Comes a Horseman

by Robert Liparulo

  They gaped at him.

  “Yes, I’m one of those. The Catholic Church has always had someone in my position, because the church should be among the first to recognize the beginning of the end, don’t you think? In fact, most religions and some large governments like your own employ scholars who watch and wait and study the texts in order to watch and wait better.”

  “What do they hope to accomplish?”

  “To be on the winning team. To not be blindsided by a sudden shift in political power. To hedge their economies against the financial pull of Antichrist’s interests. There are as many reasons as there are watchers. Scripture says this man will be like no other who has ever walked the earth. Eventually, he will even perform miracles, because Satan will possess him and give him power. Scholars have long accepted the idea that this man’s presence will create a sort of gravitational pull on everything human. Religions and armies, whole industries and societies will flow toward Antichrist and orbit around him. It will start slowly but gain speed and force.”

  Brady said, “I understand the Bible enough to know the influence Antichrist exerts on the world is so strong it leads to Armageddon, mankind’s final battle. I just never considered what that meant in practical terms.”

  “There are certain people who do consider it,” Ambrosi said. “All the time, from childhood on. Rich, powerful people. Their organization—their secret society, if you like—was formed a thousand years ago. Collegium Regium Custodum et Vigilum Pro Domino Summo Curantium. Literally, the ‘Royal Order of Guardians and Watchers for the Supreme Ruler.’ Now they’re known simply as the Watchers.”

  “Excubitor,” Alicia whispered, looking at Brady with wide eyes.

  Ambrosi’s eyebrows shot up. “Yes, one of their early monikers. Where did you learn it?”

  “There’s a theory that the group spirited away an entire Norse village, called the Western Settlement, in the 1300s.”

  “Ah, yes . . .” The old man rubbed his chin in thought. He appeared to come out of a memory and continued where he’d left off. “The group accumulated more power and wealth than any other private entity in history. I don’t know if the Catholic Church is wealthier; certainly, it is less powerful, if power is defined by political influence. The only thing the Watchers want, all they have ever wanted, through forty successive generations, is to hand over the Church’s vast resources to the one true Antichrist.”

  “Why?” Brady asked, deeply perplexed.

  “Collegium Regium Custodum et Vigilum Pro Domino Summo Curantium started as a religion in the 1100s. Trying to understand why people believe what they do is a futile effort, but the founding members had backgrounds in Satanism, Zoroastrianism, and primarily, a sect of Gnosticism known as Cathari. The Cathars professed adherence to Christian theology, but they believed the only way to achieve divine form and spend eternity with God, as God, was through the end of humankind. For this reason, they developed an unhealthy interest in Antichrist. Pope Innocent III recognized the danger and in his wisdom”— Ambrosi shook his head—“had nearly all followers of the movement slaughtered. The survivors recruited several like-minded people of great power and wealth and formed the Watchers. Since Antichrist was identified in Scripture as the being who brings about the destruction of all humans, they got it into their heads that the most spiritual thing they could do was help him achieve his purpose. They figured that Antichrist’s goals—as stated in prophecy—would require vast amounts of money and manpower and political influence. Most of them were already extremely wealthy. They pledged to build their fortunes and clout and to de liver these to Antichrist when he appeared, no matter how long the wait.”

  While speaking, Ambrosi had sauntered to one of the crescent tables, pulled a sheet of rolling paper from its package, creased it down the middle, and sprinkled in a line of tobacco, which he stored in a humidor. While a slight tremor still haunted his hands, they were much steadier than they had been in the chapel. Brady wondered again if there just might be something with more relaxing properties than tobacco in that “beloved blend from Lecce.”

  Ambrosi rolled the paper tight and sealed it by moistening the edge with his tongue. He felt for his lighter.

  Brady realized he was still holding it. He walked over, lit the cigarette, and handed him the lighter.

  The old man pulled in a lungful, savoring the taste. He blew it out and continued.

