The Valkyries: An Encounter With Angels

by Paulo Coelho

  There was no response. Paulo felt that Chris was ruining everything.

  "The Ritual That Demolishes Rituals," said one of the Valkyries from high in the rocks.

  "Silence!" Valhalla shouted. "The audience gets to speak only when this is over! Applaud or boo--but pay the admission!"

  Valhalla finally appeared. She wore her kerchief knotted around her forehead, Indian-style. She usually wore it that way when she was saying her prayers at day's end. It was her crown.

  She brought with her a barefoot girl, wearing Bermudas and blouse. When they had come closer, and the moonlight illuminated their faces, Chris saw that it was one of the Valkyries--the youngest of the group. Without her leather outfit and her aggressive air, she seemed only a child.

  Valhalla placed her in front of Paulo, and traced a large square around them. At each of its corners, she stopped and spoke a few words. Paulo and Rotha repeated the words in Latin--the young woman made several errors, and had to begin again.

  She doesn't even know what she's saying, Chris thought. Neither the square nor the words were a part of what usually happened at the performances in the city.

  When Valhalla had completed the inscription of the square, she asked that the two approach her. They remained within the square, while she stood outside.

  Valhalla turned to Paulo, looked deep into his eyes, and handed him the long leather belt she usually wore around her waist.

  "Warrior, you are imprisoned within your destiny by the power of these lines and of these sacred names. Warrior, victorious in battle, you are now in your castle, and you will receive your reward."

  In his mind, Paulo created the walls of the castle. From that moment on, the ravine, the Valkyries, Chris, Valhalla, and everything else ceased to be of importance.

  He was an actor in the sacred theater. The Ritual That Demolishes Rituals.

  "Prisoner," Valhalla said to the girl, "your defeat has been humiliating. You were unable to defend your army with honor. The Valkyries will come down from heaven to recover your body when you are dead. But until then, you will receive the punishment that the loser deserves."

  With an abrupt gesture, she tore open the girl's blouse.

  "Let the spectacle begin! This, oh warrior, is your trophy!"

  He seized the girl violently. She fell awkwardly, cutting her chin, and it bled.

  Paulo knelt at her side. In his hand, he clutched Valhalla's belt, and it seemed to have an energy of its own. It frightened him, and for a few moments he left the imaginary walls of the castle and returned to the ravine.

  "She's really hurt," Paulo said. "She needs some help."

  "Warrior, that is your trophy!" Valhalla repeated, stepping away. "The woman who knows the secret you are after. Extract that secret from her, or give it up forever."

  "Not for ourselves, Lord, not for ourselves, but for the glory of your name," he said in a low voice, repeating the motto of the Templars. He had to make a quick decision. He recalled the time when he believed in nothing, thinking all of this was simply dramatics--but even then, things were transformed, and the truth emerged.

  He was faced with the Ritual That Demolishes Rituals. A sacred moment in the life of a magus.

  "Sed nomini Tuo de Gloriam," he said again. And in the moment that followed, he dressed himself in the role suggested by Valhalla. The Ritual That Demolishes Rituals began to unfold. Nothing else was important--only that unknown path, that frightened woman at his feet, and a secret that had to be won from her. He strode around his victim, and thought of those times when morality was different--when taking possession of a woman was a rule of combat. Men had risked their lives in war for gold and women.

  "I won!" he screamed at the girl. "And you lost!"

  He knelt and seized her by the hair. Her eyes stared into his.

  "It is we who will win," the girl said.

  He threw her violently to the ground again.

  "The rule of victory is to win."

  "All of you think you won," the prisoner continued. "You won only a battle. It is we who will win the war."

  Who was this woman who dared to speak to him this way? She had a lovely body--but that could wait. He had to learn the secret he had sought for so long.

  "Teach me how to see my angel," he said, trying to keep his voice calm. "Then you will be set free."

  "I am free."

  "No. You don't know the rules of victory," he said. "That's why we defeated all of you."

