By James Cowell
1
My awakening
At the very dawn of time God created the angels and as the mists cleared he also created man, not only on Earth but throughout the whole of the material universe. In his loneliness these separate entities offered solace to his being and in return His love for them knew no bounds. However, all was not well! Lucifer, the brightest of the over-lighting angels, in arrogance challenged God's right to reign supreme, that he instead should rule the spiritual universe.
A great war broke out in heaven and on that very first day the seraph Abdiel overcame Ariel, Lucifer's chief lieutenant. The defeat of Lucifer and his rebel angels soon followed and at the battle's conclusion God issued them all with a stern warning: That if there were ever another insurrection their destruction would surely come about. Brought to justice Lucifer was cast out from heaven and across Chaos; condemned to live in a Netherworld that God turns His face from - for it was only fitting that this fallen angel should be the master of these infernal regions. And in another time, in another place, an epic adventure connecting these important events is about to take place.
As a boy of fourteen the exploits of the victorious Greek and Roman armies simply fascinated me. Reading with great gusto as much about them as possible my adventurous spirit longed to have lived in those bygone days, and in the stillness of the night many stirring tales of their conquests flooded my mind; long and hazardous campaigns that invariably resulted in resounding victories over less disciplined opponents. But one character from elsewhere,that had not been recorded by putting pen to parchment, existed only in my dim recollections of some forgotten era, hovering elusively just out of reach in a far off place I knew to be real. Tossing and turning restlessly upon the soft mattress I tried to recall him as I had done so many times before, but always the thought escaped me. I knew this person, having become familiar with him in my dreams. He was there beneath the surface waiting to emerge.
It is said that the universe divides into two; each consisting of billions of planets that are formed by the seven planes of existence, the four lower planes of the material universe and the upper three of the spiritual universe. Hellania, a world on the third plane, somewhat smaller than Earth, was encircled by a large ocean that separated its two continents: Atlantis, a land of mountains, forest, and broad plains, populated by the original Atlanteans from Earth, and two thousand miles across this body of water the land of Arctoris. A dispute took place there between a high ranking mortal and one of Atlantis's angel guardians, which resulted in the death of the Lord Provost of Atlantis. But as the wrongdoer he was reincarnated upon Earth on the lower second plane - a testing ground for humans endeavoring to reach higher realms!
The time. January 1951. The place. Earth.
It began here on a cold winter's evening in the small town of Brunlea, as the last glimpse of day faded behind the distant hills and twilight stole over a landscape of tall factory chimneys. Against the background of a clear night sky everything slowly turned to shadow and the snow-covered roofs of terraced houses glistened brightly in the light of a full moon. Under an array of flickering stars I looked down from the crest of the steep incline upon wrought iron gas lamps bursting into flame in the cobbled streets below, an icy wind biting through my clothing, but as I prepared myself for the sledge ride a feeling of trepidation took hold.
Mam said I'm psychic, noticing many of my predictions were not far off the mark; that I sensed things around me others did not. This was one such moment! I leapt upon the sledge belly down that hurtling forward, whizzing past the houses on either side at an ever increasing pace. Within seconds the bottom loomed close and the metal toes of my clogs bit into the hardened snow bringing the sledge to a halt. Rising to my feet I rubbed my hands bringing warmth into my finger tips; the deep forebodings still haunting me; even the dim yellow lighting from the nearby gas lamp made me uneasy. I decided to go indoors where in the sitting room a large open fire blazed fiercely in a cast iron hearth.
Mam rebuked me. "You're late for tea again Damon. In this house we eat together."
I sensed trouble but as always she relented. At my birth Dad had strongly objected to the uncommon name of Damon, but she had insisted upon it; the mood had taken her and as far as she was concerned, that was that. Whatever hat she had pulled it from was unclear and later, try as she would, she could never think of a good reason for her bizarre choice of names.
On these dark nights I generally stayed home listening to the sound of the crackling wireless, or sometimes buried myself in a good book - but there was always the alternative. So after the evening meal I went into the empty front parlour where two opposing armies of lead soldiers stood in full splendour - line after line of pristine models crying out for action. As a seasoned general I drew up the battle-lines and after a titanic struggle took place many of my soldiers lay dead in a furious battle against the enemy - flipped over to remain horizontal until the end of the conflict. But in marshalling my troops in that dank front room I was unaware of the deep implications involved: some point in the near future my skills as a commanding officer would be greatly needed.
