by Steven Brust
Michael said, “All right. When?”
“Now!” said Camael.
“Why not?” said Zaphkiel.
“All right,” said Michael, nodding. “Ten minutes to get to your positions, fifteen minutes to arrange for battle, then we’ll go.”
“I have the smallest unit,” said Zaphkiel. “I would like the honor of being in the middle, if I may have it.”
Michael nodded. “If you wish.”
Camael glowered at him for a moment, obviously wishing that he’d thought to ask first.
Zaphkiel had been telling the truth about wanting his unit to take the middle, but he had lied a bit about the reason. The arriving Seraph had allowed him to reach a few conclusions, bringing together things he had heard or seen but hadn’t been able to make sense of before.
Raziel had spoken to him, and from the questions he asked, Zaphkiel had realized that there was something unusual in some of the movements on the day Michael and Raphael had gone to bring back Satan. Zaphkiel had been following the activities of Lucifer, Lilith, As-modai, and Satan, as well as those of Yaweh, as closely as he could. He, like Yaweh, saw a mystery there—they were not acting as he would have expected them to.
He had noticed the disappearance of Raziel, as Yaweh had, but had left it a question mark, to be resolved later.
Unlike Yaweh, who had had confidence in the angels around him until recent events had damaged it, Zaphkiel had never had confidence in anything except his own judgment. So when things didn’t add up right, he was slow to brush them aside.
He still couldn’t solve anything, but one close look into the eyes of the Seraph delivering the message had allowed him to make several deductions.
He felt no sense of outrage and didn’t stop to consider whether anything that had been done was right or wrong, but he did see opportunity when it presented itself.
Therefore he made sure that his Order was in the middle of the attacking angels. He expected that, before long, it would be his Order in name, as well as in fact.
The first Satan heard of it were the shouts from the other end of the camp. He stood to see what was going on, but others had the same idea and he couldn’t see past them.
It was night, but swords reflected well in the light from the camp-fires. And when the shouts turned to screams, possibility became certainty.
For long moments he stood there in shock, unwilling to believe that Yaweh had betrayed him. Then as angels from his army began flying past him, yelling, and many limping or wounded, he moved forward.
An angel appeared before him, shouting wildly with sword cleaving air. Satan touched the emerald at his breast. It had worked well enough with the campfire; now he would see. . . .
There was no ripping, tearing effect of illiaster exploding around him, but the angel before him stopped, made a gurgling noise in his throat, and dissolved into nothingness.
Satan picked up the sword the other had dropped, his face devoid of expression, and swung it experimentally a few times. Another angel suddenly appeared before him, but before Satan could move, Beelzebub had him by the throat. The angel dropped his sword and clutched at Beelzebub, cried out once, and was silent. Then he was gone. Beelzebub turned to him. “One apiece, milord.”
Satan didn’t answer.
Another came in front of him. Satan swung clumsily and missed, but so did the other. Then Satan brought his sword up over his head and sent it crashing down on the other’s blade. The angel fell, holding his shoulder and looking up at Satan fearfully.
But the Regent of the South ignored him. He took another step forward while more and more of his army streamed by, running from the unexpected assault.
Another came before Satan, but his blade was held low and pointed to the side. Beelzebub crouched but didn’t spring.
Satan looked at the other angel. “Greetings, Zaphkiel,” he said calmly.
“Greetings, Lord Satan. Would you mind coming with me?”
“As it happens, Zaphkiel, I would. I have never had less of a mind to see Yaweh than right now.”
“Then you are a fool,” said Zaphkiel.
Satan shrugged. “I’m obviously a fool, or I wouldn’t have believed that Yaweh dealt in good faith.”
“Yaweh did deal in good faith.”
Satan snorted.
“I’m telling the truth,” said Zaphkiel in a matter-of-fact tone of voice. “When Yaweh learns of this, he will be furious. As will Michael. There is one angel to blame for this betrayal, and, I suspect, a great deal more. The way to deal with him is to expose him.
