“O John, you hear the trumpets of angels and the chitterings of devils. I very much hope you may know more of these impending horrors and the rising of Leviathan.”
The Elder sighed. “’I shall open my mouth to speak mysteries hidden from the foundation of the world.’ The end is the return of the beginning, and in the beginning was Leviathan, the father of the Elohim, which is to say, the gods. They trembled at his thrashings in the depths of Chaos and Old Night. They feared that he who had begotten them would turn and devour them. Then one of the Elohim, Yahve by name, stepped forth to issue a challenge to his elders: he would face the Dragon in pitched combat if they would vow to reward him with the divine throne. Being much afraid, they readily agreed.
“Yahve, who is also called Marduk and Indra, Aliyan Baal and Nodens, armed himself with many lightnings and went forth to harpoon the Dragon, he who is called Leviathan and Rahab, Tiamat and Vritra, Lotan and Cthulhu. Long did they struggle, until at last the warrior god imprisoned him in the Great Abyss, in his house at R’lyeh. Kings and priests and sages have sought to blot out these things from the memory of men.
“But scripture speaks of ‘those who are skilled to rouse up Leviathan.’ Certain cults have long wished to destroy a world in which they have no share. They crave a freedom from all restraints. When their ancient god returns, they, too, will be destroyed, but, being fools, they do not know their foolishness.”
“Who are these men?”
“Let the wise man reckon the number of the Beast, for it is the number of a man. His number is 666.”
Apollonius was quick with an answer. “I have learned from Pythagoras the deeper meaning of numbers. This is the sum of the name ‘Neron Caesar,” is it not? But he is dead nearly thirty years.”
“That is not dead which can eternal lie. Many believe that Nero’s foul spirit has retaken the throne of the Caesars under another name.”
Damis gasped, “Domitian!”
The Elder nodded gravely. “It was he who gave the order to confine me. And the angels tell me he is soon to unleash a great persecution against the saints. I have made an account of what I saw and heard and sent it to my seven congregations, directing each to make a copy to study during the terrible days to come.”
Apollonius pondered, “Why would the Roman Caesar seek to destroy his own realm? And how does he know the means to rouse up Leviathan?”
“Remember, O Apollonius, though he is called Domitian of the house of Flavius, the spirit that animates him is that of the Antichrist Nero. His own guards cut his throat. His desire now is for vengeance against the empire of the Tiber.
“As to how he knows the secret of releasing the monster,” and here a tear traced down his wrinkled cheek, “I fear I am to blame. May Christ forgive me on the day he comes in power to vanquish the Beast I have helped to unleash!”
Little surprised the sage of Tyana, but these words shocked him. “You? How?”
“I told you I wrote down what was revealed to me. There were many, many revelations that day. One of the most frightful was that of the Seven Thunders. I heard great thunderclaps, and in my spirit I discerned their meaning, and it was terrible indeed. Here was the secret of Leviathan and how to summon him. I hastened to write it down, as I had all the rest. But after I had sent my scroll to the seven congregations, my angelic guide rebuked me, saying, ‘Seal up what the Seven Thunders said! They are the crafty interjections of Satan!’ At once I sent word to the leaders of my congregations, ordering that they strike out the revelation of the Seven Thunders. Soon I learned that one of them defied me, a man named Diotrephes. He recognized the great danger of the forbidden oracle. But, being a man who enjoys nothing more than pre-eminence, he saw here a rare opportunity.”
Here the tired old man paused and covered his face in shame and pain.
“He promised his copy to the agents of the persecutor Domitian in return for protection and patronage. I am told Diotrephes remains in Pergamum, where Satan has his throne, but he will make for Rome as soon as his new master summons him there.”
“Then,” said Apollonius, turning to Damis, “we must find him before he gives the incantation to the Emperor.”
“I will pray for you, my new friends. You may have success, for, as you know, Pergamum will be in easy reach once you return to the mainland. I would offer you such accommodations as I myself enjoy, but I fear that, if the wrong guard should discover you here, you might become my permanent companions!”
