The Wayward Godking

by Brendan Carroll

  “Yes, so I’m told,” Anu said enigmatically. “But none are truly damned. You are versed in the scriptures of the Children of Israel. What was it that Joshua told the people? Thus saith the Lord God of Israel, your fathers dwelt on the other side of the flood in old time, even Terah, the father of Abraham, and the father of Nachor and they served other gods. And I took your father Abraham from the other side of the flood and led him throughout all the land of Canaan, and multiplied his seed and gave him Isaac. And I gave him Jacob and Esau. You know these words?”

  “Yes, of course.” Simon nodded as they walked quickly through the dripping forest.

  “Nothing has changed in that respect.” Anu waved one hand in dismissal. “I gave Jacob to Isaac, and then Jacob tried to defeat my son in hand-to-hand combat. Needless to say, he lost.”

  “I’ve heard that story before,” Simon told him resolutely.

  “Men are stiff-necked and stubborn. They carry too much hatred in their hearts. Too much vengeance and bloodlust.”

  “There are some who do not,” Simon objected. “I have known some good men.”

  “You have known some good men, yes, but even still, they are all killers. You speak of the Knights of the Council. Think of them in terms of human experience, my son. Louis Champlain? Luke Matthew Ramsay? Bartholomew of Sussex? Konrad von Hetz, the elder? Are these the men you would call good men? Do good men slay other men? How many men did they kill over the course of the centuries?”

  “They did what they had to do. Times were different then. Men were…”

  “Stiff-necked? Barbarian?” Anu laughed softly and then stopped. “Ahhhh. Ohhhhhh. Mmmmmm. Nasty, very nasty. These people need a dose of Sheol.” He dropped to one knee and peered out from under a broad leaf at the scene in the clearing beyond.

  Simon knelt beside him and gasped as he took in the sight of the islanders, half naked, dancing wildly around a leaping fire while several children threw rocks at two unfortunate creatures tied to trees nearby.

  “Go on out there, my son.” He nudged Simon’s ribs with his elbow. “Tell them that God is unhappy with them and that I have sent you as my divine messenger to warn them of hell fire and damnation. You know the story.”

  Simon’s mouth fell open in surprise and then he clamped his jaw shut stubbornly as one of the hapless victims screamed again. The Healer got up resolutely and walked out of the cover of the trees. With a start, he realized that he no longer wore his favorite yellow shirt and tan slacks, but rather golden raiment that shined and shimmered as he walked. He moved his shoulders around uneasily as he felt an unusual weight on them as if he were wearing a heavy cape. When he glanced over his shoulder, he was shocked to see the curve of feathers. Without trying, he felt his wings unfolding and he quickly willed them to remain tucked. His heart was beating hard and fast when his presence was finally noticed by the revelers who were about to have a mid-afternoon snack of a most sordid nature. The islanders froze in mid-dance. Some of the women and children screamed at the sight of the glowing, winged apparition wielding a magnificent club in one hand, striding toward them from the forest. Within moments, the men had thrown down their weapons and musical instruments and run toward him, surrounding him, their eyes wide with wonder, curiosity and fear.

  “Behold!” Simon opened his mouth and was startled to hear how loud his own voice was. The islanders fell back, covering their ears, murmuring, cowering now. Simon also realized that he was not speaking French, nor English, nor any other language in his normal repertoire. “I am Simon of Grenoble, Messenger of Light. So says your Lord and God ‘Repent of your abominations! For you sin greatly in the eyes of God.’ So says your Lord and your God ‘Release these men or suffer the pains delivered upon them threefold’!”

  The wildly painted cannibals ran away from Simon a short distance and then gathered in a tight knot. They spoke together quietly for several seconds, and then grabbed up a variety of discarded weapons from the ground. They were not buying it.

  Their leader led the charge, wielding a short spear and a ceremonial dagger. The others came rushing behind him waving their spears, clubs and knives, screaming and shouting insults.