  The woman seemed to become confused. "Tell me about those rules," she said. "And I will tell you the secret about your angel."

  The prisoner was making a trade. He could torture her, destroy her. There she was, fallen at his feet--yet she was proposing a trade. Perhaps she wouldn't confess under torture. Better to make the trade. He would tell her about the five rules of victory, since she was never going to leave there alive.

  "The morality rule: You have to fight on the side that is in the right, and that's why we won. The weather rule: A war in the rain is different from a war in the sun; a battle in the winter is different from a battle in the summer."

  He could fool her now. But he wasn't able to invent false rules on the spot. The woman would notice his hesitancy.

  "The space rule," he continued. "A war in a ravine is different from a war in the field. The choice rule: The warrior knows how to choose who should give advice, and who will remain at his side in combat. A chieftain cannot be surrounded by cowards or traitors."

  He thought for a moment about whether he should continue. But he had already told her four of the rules.

  "The strategy rule," he said finally. "The way in which the battle is planned."

  That was all of it. The girl's eyes gleamed.

  "Now tell me about the angels."

  She looked at him, saying nothing. She had learned the formula, even though it was too late. Those valiant warriors never lost a battle--and legend had it that they used five rules of victory. Now she knew what they were.

  She knew it would do her no good, but at least she could die in peace. She deserved the punishment she was to receive.

  "Tell me about the angels," the warrior said again.

  "No! I won't tell you about the angels."

  The warrior's eyes changed, and she was delighted. He would show no mercy. The only thing that frightened her was that the warrior might be governed by the rule of morality, and spare her life. She wasn't deserving of that. She was guilty--dozens, hundreds of sins accumulated during her short life. She had disappointed her parents, disappointed men who had grown close to her. Deceived the warriors who had fought at her side. She had allowed herself to be taken prisoner--she was weak. She deserved to be punished.

  "Hatred!" they heard a distant woman's voice say. "The secret of the ritual is hatred!"

  "We made a trade," the warrior repeated, and now his voice was as cold as steel. "I lived up to my side."

  "You are not going to let me leave alive," she said. "But at least I got what I wanted. Even though it's of no use to me."

  "Hatred!" The voice of the woman was beginning to have an effect on him. He was allowing his worst feelings to surface. Hatred was permeating the warrior's heart.

  "You are going to suffer." he said. "The worst tortures anyone has ever experienced."

  "I will suffer."

  "I deserve this," she thought. She deserved the pain and the punishment. She deserved death. Ever since she was a child, she had refused to fight--she didn't believe that she was capable of it. She accepted everything from others, suffered in silence the injustices to which she fell victim. She wanted everyone to see that she was a good girl. That she was sensitive in her heart, and able to help everyone. She wanted to be liked at any cost. God had given her a good life, and she had not been able to make use of it. Instead, she begged that others love her, lived her life as others wanted her to, all in order to show that she was kindhearted and able to please everyone.

  She had been unfair to God, had thrown her life
away. Now she needed an executioner who would dispatch her quickly to hell.

  The warrior felt the belt becoming alive in his hand. For a moment, his eyes met those of his prisoner.

  He was waiting for her to change her mind, beg his forgiveness. Instead, the prisoner winced as she awaited the blow.

  Suddenly, everything disappeared except his rage at having been tricked by his prisoner. The hatred came in waves, and he was beginning to see how capable he was of cruelty. He had always been wrong, he had always allowed his heart to give in at the very moment when he should have meted out justice. He had always forgiven--not because he was a good person, but because he was a coward. He was afraid that he couldn't see such things through to the end.

  Valhalla looked at Chris, and Chris returned her stare. The moonlight prevented each from seeing clearly into the eyes of the other. And that was a good thing, because each was afraid to reveal what she was feeling.

  "For God's sake!" the prisoner screamed again, before the blow was delivered.

  The warrior halted his stroke in midair.

  But the enemy had arrived.

  "Enough," said Valhalla. "That's enough."

