Authors: Brendan Carroll
“You are worried about your father?” Meredith asked her.
“Not worried exactly. Just sad that Thaddeus and Louis and all of them are so far away and we may never see them in this lifetime again.”
“That’s a terrible thought,” Merry frowned. The same thoughts had plagued her day and night. “Let’s change the subject. Tell me, do you know if Sophia and Mark happened to go… to come back by… I mean, have they been to St. Patrick’s Island lately?”
“No, I don’t think so. It is my understanding they were brought directly here by the elves after the battle at Armageddon…” Oriel’s voice trailed off and then her cherubic face lit up. “I have an idea!”
“Oh?” Meredith raised both eyebrows. Her body guards would be furious when they found her missing from the house. If they didn’t get back soon, a national crisis would erupt and Oriel’s escorts would be frantic as well.
“King Il Dolce Mio! I’ll bet he could give us news from the east.”
“But he’s not here. No one has seen him.”
“And so… we should pay a visit to him.”
“Go to the underworld? Not very advisable. You know every visit is a disaster…” she stopped suddenly as she realized that Captain Galipoli was staring at her. “I wish Lucio was here.”
“Lucio?” Oriel’s beautiful face crumpled into a frown.
“I meant to say Luke.”
Again, Meredith found herself in a quandary. She looked for Nicole and Sophia amongst the small crowd in the chapel. Oriel’s idea was dangerous, and she knew very well that the Queen of the Franks could be quite pig-headed, if she set her mind on something. Perhaps she could learn more about Mark if she befriended Nicole, but Nicole seemed to loathe her presence. The feeling was mutual, but necessity certainly made strange bedfellows or was that necessity was the mother of contentions? Whatever.
“Nicole!” Merry smiled and went after the
daughter of darkness
. “A word with you, please.”
Nicole had her arm hooked in the Captain’s arm. His dark eyes never left her face as she walked toward them. Nicole frowned, at first and then raised one eyebrow.
“Meredith.” Mark’s daughter’s eyes were the same shade of blue as his, but the mischief here did not compare to his. It was much more malicious.
“Please, call me Merry. We are, after all, family.” Merry stuck out one hand to the dark-eyed, somber-faced Captain. “Sir. I don’t believe we have been introduced. I’m Merry Ramsay, Nicole’s aunt.”
A flicker of a smile crossed his dark face, and then he smiled and came to attention, saluting her smartly rather than taking her hand.
“Captain Socrates Galipoli at your service, your Highness,” he rolled off the words crisply. “It is an honor to meet you, my Queen. I have heard many wonderful things about you and your humanitarian efforts in London. Most impressive. Admirable. You deserve the love of your subjects as none other before you. I take it,
Madam, Nicole’s father is your brother-in-law then? A wonderful fellow. Highly respected among the Fox.”
“Goodness!” Merry blinked and then turned pink. She’d not been praised in such a sincere manner by a foreigner in ages. “Galipoli. Is that Greek? I have heard that Greece is hardly touched by the wars. I would like to visit your country one day.”
“It is a beautiful country. I used to go there quite often when I was younger,” Nicole seemed shocked at her Captain’s address to the Queen. Almost jealous, it seemed.
“My country is the most wonderful place in the entire world,” he said without smiling. “I would say that her only failing may lie in not having a Queen such as yourself to make her perfect.”
“You are too kind, Captain,” Merry could not tear her eyes away from his. A tiny shiver ran up her spine and she locked eyes with Nicole. The amusement was gone and it was like looking into the
Chevalier du Morte’s
face ringed with her own golden curls. Nicole was not happy.
“Nicole, can we talk in private?” Merry asked before her resolve faded.
“Of course, sugar,” Nicole mocked her Texas drawl just a bit. “Excuse me, Socrates. I’ll only be a moment.”
“Take your time, sugar,” Socrates imitated Nicole’s imitation and smiled at her and his face changed again before she walked away with Merry.
The Captain’s entire demeanor had changed. He had been insisting that she do something with her father only a few minutes earlier, suggesting he and his men actually tackle him and restrain him, suggesting she create a diversion for them, suggesting Mark had lost his senses, but after only two glasses of wine, he seemed content to remain in the chapel indefinitely as if it were some sort of societal gala mixer. As for his interest in Merry, it was obvious he was fascinated by the Queen of Briton simply because she looked almost exactly like herself. Only the eye color was slightly different and the shape of their faces. Nicole was now quite proud of the fact she looked more like Mark than her brother did and, as she walked away, she glanced at Sophia, and wondered what would happen if she dyed her hair black and straightened the curls. Would she look even more like Mark Andrew than Luke Andrew, perhaps? Surely she would look much more like her beloved father with straight black hair, and less like the Queen of the Brits. Another of her wicked little smiles crossed her face at the thought how surprised everyone would be.
Chapter
Nine of Seventeen
But with an overrunning flood he will make an utter
end of the place thereof
“It is better, my Queen,” Abaddon asked the ‘woman’ sitting in the center of the circle and then helped her up. She stood frowning at the carpet in front of her feet as she felt of her throat and neck. The head was firmly attached and the withered skin was once again fresh smooth flesh. Only the gash across her throat remained a terrible scar with ragged red edges.
“I can see your magick still leaves much to be desired, General,” she said slowly and then took the mirror he offered her. “This will never do.” She handed the mirror back to him. “I cannot go about with this hideous wound on my throat.”
“The healer has great talent, I am told.” Abaddon bowed his head to her. “I am sorry I have failed you, your Highness. I beg your forgiveness, but do not give up hope, my lady. Your beauty is still very great…” he faltered as another explosion rocked the shelter in which they stood. She seemed entirely unconcerned with the siege of the city over their heads. “I am honored by your trust and your attentions. Please allow me to bring the healer to you. If he displeases you, you may kill him for your own amusement.”