Mam called out my name. "Bedtime, Damon!"
At this critical moment my own lines of soldiers stood firm against an opposition on the brink of defeat "Not yet Mam," I shouted back."
"Now Damon!"
"It's not fair!"
Making my way upstairs I entered a darkened room and crawled under the bedclothes where a clock ticked relentlessly on the small table beside me, pondering upon enigmas whose solutions always stayed out of reach. I felt that I was timeless; but in probing the complexities of my existence I couldn't reach a conclusion as to whether life had any purpose. Snuggling deep into the pillow I thought perhaps religion played a part in all of this. As a Catholic I was taught, in his defeat the Devil had been given precedence over the nether regions, yet he still laid claim to the throne of God in the heavens - that for him an impossible dream. Then I sleepily asked myself: "As God is omnipotent people assume good will finally prevail over evil; that this struggle is really just a formality."
But then I thought. "If the conclusion is ordained - why does this battle take place?"
Hovering between wakefulness and the brink of sleep the door to my subconscious opened wide and the answer came to me: Lucifer can never conquer the Spiritual universe because the throne of God is now unassailable. However, the 'Material Universe' is ready to fall! Was this the small still voice within that the nuns had told me of - if indeed, it was a voice at all?
Drifting into a state of near unconsciousness with the greater questions remaining unsolved, I awoke with a start, sitting upright in a cold sweat. The flickering shadows cast by the gas-lamp outside my window weaving intricate patterns upon my bedroom wall, caught my attention, but the sound of Mam's voice from downstairs reassured me. Yet I remained uneasy, unable to dismiss my apprehension - knowing with absolute certainty something was about to happen. Then it seared into my brain like a hot iron. How could I have ever forgotten who I was?
All of a sudden I rose two feet into the air and lay suspended horizontally above the length of the bed, and then with no conscious effort upon my part became upright in a body without substance. My hands passed through everything they touched and it was only in seeing a replica of myself upon the bed that I knew instinctively I was alive. Shouting out in fear no one seemed to hear. Again I shouted - this time much louder. Mam heard my second cry and rushed upstairs where she found me in a deep sleep - so still I barely appeared to breathe.
"Damon, Wake up, wake up," she called out. But standing at her side as she repeatedly shook the shoulders of my counterpart, I was powerless to do so. Then, other things began to happen.
2
The angel Israfel
'Whoosh,' I was pulled at great speed into a dark tunnel towards a compelling bright light that increased in intensity. All of a sudden the tunnel ended and I found myself in somewhat familiar surroundings. I stood upon the knoll of a hill in a wooded grove of citrus trees with lush grass reaching to my ankles, where a slight breeze carried the strong scents of their fruits and those of many different species of flowers around me. Not far away a stream of crystal clear water splashed and tumbled its way in a series of majestic cascades down to a river that cut through rolling grasslands in the green valley below; and far in the distance dominating the whole scenario was the river's source. Under a slate blue sky I looked across the valley towards a huge mountain with a mist-shrouded forest upon its lower slopes, towering above the plain with a snow-clad peak glistening in reflected sunlight.
Without a doubt I had been here before! Faint memories that struggled to break free told me this place was Atlantis from somewhere in my past; a past now back in the present. Yet I still clearly remembered my place on Earth; my life up until the moment I was taken from my bed. In these strange surroundings I stood taller and heavier in a lithe strong body with a short-cropped beard and shoulder length hair, wearing a metal studded leather tunic covered by a light steel mesh, which dropped below my knees. Muscles rippled upon every visible sinew of my body; a helmet sat upon my head and a curved broadsword hung from my side.
Confused and somewhat alarmed I knelt down at the edge of the stream dousing my face in the still waters, and as I cleared my eyes the familiar image of a man in his prime stared at me. Standing to my feet I stepped back in surprise, catching my arm on a thorn; there was no logic to these happenings so by tightly closing my eyes I would awaken from this dream. However, the scratch showed fresh blood; this place seemed very real. Then the realization hit home! The slightly built teenager from Earth had gone, and here instead stood a fully grown man whom I recognised from another era.
But though I now acknowledged myself in this form the situation had shaken me badly.
It was then that a strong resonant voice boomed out from behind calming my fears, a pleasing sound no musical instrument could compare to - no matter how well played.
