The Perfect Sun Page 10
This tiny band of Bedouin, or whatever they were, was the only sign of life they had seen other than lizards, a few spiders and some odd, toad-like creatures, burrowing in the sand.
“See anything now?” Simon asked like an impatient child. He brushed his long, wispy blonde hair from his eyes and squinted into the distance.
“He looks like an angel,” Barry sang his answer to the tune of an old song as he watched the group coming toward them at about a fifteen degree angle. “He walks like an angel. He talks like an angel …”
“What?” Simon leaned over him again
“He’s the devil in disguise,” Barry said and almost laughed. “Our old friend.”
“Who?” Simon asked in alarm. “The devil?”
“Lucifer,” Barry said as he lowered the glasses and smiled at the Healer’s disheveled appearance. Barry was a sight to behold. His beard reached the middle of his chest and he had braided one strand on each side of his face. His sandy brown hair was well below his shoulders and his son, Adam, had braided several strands around his face to keep it out of his eyes. With the dirt and grime smeared on his face and his pale green, bloodshot eyes, he looked like a Viking Berserker.
“Luci…” Simon’s response was cut short by a sharp whistle from the other hummock.
Barry stood up along with the rest of the party behind him and watched while d’Brouchart waved wildly at them, and then pointed in a southwesterly direction. Barry adjusted the binoculars and focused on what the Master was pointing to. A loping creature about the size of full grown bull was stampeding across the desert, putting up a rooster tail of dust behind it. Its front legs were longer than its back legs, and its muscular forelimbs were not made primarily for running. Even at a distance, Barry could make out long dark claws on the front feet. The creature’s black tongue lolled out one side of its gaping mouth and a ridge of dark hair or spines ran down its back from the top of its pig-like head to the tip of its tail.
“Good God in Heaven!” He exclaimed and Simon took the glasses away from him.
“Thank God!” The Healer blurted excitedly. “What a relief!”
“What?” Barry reached for the binoculars. “What are you talking about, Brother, relief? If that thing comes this way, we’ll be in for it.”
Barry yanked the glasses back and looked again at the creature. He could see streamers of foam or saliva pouring from its mouth. He panned back across the landscape trying to find whatever it was planning to eat. If the thing caught wind of Lucifer and his band, there would be trouble and as far as Barry could see, the men with Lucifer were not his usual cronies, but a rather human-looking bunch, carrying automatic weapons over their shoulders. He was taken aback as he spotted a man on horseback several hundred yards in front of it, riding for his life.
“Is that Christopher or Apolonio?” Simon asked him as his sons and the other Knights crowded around them, all asking questions at once.
“By the Queen’s whiskers! I think it’s Christopher Stewart!” Barry shouted and flung the glasses on the ground. Luke Matthew scooped them up and trained them on the plain where the chase was in progress.
“His horse is going down,” Luke muttered. “He won’t make it!”
Barry and Simon were already mounted and riding out on an intersecting course. Dan, Izzy, Philip and Zeb were close behind him, pushing their ragged mounts to the limit. Already, they could hear the howling beast and the panicked shrieks of the Knight it was about to take down. Caution was thrown to the wind and within seconds, thirteen mounted men were bearing down on the animal. When they topped the ridge, brandishing a variety of weapons, the small band of wanderers stopped in their tracks and pulled their weapons from their shoulders, ready to defend themselves.
When the fleeing horse crested the ridge and then stumbled, throwing the Knight to the ground in a head over heels roll through the rippled sand, the men on foot swung around to face the second threat, shouting warnings to the sky.
When the maddened creature, intent upon supper came over the hill, stumbled over the horse, rolled completely over it and then scrambled to its feet, roaring and bellowing, the men on foot screamed in unison and began to flee back in the direction from which they had come, leaving Lucifer standing in the moonlight unarmed and all alone.
Christopher was up and running as fast as he could manage in the deep sand, but the creature had been distracted by the dead horse. It kicked up sand in every direction and then pounced on the horse, tearing out its midsection with the first bite of its horrific jaws.
The Knights and apprentices slowed their attack and then turned off to the northwest, willing to leave the thing to its feast in order to pick up their missing man and put distance between them. If this thing had found Apolonio and Konrad, there would be no hope of ever finding them alive. Edgard rode out in front, stopped beside Christopher and slung him onto the horse behind him before heading for Lucifer.
The angel was walking toward them with his arms spread on either side as if puzzled by all the commotion.
The Templars reined in as a body in front of the angelic chieftain, sliding past him in the sand and then turning back to stare at his strange attire.
“Greetings, Friends!” Lucifer smiled at them. “I bring glad tidings of great joy. A…”
The protracted howl of the beast drowned his next words as the thing took notice of this greater array of horseflesh and other delicacies and came charging after them.
Luke Matthew grabbed Lucifer’s arm and pulled him across the saddle in front of him, and then they were off again with the angel bouncing up and down in a most precarious position. The rest of his companions were still slogging along through the sand when they caught up with them and took them onto their poor beasts. Izzy’s horse went down and he doubled with his father. The second horse seemed to satisfy the creature enough to allow them to get over the next rise and out of sight.
