Jezebel

Part One: 6

No one had passed through the alleyway between the eastern palace wall and the infirmary since they found a body. Her wrist had been marked and slashed, and her own blood had pooled around her stiff form. It was obvious the inscriptions on the wall had been her last conscious action.

Just a little time before noon, the same bloody inscription glowed red for an instant before a pulsing portal appeared. Six pairs of arms pushed through the gateway, flexing before gripping the walls. Two demons crawled through the gaping hole, the smell of sulphur and tar wafting off their porous grey skin as they slowly straightened.

The first demon had the form of a faceless male, and the second appeared female—slim, tall, and also missing facial features. In sync, both catapulted through the sky like grasshoppers before landing on the palace grounds. The force of their landing caused a small spiritual tremor.

It was noon.

As instructed, the Sidonian stepped into the sun with the eunuch, her personal maiden, and a handful of guards in tow. The demons waited.

A canopy was held over the head of the Sidonian as she made her way down the steps to a carriage drawn by four horses.

The two figures drew nearer. They moved like wild cats, stealthily crawling through hedges, palms, and the pools that decorated the frontal grounds of the palace. Their senses were fixed on the retinue—their prey. They halted and stood to their full height when one of the guards held open the door for the Sidonian.

It was time.

They bolted forward. With focus fixed on the eunuch and maiden, both demons transformed into twin clouds of thick black smoke as they rushed at the vessels. They forced their way in, filling the humans to the brink—wearing them like gloves. Every independent thought and action instantly submitted to their control. They crushed their humanity and left nothing but the will to serve their master to death.

***

Jezebel had felt it when the change occurred. Rasaque and Maina were now vessels. All the while they sat opposite her, their eyes had remained vacant, speaking only when they relayed the direction that should be taken. She in turn had informed the driver.

"Stop," the eunuch said in the same monotonous voice. Jezebel rapped at the roof of the carriage thrice, a signal for them to stop the horses. This was the moment.

When Jezebel stepped under the hot Samarian sun, two Israeli male servants assigned to her by Ahab rushed forward with a wide canopy held high. Rasaque and Maina walked at her sides while the guards followed behind. She took leisurely steps around the snorting horses and came upon a close. The street was nearly deserted and was set on the high grounds of the city.

Adjusting her perfumed veil over her head and shoulders, Jezebel observed the enclosed space. At the farthest corner, three cloaked men stood above a whimpering boy. In their hands were coiled whips, and one of them was speaking. She wasn't close enough to hear the actual words.

"They are members of the brotherhood of Dahw," Maina said, her breathy voice sounding almost normal--almost.

"Oh." Jezebel's gaze dropped to the boy. Blood dripped down the corner of his burst lips, his dark eyes were wide with fear, and he wore oversized hessian for clothes. The men surrounding him didn't seem to notice the extra company, or if they did they chose to disregard it. In fact, Jezebel was certain they knew it was a royal carriage but chose to give no regard.

The insolence.

"Please!" The shrill voice of the boy rose when the men uncoiled their whips. "I beg you, please."