"I have been expecting you Damon," the voice said. "Welcome."
Turning around the figure of a man confronted me dressed in the same manner as myself with long hair and a flowing beard; standing tall against the trees with steel mesh covering his upper body and a metal helmet that overhung his neck and enclosed both cheeks. A scabbard upon his waist contained a curved sword similar to my own. But he was something more than just a warrior! Tall and with a powerful build he possessed wings that quivered back and forth.
He had called me by my name, which I was now aware connected me to something in my past- but though a door had opened I had not yet stepped through.
This man or angel nodded his head in a reassuring manner. "You have only blurred recollections of your former self here on Atlantis, but the mist will gradually clear. Two days hence the river spirit will accelerate a complete return of your senses."
Instinctively I knew this being meant me no harm but he still seemed a far off figure, as unreal as my imagination; something provided by it. Again I pinched myself, yet he still stood there.
"Who are you?"
The stranger's cheeks glowed red and his beard stirred in the slight breeze
"I am the Archangel Israfel, known in Arab folk-law as 'the Burning One,' the Angel of Resurrection and Song. My heartstrings are a lute and I have the sweetest voice of all of God's creations. I am a four-winged angel, and whilst my feet are under the seventh heaven my head reaches to the pillars of the divine throne".
He paused in his description to look steadfastly at me.
"And why was I brought here." "In your previous life you lived here in the form of a great leader; Damon, the Lord Provost of Atlantis, but due to a lapse of conscience, on your last demise your spirit slipped to Earth where you were reborn. You have been brought here as the living embodiment of Damon; a temporary incarnation whilst your earthly body remains in a deep sleep.
I had become a little angry. "You have no right to bring me here - return me to my own body."
"That cannot happen just yet," said Israfel. "You are needed in the fight against Belial."
I tried hard to remember but the haze still persisted.
"Belial?
"He is known by many names, Belial, Satan, Lucifer, Beelzebub, Zophiel, Zadkiel, Eblis, and Shaytan. The list goes on. All mean the same. But here he is known as Belial, the angel of lawlessness; known to many as Beliar, the one without value."
"How can he hope to triumph," I said? God is invincible - all-powerful."
"Yes, but.when God gave life to man and angels he also gave them the gift of free will. In doing so he takes no part in any dispute on the lower four planes between Belial's legions and his own angels of light, but stands aside whilst the battles take place - offering no help to one or the other."
"Why does he remain impartial?" "His angels patrol the four lower planes, but it is the souls residing there that have the true power to alter the balance. As you will later learn, their destinies are in their own hands. With God's blessing we fight alongside mortals, but whatever ultimately becomes of them will be of their own doing."
3
Meeting the Atlanteans
Israfel explained that sophisticated weapons were forbidden on Hellania, swords, spears and bow was the criteria of this world; a rule that applied to all. Consequently though Belial's armies massively outnumbered the Atlanteans they too used simple weapons with which the Atlanteans were much their superiors. God made the law to level the field. Nevertheless, other aspects of technology flourished. Atlanteans reached great heights in the fields of medical knowledge and became masters in the arts of civil engineering. Their buildings towered majestically to the skies and the construction of huge dams upon the many rivers supplied them with a limitless source of power.
Suddenly a series of piercing screeches rent the air and my blood ran cold; never had I heard such a terrifying sound.
"Be not alarmed," said Israfel. In order to aid in his conquest of this planet Belial brought many creatures to Hellania via a time warp, a passageway we have tried to close on many occasions, without success. Belial always thwarted us as it gives his minions a quick road to this world. However, some time in the near future we can find good cause for its use. But that is yet to come!"
Then he indicated for me to follow him, and without a moment's hesitation I trailed in his wake through dense undergrowth upon a path leading to the plains below. The gravity of this world was less than that of Earth's and bounding effortlessly behind him I felt I could outrun any living thing. Yet the nerve-racking noises behind drew closer and when Israfel urged me to hurry I wondered anxiously why the creatures gave him such concern. Could he not open his wings to fly us from this danger? But I banished such thoughts from my mind when we reached the hill bottom.
Breaking clear of the bushes we were now upon the open grassland running as quickly as we could from whatever followed in our rear- but it didn't seem fast enough when over two score of 8ft tall reptilian creatures emerged from the thickets wearing metal breastplates and carrying cumbersome spears. They loped after us upright on two legs with a gait like that of a kangaroo; presenting a fearsome sight with scaly bodies and large fangs that protruded from their lower jaws.
