Shippou
Kitsune Trickster
So I'm guessing Antioch and Alexandria have had some issues recently?
Covenant: an Abrahamic Fantasy
- Thread starter ScottishMongol
- Start date
- Original Fantasy Alt. History
- Location
- Great Khanate of Scotland
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Nah they just don't rank as like, first-class holy cities. Jerusalem in Covenant is literally the center of the world and the most populous city on Earth, having a population of one million (djinn, ghouls, and all).
the Warlord
- Location
- Great Khanate of Scotland
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Chapter 18: the Warlord
It is the biggest thing to ever walk the Earth. Bigger than an elephant, bigger than a whale were it brought onto land. It looks massive even from the deck of the Aliyah, over a hundred feet in the air.
It is the Behemoth.
"The second Great Beast," Robert mutters, "Let's hope that's a good omen."
"If God is gracious, we'll see a third," Devorah replies, "We'll be passing near the place where the Ziz bird makes its nest."
"Behemoth," Moishe breathes.
The great beast has legs thicker around than the greatest tree on Earth, and its body is round like a barrel. Its weight must be immense, and the deep footprints it leaves in the hard earth are a testament to that.
Its head is blunt, with four curving tusks – two curving down from its upper jaw and two up from its lower jaw. It has thick, blubbery lips, and their purpose is obvious as its tears whole chunks off a tree growing near the banks of the Tigris.
"He must constantly be eating," Shabbar muses. Behemoth grumbles – a sound so loud that it can be heard from high the air, and certainly felt through the ground – and wades into the river. The water foams and rushes around his body, and Moishe can see the waves crashing over the banks as the Behemoth displaces so much water he causes the river to flood.
"My God," Devorah swears, "And I mean that sincerely!"
***
According to Devorah they are somewhere in Central Iran, in a nameless, arid desert valley. They had been making the final leg of the journey to the Kingdom of Prester John when a sandstorm had come down and grounded them. They had tried to secure the airship but the storm had only intensified, and now they are close to being stranded.
"We have to take down the gasbag!" Sarai yells over the howling wind.
Moishe clambers onto the deck of the airship, and Sarai nods at him through her improvised veil. Robert is yelling something, and Devorah shouts something back. Moishe can't tell if they're angry or just struggling to be heard over the wind.
"I said, there's someone out there!" Robert yells again, and this time Moishe can hear him.
"It's probably too much to ask if they're friendly?" Sarai yells. Deborah says something in return, too quiet to be heard over the storm.
Moishe stands next to Sarai at the railing, and Menander joins them a moment later. He's tied his ears back behind his head, the folds bunched up and secured with a leather thong. Though they flap in the wind, they at least are out of the way. He plucks the strong of his longbow worriedly.
"Teacher, the ship is secured!" Moishe yells. Shabbar groans and releases his grip on the anchor rope, and the airship slumps to one side. Sarai looks up, and sees the blackened sky showing hints of sunlight again - the sandstorm is dying down.
"How quickly can we get it up again?" she asks. She's noticed the sky as well, and is less than happy with being grounded. Devorah tugs at her sleeve.
"Captain, that sandstorm came and went far too quickly-"
"I know," she replies curtly. She can now see the silhouettes in the thinning sandstorm - there are dozens, some of them men on foot and others on horseback. Sarai hops down from the railing and takes a step forward to meet them, Robert and Shabbar at her sides. Moishe starts to follow her, then looks back over his shoulder and gasps in surprise.
"Teacher!"
All at once, the remains of the sandstorm are blown away by a strong wind, revealing the valley - bottled up at both ends by mobs of men. Robert swears and draws his sword, and Shabbar grunts in surprise. Menander scrambles for his arrows.
They are men of all types - Persians, Turks on horseback, Ghouls, Blemmyae wielding wicked-looking hooks and swords with serrated blades, and in the middle of them all is one of the Nephilim, a giant nearly as broad as he is tall, standing tall above the rest of the soldiers. He hooks his thumbs in a broad golden belt - all four of them, for he has two thumbs on each hand - and laughs.
"Har har! What have we here? That's a strange ship to be so far from the sea!"
"Who are you?" Sarah asks shortly. The obvious leader of the motley crew laughs again.
"Har! I'm Benob the Six-fingered! Though they also call me...Benob the Warlord."
He bares a set of square, blackened teeth, and his men send up a chorus of laughs.
"Don't turn your back on them," Robert whispers, "But start backing up towards the ship."
Devorah nudges his side and points at a series of dark holes in the sheer cliffs that enclose the valley.
"Look at those caves. If we'd noticed those before, we could've sheltered in them."
"We need to get the ship in the air, teacher!" Moishe whispers plaintively. Benob grunts.
"Hold on, now! None of you make a move! We've got two hundred on our side, and well, I can count all of you on one hand. Har!"
He strides forward, grinning through a tangled beard.
"Now...what's a ship doing in the middle of the desert?" he asks again, "And why's it got that fancy bundle o' canvas on top?"
Sarai remains quiet. Benob shakes his head in disappointment.
"Now really, if that's some sort of fancy machine...I'll want to know all about it."
"What business of yours is it?" Sarah asks, crossing her arms. The short woman takes a step forward, as if trying to stare down the eight-foot giant.
"Har! I'm one of the line of the Watchers! It's my business to know what's being done with the knowledge they shared with us mortals...and to make sure it stays in the right hands."
"Those hands wouldn't happen to have six fingers on them, would they?" Sarah asks.
"Har! Sure, and why not? We're the descendants of the ones who taught it to you - and now look what you've done with it! No, the only people who should be forging metal and casting spells should be the ones with the blood of the angels in them - meaning that ship is mine by right, and you're going to tell me how it works."
Sarai stares him down. Robert snarls and hefts his shield.
"Captain, let me teach this one a lesson. I hear knights are supposed to slay cruel giants."
Sarai remains motionless. Then, she takes a deep breath.
"Moishe...get the ship in the air."
Benob sighs and waves a hand.
"Alright then, have it your way."
"That's an order, Moishe! DO IT NOW!"
Several things happen at once.
The first thing that happens is that a human, previously unnoticed in the crowd of bandits, steps forward with a large jar in his arms. It is made of clay, has words in an undecipherable script inscribed around the rim, and has an elaborate seal. The magician cracks open the seal, and Shabbar lets out a despairing cry as he begins to dissolve into smoke, which is then sucked into the jar in the space of a few seconds. The geniebinder - for that is what he is - seals the jar and cackles.
