from “Devil’s Revenge”, a random chapter

Night Fog 2

My mood is a black as soot this morning.  Somehow the entire finished manuscript of “The Nightingale’s Song” has been dropped from computer.  Hopefully, Nick in Australia has a copy but it’s not the rewritten one.  That was just finished a month ago, and I was careful to save it.  However, too many techies were working on the original computer and the new laptop and something happened.  I’ve spent hours looking for it and no show.  I’m posting this silly chapter just for nothing.  But at least this novel (all over the map and unfinished….) hasn’t disappeared.  It has its moments.

Lady Nyo

 

Bucon and Obadiah…. CHAPTER   From, “Devil’s Revenge”

 

“Father”.

 

Obadiah and Bucon sat before a smoky fire, two pairs of legs stretched out towards the low  burning logs. Boot leather was drying and cracking from the heat like fried pork skins. Bucon was packing a white clay pipe with tobacco and leaned to the hearth to pick up a red coal with his fingers. The smell of burning flesh did not seem to alarm him.

 

An Arch Duke of Hell, Chief Demon of Hatred, Bucon looked through the haze of pipe smoke at his youngest son. Secretly Bucon was proud of Obadiah. He exhibited the important issues of venality and depravity that dovetailed with his own. He definitely was a chip off the old block.

 

Ah, humanity had gone flat, become flabby, uninteresting. Since the French Revolution the ground had gone fallow. Hatred was hard to sow right now, these early years of the 19th century. A kind of prosperity with this Industrial Revolution had begun to spread amongst citizens. Perhaps it was too early to tell, but there was hope in future conflict and overwork in these new mills and factories. Father’s daughters leaving their homes and spinning wheels had promise.   Money was certainly the root of all evil, but this new evil would have to fester a while. Hope for a better life did not leave much consideration for the growth of hatred. It would take time.

 

Bucon sighed, sending a black, tarry smoke from his lungs. The crusades were long over but what a wonderful time that was! Such invigorating events…all steeped in violence and contention. Religion certainly kept those fires burning amongst mankind.

 

Bucon had five invisible eyes and with the two glittering black ones on his face he could see all activity of humanity on the seven continents. Spreading hatred and contention was fine, but what really got the bile going was interfering with the natural sentiment between men and women. He could spend all day and night sowing discord and disgruntlement, jealousy and malice between a man and his wife but he had to be careful. Jealously was the domain of some particularly nasty Jewish demons and although they were all in this world (and others) together, there was still a question of overstepping territories. When done, well, they tended to act as their natures dictated. In heated spades.

 

“Father”.

 

Bucon looked over at Obadiah and thought: “What a fop”.

 

Dressed in a black wool suit with spit polished boots, a shirt and cravat whiter than virgin snow, Bucon sneered at him. Bucon’s own linen was always limp and dingy, his boots regardless of polish dull and the pores of his face pitted with the black leavings of sin. Bucon wondered if Obadiah really was of his seed.

 

“Father, what do you counsel here?”

 

If Obadiah’s clothes were a better cut, his heart certainly belonged to Daddy.

 

“Well, son, tell me again. Exactly what is it you are seeking? Is it this mortal mortal woman you are clamoring about? I already told you you could have a million of them with the snap of your clean fingers.”

 

Bucon looked at his own hands. He had bitten them to the quick and dried blood encrusted his fingers. Sowing hatred was hard work. A thought occurred to Bucon.

 

“Have you fallen in love, Obadiah?”

 

His son’s eyes flashed and an elegant sneer appeared on his countenance.

 

“Love? Do you think that possible, Father? Am I not your own son?”

 

Bucon spat into the fire, his stream of spit becoming a little snake screaming as the flames consumed it.

 

I wish those little devils wouldn’t do that. It always startles me..

 

Bucon was old as sin, older than original sin. But he wondered. He had seen a lot in his endless time. Not only mankind was changing. Even demons could be effected by outside forces.   Obadiah was certainly his son, but influences surrounding him could have made some inroads into his thinking. This would do the trick. Or better, could undercut the natural ‘trickery’ embedded so deeply in such fellows.

