0 | Terminal Cruise

THE BRIDGE 00: In the second year of the Confederate War, Deacon Joshua Lange, the son of a farmer of some standing, received correspondence from one Ariel Haivri concerning a matter he felt should be brought before his congregation without delay. With the permission of Elder David Long, he read this epistle to the assembly at the Price Meetinghouse following the Wednesday evening service. 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘏𝘢𝘪𝘷𝘳𝘪 𝘵𝘰 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘭𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘺𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘎𝘰𝘥 𝘔𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘏𝘪𝘨𝘩: 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺, 𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺. 𝘉𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘩 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘩, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘢𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘩 𝘪𝘯 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘭𝘥𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘳. 𝘐𝘯 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘧𝘦𝘵𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦, 𝘸𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘏𝘢𝘪𝘷𝘳𝘪 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘨𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘳.
01: 𝘈𝘯𝘺 𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘶𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘺. 𝘖𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘦. 𝘞𝘦 𝘶𝘳𝘨𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘴, 𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘦𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦; 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘺 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘩𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴, 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘭. 𝘛𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰: 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘶𝘱𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴, 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘚𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘚𝘦𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳, 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘸 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘥𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘦𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘦𝘴. 𝘞𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘯, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘫𝘶𝘥𝘨𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘥𝘰𝘮 𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘭, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘭, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘤𝘬, 𝘣𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘺 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘳. 𝘖𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘐𝘯 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺, 𝘸𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘞𝘢𝘺 𝘙𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘥.
02: The heralds of House Haivri claimed a lineage reaching far into antiquity and were well accustomed to the indifference of both commoner and magistrate, having endured such treatment as a matter of course over many generations. A portion, however, took the prudent step of conveying their families and livestock to Williamsport. Though Ariel had sent letters of similar tenor to nearly a dozen congregations in the surrounding country, the Lord of Hosts Fellowship alone returned an answer, divided though it was within itself. The rest maintained a silence as predictable as it was complete. The letter from Ariel produced a marked division among the brethren when Joshua read it aloud before the congregation on Wednesday evening. She gave the name of her people as Congregation Derekh Me’hudeshet, and this alone was enough to trouble many minds. Some held that they were not truly Christian, but rather heathen, or Jewish, or even, as a few put it, Romish.
03: Others suspected a design behind the offer, supposing that the promise of refuge served as a pretext by which their livestock might be seized. There was also the matter of the portrait enclosed with the letter, which made it plain that the writer was a woman. The likeness itself did not appear to be hand-tinted, but rendered in full and lifelike color, down to the smallest detail. On the afternoon of the seventeenth day of the month, shortly after Joshua had received the letter of Ariel Haivri, muskets were discharged in great number along two stone walls, the sound carrying rapidly from man to man and the smoke of black powder stinging the eyes of those engaged. These walls met at a bridge of dressed stone, where the new believers of the Lord of Hosts Fellowship were often received in baptism. It was there that the opposing forces came into contact, the Federals advancing in heavy order and with much shouting.
04: At the first encounter they pressed forward with determination and came near to the far side of the stream, but were driven back by the Confederates with considerable violence. Under sustained fire, the Federal troops fell back across the bridge, moving over the bodies of the fallen which already lay in layers upon the ground. Some were dead, others still alive and grievously wounded, their bones broken or their bodies pierced by musket shot. Among the fallen were men who had survived earlier battles, including that at Shiloh Church, where the conflict had first reached a severe level of slaughter. A large gun loaded with canister was brought to bear and placed to command the length of the bridge. It swept the structure from end to end, cutting men down in numbers, so that a second line of the dead was formed upon the first. Some of those present had also fought at Malvern Hill in Virginia, where the artillery had previously done great destruction.
05: In the action, two guns positioned upstream fired bursting shells that inflicted heavy losses upon the Union gunners, while another delivered solid shot with similar effect, until the remaining Federal piece was broken into splintered timber and twisted iron. Following this, the Confederate infantry advanced in counterattack and regained much of the bridge, which by that time had become a house of slaughter. During this fierce exchange, a Federal colonel was struck squarely by a musket ball. To the astonishment of his men, he quickly regained his feet unhurt; the projectile had lodged securely within a small Bible he habitually carried on his person. The men took this miraculous escape as a sign of providence. Emboldened, the colonel immediately led another charge against the enemy positions. In the brutal close-quarters combat that followed, soldiers on both sides stood upon the mounting heaps of the dead, passing loaded muskets forward like a bucket brigade at a fire and casting aside the empty weapons.
