The Dark Lord's Vessel

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

“When devils will the blackest sins put on

They do suggest at first with heavenly shows”

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― William Shakespeare

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BA'AL ZEBUB

Ba'al Zebub hurried across the desert like a hyena on the hunt, filled with the strength of the One True God's holy fire. He could see each creature which scurried through the night by the glow of their spirit light and tantalizing scent of their emotions.

He spied a bonfire burning upon a hill, brilliant orange against the distant, inky heavens. His body tingled as he sensed that there, upon the high places, the Uruk worshipped the One True God. He reached the periphery, shielded from view by a cluster of jagged rocks. Through the flames, a man stood in front of a large, flat stone altar.

'That is Chief Ditanu,' Moloch whispered. 'His son Tizqar went missing while raiding the local caravans.'

The Uruk chief was tall and well-muscled, bedecked in gold and an elaborate, many-fringed kilt. At his back, two battle-scarred men wrestled a ram up to the top of the hill while a fourth man wearing the elaborate raiment of a priest chanted a plea to the gods. At the bottom of the hill, a rough-looking group of mercenaries worked themselves into a war-frenzy.

The sky turned pink, and then it turned fiery red. The two burly men heaved the ram up onto the stone table and held it down. The priest chanted louder. The Uruk chief raised a stone dagger above his head

"Great god," he shouted. "Give me back my son?"

His face twisted into a mask of anguish as he plunged his stone blade downward. The ram gave a frantic bleat. The shouted, "Great God! Hear our prayers!"

Coppery and sweet, fresh blood burst into the air as the chief severed the animal's jugular. Ba'al Zebub basked in the energy cast off by the creature's terror, but its death was too merciful, too clean, too quick. The fools didn't understand it wasn't just the number of victims sacrificed, but the quality of suffering to tenderize the meal.

He stepped out from behind the rock to approach the chief.

'Pass straight through the fire,' Moloch whispered.

"But Master, I will be burned!"

'Have faith…'

A slender trickle of power tingled into his body. Entire universes passed before his eyes.

Ba'al Zebub stepped into the raging inferno just as the first golden ray of sunlight shot above the horizon. The flames whirled harmlessly in a vortex. A pillar of flame reached upward towards the sky. The common root-tongue of all languages spilled into his mind as Ba'al Zebub raised his arms into a victory 'V", crowned king of the fire by the God of Fire himself.

"Ditanu, son of Sin-Sumilisar," Ba'al Zebub shouted in fluent Uruk. "The One True God has sent me to answer your prayers."

The bloody knife fell out of the Uruk chief's hand.

"Great god be praised!"

The flames parted. Ba'al Zebub stepped out of the fire, naked except for the smoke which steamed off of his skin and tail. The men who surrounded the altar threw themselves to the ground.

"Give me your kilt and shawl." Ba'al Zebub told the Uruk priest.

The priest gaped.

"Do it!" the Uruk chief ordered from the dirt.

The priest's eyes rounded like an owl's, as though he had not expected his ceremony to do anything, and stripped off his elaborately beaded sheepskin kilt. His hands trembled as he handed it to Ba'al Zebub.

It was a fine fringed kilt, with the long fur parted and twisted into tiny ringlets, each one decorated with a gold or lapis bead. It felt warm and sensual as he wrapped it around his loins. He took the priest's golden wristbands, his necklace made of lapis and his staff. But he let the priest keep his elaborate, feathered headdress. Nature had already crowned him with a magnificent chartreuse dorsal ridge.

Ba'al Zebub held up his clawed hand. "The One True God thanks you for your devotion."

He turned to Chief Ditanu, who kneeled at his feet.

"Arise, Ditanu, son of Sin-Sumilisar."

One of the two strong-men helped the chief back onto his feet.

"Please? Tell me?" Ditanu's voice warbled. "Who kidnapped my son?"

Ba'al Zebub jabbed a clawed finger towards the north.

"Your son has been taken captive by the Assurians."

"But the Ubaid and the Uruk have been at peace for over a decade. Why would they provoke us now? And on our very own lands?"

Ba'al Zebub made a sweeping gesture towards the mercenaries who milled in the background. Moloch whispered information. Amongst their midst were men Jamin had hired to raid the Assurian village.

"The Assurian chief, Kiyan, seeks to absolve his son. He intends to blame you for his son's betrayal."

"But Kiyan banished his own son!" Chief Ditanu said. "Jamin came here, but we could not give him shelter."

He pointed at a tall man, neither Uruk nor a desert-dweller, dressed in a fine linen robe which rivaled even the chief's. Ba'al Zebub's snout curved up in a grin. The Uruk chief had not given Jamin shelter because his own wealth was dependent upon the good will of a sponsor.

"Laum, son of Shalisgar." Ba'al Zebub gestured towards the linen-merchant whose trade network spread between seven tribes. "The One True God has sent me to answer your prayer for justice, as well."

The man stepped forward with the pragmatic deliberation of one well-versed in the school of intrigue.

"What do you know of my daughter?" Laum asked.

