117. Early in the morning I feel Him stir. The girl who comes to rouse Him is shy and barely whispers at Him but she leaves us both awake. He lies still for a little while and I lie there with Him, hearing Him collect his thoughts quietly in the early darkness. I would love to lie with Him for longer into the morning but after a few moments He leaps to His feet and pulls on His outer clothing. He is very fleet and once He is on His feet things happen very quickly. I barely keep up with Him as I pull on my cloak. He looks at me with some surprise but He is so taken up with what must happen today that He cannot stop to wonder why I have spent the night sleeping at His feet.

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118. We emerge from the caves to find the morning clear and fresh. My beloved goes around rousing His men, He wakes the nearest first and they rush around waking everybody else. He waits for them to assemble around Him before announcing that they are heading out early and all of them together. They nod in assent like they always do. Then as they look at Him He smiles and says: I may have done something to my hair. He pulls back His hood and they see what has happened, they are shocked at this transformation and they stare at Him aghast. He preens and adopts a couple of heroic poses and they gradually begin to laugh along with Him, they reach out to rough up His hair and they call Him by His brother's name. The tension of the moment breaks but the clever ones retain a wary look in their eyes. They know something strange is emerging and that we are going out to meet it.

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119. We tumble out of camp and down into the valley below. As we walk the men joke and laugh and my beloved seems uplifted by their mood. We move quickly over the open ground, hugging the valleys and the northern side of the hills, passing field workers and shepherds and farmers burdened with produce on their way to market. I have not walked this way before but the closer we get to our destination the more it seems overlaid with significance, like I am moving just ahead of events as they unfold behind me, leaving behind familiar scenes that play out slightly differently every time they occur. But our purpose is the same and the contours are the same as we skirt the hills to avoid the morning sun, although this time the sun will barely have risen before we reach our destination.

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120. As we walk I see familiar forms appearing out of the landscape. Their shapes twined around the outline of trees, or as faces emerging from the shape of rocky outcrops. They seem inert because their thoughts are so slow but they watch over our journey and hint at directions we should take, thwarting anything malevolent that might come after us. I see them often enough but never so clearly as today, in clumps of dense foliage, in the way the wind diverts down one side of a grassy field as they lie down on the other. They watch over the young particularly and every tradition says so, these protective spirits who are not omnipotent although they do have grave power. They record all deeds especially the harming of the innocent, they open their ledgers in that transitional space which surrounds the land of the living.

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121. When we reach the Garden He tells His men that we will stay here for the day. It is still early but He tells them to rest in the shade and get some sleep if they can, or to retreat to the nearby grotto if the day becomes too hot. He says something about why He has brought them to this place and for once His men begin to openly dissent. They do not understand why His brother deserves protection, they see the danger it puts Him in and they beg Him to reconsider. But after some frank words the men see He is resolute and they agree to abide by His plan. They confirm their allegiance to Him and my beloved takes courage from it, saying: It is only for one day. I will not need your faith in me for any longer than that.

 

122. He leads me out of the Garden and up the near hill. I have no trouble keeping up with Him but He still looks back and smiles at me every so often. We climb towards the summit of the hill and sunshine begins to pour over us, although He keeps His hood pulled firmly over His head. We arrive at what looks to be a graveyard and from the way He stills and steels himself I know this must be the place. He gives me brief instructions and I stand in the shade while He goes out amongst the graves and grave-markers that are now standing in the full sun. He walks out into the bright sunshine and throws off His cloak, I see Him kneel and bend His head and extend His hands palm upwards but nothing else happens for a long time.

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123. Just as I am about to look away I see a slight fluorescence grow around Him. I see Power drawn down into Him, and I realise that He means to expend this Power and all of His residual strength to draw down the sight They have turned towards His brother. He begins to flare and shimmer in the sun and my view of Him becomes obscure, but with my inward vision I see how He engages Them and it is an ugly thing to witness. He flings insults and threats and accusations out in every possible direction, these are not the beautiful words that His brother speaks but He harbours much more powerful words. I retreat into the far shade and I try to close off my sight. I feel like a spectator trapped in some gruesome arena where the bloodshed has turned general and the slaughter has become too much. 

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124. As He burns and postures in the sun I see exactly why She had me cut His hair. Why She has defiled Him by sending Him out amongst these graves. If He had retained His former strength He might have wrenched down their palaces with His bare hands. He could have devastated the Romans almost without exertion and that would just be the beginning. I see His soul bloating outwards to the point where He exercises His strength for the sport of it, I see Him kill His brother and take Her as His slave and enslave every one of Her kind. Out of His vast Love awakened too early and crushing everything in its embrace, turning Her slave revolt towards a Slave Religion that would never let the world from its thrall.

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125. What fragments of His strength do remain are eventually exhausted. When He walks back to share the shade with me a few times during the day it hurts to see Him so diminished. He cannot eat but He does take a little water before He heads back out amongst the graves. Each time He kneels I see more stutters in His strength, I see Him more and more laid low but He succeeds in diverting their attention. The sun makes its way down towards the western horizon and as the light slants past a certain point He collapses forward on to the ground and I know that He is done. I steal out of the lengthening shade towards Him and He sees me come, and as I help Him up He sighs and manages to laugh gently and say: it is finished. Thank you for staying with me. We should go back and tell the others the next part of the plan.

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126. I help Him stagger back down the slope until we are almost in view of His men. He does His best to stand upright and smile but none of them are fooled when we shamble back into the Garden. He takes a waterskin and the little bit of fruit they offer Him but He brings neither food nor water to His lips. He is sunburnt and half-crazed with the sun and none of them know what to do. As He tries to reassure them and say His farewells I move far enough away that I can't hear what they are saying, but I still see them hold their hands out to Him and plead against this madness. But after all of their cries and remonstrations, their warnings and their grief, I know in the end they will do exactly what He asks them to do.

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127. The men gather their things and dole out their food and their silver, a portion to each of them equally and the same. They kiss Him on both cheeks and tenderly embrace Him and it is a tragic scene I am now called to witness. How loving and brave these young men are even to be parted from one another, with each one facing an unknown fate and possibly a fate worse than death. But as their farewells finalise I hear laughter somehow ringing out in the face of all of it. I see the young and the very young smile and shake their heads and resign themselves to what must now be done.

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128. When His men have dispersed He lies down and groans in the early twilight. He has completely exhausted His strength and it is pitiful to see it, with His hair cut and His courage drained out by His brutal exertions in the sun. I come near Him and sit quietly and listen to Him think, I try to console Him with visions but I do not know how much He sees. I keep thinking how I might take Him and hide Him at least for another night. The darkness is not their domain and we could move quickly under the moonlight. But as soon as the sun rose we would be captured and taken, and if He drops from their vision they will immediately turn back towards the hunting of His brother.

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129. Not every Roman is corrupt and this is His best chance. To deliver Himself to the proper authorities in the hope of some kind of a trial, securing days or even weeks for His brother to be hidden and protected. My beloved is not known to have broken any law and He might well be spared the worst of their punishments. He knows as well as I do that this is a faint hope, but even a few hours in captivity might make all the difference. And after His exertions in the sun, the fools that He has made of them, it would be better to be taken publically than to be savaged in secret as soon as the sun rose.