by C. L. Roman
“Not like that. We trained – sparred with one another often. One of our duties was to defend the faithful against harm so of course we practiced. At the time I never thought about what we might have to defend you against.” He shook his head slowly. “But on the training field it was always a matter of building skill, agility, never with the intent to harm.” He sat again on the log and considered. “If I can become larger in battle, I should be able to change my size at other times as well.”
Over the next hour he experimented with different approaches, finally discovering that he could change his size by an effort of will, but that such effort was tiring. Danae watched in silence as he first became as tall as the oasis trees, then shrank to the size of a child. Her eyes grew round as he made the discovery that his size was indeed the least of the things he could change about himself. In turn he became a young boy, an old man and finally a donkey, shaggy grey fur and all. Finally he returned to his true form and size, came back and sat beside her once more, tired, but pleased with this discovery.
“If I can do it, the rest should be able to as well. I don’t know why I didn’t know this before. Perhaps it is as simple as the fact that I never needed to before.”
“But you were a warrior, and a messenger. Surely in your work…”
“There are many of us, more than can be counted. For a long time after the Beginning my only duties were to train and stand ready. After Adam and Eve left the garden…” he hesitated as she smiled sadly.
“You do not offend me. I know the history of my kind,” she said and with a flick of her fingers indicated that he should continue.
“Well, in any case, for a long time there was no need for messengers. As the family of man grew, we were called on more and more, but still, there was no need for disguise. It seems that Sabaoth must have known a time would come when such a talent would be needed.” He stood and gently pulled her to her feet.
“Come, I must speak of this with the others.” He turned, began walking back to the encampment as tiny spirals of sand danced around his feet but Danae’s voice stopped him.
“Fomor, I think your size is not the only thing you are able to change.” He turned to face her and she pointed with shaking fingers to the swirls of agitated sand at his feet.
He followed her nervous gaze, “What? The wind?” he asked.
She nodded, her face tense with apprehension, but Fomor only grinned easily and took her hand in his.
“See now,” he said, “that, I knew about.”
She smiled and the two joined hands for the walk back to the encampment.
Behind them a long scaly form slithered away through the brush. So, it grows interesting. Should Benat go to the Master? Should he? No, it is not enough, Benat will wait.
The diamond shaped head suddenly darted out; fangs flashed and sank into the flank of an unwary, warm blooded creature. Terror glazed the soft brown eyes as poison from the bite began its slow, painful work. The little rabbit tried to hop away, but a sharp claw darted out and ripped a shoulder muscle to the bone. The rabbit keened in terror and pain while a low, hissing chuckle escaped its tormentor. Yes, Benat would wait, but there was no reason he couldn’t enjoy himself a bit in the meantime.
Chapter Nine
When the couple returned to the encampment they found that the other humans had already returned to the village. At Fomor’s call the angels settled around the fire and listened to the news he brought. When he had finished there was silence for a time.
“How many other unknown talents do you think we have?” Volot’s speculation was shared by several others.
Gant busied himself experimenting with the new found ability, changing into as many shapes as he could manage in quick succession. Finally he shrank into a tiny humanoid figure with translucent wings and perched, panting with exertion, on Adahna’s shoulder only to have her brush him off absently. He fluttered over to Sena’s outstretched hand and sat, cross legged, in her palm, resting for a while before resuming his natural shape and size.
“There is no way to know,” Sena said, “but I would imagine there are a number of them. As Fomor told Danae, we have a certain amount of control over the weather. We were created with this knowledge, but we have had little need to explore our abilities beyond the basics before now. I have seen strange things in the Shift but never thought much of it.”
Fomor and the others nodded, but Danae looked puzzled. “The Shift?”
Jotun responded quietly, “It is the way we travelled between Par-Adis and Earth. In fact, between any two points. Distance is,” he paused, searching for the right word, “complex. The Shift is not really distance as you know it. Instead it is a space, in which all things, all times, exist together in a single dimension. One often sees strange things there, but they are out of context and often difficult to understand.”
“And standing around staring tends to be hazardous to your health,” Adahna said with a shiver.
“I usually close my eyes when I shift,” Sena added grimly. “There are things I do not want to know about other times and there is no controlling what one will experience there.”
“It offers knowledge,” Volot disagreed. “I never close my eyes or ears in the Shift. I have learned a great deal there. For instance, one day humans will measure time differently than they do now.”
Danae looked even more confused. “But how can that be? How else would one measure time than in turnings, seed time and harvest?”
Fomor shook his head, “As Jotun said the things we see in the Shift are often strange and confusing. You see them in pieces, with no context to provide understanding.”
“I saw a painting once,” Phaella said, solemn eyed. “It was vast and so amazing. I think it was meant to represent Sabaoth reaching out to Mankind. There was a man – maybe Adam? He was reaching up to Sabaoth, their fingers almost touching. It was heartbreaking and joyful all at once. It was beautiful.”
The group grew silent, each one staring into the fire, or off into the darkness, lost in their own thoughts. Finally Fomor stood and stretched.
