The Veritas Conflict (2 page)

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PROLOGUE

AT THE END OF THEIR LONG JOURNEY
, although they didn’t realize it, the new colonists made a declaration of war.

They poured off the longboat, fighting through the surf toward their new home soil. Men, women, and children stretched forward, crying out, flailing through chest-high water and the final seconds of their long journey. No one noticed the frigid temperature of the water, the sodden weight of their clothes. Every fiber was focused on one goal.

A young husband reached for his wife and son, pulling them close, muscling them through the throng toward shore. His heart stretched as if it would burst. “Almost there! O Lord, we’re almost there!”

With a jolt, he felt the sand grow firm under his feet. His wife broke free, scrambling forward.

“We’re home, David!” she cried.

He fell to the ground as if to a throne-room floor. All around him, the beach was filled with weary, exultant travelers on their knees, faces in the sand, laughing and crying.

David held his wife and son tight, kissing them, rocking back and forth.

“We did it.” His voice was choked. “
He
did it!”

His wife dropped her head to her hands. “O God of our fathers—”

“O God!” David’s voice came out in a whisper. “We can worship You freely!” His arm tightened around his young son. “Thank You that Gage will grow up in a land of promise.”

The boy squirmed and broke free, running along the beach, captivated by the new adventure. His mother got to her feet, but David grabbed her hand.

“Let him run, Grace. It’s been a long time.”

Her eyes flickered to a small knot of people standing a few feet away. Several watched the scampering boy with solemn expressions, and several didn’t watch at all. Grace turned away, pain on her face.

“It’s only been one week. To think that she died just seven days from—”

David put a gentle finger to her lips. “Dear one, they’re not second-guessing their decision. Each of us decided it was worth the risk, the sacrifice. What can we give that He has not already given?”

“Attention, everyone!”

Their leader had secured the longboat and was standing where the thin strip of sand melded into a tall forest. He held a weathered book in his hand. “We have a few hours of daylight left. We must get to work.” His eyes shone as he held the volume aloft. “And then we must get to prayer.”

Once the last were ashore and supplies were hauled to the makeshift camp, the group gathered at the tree line facing the dark ocean.

David stood with his wife and son, joining the hymns of praise as bonfires and torches flared around them. Despite the unfamiliar forest at his back, he reveled in the security of unconstrained worship.

The music died away, and David heard a rustling in the crowd as people began to kneel. He gripped his wife’s hand, and they knelt again on the sand. The stillness became tense with the presence of the Holy Spirit.

Their leader’s voice rang out, and every heart dedicated the settlement of the new land to God. They claimed the promise that had shepherded their long pilgrimage: “Seek and ye shall find, when ye seek me with all of your heart.”

The new colony—and later the new nation—would be founded firmly on the bedrock of faith in their Savior. The stake had been driven.

In the darkness high above the little group, where the flickering bonfires looked small in the blackness, two dark beings brooded. Their territory—held so long with little contest—was invaded, and they had finally withdrawn from earshot of words that pierced like cold fire. They glowered at the many luminous warriors surrounding the little group on the beach. More were arriving by the minute, adding to the numbers of those who had traveled the ocean with the saints of God.

The larger of the two watched each of the enemy arrivals and straightened suddenly as a close-packed convoy hovered directly over the saints—who, he was disgusted to see, were still on their knees. The demon lord gestured to his aide, who dropped down for a better view and returned within seconds.

“It is he.”

Without a word, both turned and made off into the night. A team of others took surveillance duty.

A giant with dark hair and serious features hovered above the praying leader of the puritans and received a report of his own. He thanked the messenger and glanced sharply skyward.

His lieutenant was at his side in an instant. “General, should we take action?”

“No. They would learn of my posting sooner or later.” Petras gazed into the blackness beyond the little group. He could sense hundreds—thousands—observing them. “They must have suspected we would make a stand here.”

Petras turned back toward the huddled group on the beach below them. The responsibility for these saints was his, and a fierce protectiveness stirred in his breast. He put a hand to his sword.

As the people moved quietly back to their camp, Petras took a deep breath and rose skyward. The host moved into position below and around him as he began to glow. Shining brighter and brighter, he rose above the tree line, moving over the ocean, casting a pure and fierce light over the camp of the saints. Like a beacon, the light pierced the darkness surrounding them, penetrating the territory that would be their stand.

Suddenly, the angelic host was struck with a holy dread, and every head bowed to receive the coming of the King.

The Son of Man stood among them, and the light of heaven became blinding. It exploded with power, reaching the entire breadth of the land that was to be forged into a new nation.

The angels watched, breathless, as the light penetrated each tree, each person, each blade of grass, with liquid intensity. Then, with a resonance that penetrated just like the light, the Lord spoke.

“They have asked, and I have answered. My covenant is with them.”

Instantly, the light vanished. The angelic warriors were suspended, silent. After a time, Petras stirred, his wings shimmering like gossamer threads against the darkness. His eyes were shining as he pulled his sword and held it aloft in salute to his Liege.

“The battle has begun.”

PART ONE
THE EARLY YEARS

I further entreat you, Sirs, to cease your praises to me, I am weary of the thanks; it is over doing; I fear it should hurt the instrument, and swell the pride of a naughty heart. Who am I? Christ is my all. Little, very little, I can do for his name’s sake, who has died for me and given me good hope through grace, and by his providence put in my power, and inclined my heart to this way among others, of expressing my gratitude for his name’s sake, to him be the glory of all.

A
LETTER FROM
T
HOMAS
H
OLLIS
,
AN EARLY BENEFACTOR OF
H
ARVARD
,
TO
P
RESIDENT
L
EVERET
, 23 S
EPTEMBER
1720

ONE

Mid-1600s

T
HE DARK LORD’S EYES CLOSED
, and his howl of frustration became a roar. At his outburst, his top generals exerted all their discipline to remain stone-faced and still. Their master began pacing, his heavy step shaking the very air of his dominion.

