II.
"You were away for a long time, Sire!" High up on his longhaired wooly coelodonta, Soneillon greeted his sovereign and let himself down grasping strands of its sienna brown fur, before he embraced him and padded his lord on the shoulders. "How is Earth?"
"Interesting. Humans are always finding new ways in killing each other."
"They are so ingenious! I can only imagine how much fun it must have been. Your new appearance suits you. You killed one of them?"
The jagged red physique that could be discerned in Lucifer's face and clawed fingers was emphasized by its frame of thick and luxurious leather armor. He looked broad, muscular, sturdy even, and instigated fear on human souls and demons alike.
"I did. Cain." The Devil kept his voice light, but it still came out as a growl.
"You have to tell me everything about it. Abel was missing for a while, I heard. Something to do with that matter?" A wineskin appeared in his hold and he handed it over to his sire.
"It did. I tried to lift Father's curse by bringing him to Earth in order to kill Cain. It didn't work with Abel, and it took some time, but in the end, I found a viable solution."
Lucifer bared his teeth and gulped the sour liquid down. He missed his Scotch. Badly. But he could not refuse his old ally's gesture of good will. It was good to know him at his side, almost as good as hiding under the hood and behind his devil face. They were unable to read his emotions without the skin and fat tissue. Impenetrable as the eternal starless night, he was forced to rule he needed to embody the monster everybody had him out to be.
"Good. It was about time to add him to our collection."
"Agreed."
"So his mother wanted revenge? Was that the reason Dromos was beckoned to rise to Earth?"
"Eve is Eve. Driven by passion. Too much to handle for Adam or any other man." He took another gulp and returned the wineskin to its owner.
Soneillon hated it not to stir any emotion out of his king. The old Lucifer had been volatile, driven by lust and anger, enjoying the company of the hendiatris wine, women, and song, but he had returned serene and an enigma to him. His steps were deliberate, but his objectives unknown to him - there was no way of telling what he wanted. The exception being punishing Dromos for insubordination.
A crop sutler was passing with his filled cart. There were only so many places where food other than meat could be harvested as light fell from a single hole, an eye in the all revolving cloud of ash above them. In the back of Soneillon's escort, he was wearing the conservative snakeskin shirt of his guild.
Lucifer Morningstar watched him pushing the cart, eagerly surrounded by the demons under his ally's command who would purchase a sack of crop to vary their diet. An apple, something unreachable though, at least for now, was something he craved for - not a dry and tiny piece of carb. Juicy, fresh, slightly sweet and sour. He missed the varied flavors from Earth.
So far, his efforts to reunite his allies had been a simple task. Dromos and his followers were despised, not for disobeying him, but for enforcing tribute on the other factions and often more than was prudent. Most were pleased to learn that Mazikeen had terminated Squee.
Playing with the buttons on the new sleeves he mused on his prime objective. The objects were made of polished and carved horns, well balanced and composed as if the artisan had learned at the best tailors or designers of the human world. Vozothin had been well compensated, and he was going to manufacture him more clothing further ahead.
For now he had to think what type of weaponry he would use additional to his sword. A crossbow, lighter than the aluminum baseball bat Daniel Espinoza owned since college and which had been leaning against the wall behind his desk, was the piece of choice.
He looked up, the ever-revolving cloud was interminable, a dove grey sea only opened at the eye, similar to a silent hurricane. The exit had been locked, a necessary precaution before he was going install his punishment. Everything in him wanted to rush towards the demon usurper, just like he drove his Corvette through the City of Angels, ignoring most traffic lights or speed limits.
Sat on a furry Welsh afanc with extremely large teeth - which somehow reminded him of the bulky beaver Beatrice and him had contemplated during a visit to the San Diego Zoo and joked about his size - the Devil let his gaze wander to the geysers; their steamy fountains leading the way to the hillside where the disobedient traitor had erected a fortress whose ceilings and walls he longed to tear down like a force of nature. He pushed the rodent towards the area filled with rounded pebbles. Once, it seemed an eternity ago, a fierce river had crossed the site, but it was shrunken to a small rivulet trickling through the plain in front of them. At least beasts and demons would find a short rest and fill their wineskins with more liquid. This ash season had been severe according to the military leader.
The intel was that Dromos had gathered at least fifty thousand demons. His own armed forces were no match for that yet, but more and more demons were trying to get on the good side of the Devil. They were expecting several hundred joining the next twilight. The Devil was going to employ a Roman style direct attack as well as hit-and-run guerilla tactics, placed like acupunctural needles in strategic places of Dromos' forces. What his demons lacked in numbers they made up in hate against the usurper.
Always been a supporter of meritocracy, birthrights had been no issue when choosing generals or torturers. Some Lilim resented that, but most demons were grateful when given the opportunity to excel.
"Sonellion, we head for the caves after feeding the beasts. I need to plan for the next twilights, and I need the expertise of our friends of the Great Valley." Lucifer took his hood down and revealed his reddish-brown skull, his eyes penetrating Sonellion's troops with his intense glow.
Many bowed or lowered their heads in awe.
The Devil left his afanc in the experienced claws of his beastmaster and strode towards the labyrinths in the ground, his four large hellhounds following suit. He was sure Dromos knew he was coming for him and that he was two, tops three twilights away. His advantage was his knowledge of classic and modern warfare, even if with archaic weapons and one element of surprise he was sure the Lilim did not count on.
Sitting on an elaborate ornated chair made of horns, tusks, and bones, Lucifer Morningstar was holding court, listening to his senior officers, mostly veteran warriors well trained in Roman warfare tactics, and their recommendations.
