The Wayward Godking

by Brendan Carroll

  Mark coughed and spit blood on the stone near Marduk’s right arm and then plopped down on the ledge in front of his face.

  “We can fight forever, sir.” Mark drew a deep breath and coughed again. “Or else you can call this off and apologize to your son.”

  “Apologize!!” Marduk roared at him and then lapsed into a fit of coughing. He caught his breath and asked more plaintively “For what?”

  “For allowing him to become what he has become without the guidance of a father,” Mark told him and smiled wickedly at him.

  “I will not!” Marduk shook his head. “He is not my son!”

  “Then why are we fighting?” Mark raised both eyebrows. “I thought this was about Nebo.”

  “This is about… about… everything!” Marduk shouted. “It’s about Semiramis and Meredith and your… incessant meddling!”

  “Ahhhh.” Mark nodded. “Pardon me. I thought you had finally come to your senses.” Mark stood up and leaned over slightly, extending a hand to his old enemy.

  Marduk clasped his hand and then reached for the white braid with the other. He grabbed the braid and yanked with all his remaining might. Mark Andrew let go a short yelp, and then fell head over heels into the pit. Marduk fell with him and the horrified shriek of Lily Ramsay followed them down as she and her sons rushed forward to the edge of the foul hole. Luke Matthew had to hold her back to keep her from flinging herself into the pit after them.

  The three were soon engulfed in a melee of on-lookers as the cavern filled to bursting with elves and Knights. When they finally decided that nothing could be done, they meandered back into the Queen’s chambers where she demanded to know what had happened. Il Dolce Mio sent his people back to the meadow and stayed behind with her as the rest of them filed out of the chamber, taking the weeping Lily with them.

  The elf king described the action for Nergal and Ereshkigal.

  “There! You see?” Nergal asked when the elf king finished telling them what had become of Mark Andrew and Marduk. “I knew it would take care of itself.” He brushed his hands together as if glad to be rid of a trifling problem.

  “But what of my father?” The King asked them.

  “I wouldn’t concern myself with it, little King.” Nergal smiled at the elf. “They can fight until time freezes as long as they do it somewhere else.”

  “My reunion is ruined.” Ereshkigal remained in the midst of her stone bed, bemoaning her losses.

  “My Queen,” Il Dolce Mio said as he climbed onto the bed and sat in front of her cross-legged. “It would be best if you would kindly return me and my people to our land. We have been here too long and I am afraid that my kingdom has suffered from our absence. We have work to do. The sheep and cattle will be straying and hungry. The flowers will not bloom and the bees will starve.”

  Ereshkigal’s shoulders slumped and then she smiled.

  “You are right,” she nodded her head slightly. “Let us go and have our feast. A little more time will not matter. You can join me in the pavilion in your father’s stead.”

  The Queen climbed from the bed and the little King took her hand in his.

  “I would be honored to represent him,” the King accepted her invitation gravely as they walked toward the fire pit where several of Simon’s sons still waited near the fiery walls enclosing their grandfather. Even Carlisle Corrigan was there, inspecting the anomalous walls of flame. “What of Master d’Brouchart? Will you not allow him to join us?”

  “Of course,” Ereshkigal said wearily and waved one hand at the pit as if bored and the flames disappeared. Edgard stumbled out of the ashes into Judas Dan’s arms. Izzy and Philip began to brush the ash from his clothes. The Queen turned on them before proceeding and narrowed her eyes. “I will not have Nebo making a fuss and causing more trouble. If he comes along quietly, I will allow him to remain for the feast. If he utters one obscene remark toward me or anyone else present and/or missing, I will cast him into a pit full of worms for all eternity.”

  Edgard started forward with his mouth open, ready to face the eternal worm pit, but was restrained by his grandsons, who began to babble to him all at once about the fight between Adar and Marduk and the disappearance of their father, Simon. Edgard was extremely disturbed to learn that Simon had gone off with Ereshkigal and not returned. He broke away from his noisy grandsons and hurried toward the meadow in search of the Queen. He would have his son back. Edgard tried to reassure his daughter-in-law and grandsons that he was going to demand Simon’s return.

