In The Lap Of The Gods

by John B. Hendricks

  “Oh,” the woman moaned. “Help me.”

  He observed her closely. She had long black hair and high cheekbones with a glint of pearly white teeth in her mouth. She was well armored with heavy boots and armguards, just like his patron Athena would have dressed. Her eyes were positively magnetic. Visions of Helen flowed through his adrenaline-laced mind. He was a fool for damsels-in-distress.

  “Can you help me?” she groaned, her hands clutching the sword that protruded from her chest. She looked into his eyes. “I need a warrior.”

  He nodded and indicated to her to be quiet. He sheathed his sword and walked up behind her. With both hands, he grabbed the hilt of the sword and yanked it with all his might. The sword came free from the wall and slid back through the woman’s body. Paris touched the blade of the sword in wonder. It was clean and dry, just like it would have been when newly forged. The woman staggered. Paris dropped the sword and caught her in his arms.

  She smelled really good.

  She worked herself around until she was fact to face with him. Her breath smelled like the wonderful spices of Troy and Paris felt his knees buckle slightly.

  “I am Paris,” he said, his voice wavering into the lustful range.

  “Thank you, noble warrior,” she said. “I am Lilith.”

  “Lilith!” Paris let go of her and drew his sword.

  “You are my enemy,” he said slowly. “I have heard of your treachery. You seek to torment all the dead for an eternity.” He held his sword to her throat.

  “Good sir,” Lilith said, her voice not wavering. “I am not like that. I seek to bring harmony back to this world.” She looked at him intently. “Weren’t you condemned to guard the area known as the Fall of Lucifer?”

  Paris held his ground. “I was freed from my damnation by a fellowship from Earth. Humans not damned to this place forever” He spat viciously at Lilith’s feet.

  “Then you have not heard,” Lilith continued. “It was Lucifer who doomed you to your torment. It was Lucifer who decided to leave you there for eternity.” She reached up and stroked his cheek. “But it was I, Lilith, who had you freed.”

  Paris pressed the sword harder against her throat. “You lie.”

  “I tell you the truth, noble warrior,” Lilith said. “I have banished Lucifer from this netherworld. His evil ways are no longer acceptable. I, Lilith, am now Queen of Hell. I have broken the chains of bondage that have held many like you to an eternity of terror.” She touched his other cheek. “I made it possible for your fellowship to free you, Paris. I am your true savior.”

  Paris pulled his sword back. Her hypnotic eyes looked onto his and his resolve flinched. Lucifer had condemned him and he was determined to take his revenge. Were her companions wrong about Lilith’s intentions? Paris felt he could read women very well, after all, wasn’t it very true that Helen truly wanted him to kidnap her? He lowered his sword.

  “I must have my vengeance against Lucifer,” he told her. “Can you help me?”

  She rubbed her fingers on Paris’ manly chest.

  “I can,” she said. “Just trust me.”

  Chapter 88[88]

  Paris and Lilith walked down to the beach. She looked at the large black heads protruding from the sand and shook her head. Her Minion Guard had definitely not lived up to her level of expectations. When Paris wasn’t looking, she kicked sand into a few of their faces. When she reached Belphegor, however, she stopped and knelt down.

  “Is it you, Belphegor?” she asked.

  Belphegor looked at her through his tear-filled eyes. “No punish Belphegor,” he whimpered. “No hot spikes into my skull!” Lilith covered his mouth as Paris looked over at them.

  “Now, now,” she said kindly. “That was Lucifer’s torment, innocent demon.” She pressed her hand harder against Belphegor’s mouth as she felt him try to speak. “Lucifer was merciless to them,” she said to Paris. “Their minds are still addled from the agony.”

  Paris looked at the wide-eyed demon. “Where did the rest go, Belphegor?”

  Belphegor weighed his options. Buried to his neck in the sand for the foreseeable future, or turn on his traveling companions and hope for the best, at least for him. The wonder of situational ethics.

  “They continue on to find the pork rinds,” Belphegor said. “They still desire to stop Lucifer.”

