The Ifrit leaped lightly to the ground and advanced on Konrad as the Knight was being beat back by Nergal’s superior strength. The Lord of the Fifth Gate was obviously toying with his inferior opponent, enjoying the close combat. The first he’d engaged in ages unknown.
Bombarik raised his sword, preparing to deliver a fatal blow to the Knight’s neck, but was knocked aside bodily by someone or something falling from the top of the tunnel. Mark barely caught sight of a flurry of purple and silver as Lemarik took the yellow Ifrit down, rolling with him on the hard ground under the hooves of the horses, causing several of the riders to be tossed from their saddles as their mounts tried to get away from the battling Djinn.
The rest of Marduk’s companions dismounted and joined in the fight. Soon the two Knights and the flummoxed clurichauns were engaged in a terrible struggle against an overwhelming force of swords and daggers.
The wall of yellow flame continued to impede the efforts of King Corrigan as he and his troops tried to get around or through the magickal barrier. The sound of shrieks and shouts and the neighing and snorting of frightened horses filled the air with a nightmare of terror. Paddy and Seamus, somewhat recovered, were helping Konrad fight off three of the dark soldiers of Marduk, while still defending himself against Nergal.
Marduk and the Knight of Death came together and separated again and again, almost equally matched. The dark Lord of the Sixth Gate managed to avoid every deadly blow of the golden blade as Mark Andrew divided his attention between him and four of his companions, dispatching two of them to the halls of dust and ashes and severely wounding a third. The ground around their feet was becoming slick with blood. Two more of them replaced their dead companions while another joined the fray against Konrad, driving him back into the rocky flowerbeds.
Lemarik and the Djinni were fighting in close combat with long daggers, again equally matched, and unable to do much harm to one another, but the Mighty Djinni’s physical attack kept him from using more of his magick against the elves.
Selwig stood back in the entrance of the tunnel watching the fight in horror. He had absolutely nothing on him with which he could help them. Furthermore, the healer had never received any training in combat and in all his long life; he had never been close to battle of any sort. He began to pick up rocks from beside the path, hurling them to some small effect at the darkly clad assailants.
Levi was beside himself as he watched these developments from within the tunnel. He dared not lay down the precious packages, and yet, he could not draw his sword and fight while holding the heavy bundles. This was not going to end well! He turned and ran through the tunnel in search of someplace safe to lay down his burdens before going back to help the two Knights. He spied a small waterfall in a rocky grotto in the next garden and waded into the water, intending to place the Emerald Tablets and the breastplate beneath the small waterfall while he went back. If he did not help them, these things surely would shortly be forfeit when the enemy overpowered him. He was about to shove the items under the overhang of rock when he felt a sharp pain in the back of his neck. He raised up slowly and turned around.
Jozsef Daniel stood on the edge of the pool near the waterfall holding the point of a silver broadsword very near his chin.
“I’ll take those, my friend.” Jozsef smiled at him and General Schweikert stepped into the water.
Levi tried to back away, but was pinned against the rock wall. Jozsef stretched a bit and pressed the point under his chin bringing blood.
“Don’t do anything stupid, priest!” Jozsef told him as the General relieved him of his packages. “Now come up out of there… very slowly.”
Levi sidestepped carefully to the side of the pool with the point of the blade still in place.
Schweikert handed the valise and the gold and white bundle over to Jozsef. The General twisted one of Levi’s arms behind him and pressed a dagger against his throat, shoving him up and out of the water in front of him, while Jozsef crammed the bundle inside the valise with the stone tablets.
“Now let us see what all the noise is about, shall we?” Jozsef smiled at the priest and jerked his head toward the tunnel.
Selwig was still busily throwing stones at the enemy when Jozsef clamped one hand over his mouth and picked him up bodily, shoving him in front of him as a shield. They stepped out of the tunnel into the brightly lit rock garden. Jozsef and Abaddon surveyed the confusion.
