The Weapon Bearer's Son

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The Weapon Bearer's Son Page 10

by Steven F. Warnock


  KC was starting to warm to her subject now. “Alright, so, Balor’s wife, Cethlenn, is a prophetess, and she tells Balor that he will be defeated and slain by his own grandson. Balor isn’t having any of that, so he locks his daughter, Ethniu, away either in the top of the tower or in a dungeon. Either way, he pulls a Rapunzel on her to keep her a virgin instead of doing the smart thing and killing her.”

  “Harsh,” Athena winced.

  “But painfully pragmatic,” Mack chuckled.

  “Shush, the both of you,” KC admonished. “Where was I? Okay, right, so, poor Ethniu is locked away in the fortress, probably under guard by eunuchs and shield maidens, you know, nobody capable of knocking her up. Now, along comes a Tuatha De named Cian who has either heard of a damsel in distress or knows about Ethniu’s part in Cethlenn’s prophesy and has decided that he needs to be the one to rescue her or knock her up depending on how cynical you’re feeling.”

  “This is why you’re the romance writer in the family, right, Mack?” Athena teased.

  “I’m telling a story here!” KC groused. “Anyway, before I was so rudely interrupted, Cian goes all ninja and sneaky-sneaks into Balor’s tower where he finds Ethniu, and they, you know, boink.”

  “’Boink’?” Athena repeated. “That’s your euphemism for sex?”

  “No, her euphemism for sex is ‘aggressive cuddling’,” Mack informed the room.

  “The aggressive cuddling results in the conception of Lugh,” KC loudly proclaimed over the other two. “Once again, Balor ain’t having that. First, he catches Cian and has some of his henchmen kill him. Then, he personally fits the baby with, as they say in the old gangster movies, cement galoshes and drops Baby Lugh into the ocean. However, Manannan the god of the sea saves Lugh from drowning and raises the boy like his own son. Lugh returns later as the king of the Tuatha De and in the great battle to end all battles, slays his grandfather just as his grandmother predicted. How’s that?”

  “You left out a few details but otherwise you got the story across mostly accurately,” Uncle Ebenezer said.

  “Well, it’s a thousands of years old legend, and there’s three different versions of it that I know,” KC replied.

  Uncle Ebenezer clapped his hands and laughed. “Well done, Niece. The basic facts of your version of the story are true. Balor was a Fomorian leader with incredible powers. His wife was a prophetess who predicted his death, and Lugh was his grandson through a daughter. Her real name, though, was Feada, and she was given in marriage to Cian Mac Cinnfhaelaidh as a sort of peace offering between Balor’s tribe of Fomori and Cian’s tribe of Tuatha De. Unfortunately, Balor stole the enchanted cow of one of Cian’s allies, which led Cian to attacking his father-in-law to get the animal back, and that’s how Cian met his end, killed by Balor. Feada, who had fallen in love with her husband, refused to be returned to her father’s care because she was already pregnant with Cian’s child, and she knew her father would kill her and the baby anyway. So, she fled from her father’s territory deeper into the lands held by the Tuatha De where she gave birth to her son, Lugh.

  “Lugh was then given over into the care of Cian’s brother, Gavida the Smith, and eventually, Lugh grew up to be a mighty warrior. Gavida forged a sword and shield for Lugh that were strong enough to protect him from Balor’s killing gaze, and with those weapons in hand, Lugh met his grandfather on the battlefield where he fulfilled his part of the prophecy. The problem for our family is that Feada was not an only child. She had a brother, Balor Mac Balor, who swore eternal revenge on Lugh and all of his descendants.”

  “So, did Balor, Junior have a magic eye, too?” Mack asked.

  “Balor’s Eye wasn’t his own actual eye,” Uncle Ebenezer replied. “Excuse me for a moment.” He returned to the dinner table with the leather book Mack had taken from the messenger bag in his earlier search. “Mack, put your thumb right there, please.”

  Uncle Ebenezer was pointing to an indentation on the metal lock that held the book closed. Mack shrugged and did as he was asked. He felt a pinprick in his thumb, and the lock fell open even as he jerked his thumb back. He was fast enough to see the tiny pin retracting into the lock.

  “Magic lock. Needs the blood of a true Llewellyn to open,” Ebenezer explained.