“Sir!” Christopher shouted in Edgard’s ear. “The horses will all die, if we don’t stop soon!”
“I know that, Sir!” Edgard shouted back at him, but made no move to halt the rout. They continued on, reaching the next rise with the horses breathing loudly and lathering severely under them. The sound was terrible. Even if they stopped now, the horses would never recover. This would be their last ride on this adventure.
“Head for the water!!” Edgard shouted to the riders on his left and right. Louis’ horse dumped him and Zebulon picked him up. They started down the slope toward the rocky shore of one of the shimmering saltwater lakes. There weren’t enough rocks to give them cover from the ravening monster behind them. The thing had already abandoned the second horse’s carcass and started after them again. Their remaining hope was the creature would not care for water. D’Brouchart’s command was shouted up and down the line of chargers.
The laboring horses did not flinch at being ridden directly into the water. They were starving and thirsting. If they did not die of exhaustion or starvation or succumb to the jaws of the beast, they would kill themselves by drinking the salt water. The fate of the horses hardly mattered now. The fleeing band would have to make a stand on the shore or in the water. Either way, there would be casualties. The monster topped the final rise with a terrifying roar and started down the last stretch as the horses rode full tilt into the lake.
When Simon’s horse struck the surface of the lake, he recognized his father’s mistake too late. The last sound other than the frustrated roars of the beast was the echoing sound of the Healer’s shouted warning.
“Mercury!!!”
Chapter Five of Sixteen
they shall jostle one against another in the broad ways: they shall seem like torches, they shall run like the lightnings
“Now clear your mind as I have instructed,” the Golden Goddess closed her eyes and turned her face up to the sky. Luke Andrew followed suit and tried to think of nothing. The very act of trying to think of nothing was actually thinking of something as in nothing. He shook his head a
nd tried again to follow her instructions.
“Open your mind to the ether. Feel the energy of the Universe flowing through your mind. Feel the vortices swirling in your body. Your feet. Your knees. Your solar plexus. Your…”
“Wait!” Luke reached out one hand and touched her arm slightly. She lowered her head and cut her eyes at him. “I lost my train of thought.”
“You are not supposed to have a train of thought, Luke,” she said patiently. “You are supposed to have no thoughts at all. That is the purpose of clearing your mind so the thoughts of others may fill the space. Once you can hear the thoughts of others, you can begin to listen only to the voices you wish to hear.”
“All right. All right.” Luke drew a deep breath and closed his eyes before letting it out slowly. He went through the mental exercise again, emptying his head of thoughts as if he had known how to do it all along. At once, he heard a thousand whisperings, garbled, and then he saw a light in the middle of his forehead as if he were looking at himself from the outside.
“Good. Good.” Semiramis’ voice was soothing, and it was very hard for him not to wander back in time to another place when another woman of extraordinary character had tried to teach him to use his latent abilities. “Now listen. I will guide you. I am with you. I am inside your mind. I am one with you. Let me choose the voices, and we will hear the thoughts of our loved ones.”
Luke’s consciousness took another step downward, and he felt a warm sensation in the center of his body spreading outwards very quickly, and then a feeling of peace such as he had never known before. A voice came clearly to him as if the person speaking were standing directly in front of him. In fact, he could see the form of his half-brother in its bizarre entirety in front of him, and he smiled in spite of himself. The Mighty Djinni stood before him dressed in curling golden shoes, baggy purple pants, short gold vest and a flamboyant turban of enormous size.
“Is that how you see your brother?” Semiramis’ voice held a hint of amusement. “Listen. His message is urgent.”
Luke tore his attention from the appearance of the specter in order to focus on the words.
“Mother, I beg you. Hear the pleas of your favored son, Adalune. Why have you turned yourself from me? What have I done to displease you? My heart is broken, my life is ruined.”
“What does he mean?” Luke did not ask this question aloud, but it seemed Lemarik frowned directly at him.
“Mother! Who is this with you? Is that my brother? Is this why you have forsaken me? Surely you cannot love him more than me?”
Luke was taken aback by these plaintive words full of real pain and very real jealousy.
“My son, you dishonor me with your words. I have been teaching your brother as I taught you,” she said and there was a definite rebuke in her tone.
Again Luke was confused. What did she mean? Had she also taught her own son these things? All these things?
“He is not my son, Adalune,” she continued and Luke could only assume she could read his thoughts as well Lemarik’s. “He is your brother. He is his father’s son. Not mine. He is here as my… guest, not as my child. You are my only son, Adalune. How could anyone compete with you in that regard? A mother’s love for her children is beyond comparison of any other. You are the sole owner of this love, but you cannot compete with your father or your brothers for the lesser measure bestowed upon a lover.”
Luke felt sure that Lemarik would burst out of the vision and turn him into a toad or a slug.
“Ahhhh. Ohhhh. I am indeed misguided in my thoughts.” Lemarik’s bizarre attire disappeared and he re-appeared wearing the clothes had infuriated Luke during his first encounters with him. Black trousers, white dress shirt, black tie. The very same funeral attire in which Luke Andrew had been buried he had worn the first time Luke Andrew had seen him. “Forgive me.”
