VI
While the warriors celebrated another victorious battle against Dromos' Lilim and the return of two of the kidnapped females, the centurions and some brave leaders sat in the headquarter, a large tent made of animal skin with enough seating for twenty soldiers and a large foldable table of driftwood and bone, where a large scroll was prevented from rolling in by several metal mugs filled with an alcoholic brew of fungi or lichens. Lucifer was impatient but still had himself under control. Demons thrived when fighting and his desire to end the whole mess had to be suppressed for the final outcome's sake.
He noticed a tall, dark skinned Lilim warrior in the back of the tent. The brass and leather armor had many indentations and scratches, sign of successful fights, her stance dominant and confident. She wore an elaborate brass helmet which barely tamed her long and curly, raven-black hair. He took in her scent and sight: a true daughter of Lilith, she was observing him observing her, her black pupils trying to penetrate his fiery ones. Even striding over and towering her by at least two ells, she didn't back down and held his stare, showing her fangs.
"Warrior, you fought well and with honor." He put his right claws on her shoulder and squeezed it, establishing dominance. "You are?"
"Nirazeen of the Lilim."
The Devil nodded and showed his fangs in appreciation before he turned his attention to the map, Soneillon, the centurions and his brothers. Continuing to eye him, she crossed her arms but did not fight his piercing claws. Yet. He knew he was puncturing her skin and felt the blood on his hands. She was very much alike his Mazikeen. Wild, strong, unruly. Lucifer liked that and wanted to test how far he could go.
"Aren´t you going to discuss the tactics?" she asked curiously.
"No, that is boring. They argue and argue and argue, and in the end I decide." He sniffed at her neck and retrieved his hand, unapologetically licking the blood off. "How many did you end?"
"About two dozen." She pulled a dagger out to play with it.
"About?" He flashed his eyes at the demon.
"I stopped counting after twenty." She grinned.
"And you fight for Purah?"
"With Purah."
"Enjoy it? He is a rather sad one, isn't he?" Lucifer glanced over to his brother with the drooping wings.
"He fights well, and he is stronger than he looks."
"So you have fought him?" He raised the scorched skin over his right orb.
"Yeah." Her grin almost doubled its size and Lucifer returned it – or at least he showed a broad string of sharp incisors, premolars and canines. His tongue brushed over them, the latter were sharper and longer than he remembered. Obsidian spear tips couldn't be sharper, and he couldn't think of anything to do with them but using them as weapons and to scare human souls.
To Hell with Dromos!
He was making his life impossible, uncontrollable, impractical and for sure he would be unacceptable for the Detective! There is was! Chloe! He was unworthy, unpleasant to the eye, and would end up unloved and alone – ahead of time! Lucifer took a deep breath and tried to focus on the target, but this time his anger and misery didn't go unnoticed.
"Sire?" Purcel stood at his left and looked intently at him. "Brother?"
"Yes, little brother? What is it NOW!" Pushing the back of his right hand where the bridge of his nose should have been, only encountering another bump of cartilage, the Ruler of Hell got more and more annoyed and did not hide it in his voice.
Purcel backed off. Two, three, four steps. It was not advisable to be within the range of sharp claws if the Devil was irate. It never ended well.
"OUT WITH IT!" Fire in Lucifer's eyes became erratic and fiercer.
"We think, we can catch Dromos in the Great Valley."
"Tell me little brother, HOW CAN YOU CATCH HIM THERE IF YOU HAVEN'T GOT A CLUE WHERE HE IS!" The ground shook dangerously, and the present denizens of Hell had to hold onto something not to lose balance.
"Bait." Purcel was barely audible. "If the mountain does not come to Mohammed, Mohammed has to go to the mountain."
"A religious reference? From YOU! Really!"
Growling menacingly the Devil grabbed the back of the chair in front of him and threw it out of the tent, barely missing Purcel and a demon next to the exit. Everyone in the tent stopped talking, staring at their sovereign, not knowing what had happened to ignite his anger.
Purcel tried to appease him. "Sire, I can lure Dromos to the mining complex in the Great Valley."
"Well, little piglet, elaborate fast, because I cannot sit idle in a corner waiting for that insubordinate, malicious demon and grow roots." He reached for Purcel's tail, wrapped it around his middle finger and pulled it. "If you are pulling my leg," he stared at the small pig-like creature "I will make a knot of this, hang you upside down, over a fire and make some fine smoked ham."
"No need for that." The pig-like creature squeaked more than it spoke.
"Then bacon maybe." Lucifer squinted and licked his darkened canines but let Purcel go.
"No, no, Sire!" Tripping over his tiny legs, Purcel almost got stuck with his even toes and fell on his snout eliciting an annoyed huff of his Lord. "Purah and you, my Lord, will travel under the eye and supervise the mines for some obscure purpose. Dromos has maybe five hundred left on his side. You won't need an army and if you travel light it might be alluring to that disgraceful son of Lilith."
"There is only one entrance. And you know that! You want me to be a sitting duck! ME?!" He exposed his neck in a swift move backwards, rolling his eyes the way his beautiful Detective had taught him and suddenly held Nirazeen's hunting knife to the soft flesh beneath his chin. "Maybe he can slit my neck just like that? Hmm? Thought about it? Of course you didn't. You are denser than the whole heavenly host altogether!"
The tent was so quiet, one could have heard the proverbial needle fall, but it was the knife instead. Lucifer exhaled fumes, then pinched his cartilage on the former nose bridge and settled on his curule chair, his remaining anger contained for now.
