The Jealous God

by Brendan Carroll

  “Good morning, Luke.” She said absently as she balanced the tray of food, she was apparently taking up to Catharine de Goth, on her hip. He stopped to catch the butter dish, as it slid precariously close to the edge of the tray, and his hand wrapped her own.

  “Gud mornin’, Miss Merry.” He smiled at her, and she nearly dropped the entire tray on the floor.

  “Mark Andrew?” She frowned at him.

  “Aye?” He stopped to look back at her.

  “Where are you going?” she asked in amazement.

  “To meet with th’ Master,” he told her. “Why?”

  “Oh, nothing.” She nodded and blinked at him. “I like that… yellow.”

  “Thank you.” He left her on the balcony. The meeting would be in the hall, and he wanted to be there first for a change rather than last or right on time as was his usual custom. Time for a change. He sat down on the left side of the long trestle table and then reached across, switching his cup with that of Lucio Dambretti.

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  Merry climbed the stairs slowly, and then took time to look over the balcony railing at Mark Andrew, as he took his seat at the table in the hall below. She shook her head slightly, and then made her way on up the stairs to the roof. She had a bit of difficulty navigating the roof with the heavy silver tray. She usually brought her gifts and provisions in baskets, but this morning was special.

  Catharine was up and out on the roof, walking along the parapets, when Merry climbed down the steps on the inner wall. The woman came to help her with the tray, and they entered the chapel together.

  “A beautiful morning,” Catharine commented as they set up the breakfast on her little desk. “It is so kind of you to bring this.” Catharine admired the silver service and unwrapped the precious tea bags, the last of the dwindling supply of imported teas on the island.

  “This is a fine day to begin my new life,” Merry said brightly. There were now two chairs in the sanctuary. Lucio had sent up another after his visit the night before. They pulled the chairs up to the table and sat down. “I am ready to begin my education, Catharine. I want to understand everything. I want to make Luke a good wife, and I want to be of service to him rather than a burden.”

  “That is a good start, Meredith,” Catharine said. “A King should have a helpmate in the form of his Queen. She should always work to further his causes, and he should always listen to her tempering effects. Your Luke Matthew has a volatile temper. He will need a buffer in order to keep him from folly.”

  Merry had to smile as she remembered her husband’s most recent tirade, wherein, he promised to kill King William Henry’s entire family in the town square.

  “In the elder days, the King of Scots, Robert Bruce, suffered a great deal of trouble, because the King of England’s wife died and left him without her tempering effect on the king’s darker side. If the Queen had lived, Scotland’s history might have been far less bloody. Men have a tendency to hang on to old grudges, but women tend to be more forgiving and willing to sacrifice pride for the better good. It is the rare man, indeed, who can lay aside old grievances, in order, to make the right choices. My brother is a prime example, as is, the Grand Master of your husband’s Order. But, I understand, there was a meeting in Germany or Switzerland, wherein, they agreed to lay aside their personal differences for a time.”

  “That is what Luke told me,” Merry agreed. “They didn’t come to any conclusions concerning the immediate future, but they did agree to meet again.”

  “That is another good start.” Catharine placed a scone on one of the dishes and handed it to her guest.

  “I don’t think we have a lot of time,” Merry told her. “I don’t know what is happening. I saw Mark Andrew just now on the balcony and he was dressed in his family kilt. I thought, he was Luke Andrew. I’ve never seen him in such bright colors. He is truly a beautiful man.”

  “Beautiful?” Catharine laughed. “Of course. He is beautiful to any who might see beyond his temper. But, the coral snake is beautiful, as well. It would not be wise to handle one.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.” Merry’s eyes widened.

  “Good.” Catharine leaned back in her chair. “Are you sure, you are ready for this? Did you meditate on what I showed you?”

  “I did as best I could. Of course, I had to spend time with Luke. He was in a very dark mood, but I think he feels better now. He blamed himself for the deaths of some of the Templar brothers.”

  “A good sign. He is compassionate and capable of empathy. You must see he does not become overly vengeful and cruel. Revenge is better left to the gods, Merry. They can exact it with more precision.”

