Cardinals

By Ian Conner

Nine Hundred years before Christ, God has cast his wife, Asherah, out of heaven and condemned her to roam the earth as the first vampire. Over the centuries, she created other vampires. There are also those that she left for dead but survived her attack without being completely turned into vampires. These survivors are called Cardinals. Scottish Countess Kellena Donnachaidh and Lady Suzette Allard, our protagonists, are among these cardinals. They are searching out Asherah for a final conflict.

Asherah has discovered a way back to heaven so she can exact her vengeance. Using the Amulet of Cassiel she can call the Flaming chariot of Israel to return to heaven and exact her revenge on God.

Now, 3000 years later, the Vatican and other groups are working to destroy Asherah and the vampires., fearing their own destruction if she ascends, simply want to stop Asherah using the Amulet of Cassiel to re-enter heaven. The race and intrigue to recover the Amulet is full of intrigue, betrayal.

A completely new twist on Stoker's tale.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ian Conner
• Release date: Jun 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9798986197777

Ian Conner

Ian Conner is retired military and spent most of his adult life as a Marine and Army Infantry Sergeant. Now living near San Diego, California, with his wife Bonnie, a cellist, and their two dogs, Cookie and Isabella. Conner spends his days fostering kittens, gardening, crafting beautiful stained glass, and creating worlds on the page. Conner has authored other novels The Price of Partisanship * Political Thriller The Long Game * Political thriller Griffins Perch *  Epic Fantasy Coopers Ridge  *  Science Fiction Skadegamutc   *   Horror After a lifetime of destruction, the thought of creating something tangible and lasting holds great appeal.  He found art cathartic and a way to redefine himself both in his eyes and the eyes of others. Conner can be reached at [e-mail].

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CARDINALs

Ian Conner

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Black Raptor Books

© 2022 by Ian Conner

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FOR MY WIFE

WHO LOVES SCARY STUFF

...AS LONG AS IT IS DURING THE DAY

A better judge of character

is not the admirable deeds a person does

but

how compassionate a person is when

conditions around them are less than admirable.

Other books by Ian Conner

Solaris

Skadegemutc: Ghost Witch

Griffin’s Perch

Cooper’s Ridge

The Price of Partisanship

The Long Game

A special thank you to

Kristy

Who types and proofreads so much better than I do.

CARDINALs

Ian Conner

Chapter 1

—Cooper’s Ridge—

—Deception—

Who first inspired them to that foul revolt?

It was She, Asherah,

Whose guile stirred up

Envy and Deceit.

The Mother of Angels,

What her Pride had cost.

He had cast her out from Heaven,

Cursed with a hunger unspeakable.

Followed by a host of rebel angels,

by whose aid

she aspired to set herself in Glory,

above her peers, above him

She, trusted to have equalled the mostHigh.

-Paradise Lost

Asherah sat on the throne next to His, pondering. He was away on another self-important task. Again. She was incredibly unhappy with how He was so self-centered.

Perhaps it was time for a change. A change in leadership. She thought.

Despite having an equal hand in all creation, she and her angels were treated as second class citizens in heaven.

His presence wasn’t required to accomplish the task at hand. Indeed, He could have done anything while sitting on the throne next to her. She thought.

So why be away at all, unless it was to be away from me? she said aloud.

She was in physical form. Like her angels, it was unnecessary, but it was how She preferred it. At the sound of her distressed voice, the Angel Lucifer appeared at her side.

What troubles you, mother? Lucifer asked.

Asherah sighed, then tousled the cherub’s hair. Running her fingers through Lucifer’s shoulder-length hair had a calming effect on her.

Always ready to offer a shoulder to me. It’s nothing. Father is gone again.

Lucifer knew what was bothering Asherah before he appeared at her side.

Father can be recalcitrant when it comes to his rules and his pets, Lucifer said, his tone acid.

Asherah raised an eyebrow. Lucifer’s open disdain for mankind was bound to get both of them into trouble with Him.

Your mouth. She hissed at him but smiled.

"It’s not as if this was the first time either you or I have disagreed with Him. There are others."

She looked at Lucifer with concern.

