The Centaur (17 page)

Edgard snorted derisively and looked away from him.

“Be that as it may. Time is short and getting shorter. I don’t know when exactly this beastie will arrive and I don’t know exactly where she will hit us, but I can tell you that we are in grave danger here. If we are lucky, the water will not reach us. In the worst case, we could be at ground zero for a land strike. I believe the scientists used to call it an extinction level event. We are on the brink of destruction and Edgard d’Brouchart has every right to feel the need to say farewell, but not goodbye. If ever you believed in the tenants of this Order and if ever you had faith in the Almighty Creator and His Son, Jesus Christ, you might wish to call upon Them both if you wish to see your families again. I think that is what the Master is telling you. We have all come through some very bad times. Sometimes together…” Mark nodded to Lucio directly and smiled. “Sometimes alone, but remember this, my Brothers… my children… you are never truly alone and if you cannot feel the Divine Connection within this very tent, then you are totally unfeeling. If you cannot hear your Brothers’ heartbeats as you sit next to them, then you are surely deaf and if you cannot see the Divine Light shining in your Brothers’ eyes, then you are as blind men.”

“Whatever is waiting for us atop this mountain cannot be any worse than anything we have seen so far. It may be a different form. It may be larger or smaller or louder, but it cannot stand against the light, for as a single candle flame cannot be doused by even immense darkness, not a single spark within any one of you can be dimmed by the evil awaiting at the summit of the Holy Mountain. If he cannot stand against one of you, how can he hope to stand against all of you? Do not go into this battle fearful or with dread, but go with the knowledge that you have overcome this world already and go with the Wisdom God has planted in your hearts, knowing full well that whatever we do, we do in the name of God, the Father, and if we should die today, we die safely, knowing God will deliver us up from this world into the next where we shall become one with the Holy Spirit and be joined forevermore with each and every soul that exists now, that existed in the far distant past and will exist into the far distance future. Thank you for your ears, Brothers. I have spoken too much, too long. I suggest we take the vote and go with it.”

Mark sat down abruptly yielding the floor and giving rise to a number of assenting voices, urging the Master to take a vote on the question of whether to risk opening the Ark without the Urim and Thummin or to simply toss it into the crevice, which had, upon closer examination, been a volcanic vent just as Lavon had predicted.

The superheated air rushing up out of the shaft shimmered with radiant heat and the glowing hot rocks were only a few dozen feet below the surface. Something very dramatic was about to happen on the top of a heretofore non-tectonically active, relatively obscure and by no means spectacular, mountain in the Horeb range. But the inspection of the crevice and the explanations offered by Lavon, Christopher and
Izzy d’Ornan took much of the mystery out of the thing, although it did not alter the fact that this was a less than natural occurrence, which had been brought about by their presence and their intent.

Edgard stood again and waited for the silence to return before speaking.

“Brothers. Sir Ramsay has made some interesting points and has spoken both words of encouragement and words of dire warning. His attitude toward the god of this mountain may seem a bit flippant to some of you and you may wonder at his apparent disregard for the eminent destruction awaiting us at the summit of Sinai.” The Grand Master again looked around at the faces before him. There were varying expressions of confusion and doubt. “I must remind you Sir Ramsay is not exactly what he appears to be.”

Mark frowned slightly, unsure of where d’Brouchart was headed with his commentary.

“We have… or, at least, some of us have witnessed the transformation of Sir Ramsay from the enigmatic Scotsman, who carried a golden sword, dressed in black and kept himself isolated in a relatively obscure part of the world for centuries into the King of the Elves, into Myrddyn the Sorcerer, into Thoth, the Atlantean and last, but not least, into the archangel Uriel. What may be his final destination one can only wonder.”

“I object, Your Grace!” Lucio Dambretti stood up abruptly.

He had been holding his breath, waiting for the Grand Master to name a few other personalities through which the Knight of Death had operated.

