Disappear: Into Shadow

- CHAPTER FORTY ONE -

Azrael watched the black robed horsemen ambush the convoy as heavy clouds blocked out the light of the moon, leaving the desert night an inky blackness. Circling the wagon, they stabbed and slashed down with razor sharp scimitars, felling the guards of the small convoy. The few remaining guards had circled around the wagon they had sworn to defend to their deaths.

She noted how the valiant guards fought well. Despite skill and courage, theirs was a losing cause from the moment the first arrows had flown from the shadows. Azrael had witnessed many battles in her time and it was a rare thing for a small group of infantry to defend their lives against such an overwhelming force of cavalry.

The deaths and poor odds did not bother her. It was what she had heard. A terrible shriek had cut through the windless night as the attack began. It was the first warning sign of veiled trouble. The unmistakable cry of the Jinn, spirits of the desert, Fallen Watchers who had long abandoned their duties. Most of them aligned with Daemonkind, travelling between Hell and the world, preying on any souls they encountered. The black riders were not Jinn. They were human, which explained why Azrael was not hearing the screaming alarm of spiritual interference as the guards died.

She also saw Camael. Her friend was on the canvas wrapped wagon, watching the battle. Azrael knew what Camael stood on. It was the golden sarcophagus of Alexander the Great, the reason he stumbled onto this attack. He must have stayed with the great coffin after Blake was woken from his dream. Once again, he had followed some wild chase on his own. Though he often took such liberties, Azrael was impressed by his instincts. He had a knack for tracking and deciphering mystery. She had told him not to wander alone. If only he had listened. This time he had stumbled into something dark and shadowed.

Two other aspects of the bloody scene troubled her: the men who had led the convoy into the desert. She had instantly recognized Michael's incarnation as the Captain of the Guard. She cringed when he fell under the relentless blades of his attackers. He had fallen again and again, each time struggling back to his feet and fighting on. She had never seen him fight like this, in any of his lives. Here, he was a man possessed by honour and righteous anger. A scimitar pierced his shoulder, the last wound his body could carry. When she saw the sword slip from his hand, she looked away as he fell to the bloody sand around the wagon. After so many countless deaths more senseless and horrible than this, she was shocked by her reaction. What am I doing? Azrael forced herself to look when a cold laugh rang out from the surrounding dunes.

Riding out of the darkness was the other leader of the caravan. Mashif, the high priest of the Pharaoh. Accustomed to reading any soul who crossed her path, the priest was a shadow to her powerful eyes. A black hole void, it was identical to the one that surrounded Dagan's incarnation on Yns Mon.

The Priest led his horse around the bodies of the convoy's guard. The black riders bowed their heads as he passed. His eyes, dark and malevolent were almost luminous. He looked down at the mortally wounded Captain wheezing on the ground. Azrael opened her journal and leafed through its pages. The shadow around Yns Mon, Dagan and the dark hooded eyes of this priest were reflections in a mirror. There could be no coincidence. Her finger stabbed at the page she was looking for. Her records never failed, this Mashif was Dagan! Once again he was involved in the attempted theft of a powerful talisman and wreathed in shadow. Someone wanted to hide his intent from any watchful eyes that might examine the scene. This was interference on a diabolical scale. The pieces slipped together in her mind: Dagan's motives, the shadow cloaking him, Michael's amnesia and Ozah's capture. Where did all this lead? With the balancing about to break over the horizon of the world, it was obvious. This foul play had to do with the end times, but what was it meant to accomplish? Azrael dragged her attention back to the bloody sand. Mashif knelt over the Captain's body.