Stealing Sacred Fire

by Constantine, Storm

  Melandra reached out and took the weapon in her hands. It was warm, like the body of a basking snake. Pausing only for a moment, she grasped the gun in both hands, wheeled around and fired, crying, ‘In the name of God, die, you bastard!’

  She saw the red explosion, smelled blood and cordite and the hideous reeks held within the human body. She had killed him, blown him apart. For a moment, she bowed her head, and a few sobs of relief shuddered through her. She had returned to her god at the last moment, even though the perfumes of Babylon had clouded her mind. She had sinned, but He had heard her. ‘Have mercy upon me, Oh God,’ she said, ‘Wash me thoroughly from mine iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin.’

  The smoke purled away slowly to either side. The gunshot still seemed to echo and echo from the palace walls. Amytis and Tiy were mere smudges upon the evening, and the floating veils of the other women, who had come out into the garden, were less substantial than smoke. Melandra leaned against the urn, breathing heavily, as if she’d been running. She had done it: accomplished her mission. She felt light-headed in her success.

  Then the smoke cleared and he was walking towards her, the white of his gold-fringed robe unmarked. She should have known it would not be that easy to kill a demon.

  ‘You hold death in your hands,’ he said.

  Melandra expelled a sobbing shriek and tried to fire again, but the gun writhed in her hands. When she looked down she saw an enormous, shining black scorpion wriggling around in her hold, its sting lashing over her fingers. She threw it away with a cry of disgust. Illusions! Lies! What could she do? ‘Oh, God, I cry in the daytime, but thou hearest not; and in the night season…’

  Amytis’ women were all staring at her with wide eyes, as if they thought she was mad. I am, she thought. I am mad. She put her hands over her face and tried to gather her thoughts. In the chaotic darkness, she felt someone touch her shoulder and knew the touch was his.

  ‘No!’ She tried to pull away, but he would not let her go. She felt weak now, drained of energy and emotion, a child looking out through the back window of a long, black car, watching her life becoming smaller in its wake.

  Shemyaza dragged her hands from her face. ‘You are important,’ he told her. ‘You did not follow me here, but were drawn. You are not my executioner, but my protector.’

  Melandra shook her head wildly. ‘Don’t say these things! You are evil!’ She began to recite another psalm, ‘The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?’

  ‘Listen to me,’ Shemyaza said. ‘What you want and what I am are one and the same. I can be your sacrificed king.’

  ‘When the wicked, even mine enemies and my foes, came upon me to eat my flesh, they stumbled and fell…’

  Shemyaza held her wrists tightly, his thumbs pressing against the delicate skin where blood ran blue beneath its fragile integument. ‘Those words will not help you, Melandra. Listen to me. I have walked in the desert as the scapegoat, I have fallen from grace to atone for the sins of others and myself; for humanity, I have died a thousand deaths throughout history. The Roman Christian Empire distorted my image into a symbol of fear, through which they wielded control over the masses of humanity.’

  ‘No! No!’ Her voice rose in pitch, becoming feverish.

  Shemyaza leaned forward and kissed her brow. ‘Walk with me now, Melandra. I am your Christ, the slaughtered son of god. I am Tammuz, Adonis, Icarus. I am the Iblis and the Peacock Angel. I am love and its dark brother. I am Lucifer, son of the light.’

  Melandra opened her eyes. ‘Hide not thy face far from me; put not thy servant away in anger…’ She paused. The devil had such serenity about him. He looked upon her with the eyes of an angel who had never transgressed the laws of heaven. He was beautiful, and the beauty shone out of him rather than merely resting upon his body like a mantle. He was not like Jesus — he was not wholly good — she could see that, but what was good in him was pure and strong. The dark was the beast in him, the night and the abyss.

  ‘You have been ordered to kill me,’ he said, ‘but what you would really kill is all that is sacred within you.’

  ‘How can I believe you? If you are telling the truth, then all that I have ever believed is a lie.’