  Lilith looked at Paris. “I agree,” she said. “Lucifer and his truly evil intentions for mankind must be stopped.” She massaged Paris’ neck. “Did your traveling companions give you any information on how they would go about getting these so-called pork rinds?”

  “Only that there was a portal nearby,” Paris said.

  “Ah,” Lilith said. “A portal. You don’t happen to know the entry word, do you handsome?”

  “Entry word?” Paris asked.

  “I know entry word,” Belphegor said. “But you must dig me from sand first.”

  Lilith fought the urge to kick Belphegor’s head to a bloody stump until he gave up the vital information. “Of course we’ll dig you up,” Lilith said, trying her best to quell the angry fumes she could feel rising from her. “After all, we’re all in this together.”

  Belphegor relaxed, but only for a moment. With Lilith, he thought the upper hand only last for few moments, then she figures out how to wrap it around your throat.

  They followed the demon to the road and Belphegor strode with exaggerated purpose, looking for the pile of limestone rocks. A smitten Paris and Lilith walked behind him as if they were on their first date, hand in hand, with Lilith cooing gooey nonsense in Paris’ ear.

  Belphegor kicked a rock off the road in disgust. Any side he ever took always screwed him over. Belphegor the toadie. Belphegor the doormat. Maybe it was time to make things better for Belphegor and let the chips fall where they may.

  By the time they had reached the limestone pile, he had a plan.

  Chapter 89[89]

  They had landed the scout ship near an incredibly wide river called the Mississippi. The crew spent a good hour throwing rocks as far as they could into it, challenging each other, laughing at each other’s ineptness and girly throws.

  Lane sat on a tree stump watching them. He had always seen the crew as interchangeable cogs in the war machine. He never knew that Crewman Silver was amateur masseur, and on Remusia was known among certain female circles as Mr. Magic Fingers. Theodore the Navigator had three kids and a wife that was a fashion designer. Technician Randy was a collector of Remusian detective fiction and Second Mate McDonald did impersonations. He was hesitant at first, but he did his version of Lane that was dead on right down to the timbre of his cursing. “If you dare fail to eat all of your vegetables,” McDonald mimicked, “I will expel your wretched carcasses in the blackest vacuum of space.” Lane laughed heartily, and the crew joined in.

  They had stripped off their uniform jackets, leaving them wearing only sleeveless shirts, uniform pants, and boots. From Lane’s observation of the video transmissions, he didn’t believe they would be out of place in Earth society. Maybe just a little hairier than the average guy.

  They made their way along a gravel road. Insects buzzed around the flowering plants and around their heads on occasion as they took their time walking. Lane kicked a few rocks with great pleasure, skidding them forward, and then trying to find the same rock to kick again. His crew was engaged in some sort of ribald conversation that moved from uproariously funny to introspective. “What do women really want?” was one question.

  “What another woman already has,” Lane responded. They roared with laughter.

  They reached a solid blacktop road. Lane looked both ways. A series of mechanical transports were rolling toward them. “They are actually touching the ground,” Randy said. “They don’t use gravitational levitators here. This planet is much more primitive than those transmissions led us to believe.”

  One of the vehicles slowed as it approached them. It had a small cabin that looked to be able to hold two individual
s, but the back part was constructed in a manner that suggested it was used to transport larger objects.”

  “Howdy fellas.” A tall, lithe blonde woman stuck her head out of a window in the cabin. “Where you heading?”

  Lane hadn’t considered their final destination yet. He was enjoying the freedom of not having to be anywhere at any certain time. “Can you take us to a nearby population center?” he asked her.

  “Sure!” she said. “I’m heading toward town anyway. You fellows just hop in the back.” Lane and the crew scrambled up into the transport portion of the vehicle and they slowly moved away.

  “Where you all from?” the woman shouted over the road noise.

  “We’ve traveled a great distance,” Lane shouted back. “This is our first time in this quadrant!”

  “Quadrant? You boys sure talk funny. College boys out on a country lark, I’ll bet.” She shifted gears. “Ever had a fried bologna sandwich?”