  “Each generation reared its children to take their places as leaders in society and as Watchers. Some families lost their wealth and influence, and with a few exceptions, they were replaced by whoever at the time had the gold and could be converted to their ideology. Eventually this group of twelve became strong enough to ensure that none would lose their status. They learned to help each other through difficult times, staying loyal even if it took several generations for a family to bounce back. Each member of the current group can trace his or her heritage as a Watcher back at least eight generations. Through the years, there have been rumors of infighting. Aside from differing opinions about Antichrist candidates, the primary cause of contention appears to be that some Watchers are not content to relinquish their assets for mere ideological rewards. They want positions of power in Antichrist’s cabinet—or whatever his body of advisers will be called when the time comes. Even so, every Watcher takes his duties very seriously.”

  “There are only twelve?”

  “Twelve who sit on the Council of Watchers. The ones with the money and power. The order itself has tens of thousands of members. Each must pledge fealty to Antichrist and to the Council in his stead. In addition, they must give their oath to abide by a strict code of conduct. They must contribute to the coffers, according to their ability. They must protect the secrecy of the order. They must rear their children in the ways of the order.”

  “It’s a cult,” said Alicia.

  “Very much so.” Ambrosi removed his cigarette, looked at it, and then stabbed it back into his mouth. “The most valuable contribution each member makes is of his talents. And among their numbers are those with dubious skills. Spies. Thieves. Assassins.”

  He let these last words hang in the air like the slowly dissipating tendrils of smoke.

  Alicia walked to one of the window slits and peered out. The sun was going down, bruising the sky with shades of purple.

  She sighed, turned around. “Okay,” she said. “There’s a guy out there who thinks he’s Antichrist, and there is a group of fat cats who have nothing better to do than wait for the Antichrist to come along and take their money.” She glanced at Brady, turned to Ambrosi, and opened her hands. “What does any of this have to do with us?”

  “Everything,” Ambrosi said. “And you have to know it, if you expect to face your enemy and survive.”

  The cardinal’s eyes sparkled in the lantern light. He was in his element, explaining what he had spent a lifetime learning. He moved slowly to a bookcase. As he walked, he crushed out his cigarette in his palm, then brushed it to the floor. From a sagging chest-high shelf, he pulled an eight-inch- thick, leather-bound volume. Holding it in both arms as though it were a baby, he carried it to St. Francis of Assisi’s doughnut table and thunked it down.

  “Come, the both of you,” he said, lifting the volume’s cover. “Take the only weapon I have to offer. Knowledge of the Beast.”

  65

  The pages were vellum, thick and brown and curling at the edges. A smell like fine leather and dust wafted off them. The words on the first page had faded into the darkening animal skin. Squinting, Brady could make out just enough to realize he was looking at Latin written in longhand. Centered at the top was the official name of the Watchers. Under that were a signature and a date—1564. The year Michelangelo died.

  “This is a record of Watcher activity for the past five hundred years,” Ambrosi said. “The first six pages were inscribed by my predecessor, fourteen times removed. There are two earlier volumes, but they are in the archive’s climate-controlled vaults, each page preserve
d in a silk-screen sheath.”

  Neither Brady nor Alicia could read Latin or Italian, so the book’s value to them was more theatrical than practical. Brady supposed Ambrosi could use it as a guide to the intelligence he should impart, but he seemed to know its contents by heart anyway. He hoped Alicia would not lose patience with the old man’s flair for the dramatic. When he looked at her, she appeared entirely engrossed in the lesson, even following Ambrosi’s gaze when it dropped to a page. Her investigator’s heart knew the difference between the trivial and the requisite.

  “A candidate comes to the attention of the Watchers usually through scouts, who recognize the fulfillment of prophecy in an individual. Some expected characteristics of Antichrist are nonnegotiable, such as his being a Gentile and a descendant of the Roman Empire. Others—left-handedness, that he will be in his forties when he comes to the world’s attention—are open to interpretation. Most candidates are eliminated from consideration very early in the vetting process. On average, the Council of Watchers gets ex cited about a candidate no more than one time per century. Which means two generations could go by without seeing any serious candidates. However . . .”