  The reunion was in full swing when they reached the meadow. Games were in progress up and down the length of the greens, the children present and many of the elves were playing in the fantastical toys in the playground. More elves and some of the humans, including Plotius and his princess were fishing from the bridge over the pond. Further on, Louis, Apolonio, Christopher, Michael, Levi, Thaddeus and the Jinn’s colorful friend, Bombarik, were engaged in a lively game of cricket. Some of Il Dolce Mio’s people were trying their hands at croquet and knocking golf balls wildly down the driving range. Everywhere was laughter, shouts and shrieks of joy, as well as, the mellow sounds of an Irish love song as Paddy’s cousins played and sang on the bandstand for a sizable audience that surprisingly included several Boggans. The savory smells from the pit drifted on the wind, making Edgard’s mouth water in spite of his anger. When they emerged near the Queen’s pavilion, the rest of Simon’s sons and a few young ladies he did not recognize hurried toward them carrying colorful paper kites in their hands.

  “Did you find Poppi?” Benji asked as they joined him.

  “Not yet. Not yet.” Edgard stopped and searched the party for the Queen. He found her sitting with Il Dolce Mio, Lemarik, Omar, Dunya, Paddy Puffingtowne and General Schweikert, whom Konrad had only recently released from detention. They were engaged in a close conversation under the yellow and black canvas of the Queen’s pavilion. He led his entourage directly to her table and drew up short in front of her.

  The conversation stumbled to a halt and she sat staring at him in consternation.

  “Well, Nebo, what is it?” She asked. “Don’t forget what I told you. No trouble.”

  “I simply wish to know where my son is, madam,” he said steadily. “I am told you took him away and did not bring him back. May I inquire as to what you did with him?”

  “I did nothing with him,” she turned up her goblet and drained the last of her ale. “My father has charge of him.”

  “Your father?” Edgard’s mouth fell open. “You mean… your father?”

  “Yes, yes,” she waved one hand and then sighed. “Won’t you sit down, nephew? Why do you deny your heritage? What is wrong with being what we are, Nebo? Why not accept what you are and who you are? It would be so much easier.”

  Nebo sat down on a bench across the table from the Queen. Il Dolce Mio climbed onto the table and poured him a glass of ale and refilled the Queen’s tankard as well. His grandsons crowded the bench on either side of him in a babble of voices. Reuben She was convinced that ‘John’ was dead and that they were all insensitive and insane.

  “Am I to understand that your father was here?” Edgard asked as he turned up his drink, spilling it on himself and his clothes.

  “He was here while you were locked away, yes,” she told him.

  “Did you see him?” Edgard turned his attention on the Djinni.

  “Oh, yes, of course,” Lemarik nodded. “He comes and goes as he pleases, sir. As he always did and I must say he appears to be in fine form. Fine form.”

  “When did you see him?” Ereshkigal turned a suspicious eye on the Djinni.

  “I saw him in the corridor after Simeon and Reuben came running out in confusion,” he smiled at her. “I knew something was amiss. They would never leave their father in need and so I took a peek. I knew he was about somewhere. Alanna awoke him from his sleep and freed Anu from his prison.”

  “How do you know?” Edgard asked him in wonder.

 
“I was there,” the Djinni told him lightly. “We were on the island when she awoke him. She would have awakened the others as well, but Adar stopped her.”

  Edgard slapped his forehead with his palm.

  “He will bring back the Healer when he is finished with him,” Ereshkigal told them.

  “What did he want with him?” Simeon asked.

  “When Abaddon was dying,” Omar answered “he helped your father heal him. I believe he is greatly interested in the Healer’s powers. I watched from a distance as they performed the healing rite together. It is possible that Anu has some purpose for him along those lines. I felt no hostility from him, but rather great love for us.” He glanced at Dunya, who smiled at him. Anu had been less than receptive of Dunya, but Omar did not care what the Skyfather thought of his sister.

