Chapter Six

Satan slowly drummed his weathered claws upon the arm of his metal throne. The high back cradled his frame as he slouched slightly awaiting the return of Anselrio, his chief messenger and spy. He was one of the few who could decipher the voice of the Eternal One. And one of the few who could get close enough to the Temple to eavesdrop  without detection. Still, had he been caught snooping around, they may have detained him, a most unfortunate possibility.

A murmur of voices began to rise from near the door of the throne chamber. Satan watched as the throng of fallen angels crowded the doorway. The doors burst open and the throng quickly fell back. Anselrio strutted into the chamber pushing the smaller demons aside and kicking a few who remained to close.

He worked his way forward through the long chamber towards his master. He slowed a bit and spat at a couple of demons. Hissing they cowered as they clambered beneath a table. Anselrio moved with an arrogant swagger that reeked with conceit. He stopped in the middle of the chamber.

Raising his arms up halfway he shouted for all to hear. “What are you staring at you cockroaches! The great and powerful Anselrio has returned bringing you news of the Eternal One’s feeble attempt to deceive us one more time.”

He slowly turned around in a circle gloating in the attention all eyes paid him.

“Once again He believes He can orchestrate His grand illusions in the presence of the wise and all knowing Anselrio!”

Satan smiled slightly as he listened to his boastful slave. Soon enough he would have everything he needed to defeat the Eternal One once and for all. Soon His pathetic efforts to reclaim his frail humanity from the jaws of sin and death would come to an end.

“Anselrio,” Satan growled. “Have you brought me word of that which I seek?”

Anselrio turned and faced Satan, arms still at half mast. He bowed and greeted Satan with a demonic salute. He slowly moved towards Satan with a strutted skipping motion. He chuckled with delight as he approached his master. He knew how to work the crowd and better than that, how to work Satan himself. He had learned a long time ago Satan quickly bored with a direct delivery of information. He had to tease him a bit, get the juices flowing till Satan demanded what he had to offer.

He stopped and coyly looked around behind him to see if all eyes were still on him or not. He squeaked out a laugh with a smirk plastered on his face. He turned his attention back to Satan.

“My Master, my sweet Satan. Impatient tonight? Have you no…”

Anselrio let his words hang for a moment, drawing the crowd in like children. Oh, they are way too easy tonight.

He scanned the room then continued.

“… confidence master?”

He eyed Satan, watching for the moment his patience would be exhausted. Satan’s sly grin relaxed and he readied himself to rise and extract the information Anselrio withheld from him.

“They sent Gabriel,” Anselrio hissed.

“Gabriel?” Satan replied.

“Yesssss. And a newly anointed excuse for a rival named Jeremy. From Michael’s little troop of misfits.”

Anselrio coated his finger nails with his breath. Buffing them on his leather amour he waited. There was more, but he milked the moment before he continued.

“All the little automatrons blindly worshiped as He called forth the great and mighty Gabriel to send him on his little quest to Jerusalem.”

Anselrio danced around, mocking the Eternal One and his worshippers, mimicking there worship.

“Holy, holy, holy. Ohhhh, He is Holy. Oh…Oh…He is Holy.”

Anselrio eyed Satan and fed him a little more.

“He said there will be much opposition to their task.”

He hopped a couple of steps forward.

“That you know His Word.”

A couple of more hops.

“And that you know who is coming and who is to follow.”

A couple of more hops. Anselrio knelt down and picked at the floor. He waited, timing his next revelation with the precision of a master story teller. Rising to his full stature he quickly stomped forward right up to Satan’s throne declaring at the top of his voice, “He said you both know and tremble at the name of Jeremy.”

Anselrio swung around lifting his right arm to the sky and quickly moved towards the demons surrounding him. He skipped a couple of steps and shouted, “There you have it. The facts of the matter unveiled before you without apology. And oh, the audacity, the shear audacity of Him to taunt you so my master.”

Turning back around to Satan’s throne he boldly walked right up to his master, arms flailing proclaiming, “He thinks us to be weak. He thinks He can hide His true intentions from us. Why, His angels are so incompetent that he has to send two to do the job of one.”

Anselrio looked Satan right in the eye. “He is sending them to some puny little priest named Zechariah. He is going to tell him his little barren woman will have a child, a child destined to go before the promised one. A child who will turn their hearts back to Him! Never! Never!!”

Anselrio rose above the crowd growling and snarling, spraying spit like a rabid wolf.

The crowd erupted and began stomping the rock floor, shouting curses as loudly as possible.

Satan seethed. Every ounce of his being filled with rage and hatred. Standing he descended the steps in front of his throne. Anselrio descended and bowed slightly towards his master.

Satan glared at him, “Is this all? Have you any more to say.”

“Gabriel left quick as lightening to go assemble his scraggly little band of misfits.”

“He will head for the Ellendon Fortress. This Zechariah. He is in Jerusalem you say.”

Satan reached out and drew Anselrio close to him and whispered directly in his ear, “Send Qwantar to this little priest. No, send him to his poor little barren wife. Twist her. Twist her shame. Twist her shame into her need. Twist her shame into an unbearable humiliation. A humiliation with only one escape, one way out. Then show her how easy it is to escape.”

“Yes my lord.”

“Tell him to stir up those precious little Jewish neighbors of hers. She must hear their indignation. She must feel their stares, their whispers as she walks by. Barren, barren.”

Anselrio smiled. He loved to listen to his master plot the demise of pithy humans.

“If the Eternal One thinks he can use a feeble old woman to birth one who goes before His precious Messiah while I am still around let Him cast His dreams to the wind. Go Anselrio. Send Qwantar. Guide her hands as she plots her own death.”

Turning, Anselrio quickly exited the chamber.

Satan quietly ascended the stairs and slipped into his throne to await the coming battle with Gabriel.

© 2011 John Pearson All Rights Reserved.