  Merry nodded again. “By gods, you mean angels, don’t you?”

  “Yes. Angels and demons, depending on your personal point of view. An angel of destruction would be considered a demon by those whom he destroys.”

  “You say ‘he’. Are angels then male?” Merry asked as she spread jam on her scone.

  “Angels are neither male nor female, but both. One and the same. They may appear to be either or neither, again, depending on your personal point of view.”

  “And, they say Mark Andrew is an angel. Is that true?”

  “He is many things, and angel would not exactly cover them all. He would be considered a demiurge by some. Children of the gods, those gods, being the sons and daughters of the Creator, the Divine One. The Shining Ones of old. Mark Andrew was once a man, somewhere in the dim and distant past, but he is possessed, for lack of a better word, or perhaps, indoctrinated or initiated into the circles of the Shining Ones. What you see is the remnant of what he once was. He apparently likes the form, I would have to assume, since, he could take any other he chooses at any time.”

  “I see. Then, he truly was Andrea Larmenius, and she is just simply part of him?”

  “You know of Andrea?” Catharine was surprised and then closed her eyes briefly before continuing. “I would ask you keep this knowledge confidential for obvious reasons. You do have some measure of feeling for Lucio. He does not know the truth about her. It will be revealed to him in time.” Merry nodded, and Catharine smiled. “How did you come to know this?”

  “Semiramis told me about her.”

  “Ahh. Semiramis. A creation of Mark Ramsay’s designs. It is not good to delve into such things. I’m sure his motives were simple at the time. He was most likely lonely.”

  “Lonely? And so, he just creates a woman for himself, because he is lonely?” Merry still found the entire concept hard to believe.

  “Not exactly. Semiramis could not be considered a woman in the pure sense of the word. Mark Ramsay was… precocious.”

  “Precocious!” Merry almost choked on the word.

  “He meant no harm,” Catharine said and smiled, and then, bit her lip. “I know it sounds a bit far-fetched, but it is difficult to describe what was done in words without sounding ridiculous. His father was as tolerant of him, as our own fathers are tolerant of favored sons. You have to admit he is quite charming. Besides, the world was vastly different then, than it is now. It is actually quite cozy now compared to then. You could say, he was lonely, yes. He was tempted, and he failed the test. In that respect, he is no different from the rest of us.”

  “Like the serpent in the Garden of Eden, no doubt!” Merry sipped her tea.

  “Precisely! In fact, that very legend was a direct result of Mark Andrew’s tamperings in the affairs of men.”

  “Oh, my God!” Merry put the tea down. “Don’t tell me Mark Andrew is the one who gave Eve the Apple?”

  “Sort of, yes.” Catharine laughed softly and then sipped her own tea. “He brought knowledge to the men of Khem, and then, he traveled on to the east and into the valley of the Tigris and Euphrates, spreading his teachings. Little did he know, his evil uncle, Enki, would take advantage of man’s newly acquired knowledge to take advantage of their baser natures. After a few hundred years, Mark Andrew, in the form of Uriel, had
to accompany Melchizedek to Sodom and Gomorrah to try to correct some of what Enki had done. And later, he was sent to Babel against his own brother, Nimrod. You would know Nimrod as Marduk. At the time, Marduk had abandoned his own father’s ways to follow his uncle, Enki.”

  “Enki,” Merry eschewed the word. “I have heard of this name. Writers like to use it in novels and such. I thought, he was an Egyptian god or some such.”

  “Egyptian, yes. Sumerian. Babylonian. Akkadian. Phoenician. He was into everyone’s business then. Even the Jews followed him.”

  “The Jews? The Israelites?” Merry was puzzled by this. “I thought they followed Yahweh.”

  “Yahweh… Enki. One and the same.”

  “No! Yahweh is God. Yahweh and Allah. The One True God.” Merry dropped her half-eaten scone in her lap.

  “Yahweh is not the One, Merry. Our Lord is the One True God. True in the sense our Lord, the Father, is the Creator of the Universe. Unknowable. His name, unutterable. The One True God, all-Powerful. Loving, kind and just. Our Lord.” Catharine’s eyes flashed. “And His Son. Melchizedek, Michael, Jesus Christ, Enlil, who follows in the way of our Lord. Our Savior. Our protector and our shepherd. Whatever name you care to give Him, only He follows His Father.”

