Messiah: The First Judgement (Chronicles of Brothers) (28 page)

Tears welled up unheeded in Aretas’ eyes. ‘You ... you saw it, then...’ he stumbled, his eyes pleading with Jotapa.

Tears streamed down Jotapa’s cheeks. ‘His flesh is healed, Papa, as clear and smooth as a newborn babe’s. Your son, beloved of your soul, is whole and free and has peace in his soul.’

Aretas looked, speechless, from Jotapa to Ayeshe and then to Duza. Deeply moved.

‘His fingers are grown and strong again, Your Majesty.’ Duza’s voice was clear. ‘Word travels in Jerusalem that he writes ... for the Hebrew, as His scribe.’

Aretas walked to the great window and gazed out towards the Royal Hunting Grounds. He stared for a long while at the lions that prowled across the exotic grasslands.

‘He is not safe there. The stories of these followers of the Hebrew circulate even to Arabia. The Hebrew has powerful enemies: the Pharisees, the Sanhedrin ... the Romans. They all fear His sway and authority over the masses, and now Zahi is one of them – a...’ He could not bring himself to say the word.

He turned from the window. ‘He is a ... follower of the Hebrew. Is this true?’

‘Yes, Father, Zahi has become a follower.’

‘It will bode ill for Zahi – my soul feels it.’ He sighed deeply, then bent down and picked up the cross from the floor.‘Then so be it. I, Aretas, sovereign ruler of Petra and Arabia, bestow my blessing on Crown Prince Zahi. May his ways prosper and his soul find peace.’

He turned to Duza. ‘Duza, your king commands you. Go to Jerusalem. Seek out my blessed son and bind yourself to him, day and night. Serve Zahi, fruit of my loins, fruit of all Arabia. This is your solemn duty.’

And he replaced the Hebrew’s cross upon the altar.

* * *

Charsoc sat on a throne of ivory horn in the Catacombs of Ichabod. Green vapours snaked up from the monstrous warlock cauldrons of bubbling hemlock and hellbroth, potions of bladderwrack and deadly nightshade brewing on the towering garnet altar opposite the throne. Numerous cankerworm slithered between the thousand black tapers of belladonna spluttering on the altar, behind which hung the huge magenta veil that led to Perdition’s second Unholy of Holies, governed by the dreaded high priests of the fallen – the Warlock Kings of the West.

‘Enter, high priests of the fallen,’ Charsoc cried.

The magenta veil fluttered, then the thirteen Warlock Kings of the West materialized in front of the altar. They stood, ten feet in height, their pale green parchment-like skin glowed with a luminous sheen. Their noses were hooked, their hunched backs covered by long black capes, their jet black hair was poker straight and fell past their waists, their heads were crowned with pointed black hats entwined with living serpents.

‘Jether and the elders of Yehovah are gathered?’ Charsoc asked.

Dracul, ancient ruler of the Warlock Kings, bowed deeply before Charsoc. His beady amber cat-like eyes glittered from his long bony countenance ‘The Black Murmurers advise us they assemble as we speak, O master. In the labyrinths of the seventh spire,’ he rasped, green sulphur issuing from his pale purple lips.

‘This day we uncover their scheming,’ Charsoc declared. ‘Yehovah’s powers are formidable. We need our strongest magic.’

‘The seventh chamber is impenetrable,’ Ishtar hissed.

Dracul nodded. ‘Even our combined sorceries are inadequate to penetrate the seventh spire.’

‘But this is!’ Charsoc removed a silver amulet from his robes and held it up. The Warlock Kings fell back as one, clutching their temples in agony. Charsoc replaced it swiftly in its amulet. ‘The stone of fire from the sixth chamber. My former abode.’ He lowered his voice. ‘The sixth stone. Its flame is dying. Near extinguished. It cannot exist in our kingdom of the fallen. But its power will strengthen as we draw nearer the labyrinths. We will use it for one final assault upon their assembly.’

And what of Jether?’ Dracul leered.

‘Jether’s powers fade,’ Charsoc hissed. ‘His magic grows weak.’ He rose, holding his staff high above his head. ‘
I
will deal with Jether.’