  Ambrosi flipped to the last written-on page.

  “Wait!” Alicia said. “Go back.”

  He did, until she said, “Stop.” On the page, surrounded by handwritten text, was a drawing of the sun with curving flames radiating from it and vertical lines filling the circle.

  “What is that?” she asked, stabbing the drawing with her finger.

  “You’ve seen it before?”

  Brady answered, “It was branded into the murder victims.”

  Ambrosi frowned at the drawing. “Every Antichrist candidate designs a symbol for his kingdom. This is Scaramuzzi’s; it is his swastika. It’s patterned off a medieval crest for Antichrist and embellished by Scaramuzzi. The twelve flames coming out of the sun represent the twelve Watchers. The ten lines within the sun represent the ten countries that will form Antichrist’s kingdom.”

  They stared at it for a moment, and then Ambrosi turned to a different page. On it appeared to be an organizational chart, with boxes and lines showing relationships and hierarchy. He tapped a rectangle labeled “Scaramuzzi.”

  “Every now and then a candidate fulfills enough of the prophetic program for the transference of assets to begin. Don’t ask me what ‘enough’ means. That can include subjective criteria, such as charisma and intelligence. At that point, the Council votes on a candidate’s probability of being the one true Antichrist. They give the candidate authority over their resources in direct proportion to the vote of confidence he receives. So a two-thirds vote of confidence theoretically means the candidate has access to two-thirds of the resources reserved for him.”

  Alicia snapped her head back, flipping the hair out of her face. “Theoretically?”

  “If he uses his resources unwisely, the Watchers can take them back. In the cases I’ve studied, the candidate has always tapped them cautiously, sparingly. Still, it represents enormous wealth and power. In 1921, when he was voted Führer of the Nazi party, Hitler had a nine-to-three vote in favor of his being Antichrist. That fluctuated over time.”

  Alicia shook her head as if she had caught a whiff of strong ammonia. “Hitler? What happened to the Roman heritage?”

  Ambrosi smiled at her disgust. “Hitler was born in Braunau-am-Inn, once part of the Holy Roman Empire and not far from Rome. Besides, anyone with a rudimentary understanding of Antichrist prophecy could blow holes in the cases of every serious candidate the Watchers ever considered. Usually the errors are only evident in hindsight. As is deception by the candidate. On top of that, there is the nature of prophecy itself. More times than not, it comes through dreams as symbols or allegory. How they are distilled into accepted prophetic visions is a story unto itself. Let us just say they offer a lot of wiggle room.”

  Alicia shook her head. “For all that money and power, I’d be deceiving and wiggling.”

  “You don’t have the capacity to be so corrupt,” Brady said. He thought about his own recent desire to be more so. “You’d have to be willing to slaughter innocents.” He raised his eyebrows at Ambrosi. “Right?”

  “Oh, I believe the candidate would have to eat children for lunch and their mothers for dinner. Psychosis is a job requirement. No, ordering deaths and bloodying his own hands would not bother Antichrist in the least. What would be bothersome, I imagine, is having the Council of Watchers over you. First, a treasure is splayed before you, but you can partake of it only sparingly. Next, a candidate with less than 100 percent of the votes is subject to the management and discipline of the Council. Like the ephori in Sparta: they had the authority to veto the king’s decisions and even remove him from power.”

  Alicia said, “Has anyone ever received a 100 percent vote?”

  “Never. I believe to get all the votes, the candidate would have to grow horns and spit fire.”

  Brady’s attention went back to the organizational chart. Above the Scaramuzzi box were twelve boxes lined up next to one another. Four contained handwritten names; in three were pasted photographs the size of postage stamps. He pointed at them.

  “The Council of Watchers?” he asked.

  “The twelve disciples,” Ambrosi said sarcastically.

  Brady ran his finger over them, reading. “Vajra Kumar, Koji Arakawa, Donato Benini, Niklas Hüber. No other names?”

  “It is a secret organization.”

  “What are these?” He pointed to pencil marks, an x or a check over each box. Of the four named boxes, only Niklas Hüber’s bore an x.