Ba'al Zebub suppressed a grin. He hadn't said anything about Laum's daughter, Shahla. The one who had caused the peataí's downfall. He forced his expression to appear sympathetic.

"I bound her hand in marriage myself to her immortal husband," Ba'al Zebub said softly. "He sent me to tell you he found great joy in her arms. She was murdered by the same knaves who took Ditanu's son!"

Laum's eyes glittered bright against the rising sun.

"She appears to me, daily holding her dead baby. But I cannot hear her! All I see is the recrimination in her eyes!"

"Immanu, son-of-Lugalbanda, blocks her spirit from entering the Dreamtime. Unless you help her, she will haunt the desert forever."

He felt the pang of hunger which rumbled in Moloch's stomach, along with a bitter laugh. Shahla, unfaithful Shahla, whose heartfelt desire had been to get back the baby she had lost. She must have realized the danger to her child's spirit at the moment of her death, for she hid from Moloch now, and the accursed shaman blocked her escape into the Dreamtime. If Moloch got his hands on the unfaithful wraith and her child, making love to her was the last thing on his mind.

"But what of Tizqar?" The Uruk chief grabbed his arm. "How will I get back my son?"

Ba'al Zebub placed his hand on the man's shoulder. "We will get him back. But first, the One True God demands a demonstration of your faith."

"Faith?" Chief Ditanu gestured to the corpses of the sacrificed rams. "I just slaughtered half my herd. If he wants the other half, I will gladly send my men back to fetch them!"

"Ahh! Nothing so drastic. The One True God says you are burdened by the actions of a spy."

"Who?"

Ba'al Zebub lumbered towards the mercenaries, relishing the way they fell back which each thundering step. A gawky mercenary argued with a burly one who wore the same brown woven robe, but the skinny man's belt was green, while the other's was green with the scarlet stripe of an eldest son.

"Bring those two men," Ba'al Zebub said, "but do not alarm them. It pleases our god if they come willingly."

The Uruk strong-men brought the Halifians to stand before the fire.

'The older brother wishes to become shaykh of his tribe,' Moloch whispered, 'but younger brother supports the father, leaving the remaining brothers conflicted. When they go into battle to fight whoever kidnapped the Uruk chief's son, the older one intends to kill his younger brother and blame it on the enemy.'

Ba'al Zebub switched languages into fluent Halifian.

"You are familiar with my species, yes?"

"You have visited our tent-group many times," the older brother spoke.

"What is your name?"

"I am Zahid, and this is my brother, Lubaid. We are sons of Shaykh Marwan of the bādiyat ash-shām."

"I have never visited your tents," Ba'al Zebub said, "but perhaps my men have? Why were they at your tent-group, and when?"

The older brother radiated pheromones of anger, but his expression remained cool, his regard for his brother forced.

"The Assurian, Jamin brought them," Zahid said. "He came to visit our half-sister."

Ba'al Zebub's head jerked with a birdlike, almost alien motion as the One True God try to claw his way into his nervous system. Was it anger? No. Jealousy. But his DNA was too impure to serve as a mortal vessel for such a powerful god as Lucifer had done.

"And when was the last time you saw this Jamin?"

"He was at our tent-group less than a fortnight past," the younger brother said, oblivious to the dangerous undercurrents. "With our Sata'anic friends, Private Katlego and Sergeant Dahaka. He is betrothed to take the hand of my sister."

Ba'al Zebub's dorsal ridge reared with surprise. The peataí? Betrothed? He'd been under the impression the peataí was hung up on the Angelic's wife, but obviously not if he'd been seeing another female? He calculated the timeline. Two weeks ago would have been just before him and Moloch, wearing Lucifer's body, had returned from the Monoceros Ring.

Had it really only been four days since Jamin had stolen Lucifer from right underneath Moloch's nose? It felt as though he'd been wandering this accursed wilderness for months.

"What is your sister's name?"

"Aturdokht."

The older brother elbowed his younger brother in the ribs.

"What do you want with Jamin?" Zahid's voice filled with anger. "Does this have anything to do with the fire which rained down from the heavens over Assur?"

Ba'al Zebub turned towards Chief Ditanu and the linen-trader, Laum. These men would stand together, while the mercenaries would follow whoever had the largest purse.

"Ditanu of Akshak," Ba'al Zebub said. "The events which resulted in Tizqar's kidnapping all originate from a single act to dishonor Laum's daughter."

"What does Shahla have to do with my son?" Chief Ditanu asked.

Ba'al Zebub grabbed the skinny Halifian man by the throat. His feet dangled in the air as he lifted Lubaid face-to-snout.

"Tizqar was taken because he bragged Shahla's baby was fathered by Qishtea of Nineveh, not Jamin!"

Lubaid's eyeballs bulged out of his head. A trickle of urine filled the air with its stench.

"But Jamin believes the winged demon fathered Shahla's child," Chief Ditanu said.

"Jamin is a traitor! He sold out his own people, and then he sold out you who gave him shelter, and then he sold out my own good men, resulting in their capture!"

Laum's eyes darted to the side, but he did not contradict Ba'al Zebub about the baby's parentage. So? It was true?