  When they were very close, Simon pointed the rod at their legs and they tumbled to the ground, screaming even louder, but now in pain as they suffered the same pain as their captives, legs broken, yet not broken. They flopped and flipped on the ground like so many fish out of water. Behind them, their comrades and family members moaned and shouted and pleaded for the lives of their friends and loved ones.

  Simon allowed them to suffer a few moments and then caused the pain to cease.

  “Behold, the Lord has spoken ‘This is my law: Do unto others only what you would have done to you.’ That is law of God.”

  Simon held up the staff and the islanders scrambled away from him. Several of them ran to the trees where Count Polunsky and the Pope were tied, bruised and bleeding, barely conscious. They untied the two men quickly and carried them to within a few yards of the angel before laying them out carefully on the ground.

  Simon looked back toward the trees. He didn’t know what to do with the two injured men. They could not possibly take care of themselves, but he could not take them with him… could he?

  “Take them and care for them!” he commanded the men of the village. “Tend their wounds. Feed them and love them as your Brothers. Abstain from the abomination of eating human flesh for you shall surely die! This is the commandment of the Lord.”

  The village chief turned to his people and shouted a number of orders to them. Simon waited until the unfortunate men were picked up and carried away again toward the village buildings. The Healer was very glad that neither of the men had been cognizant of his presence or his identity. When only the chief and a few of his men remained in the clearing, Simon raised the rod again, threatening them with it.

  “Go now and follow the way of the Lord and know He will be pleased with your good works. Know also that He will be filled with wrath if you fail him and I, His Servant will visit you again.”

  The frightened men, nodded, bowed, scraped and backed away simultaneously. Simon turned and walked directly back to the trees where Anu waited for him.

  “Excellent! Wonderful!” Anu clapped him on his back between his wings.

  “Do I have to keep these?” Simon grimaced and tried to look at the wings on his back.

  “Don’t you like them?” Anu asked him and then laughed. “Of course not, but they do have their uses beyond the obvious.”

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  The number of long faces increased when William and Anna sat down at the far end of the banquet table in one of the Djinni’s grand dining halls. But they were not here for feasting. A number of servants brought beverages for them, but the table held no food. The flowers and candles had been removed and the hall had become an impromptu meeting hall. Luke Andrew Ramsay sat at one end of the table facing John Paul down the shining length. On his right was Lucia, his half-sister and on his left, Marco, his half-brother. Also in attendance were other members of the extended family including Aurora who sat next to her husband, Gregory and his brother Nicholas who sat at their father’s right hand and Jozsef Daniel, sitting next to his wife near the middle of the table facing Semiramis. A little further on, Jasmine sat between Seularik and Jeanine. The Djinni’s daughter sat across from Lucio, staring balefully at him as she had on their first meeting. The Italian Knight was oblivious to Jeanine’s attention; he seemed to be asleep with his chin propped in his hand.

  John Paul stood up and looked at them all as if he were truly afraid to speak to them. Aurora bumped his arm and he coughed. When he did not speak, Lucia stood up.

  “Since we are all here now, I believe we should get straight to the matter at hand,” she said and John Paul sighed before sitting down. “And that is the disappearance of my… our mother,” she nodded to her brothers and then cast a frown at John Paul. “She was last seen in Nicole’s… the room wh
erein Luke was taken after the fight with the creature. She was there with this Anu character.”

  John Paul stood quickly and cleared his throat loudly. Lucia opened her mouth to speak again, but sat down instead.

  “Friends and family,” he said slowly. “My… sister is much like her father,” he smiled at Lucio who drew a deep breath and held it. “She is quite passionate and too quick to speak her mind. Not exactly a sin, but sometimes rashness can lead to serious error. This Anu character as she calls him would be deserving of more respect. He did, after all, dispatch the creature that we could not seem to vanquish.” He paused to rub his stomach where the wound he had suffered still pained him somewhat though it was healing rapidly. “Furthermore, he may be known to some as Anu, the Skyfather, but he is known to others as Jehovah or Yahweh, the I AM of the Jews. He is the god who led them through the wilderness and brought them into the light under the express orders of our Heavenly Father.”