 

Bucon sat and thought over the options. He spit again but slammed down his foot on the snake, crushing it. No scream from beneath his boot.

 

Influences such as the Enlightenment, the Romantics in literature, music, could give pause to a waffling demon’s natural tendencies. This ‘turn the other cheek’ of this Christian God was only a tremor in the bedrock of their natural existence. Better the ‘eye for an eye’ of the Old Testament. At least that would keep the wars flowing.

 

Ah, Evil might be banal but it’s still hard work.

 

Bucon had a thought. “Gettin’s is keepin’s, son?”

 

Obadiah’s tight smile showed he understood the reference. Bullfinch’s words interpreting a scene between Agamemnon and Achilles.

 

“Perhaps, Father. This other is the target. The women only stands between us.”

 

Ah, thought Bucon. That Obadiah didn’t blast her away said reams. Yes, his son was smitten, was softening. Some Demon. Any further weakening would lead to defeat.

 

“Well, son, what is it you want from me?”

 

Obadiah stared into the fire. “I have to figure out who to trust, who to gather in for this fight.”

 

Bucon thought his choice of words was interesting. “Trust” wasn’t exactly a stable word to use when referring to demons.

 

“Well, you know who your opponent is gathering in?”

 

Obadiah didn’t immediately answer, and Bucon thought perhaps his son didn’t.

 

“I do know he’s consulted with Abigor already. Heard some word about Andras.. and he’s researching possibilities in Celtic mythology.”

 

“That would be natural, son. Your opponent has his roots there. But if he’s dealing with Druids, he won’t get much help from them. Those folk see Demons as offshoots of Christianity. Rather a narrow bunch, I’d say.”

 

(to be continued….)

 

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2007-2014

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5 Responses to “from “Devil’s Revenge”, a random chapter”

  1. K. A. Brace Says:

    Jane…Bummer!…I’ve taken to printing out at least one copy of everything. And twice a month I save all my documents to disks. I feel so bad for yuou. I wrote this really great Leonard Cohen type song a month ago. ?It was really good and I think I must have hit don’t save and lost it. Tried to recreate it but it was never the same. Redundancy is the only way to be safe. Best of luck. >KB

    Like

  2. TR Says:

    Love how a conversation between father and son has such suspense. You write beautifully building the character in a few well chosen words and creating a longing to understand more. xxTR

    Like

  3. ladynyo Says:

    Hi TR….this book has been more fun for me to write than anything so far. I love the characters….they just float in and out around me. lol. it seems that they are truly writing the book, and I am just their scribe. it’s a high energy novel, and there is a lot of humor and strange stuff in it. it kept me entertained for a couple of years and then I started to get ‘serious’ about stuff. Think that was a big mistake! I think when we write to entertain ourselves, we do better. It’s a huge book, and the ending is in place, and I was told that no publisher would publish 220,000 word ‘first’ novel….so I might publish it on Createspace later this year. It has a lot of sex, or sexual issues, and I was afraid that this would ‘queer’ readers, but those who have read chapters don’t seem to be bothered by this stuff…the story, and more so, the characters show enough energy in themselves to carry this ‘all over the map’ (and back into history…due to ley lines…) novel forward.
    Thank you, TR! for reading and liking this chapter. Actually, the character Obadiah comes from my first (and never to be published) novel…”Heart of the Maze”….and I ‘borrowed’ him to be the bad guy here amongst devil-human characters. Actually, my favorite character in this fantasy novel is Madame Gormosy…who is both male and female with a shake of her powdered 18th century head. I developed her from a pantheon of 16th century demons/devils I came across in a book. She doesn’t have a cruel bone in her/his body, and is a riot. I will post a chapter soon that introduces her and her antics.

    Again, thank you for reading this random chapter of “Devil’s Revenge’…though an early book, it’s one of my favorites.

    Hugs,
    jane

    Like

  4. ladynyo Says:

    Just lost my reply to you, KB. I hate this window 8.1. And I am sorry to hear of your own composing loss. Big bummer! And you are right about printing out our work: I no longer trust memory or these so-called saves.
    Best, Jane….did I mention I hate Windows 8????

    Like

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    Like

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