The Perfect Sun

by Brendan Carroll

  “Yes, I am.” Christopher licked his lips. Being in the company of the infamous General was not a good deal.

  “And yet, you consort with the enemy?” The elf looked very dangerous. His eyes blazed with anger.

  “He is not who he appears to be, sir,” Christopher answered him. “If you would take us to see Armand de Bleu, perhaps we can explain ourselves.”

  “And who is the shining one?” The elf leaned forward slightly, lowered his voice and shifted his gaze to Lucifer.

  “I need no explanation,” Lucifer told the elf and held out his hands to show he held no weapon. “Greetings, wonderful people! Lo, I bring glad tidings of great joy! A babe is born to you as a savior, and you will find him lying in a mange…. Lying in his mother’s arms,” Lucifer amended his announcement slightly. “And he will be a sign and a testament unto you and a covenant between thy people and the Father.”

  “The Father?” The elf’s eyes widened and the warriors murmured softly to one another. “Hush, little ones!” The captain admonished his soldiers and turned to Christopher again. “I will take you to the castle of Armand de Bleu, but you will turn over your weapons at this time.”

  Christopher complied and the others followed suit. The elves were serious and there was no time to quibble.

  Lucifer walked along beside the Captain, plying him with questions, but receiving no answers. The elves were much too suspicious of anyone in the company of the evil General who had killed many elves with his hordes of Black Death to readily trust them or even show their usual congenial manners. If Christopher Stewart had not been known to them, they would have killed Schweikert in the forest and thrown his body into the crevices atop the cliff.

  When they entered the plain in front of Armand’s castle, their presence set off an uproar. Ashmodel came from Leviathan, ready to defend the great creature against these unexpected intruders. Michael recognized Christopher Stewart and Lucifer immediately. He ran full tilt through the flowers with Ashmodel shouting warnings behind him, leaving his mother staring after him in alarm. A troop of elves came out from the castle to meet with the captain of the patrol. Armand rode out on his white stallion, his long, golden curls and braids flying behind him in the light breeze, flanked by his three sons and several more of his personal attendants. Nicole ran toward him as he seemed about to attack without warning afraid for Michael’s sake. Ernst saw that he was in danger and tried to break away from the elves, but they were upon him in an instant, taking him down in the grass.

  Michael slid to a stop in front of Lucifer and knelt before him, bowing his head.

  “Master!” He said after a moment and looked up at the angel.

  Lucifer seemed to have a bit of trouble recognizing him at first and then smiled, completely ignoring the reunion of Christopher and Armand who were very old and dear friends, Ernst’s precarious predicament and the shouting Elven warriors as they chased after the terrified Sergeant Runnels.

  “Michael,” Lucifer said his name softly and touched his head with one hand. “Get up, my son. I am no longer your master. Lo, I bring glad tidings of great joy!”

  Nicole made it through the melee and grabbed Michael’s arm.

  “Oh, no you don’t, Lucifer!” She snarled at the angel. “You will not be taking my son from me again. I will not permit it.”

  Lucifer frowned at her momentarily and then held out both arms to the sky. A tremendous blast of cold wind swept across the open plain, rolling the surprised elves through the grass like tumble weeds. Armand’s horse broke toward the castle and the Elven ponies stampeded away behind him, leaving the riders floundering in the gale force wind. Only the larger people were able to stand against the onslaught. Ashmodel strode forward with his sword raised over his head and a terrible scowl on his face. The cries of the elves were lost in the howling storm assaulting the plain from clear blue skies. Schweikert stumbled to his feet and caught up the downed Sergeant. They stood holding each other up, back to back.

  “What is your business here, Light-Bringer!!” Ashmodel’s voice almost split their eardrums. “Why do you bring wrath and ruin upon these little ones?”

  “I bring nothing but glad tidings, Brother,” Lucifer answered him and lowered his arms. “A child is born to us, and he will be a sign and a covenant between these little ones and the Father who art in Heaven! Hallowed be His Name! All Glory and Praise to Almighty God! May these and all the Heavenly Hosts worship His Glorious Throne!”