06: As the fighting continued, the Confederate infantry began to exhaust their powder, and the officer commanding them perceived that the bridge could no longer be held. He accordingly ordered his guns withdrawn under cover of fresh troops, who maintained a rearguard action to permit an orderly retirement. The commander of IX Corps then crossed the stone bridge, following the retreating Confederates. Having formed his command, he directed a lieutenant of his staff to ride to headquarters and report that a foothold had been secured on the left of the line at Rohrbach’s Bridge. The messenger, seeing the bridge so thickly carpeted with the dead of both armies, refused to ride back across it lest he trample the fallen. He instead went down to the creek and forded it on foot, avoiding the stone span which had become a veritable abattoir. The officer suffered no difficulty in this; the water of the run was nowhere more than waist-deep, a topographical fact well known to the local farmers in all seasons. KEMEN
07: Meanwhile, the Price Meetinghouse, the sanctuary of the Lord of Hosts Fellowship, was commandeered as a field hospital. The interior walls were soon stained with blood, and daylight streamed through numerous shot-holes in the structure, illuminating the wounded laid out across the floor. Medical officers worked without pause. One surgeon administered chloroform to anesthetize the men, while another plied the saw to amputate shattered limbs, tossing them into a growing pile outside the building. Lange entered the chapel and found the Federal commander poring over maps of Sharpsburg and the surrounding country, directing his dispositions. When the general looked up and beheld him, he spoke sharply: “Who are you, and what is your business here?” “I am a deacon of this church,” Lange replied, “which now lies in desolation around us.” The officer dismissed the claim. “This is no longer a house of worship,” he stated. “It is the headquarters of the army.”
08: The east and south doors had been unhinged and repurposed as tables for the wounded, resembling improvised altars of sacrifice. The congregation’s great Bible was nowhere to be found, whether lost through neglect or taken by some marauder. Outside, the pews had been dragged into the yard. Federal officers sat upon them at their ease, smoking cigars and whittling idly at the wood with their knives as though in sport. Lange confronted the General, demanding that he order his men to deal more gently with the property of the church. The commander took umbrage at the request. “Depart from my sight at once,” he ordered. “If you persist in remaining here, I shall place a musket in your hands and send you to the front line.” At that moment, a crashing report shook the building, and the sanctuary filled with flying splinters. The Rebel artillery had opened a furious barrage from behind their works to cover their retreat. The General rushed from the building, plucking splinters from his flesh and shouting orders.
09: The officers idling upon the pews scattered in haste as shells burst around them and solid shot struck nearby tree trunks. Federal artillery was brought up to answer the enemy’s guns. Lange remained within the chapel, maintaining a slender hope that his presence might yet induce the Lord to spare the structure. Even as he prayed, however, shot tore great openings in the walls, and two shells from the enemy’s chief battery burst directly above the roof. The artillery fire ceased abruptly and inexplicably. Choking in the dust and darkness of the ruined chapel, Lange was overcome by a sharp, agonizing pain. As he lay suffering in the gloom, pinned among the wreckage with the remaining officers, he heard the voice of a woman. “Samael, take great care,” she said. “Joshua is still alive beneath this fallen timber, though he is severely injured.” Lange was astonished by her presence. He had confided in no one when leaving his home, having no desire that any of his congregation should expose themselves to peril.
0A: As the light slowly increased, Lange watched a massive pine beam being hoisted upward with effortless ease, revealing a figure moving beneath the timber. It appeared to him that the outer walls of the meetinghouse were no longer standing, but had been swept away entirely. The woman then stepped into view. Her attire resembled the portrait of Ariel, though differing in color. She wore a long white coat, curiously fitted with numerous pockets, over a garment of red feathers. “You did well, Samael,” she said. “You were not here on the previous pass, so Gabriela cut through to him with Shahar Haruach, and not a few timbers shifted, and Joshua suffered immeasurably more.” A third voice then reported the presence of the three other wounded officers trapped in the debris. The woman replied that she would attend to all four, vowing to preserve the limbs that the ishim doctors had been preparing to amputate. Listening to this incomprehensible exchange, Lange began to fear he had lost his reason.
