Scenting Hallowed Blood (34 page)

Sofia smiled at Shem. ‘It is my
opinion, and that of my colleagues abroad, that you must begin your
work by reawakening the sacred sites, or holy omphali, of these
lands.’

Almost immediately, Enniel
interrupted. ‘We are aware of that, Sofia. But surely, Shemyaza’s
first task is to become familiar with...’ He glanced at Shem in
faint apology. ‘Forgive me, but I feel you need to understand
yourself before you can extend your powers out into the world.’

Sofia uttered a small gust of a
sigh. ‘I feel you under-estimate your guest.’

All waited for Shem to respond,
but he only lifted his shoulders in a shrug.

Daniel felt as if the cloak of
feathers had just dropped heavily onto his shoulders again. He
realised then exactly why Shem had wanted him there. ‘We need to
hear all that you have to say before decisions are made,’ he
said.

One of the Parzupheim expelled
a cough of sarcastic laughter. ‘We?’ He looked at Enniel. ‘This boy
is merely a dependant. I am not comfortable with this
“
we
”
. The involvement of
humanity in Grigori affairs brings only confusion and greed.’

Daniel fought a blush of
embarrassment. He knew he had to hold his own in front of these
people. Before Enniel could answer, he said, ‘I am Shemyaza’s
vizier, his adviser. The age of this body has little to do with the
maturity of my soul, or the fact that once I lived in Grigori
flesh.’

Still, Shem did not speak.
Daniel would have appreciated at least some support, but knew it
would not be forthcoming.

Surprisingly, Sofia said, ‘I
can vouch for Daniel’s presence here.’

Daniel’s antagonist pulled a
disapproving face, then shrugged resignedly. ‘I would not presume
to argue with
you,
Sofia.’

Not openly, anyway,
Daniel thought.

Sofia directed caustic smiles
around the table. ‘So, may I continue?’ She waited for comments,
but none came, then directed her attention back to Daniel. ‘For
many centuries, the rituals of the Grigori have been stagnant, for
the life force of the land is dormant. The same conditions prevail
around the world, to greater or lesser degrees. We cannot call upon
the power of the land with the same success as once we could. It is
essential that the power is made available to us, so that we may
guide the civilisations of earth into the new age. Eventually, we
hope to regain access to the star-gate, and find our way back to
the source.’ She laced her hands before her on the table and looked
at Shem. ‘Shemyaza, many thousands of years ago, your actions
caused the Anannage, our ancestors, to withdraw from this world.
They closed the star-gate to us, effectively cut us off from the
influence this world knows as god, or gods. It is your task to help
us reclaim our heritage. And you can begin here. Beneath this land,
a great force lies slumbering. Only you can reawaken it. Once you
do, energy will course along the corridors of ancient sites from
here to all corners of Albion.’

‘Just a moment.’ One of the
Parzupheim interrupted her. He stood up, a pale man with a shock of
thick black hair and dark green eyes. ‘Why should Shemyaza begin
work here? It is surely more sensible for him to reawaken the power
in the mid-shires, the very centre of the empire?’

Another stood, whose long brown
hair was held back at his neck. ‘No! The sacred soil of Eire is
where his work should begin. The energy has stirred in its sleep
more regularly there, and would require less effort to revive.’

Suddenly, the whole company
were on their feet, all arguing about where Shemyaza should begin,
each championing his own area as the most likely location. Sofia
remained seated, as did Daniel and Shem. Sofia shook her head in
private amusement.

Eventually, Enniel’s voice
thundered louder than all the rest. ‘Be seated! Are we a mindless
rabble to bicker this way? No. Listen to me. Where was it that our
ancestors first made land-fall, when they arrived from Phoenicia?
Where did they emplace the serpent?’ Everyone had quietened down
and were resuming their seats with disgruntled mumbles.

‘Here!’ Enniel said, his eyes
sparking. ‘Their first steps were upon Cornish soil. How can you
argue about the location for Shemyaza’s work? It is here, it has to
be! If all goes well in this place, Shemyaza need never set foot on
any other part of this country. The alignments and the energy
matrix itself will see to that.’

‘He is right,’ Sofia said
softly into the silence that followed.

Then tumult broke out again.
Daniel glanced at Shem, who raised a single, scornful eyebrow. He
reached out and touched Daniel’s face, as if they were alone in the
room. Daniel could not help but derive a certain amount of
satisfaction from the gesture.