Somewhat to our front a group of uniformed men between us and the far mountain, looked to our rear knelt upon the ground behind upright shields. Racing towards them with as much speed as my legs could provide, Israfel ran beside me, no longer the infallible being I had pictured him. The creatures gained rapidly when a hail of arrows stopped them short and the brief respite gave us time to reach the line of soldiers.
A dark skinned man with black raven hair tied in a bunch to the nape of his neck, of average height and with a finely toned body, greeted us in a uniform that set him apart from the other soldiers. But though he appeared to be an officer there was no sign of any of the fine braid that I wore
"Sire," he said to Israfel. There have been no reports of any Sardians in this area. Those following you must be far from the main force."
Then straightening to his full height he introduced himself.
"I am Aaron, a lieutenant in the service of Lord Melchizedek. My liege has ordered me to seek you out."
With barely time to finish his sentence the huge Sardians ran forward and unleashed their spears, which hit the soldier's shields and rebounded harmlessly to one side. Seeing the futility of their action they retreated to their former positions where they took out their broadswords in preparation of a frontal attack. As yet I felt affinity with the weapons I carried and without the ability to use them I was utterly reliant on my present company.
Lieutenant Aaron, who had recognized the insignia upon my uniform, noted my concern.
"Be assured Sire," he said. "They will not break through our lines, but make no mistake they will attack as they have an insatiable blood lust; their only fulfillment is the pleasure of the kill. It is rare for them to die other than on the battlefield but as prolific breeders their numbers scarcely diminish."
He moved away from me, standing behind the line of soldiers waiting for the attack, when without any warning the Sardians charged our positions.
"Hold," he said, as the soldiers peered over the tops of their shields. "Hold."
They ran forward at a tremendous speed and came to within ten yards of us before his next order was issued "Now," he shouted loudly.
The soldiers dropped their shields to the ground and picked up something that looked like a crossbow; but there the similarity ended. A dozen bolts sped from each bassot in quick succession, felling the Sardians in large numbers and halting the bewildered survivors. Israfel's wings beat the air and unsheathing his long curved sword he brandished it above his head, and then rising from the ground he whirled his blade amongst them until the grass turned red. As an avenging angel, he was the one. Wild eyed and bloodied he stood erect with his arms opened wide and his chest pushed forward; his head went back and he uttered a roar of triumph that bellowed from his throat like thunder, ebbing and flowing with chilling intonations.
"Thank you for the victory oh Lord," he cried. "Thank you for giving me strength at this crucial moment."
Kneeling upon the ground with his head bent forward he placed his hands upon his knees and remained in that position for several minutes. Then rising to his feet he stood to face Lieutenant Aaron.
"Have you a message from the lord of Salem?"
"Yes Sire, but first I bear grave tidings. The city has fallen."
Israfel glowered. "Salem was strong enough to hold for some time."
"Sire, many reinforcements sailed from Arctoris."
"What news of your liege?"
"Sire, the city was besieged for many days and by their very numbers they threatened to overcome us, so my Lord had no choice other than to withdraw. In covering the exodus of the civilian population we fought a rearguard action against overwhelming odds, whilst ships still under our control enabled many citizens to escape by sea and some to withdraw with the army into the great forest bordering Salem. We suffered great losses as Belial's forces attempted to break through our lines, yet we held steady until almost every man, women, and child had left by ship or reached the forest's edge."
Then Lieutenant Aaron appeared stressed and his tone became deadly serious.
"Sire," he continued slowly.
"At the battle's conclusion 10'000 of our finest men lay dead."
Israfel grimaced and swallowed slowly, unable to speak for a moment.
"And what of the civilians," he asked quietly?
"The Azuri tribes provided us with an escape route Sire. They guided our people far into the denseness of the great forest where they now reside safely in their charge. However, a number of prisoners were taken, soldiers, women and children."
Listening to their conversation the name Azuri struck a distant chord - something from my past life strove to be remembered. "My liege seeks to rendezvous with you Sire," the lieutenant continued. "Even now the army regroups; this very spot chosen as his rallying point."
Finishing his report he looked to the ground in a submissive manner, ashamed at his part in the defeat - but Israfel instantly bolstered him.