0B:The woman addressed him directly: “Do not be afraid, Joshua. A splinter has pierced your kidney, and your leg is broken. You cannot feel it because the beam is compressing it. That will change when we lift it.” Lange could manage nothing more than a gasp for help. “This will pain you considerably, to my great regret,” she continued, “but I see no way to avoid it.” Samael then hoisted the heavy timber with the same inexplicable lack of exertion. Instantly, Lange was struck by an agony surpassing anything he had ever known. His vision clouded with red, and, overcome by the sheer shock of the trauma, he lost consciousness. When Lange finally revived, he found himself lying in a bed within a remarkably well-appointed house constructed of glass, stone, and fine wood. He was nursed with great care by strangers, who urged him to remain at rest long after he felt he had gathered sufficient strength to rise. Out of gratitude, Lange obeyed his caretakers, though he could not banish thoughts of his congregation.
0C: He knew the brethren must be troubled by the sudden disappearance of their deacon in the midst of the battle. A woman clad in green soon approached his bed, introducing herself as Vretiel, the sister of Ariel. “Are you now well, Joshua?” she asked. “I am fully recovered,” he answered, “yet I would feel better if permitted to rise.” “Please do, Joshua Lange,” she replied. “I wish to introduce you to another who is with us. He arrived in much the same manner as you did, though under the threat of fire rather than battle.” Curious as to his surroundings, Lange asked, “Where is this place?” “It will be easier to show you than to tell you,” Vretiel answered. “Come, and see.” She led him outside, where he observed a young man seated beside a large pool surrounded by a dark wooden deck. Joshua Lange recognized the youth at once as one of the original inhabitants of the continent. As he approached, Lange realized with some astonishment that the pain in his back and fractured leg had almost entirely subsided.
0D: Given the severe trauma he had sustained during the bombardment, this rapid recovery was extraordinary. “Joshua Lange,” Vretiel said, “I would like you to meet this young man. Among his people he is called Shy Bear, though the name of his manhood which he shall take hereafter is Jashen. He has not yet learned much English, but I am working to remedy that.” Uncertain of the proper etiquette for such an introduction, Lange inclined his head and displayed his empty hands as a fellow guest of House Haivra. This gesture appeared to suffice. Vretiel smiled and took a seat beside the young man, gesturing for Lange to do the same. He complied somewhat reluctantly; having been confined to bed for so long he would have preferred to remain standing. “I asked that he be present so you might know him by sight,” Vretiel explained. “In a time to come, if God is willing, you shall meet again.” Lange studied the youth to commit his features to memory, but his attention was quickly arrested by the heavens behind the pair.
0E: He observed drifting clouds, but the firmament beyond them was a stationary expanse of muted colors. He realized with profound disorientation that he was looking at landmasses suspended in the sky. Above them, the sun hung directly overhead. It was irregular in shape, fluctuating in both heat and brilliance, yet it remained entirely fixed in its position. Confronted with these astronomical impossibilities, he asked once more, “Where are we?” “This place is called Kemen,” Vretiel replied. “There is no measure of distance, nor any heading, by which it can be charted relative to the places you know.” “Have I passed on, then?” Lange asked. “No, Joshua,” she answered. “You are safe, as are your people in the other world. The invading army is presently retreating across the river, and the United States forces will soon also vacate your lands. My sister will return your livestock, just as she promised.” Vretiel smiled gently. Reaching beneath her chair, she produced a roll of canvas and placed it in his hands.
0F: “This map will guide you and your people to a place where you can make your new home. I will be waiting for you there, and Jashen will be with me.” Lange unrolled Vretiel’s canvas for inspection. It depicted rivers, forests, and elevations, yet it was devoid of names or boundary lines. Discerning the location of their designated settlement, he observed, “It is a considerable distance.” “It is indeed as far as you can go by river and by rail, and yet further on foot. The Haivri family maintains a small holding near the terminus of the rail line where we shall provision your company for the final leg of the journey. You will proceed to the source of this river, where your people may dwell in peace alongside the Kuwapi.” Hearing that name, Shy Bear looked up in recognition and offered Lange a smile. “But I must caution you, Joshua,” Vretiel continued, “that some among your own congregation will judge you unsound of mind when you recount your stay in this place and how swiftly Raphael restored your body.”
