The Wayward Godking

by Brendan Carroll

  Anu wiped some of the blood away with one of the bed sheets and then produced a knife to cut the cords on the hauberk.

  “I believe you would know the answer to that question, my daughter, if you but… searched your heart,” he answered indirectly her question as he helped her remove the outer armor exposing the blood-soaked shirt beneath. “You and Adar have produced a fine son. Very fine. I will be most pleased to call him ‘son’.”

  “I know Nicole has been trying to reconcile with her brother for years.” Meredith said quietly. She pulled up the shirt and examined the wound. It was clean, but ugly, definitely fatal. “He is afraid of her. But this is… I was not expecting a physical reconciliation. I didn’t know she meant to… join with him… I mean, that is what happened, is it not?”

  “It was something he should have dealt with long ago,” Anu told her and then sat back, allowing her room to work. “There was no need for him to be afraid of her. He loves her as much as he loves himself. He was simply trying to deny that which could not be denied. Now, they are one, and this will be better for both of them.”

  “I don’t understand why they were born separate, if they were meant to be… one,” Meredith said in aggravation. Her mind flitted back and forth between the here and now to the past, when other things totally implausible had happened. She knew Simon was actually two different, yet identical personalities in one body. She had seen Omar and Il Mio Dolce sharing one body. She knew that Abaddon had been a part of General Schweikert for years, and then there was Ramsay, the King of the Center; Ramsay, the Knight of Death; and the one she liked to think of as ‘the Dove’. The same and not the same and what about Nanna and John Paul? At the thought of John Paul, she jerked her mind back to the present. She needed to check on her eldest son. She finished wiping away most of the blood and then made Luke Andrew as comfortable as possible in the rumpled bed. She had totally rejected what Jasmine had told her in a panicked whisper in the corridor after the beast had been put to flight. If Anu and Lucio hadn’t shown up from out of the ether, the beast might have utterly destroyed them. Her mind revolted at the thought. “If they were meant to be together, then why were they twins? And what of Lucia and Marco? Is it the same with them? Can I expect this to happen to them as well?”

  “Marco and Lucia. Yes, I know your children from the mortal, Lucio Dambretti. Yes. I saw this in his mind,” Anu said thoughtfully. “They are Halflings. Half mortal. They would be at home in this world as differentiated beings. Your children from Lord Adar would not be Halflings. You should know these things. You must stop thinking like a human, Meredith. I shall have to take you into the depths of space and show you another perspective. You have been confined to these limited surroundings all your existence. In that regard, my grandson has done ill by himself. But I will explain it since Nanna has not seen fit to do so. They were conceived in the blackest depths of carnal passion and not just carnal passion of ordinary ilk,” Anu told her, definitely annoyed by her ignorance. “The conditions were wrong in every aspect. The stars were wrong. The planets were wrong. And the method… need I say more?” He raised both eyebrows at her, and she blanched at the thought of those horrible days when she thought Mark Andrew had lost his mind entirely.

  “No!” She snapped at him and her face burned. “But how do you know all of this?”

  “I’m God,” he smiled at her and her anger flared. He caught her wrist when she tried to slap him. Through her anger, he looked almost exactly like Mark Andrew, and he certainly sounded like the Scot. In fact, if she blurred her eyes just a bit and imagined that they were not in Nicole’s bed with her mortally wounded son, she might have felt very much at home with him. Already, she felt as if she’d known him for ages so much was he like his son or vice versa. “Or, at least, many think I am.” He added and then waited as she calmed down.

  “You are full of anger, Meredith. I’m surprised. The gentle nature of Nanna remains with him, I see,” Anu continued and released her arm. She turned away from him. “You remind me of someone. It is no wonder that my son saw so very much in you.”

  Meredith snapped her head around and glared at him.

