The Centaur

by Brendan Carroll

  “O most Holy Archangel, thou wouldst toy with me? How would you toy with me, O Lucifer? Summon the Universe! Call out if thou canst. See what thy vile words hath wrought. Thou wouldst revel in the glory of having men believe that it was thy cunning that overcame the weak-minded woman? Tell me the truth O Angel of Light, silver-tongued devil of the ages, tell me who deceived whom? Speak! I command it!”

  Meredith stepped back and waited. Lucifer gasped, coughed and sputtered before falling to his knees in the middle of the circle.

  “I cannot say, my Lord,” he spoke in a low voice and kept his head bowed.

  “I command it!” She would not relent.

  “It was I who was caught in the garden, my Lord,” his voice was barely audible.

  “Confess thou thy sin, Lucifer. Confess it!”

  “I was… only curious, my Lord!” The angel’s voice was louder, but now the tone had changed. He was pleading. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”

  “What is the nature of your sin, my son?” Meredith’s voice softened and she placed her hand on his head.

  “I have led many astray from the path to paradise.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I was jealous.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I cannot go into paradise.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I am fallen from Grace.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I am impure and unfaithful. I am a sinner.”

  “To whom were you unfaithful, my son?”

  “My Lord, my Father.”

  “How so?”

  “I traded the mysteries for the flesh.”

  “And are you truly penitent?”

  “I am, my Lord.” The angel looked up at her and she removed her hand from his head. He was crying.

  “Rise and take my hand, my son.” She held out her hand to him and he got up.

  He stared at her hand for several long moments before clasping it in his own strong grip. A tremendous flash of light filled the tent and then they were gone.

  Haniel, Azael, Yodiel and the others fell back from the tent flap as it came away with little effort. The warriors rushed inside, looking for their chief, but there was no one inside the tent.

  A single white feather drifted in the air. Tafel snatched it from the air and looked at in puzzlement.

  “Come, brothers,” Haniel called them to follow him as he exited the tent into the cool night air.

  “Lord Lucifer will find his own way,” Azael added sadly.

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  Luke’s horse snorted and stopped short, refusing to make the next bend in the winding trail. The starlight was bright and the way clear ahead, but the animal would not budge. The entire train had finally made it down the slippery slopes of the rocky mountain on which the ark had set down. He slid out of the saddle and handed the reigns to Christopher Stewart, who rode close behind him. They had taken the point only a few minutes earlier, relieving Konrad, who was leading them by dead reckoning. The Knight of the Apocalypse and the Knight of the Wisdom of Solomon had put their heads together and come up with a fair calculation of where they had landed. They had apparently been washed out into the Red Sea and then back up the Gulf of Aqaba into the Negev region of Israel south of the Dead Sea. The way home would be long and arduous. So far they had seen nothing that would pass for a reasonable food source except fish. There were many lakes and pools, but all were filled with salt water, unfit to drink. Some of the shallow ones teemed with fish trapped when the water regressed into its proper places. They would have fish for a while, but adequate calories would be a problem for the soldiers. They were not used to surviving on protein alone. Edgard had assured them all he would find water when they needed it and none doubted his word.

  “What is the problem?” Louis Champlain shoved past Christopher and Lavon on the narrow trail and watched as Luke tried to calm his nervous steed.

  “I don’t know,” Luke shook his head and frowned up at the higher elevations. A shiver ran up his spine. “The horse knows something we don’t.”

  Lavon slid from his horse and kept going, striking the ground, rolling limply, slipping toward the lip of the ledge on which they waited. Christopher was quick to come to his Brother’s rescue, pulling him back from the brink by both arms. Luke and Louis left the nervous horse and knelt beside their fallen comrade.

  “What happened?” Konrad edged in beside them and they could hear several others shouting questions from further back.

  “He just fell from the horse,” Christopher said as he patted Lavon’s cheek and Louis held his canteen of water to his lips. The golden Knight’s eyes fluttered and then opened.

  “What’s wrong, Lavon?” Christopher bent over him.

  “I saw… I saw…” he started and then stopped and started again.

  “What did you see, Brother?” Luke Matthew pushed Christopher aside.

  “Someone used the power,” Lavon turned his eyes on Luke.

  “What power? Who?” Edgard asked urgently. The Master had made his way through the small knot on the ledge. The horses skittered and whinnied. “Get those horses back!” He ordered over his shoulder and someone came forward to take the horses in control, making more room for them. “Send word for the men to take a break. Tell them to send Simon up here ASAP!”

  The word was passed quickly up the winding trail.

  Lavon gripped the Master’s shoulder and smiled at him in wonder.

  “It was beautiful, Your Grace,” his voice was dreamy.

  “What was?” Edgard leaned closer and Luke exchanged worried glances with Louis.

  “I saw Heaven. The angels and the archangels. A great light and many souls climbing up and down a brilliant stairway. They sang to me, Master.”

  “I don’t understand.” Edgard shook his head and looked up at his Knights who shared his ignorance.

  “She took him up the staircase and stood before God.”

  “He’s delusional,” Edgard snorted and handed the disoriented Knight over to Christopher. “Has he been drinking his ration of water? He needs food and water and rest.”