Chapter Twenty-seven

Galilee

Jesus gazed across the Sea of Galilee, its deep mercurial blue waters glistening in the fading sun. He glanced down at a tiny girl, no more than three years of age, who sat on His lap. She clutched Him tightly around the waist, her head buried in His chest so that only two long untidy curling braids were visible, tied with scarlet ribbons. Surrounding Him in a semicircle on the white sand were at least nineteen children between the ages of two and fifteen. Six boys, aged around twelve years of age, sat cross-legged on the rocks opposite Him, greedily devouring mounds of roasted fish, fresh from the nets and stuffing great handfuls of dates into their mouths, totally engrossed in their feast. Jesus watched them in enjoyment. Three older youths griddled sardines on the open fires.

The small girl with the scarlet ribbons raised her head, sucking her thumb. She looked up at Jesus lovingly and sighed, then deliberately removed her thumb from her mouth. ‘Jesus,’ she lisped, ‘Rubied Door...’ Then she buried her head back deep into Jesus’ robes.

An unnatural stillness fell. Even the greedy devourers stopped eating their fish and wiped their oily mouths with their sleeves, waiting for Jesus to speak. His eyes grew distant. Remembering. ‘Far away from Galilee, far beyond the moon,’ His voice was hushed, ‘lies the kingdom of the First Heaven.’

A twelve-year-old boy frowned, ‘Why can’t we see it, then, Master?’ He shook his tight black curls, which fell over his eyes, veiling the mischief hidden there. He was joined in soft laughter by his some of his peers. Jesus sighed long sufferingly.

‘Reuben, must I teach you a refresher course on physics?’ The boys erupted into raucous laughter, this time at the scowling Reuben’s expense. Jesus looked over to a fifteen-year-old youth with even tighter black curls and a straggling black growth of beard, who was busy griddling fish. ‘Stephen, teach your brother his lessons.’

Stephen looked over at Reuben through his curls, then spoke.‘The fall of man made fundamental changes in certain laws of physics and biology.’ Stephen left his fish and stood proudly on the sand, gesturing with a stick. ‘The nature of
subjective
time has changed since creation. The First Heaven is governed by a different set of physical laws. Here in Galilee we are contained or limited to a “one-dimensional” time frame, so we cannot walk through walls or on water.’

Jesus nodded in approval. ‘Jesus walks on water,’ Rebecca lisped, then ducked her head back into Jesus’ robe. Jesus stroked her head tenderly. Stephen continued. ‘Jesus, being from the First Heaven, enjoys a multidimensional quality of time. Yehovah is bound by neither time nor space, for He existed
before
the universe was, before the creation of space or matter or time. Just because you cannot see another dimension with your eyes doesn’t mean that it isn’t there. That is just plain ignorance. And ignorance is
sad
,’ Stephen stressed contemptuously, nodding in Reuben’s direction. The fiery Reuben scowled, darting towards him like lightning and punched him in the arm.

‘Know-all!’ he muttered.

‘Boys, boys,’ said Jesus, shaking His head. ‘Have you learned
nothing
of the principles of the First Heaven? Love your neighbour as yourself –
especially
your brother, Reuben.’ Jesus frowned at Reuben, but His eyes twinkled. Reuben’s face creased into a sheepish grin. ‘Well enough, Jesus, I’ll learn my lessons.’

‘Tell us the tale, Jesus!’ a lively four-year-old exclaimed. ‘Of the great war in heaven.’

‘Again, Judah?’ Jesus sighed. ‘Long ago, Judah, before this world as you know it, and billions of years before Galilee was created, a great angel existed, one of three great princes of heaven: the Light-Bearer.’

The younger children clung to Jesus’ every word, while the older ones soon grew more interested in their feast of fish and dates. ‘He was filled with wisdom, perfect in his beauty. But the great King longed for companionship. So he decided to create a new race, the Race of Men, from his own DNA. But the Light-Bearer grew jealous of the idea of the Race of Men and launched an insurrection – a war – against the great King.’

‘I don’t like him,’ a small voice shrilled.

‘What was his name?’ a second voice piped up.

‘Sataneal,’ Reuben whispered to another in a hushed undertone. ‘He was
bad
...’

