by Matt Drabble
“Do you need a hand my child; you look as though you could do with it”.
Baine stood silently in the solid darkness of the Clock Tower, he closed his eyes and scanned the room for alien noises, once he was sure that he was alone he moved toward the descending staircase whatever he was here for it was lying at the bottom of the building where the new foundations sat atop the disguarded ruins of the 1st Century Roman constructions. He passed into the Winter Smoking Room, the ceiling was high and the room was decorated opulently, even in the gloom the green and gold wealth adorned the walls, an impressive and expansive fireplace dominated the space with a massive golden flue festooned with crafted figurines. The wooden floors creaked under his weight as the aged timber groaned loudly into the empty room, Baine moved to the centre and sat, he did not know why but merely that he must, his instincts had been on full alert since he had obtained the book, he was being led on his path and followed willingly. He closed his eyes and the room closed in around him, he was swallowed by time and fell through it, the hard floor beneath him gave way as he was removed from the present, the artificially created floor dissolved into the damp earth, the world turned back its clock, faster and faster until he had to squeeze his eyelids tightly against the whirling shift of sands. There was blackness and then there was life, he opened his eyes slowly, he was sat upon the grass surrounded by stone walls, he could hear the clanking of metal and the odour of smelting, heavy organised footsteps marched in a military fashion, he looked around and could see the early foundations on which Cardiff Castle would someday lie. The Roman fort covered roughly the same area as the modern castle, the gates on both sides were flanked by guard towers and deep holes had been dug to hold vicious looking sharpened wooden stakes, there were many internal storage buildings and troops and what looked like civilian workers were busy in their day. Baine stood and walked toward the largest of the internal buildings, he moved through the fort un-noticed by those around him, he did not know if he were the ghost or if they were but he passed silently. He could hear their loud and boisterous Latin conversations, soldiers were drilled and castigated by domineering superiors, the soldiers wore heavy looking metal jackets of armour over rough wool tunics, the men wore sturdy looking leather sandals, he could not believe the organisation and ingenuity baring in mind that this was the first century, it was easy to understand just how this country had ruled over large parts of the globe. Baine moved toward the large central building, he felt the draw of his own kind, a large voice called out from inside,
“Come in brother, I’ve been expecting you”.
Baine entered the stone domain, on a large wooden cot sat a man of considerable height and breadth, he wore a long sleeveless woolen tunic, his shoulders were broad and his chest powerful, his arms were thick and muscular, his features were dark and his hair was short and his face clean shaven.
“Marcus” Baine greeted his brother cautiously.
“We have not long” Marcus spoke in his own language but Baine understood nevertheless.
“If you come to me now, then you have possession of the book once again” Marcus overrode Baine’s puzzled look and pressed on in explanation, “This is a time of then and of now, I know only of you in the future as our link is stronger than the passing time, we are linked as brothers and as descendants of Enoch, we were created with purpose by a father with a secret. The book holds us and knowledge of our paths and of our father’s deeds, it was never meant for the eyes of anyone outside of us and ours, the book has updated itself through time to tell of the deeds of the world and of the warring angels”
“If it’s so important then how did you lose it?” Baine asked succinctly
Marcus looked as though he struggled to swallow his anger after all they were brothers and alike in many ways, “I do not know of the exact limitations of our physical interaction within our dimensions here, perhaps if you wish to insult me again we can find out” he raised his head and looked at Baine squarely.
Baine nodded in respect and smiled one of the few genuine smiles in his life, for the first time he actually felt the tug that may have been loneliness, here sat his blood, one who would truly deserve to stand at his shoulder.
“So then what have you for me, a plan, a path? A map would be handy, or even a few truthful explanations”
“I know what is restricted, our father spoke through the book of the terrible battle that raged across the heavens, of Gods anger at the Archangels betrayal and their subsequent banishment, the only thing certain is that you must trust no-one. The Grigori and the 11th Order seek the Cube with the same fervor and passion, they will lie, cheat, deceive and slaughter anyone and everyone to get its power back in their hands. Lucifer and Gabriel both held it for only the briefest second of time but it has completely consumed their entire universe ever since and they will do anything to get it back using you as their tool”.
“I know all this Marcus, I’ve been running my game now for a few days, I have taken the book from de Payens and kept it from them, I have already broken free of their hold, nobody controls me anymore, nobody” Baine spoke with an angry confidence.
