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They stared at her, totally rapt.
“Only two kinds of people are left here in this hell of flesh and pain. The heretics who refuse to accept the truth and the will of our god,” said Mother Rose, her voice strident and powerful, “and us—the sanctified soldiers of God. We are the reapers sent among the wayward fields to cut down the infection that is life.”
“Praise be to the darkness!” they cried.
“And together we have sent thousands of heretics into the darkness. Thousands.”
Lilah could see that most of the reapers were openly weeping, nodding in absolute agreement with everything this woman said.
“And yet we are mortals, we are of the flesh, even if we are filled with the glory of God,” she said. “While we remain steadfast to our purpose, we must never forget that we can only glimpse the will of the lord of darkness. We are not arrogant enough to say that we know all of his will.”
The reapers said nothing, though Lilah saw some of them frown, as if they were uncertain where this was going.
“We must also be prepared for our holy war to last as long as our god needs it to last,” continued Mother Rose, “even if that means that some of us must remain in the flesh.”
“But for how long?” begged Brother Simon. “How long until we are all released from the flesh?”
Mother Rose turned fully toward him, and even from her place of concealment Lilah could feel the impact of that woman’s stare. It was as hard as a fist and as riveting as a sudden thunderclap.
“As long as God wills it,” she said very slowly, spacing each word and filing each syllable to a dagger point. “If he calls us home this minute, we should be ready to open red mouths in our own flesh.”
“Praise be the darkness,” cried the reapers.
“And if the lord of darkness ordains that we must wither with old age before we are called home, then is that too costly a price for the faithful to pay?”
There was such powerful challenge in her words that every tongue was stilled, and even Lilah held her breath. Mother Rose stepped close to Brother Simon.
“Answer me, my brother,” she said in that cold, cold voice. “If God wills that our holy war last a hundred years, would you spit in God’s eye and defy such a request?”
Brother Simon dropped to his knees, weeping and shaking with terror. He struck his own face and tore at his clothes before finally collapsing facedown in the dirt.
“I am the humblest of God’s servants,” he wailed. “My life is his unto the end of time.”
Mother Rose smiled and nodded.
“Thus speak all who truly love the Lord Thanatos,” she said, and then turned away.
“Praise be to the darkness!” shrieked the reapers.
Mother Rose raised her hand, and they all fell silent.
“Brother Simon,” she murmured, “rise and stand before me.”
The wretched reaper staggered to his feet. Blood leaked from his nostrils from his self-inflicted blows.
“The lord of darkness requires much of you,” said Mother Rose, then turned to the others. “He requires much of all of you. Will you, by fire and steel, earn your passage into the darkness?”
“Yes!” they screamed. Many of them tore at their own clothes or beat their chests.
Mother Rose raised a hand and pointed a long, slender finger toward the southeast. “Out there, beyond this forest, lies Sanctuary. We cannot let this ‘weapon’ continue to rest in the hands of heretics and blasphemers. If we do not take control of it, then it will be used against us. Against our god.” She paused, and everyone hung on her every word. “Find it. Track down every heretic in these woods. Open red mouths in their flesh, and they will beg to tell you everything about Sanctuary.”
“What if none of them know anything?” asked Brother Eric.
“Offer them the choice. Join us or go into the darkness.”
The reapers all nodded.
“And if they do know something?” asked a trembling Brother Simon.