  “We all need rest, Your Grace,” Luke reminded him. “I believe he saw something. My horse shied just prior to his… episode. I think someone used his mystery. It happened to me once or twice.”

  “Perhaps, but we have to get down off this mountain. We’re exposed up here to anything that might be looking for us.” The Master started back up the trail. “Let Simon have a look at him. Give him some water and let’s try to get this show back on the road.”

  Christopher helped Lavon to his feet and dusted him off as best he could. He seemed relatively unharmed by the tumble and drank a long drink from his canteen. Luke and Louis walked ahead, down the trail a bit to make sure nothing was waiting to ambush them.

  “Chris, Brother!” Lavon grasped the Knight’s shoulder when they were relatively alone. “I saw the Glory of the Throne and the Lamb sitting on it!” He was breathless and had to drink again from his water bottle. “I saw it.”

  “I believe you,” Christopher told him, fascinated with the look on Lavon’s face. Something very profound had happened to him. “Did you recognize anyone?” He asked.

  “I saw Cherubim and Seraphim, and I knew all of them. All their names. It was incredible. I can’t describe it. I saw Meredith,” he dropped his voice to a whisper.

  “Meredith? Ramsay?” Christopher frowned.

  “Yes. I know it was her. She was leading someone by the hand. I didn’t see his face. She was an angel, Chris. She was glorious.”

  “Meredith…” Christopher repeated the name softly. He turned to face the French Knight and grasped him by his surcoat, pulling him close. “Was it Master Ramsay? Mark?” He asked excitedly.

  “No. He had… he had… it was not Sir Ramsay.”

  “I hope you are right.” Christopher turned away from the French Knight.

  “Why?” Lavon frowned at the back of his
head.

  “Because I would hate to think Sir Ramsay has abandoned us,” Christopher almost spat the words and looked back at his friend and brother. “We are a long way from home, Lavon, and I don’t like this place. It is dead and barren,” he gestured toward the horizon. “I’m afraid. I want to go home to Lothian. I want to see the meadows and the forest again. I am homesick. I just want to go home.”

  Lavon’s expression changed and he smiled. “We are all tired. We will go home, Christopher, I’m sure of it. And no, it was not Sir Ramsay. I don’t think he has abandoned us just yet.”

  “Dambretti abandoned us.” Christopher reminded him. He whistled for his horse and the mare clopped carefully down the trail toward him. “And Sir Ramsay is not here.”

  “He is dealing with the evil in New Babylon.” Lavon called for his horse as well. “I suppose he would have his hands full right now.”

  “Then we should hurry.” Christopher climbed into the saddle and took a drink from his own water bottle.

  Louis and Luke returned from their short scouting trip and reported nothing amiss. Simon came sliding down the slope behind them, leading his mare by the bridle. He checked Lavon for injuries and pronounced him fit for travel, and soon they were all making their way slowly and painfully down the trail again.

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  Gambrelli exorcised the water according to the Wisdom of Solomon procedures for magickal conjurations. He exorcised the censor, the salt and the hyssop. He drew the circle according to the instructions and he had consecrated himself by fasting and prayer for the requisite number of days. He had suffered the pangs of hunger in patience, prayed with obeisance and obedience and kept his thoughts and actions pure after his confession. He was ready to conjure the spirits which would answer his questions about the whereabouts of the Ark of the Covenant. He would learn this precious information and then inform the Pope. Together they would summon the Count and raise an army to go after it. They would not fail this time. They would fight fire with fire.

  He raised the heavy sword that had apparently once belonged to the unfortunate magician, Guiseppi Apolonius. It was a true work of art, forged of the finest steel, inlaid with precious gold and silver, in the pommel was set a perfect aquamarine and on the hilt was engraved seven of the names of God. The thing must have cost dear old Guiseppi a fortune in its day and now it was priceless. He raised the sword and began the conjuration.

  “I conjure thee, O Sword, by these Names, Abrahach, Abrach, Abracadabra, that thou serve me for a strength and defence in all Magical Operations, against all mine Enemies, visible and invisible. I conjure thee anew by the Holy and Indivisible Name of El strong and wonderful; by the Name Shaddai Almighty; and by these Names Qadosch, Qadosch, Qadosch, Adonai, the First and the Last, Wisdom, Way, Life, Truth, Chief, Speech, Word, Splendour, Light, Sun, Fountain, Glory, the Stone of the Wise, Virtue, Shepherd, Priest, Messiach Immortal; by these Names then, and by the other Names, I conjure thee, O Sword, that thou servest me for a Protection in all adversities. Amen.”

  The Cardinal lowered the sword and tried hard not to smile, for to smile would be to gloat and to gloat would be to sin. He was pleased to have remembered the words so perfectly. These things took a great deal of effort and self-discipline. He could not afford to throw it all way for petty vanity. Laying the sword carefully on a piece of white silk near the northern point of the central pentagram, he uncovered the specially prepared pentacles. Taking them up, one in each hand, he walked clockwise around the inner circle, presenting them to each quarter for several seconds before returning to the center. He replaced the pentacles in black silk sacks, and then carefully picked up a sheet of virgin parchment on which his question had been carefully inscribed with consecrated ink in a properly exorcised pen. This, he presented to the northern Cardinal point where he expected the invisible spirit that would answer his question to appear.

