The Dove

by Brendan Carroll

  Lemarik ignored Luke’s questions and hugged him tightly. Luke looked over his shoulder at the black stallion. There was no rider in the saddle.

  “I thought I was too late!” The Djinni let go of him and brushed grass sprigs from his tartan. “Are you ready to go?”

  “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” Luke frowned. “I hate to leave, brother.” He looked about forlornly. “I’m afraid we’ll never see Scotland again.”

  “Do not be disheartened.” Lemarik hurried after the two horses and caught their reins. He brought the black horse back for Luke. “We have faced many such perils in the past and come through victorious. We can only keep our eyes set on the stars and reach for them when they draw nigh. If things do not go well for us here, then we will simply find another world to conquer!”

  Lemarik swung himself onto his horse, while Luke climbed onto the prancing black stallion. The Djinni reined his steed about and started back down the meadow.

  “Wait!” Luke called after him. “You’re going the wrong way, if you expect to…” He stopped as the sound of more hoof beats reached his ears. He turned about in the saddle and saw Vanni riding toward him on the red horse.

  Vanni stopped beside him and handed him his backpack.

  Luke took the pack and frowned at the Golden Eagle’s son suspiciously.

  “Come on! Time is not on our side, Master Luke!” Vanni kicked his horse and rode after the Djinni.

  “Wait!” Luke urged the stallion to a trot and caught up with him. “You’re going the wrong way!”

  “This is the right way.” Vanni told him, pointing toward the Djinni’s back. “And the shortest route.”

  Lemarik turned to look back at them.

  “Are you coming with us to London?” Luke was still unsure of what was going on.

  “No. No. No. No. No.” Lemarik’s voice drifted back to him. “You are coming with us! The King has commanded it.”

  Luke kicked his horse and came alongside his half-brother.

  “What King? Which King?” He asked in confusion.

  “The King of the Center. Your Royal Brother.” Lemarik told him. “We are going to Egypt!”

  “Egypt?” Luke halted his horse. “I can’t go to Egypt. They are waiting on me! I have to…”

  “Don’t be silly.” Lemarik stopped. “They don’t need you!” The Djinni turned and looked back at him.

  “But… the Grand Master… Uncle Luke… we’re supposed to go to London.” Luke stammered.

  “Would you rather go with them?” Vanni rode past him. “Selwig is going to Egypt. Father Simon is going to Egypt. Your sister is going to Egypt. There will be big trouble and much to do there.”

  “You got that right.” Luke muttered and looked back toward the stables before kicking his horse again and riding after Vannistephanetti.

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  Nicole pulled Bari away from her father while he struggled against her, kicking at him. Mark threw up his arms and tried to push himself back out of reach as Sophia came between them.

  “Stop it!” Sophia shouted at the enraged monarch as Nicole directed him toward the door.

  She turned to Mark and sat down in front of him. He looked totally confused and hurt. He didn’t understand.

  “It’s all right, Mark.” She took his face in her hands and then kissed him lightly on the lips. “It’s all right. That was pretty fancy what you said to him. Where did you learn it?”

  Mark shook his head and wiped at the trickle of blood on his lip.

  “Here, don’t worry about it.” She said as she scooted around and pulled one of the packs over against the wall of the mud brick house in which they had taken shelter.

  They had taken shelter in a small, abandoned village built against the banks of an ancient dry river. “Let’s try to get a bit of rest before we go.” She patted the pack and then lay down beside him, resting her head on her arm. He leaned against the pack, and then pulled her other hand to his lips.

  He sat watching the door while she drifted off to sleep. As soon as he was sure she was asleep, he got up very quickly and quietly, easing her head to the floor and made his way to the door. He stuck his head out and looked about. The ATV’s were parked a little further along the riverbed. This place was completely obscured by the banks cut into the desert millennia ago. Anyone traveling across the plain would never have known it was there unless they just happened upon it. That was exactly how they had found it when they had left the highway and cut across the barren landscape after the meteor storm had been left behind. In fact, they had almost run the vehicles over the bank and into the wash before stopping. Mark Andrew squinted up at the sky and then stepped outside. The hot breeze struck his face and whipped his kaffiyeh about behind him as he walked up the narrow lane between the closely spaced houses.

