by C. L. Roman
“Truly, but love of Sabaoth is paramount. Obedience to Him is the first duty of that love. Fomor betrayed this law when he knowingly avoided the call.”
“But he has acted honorably in all else. He did not fight against Jehovah Sabaoth in the battle.”
“He has acted as he thought best. This is not the same as acting honorably,” Bellator snorted. His words were shards of ice as he continued, “He betrayed Sabaoth. His destruction is assured.”
“Then allow me to take his punishment,” her voice was low, but carried clearly over Fomor’s strangled protest.
“Danae, no! Sir, she has no part in this! She doesn’t know what she is saying.” Fomor struggled against his guards, straining to place himself between Danae and Bellator. The general ignored him and crossed to Danae, reaching down gently to draw her to her feet.
“Cousin, what you ask cannot be considered. But the fact that you offer it gives me pause. What is this rebel to you that you would offer your life for his?”
“He is my heart. Without him I am destroyed,” she whispered in a broken voice. “So you see, what I offer is not so selfless as it might seem.” She shrugged her shoulders, turned her palms up in helpless plea. “I love him.”
“Aahh.” One black brow shot upward and the general placed a finger against his pursed lips. “You give me much to consider dear one. There is much of the light of Jehovah-Rophe in you.” He held up his hand as Fomor would have spoken again. “Silence. I had not considered the possibility that you might form – attachments – here.”
He strolled slowly between the members of the unit, pausing before each angel and staring deeply into their eyes. Gant, Sena, Phaella and Jotun stood passively under his scrutiny and he passed them by after a moment or two. Volot stared impassively past the general, as if refusing to meet his eyes directly were a point of pride. Bellator said nothing, merely raising that black brow again before passing on to Adahna.
“Lieutenant Adahna, it has been a long time. As I remember you always had a very orderly, logical turn of mind. I would like your report of the unit’s activities, both corporate and individual.”
“Certainly, sir. From what point in time?” Adahna’s voice was cool, but she could not keep herself from sliding a single, lightning fast glance in Fomor’s direction before snapping her gaze back, razor straight.
“Oh, let’s start with your decision to join Fomor in this little sojourn, shall we? No need to go all the way back to the beginning.” The general didn’t bother to hide the sarcasm.
“Very well, sir. Captain Fomor, myself and Lieutenant Volot met in his quarters shortly before the first attack. Fomor said that Lucif – Lucky was planning an attack on the throne within the next twenty-four hours, but that the Central Command was aware of it and was already taking counter measures. At that time Captain Fomor gave Lieutenant Volot and I the option of honorable reassignment to another unit or of following him to Earth.”
“Close your mouth, Adahna!” Fomor’s sharp command cracked across the silence, demanding obedience, but she only smiled at him gently before continuing.
“Both of us chose the latter. After that the captain sent Volot to give the same option to Jotun and Sena while the captain himself planned to meet with Lieutenants Phaella and Gant for the same purpose. I was to shift to Earth as logistics officer and scout locations for a temporary camp.”
“And how did Captain Fomor come to know of the coming attack?” Bellator asked.
“He indicated that he had been approached by one of Lucky’s officers. They asked him to join them, threatened to destroy him if he didn’t. He refused.”
“I see, and how did he survive that encounter?”
Confusion marred Adahna’s features. “How did he? I don’t understand, sir.”
Bellator sighed, “If they threatened to destroy him, how did he escape them?”
Adahna frowned, “I don’t know, sir. I was not present at the time and it has not been discussed between us. I—”
“I shifted,” Fomor interjected with unconcealed impatience. “I pretended to be interested in their offer and asked for a few moments alone to think it over. By the time they came back, I was gone. Adahna, I told you to be quiet.”
Bellator looked at the captain thoughtfully, “Interesting. It would seem that even the Fallen were, at least at that time, unused to subterfuge, yet you seem to have mastered the art early.” Fomor flushed scarlet, but said nothing and Bellator turned back to the logistics officer. “Carry on.”