"Do not shoulder the blame. "Your duty is done; no doubt only your very best. But is there anything more I should know?" "Loki himself led many new arrivals - the greater proportion of them, lesser demons from Hell."
Israfel's face took on a look of dismay.
"Something is badly amiss," he exclaimed. "Odin chained him to a great rock, never again to leave his place of confinement in the nether regions. It is indeed grave news and what I feared most never to happen. It is as we suspected. The rear portal of Hell is damaged so it seems that Loki and an army of lesser demons have left by this route."
His tone then hardened. "After their celebrations the torture of these unfortunate captives will begin so a counter-attack must soon be made even if only to save one life from the horrors awaiting them. When the army arrives we must set out immediately for Salem!"
He again turned his attention to me. "People on Earth think of Loki and Odin as Myths in Scandinavian folklore. But they are real beings. Every corner of the earth has its own protector who rules over separate dominions, angels of the light answerable only to God. Odin had this charge placed upon him as did Loki; one of the many angels of the light who sided with Belial. Now he has broken free from his bonds Belial will have made him the supreme commander of all his marauding armies upon Hellania. But because the time lock at Hell's rear portal has gone awry many lesser demons have escaped from the nether regions and these now form the majority of the army thrown against Salem."
I tried to make sense of it all. "Why does Israfel not make use of his considerable supernatural powers? He fights in a corporeal body that can be cut down?
"You muse over things that will soon be revealed to you," he said.
I pointed to a small gash on his arm. "In taking human form you bleed as I do." Israfel looked upon the small cut and smiled. "Upon the lower planetary systems angels must use their supernatural powers sparingly - and so we adopt a human appearance. If I sustained my angelic form on Hellania my powers would rapidly deplete, which would leave me at the mercy of a great demon. Defeat by one of these higher beings would return me to the foot of God's throne; out of the battle for an eternity of time. Therefore I fight my lesser enemies in human form, thus conserving my strength for any encounters with great demons. However Loki sustains his celestial form by the drinking of human blood."
I shuddered at the thought. "Could you do the same," I asked.
"On the material planes the powers of angels can be replenished that way, but this is not an option for us for then we would become subservient to the will of Belial. Whilst we follow the path of light Loki has no limitations to his choices, which makes him stronger than any one of us. To overcome him the combined strengths of three archangels are needed."
"Then lesser demons are no threat to an angel of your standing."
"They present but a small danger to me. On entering the physical universe Lucifer's demons lose their immortality to become flesh and blood. They can be killed in battle. I'm far superior in combat to any of the lesser demons, yet by taking the corporeal body of a mortal I can be killed by one well-placed thrust from a sword. But to be slain by a mortal or lesser demon would be only a temporary inconvenience, which would put me out of the fray for a brief period while this body quickly revitalized itself. However if any of us leave the battle even for a short time, it may well be lost."
I was amused and spoke in irony.
"Much like when I played with lead soldiers at home on Earth. Flick one over and it remains dead only for the duration of the battle."
"A sound parallel." said Israfel.
"You face lesser demons in human form to conserve your strength. But against the Sardians you spread your wings and flew."
Israfel glowered as he answered. "I became annoyed at the thought of all the innocents massacred at Salem. In human form we take on some of the accompanying emotions."
I saw in that moment Israfel possessed some of humankind's vulnerability and that he still had far to evolve. Even as an archangel he was not perfect.
7
Lord Melchizdek
The sound of distant bugles disturbed our reverie and Aaron excitedly pointed to groups of men approaching in large numbers. "Sire, it appears the bulk of the army has regrouped."
Upon the landscape under the shadow of the far mountain soldiers could be seen making their way from the forested lower slopes onto the plains in ever increasing numbers. Walking towards us through the long grass I made out men dressed in bright green uniforms carrying an assortment of halberds and pikes, striding alongside bowmen dressed in scarlet. Others wore red tunics and metal breastplates with scabbards upon their waists containing short broadswords, and the steeds of riders bearing upright lances picked their way slowly down either side of the river's banks. Arriving in groups some time passed before the front lines of an assembled army stopped a small distance from Israfel who stood elevated before them upon a rocky outcrop. Evidently these men had been in battle. An air of despondency pervaded the whole scene, but when Israfel's voice thundered across the plain with the strength of a hundred megaphones they looked up with an expression of hope upon their face.