  “I must be about my Father's business.” He muttered to himself as he walked along. “I must be about my Father’s business. What is my Father’s business?”

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  Konrad frowned at sight of the brilliant sunlight that suddenly threatened to blind him. He was sitting on Simon’s stone monument behind the big house, trying to make contact with the missing members of their extended ‘family’. He had finally worked up enough nerve to try to reach Mark Andrew’s mind. He had checked on Simon and found him well, somewhere in France. He and his three companions had been having a quiet dinner in an elegantly appointed dining room. He had seen no one else with them and had found them wearing the brown robes of monks. Apparently, they were going as monks, incognito. The Tuathan healer had been with them, but he’d not seen him, though he had heard his voice speaking quietly with one of the Sinclair-Ramsay brothers. They had been discussing the possibility of gaining passage by sea to an unknown destination.

  He had been with the Golden Eagle when he had caught a huge rat for his supper from a drainage ditch near what could have only been the Nile River in Egypt. He’d left that behind quickly. He’d seen enough to know there were no people wherever Lucio was at the moment. The houses and streets, shops and marketplace he’d flown over before finding his meal, had been completely deserted. Packs of feral dogs and several cats had fled before the eagle’s low flight through the streets. The carts, vehicles and bicycles in the streets were all covered with layers of dust and sat or lay where the residents had abandoned them.

  When he had reached for Mark Andrew’s mind the images had come abruptly, sharp and clear. The desert landscape stretched away interminably in front of him. The sun beat down on the rocks and sand. But the images were less disturbing than the thoughts in the man’s head. He was awestruck by the vast expanse of nothingness in front of him. He was watching a scorpion scuttle across the ground with curious wonder. When he bent to look more closely at the venomous little creature, Konrad almost shouted a warning to him, but when the scorpion raised its tail and turned to meet the challenge of the curious Knight, he had backed away, sensing the danger. The scorpion rushed away and disappeared under a flat rock.

  He now saw another strange sight. Several large, pig-like creatures were rooting about in a dry streambed, overturning rocks and pawing at the ground with viciously clawed forelegs. He could hear their snorts and squeals as they grubbed out the creepy crawlers that lived under the rocks during the day. Again, he wanted to shout a warning to the Knight of Death as he walked toward the evil looking creatures. They had large humps on their backs, long, scaly tails tipped with spikes and long tusks. The biggest one suddenly became aware of the approaching man and raised its head, snorting loudly. The others stopped their foraging and joined the leader as they eyed this new force, sizing him up for either a better meal or something to run from.

  The lead animal lowered its head, let go a loud rumbling growl and charged. Konrad shouted out loud, lost his balance and fell from the monument onto the bricks, losing his connection with Mark Andrew.

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  Mark froze in h
is tracks as the beast charged him. Adrenaline kicked in and he spun about in the sand, running back toward the wadi, screaming in terror as the creature bellowed after him.

  The Colonel and his soldiers met him halfway up the dry streambed. Sophia burst from the doorway of the house in which she had been sleeping, running toward him. He had one hand on his kaffiyeh and was running toward her, screaming her name over and over. The soldiers stepped aside as he passed and then fired everything they had into the great beast pursuing him. The thing squealed in pain and shock and then tumbled forward, head over heels in the dirt.

  Mark caught Sophia up in his arms and continued running toward the little house before she could stop him. When they were inside, he slammed the wooden door, smashing it into a million rotted pieces and leaned against it. His face was white and his eyes were wide.

  “Outside!” He told her. “Very dangerous! Where is my Father?”

  “Mark!” Sophia took him in her arms and held him very close. “Mark, you’re killing me. Your father is not here.”

  “He is here! I heard him calling me.” Mark told her. “He is everywhere.”