The second thing that happens is that two hundred bandits wielding every type of nasty-looking weapon imaginable surge across the craggy earth, and Robert swings his sword and yells a battle cry, Menander starts firing off arrows, and Sarah and Moishe run for the ship.
The third thing that happens is that Devorah, who has stayed on the ship, spins the valve that releases hot air into the gasbag. The ship bucks and strains at its anchor lines, and Devorah draws a knife and runs to the front of the ship to cut them.
Things become quite chaotic after that.
***
Robert snarls and swings his sword in a wide arc, leaving a spray of blood hanging in the air, along with the screams of the wounded. It's been a while since he was a proper battle, and his sword and blood are both singing.
The bandits are everywhere, and as he turns in a circle he finds that they've gotten behind him. Moishe whimpers in fear and cowers against him, swinging that damned walking stick of his, trying to fend off a Ghoul.
"Come on, lad, swing it like you mean to hurt someone!"
Wishing Shabbar was here, Robert swings his shield and bashes the Ghoul in the face, and Moishe takes the opportunity to smack the Ghoul's arm with his staff. There's a crack and the Ghoul drops his sword and dances back out of reach.
"There you go!"
The giant – Robert swears that if he gets out of this alive there'll be a reckoning – laughs again and starts walking towards them.
"I want the alchemist alive!"
Sarai hisses and digs something out of her bag, pitching it with impressive force at the giant's face. The giant raises a hand to bat it aside, and howls with pain as it shatters, splashing acid onto his hand.
"Oh, you are a bold one!" Benob says venomously. Robert feels a surge of what is perhaps pride for his Captain.
"Right, I'm ordering everyone to get to the ship and get it in the air!" Sarah yells as she digs into her bag again.
"But Captain-"
"Teacher!"
"I said I'm ORDERING IT! Get it in the air as soon as possible!"
Menander, who was hanging back with his bow, turns and runs for the ship. Robert slings his shield over his back and grabs Moishe's arm.
"Let's go, boy!"
"But, Sarai-!"
"Dammit, she knows what she's doing!"
Unfortunately, Robert finds the way barred by a wall of swords and spears. He swings his sword in a wide arc to fend them off, and casts his eyes around.
He sees the caves set in the cliffs overlooking the valley, and more importantly sees that there are far fewer bandits between him and the caves than there are between him and the ship.
"Moishe, let's go!"
"But the ship!"
"God help me, shut up and run!"
He shoves Moishe forward, then spins around and crosses blades with a Belmmyae wielding a saw-edged sword. The serrated edge hooks his longsword and tugs it aside, but Robert punches the Blemmyae square between its eyes and turns to run after Moishe.
He catches up to the alchemist at the mouth of the cave. Robert leans against the cliff and pants for air.
"We can hold them here, for a while. How deep do you think the cave goes?"
"Pretty deep, probably. Devorah says these parts are home to marans - snake people."
"Well, let's see if they're home, shall we?"
As they journey into the cave, Robert takes out a small charm and starts whispering a spell. A moment later, light flares from the charm and drives away the gloom of the cave. Robert looks around suspiciously, while Moishe watches his back.
Then, Robert hears a small twang, and he looks down and sees that his boot has tripped a nearly-invisible wire. The cave is filled with a cracking sound, dust starts to fall from the ceiling, and with a tremendous crash the mouth of the cave starts to collapse.
"Holy Mother of God!"
***
Devorah watches Menander climb onto the ship and snatch up another arrow.
"I want that ship!" Benob bellows. Menander looses his bow, and another bandit topples from the railing. Menander is just one man though, and soon more are clambering over the side. Devorah hesitates at the final anchor line, waiting to see if the others make it through.
A bandit starts climbing over the railing, and Devorah stabs the bandit's hand, causing him to hop away, cursing.
"We need to get this ship in the air!" Menander says as he is forced to lunge back away from a thrust spear.
Devorah hesitates, knife hovering over the taut line.
"She gave us an order! If they take the ship then nobody can help her!"
Menander starts to pitch crates of gear over the side. With a grunt he heaves Sarai's alchemy kit over the edge, and the Aliyah bucks like a horse eager to start a race. Devorah lets out a strangled sob and cuts the line, and the airship starts to drift. She runs to the tiller and looks across the valley. She can no longer see any of the others - the giant seems to be withdrawing with a clump of bandits, while another bunch are near the cliffs at the edge of the valley, around a plume of dust. She can, however, see a large number of bandits, all making for the ship eagerly. One just barely misses a trailing line as the Aliyah rises into the air rapidly, the sudden ascent knocking Menander and Devorah off-balance, and they can only stare over the edge as the valley vanishes below, the figures fading into distant specks.
The two of them are alone with the ship.
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- Location
- Here & There
What a devastating cliffhanger. Our friends are abandoned to bandits and faced into a land of snake people.
- Location
- The observable universe
Snake peoples? Hmmmm Wonder who they are
- Location
- Great Khanate of Scotland
- Pronouns
- She/Her
The Shahmaran (or "Queen of Serpents") is the subject of an old folk tale common in Perisa, Armenia, and Kurdistan. The Shahmaran is the albino queen of a race of half-human half-serpents who live underground.
Apart
- Location
- Great Khanate of Scotland
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Chapter 19: Apart
Robert and Moishe are both covered with dust and sweat, and Moishe is bleeding from a gash on his leg. The two of them dig through the rubble choking the mouth of the cave.
"Christ, this is getting us nowhere," Robert says, spitting out a mouthful of spit thickened with dust. He steps away from the rubble and leans against the wall.
Moishe continues to dig, eyes wild with desperation.
"You're bleeding," Robert says, "Come here and I'll fix that."
Moishe looks at him, tears springing into his eyes.
"But...Sarai! The others!"
Robert sighs and gently wraps an arm around Moishe's shoulders, gently but firmly guiding him deeper into the cave. He's been worried about another cave-in since he so carelessly tripped the wire, and he thinks further digging may just hasten a second collapse.
"Your teacher can take care of herself. She's a tough woman. As for the others..."
His jaw tightens, and he helps Moishe sit down.
"Let's take a look at this," he says. The gash isn't so deep, but he still pulls something from his belt and presses it against the cut as he recites an incantation. The cut closes itself up in moments.