  “What right do you have coming here and making light of our sorrows?” She asked. “My daughter is gone and my son lies dead. The world is destroyed and we linger on and on! To what purpose? Answer me that, O Great and Magnificent Lord! And you taunt me with memories of Mark Andrew when you know perfectly well that we can never… never be together. It’s not fair and it’s not funny and I’m not here for your amusement.”

  Anu crawled back to Luke’s side and ran his fingers through the streaked hair. He pulled the braid from its place on Luke’s head with ease and held it in his hand. Meredith gasped at the sight of it. Anu placed it against his own head and it remained there, just above his right ear.

  “You also fought with the Italian. Your nature is very volatile. Much like Semiramis, no doubt. You would have made an excellent warrior queen. Your face would satisfy the desolate and wasted ground moreso than water. I know many things, Meredith,” he smiled slightly at her. “I have been there for my son and my grandson and even you. You do not hold exclusive rights to love, my daughter, though you would rival Venus’ radiance. My daughters have become many and lovely they are, but you must remain the crowning glory. Surely you know that it was not your brain that attracted my son? Nanna knew exactly what his uncle would want when he put his plan in action. Did he never explain to you what it was all about?”

  “Of course, he did. You make it sound as if he used me,” Meredith was still highly perturbed. “John Paul wanted to save the world. He didn’t want the cataclysm to come. He said that it didn’t have to happen. That it was up to us, but we failed.”

  “You failed because it is written in the stars that now is the time for a new beginning,” Anu tossed his hair over his shoulder and his earrings jingled in unison with her own silver ones entwined in the braid. “Some things can be changed or prevented while others cannot. Nanna made a good attempt. An honorable effort. I am quite pleased with his motives though his methods are a bit questionable. I think he must be punished. As for your defense of him, it is only natural for a mother to defend her son. That is how you still think of him, Meredith, as your son. He is not your son. He is your alter self. Your masculine half. You persist in these human delusions. I’m going to take you into the depths of the ocean and show you wonders you never dreamed of.”

  “John Paul? Punished? Who could punish him? What has he done wrong?” she asked in alarm, ignoring his obvious romantic overture. “Who can condemn him?”

  “Condemn him? No. Punish, yes,” Anu said. “He is an errant child. You know that and you… what of your antics, Meredith? Are you not a part of him? Does he not reprimand you for your transgressions?”

  “I am responsible for my own actions, and John would never presume to redress me. He treats me with the greatest respect. Punish me, if you must,” she said defiantly. “Leave him alone.”

  “I have left him alone too long, it seems, and I will truly leave him alone when I go,” the Lord of the Moon stood up “for I will take you with me and he will appreciate more what he has done when he can no longer see you. If he has placed an attachment on you as you describe then it needs to be eradicated. It is unnatural and unhealthy. He has a mother! And so do you, though you never knew her.”

  Meredith’s mouth fell open in shock at his words. She would not go with him. She simply would not go with him. He held out his hand to her and she took it. She would not allow this creature to take her from her family. She could not allow it. She stepped up and out of the bed to stand beside him on the marble floor. If Mark Andrew were there, he would not let it happen, but this was his father. How could he oppose one as powerful as Anu? He wrapped one arm around her shoulders and kissed her lips. She would not kiss him! She would not go with him.

  “John!” she shouted when he let go of her. “John Paul! Lucio!!”

  “There is no need shouting
for help, my daughter,” Anu spoke into her ear. “You will like where we are going. I give you my word. If you do not wish to stay, you can come back here anytime you wish it.”

  When Luke Andrew opened his eyes a short time later, he was alone in Nicole’s destroyed bed. As he looked about in puzzlement at his surroundings, he realized that he was not truly alone after all. He was still marveling at the horrendous pain in his midsection and the enormous turmoil in his brain. The pain flowed through his brain in an alternating pattern with waves of the most profound joy and ecstasy. It was maddening and terrifying and intolerable and… he pressed one hand over the wound and turned feebly on his side. His long hair fell across his shoulder as he struggled to sit up in the lumpy, blood-covered bed, but the absence of the jingle of silver struck his consciousness like a physical blow.