The combatants gradually noticed this new presence and the fighting slowly ceased as they perceived the danger into which they had fallen. Jozsef watched them with an amused look on his face.
“Namru, my old friend! Nergal! Adar! My, my. What a surprise! All my friends are here,” Jozsef addressed them individually, while holding onto the struggling Tuathan.
Marduk and Nergal backed away from the Ancient One in terror. They had not expected this.
Mark and Konrad stood holding their swords limply in their hands as Seamus and Paddy scrabbled up the rocks and disappeared into the gardens beyond the flames. The fire subsided abruptly and a murmur of shocked surprise rippled through the Tuathans. Corrigan shouted his troops back before they charged into the scorched rock garden. The colorfully attired soldiers fell back behind their King as he nudged his horse forward to get a better look at Jozsef Daniel.
“What is this, Ramsay?!” Corrigan’s voice drifted through the silence. “Another old friend? Another of your bastards?!”
Jozsef raised up slightly and looked for the source of the insult.
“Won’t you come out and face me, you cowardly little bird. See if your feathers and beads will stand against me!” he shouted.
Corrigan slid from his horse and walked slowly through the hooded warriors now crowding behind their own master, seeking protection from Lord Marduk.
“Who are you?” The King demanded.
“I am the god of your father.” Jozsef told him. “Tell me, little King, what color is Tuathan blood?” He pulled Selwig’s hair, exposing his throat to the blade of his dagger. “Shall we find out?”
Corrigan narrowed his eyes and then looked at Mark Andrew in puzzlement. He knew this one to be Ramsay’s grandson, Jozsef Daniel. The golden hand flashed in the moonlight. He realized his mistake too late. Carlisle swallowed hard and fell back quickly with Jozsef’s laughter stinging his pride.
“I’ll take a couple of those horses, Namru.” Jozsef nodded to the black horses standing in a knot in the midst of a ruined flowerbed.
Al Sajek jerked his head and one of his soldiers hurried forward with two of the horses, handing over the reins to Jozsef.
“Let them pass,” Mark Andrew told everyone in general. He locked eyes with Levi. The priest was sending him a volume of panicked information in the form of flashing mental snapshots. He saw the pool, the valise, the bundle handed over to Schweikert, and then heard a desperate plea to him to recover the precious package and save the little Tuathan at all costs, but Mark ignored his self-sacrificing offer and commanded the unlikely gathering of opposing forces as if he were their Lord and Master.
Not surprisingly, they easily followed his instructions. The Tuathans and others members of the recent brawl split apart, allowing Jozsef to walk slowly along the path, dragging the healer with him, followed closely by Abaddon and Levi. When they reached the far side of the Tuathans, Jozsef hooked the straps of the bag over the saddle horn and climbed onto the horse leaving Selwig standing on the ground. He drew his sword and pressed it once more to Levi’s throat while Abaddon climbed into the saddle of the second horse. A hundred eyes watched them in silence. When his companion was mounted, he kicked at the healer, sending him sprawling into one of the flower beds.
Levi tried to catch the Tuathan. Jozsef kicked his horse forward and raised up in the saddle, searching for Mark Andrew.
“Adar!” Jozsef shouted across the tops of the plumes and trappings adorning the Tuathans' headgear. “Perhaps you should give these little ones some history lessons! I am truly disappoi
nted with their ignorance! Tell them who I am! The next time we meet, I expect more humility from them!”
The Ancient Evil reined the horse around and rode down on the priest who had reached the unconscious healer. Levi dropped Selwig and spun to face his attacker. Jozsef lowered the blade and drew it neatly across Levi’s throat as he rode past him, shouting for Abaddon to follow. The priest dropped on one knee as blood poured from the wound. A tremendous hue and cry went up, part of the rock wall exploded outward, showering them with concrete and rock debris. Jozsef and Schweikert kicked their horses viciously, riding away swiftly under the trees.