  “Lucifer!” Ashmodel poked the angel in the midsection with the tip of his sword. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m trying to tell you, my brother. Are you deaf or daft or deluded? Do you no longer know how to hearken properly to official heralds?” Lucifer frowned and lowered his arms. The wind died immediately and the standing people fell on their faces as the pressure of the wind disappeared. Groans and moans emanated from elves and men throughout the plain as they struggled to regain their feet and their dignities. “A child… a savior has been born. What is there to understand? Is it not plain to you? We must find him and worship him as in the days of old. We must bring him frankincense and myrrh and not the kind which comes from Norway pines! No, no! We must bring the finest frankincense from Araby. We must bring gold from the land of Nod and cedar from Lebanon to make a house for him. We must sing his praises on high and announce his birth to all that they may know the time is come for the change.”

  “What change?” Nicole frowned at him. She was not good at Holy stuff.

  “The end of the world as we know it,” Lucifer said blithely as Michael helped her from the grass. “The heavens and the earth shall pass away. And a new heaven and a new earth shall be made manifest. The stars shall fall from their places and the twelve and the seven shall rule no more. Mankind and Elfkind will live together in peace and prosperity, and the King shall rule them with love.”

  “That sounds wonderful.” Michael nodded his head in encouragement and shrugged apologetically at Armand. “Ashmodel, sir, please,” he caught the angel’s arm “put away your sword. These people come in peace.”

  “What of that one?” Armand nodded toward Ernst who was again surrounded again by the Elven warriors.

  “He is not the General we knew. He is simply Ernst Schweikert now,” Christopher told them. “The Scorpion Lord has left him.”

  “Aha!” Ashmodel’s face lit up. “That is a truth, for certain, for I have seen the Scorpion Lord, who would be called Abaddon by some and Apollyon by others. The angel of the bottomless pit. Uriel has set him free, and even now, he searches the Abyss for the queen of destruction.” Ashmodel’s voice took on the proportions of an evangelical preacher from a mid-twentieth century brush arbor revival.

  “What are you talking about, sir?” Christopher’s eyes widened. “Who all is here? Is Sir Ramsay here? Is the Master here?”

  “We must see Adalune,” Armand spoke up. “Perhaps John Paul will know what we should do.”

  “Where is this baby, Lucifer?” Nicole fell in beside the angel as they walked toward the castle. “Where is the savior?”

  “He was in the manger,” Lucifer told her thoughtfully “but he is no longer in the manger. He is in a dark place, but warm. His father will protect him.”

  “His father….” She frowned. “Who is his father?”

  “The Dove.”

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  “Sophia,” Luke Andrew said as he sat down next to her bed.

  She no longer needed or wanted to be confined to the big bed, but in the day and age in which they found themselves, she had no choice but to comply with Lady Ramsay’s orders. She had to keep reminding herself that the woman or whatever she was could have consigned her back to the barn, but it was maddening to sit and wait, hour after hour, while the various members of the Ramsay clan came and went, bringing her bits and pieces of almost completely useless information. It seemed that none of them knew anything. At least she had been allowed to keep Michael Emmanuel with her in the
big bed, and Lily provided everything she needed for the care of the baby whom she considered her grandson. Mark Andrew, himself, had only been in to see her once, and she was not quite sure who was who anymore; furthermore, Lily made her extremely nervous. She yanked on the ruffled sleeves of her gown and stared at Luke disdainfully.

  “Sophia,” he began again and poured himself a glass of water from her bedside pitcher. “You know me. I have nothing to hide from you. You must remember how I tried to get your attention in Germany,” he put on his best smile. “Why would I lie to you?”

  “Why would anyone lie to me?” She asked and then looked up at the ceiling, close to tears. “I want to know what is going on. I want to know what Sir Ramsay is going to do about this mess we are in. This is his doing! Doesn’t he care anything for his grandson?”

