Messiah: The First Judgement (Chronicles of Brothers) by Wendy Alec Page B
Authors: Wendy Alec
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‘He is a pragmatic man, one who has seen bloodshed.’ Herod’s eyes glittered. ‘Does he come in peace or war?’ He bunched his robe in his fist, trembling. ‘War!’ he whimpered. ‘He seeks revenge. He comes to murder me and annexe Judea to the Nabateans!’ A thread of spittle hung suspended from his chin. He was seized by paroxysm, coughing up blood into his handkerchief.
His chief attendant held out a sealed missive. Herod snatched it and tore it open, eyes wild, scanning the contents.
‘He would honour me and solve our border disputes.’ He wiped his brow with a silk handkerchief. ‘He seeks peace.’ He exhaled heavily in relief and held out his trembling hand to his cupbearer, who immediately placed an ornate goblet of wine in it.
‘This upstart king could well threaten Aretas, also.’ He sipped from his cup delicately. ‘Get word to his ambassadors that my palace awaits him. He shall indeed be my welcome guest.’
Herod caressed the goblet thoughtfully. ‘The royal houses of Petra and Judea would do well to make alliance. Together we shall destroy this upstart king!’
* * *
Herod turned to a tall, sinister figure to the right of his throne. ‘Mephisto, relay to me the Necromancer’s counsel.’
Mephisto chanted, and slowly the thirteen Warlock Kings of the West materialized next to him, unseen by Herod. Dracul, their ruler, spoke, echoed by Mephisto, almost as an alter ego, speaking with him in a strange, unearthly unison. ‘Let them make careful search for the child and report back, that you may find him and destroy the newborn king.’
* * *
Gabriel thundered bareback on his stallion, through the lush rain forests, across the vast bulrush meadows of the Eastern plains of Eden in the First Heaven, his flaxen hair flying. He came to a halt leagues beneath the holy mountain, near the base of the throne room’s rubied entrance, outside the western labyrinths of the seven spires. He dismounted and entered the underground entrance to the sacred caverns. Seven hidden chambers in the mountain each ascended into the inner sanctum of the labyrinths. Gabriel walked, head bowed, his path lit only by the flaming eternal torches high against the cavern walls.
As he ascended higher into the chamber, an unaccountable dread clutched his heart. His ascent continued, deep into the heart of the labyrinths, until he reached the sixth burning lamp. Nine tall silent warriors stood with flaming broadswords. The Watchers, guardians of the hidden sanctum of Yehovah. They raised their flaming swords to Gabriel, bowing in acknowledgment.
Gabriel continued through the dim passage, ascending until he saw them: Yehovah’s dread warriors, the Watchers of the seventh flame.
The Watchers beheld him, and as one they lifted their flaming swords, which had barred his way to the seventh chamber. Ever so slowly, Gabriel walked on through the huge iron grid, magnetised towards a blazing light on his left. The Watchers drew back and disappeared. He moved deeper into the cavern. In front of him blew a stormy wind, and out of the wind burned a great indigo cloud with great lightning and flashings caming from out of the inferno.
Gabriel stared ahead in wonder. There before him stood Jether, in the very midst of the burning flames, his arms raised, his staff, the staff of the white winds, held high. His hair and beard flew in the tempests that rose from the indigo cloud. Blue lightnings blazed from the staff. His face glowed as burnished bronze, his skin burning translucent. Dimly visible in the midst of the coals of fire lay seven enormous gold-bound lapis-lazuli codices, their pages blazing with a fierce blue fire – the codices of the White Judgement. Gabriel watched as two majestic flaming cherubim became visble through the flames. The first lifted the top codex from the midst of the burning coals. He stretched forth his hand and passed the sacred tome to Jether.
Jether clasped it, holding it high. ‘The Codex
‘He is a pragmatic man, one who has seen bloodshed.’ Herod’s eyes glittered. ‘Does he come in peace or war?’ He bunched his robe in his fist, trembling. ‘War!’ he whimpered. ‘He seeks revenge. He comes to murder me and annexe Judea to the Nabateans!’ A thread of spittle hung suspended from his chin. He was seized by paroxysm, coughing up blood into his handkerchief.
His chief attendant held out a sealed missive. Herod snatched it and tore it open, eyes wild, scanning the contents.
‘He would honour me and solve our border disputes.’ He wiped his brow with a silk handkerchief. ‘He seeks peace.’ He exhaled heavily in relief and held out his trembling hand to his cupbearer, who immediately placed an ornate goblet of wine in it.
‘This upstart king could well threaten Aretas, also.’ He sipped from his cup delicately. ‘Get word to his ambassadors that my palace awaits him. He shall indeed be my welcome guest.’
Herod caressed the goblet thoughtfully. ‘The royal houses of Petra and Judea would do well to make alliance. Together we shall destroy this upstart king!’
* * *
Herod turned to a tall, sinister figure to the right of his throne. ‘Mephisto, relay to me the Necromancer’s counsel.’
Mephisto chanted, and slowly the thirteen Warlock Kings of the West materialized next to him, unseen by Herod. Dracul, their ruler, spoke, echoed by Mephisto, almost as an alter ego, speaking with him in a strange, unearthly unison. ‘Let them make careful search for the child and report back, that you may find him and destroy the newborn king.’
* * *
Gabriel thundered bareback on his stallion, through the lush rain forests, across the vast bulrush meadows of the Eastern plains of Eden in the First Heaven, his flaxen hair flying. He came to a halt leagues beneath the holy mountain, near the base of the throne room’s rubied entrance, outside the western labyrinths of the seven spires. He dismounted and entered the underground entrance to the sacred caverns. Seven hidden chambers in the mountain each ascended into the inner sanctum of the labyrinths. Gabriel walked, head bowed, his path lit only by the flaming eternal torches high against the cavern walls.
As he ascended higher into the chamber, an unaccountable dread clutched his heart. His ascent continued, deep into the heart of the labyrinths, until he reached the sixth burning lamp. Nine tall silent warriors stood with flaming broadswords. The Watchers, guardians of the hidden sanctum of Yehovah. They raised their flaming swords to Gabriel, bowing in acknowledgment.
Gabriel continued through the dim passage, ascending until he saw them: Yehovah’s dread warriors, the Watchers of the seventh flame.
The Watchers beheld him, and as one they lifted their flaming swords, which had barred his way to the seventh chamber. Ever so slowly, Gabriel walked on through the huge iron grid, magnetised towards a blazing light on his left. The Watchers drew back and disappeared. He moved deeper into the cavern. In front of him blew a stormy wind, and out of the wind burned a great indigo cloud with great lightning and flashings caming from out of the inferno.
Gabriel stared ahead in wonder. There before him stood Jether, in the very midst of the burning flames, his arms raised, his staff, the staff of the white winds, held high. His hair and beard flew in the tempests that rose from the indigo cloud. Blue lightnings blazed from the staff. His face glowed as burnished bronze, his skin burning translucent. Dimly visible in the midst of the coals of fire lay seven enormous gold-bound lapis-lazuli codices, their pages blazing with a fierce blue fire – the codices of the White Judgement. Gabriel watched as two majestic flaming cherubim became visble through the flames. The first lifted the top codex from the midst of the burning coals. He stretched forth his hand and passed the sacred tome to Jether.
Jether clasped it, holding it high. ‘The Codex
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