“YOU ARROGANT FOOL” Marcus raged,” You understand nothing, you are not a free man, every move, every decision, every turn, every choice has already been determined for you by one side or the other” Marcus softened his tone, “When you took the life of the one called Sinclair it was at the will of the Priest, when Gabriel revealed the secrets of your existence it was at the will of Lucifer, the death of Beck’s daughter, the involvement of the detective McCullum, the suicide deaths of all three men, your taking the Book of Enoch, everything, of this was written in the stars and in the hearts of angels since time began brother, don’t you understand, they have had eons to plan for this. God has long since abandoned this world in disgust at our appetite for self destruction, we are alone here with only the power of the Archangels to influence and shape our destinies, God had washed his hands of mankind on earth and now shapes new worlds elsewhere. This here, is the very last fumes of our fathers legacy, the only chance created in a single solitary rip of time designed to intersect you at this moment, you were brought here to this location for an entirely different purpose and when our conversation is over you will slip right back into their precise plan again. Only from now forward you will be armed with the most powerful weapon our father could hand you, a free will”
“You know all of this theorising is great, really entertaining but it gets me nowhere Marcus, I need facts grounded in real life man” Baine implored, “Let’s start with how I can kill those fucking angels”
“The Seraphim cannot be killed by any traditional weapon, but they must at all times inhabit a human host, if you can isolate them and destroy the host then they would be vanquished to Purgatory as heaven is no longer open to them since their betrayal”
“Well that’s just brilliant, I need to know where this Cube is and just what the hell to do with it. I could not give two shits about the Grigori or the 11th Order and their squabbles, all I want is to walk away from this bullshit and leave the lot of them far behind, I want my life to be my own, to do with as I please, NO MORE FUCKING PUPPET STRINGS”
Baine sat down heavily on the cot beside his brother, suddenly he felt so very tired, he was empty inside, his life had never been his own despite his thoughts to the contrary and this fact crashed down upon his weary shoulders, everywhere he turned stood someone else in his path shaping his life and choosing his life for him. He had sat pathetically upon his high priced throne, driving ridiculous cars believing himself superior amongst the surrounding sheep whilst all the while he was a pawn to be moved around an earthly board at another’s will, it was all so laughable now, he was merely a hollow shell of man, a lifeless clay sculpture. His macho strutting and pride in the superficial had allowed his eyes to be clouded to his own reality, all of which now pained him as an intelligence awoke from a long slumber accompanied by an iron will, he had no idea just what a full existence would c
ontain, but for the very thought of one day of living as a free man he would die a thousand deaths.
Marcus watched the dawn of his brother, the birth of a warrior with a destiny; he held his tongue and waited as Baine processed his own thoughts for truly the first time. The building around them had already begun to fade, the walls started to dissolve and his brother grew weak and distant,
“Baine we don’t have much time left to us, you need to find the Cathedral of St David, it lies in the city of the same name, all I know is that the monk was a man close to God and as such entrusted with a marker to the Cube, all answers lie within the Book of Enoch Baine, you must hurry and hold true to your own thoughts, keep yourself inside and wait for your moment, you will stay on their path and in their plan until the right time is upon you, you will get one chance and one chance only. They will come at you from all sides, in force and in treachery, do not trust their faces no matter how much you may wish to, they have but one objective and it is not in your best interest to fall for their seductions. At the end of the fight you don’t have to stand tall, you don’t have to stand proud, but you must stand brother, you must stand”.
Baine found himself once again sat on the cold wooden floor surrounded by the Clock Tower, his back ached from the uncomfortable position and the stress of the situation, he stood and arched his back stretching his aching limbs for relief. He now had another step in his journey and he now had his own mind, he was clearly held in check by their plans, whatever choice he made at the minute, whatever path he took it had already been decided, all he could do was to keep his thoughts clear and his mind sharp for their deceptions. He walked slowly toward the door of the Winter Smoking Room lost in his own thoughts and concentration, he reached the exit door leading to the cold night again but warmed by his purpose, he crossed the lawned grounds quickly, eager to be on his way and about his business. As he crossed he noticed that the main exit door was slightly opened, figuring that perhaps a night cleaning crew were about he moved quickly and cautiously towards the exit. The entrance gate was flanked between the Barbican and Black Towers; it held two immense gates that were inserted on either side of the massive wall giving a large passageway into the castle. Baine slipped past the first gate and into the link, he could neither see nor sense any presence here, the second gate leading outside to the street was also ajar, Baine eased himself around the door and passed through to the outside, the walkway lead across the old moat that had surrounded the castle and was some ten to twenty feet from the street. Baine felt something wet on his shoulder that had come from the door puzzled he turned to look at the gate behind him and stopped, nailed in an reverse crucifix pose hung Hugues de Payens, blood flowed down from the horrific looking bolts that punctured his wrists and feet to nail him up and hold him to the heavy wooden gate,
“Oh fuck” Baine muttered already realising that it was too late, he span back to the dark street, suddenly the night exploded in light so severe that he was temporarily blinded.
“Armed police don’t move” came an authoritative voice electronically amplified from beyond the harsh glare as several members of the Welsh armed response unit pointed Heckler and Koch’s finest semi automatics expertly at his head.