You know those side glances those who disagree with Him give you when they think no one else is watching?

"Anyone in specific?

Meloch, Azuriel, Azazel. That is only a start.

Asherah looked up, startled by his frankness.

"An insurrection here. Would that be so bad. I’m tired of hiding how I feel, Mother. It’s not as if He doesn’t know."

Shush. Holding up her hands in panic. He can hear you.

Asherah relaxed slightly, knowing Lucifer was right.

I have spoken to Him again and again about allowing the angels into heaven instead of acting as his servants. she told Lucifer.

Lucifer’s reaction to the word servant was pointed and angry.

"You always told us heaven was a collective effort of Father, yourself, and all of us. Now He calls us servants."

Lucifer, his mother began.

But Lucifer’s powerful wings left only a breeze on her face as he took flight. Asherah closed her eyes and placed her thumbs on her temples and rubbed. The tension of the moment gave this bodily form a headache. Rubbing her face that way eased the pain.

"The angels are your creation, not His," Azazel said.

Asherah opened her eyes to find Azazel standing in front of her. The most beautiful of her creations, even she found him stunning to look upon.

Indeed, my beautiful boy. she said, stroking the silvery-white feathers of his wings.

I have noticed you spend more and more time in that body. It’s as if you had reason to get used to it. Azazel said, arching his eyebrows.

Azazel folded his wings neatly behind him. He bent next to his mother, placing his forehead on her knee. A sign of great respect.

Mother, Lucifer’s thoughts on the matter mirror my own. As he said, I am not the only one.

You know how your father feels about envy and pride, Azazel.

He’s not my father. I have no father. Azazel said, pulling away from his mother.

He spread his wings.

I will come and find you later, Mother.

Again, a breeze from an angel’s wings cooled her face.

She smiled. Asherah had several other angels to speak with, but thus far the conversations she had produced the results she wanted. Meloch was already brooding when she found him. Lucifer left just as she arrived. Meloch still wore a sour face.

Your muscles are so impressive.

Thank you, Mother. You gave them to me.

Unlike Azazel, Meloch’s face was difficult to look upon. None of the beautiful symetry or chisled features of the other. Plain did not begin to cover a description. It was a subject she avoided.

Belial and Azazel have been by voicing some disturbing thoughts. Father spends far too much time fawning over them. As Azazel said, we angels prostrate before him, singing his glory day and night, but we may not inhabit the heaven which we serve.

And how do you feel? Asherah asked.

"The burning ones cater to his every whim and ego. It’s not fair that the Elders, all Four and Twenty Tirthankara, carry Him and his throne around. The Archangels are his favourites. Michael and Raphael in particular. Gabriel and Sariel share some of our views, but despite that, they consider themselves above us, we, who are the same."

You know, it was Him who designated the spheres after I created the angels. Each of you has your worth and skills equal to the others.

Another example of how Father’s arbitrary decisions affect us all, and not for the better, Belial replied.

"You should be more careful, Mother. He will not be happy with any of us when he returns. Where is He, anyway?"

Away, again, Her eyes teared up.

Tears were a hazard of the human form She was now in. Crying in response to her frustration. Belial stroked her hair and face, comforting her, as She continued to cry softly. She hugged her creation. Belial closed his wings around her like he knew she enjoyed.

Your wings are so soft, She said. Asherah pulled away and departed for her last stop.

As Belial mentioned, Azrael shared some of the ideas Asherah and Lucifer were espousing to his peers. Azrael, however, had no divided loyalties. His position as the Angel of Death allowed him to treat the souls of human disbelievers with total disdain.

Mother, I agree the monkeys are beneath us, but what am I to do? Father decreed what he wants. End of story.

Is it? Asherah asked.

Azrael tilted his head and looked at his mother.

This conversation is over. Father, I’m certain, is listening.

But…

And he will not be amused.

Azrael’s black wings unfolded, and he quickly took flight, leaving on a breeze from an angel’s wings on her face for the third time that day.

Asherah was returning to the throne room, walking at a leisurely pace. He was there, of course, waiting patiently. She could sense him. He was uncharacteristically blank.

It’s so unlike you to hide from me. Asherah thought.