  He grimaced, and for a moment she saw fury in him. ‘We have both been lied to.’ He shook his head, as if to clear it of this anger. ‘In Istanbul, I gave you the fruit, but you are yet to acquire the taste for it.’ He leaned down and kissed her lips lightly, then let go of her hands. ‘Come with me to Egypt, Melandra. I, and my brethren, have work to do there, and we will need someone to be our eyes, ever alert for danger.’

  Melandra laughed nervously. ‘You want to hire me? To be your bodyguard?’ She raked a hand through her hair. ‘This is absurd! My task is to kill you. How could you ever trust me?’

  Shemyaza smiled gently. ‘Perhaps that is one of the reasons I want you to be there.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Melandra said. ‘I need to think…’ She looked up at him. ‘You don’t know how much I hate you for what you did to me.’

  ‘It was done to both of us,’ he answered. ‘You are intact, Melandra. I never came to you in the flesh. My spirit was dragged to you.’

  She frowned. ‘That is not possible. You felt… so real. It was real.’

  ‘Do not be angry,’ he said. ‘I am not denying you your experience. I merely want you to see that it was arranged for both of us.’

  ‘Who arranged it?’

  Tiy rustled forward. ‘There is something you must know, something I have only just told Shemyaza himself. Those men you work for, who are dedicated to ridding the world of the Grigori, they are ruled by a higher power.’

  ‘Yes, it is God!’ Melandra snapped.

  Tiy shook her head. ‘Oh no. Since your arrival here, I have visited the temple, Etemenanki, and breathed the smokes of dream to learn about you. I found obstacles, veils I could not rend, but today I broke through. What I learned is terrible indeed.’

  Melandra felt as if Tiy’s emotions were floating off her like a vapour, infecting Melandra’s own heart with disgust and shock. She felt breathless. ‘What did you learn? What?’

  Tiy paused, perhaps for effect, then spoke. ‘The Children of Lamech murder Grigori in the name of God, but its leaders defer to men and women whom they have never met. They believe these people to be senators and judges, individuals whose identity must be kept secret, but the truth is more sinister than that. Today, the sacred fire showed me that a hidden Grigori faction, who calls itself the Brethren of the Black Sun, rules your organisation. This dark fraternity is opposed to Shemyaza fulfilling his destiny, because it will destroy their power. The victims of your organisation’s assassins are Grigori, but individuals whose activities inconvenience the Brethren. They are one of many secret cabals within Grigori society, but they are perhaps the most dangerous.’

  ‘This cannot be true!’ Melandra cried. ‘You lie. Why would Grigori want to murder Grigori? It’s incredible.’

  ‘Girl!’ Tiy said firmly. ‘I do not lie. Men murder men, don’t they?’

  ‘This news is as calamitous for me as for you,’ Shemyaza said.

  Melandra shook her head. ‘But where is the evidence? I need more than just an old woman’s dreams.’

  ‘In your heart,’ Tiy said, ‘you know I speak the truth. In your homeland, the Brethren of the Black Sun sent a demon to fill you with fear. You saw it at your leaders’ headquarters, as you received the fatal instructions from them to kill Shemyaza.’

  Melandra stared at Tiy in mute shock.

  Tiy nodded at her, as if she could see the younger woman’s expression. ‘Oh yes, Melandra. Believe it. You and your colleagues have been, and are being, used by the very people you are sworn to eradicate.’

  Shemyaza took her hands in his own. ‘Nothing is as it seems, and that applies to both of us. I am not asking you to abandon your faith, for all faiths are one faith. I just want you to open your eyes and see that your directive to kill me is me
rely the hands and minds of dark Grigori at work, not God’s. There was no gun among the flowers, just the symbol of your fears, but if you had truly believed in it, and your god had been with you, it would have destroyed me.’

  Melandra rubbed her aching brow with shaking fingers. ‘I can’t believe you… I can’t!’

  Tiy came forward and laid her hands on Melandra’s arms. ‘We will go into the palace and find an empty room. There, we will all talk together.’

