CHAPTER IX
Fathers and sons
A sweltering anxiety swathed the City of Man when its people took to the streets to watch the giants, Sansael leading their march down the main road toward the desert.
They carried supplies for the coming battle. Sansael also had a letter of the king so that the towns and villages along the way would provide them with shelter and food. Mostly small communities of fifty to three hundred inhabitants that flourished near water sources, such as rivers, oases, and wells. But later settlements began to emerge supplied by the extensive network of aqueducts envisioned by Enos and constructed due to the tireless labor of the giants. Their unusual strength and agility made them a remarkable work-tool in the most different branches and crafts, such as agriculture, construction, cargo transport, and forging. Their abilities matched the best of both human and angelic natures.
Moving with incredible speed and considerable resistance to the rigors of the desert, the giants advanced fearlessly to the eastern border of the kingdom. In the unbelievable three-day mark, they reached the farthest of the villages, Morinah, a modest settlement of goatherders, on the edge of the line of barren hills where the lands of the Sons of Adam ended.
Sansael proved himself a natural born strategist by intuiting that the invasion forces would most likely approach the kingdom by Morinah. At the foot of the hills, which formed a compact natural wall, Morinah stood, with its little more than sixty inhabitants, before the only passage that linked the immense desert in front of it with the domains of Enos behind it, a narrow and steep gorge located in the middle of the two largest hills. Half a dozen men could not march shoulders together down that winding road where the sunlight barely penetrated.
Unsure of his military instincts and fearing that the invading forces could decide to bypass the line of hills to the south, a more arduous route, however, possible, Sansael dispatched scouts in various directions with the intention of locating the enemy.
While waiting for news, the giants set up camp in Morinah. The next few days dragged on in tedious waiting. But, not for that devoid of worldly pleasures, welcome to divert the minds of the giants of the coming battle.
An interesting facet of giants was in their appreciation for simple things, an inherited trait of their angelic parents. And, if there was one thing that abounded in Morinah, it was simplicity.
Although receptive, the villagers had at first been somewhat suspicious. After all, they had never seen a giant, only heard rumors about them, which they thought were quite exaggerated to be true. However, at the end of their first week together, a bond of genuine friendship and respect grew between the villagers and the giants, a reflection of the much they shared, especially the taste for outdoor living, in contact with the land and the elements. Many giants lived and worked in the city, but their hearts never depart from nature.
Sansael, however, could not enjoy the peace in Morinah. As much as he sought to relax, his thoughts were always on the approaching enemy.
Yet, there was a giant woman named Eronen, aqueduct builder and daughter of Seraph Camael with Atrien, a human writer and philosopher, who whistled at Sansael. She was troubled by the terrible burden he carried, which compelled him to recollection and loneliness. Eronen began to accompany Sansael on his walks to the desert limits where the scourge of Enoch could reach.
During the week they had together, Sansael became fond of Eronen, the sweetness of her words and the canned smile of that young woman with red hair like fire. Her presence raised his soul and calmed his worries, while Eronen soon discovered that her heart had been stolen by Sansael, the one of strength equaled only that of angels.
On the night prior to death and destruction, Sansael and Eronen joined their bodies on the stony ground of the highest hill peak. In their nakedness, witnessed only by the strong winds that lashed the region as ghostly voices, Sansael and Eronen planted the seed that would bring about the firstborn of their race. For, until then, no giant had conceived, whether with angel, human or another of their race.
The sunrise would bring confirmation that Sansael had wisely anticipated the enemy's movements. For one of the scouts returned in a disheartened race. Exhausted and thirsty, he had sighted Enoch's army less than a day's journey from Morinah.
Immediately, Sansael ordered his comrades to prepare for battle.
From the back of Goroth, Umam signaled his troops to set up camp that night. The march had been exhausting in the last few days, but Umam did not care. Their discipline remained impeccable and they were well supplied by hundreds of wagons crammed with water, breads, cereals, and salted meat, in addition to the milk of goats and the eggs of birds.
While the tents were being armed, the bonfires lit and the horses gathered in the enclosures, Umam dispatched scouts to the inhospitable and gloomy line of hills ahead.
An exploratory force, with about a hundred men, led by the Fourth Company of the Dark Helmets, was received, in the middle of the narrow gorge that they had located between the hills, by Sansael and two other giants. The trio of defenders surprised them with their superhuman agility and strength.