Adahna squared her shoulders, took a deep breath and continued. “Each of us went our separate ways. I shifted to Earth, scouted a location for our base camp and then went back and communicated the coordinates to Sena who passed them along to Captain Fomor and Lieutenant Volot before shifting down herself. I have no direct knowledge of what happened in Par-Adis after that and so cannot report on it.” She paused, but the general said nothing.
“Some days after all the members of the unit shifted down, we saw what we interpreted as the final battle. The Fallen fell from Par-Adis and we knew they had been vanquished but not obliterated. We traveled for some time. We kept alert for enemy action but saw little evidence that the Fallen were doing anything other than licking their wounds.” She looked to Bellator for some indication of how her words were being received but he simply stared back at her impassively.
“Eventually we stumbled across the village of Nephel. The people here welcomed us and what was intended as a temporary respite was extended. We have been able to be of some use to them. The captain destroyed a rogue angel a short time ago, no doubt preventing untold misery and loss of life in the village.”
Silence reigned for a few moments while Bellator waited for Adahna to continue. When he saw that she felt her report was complete he nodded once, stalking from one member of the unit to the next, settling finally on Volot.
“So, Lieutenant Volot, as second in command, do you agree with your logistics officer’s account?” Volot jerked his head down once in crisp assent. “And you have nothing to add?” Volot swallowed hard but remained silent. Bellator opened his mouth to press, but was interrupted as Jotun cleared his throat.
“Lieutenant…Jotun, is it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You have something to add?” Bellator’s tone was not encouraging, but Jotun replied easily.
“Sir, you should know more of the rogue that Fomor destroyed. There are disturbing implications to its actions that may have an impact on your decisions regarding the captain and this unit.”
Bellator paced slowly to stand in front of Jotun, less than an inch in front of the training officer’s face. He stared intently into his eyes. Jotun stared back without flinching until Bellator relaxed and stepped back.
“Very well, Lieutenant Jotun, what are these “actions” that you feel I should know about?”
Jotun’s face remained expressionless, his body at attention as he reported. “The rogue’s name was Bansh. He was a known associate of Lucky’s in Heaven but indicated to Captain Fomor that he no longer held to that loyalty.”
Bellator’s eyebrow rose but Jotun ignored it and continued.
“When he was discovered, Bansh had attacked and was—” the struggle to say the words showed on Jotun’s face, and was swiftly controlled, “feeding on a human victim.”
Bellator paled at this, his expression registering disbelief and horror. Whispers of shocked incredulity rippled through his own unit until he held up a hand for silence.
“You are certain of this?” he asked. Jotun nodded and Bellator looked intently into his face before coming to apparent acceptance. “Very well, continue.”
“In the end, just before Fomor destroyed him, Bansh claimed that he had attacked the human in order to preserve his own life. He claimed that the blood of the human would heal the wounds he had received in the final battle. That was his excuse,” Jotun’s lips twisted as he spat out the last words, “for murdering an innocent.”
Bel
lator drew back, his face draining of color, leaving his ebony skin a waxy dun color. He looked to Fomor for confirmation and received it in the curt jerk of the captain’s head.
“And so,” the general murmured, “the wisdom of El Elyon is confirmed once again.”
No one spoke but the angels of Bellator’s unit visibly relaxed. Even the two holding Fomor seemed to keep their hands on his arms less for restraint than appearances. Fomor’s unit exchanged sidelong glances with one another but remained at attention, uncertain of what might happen next though the change in the atmosphere around them was palpable.
“Release him,” Bellator snapped out the order and the guards dropped Fomor’s arms. Bellator eyed Fomor sourly. “Will you come with me?” Phrased as a request, the words nevertheless carried the weight of command. Fomor bowed his head slightly and followed the general into the surrounding trees.
Left to themselves the rest of the company sagged in relief. Sena caught Danae as her legs gave way beneath her and helped her to a seat by the fire.
