Jezebel

Part Three: 4

"Who did this to you?" Jezebel asked as she lightly swept her fingers over the ugly gash on Bashan's head. The man did not twitch in response. He was like a kneeling stone statue.

"A girl—"

"A girl did this to you?" She dug sharp nails into the wound and twisted her fingers. "You dare lie to me."

"I speak the truth." Bashan lifted his dead stare to her face, not for once acknowledging the blood that slid down the side of his face. The perfect soldier.

Wait until you see this, Ahab.

Jezebel dragged her fingers away then plucked a brimming goblet of wine from a nearby tray, bloody fingers and all. "Tell me what happened. Everything." She settled in her lounging chair and sighed at the gentle breeze wafting in from the wide archways of her upper quarters. Ahab had approved its construction years ago. She had added a personal touch to the place though. Images of Molech, Baal and Ashera in shades of red and yellow were painted across the walls in colourful brilliance. The trio had forked tongues bared and sharp teeth glistening. Maina, in the absence of Rasaque, stood rigid as usual to her right, and half a dozen maids were on their toes to answer her every need. Today was a good day... but that nagging dread. Jezebel gritted her teeth. It's still two days away—

"He told me to seek her out and deliver a message."

Jezebel shifted her gaze to the rock of a man. "You mean Molech?"

Bashan just stared. Jezebel hissed at his stupidity. It was the same with the rest, very hard to engage them in an intelligent conversation. Living with Rasaque and Maina were enough proof of that. "Carry on," she said, rolling her eyes in exasperation.

"I found her. She was different."

"Different, how?" Jezebel asked, her goblet stopping halfway to her lips.

"She is not..." he seemed to search for the word "... human. Uncontrollable."

"So even Molech can't control this little girl?" Jezebel forced the question through gritted teeth. "Is that what you are saying?"

"Yes," he answered simply.

Jezebel splashed wine in his face then hurled the goblet straight at his brick-like head. Standing, she began to pace the length of the place. "None is stronger than Molech, you fool!"

Bashan remained silent.

"Do you hear me?" She paused her pacing, leaned close to his face and stared into his black eyes. "You were weak. I should have you beheaded for blasphemy. You—"

His eye colour suddenly changed. In a blink it shifted from coal black to brown—normal human brown. Jezebel staggered away, eyes going round. Pure liquid fury blazed in the brown depths. His neck grew corded, muscles straining as though he was fighting a battle within himself. When he bared his teeth, the maids began to murmur.

"You..." The word came as a harsh pant.

Too shocked to speak, Jezebel stared. His back bowed, wide hands slapping against the marble floor as his huge frame trembled. He coughed once, sending a splatter of dark blood across the ground.

Jezebel grimaced in disgust, the sight finally shaking her from her frozen state. Turning to Maina, she said, "Take him away."

Maina walked over to the now panting man and gripped his arm. He managed to stumble to his feet, all the while panting like a dog. As he straightened, his gaze rose until they were fixed upon Jezebel. Then he grinned.

In a move that was almost too fast to notice, Bashan drove a fist straight through Maina. Blood and innards sprayed in a grotesque show of violence as his fist made a bloody exit.  Pulling his hand out, he gripped Maina's head, snapping her neck with a loud crack.