***
The voyage was short and the journey took but a few days once they begged a ride with a wine merchant who had room in his wagon. Next they found an inn willing to let them bed down in the stable for as long as they needed shelter while they sought out the man Diotrephes. He was known as a tanner and a maker of sail-cloth, and they located his place of business, only to find it closed. Apollonius assured Damis, however, that there was another avenue they might pursue. The two of them trod the dusty streets, examining the ground in front of every door. It was a good two hours before they found what they were looking for: the rough figure of a fish traced in the dust.
“You recognize this, Damis, do you not?”
“It is the secret sign of our fraternity, whereby the brethren may know that a friend dwells here.”
“The Christians have adopted the sign of the fish for similar reasons, desiring secrecy at a time when the clouds of persecution gather. I am hoping that a Christian of Pergamum, one of John’s flock, may help us find this Diotrephes.”
Damis gave the door a vigorous knock. When it opened, a woman’s face peeked out from behind it.
“Whom do you seek, sirs? I do not know you.”
Apollonius answered, “I am sent by John of Patmos. My name is Apollonius.”
She opened the door wider and allowed her face and form to be seen, a matronly woman with long silver hair piled atop her head and held in place by jeweled combs.
“I have heard of you: the wizard from Tyana.”
With a slight smile, Apollonius replied, “I prefer the term ‘philosopher,’ but yes, I am he. I seek him who shepherded your congregation till recently.”
Suspicion darkened her expression. “You are not in league with him, are you?”
“No, my sister. In truth, we aim to prevent him from doing great mischief.”
She seemed relieved. “Now I know why Diotrephes forbade us to receive wandering strangers. Come in, good sirs. I am Maximilla.”
They reclined at table as their hostess directed one servant to prepare a meal and another to round up a few of her Christian brothers and sisters. When an hour had passed, two young mothers, their babies in tow, and an elderly man, arrived. Servants brought a modest spread, mainly fruits, cheese, and bread, with one pitcher each of wine and of water.
“It is a shame,” the old man offered, “about Diotrephes. A proud man. He began with a servant’s heart, but in time, as he was entrusted with ever greater responsibility, he lorded it over those who allowed him to. Come, let me show you the man’s folly.”
He led the group to a closed room in which the tiny congregation of Pergamum’s believers met each Sunday at dawn. There was a cupboard containing a few scrolls. Wall murals depicted scenes from the scriptures, and in front, on a pillar beside a lectern, was an expensive-looking marble bust.
Apollonius, admiring the workmanship, inquired, “Does this represent one of your prophets? Isaiah, perhaps?”
“No,” the old man replied. “It depicts the vain Diotrephes himself. He had it made and placed here.” Everyone laughed.
Apollonius came to the point. “And where is he now? John the Revelator believes Diotrephes plans a trip to Rome.”
“Plans?” said their hostess. “He has already departed.”
Damis looked as if she had slapped him. “When did he go?”
One of the young women said, “No one has seen him for two days.”
Apollonius, rising to his feet, said, “Thank you, my friends. You have been a great
help. Our quarry has a head start on us, but we may yet overtake him, I think.”
The party broke up and returned to their daily routines. When well out of sight of the house, the sage motioned Damis to follow him into an alley between two tenements.
“Diotrephes means to deliver the papyrus to Domitian in person, as we supposed. There is no time to waste.”
“I understand, master. But how are we to overtake him?”
“You will seek passage on a ship, as he did. As for me, I have other plans. And you cannot go with me now. We will find one another in Rome.”
Damis’ puzzlement turned into utter amazement when, away from all prying eyes, the son of Proteus vanished from his sight! In that moment he felt he had woefully underestimated Apollonius of Tyana, whose true nature he had now begun to suspect.
***
Apollonius appeared, though invisible to others, on the road leading into the city. In his unseen form, really a kind of mesmeric aura that simply kept all near him from noticing him, he passed through the gates of Rome amid a group of chained slaves destined for gladiatorial training.
