For the second time in a few short hours, they had to restrain the Italian again as he tried to attack first Mark Andrew and then Lemarik. It was Merry who finally got him calmed down again.
(((((((((((((
If the elves had been terrified by Queen Ereshkigal, they were horrified at the powerful form of Anu, Skyfather, Lord of the Moon. They ran before his presence until they were hidden in the forest, unwilling and/or unable to come out again. He walked with casual grace down the green central lawn of his daughter’s ‘Scottish Meadow’. Nergal walked by his side, again dressed in his finest armor, but nothing could compare to the burnished breastplate, the glittering, gem-encrusted helmet and the sparkling weapons adorning the muscular form of Anu. Even his shoes or sandals seemed made of gleaming diamonds as were his gauntlets and greaves. No mortal weapon could penetrate his armor. No modern weapon could pass through the powerful aura around him. The five ghostly Templars, the members of Simon’s family, Sophia and the rest of the Templars stood near the smoking barbecue pit watching them with great curiosity. Only the brave little King, managed to choke back his fear enough to stand with them. Paddy and his clurichaun band and the Boggan guards found themselves inhabiting the limbs of a stout oak tree on the edge of the forest, peering out through the leaves with the greatest caution. Plotius, himself, stood in front of his Queen’s yellow and black pavilion, sparkling in his own armor, rigid with terror.
Nergal escorted his grandfather about the amusements in the artificial world, explaining each of the areas as best he could, though he hardly knew what some of the games and recreation areas were about. Anu listened with great interest, and then finally made his way directly to where the members of Ereshkigal’s extended family stood waiting in silent trepidation.
Anu’s deep blue eyes fell on the smallest member first, as the baby cried softly on his mother’s shoulder and he removed his helmet, handing it over to Plotius. The baby, unimpressed by this regal visitor, was the only member unafraid to vocalize his true feelings.
“Show me the child.” Anu nodded to the baby. His stern face belied no personal interest, but Sophia’s knees almost gave out when Nergal reached for the child. Louis caught Christopher Stewart when he made a move to object. There was no harm in showing the child. Christopher subsided, and they held their collective breaths as the Lord of the Fifth Gate turned the baby around, allowing the blanket to fall to the ground.
Nergal held the boy awkwardly and the baby began to cry in earnest as the Lord of the Fifth Gate squirmed and cringed uncomfortably.
“Here, here. Hush, my son. Shhhh,” Anu said as his entire demeanor changed. He took the baby from Nergal and held him up at arm’s length. Michael Emmanuel did not like this any better and let them all know with more wails. “Hush, little one. I only want to see who we have here.” The Skyfather tucked him close in the crook of his arm and the cries quieted. Anu brushed the wispy black hair from around the baby’s face, and touched his chin with his index finger, tracing the outline of the tiny dimple there. The baby cooed, hiccupped and then smiled, blinking its large blue eyes slowly.
“So!” Anu handed the baby back to Sophia quite suddenly. “His name?”
“Michael Emmanuel,” she said quickly and crushed the baby to her.
“And his father?” Anu narrowed his eyes.
There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that this creature was not human in the least and made no effort to appear so. Power exuded from him in an almost palpable form. All of them could see his silver aura as it ebbed and flowed around him. His eyes gleamed with an inner light and his skin was as if made from polished stone. Every move he made caused tiny crackling noises as if electricity coursed through his body. They could also see this was another of Mark Andrew Ramsay’s kin. Somehow. Some way.
“Mark Ramsay,” Sophia raised her chin.
Anu turned quickly to Il Dolce Mio and leaned toward him slightly. The King drew back instinctively, causing the silver ornaments in his hair to jingle. The Lord of the Moon reached out slowly and took the ornate silver trinkets in his hand, turning them over slowly, examining them closely. Blue sparks erupted from the ornaments while tendrils of the King’s hair rose straight up in the air.
“And you?” He asked as their eyes met above the silver. “What is your name, little King?”
“I am Il Dolce Mio, named by my Italian father in the absence of my true father, the King… Mark Andrew Ramsay,” his voice was slightly higher pitched than normal, but his words did not falter.