  Edgard reached for the dates and then froze when the sound of trumpets filled the air. A great fanfare covered all the noises of the party, even drowning out Lily Ramsay, who still lamented John’s loss and the games stopped as the revelers gathered in groups up and down the meadow, waiting to see what this new thing would be.

  Ereshkigal stood up and waved frantically to Nergal who was inspecting the meats with her captain. Plotius and Nergal came at once to stand beside her as a brilliant light appeared at the far end of the driving lane.

  “Did you plan this, my love?” Nergal whispered to her nervously. “Who comes now?”

  “I didn’t plan this,” she hissed and stood frowning as the light grew and drew nearer. Within its brilliance could be seen several shadows. The first identifiable forms were Ashmodel and Lucifer who emerged from the glare dressed in dazzling white robes, blowing long, golden trumpets.

  “Ahhhh, dear old papa,” Ereshkigal muttered.

  Everyone stood paralyzed in fear and/or fascination as Anu walked out of the light with Meredith on his right arm. She wore another of the white robes and behind her they recognized Simon of Grenoble. The Healer was no so divinely arrayed, but carried a short walking staff.

  “See, Nebo?” The Queen spoke up shortly. “Here is your son even now.”

  Lydia was up in an instant, running to meet her husband, but her flight was cut short by a deafening roar that seemed almost to flatten everything and everyone in the vicinity. Everything stopped again and everyone piled into the open as the hammering, buffeting noise of tremendous wings beating very rapidly washed over the gathering. A monstrous green and black dragon appeared above the tops of the distant trees, spouting orange, yellow and red flames and destruction as he came toward them.

  The elves and Boggans shrieked and howled in terror as the party disrupted in chaos.

  Ereshkigal rounded the table and headed directly for Anu, who stood with Meredith in the center of the green staring up at the beast. Before it swept over them, another dragon appeared from the same direction. The second dragon was every bit as large and terrifying as the first, but was dark red in color with a yellow underbelly. As the green dragon passed by them, those with strong enough hearts to look, could see that it had suffered terrible wounds all along one side of its body. The reason for its roars and panicked flight were obvious. The red dragon was gaining on it.

  “Father!” Ereshkigal accosted Anu as he stood watching the display with a smile on his face. “They are ruining my party! Would you please put a stop to this nonsense? Please?”

  Anu tore his attention from the dragons and looked at his daughter’s distraught face.

  “But this is grand entertainment for your feast, my daughter,” he said.

  “And you are as evil as ever!” she snarled at him. “It is no wonder that your children hate you.”

  “Now, there you go,” he said sadly. “Are children never happy with their lots?” He asked this question of Meredith. “All right, Reshki,” he told her, “go on back to your table, and I’ll speak to your brother.”

  Ereshkigal stomped away from them as elves, knights, men and women cowered behind tables, chairs, benches, trees, shrubbery and everything else that offered some form of protection.

  Anu raised his eyes to the red dragon and it faltered in its flight. It roared once in terror, flipped on its back, folded its wings and plummeted to the ground in the middle of the driving range without further ado. The beast crashed into the meadow with such force that many of the dishes on the banquet tables jumped off onto the frightened would-be diners hiding underneath. Anu sent Meredith on to the table with the Queen and walked down the meadow with Simon and his two angels in tow to where the dragon laid huffing and puffing futilely on its back, unable to get up.

  The Skyfather walked around the huge body, carefully avoiding the flailing tail and came back to the head. He leaned down carefully and looked into one of the large blue eyes.

  “Helloooo in there,” he said. “Hello?”

  The dragon’s eye rolled in its socket and a puff of thick, acrid smoke erupted from its nostrils. The beast tried again to roll on its side and kicked the air with all four feet. Its wings beat the grass on either side, but to no avail. Anu took hold of the white braided rope around the dragon’s neck and perused the silver clasp that held it together. The dragon fumed and roared futilely, sending the elves and Boggans in panicked flight under the trees as Anu pulled the silver clasp apart and removed the necklace.