“You may not know it, but Yaweh has never heard your side of many events that have happened in the last few hundred days. I think, if you come with me, you will be pleased that you have done so. But I think you should move quickly. It took some doing to arrange these moments by ourselves in the midst of a battle, and I doubt that Ca-mael or Michael will think so highly of my idea.”
Satan cocked his head. “Why are you doing this?”
“Reasons of my own, of course, that I have no wish to discuss. But, as I say, we have little time.”
Satan looked down at Beelzebub. “What do you think?”
“I believe him, milord.”
Satan nodded. “All right, Beelzebub, find Lucifer. Tell him to take command and to bring the armies to Leviathan. If I don’t return, he is on his own. And may he make better decisions than I!”
“Aye, milord,” said Beelzebub, and he was gone.
Satan threw his sword to the ground. “I’m at your disposal.”
“Good,” said Zaphkiel.
“Maybe,” said Satan. “But how do we get there through the middle of a battle?”
“My scouts have explored this terrain. I know paths to the Palace that won’t be used. Follow me.”
“That does it, Sith.”
“What does what, Kyriel?”
“This is absurd. The way they hit us back there. Why didn’t we get any warning? You know, one of them almost had me!”
“We didn’t have any sentries posted, that’s why.”
“And why didn’t we?”
“Because Yaweh had promised—”
“So what? After all this, they believe Yaweh? Hnuh! He’s no fool. He knew he could sucker Satan in any time he wanted to. We had ’em, and we let ’em go. Is that how you win a war?”
“That isn’t my job, Kyriel. I’m just here to fight.”
“Then you’re as big an idiot as Satan is. Why are you just standing there looking at me? Do you like being in a war where everyone making decisions on your side is a fool, or worse?”
“No. But I’m on the right side, and it’s all we have.”
“The right side is the one that wins, Sith.”
“Maybe. If you think so, and if you think we aren’t going to win, why are you staying?”
“Staying with what? Where’s the army now?”
“I saw a few angels heading west, so I imagine that’s where we’re going to gather. That’s why we’re walking this way.”
“Yeah? Well then, I’m going to walk east.”
“Michael is that way, Kyriel.”
“So I’ll join Michael. Maybe I’ll be on the winning side for a change.”
“If that’s what you feel you must do.”
“By the flux, Sith! What’s got into you? You walk around like you’re asleep, and you talk like you don’t care about anything anymore.”
“I care, Kyriel. But if you want to leave, I won’t stop you.”
“By Heaven itself, I will, then!”
“Fare well, Kyriel.”
“Farewell, and good riddance!”
Beelzebub caught up to Satan and Zaphkiel half a league from the Palace.
“I’m glad you decided to join me, old friend, but it was unwise.”
“Thy orders were given, milord.”
“Good.”
“Meseemeth the lord Lucifer to think ill of thy doings here, milord. He thinks thou wilt be killed.”
“Maybe I will,” said Satan. “But not alone,” he added, touching his emerald.
Zaphkiel appeared not to notice. He took them the long way around the Palace, passing through the woods at the top of the hill. Beelzebub led them through this, pointing out trees and roots and stones in a whisper so that Satan and Zaphkiel would not trip in the darkness.
As they left the woods, the lights from the Palace set up enough illumination so that they could see their path somewhat. Zaphkiel held up his hand for them to wait.
Soon they saw a pair of angels with swords walking by. As they disappeared around the other side of the Palace, Zaphkiel motioned them forward.
They ran, as quietly and as quickly as they could, to a small door. Zaphkiel opened it and they stepped inside, shutting it softly.
They found themselves in a poorly lit hallway. This they followed for several turnings until they came to another door.
“Now,” said Zaphkiel, “act confident.”
They nodded.
He opened the door, and they stepped out into a large hall filled with angels, many of whom were sleeping. Zaphkiel strode forward, nodding to them, and went for the door into the throne room.