“A strange name, for such a great manifestation,” Anu commented and let go of the earrings and turned his attention to Michael Ian, who stood behind Armand and Konrad. “You,” he nodded to Michael. “Come forward.”
Michael stepped around Armand and stood silently looking into the enigmatic blue eyes that were all too familiar to him.
“You are not as old as you look, young one,” Anu actually smiled. “Do you know who I am?”
“No, sir.” Michael shook his head. “I don’t know you, but you look very familiar.”
At this response, Anu laughed in earnest and Nergal laughed with him briefly before Anu stopped, and Nergal choked to a halt a second later. He focused on Menaka, who stood holding Levi’s arm.
“Ahhhh,” his brilliant smile returned. “A blossom from the depths of Paradise. Come out, my child.” He held out his hand to her and she looked to Levi for support. “Come, come, my daughter.” Anu frowned slightly. “I will not harm you, most wonderful child. Your consort may come along with us, but not too close.”
Levi’s mouth fell open, but Oriel pushed him forward as Anu took Menaka’s hand and placed it on his arm. “We will walk and you will tell me what all of this is about. I want to hear about your father’s health and…” his eyes fell on Oriel, who had been hidden by her son’s larger figure.
“You,” his frown deepened. “You must come with us as well. Yes, yes. Another jewel from the mines of Angurra. I am impressed indeed.”
It was Christopher’s turn to hold Louis back when Oriel glanced at him, shook her head and then went out to take Anu’s other arm.
Anu glanced at Thaddeus when he uttered a muffled protest.
“Your son?” He asked Oriel.
“Yes, sir,” she told him evenly. “You are related to Sir Ramsay? The resemblance is remarkable.”
“He is a relative of mine. Only a bit closer than you, my lovely flower.” Anu looked up at the clear blue sky.
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” she said as they walked toward the driving range.
“He is your uncle. I am his father. You are my granddaughter. Your mother is my daughter, Ereshkigal. Have you been raised in ignorance, my child? We must remedy that if things are to proceed in good order,” Anu explained. His voice was very similar to Mark Andrew’s, but the inflection was more akin to the Mighty Djinni. “In fact, your father’s father is my son, I believe.”
“Simon?” Oriel asked in alarm. “Simon of Grenoble’s father is your grandson? Who are you? How is that possible?”
“I am Anu. An to some. I am the father of Enlil and of Enki, father of Marduk, father of Nebo, also known to you as Nathaniel or Edgard d’Brouchart. I am father of Adar, also known to you as Mark Andrew Ramsay of late. He has taken many names. I prefer simplicity. I am also the father of Ereshkigal, Queen. That makes all of us related, which is favorable for future generations. One cannot thin the blood too much or the power of the gods will fade. I am pleased that my children have at least kept close to one another.”
Menaka looked around him at Oriel and found the same look of disbelief mirrored in her sister-in-law’s eyes.
“Tell me, declare it to me, if you have understanding, sweet daughters.” He ignored their discomfiture as well as his agitated great-great grandson, Levi James, who walked behind him. He ignored the howls of the Boggans in the trees when he walked past them, and he ignored the nervous presence of Lord Nergal off to his right and the crowd of Temp
lars following a few yards behind Levi. “What is all of this about now? Where is the lovely Ereshkigal and her brother, Marduk? If we are to have a gathering, then I should think the entire family should be here to enjoy.”
Chapter Ten of Twelve
Knowest thou it, because thou wast then born?
or because the number of thy days is great?
“I’m telling you, Bari.” Nicole’s deep blue eyes sparkled with excitement. “I know that’s what it is!”
“But it sounds dangerous.” Bari shook his head stubbornly and ran his fingers nervously through his beard.
He looked more and more like the Djinni every day. He’d taken up wearing the same style clothes as his missing grandfather. Even Jasmine had commented on it… somewhat sarcastically. She had mistaken her step-grandson for Lemarik on several occasions, and her heart was already broken that none could say where the Djinni had gotten off to. Bari was convinced it had everything to do with the equally mysterious disappearance of Omar and his sister, Dunya. Dunya’s absence had raised a bigger stink in the Djinni’s palace than the loss of the owner. Nicole had been surprised to see how many of the people gathered there valued the Djinni’s diminutive daughter over her father and her famous brother. Semiramis had flown into a rage, accusing Omar of stealing her away for unsavory reasons. Bari had decided that his grandfather had gone after them, Nicole withheld her opinions at first, but she and the surviving Fox sergeant had been the only ones who even noticed the disappearance of General Schweikert.