  His wound was momentarily forgotten as he ran his hands frantically though his hair, searching for it. The thing had become part of him. Its absence was more profoundly shocking than the state of his mind or the terrible injury that had so recently killed him. His second shock registered as he gazed at the locks of hair in his hand. It was no longer straight, but wavy and interspersed with blonde streaks. With growing desperation, he dragged himself from the pit and across the floor to Nicole’s full-length dressing mirror. He grasped the bottom of it and tilted it down in its frame. The outline of his face was the same or most nearly the same, a bit softer around the jaw perhaps. The dimple was still in his chin as always. The hair was a striking change though not nearly as stunning as the change in his eyes. The blue had intensified and now resembled Mark Andrew’s color more than Luke Matthew. Nicole’s eyes. He had Nicole’s eye color and part of her hair, the curve of her jaw and the tiny indention that had creased the tip of her nose. The changes were quite apparent to him, though they might have been unnoticeable for the most part to anyone else. He let go of the mirror and lay on the marble, looking up at the vaulted ceiling, wondering where everyone had gone. Wondering if the creature had slaughtered them all. Wondering if anyone in the world cared whether he was alive or dead, but then someone had carried him here. Someone had taken off his hauberk and cleaned his wound. Someone had taken his braid from him and he no longer cared that no one cared for him. He had Nicole with him now and he wondered how that he had ever managed to survive without her.

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  “And you saw him there? You spoke to him?” Jasmine’s face glowed with joy and relief when Lucio answered her questions about Lemarik.

  It was obvious once more that Jasmine had no feelings whatsoever for Lucio. She’d never really known him except through a fog. It was her feelings for Luke Andrew that bothered the Italian somewhat. He’d witnessed a very touching scene between her and the temporarily deceased form of Mark Andrew’s son in the courtyard. She had been devastated by his death. Moreso than she should have been. Luke Andrew was probably wrong about her altogether, but there was no sense dwelling on it. She was better off with Lemarik. The mighty Djinni could take care of her where the rest of them could not.

  “Yes, he was with Sir Ramsay and the others on Easter Island,” he smiled at her slightly. She had lost none of her beauty through the years, but the sight of her brought back distinctively regrettable and painful memories.

  They were sitting in the ruined courtyard. The servants were working to restore order, clear up the broken glass and pottery, right the furniture. The wounded members of the household could be found in various rooms being tended by various other members of the household. Lucio had gone down to the beach to help the Tuathan healer with the disgruntled Semiramis. Afterwards, he had gathered enough nerve to visit John Paul’s quarters. He had found the prophet recovering nicely under his wife’s care and, sitting next to his bed, were Marco Niccolo and Lucia. The meeting had been very brief. Marco had been most happy to see him, but Lucia had been less than enthusiastic and again, his heart had been broken by her attitude.

  “Do you believe he is still there?” she asked and clasped his hands in hers without thinking.

  “I don’t know. I don’t think so,” he told her. “I believe we were all caught up by Nicole’s contact with Luke. At least that is the way it appeared. He is most likely in the forest.”

  “What forest?”

  “I found myself in a forest. There was a party or a gathering or something nearby. That is where Anu found me, and then he brought me here to help him.”

  “He should have brought Adalune,” she frowned and then smiled. “But he was well? There was nothing amiss?”

  “Nothing other than the fact that he is keeping company with Ernst Schweikert.”

  “Ahhhh, yes, the General! Of course,” she smiled again. “I had forgotten about him until just yesterday when the sergeant asked me about him. So that is what happened to him. A nasty character, that one.”

  “So they say,” Lucio told her off-handedly as his attention was taken by someone walking toward them through the clutter of over-turned potted plants.

  Jasmine saw who was approaching, and took her leave quickly, seemingly without his notice.

