Stealing Sacred Fire (26 page)

‘Mani mentioned those to me,’
Daniel said. ‘Some kind of hall of records. I also had a vision
about the Elders. One of them attempted to hand me a key.’ He
related the vision to Gadreel, who listened intently.

When Daniel had finished his
story, Gadreel smiled wistfully. ‘Perhaps, in whatever region of
space or time the Elders exist, they think this world has suffered
enough, or that humanity and Grigori alike are now ready to receive
their knowledge.’ She shrugged. ‘Anyway, one day I left my home and
let my instincts guide me. I had many strange adventures, but
eventually found my way to the homeland, Eden in the mountains.
Perhaps I was searching instinctively for Kharsag. I met a group of
Yezidi, and while in their camp, had another dream of the Elders. I
wasn’t conscious of receiving information in the dream, but when I
awoke, I just knew that the tribes-people were Grigori hybrid
descendants. They had been scattered, perhaps during the Deluge,
and the knowledge of their ancestry expunged from their minds. The
Kurds have been persecuted throughout the centuries, perhaps
because of their heritage. They are the results of the experiments
in Eden, Shem, successful results.’

Shem frowned. ‘I find that hard
to believe. We were sorely punished for interbreeding with
humanity.’

Gadreel nodded. ‘We were. That
is the injustice of it. What we did was illegal under Anu’s law,
but his own loyal Watchers were involved in clandestine breeding
experiments with select individuals from the tribes of the lower
plains. It was all done under controlled conditions, and I think
that few people, other than the higher echelons, knew about
it.’

Shem smiled bitterly. ‘Perhaps
we should have guessed. Our race is famed for its cabals within
cabals. It is typical that we were made scapegoats for a crime that
Anu was committing himself.’

Gadreel smiled ruefully.
‘Obviously, over the epochs, the original Kurds have interbred with
other races, which has diluted the blood, but certain individuals
in the tribes carry the genes of these ancient ancestors. I knew it
was important to re-establish these people as a nation, and the
best way to do that seemed through religion. The indigenous belief
systems have never faltered from the worship of the angels, and
because, deep inside, these people know what they are, it wasn’t
that difficult to reawaken the awareness and knowledge within
them.’

Salamiel was staring at her, as
if entranced. ‘And what is your aim now? To send your reawakened
armies out into the world and fight a holy war?’

Gadreel shook her head. ‘No,
that would be doomed to failure as all other attempts have failed.
My task is simply to make sure that all the Yarasadi are aware of
what they are, and that they have a special place in the future of
the world.’ She raised a closed fist before her face. ‘They must
take their ordained place amongst humanity. They are the leaders,
the guides. For too long, they have suffered persecution, and have
sought aid from other governments, but that is not the way for
them. We must gain access to the Chambers, for I believe that once
they are open, all the senseless bloodshed will cease. The eyes of
the world will be opened to the truth.’

‘A miracle,’ said Salamiel,
dryly.

‘Yes,’ Gadreel agreed.
‘Something of that type.’ She fixed Shem with steady eyes. ‘There
are four of us now. We must find the others.’

‘How many?’ Salamiel asked.

‘Our company should number
seven,’ Gadreel answered. ‘Of this I am sure. It is the sacred
number of the Yarasadi, and also of the Watchers. Once we have
formed this cabal, we shall be able to gain entrance to the
Chambers.’

‘But first we need to know
where they are,’ Daniel pointed out.

‘Don’t you know?’ Gadreel asked
Shem.

He shook his head. ‘No. I
haven’t thought about it yet, but I imagine they must be somewhere
near or in Kharsag.’

‘We need to find the key
first,’ Daniel said.

Gadreel frowned. ‘I had hoped
you would already be in possession of such an artefact.’

Shem tapped his lips
thoughtfully with steepled fingertips. ‘Perhaps this is where your
knowledge of this area will help, Gadreel. Daniel has received
information that the key will be found in a Cave of Treasures.’

Gadreel thought about this for
a moment. ‘There is a place known as the Cave of Treasures in these
mountains. I have heard of it, although never visited it. It is a
secret and holy shrine, to where adepts of the Yezidi have made
pilgrimages for centuries. Qimir should be able to offer more
guidance.’ She paused, then said, ‘Perhaps the entrance to the
Chambers will also be found at the cave.’