  He held the braid to his lips and whispered something to it. A ripple of disbelief circled the throng of spectators when he fastened the white braid over his own left ear. The dragon roared in anger and frustration, letting go a long gout of flame from its nose.

  “There now, that’s much better,” Anu said when he felt the silver ornaments in his hand. His dark blue eyes crinkled into a smile as he bent near the dragon’s eye again. “Let’s see if we can get you out of there, son. I need to speak with you on matters of serious import.”

  Finished.

  Epilogue

  Where wast thou when I laid the foundations of the earth?

  The black and green dragon met with the same treatment when he returned to the meadow as that which befell the red beast. With both Marduk and Adar restored to their respective human visages, Anu would hear nothing of their grievances against each other. After a short, private conversation with his son, Adar, and an even shorter address to the assembly, bidding them to enjoy themselves until his return, the great Skyfather took hold of his grandson, Marduk, before he could begin to protest, and they disappeared into the depths of the forest.

  Mark Andrew was not satisfied with the outcome of his struggle with the nefarious Marduk. It was his considered opinion that the Lord of the Sixth Gate’s time was up and it was his duty to banish him forever from the realms of men and elves. After pacing the length and breadth of the meadow, cursing everything under the sun in Gaelic and a few other languages, he sat glumly isolated on the small bridge over Ereshkigal’s idyllic pond.

  The reactions of the people gathered in the Queen’s meadow varied from extremely joyful to frightful and tear-filled. The elves were, as usual, quite pleased that none had died, the food and drink was abundant and the opportunities for play had not diminished. They had taken up their games with the children even before Marduk and Anu had gotten out of sight.

  Mark Andrew, on the other hand, had shaken off his Brothers attempts to question him and warned them away. He’d cast one dark look at Meredith, another at Lily and walked directly to the little lake, wishing fervently he could throw himself in and be done with it all. No one had dared follow him… at first.

  Eventually, Simon satisfied his children and his father after a prolonged question and answer session. The Healer had never been put off by Mark’s moods, tempers or fits before the wheels had fallen off the Order’s proverbial wagon. Over the past several decades, he had been disturbed, angered and sometimes frightened when Mark Andrew’s true identity had been revealed little by little. While his old teachings still warred against what his practical experiences told him were not true, the turmoil in his mind was beginning to fade. The expe
rience with Abaddon in the dark corridors under the meadow, the close brush with the power of Anu and all the other things he had suffered over the years, made him think he was up to most any challenge, and a sulking Mark Ramsay hardly seemed a menace to him now.

  He strolled over to the bridge, making his way through the various activities, speaking with the revelers, clasping hands, hugging and kissing the people and elves he had come to think of as his family. When he drew near the bridge, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and whistled a little French lullaby. Mark Andrew did not look up when he walked onto the bridge. He took hold of the rail and slung himself down beside the disgruntled Knight of Death.

  “So, are you thinking of taking up fishing?” he asked when Mark did not acknowledge him.

  “I should think of taking up something other than a fishing pole, Brother,” Mark answered him glumly through gritted teeth.

  “And you of all people know there is no death and no rest for us,” Simon laughed softly and tossed a leaf into the calm surface of the pond. “Only endless cycles of transition.”

  “Endless,” Mark said and relaxed a little. “I have tried every approach, Simon. I’ve been father, brother, lover, husband… and even wife, and yet… no method seems to work. I have been teacher, preacher and murderer. Hundreds have tasted the raw edge of my sword, Simon, and to what purpose? Only to be reborn again to further misery and worse fates?”

  “Not all of them,” Simon said. He looked up at the false sky as a pair of meadow larks flew over head. A pair of swans glided across the dark surface of the water with three black cygnets paddling after them. “You forget your basic fairytales, Mark. Look at this beautiful bird,” he waved one hand at the swan. “Have you never heard the tale of the ugly duckling?”