  Paulo's eyes were glazed. He grabbed Valhalla by the shoulders.

  "I feel this hatred!" he shouted. "I'm not making it up! I've let some demons loose that I wasn't even aware of!"

  Valhalla took the belt from his hand, and went to see whether Rotha was injured.

  She was crying, her head between her knees.

  "It was all true," she said, embracing Valhalla. "I provoked him, and I used him as my instrument of punishment. I wanted him to destroy me, to put me to death. My parents blamed me, my brothers and sisters blamed me. All I've ever done in life was wrong."

  "Go and put on another blouse," said Valhalla.

  Rotha stood up, trying to arrange her torn clothing.

  "I want to stay this way," she said.

  Valhalla hesitated for a moment, but said nothing. She walked to the wall of the canyon and began to climb. At the top, she was surrounded by three Valkyries, and she gave a signal that the others climb up, as well.

  Chris, Rotha, and Paulo climbed the wall in silence. The moonlight showed them the way; with the many handholds in the rocks, it was not a difficult ascent. At the top, they could look out at a vast plain riven by arroyos.

  Valhalla told Paulo and the girl to come together again, face to face, embracing.

  "Did I hurt you?" Paulo asked. He was horrified with himself.

  Rotha shook her head. She was ashamed--she would never succeed at becoming a woman like those who surrounded her. She was too weak.

  Valhalla knotted together the kerchiefs of two of the Valkyries. She slipped them through the belt loops of the man and woman, binding them to each other. From where she stood, Chris could see that the moon formed a halo around the couple. It would have been a beautiful scene--if it were not for all that had happened. If that man and woman were not so distant from each other--or so close.

  "I am unworthy of seeing my angel," Rotha said to Valhalla. "I am weak, and my heart is filled with shame."

  "I am unworthy of seeing my angel," Paulo said, so that all could hear. "I have hatred in my heart."

  "I have loved many," Rotha said. "But spurned true love."

  "I have nourished hatred for years, and avenged myself over things that were unimportant," Paulo continued. "I was always forgiven by my friends, but never learned how to forgive them in return."

  Valhalla turned to face the moon.

  "We are here, archangel. The Lord's will be done. Our inheritance is hatred and fear, humiliation and shame. The Lord's will be done.

  "Why was it not enough simply to close the gates to Paradise? Did you also have to cause us to carry hell in our hearts? But, if that is the will of the Lord, you must know that all of humanity has been doing his will for generations and generations."

  Then Valhalla began to stride in circles around the couple, chanting.

  "THIS IS THE PREFACE, THE SALUTATION.

  "Praised be Our Lord Jesus Christ, forever may he be praised.

  "Guilty warriors are speaking to You.

  "Those who have always used the best weapons they have--against themselves.

  "Those who deem themselves unworthy of blessings. Those who believe that happiness is not for them. Those who suffer more greatly than others do.

  "Those who arrived at the gates of freedom, gazed at paradise, and said to themselves: 'We should not enter. We are not deserving.' They are speaking to You.

  "Those who one day experienced the judgment of others, and concluded that most of them were right. They are speaking to You.

  "Those who judge and condemn themselves. They are speaking to You."

  ONE OF THE VALKYRIES HANDED THE BELT TO VALHALLA, and she raised it toward heaven.

  "This is the first element: Air.

  "Here is the belt. If we are that way, punish us.

  "Punish us because we are different. Because we have dared to dream, and to believe in those things no one else any longer believes in.

  "Punish us because we challenged what exists, what everyone else accepts, what most others want to remain unchanged.

  "Punish us because we speak of faith, and we feel hopeless. We speak of love, but we receive neither the affection nor the comfort we feel we deserve. We speak of freedom, and we are prisoners to our own guilt.

  "Lord, even were I to raise this belt high, high enough to touch the stars, I would not touch your hand.

  "Because your hand covers our heads. And it caresses us, and you say to us: 'Suffer no more. I have already suffered enough.'