“What is your need, my son?” Semiramis asked him.
“Your firstborn grandson, Omar Adam, is ill. He has encountered the horror of Huber in the Abyss and she has affected his mind. Your presence might ease his suffering.”
“I will attend you directly, my son,” Semiramis’ voice seemed far away and then Lemarik’s form was gone.
The next voice was a shock. His father’s voice.
“Ahhh, Lily, now…The lassie is distraught, and she’s confused, and in pain, and…”
He and the golden goddess listened quietly to his father’s words. They could not hear the woman’s responses. When Luke could stand it no longer, he broke the spell.
“Where is he? What is going there?” Luke demanded of her.
“Do you not know who Lily is, my son?” She turned her crystal eyes on him.
“I don’t know any Lily, and I didn’t think my father did either,” he started angrily and then sighed. “Well, of course, I don’t know everyone he knows, him being such an old geezer and all.”
“Lily Ramsay is your grandmother.”
“Excuse me?” Luke frowned. “You mean the woman in the portrait in the parlor?”
“I’ve never been in your father’s parlor, Luke.” Semiramis smiled knowingly at him. “It would not surprise me if he should keep such a memento of her. She was… or is, quite lovely.”
“But he knew her ages ago. She’s dead.” Luke was still confused. “She’s been dead for a thousand years.”
“No one is truly dead, Luke. You should know that. Not even the mortals are truly mortal just as the immortals are not truly immortal.”
“Ahhhh.” The dawning realization made him grow even angrier. “Where is he keeping her? What has happened to Omar?”
“Oh, yes! That is the question, isn’t it?” She got up and held out her hand. They were on one of her terraces and the sun was sinking. “I should go and see about him. Won’t you go with me?”
“Where is he?” Luke could not believe she had gained so much insight from their brief excursion into the ether and he had gained only confusion.
“He is in his father’s palace. It isn’t far.”
(((((((((((((
“Come out Galipoli! I know you’re in there!” Bari shouted. He stood in front of the big stone house he’d only recently begun to think of as his home. Behind him, in various positions of disarray, lay or knelt or sat the Captain’s small contingent of Fox soldiers, sporting a range of injuries from concussions to badly bruised ribs, knees or ankles. Bari had actually done very little real harm to any of them, but had neatly taken them out of the picture. It was Galipoli he wanted.
The lacy draperies of the parlor moved slightly, and he knew his quarry had heard him; had seen him dispatch the soldiers with ease. They had come at him with their pistols and rifles, but he had disarmed them with nae tribble atoll as his great-grandfather might have said. He stood with both hands propped on the hilt of his Claymore. The silver blade was buried well into the sod beside the drive. His helmet gleamed dully under the coat of dew that had collected on the metal out of the early morning fog. The red plume drooped slightly, but he was still quite impressive. The armor his newfound ‘friend’ had devised for him was unparalleled by modern standards and quite in a category all its own. It looked somewhat Roman in design, and yet, there were elements of Troy and the ancient Achaeans mixed with a bit of what might have been something worn by Samson or even Solomon, the Wise. It was an eclectic mixture of bronze, copper, steel and leather and deemed by its maker to withstand anything the enemy might cast his way. A long nose piece covered the center of his face and made him resemble his grandfather in some ways. Lemarik preferred the Trojan style with elaborate nose pieces, plumes and crests, and Bari had inherited a great deal of his grandfather’s flare for the unexpected.
The front door swung open quietly, and Galipoli stepped onto the porch. He had no weapon… no visible weapon.
“Why did you come back, you whimpering whelp?” He asked in a low voice, dripping with contempt.
“I believe I owe you an explanation.” Bari smiled at him.
“Yes, I thought perhaps you might think it rude of me to have ended our little tête-à-tête so abruptly, without saying goodbye. My grandfather tells me rudeness is a very undesirable characteristic in a man.”
“Oh, and you think yourself a man? That is an effrontery in and of itself,” the Captain sneered. “I thought nothing of your disappearance. It seemed the best course of action for a simpering coward. I have no quarrel with you. I require only your slightest cooperation. The answers to a few questions. That’s all.” He took another step down, but Bari did not move, did not flinch.
“You and these puny creatures think you can hold me to some sort of pledge for the love of a woman?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea of what you are talking about.” Bari had to frown.
“Where is Uriel?”
“I know no one by that name. I told you that. What do you want with him?”
“If you do not know him, worm; why do you care?”
“I’m nosy. I’m a nosy worm. Yes, nosy.” Bari nodded his head slowly.
“Sir!” One of the soldiers shouted to his commanding officer “He’s dangerous, sir. He did something to our weapons. He’s dangerous!”
“Hush, little one,” Galipoli said and raised one hand, palm outward. He took another step down and was now on the walk in front of the house, only a few feet away from the striking warrior. “What do you propose to do to me?”
Bari pulled the heavy blade from the ground and raised it in a formal salute.