A Cherub moved to bar the way and started to speak, but Zaph-kiel snapped, “Out of the way, idiot.” Before the other could decide what to do, they were past.
“Wonderful guards,” muttered Satan.
Then things happened quickly. As soon as they were inside, Zaph-kiel slammed the door shut and drove his sword under it as a wedge. There were cries, and the two Seraphim who were awake leapt at them while the other, Uriel, woke up.
There was a flurry of movement, and one of them was on the floor, Beelzebub’s teeth at his throat. The other was against a wall, gritting his teeth while Zaphkiel coolly held his arm pinned behind his back.
Uriel, awake now, rushed forward. Satan touched his emerald and a portion of the floor vanished as Uriel set his foot there. Uriel gave a cry and fell over. Satan walked up to him and hit him in the back of the head. Uriel stopped moving.
Satan walked forward, past Uriel, and looked at the two figures on the thrones. He addressed the stranger first.
“You must be Yeshuah,” he said. “I’ve heard much about you.”
“And I,” said Yeshuah, his eyes blazing, “have heard much of you. How did you manage to seduce that one?” He indicated Zaphkiel.
“It’s pleasing to know, Zaphkiel, that you didn’t trick me. That is a real pleasure, since it seems that everyone else has.”
Yawch spoke then, holding his sceptre high. “If you’ve come to destroy me, you’ll not find it easy, I think.”
“Likewise,” said Satan.
There were cries from the other side of the door and sounds of it beginning to give way.
“As it happens, I’m only here to talk. Zaphkiel tells me that you didn’t order the attack on us this evening.”
Yaweh’s eyes widened. “Attack! There was no attack.”
“There are several score of angels who would argue with that, if they could.”
Zaphkiel turned. “Including the Seraph you sent with the message to Michael, I think.”
Yaweh sat down heavily. “Michael attacked you?”
Satan nodded. “Yes. And I’m convinced now that it wasn’t by your orders. That is what Zaphkiel tried to tell me. He also said that many things we’ve been accusing each other of weren’t done by us. He said I should speak to you about it.”
Yaweh seemed to be in shock. Yeshuah said, “Should we speak with them then, Father? If so, we should do something about those who are about to break down our door.”
Yaweh nodded dumbly. Yeshuah went up to the door and yelled. “Stand back! All is well. I’m opening the door now.”
The noise from the other side ceased. Yeshuah removed the sword that was holding it closed and opened it. “All is well,” he said. “Wait out here, though, until you are needed.”
There were sounds of agreement from the other side. Yeshuah returned as Zaphkiel and Beelzebub released the Seraphim they were holding. These rose and helped Uriel stand up. He seemed to be recovering.
“Well,” said Satan, “where should we begin? How about with Ariel? That’s what bothers me the most, I think.”
Yaweh looked puzzled. “I don’t know anything about Ariel. But why did you refuse my first invitation?”
“I never received an invitation.”
Yaweh shook his head. “I don’t—Uriel, bring Gabriel in here.”
Uriel hastened to comply.
Mephistopheles was in an upstairs hallway awaiting Yaweh’s reply when he heard the commotion below. He walked down and discovered that the door was sealed from the inside and that some one or ones had sneaked past. Since the Cherubim had decided not to say anything at all beyond that, it took him several minutes to find out that Zaphkiel had brought Satan and Beelzebub in to see Yaweh, and that they had been in there for some time now with Yaweh’s approval.
It took him several more minutes to figure out what must be happening, and it was only confirmed when a Seraph left the room and returned a few moments later with Abdiel walking behind him.
As the door closed, Mephistopheles remarked, “It might not be a bad idea to guard this door well.”
One of the Cherubim looked at him, then looked away. Mephi-stopheles shrugged. “There is a chance that someone will come flying out of that room in a moment, and if you stop him, you won’t have to—”
The door flung open. Abdiel came dashing out, down the hall, and was gone.
“Catch him!” cried Yeshuah, appearing at the door.