0G: “Then I shall entreat the Lord to select servants more worthy, that His will might be accomplished,” Lange answered. “That will not be necessary,” Vretiel countered. “The brethren of the Lord of Hosts Fellowship are much like those who first loved Lord Yeshua when he walked in your world. However, the territory designated for your settlement would only bring a slow starvation, if the water marked upon that map proved to be a mere mirage.” “Then God invites us to proceed by faith,” Lange observed. “Yes,” Vretiel answered. “Even at the slow pace of oxen and wagons. However, Ariel will travel with you, should you agree to receive her. So too may any of your congregation who hear of what you have seen, believe it, and choose of their own free will to make the journey. As it has been from the very beginning, El Elyon, God Most High, seeks students, not thralls.” She paused, looking directly at him. “And you, Joshua, are not excepted from this choice. Do you freely choose to take up a new life in the West?”
0H: Lange did not hesitate. “I do,” he replied. “It shall be exactly as you have spoken.” And Shy Bear, a youth raised among the nomadic tribes of the Great Plains, observed how pleased Vretiel had become by Lange’s response, despite understanding little of the exchange himself. Rising to his feet, he approached Lange with his hands held open in a gesture of peace and said in farewell, “Joshua Lange, hello.” Now by sundown on the day of the great battle the Rebel army had been pressed back into a wide bend of the Potomac River, but it had rained, and the waters were running unexpectedly swift, rendering the fords practically impassable. The Federal commander surveyed the field but declined to renew the advance, despite holding a numerical advantage. Discontent circulated among the ranks and the officer corps alike; it was widely remarked that even if the commanding general’s strength were multiplied several times over, he would still manufacture delays and complain of insufficient troops to strike the enemy. AFTERMATH
0I: At dusk on the following day the river subsided, and a mounted courier arrived with orders for the general evacuation of the wounded. Among those awaiting transport were three men who had been fully restored by Raphael in Kemen, though the medical staff dismissed their accounts of the place as the ravings of delirium. Outside the field hospitals the accumulated heaps of amputated limbs were set ablaze. Ambulances began the grim work of bearing away the maimed. At every roughness in the road cries of anguish arose from the men confined within the wagons. No man who witnessed the procession of the casualties, nor the carnage left upon the field, could ever again speak lightly of the glories of war. This was a sentiment already deeply shared by the faithful of Lange’s congregation. Then Deacon Lange was safely debouched in the empty ruins of the meetinghouse even as his fellow worshipers emerged from their homes, in a state of deep apprehension, to begin the cheerless toil of burying the dead.
0J: The morning of the nineteenth rose gray and thin. Smoke still clung in the low places, and the fields about the ruined meetinghouse were strewn with cast-off gear and darker burdens awaiting the brethren. Daniel Price came first among them, walking with the stiffness of a hard-laboring man who had not slept, and after him John Rowland and Samuel Fahrney, with Klaus Reichard and David Stouffer close behind. To a man they rejoiced to find deacon Joshua Lange standing without the ruins of their chapel and seemingly unharmed. “Brethren,” he said, his voice hoarse but steady. “Ye have come early to the house of the Lord, albeit the house be cast down.” And the men marveled that much of the fallen timber was not to be found, as though the men of the armies had carted it away to be used in their breastworks. Lange inclined his head, and told them, “A great timber brake my leg, so that I could not rise.” He set a hand against his back. “Another pierced me here and I felt the warmth of my own blood depart me.”
0K: Reichard frowned and glanced at the others. Your leg, sir, may we see it?” Without protest, Lange drew his limb forward. The cloth was rent, but the flesh beneath showed no swelling, no misalignment, and no sign of fracture. Stouffer shook his head. “There is no break here.” “And your back,” Price added gently. Lange loosened his coat. There, between his spine and his hip, was a pale mark no longer than a finger, as from a shallow cut long healed. Lange could not see the hurt he claimed to have suffered, but he said, “The pain was fierce. It overcame me, and I fell into darkness.” Rowland and Fahrney exchanged a worried glance but they said nothing. Reichard said, “Joshua, I believe you were struck upon the head. It is the mercy of God that you live, but visions do come of such blows.” At this, Joshua reached into his coat and drew forth a folded canvas which he opened with great care. Upon it were traced winding lines. No names were marked them, no towns, no mountains or borders, only the flowing paths.