  Melandra stared at the old woman’s face. Her feelings were torn. Tiy’s claims were preposterous, and yet Melandra did not wholly disbelieve them. Some part of her wanted to co-operate and was curious about what else Tiy had to say, while another was chained to the creed of the Children of Lamech. If she gave in to what her instincts told her was right, she might only be damning her own soul. She knew Shemyaza was adept at seducing women. Seduction takes many forms and not all of them involve the body.

  Tiy shook her gently. ‘You know what is right, Melandra. But you are afraid.’

  ‘She must learn about the Chambers of Light,’ Shemyaza said.

  ‘Yes, my son,’ Tiy answered.

  Melandra threw back her head and searched the sky. I need a sign. Please, God, give me a sign of what is right…

  Perhaps Shemyaza read her thoughts. The doves were still flying around the garden, filling it with the whirring music of their wings. He reached out and plucked one from the air without even looking at it. This, he held out to Melandra.

  She stared at the bird, which now lay quietly in his hands. Then she took it from him and looked into his eyes. She had never held a bird before. It felt so fragile, its small heart beating rapidly against her fingers. Words rippled through her mind like a clear stream. His countenance is as Lebanon, excellent as the cedars. His mouth is most sweet, yea, he is altogether lovely…

  ‘I’ll listen to you,’ she said, slowly, ‘but I shall know if you lie. I shall know.’ She closed her eyes and pressed the soft feathers of the bird to her face. She hoped that what she said was true.

  The streets of Babylon were filled with bewildered people. Public transport was stilled and the powerful energy that had struck the temple had caused a black-out in the city. People from every area walked silently towards the palace walls: men, women, children, young and old. Many had witnessed the storm and the fork of light that had struck the temple. Others had simply heard it. Everyone sensed in their hearts that something had happened to change their lives, but they needed confirmation and reassurance from their king. Surely he would address them now?

  On the walls of the palace was a balcony, high up, where sometimes the king would speak to his people on public holidays. Now, as if by instinct the citizens flocked towards it. The crowd was strangely subdued; they spoke in whispers. Enormous torches were fixed to the walls on either side of the balcony. They were lit on ceremonial occasions, and were lit now. Sparks fled up into the darkness.

  The people of Babylon saw their queen come out onto the balcony. The king was not with her. She held up her hands and they fell silent. ‘My beloved people, listen to my words, for they are the words of Shemyaza, King of Heaven.’

  Sarpanita waited in the shadows beyond the balcony. How would their people take the news that Nimnezzar and all his Magians were no longer in power? She had learned that Tiy and Shemyaza had confronted the generals of Nimnezzar’s army and told them what had happened on the summit of Etemenanki. Shemyaza had told them that Sarpanita was their queen now. If they chose not to support her, they could leave the city. If they chose to fight for Nimnezzar, the power of the crystal key would smite them down. Sarpanita imagined how Shemyaza must have appeared to these cruel and violent men. The Shining One, with a divine wrath still burning invisibly around his body. They had had no choice. They had bowed to him.

  But perhaps that had been the easy part. The generals, and after them, the courtiers and advisors, had ever been proficient at self-preservation. They would accept her as queen because it was in their best interests, but how would the populace of the city feel about this change? Would they accept a queen instead of a king? Then there was the greater picture: the country beyond the city, and beyond that, the world. Her father’s fall had dramatic implications for many countries around them. Shemyaza had told Sarpanita that the city and the country were hers now, but she was so young to rule. At first, her mother and Tiy would be there to advise her, and she would have a husband to nourish her spirit. But she would need a government and ambassadors to speak for her abroad. She had so much learn and there would be so much to get used to. Childhood was over. Her husband was not even human.

  When Shemyaza and Tiy had come to her in Penemue’s room, only an hour before, she had protested when they told her she must be queen. ‘Make Penemue king,’ she said. ‘Make Mother queen.’ This last suggestion was made in fear. She was sure Amytis would not be pleased her daughter was to take the crown.

  Shemyaza would not agree with her, neither would Penemue, who intimated to her that he did not want to be king. His only purpose was to love her and support her and provide her with children, who would be kings and queens in their own time. Tiy explained that Amytis could not rule in her husband’s place and did not expect to. The people would not accept her, but Sarpanita had been a special child, ritually conceived. Now, she must assume her responsibility.