"There, simple healing spell," Robert says, and the two of them sit with their backs to opposite sides of the tunnel. Robert produces a wineskin from somewhere and takes a swig to wash out his mouth, then another for good measure. Moishe rubs his leg before drawing his knees up to his chest and sulking. His staff lies next to him.
"You sure do keep that thing close," Robert says, jerking his chin at it.
"It was a gift from my rabbi."
"What, is it a magic wand?"
"Not magic. Holy."
Robert nods.
"Ah, genuine miracles. I wouldn't know anything about that."
Moishe is pretty sure Robert is lying, but before he can press the knight on that, Robert sighs.
"Can it unblock tunnels?"
Moishe shakes his head.
"I don't think it works like that."
"Thought so. I lost all my materials too. I can...make light, do some basic healing, put out a fire, and if we need water I can probably improvise a dowsing rod. Give me a lock of your hair and I could make some countercurse charm. Other than that...do we need any livestock cured of disease?"
"Not that I can think of, but I'll let you know if it comes up," Moishe laughs bitterly.
"Thought so," Robert says again. He chuckles.
The two sit in silence for a while, Moishe trying to work up the nerve to ask Robert what he knows about miracles, when the knight suddenly sits up.
"Shh. Something's coming."
The two snatch up their weapons and stagger to their feet. Robert raises his glowing charm, and from deeper in the cave the two hear the rustling of scales on stone.
"Sounds like somebody's come to check on their guests," Robert mutters.
From out of the gloom slithers a pack of maran. From the waist up they are human - women, in fact, with braided hair and bronze skin, and armor chased with silver - but from the bottom down they only have the long, winding, sinuous bodies of snakes, green and black and brown. They all carry wicked-looking polearms.
"Hello," says their leader, who rises up on her tail, her head almost touching the roof of the tunnel, "We're going to have to ask you put down your weapons and come with us."
The other maran crowd around, leveling their weapons to create a picket of deadly blades. Robert and Moishe look at each other and sigh.
"Look like they want us to stay a while," Robert says, and flips his sword around, offering the hilt to the leader. She accepts his surrender and motions the other guards forward.
"A wise move. Take them to the queen."
***
Benob the Warlord has ordered his men to move camp. They march out of the valley where they laid their ambush and pitch their tents in a shallow depression. There are some wells nearby, and on a rise above the camp is a statue raised by some ancient Persian king - a winged bull with the face of a man. It is partially ruined, but its imperious gaze looks down on the bandits as they draw water and dig latrines.
The giant hauls Sarai unceremoniously to the largest tent and shoves her inside.
"You can stay here until you're willing to cooperate," he snarls, and stalks off to oversee the camp. Sarah can tell he's upset that the ship escaped his grasp, and only her value in building a new one has prevented her from being harmed.
Once she's alone, Sarai lets out groan of frustration and rocks back and forth on her heels thoughtfully. The Djinn is somewhere in the camp, thanks to that cursed geniebinder, but the others...well, they could be anywhere. She's quite confident in their abilities, so there is always the chance they could see to themselves and come rescue her.
The thought almost rankles her. As the captain, she hates the idea that she needs rescuing.
"Come on, Sarai, you're a professional alchemist, you can get yourself out of this!" she says, slamming her fist into her palm. She starts pacing the tent, looking skeptically at the chairs and desks that have been set up.
If worst came to worst, she could always build herself a second ship and escape on that. Sarai bat Binyamin was always the kind to make things happen herself rather than sit around and wait for them to happen to her.
If she can, she'd like to find the rest of the crew...but for now, her mind is already working on a plan to, at the very least, get her out of captivity.
***
It is very dark in the jar. Shabbar, through senses and movements known only to Djinn, lurks in the darkest corners and broods. He is currently in the gaseous form which his kind may take when desired - or when forced, as the case may be. Whatever process of the mind the Djinn uses to bind a cloud of vapors into a thinking entity is still fully aware of the circumstances of its imprisonment. Far more than mere clay, the jar is graven with magical wards that keeps the Djinn in this form and prevents him from escaping unless the jar is opened.
Being captured and bound in a jar is one of the worse fates a Djinn could face. Oh, how Shabbar loathes geniebinders!
Still, Djinn do not die natural deaths. Shabbar is very patient, and is willing to wait a very, very long time. No human master lives forever, and sooner or later the jar will be opened - perhaps by that geniebinder, which would provide a most welcome reckoning. If not the geniebinder, then eventually the jar will be open. Shabbar can afford to wait.
Still, he thinks, the others will probably have need of him far before that happens. So while he can wait, he would, for the sake of his companions, prefer not to.
***
Menander frets at the prow of the Aliyah.
"We have to go back," Devorah says. She grabs the tiller and starts to turn the ship about.
"Wait!" Menander says, and to his surprise Devorah actually pauses and glares at him.
"Wait for what?"
Menander pauses.
"I mean, they'll be ready for us. Wouldn't it be better if we…waited?"
Devorah takes her hand off the tiller and walks towards the Panoti.
"Oh, I see," she says casually, "You mean if we lie in wait until, say, tonight or tomorrow, they'll let their guard down."
"Yes! I mean…"
He pauses, trying to figure out how to convince Devorah to leave the others.
Suddenly, Devorah slams Menander back against the rail. She forces him to lean backwards out over the edge, his head hanging hundreds of feet above the ground, his ears flapping in the strong wind.
"You were going to sell us out, you son of a bitch!" she yells, pressing her knife against his throat. He makes a strangled choking sound and grabs the rail for support.
"Y-you don't understand, nobody was going to get hurt-"
"No, of course not, you were just going to sell this ship to...who, I wonder? The highest bidder? Or are you working for someone?"
"I have no idea what-"
Again, Devorah cuts him off.
"You're a bad liar, Menander, and I should know, I've met enough of them. Who are you working for!?"
"I - ack! I work for my uncle! I swear, nobody was going to get hurt."
"I ought to toss you off this ship-"
"Please, don't!"
"Then tell me why!"
"Because this is all I have!"
A moment passes as Devorah stares into his eyes. The succubus takes a deep breath and steps away, shoving Menander to the deck.
"Thank you, Devorah, I knew you wouldn't kill me!"
"Shut up," she says, wiping her eyes, "I need your bow."