  “I don’t believe so,” MacDonald answered. “What is it?”

  “A sandwich, you goofs. You know, two pieces of bread slapped around a nice hunk of meat. Food? It’s like you boys are from another planet.

  “Food!” they shouted in unison.

  “I know just the place,” Synchronicity grinned, shifting into third.

  Chapter 90[90]

  Eve stumbled along the dusty, gravelly road, her bare feet scratched and bleeding. The sounds of shouting and cursing had faded in the distance and she breathed a sigh of partial relief. In a short period of time, she was able to put some distance between herself and Lilith, but she realized that could change very quickly. She squinted into the sun.

  She spotted the stack of limestone rocks, waves of heat bending the air above them. The cool verdant grass of the grove soothed her feet a bit and she was able to pick up the pace. Various odd-looking fruits dangled around her and she realized that she was very hungry. It shocked her, since the mechanical need for food had long been gone from her personal edition of Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs. In Heaven they ate all the time, but not because they need the fuel, but because of the pleasure involved. It was a perk for being good..

  Down here, though, Eve thought, nothing good could possibly come from her biting through the skin of one of these delicious-appearing fruits. Fool me once, she thought grimly, put her head down, and concentrated on putting one foot in front of another.

  She heard and smelled the brook before she reached it. Fond memories washed over her. This whole place reminded her of the Garden. Pleasant and inviting, but without the cacophonous birds and other noisy creatures that had often interrupted her reverie in Paradise.

  She put her foot cautiously in the water. It was remarkably cold for such a warm day. She splashed through and stepped up on the large flat rock that split the stream in two. She said the entry word. It hung in the air, whisper-thin like smoke.

  She jumped as a hole appeared in the air in front of her, swirling eddies of dust milling around it, dancing. The hole dilated slowly and Eve saw a grove not unlike the one she stood in. An asphalt highway was in the near distance and she could hear the traffic traveling on it. She spotted a bright yellow bus speeding by, children yelling and shrieking. Eve looked behind her. The grove was silent. She adjusted her crown, tucked the scepter behind her in the waistband of her pants, and stepped through.

  Chapter 91[91]

  “Well?” Lilith said impatiently.

  Belphegor stood on the flat rock in the middle of the stream. The plan was not going well. His original thought was to lose them in the woods, find the portal and go through to safety, but Lilith was like a ravenous lioness with a weapons lock on a fleeing gazelle. He had stumbled into the water totally winded, and she had glided up behind him and slapped him sharply across the head. She hadn’t even broken a sweat.

  The man, Paris, was still looking at him with a fixed angry stare. Belphegor could see the man’s hand flexing on the hilt of his sword, just waiting to use it to chop Belphegor into tiny demon bits. He swallowed nervously.

  “Speak the entry word,” Lilith said with building aggravation. “It is time for revenge.” She looked at Paris lovingly. He smiled tightly back at her.

  “You’re making me too nervous,” he told her. “It’s a tricky combination of syllables. You have to say it just right.”

  “It will be even trickier when Paris slices out your tongue, slimeball,” Lilith said. “Hurry.”

  Belphegor gulped. “No,” he said.

  “No?” Lilith said.

  “No,” Belphegor said again. He could hear the sword of Paris rasping out of its sheath.

  “Without me,” Belphegor said, summoning up what little courage he had in the depths of his being, “you can’t make it through.” He stopped, the sweat running into his eyes. “Me need reassurances first.”

  Lilith bit her tongue, grinding her molars into it to keep from letting loose a string of vitriol. “Whath do thu want?” she said clumsily.

  Paris swung around suddenly. “Quiet,” he whispered urgently. “I hear something coming.” He motioned for Lilith to stand behind him. Belphegor searched the thicket and then looked at Paris and Lilith. They stood frozen in place, quietly scanning the area. This would be his only chance.