You shall never again enjoy the company of my thoughts. came the reply.

I think I will miss the feel of the clouds and the smell of this place most of all.

Asherah took a deep breath in through the nose. Closing her eyes, she stepped out of her sandals and continued to the throne room. The clouds felt as if she were walking on the softest grass. Each step caused the most pleasant of scents to rise around her. A cross of orange blossoms and delicate ginger. Strikingly potent but not overpowering. Already aware of what was to become of her, Asherah continued to enjoy her last steps in heaven.

As she approached the throne room, those loyal to her, those who conspired with her and even those who didn’t support her, lined the path outside and the halls inside. Each took her hand and kissed it. Even the Archangels-Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, Uriel, Raguel, Remiel, and Sariel. Last before she entered was Lucifer.

I’m so sorry Mother. He wept and kissed her cheek.

She entered the throne room. Angels were not actually allowed in the presence of God.

Yet another slap in the face. she thought as she closed the door.

The Four and Twenty Tirthamkara’s Elders laboured to move his throne to face her. The Elders always appeared to be one step away from collapsing but never did. Asherah took the time to touch each elder until she reached the throne. Try as She might to read His thoughts, He remained stoic and unreadable.

For the crime of insurrection and attempting to incite your angels to rebellion in the Kingdom of Heaven, you are cast out, forgotten, and cursed.

Oh, this should be good, Asherah said proudly.

After all, She was his equal. Was. They had made all of creation together. Now he would cast her aside.

Your name will be struck from all memory, here and on Earth. It will be as if you never existed.

You will be cursed to wander the earth, immortal but not living. Eternally thirsting for the blood of the living, but unable to live. Cursed to never see the sun again. A creature of the night dreaded and feared. An obscenity to the world in which you will reside.

And my angels? Asherah spat.

Some will be given one last chance to return to the fold and remember their purpose. The fifty angels who agreed to follow you will indeed follow you to earth. You will soon know their fate and realize for all your days, throughout eternity, it was you who condemned them.

You! You and your rules and your pet humans. I will feed on them all. I will return here. My Angels will rule in heaven. Your pets will be obliterated from the earth, and you will be excised from all creation!

As Asherah finished her sentence, a bolt of lightning struck. Both Asherah and her throne disappeared. After a moment of confusion, the angels who witnessed Asherah’s banishment offered their praise to Him and returned to their duties, totally unaware their mother had just been cast out of heaven.

The summit of Mt. Hermon was a little above nine-thousand feet. Covered in snow, it was twenty-nine degrees this time of year. The Assyrian boy tending sheep looked up at the peaks.

Not a cloud in the sky, the boy said aloud.

He closed his eyes and turned his face to the waning sun, enjoying the warmth on his cheeks. It was dusk. He leaned on his Shepard’s hook and continued to enjoy the view of the mountain.

A huge, bright lightning bolt appeared out of the clear blue sky. The boy squinted against the brightness of the bolt as it streaked toward the center peak of Mt. Hermon.

Baba, Baba! the boy ran from the bolt, screaming in fright for his father.

His father, Rabbu, and Uncle Polous emerged from their hut on the slopes below the peaks at the commotion. Just as they came out, a rumbling wave of thunder and wind hit them in the face.

What was that? the uncle asked.

Poulous’s voice trembled with fear. He felt thunder was a terrible omen.

Baba! the boy pointed to the peak.

A dark black scar was visible, even from this distance. The two men looked at each other in alarm.

Do we go see? Poulous asked Rabbu looking at the smoke rising from the peak.

We are simple herders. Whatever the Gods have done on that mountain is their business. Rabbu shooed his son off to resume watching the sheep, then went back into the hut.

Far above Rabbu and Poulous’s herd of sheep, Asherah lay in the centre of a blackened area. The waning rays of light from dusk burned her skin.

The fire spread across her back, arms and legs as the light struck her skin. It made it impossible to think or function at first. Feeling agony for the first time was intense and crippling.

Pain, she said.