“Earlier I was reprimanded for talking about food, but now I will tell you I said ‘that would be the pot calling the kettle black’! I now say it again and more loudly in defense of Brother Ramsay.”

The Italian’s temper was again asserting itself in spite of Lucio’s new outlook on life. He had resigned himself to destruction, made his confession and accepted his fate cheerfully enough in spite of his overwhelming disinterest in everything except the fact he would never see Catharine or Vanni again in this life.

“You, yourself, should look in the mirror, sir, or should I say, Your Highness, King Solomon? How dare you point an accusing finger at him when you are… you are…” Lucio stumbled to a stop. He had no idea what d’Brouchart was… exactly. “
Santa Maria!
” He looked around the table. He had everyone’s attention. “Tell me, Your Grace, who is it that leads this party, this day? Is it Lord Nebo? Or is it King Naboplasser of Babylon? Why have you treated your son so badly? Why did you make him eat grass for seven years? To please your ego simply because he honored Lord Marduk above you? Tell us, Your Grace, what is the difference between yourself and Brother Ramsay? What is the point of your harassment now?”

Edgard stared the Italian down until Lucio resumed his seat.

“I will tell you, my son, the point and the point is this: Sir Ramsay or whatever you choose to call him is not afraid of the god of this mountain because he has come home. You may know the god by his name of old, Yaldabaoth, sometimes referred to as Samael by his mother, but do you know his son, Sabaoth whom we have so recently banished? Do you know his other sons? Sambathas? Yao? Oraios? Astaphaios?”

“Stop!” Lucio was on his feet again. He had heard this before. From Mark Andrew himself.

“Why stop? Why stop now, Lucio?” Edgard asked him quietly and Lucio was stunned. The Grand Master had never called him by his first name.

“Because.” Lucio looked down at the table. “I don’t think it is necessary to go on. That’s all.” The Golden Eagle looked up again and then smiled at the Master. “It is no matter. What happens here today is the will of God. It is as King Ramsay put it so nicely,” he turned to Luke Matthew. “What was that you said? If the breath of God burns us, then perhaps the flood will come and put us out?”

Luke smiled and nodded slightly and then steepled his fingers in front of his face.

“Take the vote.” Louis Champlain slammed one gloved hand on the table. “By right of my Holy Blood and by right of the lineage of the House of David, I demand a vote. If I am truly Ruler of the Holy Roman Empire as I was anointed in Rome, then I say: Enough talk. Vote. King Ramsay and I will abstain. The Master will abstain to avoid a tie.”

A chorus of ayes went up and then an eerie silence fell in the tent as they waited for the Master to speak.

“Vote, then.”

Edgard turned and waved to his new aide-de-camp, one of Corrigan’s pretty Tuathan soldiers, and the lovely creature, which could very well have been a female, produced the worn box with the canister full of black and white balls.

“White, we open. Black, we leave it,” Sir Barry announced as the aide passed out the black and white balls, one of each color to the eleven Knights of the Council.

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

Nicole raised the golden sword over her head and her face to the black clouds roiling above the circle. Her blonde hair hung in soaked, dripping tendrils about her bloodied face as she called out to the powers to assist her.

“
O ye Spirits, ye I conjure by the Power, Wisdom, and Virtue of the Spirit of God, by the uncreate Divine Knowledge, by the vast Mercy of God, by the Strength of God, by the Greatness of God, by the Unity of God; and by the Holy Name of God, which is the root, trunk, source, and origin of all the other Divine Names, whence they all draw their life and their virtue, which Adam having invoked, he acquired the knowledge of all created things
.”