  The room fell very quiet as his simple words sank into those to whom this revelation was shocking news. Lucio opened his eyes slowly and frowned. Every day he learned more and more that he did not wish to know. The Lord of Death from the Halls of Amenti was this same Anu who was now to be identified with the Lord Jehovah? He should have known. In his heart, he did know it.

  “Be that as it may,” Lucia said and raised her chin defiantly. “What right does he have to abduct our mother?”

  “I doubt that he abducted her, Lucia,” Marco whispered across the table to his sister. “If Anu is God, then he would not have to abduct anyone. I think it’s called ascension. You should not question the acts of… God, sister.”

  John Paul smiled slightly at the simplicity of his half-brother’s explanation. Something he inherited from his father: the Will of God.

  “I think that my dear grandfather has taken her from us for his own reasons and we will not know what they are until he wishes to reveal them to us,” John Paul told them. “Our immediate concern should not be for Meredith since she is, undoubtedly, in good hands, but we may wish to consult with Brother Luke as to the nature of the beast that attacked him and the possibility of it returning.”

  John sat down quickly and all eyes turned to the transformed Luke Andrew. None of them had failed to notice the remarkable resemblance of Mark Ramsay’s son to the recently departed Anu.

  “I have seen him before,” Luke told them simply. “He is after the golden swords of the Cherubim.”

  “Why?” Semiramis asked this question. “The swords belong to Adar.”

  “Not exactly,” Luke shook his head. “They actually belong to that hideous piece of crap that kicked our collective asses yesterday. My sister tells me that his name is Asadarlu. You will notice that the name Adar is contained in his own. Why that is so escapes me, but he is one of the powers of Marduk and his specialty, apparently, is forging flaming swords. My dear father took one from him a few eons ago. My brother…” Luke paused and grimaced as if in pain. “The real Mark Andrew, that is… took another one from him and almost lost his life in the process. My sister intervened in his magick and saved him, but he retains the sword still, I believe. My father did not have his sword with him when I last saw him because he lost it in the Seventh Gate. I believe that my… brother, Luke Matthew, now carries it. The sword that he had with him was possibly my own that I also lost in the Seventh Gate. At any rate, I don’t have the sword anymore. I doubt he will be back.”

  Lucio coughed slightly and then drew the flaming sword from under the table. He laid it on the smooth alabaster surface and raised both eyebrows.

  “Anu took it from him,” the Italian said.

  “Ahhhh,” Luke nodded his head. “Let me amend that. He just might be back.”

  “If this Asadarlu is a power of Marduk, he won’t be back,” Semiramis spoke up. “He will not risk confronting Anu again. Anu could destroy him with one wave of his hand.”

  “Let us hope that is so,” John Paul said and then smiled at Aurora.

  “Let us go after him,” Gregory offered suddenly. “He is surely hiding in the forest. I saw him running like a coward before I passed out. I know that Nicholas and I can take him if we are on the offensive.”

  “No! He is much older and wiser than many of us here, and he is the master of all masters in the art of combat.” John Paul shook his head. “We will wait here. There is more amiss now than meets the eye. That Anu is walking among us is a powerful sign that all is not right with the above or the below. We must wait until we receive word from my father.”

  “Your father?” Luke Andrew frowned at him.

  “I meant to say your father,” John’s smile faded and he let go another sigh.

  “My father is on Christmas Island in the South Pacific,” Luke told him. “We need to find out what is going on. If you know of some way to contact the Djinni or my father, I suggest you do it.”

  “It was Easter Island,” Lucio corrected him. “I don’t think they are there any longer. I found myself in another place. A forest. Perhaps here in the underworld or perhaps somewhere else. I think that we were all taken from the island when Nicole came to us.”

  “The Djinni told us that the world had tilted on its axis and that much of it was destroyed in the process,” Luke Andrew continued. “He said that Scotland is now in the Southern Hemisphere and that the orang-utans have all perished. I’m no physical scientist or geologist, ladies and gentlemen, but if what Lemarik says is true, then we may be confined to the underworld for a very long time… perhaps forever.”