Shemyaza’s caress effectively
stemmed the argument around them. All eyes turned towards Shem with
indignant surprise. There were times and places for dalliance with
human dependants, and a meeting of the Parzupheim was not one of
them.

‘What do you think?’ Sofia
asked him.

He shrugged and looked at
Daniel, who picked up the cue. ‘Seeing as Shem is here already, it
does seem sensible that should he do anything, it might as well be
in Cornwall. Perhaps we need to hear more.’ He did not want to tell
them about his visions of the night before. Let them all think he
lacked knowledge. Beneath the table, Shem pressed his thigh against
Daniel’s own to signal his approval.

Sofia expressed her gratitude
with a narrow smile. ‘So, then, is everyone in agreement? The gate
to the underworld lies here, and Shemyaza must enter it.’

Most of the company nodded,
although one or two still appeared truculent. Daniel glanced at
Shem and wished he’d stir himself to ask at least a few of the
questions.

‘What does that mean, in real
terms?’ Daniel demanded. ‘You talk of power being left beneath the
land and Shem having to awaken it. But can you explain to us
exactly how he must do this? What will happen once the serpent is
awake?’

The Parzupheim still looked at
him with stern disapproval. To them, he would remain an interloping
concubine. Only Sofia smiled.

‘Beneath the land is a network
of caverns and tunnels,’ she said. ‘Within them lies a deep,
pulsing energy, or entity, which was planted there by our
ancestors, who came from ancient Sumeria. It is known as the
serpent power, or the Shamir, and it lies slumbering, protected by
guardians. There are now twelve Grigori strongholds in the empire,
and the Shamir is their legacy. They must be the ones to control
it. The serpent has been dormant since the times of the Persian
Magians, who are remembered as the druids. They maintained the
sacred omphali and the energy matrix of the land.’

Daniel wrinkled his nose.
‘Omphali? What’s that?’

Sofia nodded. ‘Right. An
omphalos is a sacred centre of a settlement or community. Humans
tended to utilise or build structures around these natural
fountains of life force, such as beacon fire hills, stone circles,
stone quoits, standing stones, holy wells and springs, and in this
millennium, churches and cathedrals.’

Daniel nodded. ‘I see. Carry
on.’

Sofia directed a rather arch
glance at him, then smiled and resumed her explanation. ‘Our
ancestors set up a corridor of sacred sites — shrines, temples,
henges, and other such structures — which ranges from the
southernmost tip of Cornwall, up to the north-east reaches of
Norfolk. At this point, other corridors join with it like a rail
network, which stretches to all corners of the land, and across the
sea to Ireland and the smaller isles. The sacred sites along these
alignments were used as enhancers of ritual by shamans, druids, and
early Christian mystics alike. Look upon the sites as the ancient
equivalent of power stations. But with the fall of the druids, the
power stations closed down. When the energy reawakens, all of these
sites, which are like electrical appliances waiting to be plugged
in, will come alive, empowered by the force. Ancient peoples
believed that their survival was ensured if the sacred sites of a
country were energised and used efficiently; the sick would be
healed, crops would grow, communities would flourish and the
seasons turn in their proper manner. Whoever controls the destiny
of the omphali controls the destiny of the people who live around
them.’ She looked at Shem. ‘The Grigori must have this control.
Humans would not know how to use it and could cause only
destruction.’

‘Why does Shemyaza have to be
the one to awaken this energy?’ Daniel asked. ‘Why can’t any one of
you do it?’

‘Because he is the divine
king,’ Enniel replied. ‘Only he is worthy of the gaze of the
serpent.’ The words fell like a prophecy into the room. Daniel felt
Shem stir uncomfortably beside him.

‘And how will he do this? In
trance or in actuality?’

Enniel glanced around the
table. ‘That is yet to be decided.’ Daniel noticed he shot one
furtive glance at Sofia, perhaps suspecting the woman had already
made up her mind about it. But she remained silent. Daniel wondered
whether Shem had some subconscious inkling of what was required of
him. The previous night’s vision of the sphinx was clearly
connected with gaining access to the underworld and the serpent.
Daniel knew that Shem would quite happily let his vizier take on
the task rather than attend to it himself, but Daniel was unsure
why. Was Shem lazy, afraid, indifferent, or simply lacking in
confidence? Last night, he’d appeared to be ready to take action,
assume responsibility, but now, he was making absolutely no
contribution to the meeting, and appeared to be lost in his own
thoughts. Daniel also sensed that, despite the Parzupheim’s outward
appearances of arrogance and calm, they were nervous and wary of
Shem, as if they feared he might leap from his chair at any moment
and proclaim himself their king, or perhaps destroy them.
They
don’t know him,
Daniel thought. In his opinion, Shem was still
reeling from the transformation he’d undergone in Little Moor. He
wondered himself whether Shem was capable of doing what the
Parzupheim required of him.