"My bow?" Menander asks. Devorah looks back over her shoulder as she turns to put her hand on the tiller.
"Unlike you, I have loyalty. I have friends, somewhere out there. They're counting on me, and I'm going to help them because God knows I've counted on them time and again. Now, I don't care if you're a coward or a traitor, you're going to come with."
She pauses.
"I'm the only one of the original crew left. That means I'm in charge."
"That's right, you're in charge," Menander says, getting shakily to his feet.
"Good. Then my first order is to get ready, because we're going back for the rest of the crew."
The Aliyah lurches and starts a wide arc, heading back the way she came.
***
Sarai looks around the tent. There is a desk, some shelves, and a scattered collection of alchemy materials and gear. She sniffs distastefully.
"It'll have do..."
Benob sits down on a stool the size of a tree stump, his bulk taking up half the room even in this spacious tent, and rubs salve onto his acid-burned hand. He growls and clenches the hand into a fist.
"It better do. I put in a lot of work capturing you, and I still want a ship like yours."
Sarai turns around.
"What does a Nephilim need with a flying ship anyway? I thought you hated innovation."
"Har! A common mistake made by our enemies. We simply wish to take the forbidden knowledge out of the hands of mortals, who cannot be trusted with it. No, you will teach me to make the ship, and then I will be the one to hold the secret, and then...well, we shall see what I can do with it. As for what I know...I am a master smith and craftsmen, so I will make the new ship myself using your instructions. Metalworking, you see, was taught to humanity by the Watchers, who fathered the first Nephilim. That knowledge is mine to possess, as it is my duty to rule over lesser beings."
Sarai narrows her eyes. Her profile of the warlord is already starting to form. His confidence in his abilities...well, it rivals her own. However, she suspects that the self-professed master may have some gaps in his knowledge that she can exploit. For example, she's fairly sure he doesn't know exactly how flight works...
"I'll need to distill the fuel, first," she says, sniffing dismissively. The giant raises his eyebrows.
"Fuel?"
"Of course. It needs an explosive material to propel it fast enough to get off the ground. Surely you've heard of rockets?"
She tries not to hold her breath.
"Ah yes, rockets. Childish entertainment, I thought they were used for..."
"Well obviously I've found a more efficient use for them!" she snaps. The giant half-rises, and for a second Sarai thinks that she's played up her pride too much, but instead he points at the desk.
"There's writing materials there. You can make a list of whatever you need, and I'll have my men track it down. Whatever it takes to get that ship."
With that, he heaves his bulk out of the tent flap and disappears into the night.
Sarai sighs and pulls a piece of parchment towards her and starts to write. It should be fairly easy for her to get her hands on what she needs - sulfur, charcoal, and saltpeter are among the more common substances...
- Location
- Here & There
Time for explosions and Snake meetings.
Just finished reading, and I have to say this is a great story with great worldbuilding. I especially like how it explores aspects of Jewish history and folklore I simply never knew about (like the wolf association with the Tribe of Benjamin). I look forward to seeing what other cool aspects of Abrahamic mythology are going to appear, and how the Aliyah crew manage to get out of this jam.
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
I really like this - a nice stylistic and worldbuilding touch that also reflects the limitations and flaws of the characters in question.
...which is to say, a Catholic ritual.
ninjastar
(Verified Taoist Immortal)
- Location
- Your mom's house
This is very good, the style reminds me of the odyssey, and the use of Abrahamic mythology is fairly unique. My only issue is that the pacing seems excessively fast, it could do with more fleshing out, to give the reader more time to learn about and identify with the characters. Overall 8.5/10.
- Location
- Great Khanate of Scotland
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Thank you, that was definitely an inspiration!
Thanks for reading and giving feedback, I'll keep that in mind!
In the Caves of the Shahmaran
- Location
- Great Khanate of Scotland
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Chapter 20: In the Caves of the Shahmaran
Robert and Moishe keep stumbling over rocks as they are led down, deeper into the caverns of the snake people. Robert has noted that all the guards seem to be women, and indeed it is quite a while before he saw a snake man. He guesses, as they passed through the more inhabited part of the cave system, that the maran are matriarchal, with the more powerful and aggressive women taking on leadership and security roles. Men are probably reduced to domestic work.
He's fairly sure he can find his way out again. Fairly sure. The tunnels all seem to slope down, it shouldn't be difficult to simply find a way back up again...
Moishe keeps looking at the maran at the head of the party, the one who was selected by her commander to carry their gear. Moishe's staff is there, in a bundle with Robert's sword and shield. He keeps making vaguely distressed noises as well.
Even Robert's breath is taken away by the cavern they are led into at last. Carved from greenish stone, the chamber is the size of a small cathedral, and the whole space is suffused with an eerie greenish light. It feels only faintly real. Curls of grey smoke rise from incense burners to shroud the ceiling, making the cavern seem like it extends up forever - possibly an intentional choice.
In the center of the chamber is a stone platform covered in pure white silks and cushions. Lounging on it, her long tail piled in coils and draped over the edge of the platform, is the ruler of this mysterious domain. Her tail has to be twenty feet long and covered in scales white as marble, but her body, from the waist up at least, is that of a young woman. Her eyes are pale pink and her skin is almost as white as the silks that she lies upon. She wears a shimmering silver gown, and on her head is an elaborate headdress of gold and green.
"Bow before the Shahmaran, the Queen of All Serpents!"
Robert half-falls to one knees and is half-pushed. Next to him, Moishe is pushed to his knees by the guard.
The Shahmaran is lying on her back, but at the guard's voice she rolls over onto her front, propping her head up on her hands. She blinks at them lazily and smiles.
"Ooh, who are they?" she asks, her lips quirking in a curious smile.
"Intruders from the surface, your majesty. They triggered one of our border snares."
The Shahmaran slithers from her pedestal, an unnerving motion as her tail slowly uncoils and follows her.
"They're interesting, to be sure..."
She circles around them, her tail completely encircling the two prisoners.
The Shahmaran slithers in closer, her pale eyes inspecting Robert.
"I think this one's handsome!"
The head of the guards clears her throat.
"Your majesty, we really should question them and process them. They came armed into your domains and-"
"How boring! Have they been cooperating?"
"Yes, of course-"
"Good, then there's no reason to worry. Tell me stranger, how'd you like to stay here for a while?"