He continued in the company of a set of white-clad nobles on their way to the Senate. Outside stood a mob chanting, “Increase the dole!” They shouted louder once they beheld the senators approaching. But these paid their complaining public no mind as legionaries appeared from nowhere to safeguard their masters’ passage. He watched the self-important mortals sitting on their marble benches and fine purple cushions and thought how like children playing games of pretend they looked.
He circulated among the senators once the session broke up, listening to discover who might have business with Domitian. It did not take long to locate what he sought. A tall, gaunt man with iron gray hair and a confident stride left the building, accompanied by a soldier. Apollonius followed him as he walked.
They passed a number of fine statues of previous Caesars as well as of the heroes and deities of Rome’s myths. There were Romulus and Remus, then another depicting Romulus in his exalted form as the god Quirinus. Next was Minerva, then Jupiter, Juno, Mercury, Hercules. Even the ancient Etruscan god Tinia found a place in the ranks of the petrified immortals.
At once, Apollonius halted and almost lost the concentration enabling him to evade their notice when he caught sight of him who had posed for a marble bust in far-away Pergamum: Diotrephes! How could the man have preceded him here? He, too, must have had some occult means at his disposal. The papyrus of the Seven Thunders must contain revelations beyond that which the Elder John had implied. Diotrephes must have studied the Satanic verses in some depth before arriving here. Had he already delivered it over to his patron Domitian? The little man slipped away into the shadows.
Entering the palace, the senator, his bodyguard, and an unseen third man proceeded to the station where an officer of the Praetorian Guard screened visitors. The tall man was expected; his name, Publius Janus Garba was at the head of the list. On they went into the presence of the divine Domitian. Had Apollonius not long ago eschewed the taking of life, this would have been a prime opportunity to rid the world of the wicked tyrant and the cataclysm he threatened to create. He was obliged to take a more indirect approach, and, for this, too, he faced a prime opportunity.
Domitian sat on his throne of judgment. His countenance was stonily impassive, as if it were only a ceramic vessel for an alien consciousness. Swathed in late afternoon shadow, his staring eyes were nonetheless easily visible. At first his unseen observer thought a stray bar of setting sunlight lay across them. But on closer scrutiny, Apollonius saw that the Emperor’s eyes emitted their own, rather baleful, illumination.
When the tyrant recognized his visitor he descended the steps from the dais and motioned Garba to join him on a luxurious couch. Domitian was very obviously disturbed. He glanced at his attendants who were just then lighting the bracketed torches around the audience chamber. When they were finished and left the room, Domitian again faced his confidant and resumed speaking his worries.
“I knew I should not have trusted the Christian apostate! My spies have learned that he plans to deceive me. He has decided to keep the true papyrus for himself and to give me a forgery that vitiates the crucial lines of the incantation! I confirmed this out of the mouth of the scribe whom the cursed Diotrephes paid to fabricate it. My torturers got to the truth quickly enough. They always do.”
The senator considered what he had heard. “My lord, I believe I understand your own intention, and you know that I am at one with you. As the high priest of the secret cult of Pluto, my goals are very much the same. I, too, wish to see the Titan Saturn, whatever we like to call him, rise from Galiyeh to sink the dry lands and raise up the sunken realms. If this man Diotrephes wishes to chant the invocation himself, how does that harm our plans? The same result will follow, will it not?”
“Let me tell you, my brother, what difference it will make! When Leviathan, Saturn, arises in his ancient glory, the man who releases him from the Bottomless Pit will rule the world as his vicar! That must be me! Of course, you will reign at my right hand. The Titan will rise in any case, that is true enough, but you and I must rise with him. So you see…”
The Emperor stopped mid-sentence and gaped at the sight of Apollonius the sage suddenly standing before him. Senator Garba leaped to his feet and tried to call for the guards. But he found he could not speak. That was Apollonius’ doing.
“Sires, you have naught to fear from this old man. But I think you will want to hear what I have to say.”
Domitian set aside the outrage that should have moved him to have this interloper seized and killed on the spot. He reasoned that a man who could thus reveal himself was likely someone privy to secrets he needed.
“Say on, wizard. We will hear you.”