  “Then the Jews followed this Enki, thinking he was the Creator?” Merry was astonished.

  “Exactly. Yahweh led them away from the Father. Jesus Christ came again, and again, to bring them back, and Yahweh’s sons, sometimes assisted the Son of God, sometimes hindered Him.”

  “No! Wait.” Merry held up one hand. “If I understand you correctly, you are saying Mark Andrew is Jesus Christ’s son?”

  “Not exactly. Mark Andrew, was once known as Uriel, a son of Enlil. You must understand, there are many incarnations of the same souls. Uriel was before Atlantis, and again, after Atlantis. Uriel became Thoth, the Atlantean. Then, he was Uriel again for a time, after that, he was Adar, Lord of the Seventh Gate, and then Hermes Trismegistus, and then Myrrdyn, and then Mark Andrew.”

  “Oh, my God!” Merry nodded as understanding dawned on her. “So, Mark Andrew can actually choose his time and place of incarnation.”

  “Mark Andrew is not subject to the same physical laws that bind men. He is of Holy Blood, as we describe it, in our limited language. Just because he is one of the Shining Ones, does not mean he is above failure. There is no such thing as a perfect being, other than Our Lord, the Creator and He is unknowable. Our Lord is so far beyond our comprehension, it is impossible for us to know Him. We can know of Him, but we cannot know Him. Even Uriel could not know Him. He encompasses the All. The Universe would fit in His hand if He had a hand.”

  “This is all so very confusing and awesome,” Merry said quietly. “No wonder you asked if I was ready. Now, I wonder if I am.”

  “Oh, I believe you are.” Catharine narrowed her blue eyes. “Or else you would not be able to ask the proper questions.”

  “You think so?” Merry’s face lit up.

  “I know so.”

  “Let me see, then.” Merry leaned her chin in her hand and frowned. “Then, Mark Andrew could become Myrrdyn again?”

  “Probably not. Myrddyn was born of a woman, just as Mark Andrew was born of a different woman, but he was his own father.”

  “His own father,” Merry nodded. “Then, he actually seduced these women, and then, when the baby was born, he was the baby?”

  “Exactly.”

  “What about Uriel? I thought Uriel was an archangel!” Merry asked her next question.

  “And so he is.” Catharine began to peel one of the island’s last oranges. It was a bit soft and beginning to darken. “He could become Uriel again, because Uriel is a Child of Light. Spiritual in nature. He was not born of the flesh. He came into being before ever man set foot upon the earth.”

  “Ahh,” Merry nodded. “So Uriel is still present in Mark Andrew?”

  “Apparently so. That is how Mark Andrew became susceptible to what Lord Shammash, his brother, did to him at Semiramis’ bidding. Lord Shammash was enamored of Semiramis long ago. He tried on more than one occasion to entice her to his own gate, but she was in love with Adar. She, like Sister Meredith, did not realize her own origins. Creatures like us, born of the flesh, do not remember our past lives so very well. We do not exactly start over every time, but we have no clear image of what our previous existences were. Mark simply never told her where she came from, and apparently, she never asked. It was the same with Ereshkigal. Only Galynndwynne knew of her own beginnings. Every time Mark Andrew tried his hand at the Art, he tried different approaches. None of them were perfect, of course. Galynndwynne surprised him entirely, I believe. He did not want to have another Ereshkigal, and he did not want to make the same mistake he had made when creating Semiramis and Diana from Marduk, and so, he tried to create a female who would encompass both light and dark and have the ability to control her own will, but Galynndwynne, like Andrea Larmenius, had flaws. She appeared as a hideous hag during the day and a beautiful woman by night.”

  “Really? And who is her other half?” Merry perked up. She had heard of Galynndwynne. The elves had spoken of her, calling her a witch or sorceress.

  “She was known by many names. She was called the Morrigan by day and the Corrigan by night.”

  “Corrigan? As in Carlisle Corrigan?”