Robert looks at the other maran. He can see the looks of distrust on their faces bordering on hostility, all directed at him – clearly, they've dealt with their queen's capriciousness before, and are willing to entertain her, if not the subjects of her...interests. He guesses that they want to get rid of him just as much as he wants to leave. All he has to do is convince the queen that he cannot stay with her...
"I'm sorry, your majesty, but I really do have a duty to uphold elsewhere. You see, our friends are in trouble, and if you'll let us go then-"
In a blur of white, the Shahmaran turns away from them and speeds back to her bed.
"Boring! Throw them in a cell until they cooperate."
Robert and Moishe start to shout protests before they are caught in the powerful coils of the guards and dragged away from the court of the Queen of Serpents.
***
Moishe paces. They could have been in the caves of the serpent people for an hour or for an entire day - there's no way to tell without a glimpse of sunlight.
The cell is twenty paces long, and Moishe knows because he's counted them many, many times. The cell is lined with cots, and Robert lies on his back on one of them, hands folded under his head, staring at the ceiling.
"Do you have any ideas how to get out of here?" Moishe snaps as he turns around for perhaps the fiftieth time. Robert shrugs.
"Do you?"
That brings the apprentice to a halt. All they have to do is find a way to break out of the cell, then make their way through the labyrinth of tunnels, find their weapons, avoid or overpower every serpent they meet on their way, get to the surface...
"Step one is probably opening the door, right?"
"If you like."
Moishe halfheartedly pushes at the door. It is sturdy, made of solid iron, with bolts set deep into the living rock on either side. He's heard there is magic for unlocking doors, but surely even an iron bolt would resist a magical nudge like that...
"You're awfully calm about this," Moishe says grumpily as he leans against the door. Robert sighs.
"I know when I'm beat. Sometimes luck runs out."
"Luck? Who cares about luck! We can't end things here, not when the others need us! Where's your faith?"
Robert shifts on his cot.
"...What do you know about faith, Moishe?"
Moishe is silent. He has faith, in a lot of things. In Hashem, in his teacher, in his allies. But he feels like Robert means something deeper.
"You remember how I used to be a Knight Templar, right?"
Moishe nods.
"Right. Well, I was one of the best. A real champion of the faith. I smited the evildoer. I slew a dragon, I even, uh...performed miracles."
Moishe sits down on the cot across from Robert, resting his hands on his knees and leaning forward.
"Miracles? Like, real ones?"
"Yes. Like...alright. Once we were on this mission to Zazamanc, which is this little Christian kingdom in North Africa. It was wartime, and we were supposed to protect a monastery from the fighting. Well, we made a mistake. Our path got cut off by the conflict, and we made the decision to cut across a stretch of totally barren desert."
Robert sighs and sits up.
"I don't know if you've ever been lost in the desert. There this point where you think, it's too late to turn back now, we're so low on food and water that we'll run out if we turn back, but at least if we go forward, we have a hope of finding more. We'd passed that point a while ago.
Now, we were wizard-knights. Templars. But we can't magic up food and water from nothing. Find water? We could've done that. Tried a couple times. We didn't have any rituals strong enough to pull up rain, though.
A human can go three days without water, or so I hear. On the second night, I told myself that we weren't going to die. There's no way God's plan ended with a pile of sun-bleached bones and sand-scoured armor.
At the end of the day, what is the difference between magic and a miracle? We ask the Lord to do something, and he does it. Sometimes we buttress that with the proper rituals, but does God really need all the extra steps? No, perhaps at the end of the day, the ritual is for us. All we really have to do is ask."
There is a long pause.
"It took us a minute to hear it, but sure enough, there was the sound of running water, springing up from a crack in the rocks. And mana fell from the sky like snow, Moishe, I swear to God."
Robert is silent, starting at the wall.
"That's it?" Moishe asks breathlessly.
"That's all it was."
Moishe nods.
"What happened to you?" Moishe asks, a little thoughtlessly. Robert glares at him.
"You know what happened. The Inquisition found...things. About the Knights Temple. About the Cult of Baphomet."
Moishe is silent. The cult of the Archdevil had infiltrated the highest ranks of the Knights Templar, and had been gathering holy relics for…something. They had been found out when the Inquisition had tracked the Head of John the Baptist to their headquarters. The order had been disbanded, its property broken up. And knights like Robert had been left adrift, disgraced.
"That was the worst part of it. That miracle in the desert...what had it been in purpose of? What had anything I'd done been in purpose of? Just to further the goals of some vile Diabolists. There was nothing a soiled knight like me had to offer to any holy cause again. And that's where I am today."
Robert is silent again, and Moishe feels that he isn't going to get anything else out of the knight.
Moishe stares at the ceiling. Right now, it certainly seems like they could use a miracle.
He recalls, or seems to recall, a story he had heard from Rabbi Eleazar.
You know, Moishe, when Moses was told to raise his arms and part the Red Sea so that the Jews could escape Pharaoh's army, nothing happened at first. He raised his arms, but the sea didn't split! You can understand that this was rather upsetting to the Jews. They thought they were all doomed. But there was an Israelite, Nachshon - no, this a Midrash, don't interrupt. Nachshon started walking into the sea! He had faith, Moishe.
So, Nachshon walks into the sea. It rises up past his knees, his waist, up to his chest. It rises up past his neck. Just as the waves were about to close over his nostrils - the sea parted! And well, you know the rest. The moral, Moishe, is that sometimes, faith means you just have to jump right in. Hashem will do the rest.
Moishe looks at the door. Sometimes, you just have to jump right in...
Adonai, our friends need us. We need this door to open and for the snakes to let us pass unharmed.
"What are you doing?" Robert asks. Moishe feels another presence in the prison cell, like someone is there with him, looking over his shoulder.
He presses his hand against the door, and with a clangclangclang! it pops off its hinges, hangs there for a moment, and falls out into the hallway. The ringing of the iron door echoes up and down the hallways and tunnels.
"How did you do that?" Robert asks. Moishe turns to look at him, but the knight shakes his head and stands up.
"Never mind, don't answer that! Don't think about it, just keep going!"
The two run out into the hallway, looking around for signs of guards. Moishe is first to see one, and he tugs on Robert's sleeve. Thirty feet away from them is one of the serpent women, lying curled up in the hallway, her head resting on one of her coils. Her spear is lying on the floor next to her.
"No way she would have slept through that," Robert whispers.