  “The vote, as far as I know. I believe Scaramuzzi has secured eight votes. If the votes in favor ever fall below seven, he’s out.”

  “Out?”

  “In every case, the candidate has died or vanished.” He studied the chart as if concerned he’d forgotten something. After a minute, he said, “When, someday, the candidate does secure every vote, a great shift in power will occur. This box”—he touched Scaramuzzi—“will move up here.” He dragged his finger to a spot above the Council of Watchers. “Antichrist will have complete authority over the Watchers and their—now his—resources. At that point, the power can never shift back except upon the death of Antichrist.”

  He covered the chart with his palm.

  “Scaramuzzi has not achieved this,” he said. “It’s my guess he never will. Right now, he has only two concerns in the world: first, to keep the votes he has, and second, to change the minds of the Watchers who are against him. Every single thing he does is motivated by these two objectives.”

  “How can he change their minds?” asked Alicia.

  “Continue to fulfill prophecy.”

  “I don’t understand. How can anyone do that, unless he really is the person prophesied about?”

  “Essentially, there are three ways to accrue ‘prophecy points.’” Ambrosi smiled at the term. “The first is obvious: do what’s expected of you. In the case of Antichrist, it’s to rise to political power, which Scaramuzzi is doing. To those who see him only as a politician, he’s smart and persuasive and has some very intriguing ideas about Israel and the Middle East. He appears very peace-minded. He has to. Antichrist will become a world leader by virtue of a peace program. He is almost certain to win the Nobel Peace Prize.”

  “But peace is the last thing on his mind,” Brady said.

  “Except as a ruse to gain power. Eventually he will rule a federation of ten kingdoms, or countries. Most of us spectators believe this federation has already been established with the European Union, though it does not yet have a centralized leader. And it may not for a hundred years, but it’s there, ready for him.”

  “The countries of the European Union have been independent for thousands of years,” Brady said doubtfully. “Aggressively so. I can’t see them arraying under a single leader.”

  “And twenty years ago, who would have predicted that they would agree to a joint economic program tha
t required each to abandon its own currency for a shared one? At the airport, did you exchange your dollars for lira?”

  “Euros,” Alicia said, pulling the wad of bills out of her pants pocket.

  Ambrosi bowed his head, his point made.

  “But that’s different from a centralized government. Europe just hands its countries over to Antichrist?”

  “All but three of them do, according to biblical prophecy. Revelation 13 and 17, Daniel 7. He murders three leaders to take control. The Watchers believe he has already claimed his first.”

  “An assassination of a leader? Who?” Brady could not believe he was engaged in this conversation.

  “Santo Mucci.”

  “The Italian prime minister? That was, what, four years ago?”

  “Five. Prophecy does not indicate that Antichrist will assassinate three leaders and immediately step into their positions. That’s not the kind of person people would tolerate, let alone champion. Remember, during his rise, he is seen as a great peacemaker, a uniter, not a divider. To fulfill his destiny, his murders must eventually lead to his ability to rule the victims’ countries.”

  “And Mucci?”

  “Scaramuzzi was a grassroots leader in Italy. Prefect of Agrigento Province. But Mucci’s party did not think much of his ideas. He was too liberal. And his personal style, his ambition, rubbed the politicos the wrong way. After the assassination, Parliament held an emergency general election, and Silvio Bertoni was voted in. He was and still is an adamant supporter of Scaramuzzi’s. A Southerner like Scaramuzzi, and that matters very much here. He appointed him ambassador. It is quite possible that the Watchers have connections within the current regime to help facilitate Scaramuzzi’s continued ascent. Make no mistake: he will be our prime minister, and it will be because of Mucci’s assassination. One down, two to go.”

  “But I thought you doubted he was Antichrist.”

  “So what if he is not? If he pretends to be and he convinces the right people he is, do you think he will be much less destructive than if he were actually Antichrist? Scaramuzzi’s machinations may not lead to Armageddon, but they will most certainly cause untold death and destruction.”