“You’re right,” said Raphael. “I don’t understand.”
Yeshuah nodded, then buried his face in his hands. Raphael sat there unmoving, her face etched in stone. Then he lifted his head up and spoke softly, almost whispering.
“I am Heaven. I am a product of my father, and of all those who gave their love so that I might live. I feel this rage, because what they are trying to do is destructive to all I love—even them.”
Raphael shook her head. “Do you believe that? About all of those angels ‘giving their love’? It was a trick, and you know it, to draw the hosts together and crush those who oppose us. What’s destructive to Satan and those around him is the force that your ‘father’ is sending against them—to find Satan, did I hear? And if they find him, and he is destroyed, that’s ‘so it will be’? This is the love you’re speaking of? If I didn’t believe in the Plan with all my heart, I would have joined them long ago.”
“No,” said Yeshuah,
“it wasn’t a trick. It was suggested as a trick, and sometimes my Father thinks it was a trick, but it wasn’t. It was love. I know, because it created me. Do you know what that means? I’m different from the rest of you, but you don’t understand how I’m different. The rest of you were created by acts of violence. I was created by an act of love.
“Please, Raphael, don’t turn from me. I know why you want to. You think of me as a fraud, because I can’t help my rage and because you have more love in you than anyone else I know, and hate sickens you. But try to forgive me—I can’t help it.
“I guess that’s all I can say.”
Raphael sat with her head bowed. Then she looked at him as if trying to see through his eyes.
“I’ll try,” she said at last. “I’ll think about it. That’s all I can do.”
She rose and walked away.
“Raphael?”
She stopped and without looking back said, “Yes?”
“I forgive you,” said Yeshuah.
She clasped her elbows and hugged herself, then relaxed. She left.
Yeshuah put his face into his hands and sobbed.
Mephistopheles made his way back south, moving as quickly as he could. Speed was vital now, because he had no idea how much of a lead they had. He knew they had a lead, because he was still following their trail.
In a little while, he would risk certainty of their destination—in a little while, but not yet. To err, to pass them up and go to the wrong place would be disaster. He had to stay with them until he was sure he knew where they were going, then get ahead of them and arrive at their destination with enough of a lead to give the necessary warning.
It would certainly be close. And it would be tiring—he had days ahead of him, and there would be precious little time to rest, if he could judge by how they were traveling now.
Well, it could be worse—he could have no chance of giving warning. But that, of course, hadn’t been an accident. Mephistopheles had known full well he might find out something useful when he had followed Yeshuah and Raphael into the woods.
“Did you see them, Sith?”
“Yes, Kyriel. What of it?” “I have an idea of where they’re going.”
“So?”
“Uh, Sith, you haven’t seemed interested in much since—well, since we left. Are you regretting it?”
“No . . . no, I’m not regretting it. It’s more that I don’t know what to do.”
“I know. That’s why I mentioned that army that Michael was leading. I’ll bet they’re going after Satan. We could follow and join Satan if we wanted to.”
“So what? Satan isn’t doing anything. You heard him talking as well as I did. What is he doing about anything? He just stood there while they—it doesn’t matter.”
“Sith, he’s all we have.”
“Well if he’s—oh, I don’t know. All right, I guess we can follow them. Why not?”
“There’s something else we could do.”
“What?”
“Well, we could go find Bath Kol. I’ll bet that’d cheer you up.”
“No, I’m afraid we can’t.”
“Oh?”
“She was at the Southern Hold. I saw her. She didn’t live through it.”
Raphael into the woods.
Finally, after nearly four days, they caught up with him in a narrow valley, and they yelled. He heard the echoes, stopped, and looked back.
They ran up to him, nearly exhausted.
“We’ve been following you,” gasped Lucifer, “since you left the— since you set out.”
Satan didn’t reply. Beelzebub studied the three of them closely. There was silence while they recovered their breath.
“I hope,” said Lilith, “that you’re proud of that speech. You managed to—”
“Shut up, Lilith,” said Satan.
Lucifer took a step forward. Beelzebub growled. Satan ignored them both.
“I don’t care to discuss it.”
“Then,” said Asmodai, “why don’t we discuss what we’re going to do now? And I mean we. You’re with us whether you want to be or not. We aim to oppose Yaweh. If you won’t take a side in this, you’ll be crushed. That is just how it is. Will you discuss that?”
“Yes,” said Satan slowly. “Yes, I’ll discuss that. I’ll discuss it to say that I am not now or ever going to join you, and if you are counting on me to, you will be disappointed.” His voice remained low, but began to grow in intensity. His words were clipped, as if he were working to control his rage.
“I’m not joining you,” he repeated. “However, you may join me, if you wish. I’ll offer you that for what you’ve done. I’ll forgive you for setting off a chain of events that led to the destruction of my home. I’ll place the blame on Yaweh’s shoulders, and I’ll allow you to join me. That is what I can do.”
The three of them looked at each other. Satan continued.