  “Of course, he does,” Luke said, but could not meet her eyes. He wanted to tell her that Mark was not who she thought he was and that his father did not care much for babies or children in general, for that matter. Her Mark would be the only one who would sympathize with her and King Ramsay rarely allowed the so-called “Dove” to make an appearance in her room without coercion from Urim and Thummin or Luke Andrew or Luke Matthew. Mark Andrew wanted only to keep Marduk, Nergal and ‘John’ Ramsay in his sight at all times. “He’s busy, that’s all. He’s working very hard to get this straightened out.”

  “How can he straighten it out, Luke?” She asked him and accepted a glass of room temperature water from him. No ice in the Seventh Gate! “I cannot believe what I am hearing from all of you. How could he do such a thing? Tampering with souls? Who does he think he is, Luke?”

  “He is the Lord of the Seventh Gate, Prince of the Grave,” Luke told her sadly. “Chevalier du Morte… formerly known as Adar, the Mighty Hunter, Ninnib, Lord of Saturn, Uriel, Angel of God.”

  Sophia fell quiet for a moment. She was always forgetting that.

  “Well, he’s not God, Luke,” she said after a moment. “He should have never brought her here. It’s unnatural.”

  “Yes, that’s not quite right. It’s supernatural.”

  Luke smiled and Sophia glared at him.

  “Look, Sophia, I’m really sorry about my father’s shortcomings.” He shifted in his chair. “I am also a product of his folly. You are who you are because of him. I am who I am. I can’t say whether we should curse him or worship him.”

  “Well, where is Mark? My Mark. Why doesn’t he at least come and sit with me?” She asked.

  “I suppose he is trying to help my father and Uncle Luke.”

  “Luke Matthew is your brother,” she reminded him unnecessarily.

  “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Luke stood up, wondering why he had come here. He’d felt guilty about her predicament.

  “No, wait!” Sophia finally managed a smile for him, and then picked up the baby, who was beginning to make noises again. “Please, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t blame you for your father’s shortcomings.”

  “No, you shouldn’t,” he told her shortly. “I have enough of my own. Is there anything I can get for you? More water? Some pie or something?”

  “No, please, just sit with me. I’m afraid. I could get up and go downstairs, but Mrs. Ramsay won’t hear of it.”

  Again, Luke wanted to tell her about Mark’s problem before she learned that Mark was who Lily referred to as her husband John. It was not going to be pretty. She should know what was going on. She deserved to know.

  “Sophia.” He tried one more time and sat down on the side of the bed and took her hands. “There is something you should know.”

  “Wait,” she pulled her hands from his and picked up the baby who was now beginning to cry quite loudly. “All right. What?”

  “Mark is…” his efforts were stopped short when Marduk Kurios burst into the room.

  “Up! Up!” The Lord of the Sixth Gate rushed around the bed, grabbing up the sheets in sheer panic, causing the baby undue jostling, which caused more undue wails.

  “What on earth are you doing?” Sophia shrieked at the frantic man. His turban was gone. His hair was disheveled, and he looked as if he had seen the army of darkness.

  “We have to leave here at once,” he told them and then pulled one of the pillow cases from the pillow. He began to jam the baby’s things in the bag. “Nergal has disappeared and so has Zaguri. That is a very bad sign! Very bad. If Lord Adar will not listen to me, I am forced to take the child and flee.”

  “You can’t mean to take the child, sir!” Luke stood looking at him in dismay. “The baby belongs with his mother.”

  “His mother is about to become fodder for the powers, if she does not get up and come with me at once.” Marduk ignored their protests.

  “Mr. Kurios!” Lily Ramsay stood in the door with her hands on her hips. “What are doing? Where do you think you are going with my grandson?”

  “To a safe place and, if you have any sense, woman, you will help me with this.” He threw a blanket at her.

  “Of all the insolence!” Lily grabbed at the blanket, and then shouted back into the hall for John, Mark and Luke Matthew.

  “Call all you like, Madam,” Marduk said as he rushed back around the bed and threw back the cover, exposing Sophia’s legs. “Up you go, little mother.” He said and almost picked her up completely. She was appalled, but allowed him to help her up. He picked up the baby and thrust him in her arms.