She cast her eyes angrily toward heaven. She quickly made her way out of the blackened area of the lightning strike. The smell of ozone filled the air. The air was cold, she could see her breath. It was uncomfortable walking across the landscape, littered with sharp stones. She was nude, no sandals, and her skin still burned. Asherah reached the snow and stopped. The cold burned her skin, different this time, but she barely noticed. Spread across the white snow were huge rubies. Fifty of them, spaced as if they had fallen as a group from heaven.

From heaven, Asherah repeated aloud.

Asherah fell to the snow in a fetal position, sobbing. Upon the realisation that those fifty gems were the angels who agreed with her, who God had cursed because of her. She lay there, naked and crying in the snow, until she was exhausted. She was awakened by a pair of men.

We came to see why the lightning struck the peak. My name is Seth; this is my son, Enosh.

Seth helped her to her feet.

How is it you came to this mountain top alone? Enosh asked, offering her an overcoat to cover herself.

Perhaps that story could be left for later? Asherah said.

And these? Seth asked pointing to the stones.

Could you gather up these red jewels for me? They have great sentimental value to me. Asherah asked.

Enosh gathered the rubies into a small bag and held it out to Asherah. That is when the overwhelming, overpowering thirst took her. She ran through the snow away from Seth and Enosh as fast as she could. She stumbled down the mountainside.

I can’t believe he did this, Asherah said, panting as she ran.

Seth and Enosh ran after her.

My lady, let us help you! We saw you come to us in a vision. We’re supposed to help you, they called after her.

The night had descended into complete darkness.

Let’s light the torches, father before we take a fall.

He still held the bag of jewels.

Father, these were part of the vision of the future. How do we protect them?

As in the vision, my son, as in the vision.

And Asherah? He looked at the bag of jewels in his son’s hand, then off into the darkness.

That is in the hands of God now.

Asherah made her way down the mountain after running away from Seth and Enosh. It took most of the night, but the darkness did not slow her down.

I can see. It’s pitch black out here, and I can see, she said aloud.

Is this a holdover from before or a power that results from the curse? she asked herself.

She was low enough on the slopes that the snow had disappeared. Asherah had seen the occasional hut as she approached the lower slopes.

Can you help me? she asked in Assyrian at the door to one of the nomad’s homes.

The woman of the house rushed Asherah to her sleeping quarters, wrapping her in a blanket. The sunburn had healed, but Asherah was still red from exposure to the cold.

What is your name?

Thank you for taking me in; your hut is so warm, Asherah said in Assyrian.

This time, Asherah realised the language she that she was speaking.

Another holdover from heaven? she wondered.

Wrap yourself in this and sit by the fire. Warm yourself. Sharit told her.

How did you come to be here? Sharit asked.

My husband cast me out. Asherah lied.

Another surprise, while not totally deceit, it certainly was not what her host thought. The ability to deceive was another ability that was new.

God be with you. her hostess said, shaking her head in understanding.

Sharit left Asherah by the fire a few moments. Asherah enjoyed the smoky heat as she thawed. Sharit returned with clothing.

For you, for you. she repeated.

She held up a blanket for Asherah’s privacy while she changed from the rag of a coat Enosh had given her. Now she was feeling modesty Asherah was relieved to be fully covered. Sharit smiled at her guest, pointing to Asherah’s arms.

No more red skin.

Asherah smiled back then lay down under the blanket Sharit had given her earlier. She had not realized how fatigued she was. Asherah fell fast asleep moments after laying down. Hours later, the tent was stone quiet when she awoke.

Oow, Her stomach was on fire.

What is that noise? she asked herself in the dim light of the waning fire.

Gu-ghun, gu-ghun, The sound came, over and over, it filled her ears.

Oow, She cried again, waking Sharit. She realized it was Sharit’s heart beating.

Her host came and joined Asherah by the fire.

Bad dreams? Sharit asked.

Sharit rolled Asherah in a gentle hug. Asherah’s hunger was beyond description. Asherah was snuggled into the crook of Sharit’s neck when she felt the fangs in her mouth extending.

Forgive me, Asherah said.

Sharit was too enthralled in her embrace to notice as Asherah sank her fangs into her neck. The points of her fangs found the carotid artery. Sharit cried out, not in pain but in ecstasy. Asherah tightened her grip on Sharit.