Baine looked bleakly at the insurmountable odds and summed up the nights conclusion as best he could, “Bollocks”, he muttered.
CHAPTER VI
MEET AND GREETS
“So it shall be at the end of the world; the angels
shall come forth, and sever the wicked from among the just.
And shall cast them into the furnace of fire; there shall be a wailing and gnashing of teeth”.
Matthew 13:49-50
McCullum reached up and took the offered hand of the tall man, his back was painfully sore and he could feel the wet blood from the seeping wound soaking his shirt.
“I imagine you have many questions” the Tall Man said
“Yeah, well, how about we start with who you are and what the hell that was” McCullum held himself gingerly
“My name is Gabriel child and I am the Archangel from your Sunday school teachings Brendon” Gabriel’s smile was warm and radiant; McCullum instantly felt a love and compassion that he had been lacking in his life for so very long. “As for our friend I think that hell is probably a rather apt description, you have been walking in the trails of others for a short while now Brendon, walking unfortunately with little understanding, but first let me help you with that” Gabriel motioned towards his back and his throbbing injury
Gabriel moved slowly towards him, McCullum did not trust the man yet he could do nothing to ward off an attack even if one was launched, powerless he sagged onto one knee. Gabriel moved to his rear and placed his hands upon his back, the warmth was instant and he felt the fiery pain subside into a balmy haze, then a cooling breeze before dissipating completely, he stood and stretched to his full frame.
“Well that was pretty impressive Gabriel I must admit, you know I’ve got a dodgy knee that you could take a look at, you’re better than using BUPA” McCullum spoke with an out of character giddy levity and felt an easiness with this man, someone that was a complete stranger to him but he felt closer to him than anyone he had encountered since he left home. His carefully constructed intimacy walls had been torn down on flimsy foundations in seconds and it felt right. His experience with the Priest had left him guarded, but he immediately recognized those feelings as a hollow teenage infatuation, an insult to true emotions filling his very soul now.
“I have been with you since you were born Brendon, I have followed you and sat upon your shoulder watching throughout your life, guiding and protecting you, I know that you have been lonely child, I know that you have been in pain for so long now, I have been waiting for the time of your ascension” Gabriel placed a hand upon his burning brow, “Your time is now and your place is at my side”
McCullum suddenly found himself sobbing uncontrollably against the mans coat, he was drawn into this man, this angel, his, his father, he knew this to be true now, his mother had lied about his creation, for the first time he was held in the embrace of his father, the man who had sired him and he was home.
Desk Sergeant Robert Farrell was uneasy, he shifted from foot to foot nervously behind the supposed sanctuary of the large oak barrier that placed him inside the police station and separated him from the public. The reason for his disquiet currently resided in cell three, an oddly average man of no threatening size or demeanor, the only life in the suspect lie behind his eyes. Farrell had in his thirty year career faced many violent and disturbed people, he had once happened upon a woman roasting her own baby alive inside an ordinary kitchen oven as she peeled and chopped various vegetables with a smile on her face and a tune whistling on her lips, when they had led her handcuffed from her quiet suburban two up two down she had looked at him with a strange vacant stare that had chilled him to the bone, looking inside cell three he had felt the same chill. The man had been arrested at the castle of all places, with a highly respected but dead priest nailed to the front door; he had been brought in unsurprisingly without a struggle as the cities finest had descended with all of their fury, the man had apparently not spoken a word, he had no identification of any kind and only carried a small backpack containing some weird looking book. Farrell had logged the bag into the evidence room and was now waiting for Superintendent Irving to arrive for the questioning, for some reason Irving had taken a real personal interest in the case and everything was on hold until he got there. Farrell wandered down the hallway again, despite his unease he could not stop himself from periodically passing cell three and looking at the man, he slowly and cautiously slid open the small metal viewing window, the cell was dark only a small shaft of light permeated the gloom, the mans face was hidden in the blackness only his legs that hung over the cot were visible but Farrell felt the mans stare burning through the shadows. Farrell stood that way rooted to the spot for around a three minute lifetime, suddenly the bell from the front
desk sounded, the high pitched noise shattered the hypnotic state, he shook his head violently casting off the creeping weariness, he backed away from the door eager to leave the cell and its eerie occupant behind and headed rather too quickly back into the brightly lit reception area.
He was greeted upon his return by a stunning woman, she wore an expertly tailored suit that hugged dangerously at all the right curves, Farrell had been happily married for over twenty years without ever a single moment of doubt or temptation but oh boy, he would have thrown this woman across the counter and taken her tight here and now. He felt intoxicated by her musky allure, his mind felt oddly muddled and confused, the woman’s perfume filled his nostrils and watered his eyes, she smiled and he was lost completely, he did not even hear her name as she extended a perfectly manicured hand,