“I’ve been studying it day and night.” Nicole walked around the laboratory table, inspecting the wonderful array of equipment kept there by her half-brother. “Dreaming is the key. I’ve spoken to everyone who will speak to me, and I’m going to work an experiment.”
“Don’t expect me to help you,” Bari objected and looked at his grandfather’s fabulous alchemical collection uneasily. “I’ve never had much luck with alchemy.”
“It requires no alchemy,” she said as she picked up an interesting bottle of purple liquid with blue globes floating in it and sniffed the contents cautiously. “Whooo!” she exclaimed and recapped the stopper. “I’m glad my interests didn’t lead me this way. At any rate, I plan to make it happen. Barshak will be there to observe. I had thought you might wish to participate, but if you’re afraid… I understand.” She gathered her blue dress in her hands and headed for the door of the lab.
“Afraid?” Bari hurried after her. His golden slippers slapped on the marble floor and the numerous bracelets he wore jingled in unison with his earrings and the elvish-style ornaments in his hair. “I didn’t say I was afraid. I just said I think it’s dangerous.” He looked like an extremely vain peacock.
“Then you will participate?” She glanced at him over her shoulder as they traveled through the maze of passages in the lower palace.
“I’ll… observe,” he told her. “I’ll bring Asaralia with me and we will observe. You can have your lover help you.”
“My lover?” She frowned. “Oh, you mean Barshak? I do believe you are jealous, little nephew.” Nicole’s laughter echoed in the halls. “What have you been up to? Are you spying on me?”
“I am not jealous of you!” Bari objected, but did not deny spying on her. He had seen her and her antics with the odd-looking fellow that followed her around. In fact, it was surprising he was not with her now. “Asaralia tells me your Mr. Barshak is one of his acquaintances. A power of Marduk. Is that true?”
“What do you care?” Nicole was becoming irritated with Bari again. They could never agree on anything for more than a few moments.
“Asaralia tells me that there are two others loose as well,” Bari lowered his voice and drew closer to her. “At least two, perhaps more. He says there is one… most horrible to gaze upon, lurking somewhere in the Abyss. How he knows, I have no idea. He also says that one called Asadarlu, apparently the maker of the golden swords your brother and your father carry, is roaming around, trying to get his swords back. He says that this Asadarlu is the one who taught your father to use the sword in the first place in ages past, and that he is master of masters when it comes to sword play. He says Asadarlu can defeat even Sir Ramsay in hand to hand combat with the broadsword.”
“Who let him loose? Mark?” Nicole was paying more attention now as she remembered the botched magick of the Dove wherein she had been forced to step in and save him. A golden sword had definitely been there. She’d used it.
“Asaralia says that the one called the Dove summoned the sword maker up and took another of the great weapons from him for his own. It apparently runs in the family. That made three golden swords loose. Three too many, if you ask me, but this fellow Asadarlu wants them all back now,” Bari finished and looked around the empty corridors.
“Who else is loose?” She asked as they climbed the last stairs leading up toward her chambers.
“He says that possibly one creature called Alanna. Very powerful. This could be the source of the black plague in the forest according to my friend. It was a common trick she once used.”
“She? A female power?” Nicole smiled. “Now that would be a change.”
“The company of women is a dangerous thing,” Bari repeated the old Templar rule and Nicole’s temper flared.
“What would you know of the company of women, Bari? I daresay you’ve never spent time with a real woman.” She slapped him with a stinging verbal retort before opening the door of her opulent rooms. Barshak was leaning on the railing of the balcony, looking out over the misty gray expanse of the sea. He turned to smile at them and came to take his mistress’ hand, kissing it lightly.