The unfamiliar words poured from her mouth in desperation. Mark lay at her feet, curled into a tight ball, shivering and clutching his knees to his chest, unresponsive to her shouts. His eyes were open, but there was no comprehension in
them, and he stared blankly through the rain. Nicole had no idea what he had done to himself. She recognized the circle and the censor. All these things were familiar to her on some level she had never understood. Now she followed what could only be called intuition as she fought to gain control of the circle. On her way into the protective shell, she had encountered unseen forces that slapped at her and clawed her and tore at her poncho until she had finally relinquished it in a final lunge to achieve the safety of the protective circle. The rain continued, soaking her to the core and making her voice quiver with cold, and she could barely keep her teeth from chattering.

“
I conjure ye by the Indivisible Name Iod, which marketh and expresseth the Simplicity and the Unity of the Nature Divine, which Abel having invoked, he deserved to escape from the hands of Cain his brother. I conjure ye by the Name Tetragrammaton Elohim, which expresseth and signifieth the Grandeur of so lofty a Majesty, that Noah having pronounced it, saved himself, and protected himself with his whole household from the Waters of the Deluge. I command thee, by the fourth name of the power of Lord Marduk,
Barshak
, whose word is Baeludru. I command thee to appear at this Holy Circle in the name of the Supreme Lord and Master of all Creation
.”

Nicole slammed the sword’s point into the ground and shrieked as a bolt of blue lightning struck the ground precisely north of the rock marking the northern Cardinal point. Electricity danced into the circle, wrapped around the sword and traveled up the length of the blade to the hilt and up her arms to her shoulders. Instead of burning and hurting, the energy brought a sudden rush of warmth and well-being such as she had never known. She looked at her palms in wonder and then shrieked again as a deep voice, echoing the rumble of the thunder addressed her from just outside the circle.

“What is the nature of your distress, Mistress of Darkness?”

She jerked her head up and stumbled over Mark before catching her balance.

“Barshak, I presume?” She asked with more confidence than she felt.

“That is what some call me.” The apparition swayed and shimmered, formless, nothing more than a gray shadow in the rain.

“Come out so I may see you.” Nicole put her hands on her hips and tried to assume a commanding posture.

“As you wish, my beautiful evil.”

The form solidified and she was looking at a singularly odd creature. He was extremely tall and thin, dressed in a suit of peculiar plated armor, dull gray in color, resembling the hide of the strange animals she had seen dead on the roadside outside of Dallas. Armadillos. She almost smiled at the weird thought. His face was very long as was his nose. The eyes were small and deep-set, glowing yellow and a long, wispy beard and thin mustache of white adorned his upper lip and chin.

“Why do you call me evil? You are the servant of Lord Marduk. Do you only serve evil?” She asked it.

“You accuse my master of evil? You do not know Lord Marduk’s benevolence, my pretty sorceress. It is obvious that you are evil or else you would not dare call upon the names of Marduk for selfish purpose.”

“Who are you calling selfish?” Nicole was losing her composure quite quickly. This fellow’s arrogant condescension was grating on her last nerve. She didn’t have time for this.

“You presume to tell me you called me here out of altruism? Love for your neighbor? A sense of duty to your kind? You make me laugh.”

“I thought you were supposed to be the most benevolent and caring of Lord Marduk’s soldiers. Are you not a healer? Can you not forget your pride and help one in need?”

“What do you need, my lady of the night?” He turned his head a bit and seemed to leer at her.

“My father is in need.” Nicole knelt beside Mark Andrew and touched his shoulder tenderly. “Papa? Can you hear me? Daddy? It’s me, your baby girl. Remember? Nicole?”

She looked up at the spirit. Mark remained immobile.

“Can you help him?”

“I cannot reach him. You have barred me from your presence as if it were I was the problem.” It held out both hands. The fingers were long and gray, covered with numerous rings.

“Is it pay you want?” She eyed the rings suspiciously.

“I take whatever you feel your request is worth.”

“Then you may take all of my jewelry.” Nicole looked down at her own hands. She wore the ring that Lucio had given her at their wedding. She had never taken it off. He had never noticed. She shrugged, pulled off the diamond encrusted concoction and tossed it through the air. The spirit caught it easily and then examined it closely before slipping it on one finger.