The twelve-year-olds dropped the remains of their fish on the sand, now captivated.

Jesus looked at them out of the corner of His eye.

‘Was there a great battle?’ one asked.

Jesus nodded. ‘I saw Satan fall like lightning,’ He spoke softly.

The older boys stared at Him in admiration.

‘He and his renegade third were banished ... he came immediately to tempt the Race of Men away from God. And in this he met great success. And so the title deeds that the great King had entrusted to the Race of Men now legally belonged to Lucifer, who was made their sovereign king.’

‘Oh, no! He is king of the
world
!’ shrilled a ruddy-faced five-year-old in horror.

‘Is he king of Galilee?’

The smaller children huddled together in alarm, their eyes wide.

Another child, a little older, frowned at them. ‘You’re with Jesus, scaredy-cat – He casts the demons out. Lucifer’s scared of Him because He’s the great King’s Son!’

Two of the small children stuck their tongue out at the eight-year-old.

Jesus went on, ‘The great King loved the Race of Men passionately. He was not prepared to lose them for eternity. So He decided He must leave the First Heaven and be born as one of the Race of Men.’

‘And get back the title deeds,’ Judah declared.

Jesus raised His eyebrows. ‘
Excellent
, Judah!’

Judah stood to his full three feet, hands on hips. He brandished a stick, then shook his unruly red curls. ‘Who will fight Sataneal?’ he cried.

Jesus placed Rebecca gently down on the sand and rose to His feet. He walked over to the edge of the shore of Galilee, His sunstreaked hair blew away from His handsome, noble face. He stared out at the last rays of dusk sun that fell across the lake casting their mysterious shifting shadows on the water.

‘I will fight Sataneal, Judah.’ His voice was very soft. ‘At a place called Golgotha. The war between the First Heaven and the kingdom of darkness will be waged.’ He turned to the children, who stared up at Him in wonder, then turned back to the horizon, His eyes blazing with fervour. ‘The war of the First Judgement.’

Chapter Twenty-eight

Mandragora

The incantations of the Warlock Kings of the West grew in intensity, their darkening wings suddenly visible. In an instant, Charsoc and the entire Warlock coven vanished, spinning through the catacombs on their broomsticks, accompanied by Dracul’s demon harpies to the lower boundaries of the time corridors where a pack of snarling wort devourers waited. Their escort.

Charsoc signalled and he and the Warlock Kings ascended into the time corridors, their black hair and robes flying, veering left, then right, through the winding time passages, beneath oceans, through spiral galaxies and interstellar clouds, diving downwards into super massive black holes, then upwards gyrating at the speed of light through multiple star systems until gradually the first glimmering outline of the First Heaven’s magnificent horizons materialized.

The coven hovered before the twelve pale blue moons that were now rising from the Eastern horizon, observing the shifting hues of the First Heaven’s horizons as the lilacs transformed to amethysts and then to a deep indigo.

Charsoc opened the silver amulet around his neck. The stone of fire was cold and grey, barely flickering. He waited until the stone finally began to blaze faintly with an orange fire.

He turned to address the Warlock Kings.

‘Unprotected, the effects of Yehovah’s presence on Warlocks will at best asphyxiate us, at worst destroy us and deliver our souls screaming to the Abyss. The only antidote is thus: each one of you must hold the stone and willingly embrace its power.’

Dracul and the Warlock Kings drew back as one. ‘Its power is not yet strong enough to destroy you.’ Charsoc removed the stone from the amulet with his gloved hand. ‘but it
is
strong enough to immunize us for a brief time against the consuming fire.’ He frowned. ‘But I warn you, when it wears off, we have no defence.’

He removed his glove and clasped the stone with his bony fingers in triumph. ‘It will also render us invisible.’ His face contorted in agonized pain, his entire body shook violently as the fierce orange lightnings coursed through his limbs. Then the lightnings stopped. He thrust the stone to Dracul, who grasped it, at once uttering a tortured scream. Dracul’s limbs shook uncontrollably. Swiftly the Warlock Kings thrust the stone from one to another, drawing off its power.

‘We arrive uninvited.’