0L: The men bent close. “I know these rivers,” Fahrney said slowly, though his brow was knit. “Or I think I do. Yet I cannot say which is which.” “There are no names,” Stouffer said. Reichard straightened, shaking his head. “A map without names is no map at all, one would think.” “And yet it was given me,” said Lange. Price studied him a long moment, then laid a hand upon his shoulder. “However it be, Joshua, you are returned to us, God be praised.” Rowland glanced toward them, then back to Lange. “Can you walk?” Lange moved without aid. His leg bore him true. Fahrney gave a quiet, almost incredulous laugh. “Broken, was it?” “So I believed,” Lange answered. In the uncomfortable silence the women of the congregation were seen coming to join them. Price spoke again, and his voice was heavy. “Come. There is work to be done. The living must tend to the dead.” But Rowland and Fahrney walked beside Lange as they left the sacred precincts, neither pressing him further nor dismissing what they did not understand.
0M: Now to expedite the necessary burial details, the Federal government promised a bounty of one dollar for every soldier interred by the local farmers. It was whispered that one man of Sharpsburg, unaffiliated with the church, had merely dumped scores of bodies into a dry well to quickly collect the funds. Amidst the desolation of the battle, Elder David Long sought to rally his dismayed flock. “Do not grieve overmuch, my friends,” he told them. “We shall bury the dead, and make our meetinghouse as it was before. If the brethren have willing hands, all this shall soon be but an unhappy memory.” But Joshua Lange remained unconvinced by the Elder’s hope. “Even before our grief is abated,” he said, “such destruction may come again. Virginia lies just beyond the river. Why, only last month came a second fight at Manassas, and with worse result than the first!” “There is little to be done,” David Long replied. “As the Lord has seen fit, our fertile shore has become a convenient crossing-place for these armies.”
0N: “Then it may be wisdom,” Lange countered, “that we accept the assistance offered by our new friends of Congregation Derekh Me’hudeshet, and remove ourselves entirely from the path of the war.” “We must seek the Lord’s will in this matter,” the Elder decided. “Let every man among us pray upon it. And at present, there is no prayer better than hard work.” The congregation urgently required their draft animals to convey the dead to the burial trenches. Fully half of the community’s livestock had been either commandeered by the armies or slain by artillery fire during the campaign. Now the brethren who had taken the prudent course of driving their livestock northward toward Williamsport had accomplished the task in strength, yet following the battle Ariel Haivri managed to return, unaided, every horse, mule, and head of cattle entrusted to the Haivri family, as she solemnly promised. Ariel seemed to possess an uncanny affinity for the animals, a skill that did not pass unremarked by the faithful.
0O: And it was noted that her own mount was tended with greater care than she bestowed upon herself. Even so, Lange found his heart drawn to her, which fueled whispers among the more suspicious believers that her peculiar power over beasts might well extend to men. When the work of burying the fallen was completed, Elder David Long announced his decision to remain in Sharpsburg. Joining him was the Price family, who had deeded the land for the meetinghouse. Though their farm had been laid waste they aimed to restore it, grateful at least that their fields had been spared from becoming a military graveyard. Five other families likewise chose to remain. Together, they covenanted to rebuild the house of prayer destroyed in the crossfire. The Haivri family pledged to assist any of the brethren willing to relocate far from the threat of war. Several families considered the migration, though liquidating their land and making the necessary preparations for such an overland journey would require considerable time.
0P: Furthermore, the seemingly boundless generosity of Ariel’s kinfolk continued to engender suspicion among some who feared an underlying motive. Lange reminded them of the Apostle’s injunction: “Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.” Now when the faithful of the Lord of Hosts Fellowship had first viewed Ariel’s enclosed portrait many had mistaken her for a young man, or even a lad. Lange himself had initially shared this misconception. Riding north along the road toward the Haivri farm he often positioned himself slightly behind her, observing her closely as his affections increasingly engaged. She sat her horse a full head taller than Lange. Her frame was slender and her hair was unusually short for a woman of that era. During the march Lange remarked conversationally that it might become her to allow her dark, reddish hair to grow out, noting that her current appearance gave her the aspect of some tall woodland spirit. Ariel dismissed the suggestion.
