Before Chris left Palace Beautiful, Prudence took him to a room full of protective equipment. There were shields, breastplates, and sturdy shoes beside the wall, in sizes large and small, all for travelers. He saw a sword and could not help touching its hilt, then quickly drew back his hand.
“Some enemies on the road want more than to frighten you,” Prudence said. “They will try to make you turn away from the Savior you trust.”
She had Chris try on a breastplate and helped him adjust its straps. She told him the sword was called Truth. It reminded people to tell lies from what was true. It must not be used to hurt people simply because they disagreed with him. Chris listened carefully before accepting the sword and shield.
The road down the hill led into the Valley of Humiliation. At first Chris walked quickly, thinking that now he had armor, he probably need not be afraid of anything. Just as he was about to show his shield to a little bird beside the road, his foot slipped and he landed in the mud. His armor had not watched the road for him.
Blushing, he got up, wiped the mud off his shield, and went on. The valley grew darker. A huge shadow blocked his way. The creature had wings and scales, and smoke came from its mouth. Its name was Apollyon, the Destroyer.
“A child from the City of Destruction,” it said. “You belonged there to begin with. Why did you run away?”
Chris tightened his grip on the shield. “I’m looking for the Savior. And I want to find a road for my family.”
The Destroyer laughed and spoke of the pear he had taken, the wrong road he had followed, and the scroll he had lost. With every word, Chris’s heart sank a little farther. He wanted to argue, but those things were true. At last he said, “I did them. And I admitted them. The Savior didn’t send me away because of them.”
“Then I’ll beat you back there myself!” The creature sprang forward, striking the shield hard. Chris stumbled backward and nearly fell. He wanted to run, but when he reached behind him he found that his breastplate protected only his front. He turned to face the creature again, raised his shield, and tried to stand firmly in the middle of the road.
The struggle lasted a long time. The creature urged him to drop his sword, promising gold coins, a fine house, and a way to win his family’s praise. Chris’s arms ached, and sweat covered his forehead. For a moment, he really did think that if he said yes just once, the pain would stop.
The sword fell. As the Destroyer’s shadow loomed over him, Chris caught the hilt and remembered the deep breath he had taken at the cross. “The one I ask for help is stronger than you!” he cried.
Truth shone in the darkness. The creature drew back, spread its wings, and finally disappeared at the mouth of the valley. Chris did not chase it or raise his sword in triumph. He sat on a rock, his hands shaking so badly he could hardly open his waterskin.
Someone from the edge of the valley brought clean water and healing herbs and helped bandage his scraped hand. Chris whispered his thanks and found tears falling again. His courage had not made him someone who could not feel pain. But he no longer thought that crying meant he had lost.