Moishe looks at his hand. Yes, he was the one who touched the door...but he knows that there was someone else in that cell with him the person who actually broke the lock, and who cast a veil of sleep over the serpentfolk. If not Hashem himself...an Angel? Moishe shakes his head.
"It's a miracle," he replies. The knight smiles and claps him on his back.
"Good man. Got any ideas where we can find our gear?"
- Location
- PA
...That Queen somehow gave me the impression of someone who deals in recreational medicines. I blame the mention of incense and my unfamiliarity with hookas.
As for Robert...
I would argue that even if his masters fed him lies, and sent him on missions from the bowels of hell, he personally acted and believed as if he was a true Christian. And that's assuming he was not known as a true believer, and thus gave him the appropriate missions.
Even if his missions was unjust, God still saw fit to grant him salvation in that desert.
But I can also hear him scoff at my sentiments, and I'm unequipped to argue the point further.
As for Robert...
I would argue that even if his masters fed him lies, and sent him on missions from the bowels of hell, he personally acted and believed as if he was a true Christian. And that's assuming he was not known as a true believer, and thus gave him the appropriate missions.
Even if his missions was unjust, God still saw fit to grant him salvation in that desert.
But I can also hear him scoff at my sentiments, and I'm unequipped to argue the point further.
EBR
Self-Requested Ban
- Location
- Khazaria
It occurs to me that a matriarchal culture is more likely to underestimate the danger of a couple of wandering men because it's not used to thinking of men as dangerous, much the way that a patriarchal culture is more likely to see a couple of armed female travelers as harmless while a couple of armed male travelers are more likely to be considered bandits.
Of course a matriarchal culture is more likely to behave like a patriarchal one in terms of taking advantage of travelers belonging to the subordinate gender sexually...
Good christian fellow, protecting his virtue from the heathen.
I was curious so I googled this, apparently Zazamanc is from the poem Parzival.
I remember being taught this midrash in Hebrew school! You really did your research @ScottishMongol .
Together
- Location
- Great Khanate of Scotland
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Chapter 21: Together
Moishe peers up at the night sky. It's turned a dark navy blue, and the stars are coming out. Only a thin pale part of the western sky shows vanishing daylight.
"It had to have been late afternoon when we left. Do you think we slept too long?" Moishe asks. Robert shakes his head and finishes packing their things.
"I'm fairly sure we were split up yesterday afternoon. Sleeping was good, there's no way we can do this without it."
Moishe crawls over the lip of the ravine and looks at the warlord's camp, only visible by a constellation of campfires and torches.
"Is there a plan?"
"Yeah. I'm going in."
"Alone?"
Robert shrugs.
"If you can think of a distraction, be my guest. Got any other miracles up your sleeve?"
Moishe shakes his head.
"I basically passed out once we got out of those caves, I don't think I can handle that again. But..."
Moishe points at the shadowy bulk overlooking the camp, the statue of a winged bull with a man's head.
"I did listen to Rabbi Eleazar talk about golems a lot..."
***
"How's the work coming?" Benob asks. Once again, his massive bulk fills half the tent. Sarai sniffs and turns on her heel.
"Yes, yes, this was...very good work. Your men were able to scrounge this up quickly. And I had all the right proportions."
Benob smiles broadly, showing crooked and blackened teeth.
"I give the orders, and my lieutenants figure out the best way to carry it out. This is why Benob is the most feared warlord in eastern Persia!"
Sarai ignores him and heads over to her work table. She licks her lips and, with hands trembling, grabs the large cask and starts measuring out gunpowder into the egg-shaped iron containers she ordered made. For a giant, Benob really was a skilled metalworker, and he made them exactly to her specifications.
"What are you doing now?" Benob asks, looking over her shoulder. She mutters a quick prayer and hefts one of the little eggs, stuffing a wick inside the mouth.
"This is just a...a method I have. For measuring."
"Is that so?"
Sarai swallows nervously, gathering up the little bombs. The giant may not be as smart as he thinks, but he's clever. She turns to look at him, and just at that moment someone at the edge of the camp screams.
***
Moishe huffs and pulls himself onto the statue's back. He clings to its neck and looks at the camp - it doesn't seem as if anyone's seen him.
"Alright, well, I've never done anything like this before..."
He unrolls a length of parchment and picks up a stub of charcoal. He's watched the Rabbi make enough golems, and seen enough demonstrations, that he's reasonably sure he knows all the right things to include, but the tricky thing about golems is that they always do exactly what they're told. The instructions need to be careful, with not a word out of place, and doing them in a hurry can easily lead to a mistake creeping in...
Moishe finishes with large letters that spell the Hebrew word for "life". He then plasters the scroll to the back of the golem's head. It's the weakest enchantment he can think of, as anyone who can climb onto the golem's back can simply tear it off, but it should work.
"This is probably the dumbest thing any apprentice has ever done..." he mutters as the whole statue rumbles, dislodging a shower of dust and pieces of loose rubble as it lifts one giant hoofed leg and takes its first steps towards the warlord camp.
***
The camp is erupting into shouts and screams. Men are calling for weapons and Sarai can see people rushing by the tent, silhouetted against the canvas walls, backlit by torches and campfires. She turns and looks at the giant warlord, who snarls and heaves himself to his feet, his shoulders pressing against the roof of the tent, pulling it from its tentpegs.
"Your friends?"
The two of them lock eyes. He cracks his knuckles.
"You won't be getting away, though. I'll break your legs, and then deal with your friends, and then we'll see about getting me that ship."
"Wait," she says, and the giant narrows his eyes, "I wanted to show you how these work."
The two stare at each other for the space of a heartbeat, then Sarai picks up a candle and uses it to light the wick.
"...catch."
She lobs the bomb at the giant, underhand, and then she knocks over the work table and throws herself behind it to shield herself from the explosion.
***
Men are calling for weapons and running towards the far end of the camp.
"Damn you, Moishe, don't get yourself hurt out there," Robert snarls. He stalks between the tents, past a row of nervous horses. So far nobody's seen him, but if they were to spot him there's a decent chance that in his current filthy and ragged appearance he could be mistaken for one of the bandit horde.
He spots a man in robes and covered in precious-looking jewelry step out of a tent. The rings on his fingers glitter in the firelight as he pulls back the tentflap and look in the direction of the commotion. Somewhere, Robert hears a loud bang, as if someone set off a gun or a small cannon.