"We need to rush four contubernia into the hillside, approaching from the sides. Here and here," an older tesserarius suggested pointing to the map.
"Agreed. And we send two turmae together with a cohort to the plains as distraction, and after the second ashfall we send the full force ahead. We can keep the older veterans with the youngsters as velites to defend the basaltic lands." added the primus ordines. "Dromos of the Lilim is too straight forward; he will try to use the shortest way to cut through to us and not wait."
The King of Hell deliberated. On one hand the usurper had never been very elaborate in tactics. On the other hand Dromos had had the idea to use a malleable Nephilim to rule Hell. However, Dromos wasn't Ay and Charlie no Tutankhamun.
"The usurper is not stupid. He is a warrior and he will conclude that we are going to encircle him. He will try to get to the plains faster in order to get strategic advantage. We need to move before the next sidereal even if they outnumber us. We have to get around the hills and attack his agmen. The rearguard is weak, untrained, and easy to disperse. Same goes for the hastati Dromos might send against us first." He flared his dark wings in anticipation of the battle. "We will send the conturbenia through the hills and the cohors upfront, as you suggested, but we send three legions tonight around the right and left hillside. They will need to march immediately after restocking."
The centurions in question were informed personally by the legati before they used the deep blackness created by the ashfall to move.
The Devil hid his wings and returned to his beast. He wanted to be with one of the legions turmae. Every part of his flesh demanded revenge. Von Clausewitz had once determined that war was conformed of primordial violence, hatred, and enmity – he was so right. His legions hated his opponent with all their might. Their natural force paired with the subordination they felt towards him was decisive in this endeavor, and his creative spirit would create the necessary chaos to succeed.
Lucifer Morningstar parted as soon as they handed him the reigns. The long black coat over his clothing disguised his reddish features and the hidden wings made him invisible within the equites. He left the lead to the experienced decurion, none but him in the know of his identity.
"Bloody ash!" he hissed while riding into the hills.
His neighbor growled dourly. "You sound just like our sire. Ash is as inevitable as our victory."
"I like that thought!" He pushed his heels into the flanks of his afanc, which stirred and moved somewhat faster. If the morale was high, it was going to be much easier. Lower demons were more instinct driven than the Lilim, they entertained a simpler approach for things, longing for food, sex, or dry housing and not for fortunes or shiny knickknacks. Lucifer allowed himself a faint smile. Nobody would see him do it.
The other equites were riding mostly behind him, their lizards and rodents moving swiftly over the plain, the ashfall silencing their progress. Just about twilight they reached the feet of the hills where they rested just enough to water the animals before they continued on the right path toward the highest point. The soil was covered with several hand breaths of ash that swirled up when the turma passed through, the riders covering their faces even more, but they were still well on the way. Demons and beasts were one unity, the animals sensing what their masters wanted to achieve.
The other turmae should have arrived on the other hilltops. Soneillon was leading the legion on the left side, which would reach the rearguard of the enemy by the next twilight. Purah and Purcel leading the other ones. The King of Hell could rely on his fallen brothers to fight fervently against the Lilim. They had been locked up and tortured by Squee, rightfully considered a threat. Both accomplished centurions were looking for revenge and they were obstinately persistent, very much like Amenadiel.
Lucifer looked back at the plain but the ashfall made it impossible to make out the advancement of the phalanx. Perfect! Dromos reconnoiters would have a hard time.
A gulp of his wineskin made him shudder at the aftertaste, but he did not dare to ponder on his life on Earth. He had to get a grip on all of Hell first before even thinking about returning for a visit. He shook his head and focused his hatred on the target. Sulphur water was just the cherry on the sundae - icing on the cake a term too close to home.
He gritted his teeth, barely preventing his eyes from flashing red and giving his identity away. He pushed his beast and closed up to the sturdy decurion.
"Any sighting yet?" he inquired.
"No, Sire. But before the next ashfalls we should face some warriors over there." He motioned to a place near the valley before them.
"Good."
The decurion did not question the decision of the Devil to ride with him, he considered it an honor, but found it highly strange that the king did not travel well-guarded within the main legion.
"You seem eager to fight, my Lord."
"Indeed I am. I am looking forward to the smell of drying blood, my sword wants to get used and bury itself into some Lilim."
"Have you chosen a name for the blade already?"
"Not yet, I will name it after the slaughter." He showed his fangs to the demon.
"Good decision, Sire." He reciprocated showing his fangs.
Letting himself fall behind, not to arouse suspicions and his well-trained beast obeying entirely and keeping itself in line with the others, the Lord of Hell concentrated on the way downwards. Rocky and tricky, but the animals were accustomed to the terrain and they mastered it without any major setbacks. As the turma reached the valley, the decurion held his arm up and ordered a rest at a sufficiently large hideout for men and beasts. The riders groomed them thoroughly to free them from the considerable ash before they proceeded to sit around the fire and feed on the meat they had softened below their saddle, the consistency similar to beef tartare.
Beef tartare with capers, egg yolk, shallots and chives!
The fallen archangel longed for a proper meal but in the meantime, this would have to suffice. He kept his hood pulled over his head and his gloves on, and, as others did the same, was not standing out. A possible spy would not recognize him but only consider him a wealthy, successful warrior. He listened to the conversations of his men, drank to the health of their villages, singing songs of war and glory with them. They went to rest soon after and he finally fell asleep, dreaming of being in the comforting arms of the beloved human he was protecting.