dost call upon him. Saint Iago is he named."
Not, Matt thought, the most auspicious of designations.
"Yet be not deceived," the angel said sternly. "If thou dost undertake this task for love of the Lord, He will give thee the strength—yet 'tis for thee to use that strength in such fashion as to banish these sorcerers of Ibile!"
"One against a thousand," Matt muttered. "Or five, or ten. I'm just not that smart."
"God will direct thee through His Grace—if thou art open to Him."
Matt thought of all the times that he had given in to anger, or the other temptations of the flesh, and shuddered. But he sensed, somehow, that if he turned back from this challenge, he would never be all that he could be. "I didn't ask for this."
"Nay," the angel said, "thou didst—not in the foolish haste of thy words alone, yet in a movement within thy spirit that led to them."
And that, Matt realized, was true. He had always been convinced of his own lack of worth—but his victory in Merovence had made him begin to think that he might be a better man than he had thought. In his cleanup campaign, each minor victory against a sorcerer had increased his longing for a bigger challenge, a stronger opponent to measure himself against...
But not this strong! "I just can't do it! Not alone!"
"Thou wilt not be alone," the angel assured him. "One already hath come to thine aid." It gestured toward Narlh's sleeping form. "There will be others—for many groan under the yoke of this sorcery."
Matt stared at the light, cowardice warring within him against courage and the need to prove himself. The moment stretched out...
Matt sagged. "I just can't do it."
The angel stood, humming, a moment longer...
Then, with a sound like a sigh, it disappeared.
Matt knelt, feeling the chill night air that somehow reached him through his guarding circle, then realized that it was a chill of the soul, a feeling of forlorn abandonment, removed from the messenger of God, from that partial contact with the Source of All...