While the discussion took place
around him, Shemyaza found his mind drifting. It was hard to
concentrate on what was being said. Let Daniel deal with it; it was
it his function after all. Shem stared at the stained-glass window
ahead of him. He thought he could hear some faint, far-off music,
the sound of a woman singing. Was it calling to him? He thought of
Ishtahar, but dismissed it. He mustn’t think that way. It might
weaken him. Last night, he’d almost convinced himself he would do
whatever the Parzupheim required of him. But now he felt drained
and listless, perhaps because of the energy he’d expended in
bestowing longevity to Daniel. The talk around the table meant
nothing to him. He wanted to leave the room, walk out into the
gardens to feel the elements around him. The room was stifling
him.

‘Shemyaza?’ The sharply spoken
word sliced into his awareness.

‘What?’ He looked at Enniel,
saw immediately that Enniel knew he’d been paying no attention.

‘We feel that you should
undergo the ceremony of coronation. The land must recognise you as
its spiritual king.’

Shem laughed. ‘King?’ He looked
at Daniel. ‘Did you hear that?’ Then he spread out his arms at the
gathering. ‘Do I look like a king?’

‘It is merely a formality,’
Sofia said.

‘Rather more than that!’ Enniel
snapped. ‘Shemyaza, it is your duty and your right. Take the
peacock crown. It has always been yours.’

‘Your co-operation will make
them very happy,’ Sofia drawled. Daniel noticed she excluded
herself from the remark.

‘Crown Daniel,’ Shem said. ‘He
will be your king.’

‘I think you fail to appreciate
the solemnity of this offer,’ Enniel said, clearly having trouble
controlling his voice. ‘Whatever his capabilities, Daniel cannot
assume the mantle of the divine king. He is your vizier, but he is
not you.’

Daniel was astounded that Shem
could have suggested such a thing. He recalled, uncomfortably, the
ritual at the High Place in Little Moor, when Peverel Othman had
offered him to a demon. Was this really any different? ‘Do it,
Shem,’ he said.

Shem raised an eyebrow at the
sharpness of Daniel’s tone.

‘I believe your
vizier
has just advised you,’ one of the Parzupheim murmured, conjuring a
ripple of soft remarks around the table.

Shem shrugged. ‘All right, if I
must.’

Enniel seemed far from happy
with his attitude. ‘We shall enact the ritual this evening.’ He
glanced around the table. ‘Shall we break for refreshment now?’

After the company had risen and
spread out around the room, Austin led in a retinue of servants
pushing trolleys laden with food and drink. Daniel stood with Shem
and Enniel by the fire-place. He felt angry with Shem, and weirdly
betrayed. Enniel tried to make conversation, but could elicit only
monosyllables from Shem, and clearly thought it beneath him to try
and talk to Daniel. When Sofia stalked over, he excused himself and
went to attend to other guests. Sofia touched Shem on the arm, ‘You
have ruffled their feathers.’

Shem shrugged. ‘I find it hard
to take all this seriously.’

Sofia nodded and lowered her
voice confidentially. ‘They are a stuffy lot, and rather too fond
of pomp and circumstance.’ She paused. ‘Why don’t the three of us
go out into the garden for a reviving breath of air?’

Outside, Sofia lit a cigarette
and walked in silence. No-one wanted to speak, yet the lack of
conversation was comfortable, rather than otherwise. Daniel still
did not trust Sofia, but wondered whether he was being too harsh in
his judgement. She alone seemed to appreciate how Shem felt, and
was prepared to accept Daniel in the role where Shem had placed
him. They walked to a gazebo, which was surrounded by dead
rose-vines. Here, Sofia sat down upon a carved stone bench that
might have come from the sands of Sumer. Daniel sat beside her, but
Shem remained standing, staring out over the garden to the
cliff-top.