A/N: An update for you! Forgive me for not completing it by Easter…One more chapter after this!
Chapter 3
For a long while, the only sounds were the soft sobs of the women at the foot of the cross. Then, one at a time, questions filled the air at what the people had just witnessed.
Samuel turned to his leader. "Is He truly dead?" the younger angel asked.
"His earthly body no longer draws breath," Michael said, quietly.
The stab of grief tore through Samuel, and he felt like he was choking. He fell to the ground, unforeseen sobs wracking his body against his will. He hadn't expected it to hurt this much. He felt Michael's hand on his back, and he remembered the tenderness the Son had shown him only hours before by wiping away his tears. How could such perfect, selfless love be dead and gone?
"Oh, Samuel," Michael gently consoled his younger brother. "The Son will never be truly dead. We must watch and wait, as we were commanded to."The words were comforting, but Samuel did not miss the apprehension also present in the archangel's voice. Even Michael was not sure of what was to come.
"Out of the way!"
A centurion with a long, deadly spear pushed his way through the crowd.
Samuel understood immediately who the man was. "…even Longinus, the spear-bearer. Their sins are all upon that cross," Lucifer had said.
Longinus looked up at the bodies now hanging still and silent on the crosses, then to the other soldiers awaiting a command. He was swift to give it.
"Break their legs."
The one holding a great wooden club had been waiting for this command. It would mean they could all go home earlier than expected. The soldier approached the first thief and raised the club. Even the centurion grimaced at the tortured scream that followed. The thief was dead moments later, and the soldier moved past the center cross to the other side, secretly hoping that he would not be required to offer the killing blow to the man who many were calling the Son of God. The other thief made no sound when his bones were shattered. He had already died. The soldier felt his hands shaking as he turned to the center cross.
"Let Him be! Have you not done enough already?" Samuel heard himself begging, though he knew that they could not hear him. He felt Michael's hand tense slightly against his back. Several other angels also lifted their voices in futile protest. They could not bear to see their Master's body further mutilated. Michael remained silent. He was one of the few who knew what had been prophesied.
The soldier raised his club once more, but the centurion stopped him.
"Not this one," Longinus said, and the soldier beneath him exhaled with relief, backing away. Longinus expertly lifted the spear, and John had just enough time to cover Mary's face before her Son's body was pierced once more. Samuel shut his eyes, but Michael watched the blood and water pour from the wound left in the Son's side.
"This is my blood, poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins…" the archangel quoted as he watched the Plan being fulfilled before his eyes. He bowed on one knee in worship, and the angels who were still standing bowed with him.
"Worthy is the Lamb," Gabriel said, solemnly recalling the first time he looked upon the infant who was born to die.
Longinus turned to the other soldiers and spoke: "Dead. Take them down and clear the crowds. Then you can go home to your pretty wives," he added with a smirk. The Roman soldiers brightened slightly and got quickly to work. Most executions lasted much longer than this one.
Two of the soldiers tentatively approached the center cross and raised a ladder.
"Wait!"
Two men came running up the hill, panting with exertion. The one who had spoken held out a scroll, which he offered to the centurion.
"I come with express permission from Pilate. The Nazarene's body belongs to me."
Longinus accepted the scroll and quickly unrolled it, examining its contents.
"Joseph of Arimathea?" the centurion questioned, looking up at the man before him dressed in the robes of the synagogue.
"I am he," the man responded.
Longinus nodded and studied the document once more. He handed it back to Joseph, satisfied with the official seal and signature.
"The body is yours. Shall we remove it for you?"
Joseph looked over at the soldiers roughly tearing the nails from the other crosses and unceremoniously dropping the bodies to the ground. His jaw tensed slightly.
"That is not necessary. We will get Him down ourselves," the other man, an older Pharisee, spoke up.
"You will get blood on your fancy robes," Longinus said, but he dismissed the soldiers at the Son's cross with a quick wave of his hand.
Joseph and the older man approached the cross with humility. Joseph climbed the ladder and carefully removed the nails from the Son's hands and feet. The Pharisee assisted in gently lowering the Son's body to the ground, where His mother's hands were there to receive Him.
No one stopped Mary as she went to cradle her son one last time before his burial. Her soft, silent tears were a surprise to Samuel. He had expected her to wail in sorrow, like the other women there. Instead, Mary began to sing a familiar lullaby.
"Lully, Lullay…" she sang over and over again, meaningless, yet soothing words. The remaining soldiers purposefully made themselves busy dealing with the other bodies and shooing the crowds away. They were unused to such displays of tenderness following the execution of a criminal.
"What will happen now?" Samuel asked, feeling suddenly weary in both body and soul.
Michael stood and looked around at his brothers and sisters, all still kneeling on the ground in their worshipful mourning.
"We will grieve. And we will wait," Michael finally answered. He could not think of anything comforting to say.
Soon after, the men and women who had loved the Son took Him from His mother's arms and bore Him away. The angels stood one by one and followed the group to a tomb half a mile from the execution site. Joseph and the older Pharisee who was with him wrapped the Son in strips of linen cloth and placed Him in the tomb, which had been carved out of rock. A large stone was rolled in front of the entrance, and the mourners reluctantly left to begin their preparations for the Sabbath.
The angels remained, wings folded tightly to their backs and heads bowed in sorrow. Michael broke away from the others, eager to speak directly with his Father in a still, quiet place. He found such a place under a dogwood tree a hundred meters from the tomb.
"Father," the archangel prayed, "I watched the Son suffer and die. More than that, I ensured it. Please, tell me I have not done wrong!"
"You have done as I asked."
Michael trembled with both anxiety and elation, as he always did when he heard his Father's voice.
"The others are broken in spirit," Michael said, his voice gaining strength. "You chose me to lead them, but I have never felt so powerless. What can I say to them to ease this pain?"
"Nothing."
The shock of this unexpected answer sent a shudder through Michael's body. It took several seconds for him to find his voice again.
"I…I do not understand, Lord."
"My Son is dead. This pain cannot be eased with words. It must be borne."
Michael could not breathe. He had approached his Father seeking comfort and assurance, not more pain. His tears, which had been threatening to spill over since the flogging, finally flowed freely, seen only by his Father. The archangel continued to weep for several minutes, feeling completely and utterly abandoned. Finally, his Father's voice returned, this time with the familiar warmth that Michael constantly longed for.
"Fear not, my child. Joy approaches, stronger than anything you have ever felt."
"Soon?" Michael asked, yearned, begged.
"Three days."
Even three minutes was too long, but Michael was reassured nonetheless.
"What are my orders?" he asked, sensing that the exchange was nearing an end.
"Send the others back to Galilee to wait. Leave only the young one, Samuel, at the tomb."
"I will do as you say," Michael responded.
The archangel returned the tomb and quickly conveyed his Father's instructions to the angels. They stood and spread their wings, eager to do what was asked of them.
"Not you, Samuel," Michael said as the younger angel moved to joined the others. "You are to stay here. Alone."
A/N: Thanks for sticking with me this far! Feel free to leave comments or suggestions, I really appreciate it!
-Samuel