  “Final test to prove I’m me?” Mack asked.

  “No, just a nice confirmation of what I already believe,” Ebenezer replied as he thumbed through the pages of the book.

  The volume was handwritten and painstakingly illustrated. Ebenezer stopped on a particular page and turned it so that the others could see. He pointed to the item illustrated in the center of the page.

  “Balor’s Eye is an artifact, a diadem or crown, the central feature of which is Lucifer’s Left Eye.”

  Mack pointed to the stone in the center of the golden circle. “That’s what they call this big pearl?”

  “Yes, because it is literally Lucifer’s left eye,” Ebenezer confirmed. “You see, when Saint Michael cast Satan out of Heaven, his spirit passed through many worlds on its way to the deepest Brimstone Earth that we think of as Hell. As his spirit passed through the worlds of the multiverse, pieces of Lucifer’s soul and material form were shredded away, imbuing random artifacts with slivers of his power. His left eye landed in Annwn, coming to rest in a giant oyster’s shell. The pearl formed around the eye, but not quickly enough to save the oyster. It was eventually immolated by the eye. Balor’s grandfather, one of the Fallen, found the pearl and fashioned a setting for it that would allow the power to be controlled. Over time Neit poured his own spirit into it, but he didn’t become a lich like you would expect. Instead, his body died, and his son, Buarainech, claimed the Left Eye of Lucifer for himself. What he didn’t know was that his father had cursed the diadem so that his spirit could possess his son’s body, trapping Buarainech’s soul in the Eye.”

  “Did Balor kill his father for the Eye?” Mack asked.

  Ebenezer nodded. “He did because that was the Eye’s curse on those who would use Lucifer’s power. In order to possess the power, you must kill your forebear, and you will be killed, in turn, by a descendant.”

  “Only Lugh didn’t claim the eye, did he?” KC guessed.

  “No, and that trapped Balor’s spirit in the Eye, changing it from Lucifer’s Eye to Balor’s Eye and altering the curse. A prophecy came to Balor Mac Balor that he would be invulnerable to any man or woman lest that be person be a descendant of Lugh bearing the Sword of Lugh, the Sword of Light. Sure enough, Lugh’s own grandson, Fian Mac Lugh, slays Balor Mac Balor with the Sword of Light. Then, Balor’s Eye falls into the hands of a nephew, also a Mac Balor... pretty much anybody who claimed the Eye got called ‘Mac Balor’ even if they weren’t a direct descendant. This one receives a prophecy that he will die at the hands of a daughter of Lugh, a granddaughter or great-granddaughter. Sure enough, this hot head attempts to rape a young woman who stabs him with a golden knitting needle, and he dies instantly. On and on it goes. The prophecies these ‘sons of Balor’ receive are quite specific about who their slayer will be, and they go to great lengths to find and kill the Llewellyn (as we began to call ourselves) destined to slay them.”

  “What does this have to do with Mom and Dad?” Mack asked.

  “The current Son of Balor to possess the Eye is a man named Avidan Baylor, the Gvidanto of Southwestern North America. Althea and Bartholomew are his children, his personal Cutters. When Avidan came to possess the Eye from a second cousin, his prophesy was this...”

  Ebenezer began thumbing through pages of the book.

  “What’s a ‘give-a-dan-toe’?” Athena asked.

  “’Guh-vee-dahn-to’,” Ebenezer corrected. “It’s the Malhumila Frateco’s version of a mafia don.”

  “He’s the godfather of Mexico, California, Nevada, Utah, Arizona, New Mexico, and west Texas,” Mack explained. “There are five Gvidantoy in North America: one over Alaska and Canada, one each over the northeast, the southeast, and the northwest, and this
guy.”

  “There were six until Avidan claimed the Eye and seized control of Mexico with it,” Ebenezer added. “Here it is. Avidan’s Prophesy.” He cleared his throat and began to read, “The Last Daughter of the Welsh Children of Lugh, a Tuath De of great power and grace, will bear the Chosen Weapon that will smite down Avidan Mac Balor.”

  “So, he killed Mom because she was destined to kill him,” Mack sighed.