0Q: “No shears come near my head, she replied. “The strands grow only as long as you see, and no longer. Then they fall away, one by one, and I scarcely take notice.” As the party neared the Haivri farm,the weather suddenly broke, bringing a brief but violent squall. To Lange’s considerable astonishment, Ariel surrendered the shelter of her tent entirely to her mount, electing to remain exposed to the downpour herself. In the days that followed, he observed that she consistently bestowed far more attention upon her horse than she did in assisting her mother Mikela with the management of their household. Welcomed as an honored guest by Mikela, Lange took the opportunity to inquire directly whether her family was of the Jewish faith. To Mikela the question seemed to afford her a degree of quiet amusement. She said, “The Haivri family thrived even before the construction of the First Temple. We predate the traditions that the rabbis have codified in these recent centuries in the absence of a sanctuary.”
0R: Mikela went on to say, “My surname, ha-Ivri, means ‘The Ones Who Passed Over.’ The word Hebrew is merely a corruption of that term over the passage of much time. We consider ourselves the annunciators of God, though men seldom listen to us.” “But madam,” Lange replied, “certain members of my congregation and I have already derived great benefit from the words you have spoken.”Lange observed that the Haivri residence was seemingly kept in a state of disorder, but the untidiness of the dwelling stemmed not from neglect, but from an abundance of material goods, testifying to an unstudied wealth. Ariel’s kin, whom Lange encountered around Williamsport, similarly possessed ample means without any ostentatious display. They appeared to operate as though their resources were permanently assured. Each labored industriously in their own specific pursuits. Ariel devoted herself to her horses from a genuine affection; she valued the animals for themselves, rather than for the draft or saddle service they provided. SUIT
0S: The Haivri family requisitioned a small cottage for Lange situated somewhat apart from Ariel’s own residence. Her extended kin made similar provisions for each of the families from Sharpsburg who had joined the expedition. Rations were supplied daily in abundance and without cost. This charity, however, sat uneasily with the refugees. It ran contrary to the ingrained independence of rural Americans, who were wholly unaccustomed to accepting sustenance without offering commensurate labor in return. Observing this dynamic, Lange could not entirely shake a troubling suspicion: he feared his uprooted congregation had become an idle diversion for Mikela, much in the same way the horses were a diversion for Ariel. Regardless of his underlying motives, Mikela graciously granted the refugees the use of Temple Derekh Me’hudeshet, allowing the congregation a proper place to assemble for their Sunday services. But Lange’s growing affections for Ariel soon became a source of profound internal disquiet.
0T: He could no longer dismiss the events in Kemen as the ravings of a battlefield fever; the rapid healing of his shattered leg stood as undeniable proof. He suspected the Haivri were real angels dwelling amongst humanity, yet this conclusion brought him no comfort. As a man grounded in scripture, Lange was aware of the doctrine set forth in the Gospel of Luke which stated that celestial beings “neither marry, nor are given in marriage.” If Ariel was indeed an angel, his growing attachment to her was not only futile but presumptuous. Compounding his confusion was how the Haivri family’s untidy household and Ariel’s fascination with beasts hardly aligned with orthodox depictions of the heavenly host. Seeking clarity, Lange approached Ariel while she was brushing down her mount. He broached the subject cautiously, framing his dilemma as a matter of theological inquiry rather than a personal confession. He asked how a man of faith ought to reconcile the revealed nature of House Haivri with scriptural teachings.
0U: Ariel paused in her work, recognizing the personal anguish hidden beneath his question. She understood the rigid view of the Bible held by most rural congregations and she was reluctant to dismantle the foundation of his faith. “Joshua,” she replied, her tone careful but direct, “you read the scriptures as though they were a monologue by God. But consider the texts you know so well. The Book of Proverbs promises the righteous will always prosper and the wicked will always fall, yet turn to the Book of Job and you find a world where the innocent suffer terribly under an inscrutable God. Perhaps what we really have is a dialogue by men.” Lange conceded the point, though he was unaccustomed to hearing it stated so bluntly. She said, “The scribes who compiled the texts understood these contradictions perfectly, yet included them together, not to confuse the reader, but to capture the full, complicated breadth of existence. You should not assume that the nature of my family is bound by a single verse in Luke.”