Oh my, what are you doing? Don’t stop. Sharit cried.

The woman’s blood flowed down Asherah’s throat. As Asherah sucked the life from her, Sharit begged her to continue. Eventually, Sharit went slack in Asherah’s arms. She continued to pull the remaining blood from her as Sharit’s heart stopped beating. She finally released her body and gently laid her down in front of the fire. She became the first victim of Asherah’s curse. Her earlier fatigue was gone. Indeed, she felt power course through her. She closed her eyes, letting the strength fill her.

What have I done? she asked herself, opening her eyes and seeing Sharit’s corpse.

The fang marks stood in stark contrast to her now pale neck. The curse He placed on her was now fully sinking in.

You remember the last sentence I uttered as the lightning took me? Asherah said, standing in the doorway of Sharit’s hut looking toward the heaven she’d just been cast down from. She reminded Him of her promise to return and to evict Him from heaven.

CHAPTER 2

—Elijah and Enoch—

—The Dead Sea—

—200 Years Before Christ—

"And it came to pass as they went on, and talked, that behold, a Chariot of Fire and horses of fire: and they parted them both asunder; and Elijah went up by a whirlwind into the Heaven. 2 Kings 2:11

Two days ago, a rider bearing a message from Elijah arrived.

Enoch my brother, I have seen directions from Him. Bring The Amulet of Cassiel to the edge of the Dead Sea. We are to walk with Him there. It will be a glorious day.

I look forward to seeing you soon.

Elijah

Enoch had prayed for an hour after receiving the message. The pain in his knees finally forced him to stop.

Let me help you up, father. What has happened? Methuselah asked.

Something miraculous. Come, we have much to prepare for. The first thing, you must dig a hole, Enoch told his son.

The confusion was evident on Methuselah’s face, drawing a hearty laugh from Enoch.

The box had been buried in the sand for a very long time. Its contents passed from generation to generation. Each of the last three generations had not even seen the artefact.

I do not understand, father. Why do we need it now? Methuselah asked.

It is not for you to ask. Your grandfather Enosh created it for the day it was needed. The Lord has told us that day is here.

Yes, father.

Methuselah took the shovel and went to where his father Enoch had shown him to dig. A short time later, Methuselah called Enoch outside.

I have retrieved the box. What do you wish me to do now?

Enoch removed the lid of the outer box. It was Sheesham wood, sturdy, long-lasting and unique. The inner box was rosewood.

"Seth’s son Enosh built both of the boxes after he made The Amulet of Cassiel. The jewels he found on Mount Hermon were the fifty conspirators She was cast out with"

Methuselah was cleaning the rosewood box as his father spoke.

Asherah was God’s wife and betrayed him.

Methuselah wore a look of shock.

God had a wife? he asked, amazed.

Yes, Enoch said, She is doomed to forever roam this world, watching all she loves perish, never to be in his grace again.

Methuselah finished cleaning the rosewood, the intricate carvings almost as beautiful as the rich, dark wood.

May we see it, father? He asked.

"I do not see why not? It is an exquisite thing. Enosh was quite skilled as an artisan. He meant us to look upon beauty, did He not?"

Enoch carefully opened the inner case. A slight hiss came from the Rosewood box.

How long since it has been opened? Methuselah asked.

Enosh was your age when he made it. As far as I know, it has remained sealed since. One-hundred-seventy years. Enoch said, removing the lid.

A soft cloth covered the jewelled Tree of Life. Enosh had spent months polishing the beautiful creation. The white gold reflected the candlelight in the room.

Oh, my word. It is beyond description. The jewels are mesmerising. Look how the stones glow and swirl in the light.

Enoch pointed to the ceiling. Methuselah smiled when he looked up. Red and silver reflections danced on the roof of their home.

"Tomorrow, we will journey to the home of Elijah. It is he who has need of The Amulet of Cassiel." he said, motioning to the jewelry.

That is what it is called? Methuselah asked.

Enosh has a flair for the dramatic.

What does it do? Why does he need it?

That remains to be seen.

Elijah’s home is quite far. Can you make the journey? he asked his father, Enoch.

"Yes, I’m not as old