"Men of Atlantis, do not be afraid for I am now at your side. We return to Salem and this time with a different outcome."
At this short address the men's spirits visibly lifted.
"What of Loki," called out a voice from the crowd? "Who comes with his hordes of demons from the gates of Hell."
Then a man with the most striking appearance stepped out of the throng whose jet-black hair matched his copper coloured skin. Climbing the small hillock he embraced Israfel and looked down upon the men under his command, silencing them by holding both arms aloft.
"Loki will be dealt with shortly," he shouted loudly above the excitement. "At this stage your courage must not fail; put your trust in God."
This newcomer had wings whom I knew also to be an archangel, yet my instincts made me wary of him. Something in my dim past reacted, triggering hidden memories that caused me some trepidation; my fears well founded as the stranger shot me a withering look. He was the angel sage who ruled over Salem commanding an army of 70,000 men, many of whom had lost their lives in the battle against Loki. He had played a role upon Earth long before the birth of Jesus by personally delivering God's covenant to Abraham and by announcing himself to the world as the servant of El Elyon, the Most High.
"Melchizedek, my old friend you have come." said Israfel. "I feared you were slain and out of the fray for awhile."
"Not so, it was a strategic withdrawal. With your help, together we will retake Salem."
Again they embraced and then turned with outstretched arms to their bedraggled army. The soldiers before them raised their swords and lances, giving out resounding cheers that echoed across the plains to the foot of the far mountain, and then with added fervour the chanting began. "Melchizedek . Israfel . Melchizedek . Israfel."
The soldier's morale appeared boosted. The beating of weapons against their shields rose steadily in volume to reach a crescendo that continued for many minutes. When the furore abated Melchizedek ordered a fanfare of trumpets calling on all the high -ranking officers to assemble before him, who came out from the lines; trusted aides of high position that stopped directly underneath the two archangels.
"Tonight," said Melchizdek, "we regain our strength and plan Salem's recapture. On the morrow we march."
One of the officers addressed him.
"What is the likely outcome Sire? Not only is Loki a powerful demon but I hear their numbers have swelled since our defeat. "Fear not, though these are difficult circumstances they are not insurmountable. The city of Practoria's strength of arms surpasses all others within Atlantis, and as we speak reinforcements come from there under the leadership of Sandalphon. Loki is powerful, but the combination of three archangels fighting side by side shall tilt the balance in our favour! Only after the recapture of Salem do we tend to other business. Demons swarm from the rear door of Hell and God directs that we plug the hole from whence they escape."
At the mention of the other archangel a great gasp came from the officer's ranks and his name sounded upon everyone's lips.
"Now our business is ended," Melchizedek said, "we make camp; ere tomorrow comes prepare your men well."
In the meantime Israfel had returned to my side and curious about this newcomer I questioned him. "Ah, the sonorously named Sandalphon," he mused. "The great angel prince whom Elijah the prophet became after his death, of the three of us, the most senior archangel. His wisdom is unsurpassed; therefore he is our leader, our counselor, and your lord to whom you serve and pay homage. You Damon have overall command of the armies of Practoria, which are double the size to those of the depleted armies of Salem."
I tried hard to take in Israfel's last statement. He must surely be mistaken!
8
Malawi, the Midon
Our attention was taken by a troop of fast approaching horsemen with Aaron at their head, who reined his horse to a stop before us.
"Your gloomy face tells a tale," said Israfel. "What misfortune has occurred?"
"Sire," said the lieutenant in some consternation. "I bear bad tidings - we have been spotted by a Midon patrol - even now we follow them."
Holding two horses by the bridle he handed them to Israfel. "I felt sure Sire that you would wish to take part in their apprehension."
Israfel reacted strongly by snatching the reins from the lieutenant, and with a look of disbelief upon his face showed a temper I now knew him to be capable of.
"Someone has erred badly," he shouted at Aaron. "Our patrols should have prevented this. At all costs the Midons must not reach Loki!"
"They split into two sections," Lieutenant Aaron continued. "One party we have overtaken and slain - the others it seems make toward the forest."
Israfel calmed, allowing Aaron to ask a question. "Should we inform the men of Sandalphon's approach Sire?" he enquired.
"Yes, it will further uplift their spirits, On the morrow they march, and must do so readily.
Now in the saddle Israfel presented me with the reins of another horse, indicating for me to mount.