While the faeries crowded in to aid Mark and Konrad with the priest and the downed healer, Marduk looked about, taking stock of his own position. He was still shocked at what had occurred. The sight of the Ancient One had shaken him badly. Confronting Adar had been a bold move, but he’d had confidence that he and his companions could easily take what they wanted. Little had he expected the Ancient One to arrive on the scene. Nergal closed the space between them and took his arm. Bombarik backed away from Lemarik with his sword held out in front of him.
“We must leave this place!” Nergal hissed at him and then shouted for their horses. The two Lords of the Abyss started off, but were yanked back by a powerful force and their heads were banged together painfully before they were both dropped on the ground. They floundered about momentarily and then helped each other up before turning to see what new menace had come.
They both stood staring at the hulking figure of Nanna squatting on the ground in front of them. The great creature tilted his head to one side and eyed them from under his prominent brow momentarily before baring his sharp teeth at them, uttering a menacing growl.
“You will stay,” he told them in no uncertain terms. “It is time to work together toward the greater good.”
“Greater good?! Greater good?! I have never been interested in the Greater Good, Lord Nanna!” Marduk raised his chin defiantly. “This ancient terror will destroy us all. You have slept too long!”
“That remains to be seen,” the Lord of the First Gate raised up to his full height, towering over them. “Do not provoke me!” The powerful entity struck the concrete walkway with his fist and a spiderweb of cracks appeared beneath it.
“What would you suggest, Lord Nanna?” Nergal spread his hands before him and smiled congenially at the beastly creature.
“I would suggest we tend to the wounded first!” Nanna growled lumbered forward on his muscular haunches.
Nergal elbowed his companion viciously and fell in behind the son of Anu. “We are no match for him in this form, my brother,” Nergal whispered to Marduk. “He has not polluted himself with the human form. He will rip us to shreds and the wrath of Shammash will compare as nothing with what he may do to us.”
“Shut up, you idiot!” Marduk jerked away from him. “I don’t need your pitiful counsel to know when I’m beat. There will be hell to pay now. Let us see how our dear Lord Adar handles this little problem.”
The two disgruntled Lords of the Abyss followed after Nanna's remarkably agile hulk as he made his way toward the shouts and melee of confusion in the rock garden.
(((((((((((((
Omar bellowed in frustrated rage when he saw the priest fall. He picked up the bronze bowl and ran to the edge of the roof, flinging the water and the scrying dish over the edge to the grounds below. The guards stationed on the roof of the portico stopped their paces to look up at their ruler in fear. He was doing it again! They started, stopped and then started again, unslinging their weapons, looking for an enemy that was not there.
The Prophet had been watching the events unfold in America in his dish for over an hour, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. He had been amazed to see the Tuathans and the clurichauns. He had been shocked to see the dark riders and Nergal and Marduk. But when Jozsef Daniel and the one called Abaddon, who had taken his general from him, had shown up, his shock and surprise had turned to rage… blinding rage!
What was his grandfather doing? And his father?! He had witnessed his father attacking the yellow Ifrit! He had watched helplessly as the Ancient Terror had thrown the innocent healer into the rocks like so much refuse, but the sight of the blood pouring from Levi d’Ornan’s throat as Mark Andrew and Konrad tried to stop it with their bare hands had been more than he could stand. Why had they not called on him for help? Surely a battle of such proportions would have warranted at least a phone call to New Babylon!
He tore down the stairs to the second floor and ran down the hall to his quarters. He burst through the doors and looked about wildly, shouting for his wife. She was not in the drawing room.
He threw open the doors to her bedroom and saw her lying across the bed. Only a thin veil of yellow and black silk covered her naked form. She raised her head and looked at him blearily.
“Ruth!!” He fell on his knees beside the bed and clasped her hand in his. “You must help me!”
“Help you?” She blinked at him and pushed herself up. She looked about in confusion and then pulled the sheet from the bed around her. “What is wrong, bambino?”
“I saw it! It was terrible! They cut his throat and left him… to die!”