  The meeting erupted into a series of muffled explosions of disbelief before subsiding into silence again.

  “If that is the case,” John Paul told them all. “We must assume God has put us here to protect us.”

  “I would not necessarily attribute it to God,” Luke spoke again. “I was in the Seventh Gate, and then I was hauled away and judged for my crimes. I was then put into prison awaiting the execution of my sentence. My father came and took me to Easter Island. He did not take me there by design. He went there because Lemarik was already there and was sleeping. My father was using the dream fields to travel. If God put us here, then he allowed us a way out.”

  “So you believe that we may travel the same way?” Semiramis asked the question.

  “You are all familiar with this mode of travel?” Lucio asked them.

  “It was once a preferred method,” the Queen told him. “If you will recall, I believe I visited your dreams more than once, Sir.”

  Lucio fell silent as John Paul took over the meeting and the discussion of how, who, what and where they would attempt the dream walking.

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  Mark Andrew broke free from Marduk’s choke hold, rolled across the floor of the cavern, plucked his sword from the ground and sprinted into the crowd, shouting for them to fall back. Elves, men and Boggans fled in every direction as the Lord of the Seventh Gate ran back through the Queen’s wrecked chambers and started up the ramp, leading to the upper reaches. Marduk recovered his sword as well and chased after him. The Queen sat in the midst of her ruined boudoir with her chin resting in her hand. Plotius stood nearby his mistress, looking frightened and confused. Nergal walked back and forth beside the stone bower, kicking broken crystal petals and chunks of rock out of his way, waving his arms angrily while haranguing his wife for having brought these volatile personalities together in such close quarters.

  The Knights of the Council and the rest of the Templar faction followed faithfully after their Knight of Death as he continued his epic struggle against the enraged Marduk. The Lord of the Sixth Gate had attempted to call upon several of his powers to use against Mark Andrew, but Ereshkigal had used her own powers to block him. She could not stop them, but she could alter their methods if necessary. She would not allow Marduk any special benefits to help him. They could do nothing more than fight each other with swords and bare hands, but it was bad enough and threatened to go on for days, weeks or even years.
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  Most of the women present had left the caverns and drifted back to the open air of the pavilions in the meadow, having lost interest in the fight. Only Lily Ramsay remained with her sons, Luke Matthew and the Dove as they chased the combat back and forth through the caves and passages, unable to help or hinder the progress of the battle.

  Mark ducked inside one of the passages at the top of the ramp and Marduk charged in after him. The Knight of Death disappeared around the first bend and then dove at Marduk’s feet when he rounded the rock wall in pursuit. The move took Marduk off guard and Mark lifted him bodily from the floor, tossing him over his shoulders, directly into the pit that had once contained the horrid black scourge. Marduk grabbed wildly at the ledge and caught hold of a small protrusion with one hand. A steaming cloud rose from the depths of the foul hole and disappeared through vents in the rock ceiling above. Marduk bellowed in rage and dropped his sword into the depths. He clung to the edge of the pit while Mark Andrew stood looking down at him with a slight smile on his bloodied face.

  “Give over, brother,” he said when Marduk stopped yelling curses at him. “Give over, and I’ll help you up.”

  “I don’t need your help, spawn of perdition!” Marduk spat at him and tried to pull himself up.

  “You’ve lost your weapon. Give it up,” Mark told him again and leaned his hands on his knees, resting his back which displayed several long gashes, oozing blood. They had both landed numerous glancing blows on each other, but nothing serious so far.

  Marduk strained and groaned and got both elbows up on the ledge. His face was a mask of rage and unbridled hatred. He’d tried to transform himself several times into the more hardy form that he generally used in the Abyss, but Ereshkigal had blocked his efforts quite effectively. The human form he wore was not well adapted to breathing the foul vapors Nergal was so fond of. His eyes burned and his lungs hurt as the errant wisps encircled his head from time to time. He kicked and fought for a toe hold on the slick sides of the pit.