"Join in the chase Damon," he said, with a half smile upon his lips. "You shall meet the Midons."
It seemed that here on this distant planet I had indeed become my former self, so with no more ado I mounted a lively stallion that strained at the bit, seemingly fully acquainted with all the equestrian skills that I might need.
"What is concern over these Midons?" I asked Lieutenant Aaron. "There was no worry about the Sardians escaping. Would not they have told of our coming?"
Aaron pulled against the reins of his own spirited horse, which snorted and frothed at the mouth.
"Midons are far more cunning an adversary Sire. Sardians are as animals with no intelligence other than of using weapons. Their brain-span is such, that, even if they could comprehend the task of delivering a message, they would have forgotten what they were about before reaching their destination. Their thoughts would then be on the prospects of another battle. However, the Midons are quite a different proposition. If spotted by them our position would be revealed to Loki."
As he again called me Sire I strove to revive memories of my present position, but when Israfel gave the order to proceed I put these thoughts to one side.
Setting off at a gallop we followed their trail through flattened grass and before long came upon a score of stocky ape-like creatures no more than five feet tall, whose long muscular arms reached below their knees enabling them to walk upright or on all fours, facing us with their backs to a small hillock in the sure knowledge of their impending destruction.
Israfel drew his sword from its sheath. "Damon, you are not yet prepared to do battle," he said. "Wait here at Aaron's side."
Then without further deliberation he led the whole troop in a headlong charge. When the horses crashed into their midst the Midons defended themselves with a fierce determination, showing a tenacity of spirit and some measure of skill in the use of their short swords - but to no avail. At the end of what was but a brief encounter only two lived, now held at the points of sabers by soldiers awaiting further orders from Israfel. Once again he lay prostrate upon the ground paying homage to God.
One of the Midons glared in defiance. "Our master is more powerful than any ye may put against him. Tis but a short while before ye all die," he spat out loud. "He will drink thy blood dry and roast every last one of ye upon his devil's spit. Aye," he continued, "methinks it is the very last day which ye all may live.
But Israfel continued with his prayer, completely oblivious to his ranting. It was then I unthinkingly gave an order to one of the soldiers- and was obeyed without question. Israfel, now stood to his feet and ordered both Midons to be laid at his feet. One continued to scream and curse but the other showed only fear and reticence.
"Speak the truth and your lives will be spared," Israfel commanded them in a quiet determined voice. "Speak a lie - or do not speak at all and I shall surely kill you."
But in his defiance the excited Midon continued to rant and rave. "If my Lord Loki does not kill you," he screeched out loud. "Then the master - Belial himself will."
He laughed hysterically seemingly satisfied with his tirade. It was doubtful whether or not he knew the full implications of his outburst as without more ado Israfel slew him with one mighty sweep of his sword. Since his capture the other Midon had remained without a word throughout and at this action was plainly terrified for his life, gone any signs of bravado as the head of his companion fell at his feet.
Kneeling upon the ground he entreated Israfel to spare him. "I am but a poor soul," he whimpered. "Tis through circumstances I have been born a Midon. I plead for your mercy and will do anything you ask of me."
"What of Belial your master," said Israfel, who stood above the creature with his upraised sword? "Do you reject him?"
"Yes - I reject him!
Israfel smiled and after sheathing his blade he spoke in a low pronounced tone. "Having renounced your master he would place you in Hellfire. You must now know there is no returning to your evil ways; no path to tread except that of the light where you might find redemption. In the meantime there is much information that I seek - which you can provide. Your co-operation shall bode well for you."
The Midon rose to his feet looking bewildered. "By what name are you known?" Israfel asked him."
"Melahi."
"You should address me as Sire, Melahi, then, perhaps your miserable life will be spared. It is only by my indulgence that you live."
Touching his forehead with the tips of his fingers, the Midon bowed low from the waist flourishing a long arm before him. "Yes Sire - I understand."
With his hands bound and a rope placed around his neck we returned to camp trailing Melahi at the rear of a horse. Depending upon his future behaviour - perhaps his soul could be saved. Circumstances favoured us. Our presence was still undetected and from Melahi we may glean some knowledge of Loki's defences at Salem.
1
All articles on this website by
shamus are copyright ©shamus and should not be reproduced
without the author's prior written consent. All opinions are the opinions of their
respective authors and are not necessarily the opinions of The Writers' Circle.