  “He, um, misinterpreted the prophecy,” Ebenezer said. “Marian had already fulfilled her part of the prophecy when Beta shot her and your father. You see, these prophesies don’t come in English or even Gaelic. They’re delivered in Enochian.” He turned the book so that the others could see it. The page with the prophecy was covered in strange runic symbols. “The Baylors have a book like this, taken from a Child of Lugh they killed, which passes with the Eye to each new Mac Balor. It’s how the curse’s prophecy is delivered to them, but their knowledge of written Enochian is basic to say the least.”

  “Because Enochian is a partially telepathic language,” Mack said as he stared at the page with Avidan’s Prophesy inscribed on it.

  “What?” Athena blurted.

  “Spoken Enochian is a nonsense language,” Ebenezer explained. “The actual data contained within the speech is transmitted telepathically using the nonsense sounds as a medium of transmission. Written Enochian is much the same. You can piece together the words into most any language that you natively speak, but the meaning behind those words can only be truly understood by someone who is a native Enochian speaker, and only two kinds of beings in this corner of the multiverse, other than angels, are native Enochian speakers: dragons and Nephilim.”

  “The bit about the ‘Last Daughter’ means our family line won’t produce any more daughters... I think,” Mack said.

  “Well, I guess I’m probably the perfect person to be a mom of boys,” KC smiled. “Maybe that explains why blue is my favorite color.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about that too much,” Ebenezer sighed. “Mack isn’t a Llewellyn. He’s a MacDuff now. I would have to be the one to have children to carry on the family name, and I can’t. When I fought Beta, I didn’t come out of it unscarred. Frankly, I’m lucky that my, um, plumbing still works, but otherwise...” Ebenezer shrugged. “I am the last Welsh Llewellyn.”

  “Yeah, I’m pretty sure, though, this means my kids will be boys,” Mack insisted. “It relates to the ‘bearing of the Chosen Weapon’. ‘Bear’ here doesn’t mean ‘to carry in one’s hand.’ It means ‘to carry in one’s womb.’”

  “And werewolves are Living Weapon class therianthropes,” KC gasped.

  “I am the Chosen Weapon.”

  “Which is why I’ve spent years hiding and preparing for this day,” Ebenezer said. “We can’t let Avidan Baylor know he killed the wrong Tuath De, not until you’re ready to kill him.”

  Chapter Ten

  Chesapeake, Virginia

  Tuesday, May 7, 2019

  UNCLE EBENEZER’S SAFE house had only the one bed in the master bedroom, which he offered to Athena. She declined with the explanation that she would be more comfortable on the couch with Mack and KC watching over her. KC didn’t need to sleep at all, and Mack could normally go a day or two without sleeping, longer with quick power naps here and there. He had no interest in sleeping, though, with the ancient book now open before him.

  Around midnight, Uncle Ebenezer excused himself and went to bed. Athena was already asleep on the couch, leaning against Mack who was perusing each page of the ancient volume at a steady pace. KC busied herself cleaning up the kitchen for a time. Then, she settled into one of the chairs facing the big couch in the living area.

  “That’s adorable,” she said, pointing to Athena laying propped against Mack.

  “If you and I weren’t married...” Mack sighed with a glance at Athena before returning to his reading.

  “We could become Mormons.”

  “Modern Mormons aren’t polygamists anymore.”

  “Well, that’s disappointing. Reality TV has lied to me.”

  Athena snorted, sitting up half-awake. “What time is it?”

  “About two a.m.,” KC supplied.

  “It’s too bad you don’t sleep, Kayleigh. Mack is a good pillow,” Athena said with a smile followed by a huge yawn.

  “I may not sleep, but I do snuggle,” KC replied.

  “Is that another euphemism for ‘sex’?”

  “No, snuggling and cuddling are pretty much what it says on the tin,” Mack chuckled. “Did we wake you?”

  Athena shook her head. “No. Gotta pee.” With that she stumbled toward the nearer bedroom and its entrance to the en suite bath.

  KC looked pleadingly at Mack, eyes made large, lower lip stuck out and quivering. “Can we keep her? Please?”

  “She’s not a stray puppy.”

  “Is aggressive cuddling off the table then? I could claim one of my Freebie Five.”

  “The Freebie Five are celebrities that we’ll never actually meet. She’s a real person with her own personality, her own agency, and her own life. Besides, we kinda blew up her house. I don’t think downgrading to a bunk on a big blue skoolie would fit her lifestyle choices.”