  “No, no. You have to be still.” Sophia stroked his hair and kissed his cheek. “You have to be quiet and still.”

  “Ahhh. The still, small voice.” Mark nodded his head against her neck.

  “What?” She pushed him back and looked into his face.

  “The still, small voice.” He repeated. “After the earthquake a fire; but the Lord was not in the fire: and after the fire a still small voice. You see? My Father is not in the wind. My Father is not in the quaking of the earth. But He is everywhere and nowhere and His voice comes as a still, small voice in here.” He tapped his chest and smiled at her. “I hear him.”

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  The sun touched the horizon and something seemed all wrong. Abaddon leapt to his feet and scanned the horizon, frowning deeply. Jozsef Daniel emerged from behind the tent flap and stood wiping his hands on a towel.

  “What is that, Abaddon?” The ‘Prophet’ asked his dark angel.

  “I’m not sure, your Grace. I don’t see anything.” Abaddon squinted into the red-golden sunset.

  “But I can feel something.” Jozsef looked about. “The wind stopped blowing. That’s it! That’s all.”

  “No, that’s not all.” Abaddon shook his head. “The wind never stops blowing here, your Grace. Can you feel something… like a weight… no, like a sound?”

  “I hear nothing.” Jozsef dropped the towel in the sand.

  The general picked up his belt from the chair in which he had been sitting and strapped on his sidearm.

  “That’s a good point. It’s too quiet. I don’t hear anything.”

  The silence was almost oppressive around the tiny oasis. Not the slightest breeze brushed the palm fronds. No birds, no animals, no wind. They could see the soldiers moving about on the plain in front of them and all around them, setting up their tents for the night, but they could not hear them. Slowly, but surely, the soldiers began to notice the strangeness until they were distracted from their work completely. They stood looking about in confusion or strapping on their weapons in panic as the silence seemed to grow louder.

  Two sergeants and a captain rushed toward them from the command tent.

  “Sir! Your Grace!” The captain stopped in front of him. “We’ve lost radio contact with New Babylon. We were…” The captain stopped and turned about slowly.

  Jozsef was looking skyward, over the captain’s shoulder.

  “Allah preserve us!” The captain shouted and fell on his face in the dirt. The two sergeants followed suit, cowering with their faces toward the ground and their arms over their heads, babbling incoherently in three different languages.

  “Master!” One of the sergeants crawled to Jozsef’s feet and clasped him about the legs. “Save us!”

  Jozsef kicked the man away from him viciously and strode into the open space in front of the tent. Everywhere, his soldiers were running or standing frozen in place or rolling about on the ground in utter horror.

  “Abaddon!” Jozsef shouted at his servant. “What is that?! Can you see it?” He yanked on the cord that held the Urim and Thummin about his neck. He dragged the unwieldy instrument out of his shirt and held it in front of him.

  A rolling white cloud, streaked with very dark layers was covering the sky from the west toward them. Great bolts of golden light snaked out from the center of the boiling mass, but there was no thunder accompanying the lightning display. An ominous vibration began to manifest itself in the pebbly ground about their feet. Tiny rocks and particles of sand danced on the surface. The cloud took on a fan shape as it came and then from the depths, appeared seven dark shadows. The shapes came forward faster than the clouds in a V formation like that used by migrating geese. As they came closer, the forms resolved themselves as great winged horses. Their coats were shining white and their wings stretched fully ten feet on either side of their bodies. Sitting astride the horses were figures like men, also shining white, with long, flowing hair and great swords raised over their heads, but still no sound could be heard.

  “Angels!” Abaddon spat the word and drew his pistol.

  “You can’t shoot them, you fool.” Jozsef stared at him in disbelief.

  “What then, do you suggest, Your Grace?” Abaddon went down on one knee and braced his elbow on his knee, aiming at the lead horse.

  “Let’s see what they want!” Jozsef nudged him with his boot and clutched the device in front of him.