"Can you prove this accusation?" Laum said to Ba'al Zebub.

"Look in Lubaid's belt. You will find proof this man conspired with the Nineveh chief to make the problem go away."

"Do it!" Chief Ditanu ordered.

The Uruk priest pulled a stone blade out of Lubaid's belt, knapped from the finest black obsidian with a stag horn handle inlaid with gold and lapis, the symbol of Nineveh's ruling family. Chief Ditanu gestured to his two guards. Without a word, they grabbed Zahid and kicked the back of his knees to shove him to the ground. Behind them, the other Halifians shouted, but not one moved to help their compatriots.

"I had no knowledge of these doings!" Zahid said. "Everybody knows I implored my father not to give Jamin my sister's hand, but my father has grown old and foolish! He cares more for a woman than he does for the well-being of our tribe!"

Laum, the linen trader, stood in front of the Halifian chieftain. He took the stone blade and tapped it upon his palm.

"On many occasions I have hired your services to take out a competitor," Laum said. "And now I find not only did you consort with the man responsible for my daughter's death, but you came here tonight, knowing full well who took Chief Ditanu's son?"

"I know nothing of Tizqar's kidnapping," Zahid said. "It is Lubaid and our half-brother Nusrat who are friendly with Jamin. Their friendship has alienated our tent-group from the rest of the tribe."

Ba'al Zebub fingered the ropy muscle in Lubaid's neck. The hunger grew stronger, more urgent, more bloodthirsty. 'Feed me,' Moloch whispered. Trills of power rippled through Ba'al Zebub's muscles.

He threw Lubaid to the ground, almost unconscious from lack of air, and stepped in front of the older brother.

"The One True God proposes a test of devotion. You can prove your innocence by carrying out the death sentence." He slid a claw up to the corner of Zahid's eye. "So tell me? Are you willing? Are you willing to prove your allegiance to the One True God?"

Zahid swallowed.

"Yes. I am willing."

Ba'al Zebub bent closer.

"I know," he spoke softly in perfect Halifian. "The One True God sent me here to answer your prayers as well. Kill anyone who opposes you, and then bring your half-sister to me, alive."

Zahid's eyes glittered. "Yes."

Ba'al Zebub pulled Zahid back to standing, forearm to forearm, two Agents of Moloch. He waited until the man stopped trembling before he pressed Qishtea of Nineveh's knife into his hand.

"Every good leader knows the penalty for treason. Now carry out the sentence."

Lubaid reached towards his brother. "Zahid! We are kin!"

Zahid grabbed his brother by the hair.

"We are not kin! Every night I listen to my mother weep because our father prefers to spend the night in your mother's tent!"

Lubaid screamed as Zahid pressed the knife against his throat.

"A quick death is too good for putting our honor in question!"

He dug the stone blade underneath the skin, avoiding the jugular which would give his brother the mercy of a quick death. Ba'al Zebub grew ecstatic as Lubaid's screams grew to a frantic, high pitched crescendo. His d**k grew hard as power pulsated through his body.

Zahid tore the head off the still-twitching body. He kneeled before Chief Ditanu and held out his brother's severed head.

"May you place this in the most despicable place you can think of and spit upon it every day."

Chief Ditanu did not take it. "Throw it out into the desert for the hyenas to feed upon."

A pillar of flame rose out of the bonfire. The mercenaries' teeth reflected hungrily against the fire like hyenas devouring a meal.

"Ba'al Zebub!"

"Ba'al Zebub!"

Power surged through Ba'al Zebub's body, giving him the strength of a dozen lizards.

"Swear it!" Ba'al Zebub grabbed the severed head and held it up. "Swear you are willing to slaughter every man, woman and child in Assur!"

Arms of fire beckoned to the mercenaries. The Uruk chief and his men threw themselves to their knees and pressed their foreheads into the ground. The mercenaries' eyes glittered like rabid jackals.

"Molechu Akhbar!" they all shouted. "Great god, we are willing."

Ba'al Zebub basked in the heat of the fire which did not burn. All his life he had wallowed in the shadow of the dragon, but now he was the dragon, the One True God's holy Agent.

He turned to face the enormous shape which reached up out of the fire, trying to punch through to this world, but without a genetically compatible mortal vessel, Moloch had to rely upon him.

"Soon, my lord." Ba'al Zebub's voice reverberated in the ancient language of the gods. "Soon, we shall find the key and unlock the gateway at Jebel Mar Elyas."

Lubaid's shattered spirit-light swirled around the flames like billions of tiny silver sparks, trying to escape the vortex. On the opposite side of the fire, a dark shape detached itself from one of the rocks.

There!

Ba'al Zebub grabbed his khanjar out of his belt. This time he would eliminate whatever vermin kept fluttering at the edge of his sight. He lunged straight through the bonfire, right through the outstretched arms of his god.

He could see the shadow. He could hear it.

Click. Click. Click. Click.

Something flew into his face.

With a shriek, Ba'al Zebub clawed at his eyes. The bat fluttered away before he had a chance to grip it. It chased after the shattered life-spark fragments which swirled around the fire.