“Whatever unknown abilities we may possess, it seems that they will come to us as we need them, or not, as Sabaoth chooses. One thing we may be sure of, the Fallen have lost their connection to the Father.” He paused, giving the others time to take this in. “When I fought Bansh, he did not have the light of battle in him; instead he seemed to become a sort of blackness, a shadow, almost impossible to see.”
“But you still have it, the light that covers us when we fight? Then…” Volot stumbled to a halt.
Fomor nodded. “It would seem that Sabaoth has not completely cut us off after all.”
“Then we can go home?” Jotun asked.
Silence greeted his question. It was a hope they had given up on by this time. For most the question had changed from could they go home, to did they want to?
“There is only one way to find out.” Sena stood up. “I will shift home, seek out Colonel Dolossus and find out whether we might be welcomed back, what punishment we will face.”
Gant leapt to his feet. “No! The risk is too great. What if Sabaoth banishes you?”
She smiled, “Then it is the same as it is now.”
“Unless He throws you to Earth as He did the Fallen.” The protest ripped free of his lips as if the worst had already happened.
“He’s right, Sena. You don’t even know if Dolossus survived the war,” Volot glared at her. “The risk is too great.”
“Then she will find someone else,” Fomor inserted calmly, “preferably someone in Gabriel’s unit. His cadre is highest in the command structure and will know the most about how abstaining units are being judged. If the preliminary contact goes well, you may contact Gabriel directly at your discretion.”
“Fomor, you cannot be considering this! She could be walking into a summary execution!” Volot surged to his feet, fists clenched, eyes blazing
Fomor’s eyes frosted over, spitting icy sparks of their own. �
��Are you questioning my decisions Lieutenant?”
“You cannot order her into a situation you know will lead to certain death.” The words shot out like arrows.
“I have ordered nothing. She volunteered. And there is no such certainty here.”
The light breeze had died away and the temperature in the little campsite had dropped several degrees. Danae shivered, but could not take her eyes from Fomor and his second in command. Gant, desperate as he was to keep Sena safe, said nothing. His gaze jumped from Volot to Fomor and back again as the confrontation unfolded.
“You don’t know that! You know nothing! You cannot send Sena on what is likely to be a suicide mission.”
“I will ask you again, Lieutenant, are you questioning my authority?” Fomor’s stare was as sharp as steel, slicing through the air between them as efficiently as a blade. Silence stretched thin between them until Volot snapped it with an explosion of breath.
“No,” he said. “I do not question your authority. I am merely, in my clumsy way,” he tried a rueful grin, “trying to point out issues I felt you may not have thought of.”
“Have you ever known me to issue a directive without considering all the possibilities?” Fomor did not relax. If anything the tension flowing out of him became more intense.
Volot shifted uncomfortably, “No, sir” he muttered.
“When we first arrived on Earth, you pledged your loyalty to me, but maybe you have changed your mind. Or perhaps our sojourn here has caused you to forget your chain of command, Lieutenant. Have you abandoned the duty you owe your commanding officer?”
Volot snapped to attention, “No, sir!”
Fomor stared at him icily for a long moment. His glance around the fire had every member of the unit snapping upright. “Very well. Sena, you have your assignment. May Sabaoth be with you.”
Sena stood and walked out of the firelight, pausing to smile at Gant and place a gentle hand over his heart.
Fomor waited as the reconnaissance officer passed into the Shift, then turned back to the others. “The rest of you, get some rest. Regardless of the outcome, tomorrow promises to be eventful.” He turned and held his hand out to Danae. The two left the encampment without a backward glance.
“Will they be all right?” she asked.
“They are soldiers,” he replied simply. The night was soft around them; birds mumbled sleepily in the dark and tiny eyes winked open as the nocturnal awoke. “Danae, I want – I need to tell you…” he fumbled to a halt and stopped on the moonlit path to take her hands in his.
She looked so beautiful in the pale light. Her hair was a black cloud, her green eyes glimmering in the flawless face. He led her to a boulder by the path and she sat down, waiting patiently for him to speak. Fomor watched her and finally crouched down in front of her, taking the small, work toughened hands in his.
“I have no right to ask anything of you. When I left Heaven, I thought it was forever. I had no thought that we might be able to return. The thought hurt me more than I can explain. Then I met you and everything changed. I began to hope again, for a future that contained more than bitterness and loss.” He hesitated as the soft sounds of the night flowed around them.
“But now, Sena may return tomorrow with orders for us. Orders we cannot disobey no matter what the consequences.” He closed his eyes a moment, took a deep breath and continued. “The battle has been won, but Luc – Lucky is not destroyed and we can no longer avoid choosing sides given what we have discovered. So, now less than ever do I have the right to ask anything of you.”
She smiled at him and traced the flat plane of his cheek with her hand. “Our hearts give you the right. Ask, Fomor.”
He gazed back at her, heart breaking with all the things he knew he had no right to say. He caught her hand in his, pressed his lips to her palm. “I want to speak to your father, Danae. I would speak to him about you, about us. But it would be wrong.”