  “You don’t know that, and I really like her,” KC sighed.

  “How would Billy feel if we showed up with Athena after telling him we can’t bring him on the road with us?”

  KC winced. “Good point. You know, we seriously need to think about either re-fitting Busster or finding some kind of alternative if we wanna start raising a family.”

  Mack snorted a laugh.

  “What?”

  “I just got a mental image of us towing some kind of RV trailer behind Busster so we could have enough room for our family and still be nomads.”

  KC giggled. “I can see it now. I’d be driving the Blue Runner towing another trailer, and Liam and Pilar would have a fifth wheel trailer by this point, and they’d be bringing up the rear. Gosh, we’d look like that caravan of refugees from that old movie, um, Independence Day.”

  “So, you’ve decided to name the new car ‘the Blue Runner’?”

  “Unless you can come up with something better,” KC challenged.

  Athena returned from the bathroom and curled up in the other chair, a big recliner. “What are you guys talking about?” she yawned.

  “About turning our single motor home into a caravan of towed trailers,” KC replied.

  “Is there a trailer for me?”

  “Do you want a trailer for you?” Mack asked with a teasing tone in his voice.

  “I’d rather stay in a trailer with the both of you.” Athena stretched languidly. She’d traded her pretty blue floral dress for a plain white smock-like night shirt, which was currently failing to hide Athena’s curves. “You’d be less likely to blow up your own house.”

  “I wouldn’t lay money on that,” KC snorted. “Mack likes to load his own ammo, so we’ve got enough explosives next to the bedroom to blow the bus in half.”

  “Sounds like you guys need a lawyer on staff. You know, to deal with collateral damage claims and... stuff.”

  “We’ve got a lawyer already,” Mack said.

  “Emma is more of a client than our lawyer,” KC corrected.

  “Yeah, I mean a full-time in-house counsel-type lawyer,” Athena insisted. She’d uncurled herself and sat up. “I mean, I’ll be needing a new job pretty soon anyway.”

  “Why do you say that?” KC asked. “You’re an innocent bystander in this whole mess so far.”

  Athena grunted in dissatisfaction as she now stood up and started pacing. “Yeah, I can spin it that way when I finally contact the police. I mean, I’ve got the cover story already established. I usually take a long weekend off every month when I’m in estrus; I have it in my contract. ‘I was off for the weekend camping with friends who’re also clients,’ is what I’ll say. ‘I only heard about what happened this morning.’ You and ‘John Williams’ will confirm becau
se the police don’t need to know about your stash of military grade ‘party favors’.”

  “What about the strike team?” Mack prompted. “Who would want you dead?”

  “I will say, ‘I have no idea, officer. I practice family law. I administer trusts and handle adoptions, that sort of thing.’ I can plead ignorance with a straight face, don’t you worry, but let’s face it: I really am just a family lawyer. My job is boring.”

  “It’s safe,” KC pointed out.

  “It is, but I don’t feel like I’m living up to my full potential, and I have to hide what I really am.”

  “Don’t we all?” Mack replied.

  “Yes, but not among ourselves. I mean, I don’t have any paranormal friends. Just business acquaintances and my ‘dates’.”

  “What about your cop friend, the one you fixed up with your old boyfriend?” KC prompted.

  “They have one another, and I love them, but... Oh, I don’t know. They don’t need me, and I hardly ever see them lately. Frankly, their lives are more boring and routine than mine.”

  “She wants adventure,” Mack told KC.

  “Exactly!” Athena agreed, whirling and pointing a finger at Mack. “That’s it exactly. We spent a lot of time getting to know one another this weekend. You’ve told me about your adventures, your business, how you’re planning on expanding it with your friends. I want in on that!”

  “You’re not exactly a hunter,” KC pointed out. “No offense.”

  “None taken, although Cupids do have extraordinary tracking abilities tied to our empathic powers. I’ve just never developed myself in that direction,” Athena replied as she resumed her seat next to Mack. “I’m not suggesting that I bring any kind of brawn to table, and I am more than willing to admit that you’ve both got the brains part covered pretty well, too. I’d like to think I’d be one of the other organs, not, like, the heart or the lungs, but one of the supportive ones like the kidneys or the spleen.”

 

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