“I will take twenty days, then, to gather me an army. And then that army will march for another twenty days until we are at the Palace of Yaweh, and I will treat his home as he has caused mine to be treated, and I will treat him as he wished to treat me.
“You asked me, Lilith, what I think of what I said before? I think that I willingly chose to bend my knee to Yaweh, and I’ll not do so again.”
“And the Plan?” said Lilith. “What of it?”
“I’ll decide that afterwards. But if I find I must commit this evil to prevent greater evil, I’ll at least not pretend it’s a good.
“Well? Will you join me?”
“I,” said Lilith, “will gladly join you, Lord Satan.”
“And I,” said Lucifer.
“I also,” said Asmodai.
“Good. Then the Lord Yaweh and his ‘King Anointed’ may begin counting their days.”
Lucifer smiled. “May he enjoy his reign. It will last forty days and forty nights.”
“Methinks that hath a pleasant sound,” said Beelzebub.
FOURTEEN
‘O father, what intends thy hand,’ she cried,
‘Against thy only son? What fury, O son,
Possesses thee to bend that mortal dart
Against thy father’s head? And know’st for whom?
For Him who sits above, and laughs the while
At thee, ordained his drudge to execute
Whate’er his wrath, which He calls justice, bids—
His wrath, which one day will destroy ye both!’
—Milton, Paradise Lost, 11:727-734
“What are you doing here?”
“Oh. Good evening, Lilith, I’m just out walking, I needed to think. What about you?”
The campfire was a ways off, and the darkness of Heaven’s night was almost complete, but Satan could see her teeth as she said, “I guess I wanted to keep you from thinking.”
He chuckled. “That may not be a bad idea.”
“What were you thinking about?”
“Oddly enough,” he said, “you.”
He heard her coming cl
oser. “What about me?”
“Lilith,” he said slowly, “do you know what it did to me when you left?”
“No, and I don’t want to.”
“All right.”
They stood near each other for a while longer, then he began to walk further from the fire.
“Satan. . . .”
He stopped. “Yes?”
“What did it do to you when I left?”
He turned and came back. When he was close, he said, “You were right not to want to know. I shouldn’t have brought it up. You did what you had to, and it’s over now, anyway.”
This time it was Lilith who chuckled. “I’ve never heard anyone say that before, but it still sounds trite.”
“How long have you and Lucifer been together?”
“I don’t know. A thousand days? Two thousand?”
“A long time.”
“Yes.”
“I barely lasted three hundred.”
“Satan, I—it was different.”
“I know. I pushed you. I shouldn’t have. I didn’t think it through.”
“And so now you spend all of your time thinking, instead of making up your mind—”
“No, not anymore. That’s over. Now I get an idea and I act on it, just like before.”
“Good. I think—”
Before she could say anything more, his arms were around her, and his mouth had covered hers.
A long time later she said, “I think there are advantages to both systems. I’d like to sleep now.”
“All right.”
He moved a little so she could rest her head on his chest, his arm around her shoulders. It was a toss-up which one fell asleep first.
“Lilith?”
“Methinks she is well, Lord Lucifer.”
He continued looking around the camp in the dawn light, but didn’t see her.
“Where is she, then?”
“The Lord Satan did leave the camp late last night, and Lilith did follow some time later.”
“And they haven’t been back?”
“No, Lord. “ “Hmmm. All right.”
After a moment, he added, “I hope they enjoyed themselves. They can both use it.”
“Thou art wise, Lord Lucifer,” said Beelzebub.
They heard the sounds of heavy boots on hard ground and looked up. Satan reached into the pile of his clothing and found his emerald. Lilith found a rock that fit neatly into the palm of her hand, tested it, and waited.
Mephistopheles appeared before them. He looked Lilith up and down, not appearing to notice the rock in her hand, and the corners of his mouth rose a bit.
Satan said, “You wanted something, dark one?”
Mephistopheles nodded, still smiling slightly and still studying Lilith. “I came before Michael—and a few thousand angels.”
“What?” Satan was on his feet, staring and leaning forward.
“As I said. It seems Yaweh wants you, and he didn’t waste time going after you.”
“How far behind you are they?” asked Lilith.
“Two or three days.”
“By the flux!” said Satan. He put the emerald around his neck and found his pants. Lilith tossed her rock aside, found her gown, and shook it off.
“We’ll have to gather our forces as we go,” she said.
“Yes.” He turned back to Mephistopheles. “How many does he have?”
“A few thousand. Not as many as he’d like.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. After the attack at the Southern Hold there were desertions.”
“Desertions?” Satan finished with his pants and found his jerkin.
“Yes. He is down to four of the Seraphim, eight of the Cherubim, a little more than a hundred Thrones, and—” Mephistopheles shrugged.
“I don’t recognize those names.”
“He’s created Orders, as he calls them, each with a Chief. I don’t really know why.”
“All right.” Satan shook out his cloak, then fastened it on. “Let’s speak to the others.”