The geniebinder starts and looks around, locking eyes with Robert. The knight snarls and charges forward, tackling the man backwards into his tent. He claps a hand over the geniebinder's mouth and shoves him to the ground.
"Right, where's the Djinn?"
The geniebinder's eyes roll wildly, but Robert looks up and sees a small camp table with a jar sitting on it. Inscribed around the rim of the jar is some binding spell written in an obscure language. Robert smiles, knees the geniebinder in the stomach, and stands up, grabbing the jar and cracking its seal.
Smoke billows from the mouth of the jar, and in a rush of wind, the smoke forms into the shape of Shabbar. The Djinn blinks and looks around in confusion. Robert smiles and clears his throat.
"Welcome back, Shabbar."
The Djinn blinks, then smiles and bows.
"It's a surprise to be back so soon."
"Yes, well, I needed your help, you see," Robert says, a bit awkwardly. Shabbar suddenly registers the commotion and roaring of an enraged Benob, and grins.
"Well, I would be more than happy to help you out."
As the two turn towards the, Shabbar treads on the geniebinder's hand. The magician whimpers, and Shabbar looks down.
"Ah. You."
Robert pulls back the tent flap and looks back at the Djinn.
"You need a moment?"
Shabbar cracks his knuckles.
"I'll be quick."
***
Sarai slips between two tents and pulls up short as a gang of armed bandits rush past her. Behind her, Benob is yelling in pain and anger, demanding his men find the alchemist and fetch her back alive or dead. On the other end of the camp, she can see the giant statue trampling tents and men. Bandits fruitlessly attempt to climb it, only to be shaken off as the statue charges again, its stone feet shaking the ground.
"Moishe!?" she yells as she sees her apprentice clinging to its back.
"Teacher!" he shouts back, "Oh, thank the Lord that you're alive!"
Someone points and shouts, and a small group of bandits turn and charge at her. Sarai growls and snatches up a torch, reading a bomb in her other hand.
"Moishe, you foolish boy, what are you doing up there!? This is what comes from listening to that rabbi, I swear to-"
Before she can finish her sentence, a bandit comes flying through the air and lands on the ground in front of her. Robert and Shabbar come charging through a moment later, slamming into the gang of bandits running at Sarai. Shabbar punches one bandit and sends them flying backwards over the heads of his comrades, who back up a moment later as Robert wades in with his sword.
"What ho, Miss Sarai!" Shabbar yells. Sarai steps forward and lights the bombs.
"Duck!"
The Robert and the Djinn both duck behind the knight's shield as the bomb sails over their heads and lands in the middle of the bandit pack. The explosion sends several of them sprawling, and the three of them rush past the stunned or injured bandits and head for the statue.
"Good job boys, I was just about to come find you," Sarai says coolly. Robert smiles and salutes her with his sword.
"I could much say the same. Though we have to thank Moishe for the distraction."
"Right. I suppose we should," the alchemist says with a begrudging smile. She nods.
"We should join him up there. Shabbar, if you will?"
"Right away, miss."
The Djinn scoops her up and, with a single jump, lands on the statue's back. Moishe yelps and scrambles to make room. A moment later Robert takes a run at the statue and throws himself at it. Shabbar leans down and grabs his hand, hauling him up.
"Great, we're all here. Moishe, if you could get us out of here?" Sarai asks as she lobs her last bomb at the bandits below. They've mostly assembled and are largely trying to avoid the statue's tramplings. A few, though, are starting to get bows and throwing spears out. Some tents have caught fire, lighting up the whole camp quite nicely.
"I, um, don't quite, uh, know how to uh...control it..."
Sarai stares at him.
"Right, I should have known. Robert, get that shield up, we're about to have some rain."
"Rain?" Moishe asks.
One of the bandits below has set an arrow to his bowstring and is about to let fly, when suddenly another arrow comes zipping down out of the sky, buzzing like a dark malignant hornet, plunging into his throat. The bandits panic and look around for the source of the arrows as one after another comes seemingly from out of the sky to land among them. The pack of bandits descends into chaos as they scramble for cover.
"Look!" Moishe says, standing and pointing. Out of the sky descends the Aliyah, lit from beneath by the fires of the camp. Standing on the prow is Menander, coolly loosing arrow after arrow into the massed bandits below. Devorah stands at the tiller, leaning over the side to flash her crew a grin.
"Well, I cannot tell you how happy I am to see you alive and well, everyone!" Devorah shouts.
"And I'm glad to see my ship in one piece," Sarai replies, "And, I assume, all my crew is alive and well, so I think it's time we made our exit."
Devorah tosses long rope over the side of the ship. Robert grabs it to steady it as the others start to climb up.
"You know, succubus, I have to say I'm happy to see you for once," he calls up to her. Devorah laughs.
"Don't get your hopes up, Robert," she says, flashing him a grin.
***
As Moishe hauls himself over the railing, he feels like his arms are about to turn to jelly. He collapses on the deck, dropping his staff and looking around. Menander, looking oddly sheepish, smiles at him from the prow.
"Welcome aboard. Oh, uh, Devorah? I think we have the captain aboard!"
At the tiller, Devorah salutes as Sarai jumps down from Shabbar's shoulders.
"Fantastic! Captain Sarai bat Binyamin, I'm requesting that you formally retake command of the ship!"
Sarai smiles and pats the succubus' shoulder.
"I'd be glad to."
As Shabbar helps Robert climb aboard, Moishe looks around and realizes that everyone on the crew is back together. And all it took was a small miracle.
"SARAI BAT BINYAMIN! THIS ISN'T OVER!"
Sarai and Moishe look over the railing. Far below is Benob, clutching a bloodied face with one hand and shaking the other at the sky.
"THIS ISN'T THE LAST YOU'VE HEARD OF BENOB THE SIX-FINGERED!"
Sarai grips the railing, then shakes her head and turns back towards her crew.
"Right, I think we're done here. Give me a heading, due east. We've got an appointment with Prester John to keep."
- Location
- Here & There
No one ever expects surprise Golem!
- Pronouns
- She/Her
I do love the deep cuts on myth. I know its part of the point of the story but they are so cool. Like, turning an idol of a lammasu into a golem to beat up your enemies is so cool.