  “Yes. She is his mother, and he is the son of Nebo, the brother of Simon of Grenoble. She left the underworld long ago, but returns sometimes to help in times of great peril. She does not want to be reunited with Nebo.”

  “And Nebo is Edgard d’Brouchart, right?” Merry smiled.

  “Exactly,” Catharine nodded.

  “Did you know who he was when you first met him?” Merry frowned.

  “No. He was a dashing young Knight of astonishing beauty. Very rich! Very wise for his age, I thought. I had no idea he was so old at the time. He looked very much like Carlisle Corrigan, only taller. I fell in love with him, the moment I saw him.” Catharine leaned forward and drew one leg up in the chair, wrapping her arms around her knee. She smiled as she recalled those days so long ago. “I thought he had bewitched me, and I may have been right.”

  “But, why did he change his looks?” Merry asked her. “Surely, he could have stayed handsome.”

  “Beauty is not always an advantage,” Catharine told her. “For example, when Nanna was incarnated as John Paul and he found Michele, he loved her to distraction. He had never loved a human woman before. When she died, he could not bear it, and so, he allowed himself to grow old and, finally, experience death of a sort. Only after he had spent a great deal of time in the First Gate, nursing his wounds, did he return to this world to reclaim his other half, Meredith Sinclair. By the way, he learned the trick from Adar. Nanna was always a great philosopher.”

  “He spent a great deal of time just observing and thinking. His Father had sent him to the east to teach the barbarians, in much the same way as Adar or Thoth was sent to Khem, but he left them after a while and tried to return to his planet, the Moon. His Father became angry with him and that is when he and the others, Shammash, Nebo, Nergal, Marduk and Adar were confined to the Gates of the Watchers.”

  “In the beginning, there were only six Gates. Mark Andrew constructed the Third Gate between Nebo and Shammash for Ishtar or Semiramis, as you know her. This further disappointed Enlil, and he allowed Semiramis to leave the Abyss and take up residence in the Hesperides because of her ignorance and innocence. Naturally, she did not stay in the Hesperides, but made her own way upon the earth for a time, trying to become something she could not be… human. It is the failing of the Sons of Light… and the daughters.”

  “How do you know all of this?” Merry asked one final question.

  “My people kept the ways of old from the days of Noah, and when the Christ came to us, we accepted his teachings in their pure form. He led us back to Enlil and away from Enki. We were cursed by the Jews of whom we descended, as pagans. Later
, we were cast out of the ‘promised land’ on the same grounds.”

  “You have heard it said and it is written God, Yahweh, is a jealous god? There was never a truer thing written of Him. He was jealous, full of anger and hatred for mankind. He did not endear his followers by being a loving father or shepherd to them, but rather by fear of retribution. Fear the Lord! How many times have you heard this? And yet, it could never be reconciled with Love the Lord, thy God, with all thy heart and all thy soul. How could you live in fear and love at the same time? It would be comparable to living as many battered wives have done. Do you really suppose a woman whose husband beats her regularly can truly love that man? They may be confused and think he beats them out of love for them, but do you… can you adhere to such a doctrine?”

  “No.” Merry lowered her eyes. She had had several terrible fights with Luke Matthew, and she had provoked him into striking her, but her guilt at having provoked him had overridden the fact he had done it. The concept was the same, but a one time thing was not the battered wife syndrome. If Luke Matthew made a habit of it, she would not stand for it. Surely, he had not loved her when he had struck her down, and she had not loved him when she had provoked him to violence. But, these lapses could only be compared to something like temporary insanity. “The heat of passion brings much woe,” she muttered to herself. “I believe, I can fully understand it, but I do not support it.”

  “Of course. We all go through the entire gamut of emotional reactions when confronted by extreme circumstances. Anger is a most deadly emotion. And again, we come to a paradox when we admit, we always hurt the ones we love, but these incidents are not lasting states of existence. We are remorseful, sorry, penitent, whatever you wish to call it, afterwards, and we would do anything to make up for our transgressions, if we truly love someone. It does not erase what we did, but it is inevitable even the gentlest of souls will become provoked if the right pressure is applied to the right spot.”