  “Toora,” he whispered. The portal silently opened, and he started counting down in his head. Ten seconds, nine seconds…

  At three seconds, the portal started closing. “Lilith!” he shouted. Lilith and Paris looked at him in total shock. Belphegor turned his back to them and shook his hips derisively at them. “Kiss my hairy ass!” he snorted and dove through the portal a split-second before it closed.

  “No,” Lilith screamed. Paris clamped his hand over her mouth and dragged her away. He pushed her down behind a fallen tree and jumped on top of her. “Not now, you idiot,” she said with menace. “And besides, I always get on top.”

  He put his hand over her mouth again. “Two men approach,” he said. “Shut up.”

  She glowered at him, but felt a stab of lust poke at her. It was only his scabbard, but the thought still lingered. A man in charge? Maybe occasionally that wouldn’t be so bad.

  Paris peeked over the log. The first man was a massive hulk, from his giant cranium all the way down to his giant feet. The other man, with his stride and confidence, was clearly a warrior. Both had hard glints of steel in their eyes and dried blood hung on them in splotches. He whispered to Lilith their descriptions.

  “Poseidon and that moody Mongol who skewered me from behind,” Lilith whispered.

  Paris’ eyes widened. It was the god of the sea, earthquakes, horses, and enemy of Troy. He felt the urge to shower the Greek with a barrage of arrows just on general principles.

  “Listen for the entry word,” Lilith whispered.

  Paris focused on them. They were bantering loudly, talking about the fight in which they had just been involved. Mukali mentioned a few other things such as Eve, Oskar’s Tavern, and Middlemarch. The portal opened and the duo quickly stepped through. Paris jumped up, reached into his quiver, and fired an arrow at the vanishing hole. The portal eased shut, catching the shaft of the arrow in flight, the vanes hanging in the mid-air above the stream.

  Lilith and Paris waded into the flowing water. He grabbed the arrow and wiggled it. With a shove, he twisted the arrow up, forcing the portal to open slightly. He took a tree branch and jammed it against the lip of the portal, forcing it open. They had barely made it through the small opening when they heard the cracking sound of the branch breaking in two. The opening closed totally, now invisible in the warm air of the American Midwest.

  “Nice shot,” Lilith said.

  “Never had a lesson,” Paris beamed. He pointed to the billboard at the side of the road. “Oskar’s Tavern - Home of the Classic Fried Baloney Sandwich.”

  “Maybe after, you know, after we get our revenge and everything, you’d like to get a little bite to eat?” Paris asked.

  “I’d love to,” Lilith said.

>   Chapter 92[92]

  They were lost in a grove of fruit trees. Marvel was beside himself in consternation.

  They had worked their way up the beach until Marvel indicated it was time to make their way back through the woods. There was no way to tell whether they had made their move too early or too late. The grove was a huge expanse of very similar trees and it was impossible to get their bearings. Absalom thought they were just going in circles, but it was impossible to determine.

  Fat boy had tired out. He lay down in a bed of leaves. “Now I lay me down to sleep,” he said, yawning. “You know the rest.” Solly plopped down beside him. “I’m tired down to my aching bones as well,” he said.

  Marvel was consulting a notepad. “We’ll have to head back to the beach and work our way down to the bonfire.” He looked at them in disappointment. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ve failed you all and I’ve failed what I was born for.”

  “How’s that?” Absalom said.

  “I was born to a special purpose,” Marvel said. “My three brothers and I have been waiting for the right signs to appear, and our task has always been very clear. Help those who ask, with no questions.” He held up the notepad. “Here’s our destiny.” Absalom took it from him and read it aloud.

  “The Manifesto of the Severed Hand.” He looked at Marvel questioningly. “We four brothers are born not of woman, but of Jehovah’s anger. Shorn from our mother’s body, we arrived in this next life as kindred souls, identical in spiritual form and purpose. We know in the essence of our very being that such purpose will present itself and we will be aware that it is our time to do the task for which we were conceived into this world.”

  “Now that is some seriously heavy-duty destiny,” Fat Boy said, producing his detective’s notebook. “I have to work that into my upcoming high fantasy tale, ‘The Mystic Elves Hear a Who.” He started scrawling some notes.