‘That’s possible,’ Shem agreed.
‘But what do we do first? Wait for or find our remaining three
cabal members, or go looking for the cave?’ He turned to Daniel.
‘Can you work on finding these other Grigori?’

Daniel nodded. He felt more
confident about his abilities now. ‘I’ll try.’ He shrugged. ‘It
seems likely that your brothers — and perhaps sisters — are already
looking for you.’

‘We shall speak with Qimir and
search for the cave,’ Gadreel said. ‘Why waste time? Once the
others find us, we should be ready for them.’

Babylon

The king of Babylon stood before the
great cedar wood table in the sunny cavern he called a study. He
was sifting through a pile of photographs, laid out before him. Tiy
the seeress sat nearby, upright on a chair, her fingers gripping
its arms. Nimnezzar had never seen her relax; she always seemed to
be straining forward against life.

Every day, the king’s daughter,
Sarpanita, had been led into the presence of Penemue. The Watcher
lord would not speak to her, but stared at her without blinking, as
if she was an exotic animal, tamed and purring before him. He
seemed content to gaze upon the princess. In turn, Sarpanita always
sat before him with eyes modestly downcast, a faint blush upon her
face. Nimnezzar suspected the two were somehow communicating, but
when he asked his daughter if this was so, she only shook her
head.

‘He gazes upon her for long
hours at a time,’ the king had confided to his wife in the privacy
of her bed-chamber. ‘What is going through his head? What has Tiy
said to you?’

The queen had stroked his chest,
resting her head upon her hand. Her shining hair had spilled down
upon him like the coils of a lamia. ‘Sarpanita has said nothing to
us. Perhaps she likes to sit there with his eyes upon her. For now,
it seems that nothing else of his will touch her.’ She had
laughed.

The king, annoyed that she made
light of such a matter, had begun to wonder whether a conspiracy of
women was involved in this scheme of silence.

He had summoned Tiy to his
study, intent on prising the truth from her, but what seemed
feasible as an idea now seemed unlikely in Tiy’s presence. Not for
the first time, Nimnezzar thought about how Tiy told him only so
much as she wanted him to know. Jazirah, his vizier, disapproved of
the apparent power that Tiy wielded at court, and often hinted that
the king should not be so lenient with either the seeress or the
queen. Nimnezzar sometimes hated and distrusted Tiy, but deep
within, he respected her age and her female strength. When she
deigned to help him unreservedly, her assistance was worth more
than the might of all his Magians. Amytis too, for all her slippery
guile, he admired. He knew that her loyalty to him was
unassailable, despite its selfish motives. Jazirah would not
understand or agree with these sentiments, therefore the king kept
silent about them. Jazirah had worked for Nimnezzar for many years,
yet was still unaware of the regular private meetings the king had
with Tiy, and how he sometimes acted upon her advice even when it
contradicted the vizier’s suggestions.

‘Tell me how my daughter
progresses,’ Nimnezzar said casually, arranging a set of
photographs in front of him. They were all images of the buried
city.

The old woman remained rigid,
her white eyes blinking. ‘She is shown to the angel lord at dawn
and dusk.’

‘This I know. Have they yet
communicated?’

Tiy shook her head. ‘He cannot
speak.’

Nimnezzar sighed. Even though
he was not looking at the old woman, he sensed smugness in her
words. He was impatient with the manner in which women seemed to
enjoy keeping secrets from men. He turned to look at her, but her
head was directed away from him, as if her sightless eyes watched
things he could not see in the corners of the room. ‘I was not
referring to speech,’ he said, ‘but a more subtle contact. I think
you are aware of what I mean. Tell me now; what transpires between
my daughter and the angel?’

Tiy turned her head towards
him, and he glanced away from her. The sight of those milk-pearl
eyes always made him uneasy, as if, lacking the power to see the
physical world, they could spy all too well into the human heart.
‘My Lord, I speak to the girl morn and night. Whatever occurs
between her and the angel lord, she cannot speak of it clearly.
This is not wayward behaviour on her part, but simply a human
inability to articulate matters beyond her understanding. Sarpanita
is a sensitive child, and neither I, nor anyone else, will profit
from bullying her to give more information.’

‘Do they commune through
thought?’

Tiy got to her feet and glided
across the room in the unerring and nimble manner that always made
Nimnezzar shudder. ‘More than that, I feel. Their language is that
of dreams and memories. Sometimes, when I question her, she murmurs
the name “Shemyaza”. I believe Penemue fills her mind with images
of his brother.’