“When our persecution in England drove them not to simple flight and despair, but to establish an enemy stake on these shores, I knew this battle would be hard.” He shot a glance of malice at a high-ranking general assigned to Europe, who stared straight ahead.

“But our attempts at terror and increased hardship have only further driven these accursed people into the arms of the Enemy. And now I find out—” he swung on a recently arrived aide, who stepped back a pace—“that this new college will not simply be a center of learning, but is being dedicated to the quest for
heaven’s
truth in all the disciplines?”

The aide trembled a bit but nodded. “Yes, my lord. We believe so.”

“With what reason? What makes you think so?”

“The school’s … ah … 
motto,
my lord.”

“What is it?”

The others shared quick glances and looked for a way to avoid speaking the fatal words.

Lucifer grabbed the aide and jerked his face close. “WHAT IS IT?”

“ ‘T-t-truth,’ my lord.” The cruel fingers gripped convulsively, and the aide gasped in pain. “The university’s motto is
Veritas
—Truth. And they are pondering a change to
Christo et Ecclesiae
—‘For Christ and the Church.’ ”

Lucifer drew a taloned finger across the demon’s neck. The aide convulsed and, with terror-filled eyes, was drawn into a dark portal that opened just behind him. As it clanged shut on his strangled scream, those who remained could still feel the heat and fear that had blasted from the deep beyond.

Their lord didn’t turn to face them. “What shall we do to turn this tide?” he asked, then seemed to lose himself in thought. No one spoke. After several minutes, the dark lord stirred and looked up. “Well, they are searching for knowledge, are they? Searching for wisdom, for
truth
. Well, let them find it—
my
wisdom. I will show
them that
they
are the wise ones and that there is no truth.

“They want to establish a nation—a
Christian
body of believers. So how do you change the course of a body? You strike at the head, the mind. The heart may often be out of our reach, while their faith continues fervent, but the head … the head can give us a lot to work with.”

He surveyed his minions, taking his time, muttering to himself. His gaze settled on a tall demon, and he snapped his fingers. The demon was at Lucifer’s side in an instant, bowing long and deferentially. “Yes, my liege.”

“Leviathan, you have always been one of my most trusted generals, and I believe your expertise will be much needed here.”

The proud eyes flickered. “As you wish.”

“I realize that you are more accustomed to being prince over well-established and large-scale initiatives, but this is a strategic time. We must undermine their roots before their power is firmly planted. That will provide incalculable benefits for all the years to come. To put it simply, you wield our most effective tools, and we need your prowess here most of all.”

Lucifer continued, carefully hiding his satisfaction at using Leviathans own tools against him. “And I trust that in time you will find other areas in this new nation that will also be amenable to your efforts, just as you have in so many places before.”

The tall demon straightened, his chest high. “I will take delight, my liege, at demonstrating for our side the
proper
use of strategic tools.” He ignored an indignant outburst from the general over Europe. “I hope we may find an avenue to poison the course of this new land.”

Lucifer leaned toward his officer. “You already have it. That is why you were chosen. Wait no longer!”

Seconds later the guards posted outside the meeting room were bowled over as Leviathan shot like a comet through the door and began to muster his troops. One guard, a less experienced demon recently come up through the ranks, raised an eyebrow at his comrade-in-arms.

The other guard rubbed his hands together. “Get a good eyeful, my boy. If Leviathan has been assigned, this is going to be good.”

“Is … is he—”

“One of the seven deadly princes.”

The younger demon blanched. “Which one?”

The older guard smiled, a slow smile of anticipation as he watched the battalion take shape. “Pride.”

Many Years Later…

Laura Grindley watched her husband pace the length of the sitting room. Each lap seemed to increase his tension, winding him tighter than the strings in the harpsichord he thumped occasionally in passing. She remained silent on the divan, arms draped over a small pillow in her lap, stroking the satin brocade.

Finally, he turned to face her, and she opened her arms to him.

He knelt quickly in front of her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I’m sorry, my love. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. I have long sought to avoid dragging you into my burden.”

“Don’t be sorry. You are doing what God intends you to do.” Her hands stroked his thick hair as if he were a child. “You are standing in the gap, standing for what is right, for the truth. How could I not support the only strong beam that is keeping the foundations from crumbling?”

George Grindley hugged his wife fiercely then released her and stood. “I have to go. Whelen Pike will be at the board meeting today, and they will be voting. So I must at all costs be there.”

Two hours later, George breathed his third silent plea that the Lord would help him keep his temper … or maybe just that He would send down a lightning bolt and wipe the smug smile off the countenance before him. Either would do.

Whelen Pike was stirring sugar into his teacup. “After all, Mr. Grindley, I was asked to join this board to help whip the business affairs of the college into shape. No offense to the more established board members.” He nodded at the other faces around the table. “Or to those lost in the tragic accident at sea one year ago, God rest their souls. But perhaps … well, let us just say what we are all thinking, shall we? We need the bracing reality of true business acumen. We must restore order to the chaos in which we now find ourselves. Begging your pardon for that characterization, of course.”

George could see Kingsley, Edwards, and the others already assuming thoughtful expressions as they did all too often under the misleading but clever arguments Whelen Pike brought to the table.

Business acumen? Cleverly concealed fraud and confidence tricks! George had labored at trade, earning his fortune with integrity and pride. He had long sought to be the “trusted servant” to whom the Master would give ever more talents to manage, and his Master had indeed blessed his efforts. Pike, on the other hand, would pick the Masters pocket and show a doubled return by sleight of hand.