The Wayward Godking (41 page)

“Not exactly,” Luke shook his head. “They actually belong to that hideous piece of crap that kicked our collective asses yesterday. My sister tells me that his name is Asadarlu. You will notice that the name Adar is contained in his own. Why that is so escapes me, but he is one of the powers of Marduk and his specialty, apparently, is forging flaming swords. My dear father took one from him a few eons ago. My brother…” Luke paused and grimaced as if in pain. “The
real
Mark Andrew, that is… took another one from him and almost lost his life in the process. My sister intervened in his magick and saved him, but he retains the sword still, I believe. My father did not have his sword with him when I last saw him because he lost it in the Seventh Gate. I believe that my… brother, Luke Matthew, now carries it. The sword that he had with him was possibly my own that I also lost in the Seventh Gate. At any rate, I don’t have the sword anymore. I doubt he will be back.”

Lucio coughed slightly and then drew the flaming sword from under the table. He laid it on the smooth alabaster surface and raised both eyebrows.

“Anu took it from him,” the Italian said.

“Ahhhh,” Luke nodded his head. “Let me amend that. He just might be back.”

“If this Asadarlu is a power of Marduk, he won’t be back,” Semiramis spoke up. “He will not risk confronting Anu again. Anu could destroy him with one wave of his hand.”

“Let us hope that is so,” John Paul said and then smiled at Aurora.

“Let us go after him,” Gregory offered suddenly. “He is surely hiding in the forest. I saw him running like a coward before I passed out. I know that Nicholas and I can take him if we are on the offensive.”

“No! He is much older and wiser than many of us here, and he is the master of all masters in the art of combat.” John Paul shook his head. “We will wait here. There is more amiss now than meets the eye. That Anu is walking among us is a powerful sign that all is not right with the above
or
the below. We must wait until we receive word from my father.”

“
Your
father?” Luke Andrew frowned at him.

“I meant to say
your
father,” John’s smile faded and he let go another sigh.

“My father is on Christmas Island in the South Pacific,” Luke told him. “We need to find out what is going on. If you know of some way to contact the Djinni or my father, I suggest you do it.”

“It was Easter Island,” Lucio corrected him. “I don’t think they are there any longer. I found myself in another place. A forest. Perhaps here in the underworld or perhaps somewhere else. I think that we were all taken from the island when Nicole came to us.”

“The Djinni told us that the world had tilted on its axis and that much of it was destroyed in the process,” Luke Andrew continued. “He said that Scotland is now in the Southern Hemisphere and that the orang-utans have all perished. I’m no physical scientist or geologist, ladies and gentlemen, but if what Lemarik says is true, then we may be confined to the underworld for a very long time… perhaps forever.”

The meeting erupted into a series of muffled explosions of disbelief before subsiding into silence again.

“If that is the case,” John Paul told them all. “We must assume God has put us here to protect us.”

“I would not necessarily attribute it to God,” Luke spoke again. “I was in the Seventh Gate, and then I was hauled away and judged for my crimes. I was then put into prison awaiting the execution of my sentence. My father came and took me to Easter Island. He did not take me there by design. He went there because Lemarik was already there and was sleeping. My father was using the dream fields to travel. If God put us here, then he allowed us a way out.”

“So you believe that we may travel the same way?” Semiramis asked the question.

“You are all familiar with this mode of travel?” Lucio asked them.

“It was once a preferred method,” the Queen told him. “If you will recall, I believe I visited your dreams more than once, Sir.”

Lucio fell silent as John Paul took over the meeting and the discussion of how, who, what and where they would attempt the dream walking.

((((((((((((()))))))))))))

Mark Andrew broke free from Marduk’s choke hold, rolled across the floor of the cavern, plucked his sword from the ground and sprinted into the crowd, shouting for them to fall back. Elves, men and Boggans fled in every direction as the Lord of the Seventh Gate ran back through the Queen’s wrecked chambers and started up the ramp, leading to the upper reaches. Marduk recovered his sword as well and chased after him. The Queen sat in the midst of her ruined boudoir with her chin resting in her hand. Plotius stood nearby his mistress, looking frightened and confused. Nergal walked back and forth beside the stone bower, kicking broken crystal petals and chunks of rock out of his way, waving his arms angrily while haranguing his wife for having brought these volatile personalities together in such close quarters.

The Knights of the Council and the rest of the Templar faction followed faithfully after their Knight of Death as he continued his epic struggle against the enraged Marduk. The Lord of the Sixth Gate had attempted to call upon several of his powers to use against Mark Andrew, but Ereshkigal had used her own powers to block him. She could not stop them, but she could alter their methods if necessary. She would not allow Marduk any special benefits to help him. They could do nothing more than fight each other with swords and bare hands, but it was bad enough and threatened to go on for days, weeks or even years.

Most of the women present had left the caverns and drifted back to the open air of the pavilions in the meadow, having lost interest in the fight. Only Lily Ramsay remained with her sons, Luke Matthew and the Dove as they chased the combat back and forth through the caves and passages, unable to help or hinder the progress of the battle.

Mark ducked inside one of the passages at the top of the ramp and Marduk charged in after him. The Knight of Death disappeared around the first bend and then dove at Marduk’s feet when he rounded the rock wall in pursuit. The move took Marduk off guard and Mark lifted him bodily from the floor, tossing him over his shoulders, directly into the pit that had once contained the horrid black scourge. Marduk grabbed wildly at the ledge and caught hold of a small protrusion with one hand. A steaming cloud rose from the depths of the foul hole and disappeared through vents in the rock ceiling above. Marduk bellowed in rage and dropped his sword into the depths. He clung to the edge of the pit while Mark Andrew stood looking down at him with a slight smile on his bloodied face.

“Give over, brother,” he said when Marduk stopped yelling curses at him. “Give over, and I’ll help you up.”

“I don’t need your help, spawn of perdition!” Marduk spat at him and tried to pull himself up.

“You’ve lost your weapon. Give it up,” Mark told him again and leaned his hands on his knees, resting his back which displayed several long gashes, oozing blood. They had both landed numerous glancing blows on each other, but nothing serious so far.

Marduk strained and groaned and got both elbows up on the ledge. His face was a mask of rage and unbridled hatred. He’d tried to transform himself several times into the more hardy form that he generally used in the Abyss, but Ereshkigal had blocked his efforts quite effectively. The human form he wore was not well adapted to breathing the foul vapors Nergal was so fond of. His eyes burned and his lungs hurt as the errant wisps encircled his head from time to time. He kicked and fought for a toe hold on the slick sides of the pit.

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.