Her brow contracted as her eyes reflected her confusion. “Is your heart so blind, that you doubt my answer?” she asked.
“My heart is yours. There will never be another for me. Before you, I did not know that I could love in this way. I want to give you everything, provide for you, protect you. But there are things I cannot give you – things you have a right to expect.”
“What things could I possibly want that you cannot give?” she whispered, raising his hand gently to her lips.
He pulled his fingers free, paced before her, then stood facing her, hands fisted at his sides against an enemy he did not know how to fight. He drank her in, thought of her eyes in a smaller face surrounded by clouds of hair the color of night. Thought of a little boy with his mother’s curiosity and his father’s strength. His heart shook with longing for things that were not possible. If she knew, she would turn away. Perhaps that would be best, but he could not find in himself the strength to utter the words that would eliminate him from her regard. Instead he chose another obstacle.
“When Sena returns…” He did not have to continue. She understood.
“Ahba may call you back. He may punish you. I know. And still, my answer is yes. Speak to my father, for my heart is yours and I know, as surely as a bird knows her own nest, there will never be another for me either.”
Fomor sighed and dropped to one knee, pressed his forehead to their clasped hands. “You shame me with your courage. Still there is something I haven’t told you, something you must know.” The smile he attempted for her was painful. “I can’t give you—” Fomor’s head lifted abruptly, his nostrils flaring like a hound on the scent. “Something comes,” he said tersely. “Stay here.”
A flash of light exploded in the darkness behind them even as he was whipping around, drawing his sword and surging back down the path all in one smooth motion. Danae cried out and sprinted after him, heedless of what danger she might be running into, her only thought to remain by his side. The couple burst back into the campsite single file and stopped short. Two groups faced one another across the fire. The angels of the unit stood in a rough semi-circle, at rigid attention facing a man-like figure flanked by a group of six newcomers. The new group together produced a combined illumination so bright that Danae’s eyes shut tight involuntarily even as she fell prostrate to ground.
The creature floated above the ground on a triple set of wings and its face was like nothing she had ever seen. It couldn’t be, but in the single glance she forced herself to take, it seemed that it had four faces, that of a man, a lion, an ox and an eagle. Of his six wings, he covered his torso and feet with four and flew with the other two. His eyes and skin glowed like flames, as if he burned from within. Danae’s heart slammed jerkily against her ribs as she struggled to breathe. Surely this being is Ahba Himself.
Fomor unthinkingly shifted his sword to his left hand, moved to the front of his unit and thumped his right fist to his heart in salute. “General Bellator. This is an unexpected honor.” The blinding light faded as the creature settled to the ground, tucked his wings away and assumed a more human form.
“And one, I’ll wager, you hoped never to have, yes?” The general raised a finely arched black brow in question. He was taller even than Jotun and as black as that angel was fair. His hair grew in a tightly curled cap over deep brown skin that glowed as if lit from within. Intelligence shone from eyes the color of topaz, shot through with an incandescence that only Heaven itself could have produced. The classic planes of his oval face might have been carved by a master sculptor of some future age, intended from the beginning to broadcast his angelic nature. The sapphire tunic he wore covered a body made for endurance, speed and agility rather than brute strength, but Fomor knew the strength was there as well. The general was not a person one could afford to underestimate.
He opened his mouth to answer, but was waved to silence. “You needn’t answer, Captain, but I would think you might want to put away your sword, unless of course, the reports on you were wrong and you have joined the Fallen after all?” Agai
n his brow rose as Fomor hastily sheathed his sword.
“No, sir. I remain loyal to Sabaoth.”
“And yet, you disregarded your orders.” Without waiting for a reply he continued, “in fact, your entire unit has committed treason, is this not so?”
“We received no orders sir. And no sir, the unit is not in rebellion. I accept full responsibility. I brought us here. I alone am at fault.”
“So, your lieutenants are mere puppets, with no ability to choose their own course?” The general’s voice was calm, almost pleasant, with only the merest suggestion of a sneer.
Gant made a small movement and would have spoken but for Fomor’s stern glance.
“I repeat sir, we received no orders. Furthermore, my people merely followed my orders as they have been trained to do. I alone am responsible.”
“You mean you abandoned the fight before orders could reach you!” The general snarled now, allowing anger to flash in his eyes.
Fomor flinched but stood firm. “Yes, sir.”
“Very well, you stand condemned out of your own mouth. You have rebelled against the throne of Par-Adis. You are a traitor and as such, will be sentenced to death.” At his gesture two of the angels in his unit flanked Fomor and took hold of his arms.
“No!” Danae’s scream shocked the entire company. She struggled to her knees and held out her hands to plead, “You expected him to fight against his brothers? His sisters? To kill those he loved? You cannot destroy him for trying to avoid that.”
“An angel’s only loyalty is to Sabaoth. There are no other considerations,” the general’s voice was a whip, but his eyes were gentle as they settled on Danae and his tone softened as he continued. “Little one, surely you know this. The law is clear.”
“What of the law of love? Are we not taught that love covers a multitude of sins?”