Ruth slid down to the floor beside him and he buried his face against her silky neck.
“Who?!” she asked in alarm. She felt very guilty now. She had been dreaming about Lucio. “Whose neck? Who cut who?!” She turned and took his face between her hands. “Lucio? Did someone hurt Lucio again?!” she asked and then felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment.
“Not Lucio! Levi! Jozsef Daniel! And Schweikert! They…” Omar stopped and looked at her face.
“Where?” she asked him.
“America.” His panic and anger fell into a pit in his stomach… a cold, dark pit and a new emotion gripped him. He pushed away from her and stood up slowly, looking about the room with a peculiar look on his face, his eyebrows knit in confusion.
“Why?” Ruth stood up and pressed one hand against her burning face.
“Who has been here, Ruth?” he asked her very quietly and walked across the room to the door of her private bath. He pushed the door open slowly and looked inside.
“No one has been here,” she said.
He turned about and opened the door to her closet and dressing room. She watched in fascination as he turned on the light and poked about in her clothes.
“No one is here, Omar,” she reiterated and began to feel panic rising in her throat for no reason. “I’m fine! Really. There is no one here to hurt us. I’m fine.”
“Are you?” He stepped out of the closet and stood looking at her, blinking slowly. His face was very pale.
“Si`! I have been sleeping.” She sat down on the edge of the bed. “There is no cause for alarm. You say it happened in America? That is very far away. We are safe here.”
“I’m not so sure.” He dropped to one knee and looked under the bed.
“You are being silly.” She laughed nervously and pulled the sheet up to her neck self-consciously. This was the first time he had been in her room since they had returned to New Babylon and certainly, she did not usually sleep without a gown. Her eyes fell on the clothes she had been wearing earlier. They were strewn haphazardly on the rug. Another thing she did not normally do.
Omar crawled across the carpet on his knees and then ran his hands over the bed, frowning at the expensive covers as if they confounded him.
“Ruth!” He looked up at her. “You have found someone else? Someone here… in my own palace? Under my own roof? Someone has been here in your bed… with you.”
“What are you talking about?!” She stood up and he stood up as well, staring at her from across the bed.
“I am talking about…” He stopped again as someone pounded on the drawing room door.
He left his wife scurrying about the room, gathering her clothing from the floor. Two palace guards, the chief of police and two men in the dark uni
forms of the Fox stood outside in the corridor.
“Your Grace.” The chief of police nodded his head to him briefly.
“What? What do you want? Do you know what time it is? What has happened? Is there news from America?”
“I know what time it is, Your Grace. I don’t know anything about America.” The chief licked his thick lips nervously. “I am sorry to disturb you, but you are needed at headquarters.”
“Headquarters?!” Omar frowned at the man and glanced back at his wife's bedroom door. “What is the problem?”
“Your Grace.” One of the Fox officers, a colonel he did not recognize, pulled an automatic pistol from his shoulder holster and pointed it at him. “It would be wise for you to come without trouble. We do not wish to alarm your wife.”
“Alarm my wife? Are you arresting me?” Omar could not believe this. “What are the charges?”
“We are not arresting you, sir. We merely wish to ask you some questions.” The other man, also a colonel he did not recognize told him quietly. “Please come with us peacefully and there will be no trouble.”
“No trouble,” Omar repeated as he stepped past them in the hall and shouted for his palace guards, wondering how these men had gotten into the palace without his knowledge. No one answered his calls. The two guards in attendance quickly positioned themselves on either side of him and took his arms as the colonel pressed the pistol against his back.
“No trouble,” the man repeated as they escorted him forcefully down the hall.
“Why are you doing this?” he asked them again. “What has happened?”
“Your son, Bari.” The chief of police spoke as they hurried him down the stairs. “Or should I say, the Prophet’s son, Bari, has filed charges on you. The truth is out, Mr. St. John. There is no need to further the pretense.”
Thoth, the Atlantean Page 34