“Hmmm.” Her answer was ambiguous to say the least. She took the mirror from him again and looked at the wound once more before moving very close to him.
The General stood very still as she laid her head on his chest. He could smell the fragrance of her dark curls. Brimstone and frankincense. A familiar, yet terrifying, combination. Whatever she had been doing with the skull had given her complete confidence. She no longer asked after Jozsef Daniel, and she seemed preoccupied with her own desires. The soldiers had finally abandoned them entirely. None remained in the underground retreat other than him. He was alone with the Queen Mother and their hapless Tuathan prisoner.
“Do we have to do it right now?” She asked him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I’m tired and lonely, Abaddon. Surely you must know something of the more subtle natures of this form. Do you not ever desire the company of women?”
“I have heard it said…” He kissed the top of her head and forcibly stilled his heart “…that
the company of women is a dangerous thing
.”
“Dangerous?” She raised her head and looked up at him. “That is an odd thing to say. Who said that?”
“
Many a good man has lost his way to Paradise on account of women
, your Highness. It is a well known fact among men the desires of the heart are not necessarily conducive to success on higher levels of consciousness. I, for one, have kept myself occupied with the service of my masters. Women tend to need a great deal of time and attention. My occupation has never left much of either to spare. I have had occasion to look from time to time, but I have never touched. It keeps my spirit free, and I am able to devote my energies fully to the job at hand,” he chose every word very carefully. It was his only hope to impress upon her that he would much rather serve her in a professional rather than personal manner.
“Ahhh, I see,” she nodded and laid her head back on his chest. “Then think of it as part of your job and devote all of your energies to pleasing me for a few hours.”
“But the healer…” he objected. “He may be killed in these continuing blasts. If they get lucky, they may obliterate his cell and him with it. Perhaps we should make use of him, and then flee this place… together.”
“Flee?” She laughed. “I have no need to flee. The healer can wait, and if he is destroyed, it is no matter. I will not be wearing this form much longer.”
Abaddon struggled to maintain his composure as she led him toward her bedroom. Another explosion buffeted the earth above them, and gray powder sifted down on their heads and the Dark Angel felt his spirit hovering very close to the end of the tenuous tether holding him to Ernst Schweikert’s body.
(((((((((((((
“I cannot believe you are going to leave us here,” Lucio whispered, but his voice echoed in the cavernous enclosure. The ship or boat, more like wooden box, was enormous. Bigger on the inside than the outside somehow. All of the Bedu, all of the soldiers, the animals and a tremendous amount of larder had been taken aboard the vessel.
“The workmanship looks reliable enough,” Mark Andrew mused as
the looked about the interior of the ship in wonder. “There is magick at work here. I smell the Djinni all over it. He has taken great pleasure in making use of my library and the descriptions of Noah’s ark. He could have just transported these people to a safe haven without these theatrics”
“He has a flair for the dramatic,
si
`, I know, but I have magick of my own,” Lucio complained. “I need to get home and see to the others. Catharine and the d’Ornans on the islands. They deserve something surely.”
“There is no time; you would not make it home even as the crow flies in time to change anything now. It is as you are so fond of saying, Brother, the will of God. You never expected to see the Sphinx come to life, did you? You must admit, you didn’t expect to see this ark here, did you? You expected to die on Mt. Sinai, did you not?”
“No and I never expected you to be…” Lucio began, and then turned away from him. “Never mind. You are right, as usual. But if I am to be destroyed, I would rather be with Catharine and if not Catharine, then I should bother you to the end. I should never have left her.”
“Lucio.” Mark Andrew took hold of Lucio’s arm. “You don’t have time. It’s too late. If you need to blame someone, blame me. I should have come sooner and made Simon get on with it.”
Lucio sighed and his shoulders drooped. He knew Mark was right, and he also knew it was not Mark’s fault. He knew from experience, he and Mark Andrew were always blamed for everything bad that had ever happened to the Order and half of everything bad that had ever happened on earth. Mark Andrew had even taken the blame for a great deal of Lucio’s own personal failings. It was not fair. It had never been fair and it would never be fair. The only thing keeping him going now was the hope Catharine would find him in the Halls of Amenti. He knew he would recognize her soul immediately. It couldn’t be over. It was too soon. He had only just returned from the presence of the Dark Lord. Surely his mission could not be over so soon?
Konrad walked toward them between the carefully stacked bundles of grass and wood, which served as bedding material, fodder for the animals and firewood for the cook fires.
“The hull seems watertight. Only time will tell.” The Knight of the Apocalypse announced when he stopped beside them. “It is amazing what these people have brought with them. Everything necessary to start completely over. That is, of course, if you are of a mind to live as a simple Bedu herdsman. I doubt there will be many job openings for computer analysts after the flood.”
“We may get lucky,” Lucio smiled slightly. “We may
all
perish and rightly so.”
“Ahhh. That would be a stroke of luck, indeed,” Konrad agreed and looked up at the vaulted ceiling over head. The light from outside entered through hundreds of rectangular openings just under the upper deck. Rough stairs slanted up the sides of the boat to the upper level where there were individual compartments for the human occupants. The Bedouins would live up there while the rest of them camped out on the gently sloping ‘floor’. Hundreds of ropes held cargo slings full of goods suspended at varying heights in the interior. Among the bundles of household items and food were wooden cages full of birds and fowl and few of the smaller animals native to this part of the world. “We will have to avoid sleeping under the birds,” Konrad laughed and walked away from them without waiting for replies.
“Pigeons,” Lucio shook his head. “I still don’t understand why you have to leave, Brother. Frankly, I am sick of it. If you aren’t going to stay here, then neither am I.”