Nimnezzar forced himself not to
take a step away from the old woman, even though the musty incense
smell of her voluminous robes filled his nostrils. ‘This Shemyaza,’
said the king, tapping the photographs thoughtfully with his
fingers. ‘In a way, he is Sarpanita’s spiritual father.’ He did not
expand further, confident that Amytis would have provided her aged
mentor with every detail of her relationship with her husband.

Tiy nodded. ‘Yes. It can be
seen that way.’

Nimnezzar knew Tiy was waiting
for him to say something; the words that would act as a key to the
lock upon her tongue. He had played this game in the past. ‘I am
building Shemyaza’s city for him,’ he murmured, more to himself
than to the woman. ‘Should I call him to me?’

‘In ages past, the Watchers
offered their divine seed to enrich the blood of the royal lines,’
Tiy said, nodding. ‘Penemue, in his prime, would have been a great
and powerful being. I have no doubt that should he once again unite
with his brother-king, his faculties would be restored. And if
Shemyaza has manifested in the world…’ She shook her head. ‘Great
king, you need him. It is unthinkable that the empire of Babylonia
could once again thrive without him!’

Nimnezzar forced himself to
stare into her face. He could detect no guile in her expression,
and yet… ‘There is something we have not yet considered. My Magian
priests have reminded me recently that in the form of the Peacock
Angel, Shemyaza is worshipped as a god by the wretched Yarasads! Is
it possible their adepts are as aware of Shemyaza’s manifestation
as we are? If so, with whom will he ally: those who have worshipped
him for millennia or Babylon, who seeks to recreate the sacred
empire of the past?’

Again, Tiy nodded. ‘Babylon has
stamped upon the worshippers of the Peacock Angel. This could be a
dilemma indeed!’ She grinned, displaying unnervingly strong teeth.
‘However, all is not lost. Whatever Shemyaza’s feelings on the
matter, I am sure that Babylon can bring him to her breast.’

‘Speak,’ said the king.

Tiy sighed patiently. ‘Since I came to
your court, I have pondered long upon how best you may realise your
ambitions. I made many journeys into the realm of spirit seeking
knowledge. I learned that until Shemyaza has reclaimed the wisdom
of his ancient ancestors, he will be virtually powerless in this
world. Now is the time to secure him, before his strength
waxes.’

Nimnezzar looked sceptical. ‘He
is the king of the fallen ones. Surely, his power will be
great?’

Tiy raised a finger. ‘Think of
Penemue and his condition. Shemyaza too has yet to regain his full
powers. You need him, Great King, because he has the power to rule
the world. You need that from him. Therefore, Shemyaza must be
brought to Babylon very soon, before he attains his strength.’

‘Where is he?’ Nimnezzar asked.
He had no doubt by now that Tiy knew the answer.

‘I believe Shemyaza is
searching for an ancient artefact of his people — an artefact that
you too could use. You will find him in the old land.’

Nimnezzar uttered an angry
snort. ‘With the Yarasadi!’ He punched the table-top with his
fists.

‘Yes, he will go to them. Their
prophet will have drawn him. Remember the name: Gadreel too was one
of the fallen ones.’

Nimnezzar now paced around the
table. ‘If Shemyaza is with the Yarasadi, it will be difficult to
find or capture him. The Yarasadi are lords of their terrain. I’m
unsure my men can best them in their own territory. There are too
many secret places in the mountains where they can hide. I have no
desire to waste my troops.’

Tiy followed him and laid a
hand upon his arm. ‘My sight can guide you into the secret places.
All you will need is a force of warrior-priests, a small one.’

The king glanced at her askance. Led by
a blind woman into hostile territories: was this the action of a
hero or a fool? ‘You know exactly where?’

Tiy smiled. ‘Oh, great king, do
not doubt what my eyes can see! In dreams, I have beheld a Cave of
Treasures, where the artefact Shemyaza seeks has lain for
millennia. Your Magians could never discover it, but Shemyaza will.
All that is required of you is faith and trust. Remember, it is the
way of human men to scorn the power of women, but do you not claim
the blood of angels runs in your veins? Honour and revere the power
of the female, Nimnezzar, if you would reclaim your heritage and
become a god-king!’