Mephistopheles sighed. “I’m so smart I almost can’t stand it,” he remarked to no one in particular.
As the Cherubim started off, Yaweh appeared at the door. “Let him go,” he said. “He’s done his damage; we can catch him later.”
The door closed. One of the Cherubim turned to make some remark to Mephistopheles, but Mephistopheles was nowhere to be seen.
“I don’t quite know how to take all this, Satan.”
The Regent shook his head. “I don’t either. I feel that we’ve been
fighting for no reason—and yet, have we?”
“I don’t know. But it seems that neither of us want to fight, and
our reasons for fighting never existed.” Satan nodded.
“Well then,” Yaweh continued, “how do we end the war?” “I’ll return to my army and tell them . . . hmmmm.” “Exactly. Tell them what? That you are now willing to cooperate
with the Plan? That I no longer am? Though one thing I’ll do now.”
He turned to Zaphkiel. “You are now Chief of the Order of Thrones.
Return to the field and tell Michael to cease hostilities until further
notice. Also tell him to inform everyone that Abdiel is to be found.” “Yes,” said Zaphkiel, and left. “In any case,” said Yaweh, “we’re going to have to find a way to
cease hostilities permanently. And remember, I will not abandon the
Plan.”
Satan shrugged. “Are you willing to be honest about it?”
Yaweh furrowed his brow. “What does that mean?”
“It means, are you willing to explain to everyone what dangers
there are? How many may be destroyed, and try to convince them
that it is the right thing? If you’ll do that—”
“Father.”
Yaweh turned to him. “Yes?”
“It won’t work.”
“What do you mean?”
“In the minds of the hosts, those on both sides, you are committed to destroying Satan. Do you think you can announce that it was all a misunderstanding? You’ll be laughed out into the flux—both of you.”
Satan narrowed his eyes and studied him.
“What are you saying?” asked Yaweh.
“There must be a surrender. Complete and full. And an apology.”
“I don’t see why,” said Yaweh.
&
nbsp; “Because you have claimed to be the father of us all—the creator of Heaven, practically omnipotent. He has opposed you. There must be an apology and then forgiveness, or our credibility is destroyed forever—and the Plan with it.”
Yaweh shook his head. “Wouldn’t it be just as bad if I claimed to forgive him?”
Yeshuah nodded. “Yes, Father. After all of this, you can’t forgive him. But I can.” He turned his head and looked fully at Satan. “I do,” he said.
Yaweh nodded slowly. “You’re right,” he said. He turned to Satan. “Will you do it?”
“Just what,” said Satan, “are you asking?”
“That you publicly say that you were wrong to oppose me. To call on those who trust you to serve me. To back up my claim to being supreme Lord of Heaven. To bow down to Yeshuah as King Anointed after me, the supreme being of Heaven. To—”
“Lie through my teeth? No!”
“What do you mean?”
Satan’s eyes blazed with green fire. “I’ll see myself thrown into the flux first!”
Yaweh’s eyes opened wide. “I don’t understand.”
“Every decision you have made, as far as I know, has been right. Every decision I have made, from what I can see, has been wrong. But there is one thing: I have never lied about who I was, what I was doing, or why I was doing it. You have done all of these.”
Yaweh started to speak, but Satan cut him off.
“I know why you did it now, and I understand. But I will not support you in these lies and half-truths. All I have left from this mayhem is that I know I was always honest and did the best I could. I will not throw that out.
“No! There has been too much. I will not admit to something I think is wrong. Had you gone before all the hosts and simply told them the truth instead of creating a false image of yourself as some sort of god, and creating this, this thing here as some sort of demigod, this wouldn’t have happened.”
Yaweh’s face twisted for a moment, but he got the better of his anger and said, “If you object to my claiming godship because it is a lie, my only choice is to make it truth. I have said that any who oppose my son will be cast out from Heaven. I will prove my godhood by doing so. Is that what you want?”