Lilith and Mephistopheles followed him to the camp.
Harut woke to pain. There was a burning in his legs, on his back, and on his hands. There was a pressing sensation against his cheek as if tiny knives were being pushed in and out.
He felt a sudden churning in his stomach, then vomited with great wracking heaves that sent jolts of agony up his chest.
He forced himself to turn his head, tried to breathe, and coughed, doubling up and dragging his face through the vomit on the ground.
He forced himself to breathe again, slowly and deeply, and managed not to cough. He repeated the process, then repeated it again.
Then, because he knew how things worked, he forced his aching hands over his body, checking for damage.
His face and neck were fine. His shoulders were okay, too. He avoided contact with his chest.
He carefully touched his hands, each with the other, and noted that all of his fingers were there. His hips were in the right shape, and his legs seemed to be—he stopped.
His legs, both of them, ended just above the knee.
He lay back in his pain and sickness and squeezed his useless eyes tightly shut, and took a few more deep breaths. “I’m alive,” he told himself. “Whatever else, I’m alive.”
He felt some heat then from the direction his head was pointing, which meant that the ruins of the Southern Hold lay in that direction. That meant that the lake was over there.
With palms that seemed to blaze with their own fires each time they touched the ground, he began inching his way toward the water.
Satan surveyed them. He stood before the newly lit fire while they sat on the ground before him. His eyes took in Lucifer, Lilith, and As-modai in turn to make sure they understood, then he continued.
“So it is clear that we must move. We will gather what forces we can as we go. We should leave—at once. We’ll have to circle Michael, so we’ll need time. And as we meet angels, we will tell them what we are about, and they may join us if they wish. Any questions?”
“Yes,” said Lilith. “What if they say ‘no’?”
He shrugged. “What if they do?”
Lilith nodded as if that had been enough of an answer.
“Any other questions?”
There were none. Satan stood before the fire and touched his emerald. The flames died. The others stood, and Satan led them away from the camp.
“Sith?”
“Yes?”
“Why are we here?”
“Where else would you want to be?”
“That isn’t the point. When they hailed us, I thought you were going to run, and then all of a sudden you were going to join them. I don’t understand why.”
“Huh? Sure you do. I wanted to run when I thought these were angels of Lord Yaweh. When I found out—”
“I think you’re here because of Bath Kol.”
“Have it your own way. We’re both here, and we’re going to fight—unless you leave.”
“No, I’m not going to do that.”
“Then that’ll have to be good enough.”
“I guess it will, then.”
Yeshuah turned to Yaweh. “Father, please allow me to—” “No, my son. Not yet.” “But if Michael finds him—”
“Our problems will end. Michael will destroy him. We will be pleased. We will put all of our will power into being pleased. In any reasonable way of looking at it, that is the best thing that could happen. If Michael does not find him, you will lead the hosts into the final battle.”
“But I wish to be the one—”
“No! You are King here, after me. When you make decisions that affect the fate of your subjects, do you think your own pride should be what drives you, or should you concern yourself with the good of all of Heaven?”
“Of course, Father, I should think of the good of Heaven, but—”
“Then stamp out that pride wherever you find it in yourself! You cannot make decisions based on yo
ur own needs for self-satisfaction and also assure the safety of Heaven. Pride is a disease. Cure yourself.”
“Yes, Father. Father?”
“Yes, my son?”
“Could we look upon Satan? To see if he knows, yet?”
“Well, it is some effort . . . but why not? I’m curious too.”
Yaweh’s brows furrowed, and his hands worked in and out of fists. For nearly an hour, scenes appeared and vanished before them. Finally they found him amid a body of angels. Yaweh’s eyes opened wide, and he leaned forward.
Yeshuah gasped. “He’s marching!”
“Yes, and with nearly a hundred angels.”
“Where is he?”
“Nine days’ march from here, and heading toward us.” Yaweh’s voice remained even.
“Where is Michael?”
The scene shifted several times before coming to rest on the host of angels led by Michael. “Following them as fast as they can. Michael is about three days behind, as near as I can tell. Satan must have discovered Michael before Michael discovered him and gone around.”
“By the flux!”
“Don’t swear, Yeshuah.”
“But you have only twelve defenders, Father! What are we going to do?”
For answer, Yaweh turned to the Seraph nearest him and motioned him over. The Seraph bowed.
“You are Nisroc, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Lord.”
“Do you love me, Nisroc?”
Nisroc, a short, dark angel with black hair and a full black beard, dropped to his knees. “Yes, Lord!”
“And do you love my son?”
“I do, Lord!”
“Good. Then rise, Nisroc. Go forth and find as many angels as you can, and give them swords. Hold yourself ready. When Satan is close, I will send you against him, to take or destroy him. Do you understand ? “
“Yes, Lord! I will do it!”
“Good, Nisroc. Now, go!”
“Hail, Lord Yaweh,” said Nisroc, and departed. Yeshuah bit his lip.
“Well, friend Satan, what do you think?”