  He gasped as the parchment was snatched into the air by a set of long fingers attached to a pale hand.

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  Lucio shivered as Nicole raised the black dagger in salutation of the spirits of the North. He did not necessarily approve of the method she had chosen to learn the whereabouts of Sophia and Mark Andrew, but he had no other better ideas. Gregory had suggested summoning his grandmother, Semiramis, but Lucio had vetoed that. Nicholas had suggested a trip to the underworld in search of the elves who, in Nicholas’ understanding, knew most everything. Again Lucio adamantly disagreed. No trips to the underworld. The Captain had suggested they simply inform what passed for the local authorities of the missing persons and Lucio had thought him insane. At each suggestion, Nicole’s proposal looked better and better and so, he had escorted her to the forest where several such ceremonies had been performed with varying degrees of success in the past and stayed with her as she attempted to summon one of the powers of Marduk to help them. Marduk! But he had grown less fearful of the great Lord of the Fifth Gate in recent years, and, if it worked, they would save a great deal of time and energy, and he could be on his way.

  She raised a silver pentacle taken from a silk bag in her father’s laboratory, toward the moon which was only just rising above the eastern trees. “I conjure and pray ye, O ye Powers of Marduk, and ye Abysmal Spirits, to come unto mine aid; come and behold the Signs of Heaven, and be my witness before the Sovereign Lord, of the disobedience of evil and fallen Spirits who were at one time the companions of Celestial Angels.”

  Lucio had never heard these words before, but held his peace.

  “I conjure thee by the fifteenth name of the Powers of Marduk, Lord of the Fifth Gate, Lugima, who knows the essence of all Spirits, both dead and alive, both born and unborn. Great Lugima, I command you to appear at this circle and place yourself at my pleasure.”

  Nothing happened and she started again from the beginning.

  When she had finished speaking the word of summoning for the third time, a form materialized in the eastern quadrant. Beyond the figure, a shadowy mirror-image of their circle appeared to hover in the air.

  “Che cosa e` esso?” Lucio whispered the question to her. This did not look natural to him.

  “I don’t know. Shhhhh,” Nicole admonished the Italian to silence. “O great Lugima, tell us where we may find the woman Sophia and the man Mark Andrew Ramsay whom, of late, were both found on these grounds.”

  The image was wispy, vaporous and seemed confused by the two circles. Lucio squinted in the dim light of the fire burning in the central brass bowl. There was only one figure in the mirror circle and it resembled neither himself, nor Nicole. He blinked and rubbed his eyes. The scene was bizarre. Beyond the first circle was another circle and then another as if they were caught up in an M. C. Escher painting.

  “Wait,” he hissed at her. “Something is wrong.”

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  “By the powers of El, I command ye!” Luke Matthew finished the conjuration. He and Lavon shared the circle they had fashioned rather hastily at the foot of the mountain. They needed food and water. If they could find a good store of supplies and replenish their packs and canteens, they could make it to New Babylon without stopping to ferret out food and water from the cracks and crevices in the desert. “Show yourself to us, O great Entrigl, twenty-fourth power of Lord Marduk of the Fifth Gate. Appear and be recognized!”

  “Sacre bleu!” Lavon gasped as a series of overlapping circles appeared in the western quadrant outside their circle.’

  “Hush, Brother,” Luke Matthew admonished him. “Pay no attention to the illusions.”

  Luke turned to the west and brandished his sword. “I command thee, I constrain thee, I invoke thee, O Entrigl, advance and be recognized!”

  A shadowy form took shape at the eastern Cardinal point behind him.

  “You called, Master?” The voice was deep and powerful, startling both of the men within the circle. They spun around and faced ‘great Entrigl’, a hideous looking beast wi
th a face like a lizard.

  “It is well and good that you favor us with your presence, Lord Entrigl. We beseech your knowledge of the barren spaces. We are seeking sustenance for a long journey in the company of a great army.”

  “How great is your need, O King?” The spirit’s yellow eyes gleamed in the darkness. “What poor service can such a one as I offer you? I am but a poor waif. Bring me into the light that I may worship your face. Do you also seek the Ark of manna? Or do you seek only the manna? Would you seek that which saved Noah from the flood? Have you found it in your travels, great King?”

  Luke Matthew frowned and glanced at Lavon. Something was not quite right about the spirit’s demeanor.

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  Marduk struggled mightily with the heavy gold encrusted box. It was slippery with the muck from the bottom of the stagnant pool. One of the boggans rushed forward to help him, but Nergal batted the witless fool aside. To touch the Ark would be death. Only Lord Marduk could hold the treasure of his father.

  “So!” Nergal stood with his claws on his scaly hips. “This is the great artifice of Samael?”

  “Samael?” Marduk sat down between the outstretched wings of the golden cherubim and ran his hands over his dripping face. “You should not address him by that name, Lord Nergal. He would not appreciate it. I believe he prefers the name Enki from his subjects and close friends.” Marduk smiled at his own humor.