  ‘You will not be alone in this,’ Tiy said. ‘I and Penemue have a journey to make with Shemyaza, but when we return, we will be here to sustain and counsel you. We shall gather those left of your father’s court who will remain loyal to you. They will help you find the right men and women to form a government. But this is a time of change, Sarpanita, and you must learn to become strong very quickly. Do not forget this was always your destiny. You were born for it, and will be able to call upon resources you did not realise you had.’

  Hearing this, Sarpanita felt reassured, but there were other demons of doubt poised to strike. ‘What about my father and the others? What must happen to them?’ She imagined potential enemies then; blind, bitter men plotting in the dark against her.

  ‘The Magians will be returned to their own temples,’ Shemyaza said, ‘to suffer whatever penalty their superiors feel necessary. You must deal justly with the guards and the servants and make provisions for them.’

  Sarpanita glanced up at him. ‘You should not have hurt them.’

  Shemyaza gazed back at her steadily. ‘No, I should not, but the power your father had me conjure is beyond moral judgements. He bade me invoke it, and it possessed me.’

  ‘You knew what would happen. You could have refused…’

  ‘Your father hurt himself,’ Tiy said, before Shemyaza could answer. ‘Shemyaza was just the catalyst. And Nimnezzar had had him beaten.’

  Shemyaza raised his brows at her. ‘What he did to me is of minor importance. The major issue is what Babylon represents and must become. This land is where civilisation began, and now it will take centre stage in the world once more.’ He turned back to the princess. ‘This is a time of sadness for you, but also one of celebration. Tonight, you shall be married. Be at peace, Sarpanita. Enjoy this time, for you have work ahead of you. Your children are destined to become world leaders, just and fair. This will be your gift to the future. Your first task will be to make peace with the Yarasadi and end the eternal war between your people and them. It will be an example to other nations.’

  The first task of many difficult tasks. Now, standing out of sight, behind the balcony curtains, Sarpanita felt sick with fear, yet also elated. She was sorry for her father, who had lost his sight and his kingdom, but knew in her heart that he had been proud and cruel. He should not have dared to challenge Shemyaza. If he had been less arrogant, and had not put Penemue in chains or treated Shemyaza so badly, he would have been out on the balcony now, but he had lost his chance.

  Outside, her mother had fallen silent. Sarpanita could feel the presence of the crowd — her people — although they too made no sound. They
were waiting. She saw Amytis turn round and beckon to her. ‘Come, Nita. Don’t be afraid.’

  It took an eternity to walk the short distance out into the torch-light. Below, an ocean of eyes looked up at her, filled with the reflections of flames. They covered the great square before the palace, and the roof-tops of surrounding buildings. They filled the trees. She felt totally alone, naked before the expectations of the masses.

  Then Amytis spoke. ‘All hail, Queen Sarpanita! All hail!’

  And the crowd raised their arms and roared. Whatever Amytis had said, she had succeeded in touching the hearts of their people.

  Sarpanita smiled back at them, mostly terrified. Her regency would not be easy, she knew. Below her, the people were filled with excitement and fervour, but in the morning, they would reflect upon what had happened. She would be breaking a long tradition of male rulers, and some would find that hard to take. But for now, she basked in their cheers and thought of Penemue who waited for her at the palace, and of tonight, when she would begin to learn the secrets of love.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Millennium Fever

  Cairo, Egypt

  Pharmaros and Kashday had no doubt that they had shed their old lives for good. They had been living in the city for a couple of months now, running up an account at the Rameses Hilton, living off their diminishing credit. They spent their time making excursions out to ancient sites. On one occasion, they indulged themselves in a cruise up the Nile, although this had been a trip fraught with hazard. They had seen fighting taking place in the villages along the river banks. They had seen bodies polluting the sacred waters. Eventually, the boat had turned back to Cairo. It was no longer possible to pretend the country was in anything but a state of war. Rival Islamic factions fought bitterly. Westerners were killed every day, yet still they flocked to Egypt. The pull of the ancient land and the significance of the turning millennium was too strong.