“Mr. Barshak.” Nicole bowed her head slightly to him. “My nephew, Bari, will be observing the experiment. He also wants to bring his friend, Asaralia. Do you have any objections?”
“Of course not,” Barshak answered quietly. His smooth forehead creased slightly between his brows. “I am honored to be allowed to assist you, my sweet daughter of death.”
Nicole closed her eyes briefly and pulled off the heavy blue gown, revealing a lighter garment of wispy material, close-fitting and highly revealing. She’d lost none of her mother’s beauty, but gained none of her mother’s modesty. She could not break Barshak of his irritating habit of publicly calling her by the most unflattering endearments.
“Summon him,” Nicole ordered as she turned to Bari and let loose her long blonde hair. He stood looking at her with the same puppy-dog eyes she remembered from her days in New Babylon when Jozsef Daniel had not been… himself. “Bari?” She leaned closer to him. “Go fetch your friend while I take a bath and get ready for bed.”
“Oh, yes, of course,” Bari’s voice had risen two octaves when he snapped out of the semi-trance that her shameless display had caused. He left her room without further ado.
“You are wrong for treating him so,” Barshak chided her softly. “He is insanely in love or lust with you. I’m not sure which it is. I think it might be love... or… it could be lust.”
“Well, he can forget it. And the word ‘treat’ is correct, but that is all I can offer him.” She shrugged. “I know him too well. A spoiled brat. Selfish, petulant, whining… and look at him! He dresses up like he’s going to a costume ball every day. He always wants something from me, as if he can’t do a single thing for himself. I hate people who cannot take care of themselves. People who expect other people to wait on them hand and foot.” She turned on her heel and headed for her waiting bath. Something Barshak specialized in these days. The aroma filled the room when she drew back the translucent drapes around the huge marble tub. “Would you be a dear and bring me something to drink? A glass of wine? And get rid of that blue dress, will you? Oww! Too hot! Come and fix this, please, my love?” She waited while he made the final tweak on the bath water with a wave of his hand. “Did you get rid of the dress? I want to wear the white one for my journey. White compliments my skin color so well, don’t you think? Could you possibly find it for me? And som
e of the cologne Jasmine keeps.” He looked up at her with a strange smile on his face.
“What are you smiling at?” She frowned at him. “Did I say something funny?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact you did,” he got up and went to find her a glass of wine, the white dress and the requested cologne.
“Are you going to bathe with me?” She called after him impatiently. “You can scrub my back. I love it when you scrub my back.”
“Yes, my sweet little black pot of delight,” he called as he laid her gown out on a velvet bench.
“What did you call me?” She frowned again when he came back with her wine. He handed it down to her along with a brief kiss.
“Nothing. Nothing at all,” he said as he dropped his quilted jacket on the floor. “We’d best hurry before the kettle comes back to a boil.”
(((((((((((((
“We will agree to allow Sir d’Ornan to accompany you, but there will be conditions.” Edgard d’Brouchart leaned on the twisted staff supporting the glowing amber ball slightly over his head.
“I do not have time to bandy words with you, Nebo.” The Queen narrowed her yellowish eyes and huffed audibly when Sir Barry edged in a bit closer to the Master. “What are your conditions?”
“I would know where we are and what we are doing here… immediately,” he said and his words were followed closely by several ‘ayes’ and other affirmations of his demand. “Furthermore, I would demand we be returned to our respective homes or, if needs must, a location amenable to all concerned.”
“That would take too much time,” she stamped one foot impatiently. “If we tarry much longer, Abaddon will perish.”
“I daresay that few gathered here would grieve overmuch to learn that the dark demon had passed,” he told her.
The baculus glowed even more brightly. The strangely powerful, ancient device was the only thing that stood between them and the Queen’s wrath. Only Simon’s quick thinking had kept her from taking him without question from his bed in the Villa. The Healer had convinced her he needed certain magickal devices from the Master’s quarters in order to function in the Abyss. Edgard and Galindwynne had been quick to act when Simon had alerted them to the presence of the Queen. Now the entire population of the Villa stood in the early morning mist in the courtyard, trying to make some sense of her sudden appearance without vanguard or even a single Boggan to stand beside her.
The Wayward Godking Page 23