  Lucia walked toward her father slowly. Their eyes were locked. Her expression was completely bland, but her complexion was much better than he remembered when he’d last seen her alive. She looked the picture of health, though hardly happier.

  He stood when she drew near and she held out her hand to him. He took the hand, kissing it gently before sitting down. Their meeting here in this exotic poolside setting was similar to the palace in New Babylon, where they’d had their final conversation, Lucio could hardly believe it was more than a memory or a dream.

  “Father… Poppi,” she said and smiled and sat down next to him. “I came to thank you for coming to our aid. We sometimes think we are impervious to injury. We get big heads.”

  “Lucia…” Lucio began and his voice cracked. He had to stop and regain his composure. “I am going to say this once more. You mean more to me than anything on, above or below this world. Only Marco and Vanni come close to sharing the intensity of my love… a father’s love for his daughter. His only daughter. From the day I saw you in your mother’s room. The day you were born, I knew that you were my heart encased in another body. I don’t know how to put it into words. You were the sun and the moon come down together and blended into a magnificent rainbow for me. A promise that my life had not been lived in vain. When you turned your back on me, it was as if the universe ceased to exist for me. Your absence has been like no other void in the cosmos. A complete and utter darkness covered my heart, tugged at my soul and tempted me to plunge into it, but God would not have it so. And now here I sit next to you, and I know that God saved me just for this moment.”

  “You certainly have a way with words, Poppi,” she said quietly and looked away from him. “I am sorry that I hurt you. I never believed that I could. I always thought that your love for Sir Ramsay and the Order surpassed everything else. Including your love for your son and your daughter. Now you have a second son. I have seen him. He is you all over again.”

  “Vanni is a fine son, Lucia. Marco is a fine son, but a daughter is the most brilliant jewel in her father’s crown. The ancients have always said that it is the sons which make or break a kingdom. I say they are wrong. It is the daughters. They are what make or break the king. It is well known that a good queen is necessary… Nay, mandatory in order to mediate the aggressive tendencies of an unbridled male ego. It has always been so,” he said again and his voice failed him.

  “I know that you love me, Poppi,” she took his hands in her own. “Mother convinced me of that long ago. I am ashamed of myself. I am ashamed of how I treated you. How stupid I was not to listen to you. I think I always knew how you felt about me. How could I not know? And now you sit and beg me to believe you love me? I am truly ashamed. Forgive me.”

  Lucio could say nothing more. He simply took his daughter in his arms and held her wordlessly for a long, long time. When he could finally s
peak again, he let go of her.

  “Where is Meredith? I’d like to speak with her, if it is all right,” he asked, but did not let go of her hand.

  “She was with Luke Andrew,” Lucia stood up. “We should check on him. He is not as bad as I expected. It’s not his fault that is father is such a bastard.”

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  “That’s not really possible, is it?” the count asked in a hoarse whisper as they watched the strange antics of the dancers who jumped about frantically in front of their bamboo cage.

  “I’m afraid so,” Paolo let go of the bamboo crossbars of their primitive prison and slumped to the floor, causing the cage to swing back and forth on the rope that held it suspended from the limbs of a huge tree.

  The fire leapt higher and higher into the night sky as the islanders added more fuel, lurching and shouting and chanting in their strange language. They hooted and howled and shook menacing spears and knives, also made of bamboo, at their prisoners, causing the count to cringe back into the recesses of the lattice-work box. The drums kept up a steady rhythm, unabated, as the natives worked themselves into a state of frenzy. From where they hung, they could see their two, less fortunate, companions tied to trees on the far side of the fire. They wore macabre decorations of feathers and cowry shells in their hair and on their bodies. Their legs were bent at impossible angles and they were quite dead, having finally and thankfully, given up the ghost some hours before, after being pummeled to death by a gang of surprisingly vicious children flinging rocks at them, essentially stoning them to death.

  “But how could they have reverted so quickly?” Polunsky crawled carefully across the floor of the cage and sat down by the Pope.