  “They want our heads!” Abaddon shouted at him and squeezed off two rounds. He could see the barrel of the pistol recoil and feel it in his hand, but the shot made no sound, nor did it have any effect on the rapidly approaching danger. The dark angel threw the pistol to the ground and drew his broadsword, stumbling to his feet.

  “Hold still.” Jozsef told him in a low voice as the first horse touched down several yards from where they stood. Its hooves sent up a cloud of dust, but still no sound reached their ears as the other six horses came to earth behind the first. The sight was innervating, their movements seemed too smooth, almost liquid as if they were coated with quicksilver. The sand splashed up around their hooves as if it were liquid. The riders dismounted and formed a horizontal line in front of their mounts. They began to walk toward the only two members of the Fox contingent who remained standing.

  When they were close enough, Abaddon began to speak in a language that Jozsef did not understand.

  “What?” Jozsef hissed at him. “What is wrong with you?”

  “Lucifer! It’s Lucifer!” Abaddon turned on his heel and fled toward the tent.

  Jozsef stood his ground. There was no where to run.

  “What do you want?!” He shouted at the golden-haired warrior when he stopped a dozen yards away.

  “We have come for our brothers.” Lucifer told him. “Repent and live, turn not from evil and you will be destroyed!”

  “Your brothers are not here.” Jozsef managed to smile at him. “You’ve come a long way just to frighten my army, great Lucifer, bringer of Light.”

  “Take that chain from off your neck and cast it on the ground.” Lucifer commanded him and raised his sword. “Your time is drawing near an end!”

  Jozsef looked down at the device in his hand. They had come for the Urim and Thummin.

  “You think to command me?” He asked and raised the crystal device in front of his face.

  “We came to offer you your one chance to leave this place!” Lucifer took a step back. “Surely your reasoning tells you that you cannot win!”

  “Oh? Why are you afraid, Lucifer?” Jozsef’s smile broadened. “Surely you are not afraid of a piece of pretty glass?”

  “Do not mock the Servants of God, Sabaoth. Leave this place and take your lowly minion with you. The time of destruction is upon you!”

  “You speak harsh words.” Jozsef’s tone was indeed mocking. He placed the two crystals in
front of his face.

  Lucifer looked back at his companions and uttered something in a high-pitched warble. The angels fell back toward their horses. Two green cones of light shot from the Urim and Thummin, striking the ground in front of Lucifer. Chunks of rock and debris flew into the air from the force. Lucifer threw up his arms in front of his face and then moved with such speed, he seemed only a red and white blur. The cloud above them crashed to the ground, obscuring the seven winged horses and riders as the sound of thunder returned suddenly. The ground quaked violently and Jozsef struggled to keep his feet. Thousands of screams arose from the soldiers as the noise ripped across the plain, rumbling and roaring. A tremendous blast of cold wind issued from the retreating cloud, buffeting the fleeing soldiers, sending them to the ground, rolling them and their tents over the desert as if they were dried leaves blown before a gale. Several of the nearest armored vehicles were overturned by the blast and the undulating ground.

  Jozsef was knocked onto his back and then pushed along the ground, out of control. He heard himself screaming as he was blown into his purple and white tent, which immediately collapsed upon him. When he crawled out of the ruin a few minutes later, the sky was gold and purple and the artificial wind was gone as was the cloud. He clutched the Urim and Thummin in his hands as he looked about for signs of Lucifer and his companions, but they were gone.

  “Abaddon!!” He shouted as the general crawled out of the purple and white billows. “You cowardly dog! Have you no confidence in me at all?!”

  “I beg your pardon, Your Grace.” Abaddon knelt at the ‘Prophet’s’ feet. “Lucifer is too powerful for me. I am afraid of him. I am a coward as you say!”

  “But I have this!” Jozsef struck him with the Urim and Thummin and he cried out in pain as he rolled away. “If you ever desert me again, I will destroy you myself. Now get my tent up and get these sniveling dogs back to work!” He turned and kicked at the captain who was still cowering on the ground with eyes clenched shut and his arms over his head.