"You have to come up with something else."
xxxxx
Of course every suggestion had been ridiculous! Purah and Soneillon had even suggested a "Tour de Diable" around his realm, presenting it like a triumphal march. As if that hadn't been the first downfall of Gaius Julius Caesar and Cleopatra VIII when returning or visiting from Egypt! He wasn't as prideful as before and not interested on a display of power to attract Dromos like honey a bear. Poking it was much more like him, but that was not achievable with an army. He had a flash of Cleopatra. Such an intelligent, polyglot and gifted ruler. What a shame she fell for the wrong guy! But she was immortalized, nonetheless. Lucifer remembered Liz Taylor's violet eyes reflecting the golden and silver strapless dress before they morphed into someone's much more cherished ones.
Visiting!
Visiting was not returning, was it?
Could he catch a glimpse without anybody noticing?
He looked at the ceiling of his tent, listening - what seemed half an eternity - to the sparks from a hearth where Nirazeen and another loyal Lilim were warming up. At least the two had enjoyed his assertiveness Purah would have called uber-aggressive and excessive. But who was Purah, the sad sod, anyway? Dr. Who's weeping angels looked cheerier and really frightened the Hell out of people. Well, maybe not Miss López. He grumbled to dissimulate a smile, thought about sending his two brothers to the Great Valley mines, and turned on his belly, stretching his wings before succumbing to a dreamless rest for the first time since he had gotten back.
It was not yet twilight when the Devil got up from the den of slumbering demons, cleaned himself thoroughly, and dressed in skillfully snug but rather plain leather trousers crafted by Vozothin over an immaculate woven shirt that was evoking the natural excellence of the British dandy style of the 1790s with his high collar. Moving to the freshly served tray, Lucifer reached for his tea mimicry. He should have taken a stash of Earl Grey with him. Bergamot would have surely disguised the smell and flavor of rotten eggs.
Outside the tent, eyes on the prize, he sipped the hot brew, lost in thoughts. The twirling opening above called him. He sighed.
Baby steps. Right?
While he was still contemplating the parody of a sky, a limping soldier approached him submissively. Swaying from one side to another the posture complemented the toad-like appearance. Lucifer, a lifetime away, stared through the brownish creature as if it were invisible.
"Sirrre." Nothing else.
The Lord of Hell suddenly realized he wasn't alone anymore and stared down to little black eyes and an extremely broad gob on the blunt snout that twisted nervously.
"What is it that you feel the need to disturb my morning routine? Isn't it enough that this meager substitute tastes like stinky feet?" Already irritated he stared on while the short, bald warrior trembled at his words. The demon's rolling 'r' also bothered him deeply.
"I might have a hunch wherrre Drrromos is hiding." Playing with his nuptial pad on the thumb-like digit, Bofo didn't dare to look the Devil in the eye, but rather deflated his vocal sac. Even if sexually aroused by the presence of his sovereign he tried to seem insignificant by shrinking even more.
"Oh, you want to brighten my day. Why didn't you say so?" Bending his knees Lucifer padded the warty back of the small demon with his free claw.
"I am not surrre if he's therrre. But he likes it therrre."
"And where is there?"
"Wherrre my knot is frrrom. The moist grrrasslands, a two twilight walk from Cocytus."
"Ah, the cold regions." Of course Dromos had been affected by the human possession and acquired a fancy for the Hebrides and similar surroundings. Not really the Morningstar's cup of tea. Too cold, too moist, too foggy. Already picturing the desolate and damp landscape, he finished his hot beverage. But if that got him the insufferable Lilim… apparently more sacrifices had to be made. "Would you care to show me the way?"
Before Bofo answered, Lucifer's train of thought already departed the station.
He could pretend to impersonate James Bond travelling to Skyfall sharing so many traits with this literary figure from his love for cars, cigarettes, food, tailored suits down to alcoholic beverages, even if he preferred whisky over Gordon's and Kina Lillet. Lucifer never understood how Craig had convinced Broccoli to cast him as Bond. He was far too rough on the edges, lacking finesse, blond, physically impersonating a dock worker in Liverpool and nothing like the smooth, elegant and womanizing spy he enjoyed reading or watching on the screen in the nineteen-sixties. Having completely forgotten Hell and the demon in front of him, he chuckled remembering the Detective smacking him after he compared her to Pussy Galore. Decker never understood that he had made a reference to the independence and strength of the character. Besides, who wouldn't like to be compared to a Bond girl?
Nirazeen appeared at the entrance of the tent already clad in smooth leather, her wild locks tamed in a braid. The door-hide still in her left and a dagger in her right, she stood in a posture so akin to her sister, she fooled the Devil for a fraction of a second. With the skimpy top on, which looked more like a bandage over her well balanced, grapefruit sized breasts, highlighting her well trained body, she appeared as muscular and as fierce as Mazikeen. She couldn't replace her, though. Maze was unique.
He grinned while handing her his mug and exclaimed enthusiastically: "You will depart with me on a quest after everybody has been rewarded and returned home or sent to the Great Valley. This chap has all the details."
Soneillon would oversee the cells and therefore return home and so would all the villagers. Purah would move back towards the wastelands but search for renegades, whereas Purcel was going to play the main role in his foolish idea and seize and supervise the mining complex. Being entertained, they would not look for him in quite some time.