“So, what was Bellator talking about, what confirmation?” Adahna demanded.
One of Bellator’s unit, pale as milk, red haired, and reed thin, folded his arms across his chest and smiled grimly. “Not that any of you deserve it, but it seems that El Elyon has a use, even for traitors. Your unit is about to receive a new mission.”
Jotun barely caught Volot’s arm in time as he prepared to leap across the fire at the smaller angel’s insult. Swords hissed out of scabbards and wings unfurled. The air around the fire sizzled with light.
“Children, children. Let us not fight.” Jotun remained seated, holding Volot firmly in place beside him. “There is, after all, a human present.”
Eyes wide, face slack with terror, Danae huddled under Sena’s outstretched wings. As one, the company made a deliberate effort to relax. Wings became tattoos, sliding smoothly under tunics, swords were sheathed and the light faded until only that of the fire and stars remained. Finally Adahna spoke.
“Sena, take Danae home. It is getting late, as humans count time. Her parents will worry about her.”
“No!” Danae roused from her fear to protest. “Fomor is – I cannot leave until I know how it is with him.”
Adahna’s eyes shone with sympathy, but she shook her head firmly. “You can do no good here. When there is news we will bring it to you. And this is not a good place for you right now. Go with Sena.”
Danae glanced desperately around the fire but found no help there. In this, if in nothing else, the entire group seemed to be in agreement. Finally she accepted the inevitable and allowed Sena to lead her from the circle.
“And now,” Jotun’s wolfish grin glimmered in the firelight, “shall we wait in peace brothers?”
The thin angel who had spoken earlier matched him tooth for gleaming tooth. “We shall wait – brother.”
The pause was deliberately insulting. Jotun felt Volot tense once more to spring and simply tightened his grip while leaning back and stretching his feet out to the fire. “Then we might as well be comfortable, yes?”
No one replied.
In the trees beyond the firelight, the tension stretched equally thin and icy between the two officers.
“First things first. How did you know?”
Fomor didn’t know what he had expected, but it wasn’t this prosaic question and he blinked at the general. “Know what?
“How did you know that Central Command already knew about the coming attack?”
Fomor flushed a deep red and his lips drew into a tight line.
“Come now,” Bellator coaxed. “You said the Fallen told you of it, asked you to join them, but they couldn’t have known that Central Command had the information already. How did you find out?”
Grudgingly, the words came. “After I escaped from Lucky’s recruiters I knew I had to take the information to Central. I was waiting in the ante-chamber of your office and I overheard you dictating some kind of memo to your secretary about the coming attack. I didn’t hear much, but it was enough to realize you didn’t need my help.”
The general stared at him for some moments, a small smile playing about his lips. “So, you do have some sense of duty after all,” he said finally.
Fomor made an impatient gesture. “I would prefer to dispense with the formalities, General,” he grated. “It makes no sense to drag this out. I insist, however, that my team be held blameless. Regardless of how they see it, they were just following orders, nothing more.”
“Then Adahna gave a false report,” Bellator asked.
“No. That is, she—”
Bellator shook his head, “Enough, Fomor. You and I both know that you and your entire team are guilty of treason. As such you have no right to insist on anything, let alone—”
“We committed no treason! We did not fight against Jehovah Sabaoth!”
“Neither did you fight for Him!” Bellator’s voice held the sharp, cold, snap of cracking ice as he shoved his face close to the captain’s.
Fomor almost retreated a step before the bigger angel’s fury, but he stopped himself and held firm. With some effort Bellator mastered his temper and moved back. He took a moment to breathe, adjusting his tunic as if by smoothing it he could also smooth over the rough edges of his rage.
“Did you really think you could hide anything from El Roi – the God Who Sees? Did you forget, even as Lucifer did, that there is nothing hidden from Him?”
Despair settled over Fomor; his legs became weak so that it took all his strength to remain upright.