“My lords, forgive me, but I fear you have fallen into the same error which has captured the upstart Diotrephes. The Being whose advent you avidly await cares naught for any mere mortals except as pawns, even you, the mighty of the earth. If Leviathan returns, there will be no one to rule over, no one human at any rate. He will have no need of you or of any viceroy. Do you not see that? You are seeking but to hasten your own obliteration.”
Both Romans sat in silence for a long time. Confusion and dismay marked their faces. It took no prophetic telepathy to see that the warning of Apollonius was nothing that had not occurred to them before, though neither had mentioned it to the other—or even allowed themselves to face the possibility. If justice is blind, it is no more blind than ambition.
Finally Domitian stood to his feet. His face registered an attitude of good-fellowship, almost certainly a feigned pose. He placed a powerful hand on Apollonius’ shoulder and looked him in the eye.
“I believe you are the renowned Apollonius, the magician from Tyana, a man with great knowledge of secret matters. I will consider what you have said. Meanwhile, allow me to provide you with an apartment here in the palace.”
By now the senator had regained his voice and gone to summon the guards. The Emperor pointed to two of them. “You, Septimus, and you, Gaius. Attend our distinguished guest. He will be with us for a few days.” Domitian said to him, “I will speak with you again when I have decided my next step.” Then he turned to Garba, placed his arm about the senator’s thin shoulders and walked away.
***
Some weeks passed as Apollonius, essentially under house arrest, redeemed the time with meditation to strengthen his abilities. He surmised that Domitian, paying no heed to his words of caution, was frantically searching for Diotrephes, hoping to seize the papyrus from him before he could use it himself. And why had he not? Perhaps the incantation was in some strange, glossolalic tongue difficult to pronounce correctly? If so, Apollonius could imagine Diotrephes’ fear of experimenting with the formula.
***
And it was even so. Shortly after his arrival in Rome, the scheming Diotrephes had sought out the Sybil, whose famed oracular prowess seemed to offer his best hope for
getting the conjuration right. But the would-be awakener of Leviathan came away from her grotto with only a cryptic prophecy:
Apollo’s spirit speaketh now:
To work the work he’ll show thee how.
Be sure thou speakest without fear,
And if thou dost, the god shall hear.
But Diotrephes reflected how this left him exactly where he was before! He supposed the Sybil meant to assure him that the exact pronunciation mattered less than the earnestness with which he uttered the spell. But how could he not be filled with apprehension that he was not speaking with no grain of doubt? Ah, it was all quite maddening! Just like that baffling promise of Christos that one might gain any desired boon if he prayed without doubt! As if it were possible to banish all qualms. A cruel joke, and so was this.
Did he dare go through with his plan? It might be too great a risk, and, come to think of it, perhaps an unnecessary one. Had he not already gained formidable powers with the aid of the papyrus, even from the lesser mysteries it contained? Perhaps this world need not pass away to usher in a new one for him to rule. Perhaps this one would be satisfactory…
***
Apollonius had the honor of a private interview with the Emperor, several such meetings in fact. Invariably Domitian’s polite conversations eventuated in offers to pay the sage to teach him the art of going unseen, as well as other abilities he rightly suspected his guest possessed. But Apollonius was steadfast in his refusals. Today, however, the tyrant tried a different lure.
“I believe, sir, that you have an assistant called Damis. At least I hope I am not mistaken, for I have gone to some considerable trouble to locate him. He is at present being held by my guards, awaiting your decision, even as I do. You are in a position to do a good deed both for your disciple and for your emperor, who himself asks only to become your disciple. Teach me what I wish to know, O Apollonius, or I cannot be too optimistic about your apprentice’s future. Septimus, you may bring him in now.”
The Praetorian Guards appeared with a manacled Damis in tow. He had plainly been pummeled, though recently washed, his cuts and bruises treated. Apollonius was both delighted to see his young friend and dismayed at the treatment dealt him. Damis made to greet his master, but one of the guards dealt him a silencing blow.
Tales of Cthulhu Invictus Page 14