  “Hold on, sir,” Luke protested again, but did not try to stop him. He knew better. Marduk could flatten him with a glance.

  “Stay where you are, lassie!” Lily backed into the hall and shouted for her husband and sons again. “John Paul, where is your papa?”

  “I don’t know,” Luke Andrew answered her. “Where is mother?”

  “She was with your father the last time I saw her.” Lily began to look truly worried. “Sean! Mary!”

  “They cannot hear you,” Marduk told her as he pushed Sophia toward the door. “They are gone. This place is vanishing.”

  “Vanishing?” Lily frowned. “John Paul, what is this man talking about?”

  “I’m not sure,” Luke said as panic began to creep into his own mind. Marduk would not be in such a state for no reason. He took his grandmother’s arm and guided her from the room. “Perhaps we should go along with him. We could be in danger.”

  “Now that is more sensible,” Marduk growled as he herded Sophia down the hall in her bare feet. “If I am correct, we may have very little time.”

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  The stone walls disappeared and a warm wind filled with the fragrance of lotus blossoms, brushed his skin and caused his hair to tickle his face. The soft sound of cymbals and lutes soothed his mind, filling him with a euphoria beyond human description and he opened his eyes.

  A priest was behind him, speaking in a rhythmic cadence the ancient words of enlightenment for mankind and praise for the Great Father, Osiris and the Holy Mother, Isis.

  The pyramid vanished, but the blue flame remained in front of him as if the fire pit were still there.

  “Look ye now to the light and find yourself one with the spirit of the earth.”

  Lucio looked down and saw not his body nor his arms nor his legs, but rather a great coiling rainbow of colors, transparent, effervescent, evanescent and ephemeral.

  “Fear no thoughts of evil here, for nothing exists within or without that may harm you.”

  The coils began to unwind, passing through him it seemed and he realized that he was looking through the earth, which had become transparent. He saw a great fiery furnace, a sphere of seething plasma, shining forth in the blackness of eternal space.

  “You have seen the Sun at Midnight. You have transcended the earthly bonds of material existence. Look upon the Sun God and be not blinded, for you are in and of this Great One. Light and heat. Heat and light. Essence and vapor. Vapor and essence. Your blood takes on the quality of the light, essence and vapor. Your spirit lives in your blood, and your blood fl
ows with the essence of the Great Life.”

  The Knight of the Golden Eagle watched the face of the Sun grow from deep orange to yellow to white to blue. He saw the essence and vapors of the Great Spiritual being spreading out from its seething surface, forming tremendous arches, loops and clouds of plasma against the backdrop of space.

  “You shall become one with the vapor, the essence and the light.”

  Lucio could say nothing, his tongue cleaved to the roof of his mouth, and then saw he had no mouth, no body, nothing. He was but vapor, essence, light and form and then he was smoke, drifting upward, into eternity, into blissful... he was brought back to painful reality by the incessant tapping of the tattoo needle as sweat ran into one eye.

  “Stop it!!” He shouted and then found himself fully awake, sitting bolt upright on a cushion near the edge of the swimming pool. Catharine was beside him instantly.

  “Are you all right?” She asked and placed one hand on his forehead.

  He rubbed his eye. The hot Italian sun beat down on his head.

  “What is that smell?” She leaned closer to him. “Do I smell lotus blossoms?”

  “No!” He answered shortly and turned over on his stomach. These dreams and this strange, dream-like existence were making him crazy, and yet, he had no energy, no stomach for even attempting to analyze the situation as Edgard d’Brouchart had suggested. He simply didn’t care. He closed his eyes and immediately found himself walking among the shady groves of his gardens in Babylon.

  “My king!” A beautiful woman dressed in colorful beads, feathers and golden cloth called to him from beneath the shade of a pomegranate tree.

  Chapter Thirteen of Sixteen

  Cast abroad the rage of thy wrath

  “Speak!”

  The word rang in the depths of the cavernous tomb wherein were kept the Lords of Power. The blue flame shone forth brightly, unwavering, full of psychic power beyond measure, too powerful to behold with mortal eyes, but these were no mortal eyes.