“No, I see that you did not. Perhaps you only hoped that I would forget. But I did not. You are under condemnation, all of you,” Bellator hissed, then watched the effect of his words on the younger angel.
Fomor stood before him, staring at the ground, utterly defeated and unable to respond, thereby missing the sadness in the general’s gaze.
“And that, at the moment, is beside the point.”
The quiet statement had Fomor’s head snapping up. “What?” Fomor’s voice was scarcely a whisper.
“Do yourself a favor Fomor, be quiet and listen. For reasons known only to Himself, Jehovah Sabaoth has decided to give you a chance to redeem yourself. You and your team are to act as protectors to the humans of this village and their descendants. And before you start dancing in celebration, know this – none of you are welcome in Par-Adis. Your permanent residence is Earth now and shall remain so indefinitely.”
Fomor’s face went blank, the roil of emotion chasing itself through his gut so intense that no one feeling was able to show through the wall of shock enveloping him. He was not to be destroyed. He was an outcast, but not one of the Fallen. His team was safe from destruction, but banished from their home, because of him. They had been given new orders. He would be able to stay with Danae.
The general was speaking again but Fomor barely heard the older officer over the buzzing between his own ears. Finally, Bellator lost patience, snapping his fingers under Fomor’s nose to drag his attention back to the current situation.
“Wake up Captain! You’ve been sentenced, now I need to brief you before getting on with my own duties. You may be a major bungler, but you aren’t the only one and I have a number of things to see to before I return home.”
“We are to protect Nephel’s family?” At Bellator’s curt nod, Fomor struggled to understand. “From who?”
“Are you deaf, Captain? What have I been explaining for the last ten minutes?” Frustration rippled over the general’s face, then irritation. He glanced at the sun and then drew a deep breath, gesturing to a nearby fallen log. “There are things you need to know Captain – things about your team that you won’t like, but that you had better pay attention to if you’re going to survive.”
Even as some small portion of his mind noted that they had somehow wound up at the same place where he and Danae had spoken only a short time before, Fomor struggled to absorb the implications. What was there – how much was there �
� about his unit that he didn’t know? The two seated themselves and Bellator began his briefing again.
***
“And so, we find ourselves in an odd position. Neither fallen nor favored, but somewhere in between.” An hour later Fomor was back at the campsite, giving his own briefing. The general had taken his team to its next assignment, leaving behind a unit of angels who were both relieved and shaken to the core.
“So we were wrong,” Jotun deduced. “The war is not over?”
Fomor nodded in confirmation. “Far from it. What we experienced was only the first battle. The disobedient, both human and angel, have been expelled from their favored places, but not destroyed.”
“Lucky’s army is damaged, fallen, but he remains a threat,” Adahna spoke softly, while she traced a map in the sand of the entire oasis.
“But what could he want here?” Volot protested. “How does destroying humans serve him?”
“We don’t know that he wants anything here. We don’t even know if he’s aware of us or this village, but – well that’s where it gets complicated.” Fomor looked around the circle of faces. What he had to say would shock them. He hoped it would bring them hope as well, and a sense of purpose.
“We are not the first of our kind to arrive here on Earth.”
Volot gestured impatiently, “We know that, Fomor. Sabaoth himself made daily trips in the first days. After that He—”
“After the closing of the garden he came less often in person, but sent others to bring messages to guide and protect as needed. As the human race expanded, angelic contact with them increased slowly. This, in turn, led to another kind of contact. We are not the first to feel, attracted, shall we say, to humans.” He paused a moment, letting them absorb the new information. Letting them draw conclusions.
“So what? Other angels liked the humans, formed friendships with them?” Sena floundered.
“Not just friendships little one.” Jotun looked at Fomor. “It explains their size, for one thing.”
“I had wondered about that. In all the other villages we’ve been through – none of the humans we’ve seen before topped four and a half cubits. Here the shortest among them is at least five and most are taller,” Adahna added.