0V: One evening at supper Mikela casually remarked to Ariel that she stood in clear need of a male companion, if only to quiet certain persistent rumors passing among the refugees. The following morning, Ariel promptly purchased a stallion. On another occasion, Lange betrayed a momentary, sharp jealousy upon discovering a strange hair clinging to her coat; Ariel simply led forth the horse from which it had been shed, to his considerable embarrassment. Determined to proceed properly, Lange sought out Mikela the next day. Approaching her in all earnestness, he asked, “What must I know of the customs of the Haivri clan concerning courtship?” Mikela replied with her characteristic detachment. “If you have a mind toward Ariel, then know that she is wholly free. The Family keeps no rules of the sort you imagine. If there are to be any such customs they shall be appointed by Ariel herself, and it will be your task to discover them. That is the nature of it, and truth be told, Joshua, therein lies the interest!”
0W: The matriarch then shifted the conversation to a more serious theological footing. “I would ask you, Joshua,” Mikela said, “what are your views concerning divorce?” “The brethren have always held the New Testament to be the absolute rule for every part of our lives,” Lange answered. “That is exactly why I asked,” Mikela replied. “In the Gospel according to Mark, the Lord Yeshua is reported to have forbidden divorce altogether. Yet in the text attributed to Matthew, he permits it in cases of infidelity. Paul also wrote that the marriage bond may be dissolved when one party remains in unbelief. Thus, on this specific matter, your scripture says both yes and no, and something else besides.” And by these remarks, Mikela demonstrated a grasp of Christian scripture far greater than Lange had anticipated. “Be that as it may, madam” Lange answered, “it is of no consequence. I truly love your daughter, and I solemnly swear to you that the ordinances concerning divorce shall never be an issue between us.”
0X: “Your words do you credit, Joshua,” Mikela said. “Yet even with the veil of affection over your eyes you must have noticed how Ariel has a certain manner with animals. And man is certainly of their kin.” “I am grieved, madam, that you accept the strange notions of Mr. Charles Darwin,” Lange replied, genuinely dismayed by the comparison. “We consider it far stranger,” Mikela countered, “to suppose that man is altogether set apart from the rest of creation.” “Then, madam,” Lange pressed, “do you agree with the less charitable members of my flock who whisper that I have been bewitched by your daughter?” “No, there is no such enchantment, Joshua,” Mikela answered calmly. “Yet as your courtship proceeds, it will inevitably provoke discussions regarding the secrets of the Haivri family that extend far beyond what you have already witnessed in Kemen.” She went on to offer a measured warning. “Mystery is certainly part of the charm. But do not allow yourself to be overtaken by surprises too profound to endure.”
0Y: And Joshua perceived that Ariel sought out his company in her turn, requiting his affinity in small signs that waxed at a stately pace. There came an evening when his suit crossed some invisible boundary, and Ariel loosed some of the bonds of her corselet. She discreetly revealed something substantial of what a mortal man was set to receive when an elyonoth of House Haivri set her heart upon him in return. To Joshua’s mind the show of brown feathers seemed to settle matters. Yet, rather than feeling triumphant, this development seemed to precipitate in him a profound sense of inadequacy. He was a simple rural deacon, anchored to the mud and blood of Maryland, while she was a living marvel. Unable to contain his doubts, he approached her one evening by the stables. “Ariel,” he began haltingly, “I must confess a great bewilderment. You have traversed bounds of history and geography in ways that I can scarcely comprehend. What could a woman of your vast experience possibly see in a man of my humble station?”
0Z: Ariel paused in her work, leaning against the stall door. “Joshua,” she said solemnly, “Clear-sighted were they who appointed you deacon of your church. I have never in my life met a man more abundantly possessed of the grace of God and more willing to share.” Then dropping all pretense of formality that Lange had supposed was foundational to the great game of pitching woo, she went on to say, “But I am genuinely astonished that a man of your age has never received the Mommy and Daddy’Talk.” He had expected a philosophical treatise on the nature of love across time. The absurdity of her actual response shattered his insecurities entirely. The matter was settled between them, and their course toward matrimony was firmly established. At her bridal gathering, Ariel received numerous gifts, a significant portion of which were, perhaps inevitably, horse bridles. On the day appointed for the wedding itself, Ariel tarried overlong mucking and tending the stables. Lange proceeded with his vows regardless.

0

Share this:

Posts