Back in the Sky
- Location
- Great Khanate of Scotland
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Chapter 22: Back in the Sky
"So, Menander, what are we going to do with you?" Sarai asks. The Panoti shifts uncomfortably between Robert and Shabbar. It's the morning after the battle, when everyone has gotten their rest and taken stock of the remnants of their supplies.
"Nobody was supposed to get hurt!" Menander says. Sarai glares at him, but doesn't say anything. Instead, she just looks at the others, waiting for them to voice their thoughts.
"I almost tossed him overboard," Devorah admits.
"What stopped you?" Sarai asks. Her tone isn't accusative, just curious.
"We needed him. He was one of the crew. And he did help save you, Captain. Everyone."
"Th-that's right! I know about loyalty, right?"
"Look...killing him is pretty cold-blooded," Moishe says, "We could just leave him at the next populated area."
Robert and Shabbar share a look that suggests they are cold-blooded enough to kill him, but only the djinn decides to speak up.
"I believe that if we explained the situation to Fahrettin Bey, he would understand the necessity of dismissing him from the crew."
Sarai nods.
"Who were you working for?" she asks.
Menander shuts his mouth, struggling with old loyalties reasserting themselves.
"I knew it," Devorah says, shaking her head, "He'd never sell out his boss. He's just waiting for the next minute to go behind our backs-"
"Scylax," Menander says suddenly, "The Boss of Little Indica."
"Criminals," Shabbar says, "Thieves and robbers."
"They're infamous," Devorah adds. Sarai scowls.
"What was the price?" she asks. Menander looks upset.
"It wasn't like that. The price of failure..."
"Loyalty? To a gangster?" Sarai asks.
"He was my uncle."
Sarai hums thoughtfully.
"Alright, I think I've heard enough. Menander."
"Yes captain?" he responds, quite hopefully.
"Are you going to be a problem?"
"...no, captain."
"Good. In that case, you're coming on with us to Ind. After that...we'll have to see."
"Thank you, captain."
"Shabbar, keep an eye on him. Moishe, keep us on this heading. We need supplies. Devorah, what's the closest city?
***
A few hours later, Dev is perched up on the rail, one hand on the rigging to steady himself, when Robert joins him. The incubus gives him a smile.
"Need something, sir knight?"
Robert frowns and adjusts his cloak.
"I wanted to...thank you. For saving us."
Dev shrugs.
"I couldn't leave you. An incubus flies into the Kingdom of Prester John in an airship all on his own? I wouldn't know what to do with the thing."
Robert leans against the railing.
"You're a good crew...man..."
Dev allows himself a satisfied grin.
"Is that a touch of admiration?"
Robert produces a flask and hands it to him.
"Call it respect...Dev."
"Well hey, You're not so bad yourself."
Dev lifts the flask in a toast and takes a sip, then coughs.
"Oh God, that's awful."
Robert chuckles, then quickly sobers.
"Sorry for not saying so before. I didn't realize how much I needed a crew...a team again."
"Apology accepted. I mean, if we can let Menander stay on board, no reason I can't forgive you for being an ass."
"indeed," says Shabbar behind them. Robert and Dev turn to face the djinn, who bows.
"Sir Robert, it is you I must thank for rescuing me."
"Think nothing of it," Robert mutters as the djinn joins him at the railing.
"All the same, my wife will be glad that I will be able to return home in a timely manner. Inshallah."
Dev and Robert stare at him for a moment.
"You're married?" Robert asks.
As Shabbar chuckles and begins to speak of his wife, Dev looks over back his shoulder. On the other side of the ship, Sarai and Moishe are leaning against the railing as well.
"Wonder what they're talking about," the incubus muses.
***
Moishe looks down at the barren desert hills. It's an interesting feeling, to be so high up, but ever since he performed a miracle - an actual miracle! - he's felt different. Not physically, that feeling faded long ago, rather he can still feel the sense of surrender. It's not a terrifying feeling, but it isn't comforting. It's not a feeling of powerlessness, rather it's the feeling of being an extension of something greater.
"Robert told me what happened in the caves," Sarai says. Moishe starts, having forgotten that she was next to him.
"All of it?" he asks, running his hands along the railing.
"Well, most of it."
She folds her hands and snorts.
"That rabbi really got to you."
Moishe can't look at her. He feels as if he should say something.
"I'm still your apprentice, you know."
"Are you?" the alchemist asks, conversationally. She keeps her eyes fixed on the craggy hills below.
"I still have way too much to learn about alchemy, of course."
"...you don't have to be if you don't want to."
"You've always been my teacher. Why would I stop now?"
Sarai turns to look at her apprentice.
"You don't want to leave to be a rabbi? I promise I won't be mad."
Moishe thinks for a moment. He doesn't think the rabbi would have chosen him to study Kabbalah if he didn't think an alchemist could handle it.
"Once I'm a proper alchemist...I'll think about it."
She lets out a heavy breath.
"I feel a bit silly. I shouldn't fight over you."
He reaches out and puts a hand on her shoulder.
"You shouldn't. Because you're my teacher, after all."
She smiles back at him.
"It's strange. Now, it's almost hard to think of you as my apprentice."
"Why is that?"
"Because you're growing up."
- Location
- PA
One thing that strikes me, is just how much Sarai seems to be struggling with what I think basically is feelings of insecurity. She's touchy about her apprentice hanging around Rabbi because she's worried he'll be stolen away from her, she makes her airship this big, grand production while also like, selling it's schedule to what seems to be a merchant house of...dubious legality and getting her crew to sign on for the rewards of the trip but it turns out to basically mean 'for free'...
It's a dangerous, hungry thing that drives her, in my opinion, and it's nice to see her stare down the jaws of her ambitions and tell it 'no, not this time, this isn't for chomping down on and holding. If he decides to leave, then so be it.' And I feel like that same energy is why she basically made promises on money she doesn't have yet but she's GOING to have, honest! Basically borrowing on credit...It's good to see her not let it be her master in all things.
It's a dangerous, hungry thing that drives her, in my opinion, and it's nice to see her stare down the jaws of her ambitions and tell it 'no, not this time, this isn't for chomping down on and holding. If he decides to leave, then so be it.' And I feel like that same energy is why she basically made promises on money she doesn't have yet but she's GOING to have, honest! Basically borrowing on credit...It's good to see her not let it be her master in all things.
- Location
- Here & There
Sarai does better. Menander is given a mercy others would not be as inclined to offer. I wonder if his uncle would have done the same.