  "You say to us: 'Like you, I dreamed, and I believed in a new world. I spoke of love, and at the same time, asked our Father to end my ordeal. I challenged what was. What the majority cared not to change. I thought I was wrong when I performed my first miracle: changing water to wine, simply to enliven a party. I felt the hard stare of others, and I shouted, "Father, Father, why have you forsaken me?'"

  "'They have already used the belt on me. You need suffer no more.'"

  VALHALLA THREW THE BELT TO THE GROUND, AND scattered sand to the wind.

  "This is the second element: Earth.

  "We are a part of this world, Lord. And this world is filled with our fears.

  "We will write our sins in the sand, and it will be the desert wind's task to scatter them.

  "Keep our hands strong, keep us from ceasing to struggle, even though we judge ourselves unworthy of going into battle.

  "Make use of our lives, nourish our dreams. If we are made of the Earth, the Earth is also made of us. Everything is only one thing.

  "Teach us and use us. We are forever yours.

  "The Law was reduced to one commandment: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.'

  "If we love, the world changes. The light of love scatters the darkness of guilt.

  "Keep us strong in love. Make us accept for ourselves the love of God.

  "Show us our love for ourselves.

  "Require us to seek out the love of others. Even with fear of rejection, of severe glances, of the hardness of heart of some--do not permit us ever to give up our quest for love."

  ONE OF THE VALKYRIES HELD OUT A TORCH TO VALHALLA. She lit it, and held up the blazing torch to heaven

  "This is the third element: Fire.

  "You say, Lord: 'I came to set fire to the Earth. And I am watchful that the fire grow.'

  "May the fire of love grow in our hearts.

  "May the fire of transformation glow in our movements.

  "May the fire of purification burn away our sins.

  "May the fire of justice guide our steps.

  "May the fire of wisdom illuminate our path.

  "May the fire that spreads over the Earth never be extinguished. It has returned, and we carry it within us.

  "Prior generations passed on their sins to succeeding ones. Thus has it been, down to our fathers.

  "Now, th
ough, we will pass forward the torch of your fire.

  "We are warriors of the light, this light that we carry with pride.

  "The fire that, when kindled for the first time, showed us our faults and our sins. We were surprised and frightened, and we felt ourselves to be incapable.

  "But it was the fire of love. And it consumed what was bad in us when we accepted it.

  "It showed us that we are neither better nor worse than those who frowned at us.

  "And for this we accept forgiveness. There is no more guilt, and we can return to paradise. And we will bring with us the fire that will burn on earth."

  VALHALLA INSERTED THE TORCH INTO A CREVICE IN THE rocks. Then she opened her canteen and spilled a few drops of water on Paulo's and Rotha's heads.

  "This is the fourth element: Water.

  "You said: 'Whoever drinks of this water will never thirst.'

  "Well then, we are drinking this water. We wash away our sins, for love of the transformation that is going to shake the Earth.

  "We will hear what the angels say, we will be messengers of their words.

  "We will do battle with the best weapons and the speediest of horses.

  "The gates are open. We are worthy to enter."

  "LORD JESUS CHRIST, WHO SAID TO HIS APOSTLES, 'MY peace I leave you, my peace I give you,' do not look at our sins, but at the faith that animates your assembly."

  Chris knew that passage. It was similar to one used in the Catholic service.

  "Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world, have pity on us," Valhalla concluded, untying the kerchiefs that joined Paulo and Rotha.

  "You are free."

  Then Valhalla approached Paulo.

  The sting, thought Chris. Now comes the serpent's sting. It's the payment. She's in love. If the Valkyrie tells him what the price is, he will pay with pleasure. And I won't be able to say a thing--because I'm just an ordinary woman, and I know nothing about the laws in the world of angels. None of them knows that I have already died many times here in the desert, and been reborn so many times, as well. They don't know that I have been speaking to my angel, and that my soul has grown. They're used to me, and they know how I think. I love him. She is only enamored.

  "Now, it's you and me, Valkyrie! The Ritual That Demolishes Rituals!"