It was a slaughter.
Although they had never taken a human life, the giants did not take prisoners. From the top of the hills, other giants watched in horror their brothers wash the soil of the passage with the blood of their enemies, which sprouted abundantly under the merciless blows of their swords. The giants, however, did not celebrate their first victory, only contemplated contrite the stupidity of war, and prayed to God to give them strength before such an ordeal.
Terrible was the fate given to the brigade of regular soldiers who closed the vanguard of the Dark Helmets and fled in the face of the mortal efficiency of the giants. They paid the price for the bad news they brought to their commanders. In an explosion of homicidal cholera, Umam ordered the execution of the entire brigade for escaping combat. They were tied to stakes and killed by the Second Royal Regiment of Archers. Then, their heads were cut off and hung on spears arranged at the entrance to the camp, serving as an example to future deserters and cowards.
Dawn brought a clear picture of the opposing forces. Both Umam and the giants were creatures gifted with superior eyes, possessing a keen reach like that of angels.
From the peak of the highest hill, Sansael assessed the enormous force laid out by the plain below. It numbered approximately four thousand infantrymen, one thousand archers, six hundred horsemen and two hundred sled-drawn battle chariots. A formidable opponent to his little band of brave men and women. However, the giants were very well positioned, a tribute to Sansael's military leadership.
The giants had entrenched themselves at the top of both sides of the passage. The aggressors would have to expose themselves to a reckless frontal attack if they wished to break Sansael's defenses. Their only other option would be to bypass the mountains to the south, which would take months of march and seriously compromise their water and food stocks. Besides, those who survived the rigors of the desert would arrive hopelessly hungry and ragged at the gates of the City of Man.
For Umam, that was not a possibility. Therefore, he organized an exploratory attack to assess the strength of the defenders. The assault would be headed by the First Battalion of the Dark Helmets, with a contingent of more than six hundred men, and supported by the King's Third Lancer Regiment, endowed with a complement of one hundred and fifty soldiers.
At that first moment, Umam avoided employing a greater force, fearing that the narrowness of the passage would congest their advance.
Lameque accompanied the unfolding of the battle at the entrance of his tent. The king still dreamed of an easy victory before those he called the lesser sons of Adam. Bored, Lameque remained oblivious to military affairs, and had not even learned of the defeat of the Fourth Company of the Dark Helmets, but God's warriors would apply a harsh lesson to Lameque's arrogance.
The king watched his men be torn apart by the blades of the giants, who kept jumping to the passage, striking down their enemies, and throwing themselves back to the top of the hills before their foes could effectively react.
Enoch's platoons fell without gaining a foot of land or collecting a drop of blood from the giants, who battled with the same cold efficiency of their angelic parents. Their movements were economical and precise in cutting off limbs and tearing the flesh of the warriors of Enoch. By the end of the massacre, the invading wedge had been eliminated to the last man.
Rumors of the disaster spread like a fire in dry straw through the Enoch camp, severely crushing the already shaken morale of the troops. The illusions of a quick victory, so proclaimed by their leaders, faded before a skilled and determined opponent.
The night came on the wings of a sullen Lucifer, enraged at the initial failure of his worshippers. Lucifer met with Lameque and Umam in the luxurious royal tent. Lameque was a shadow of the confident monarch that morning. His paranoia and fear of death, which had so well served the Devil's purposes to corrupt his spirit, now proved a hindrance, for they had paralyzed the king's will, reducing him to a wretched coward.
Lamech gestured his arms nervously like a bird of evil omen, cursing his life and his crimes, unable to make decisions, merely swearing against God and His angels.
Disgusted, Lucifer commanded Umam to spare him from that shameful spectacle. Umam grabbed Lameque by the neck and, with one of his claws, slit his father's throat. The blood spattered heavily on the conference table and struck the robes of three of the eight military commanders sitting around it. The king fell with a ghastly grimace of agony emblazoned on his face.
Faced with Lucifer's undisputed power, no nobleman dared to protest the murder of Lameque, thus Umam was crowned king of Enoch.
Lucifer dispatched Beelzebub to the Palace of the Covenant with instructions to Cain that he should promptly execute the heirs of Lameque. With the grief of one destined to put an end to their own lineage, but being impossible to disobey his master, Cain ordered that Tubalcaim and Naamah should be brought before his throne.
The couple appeared in the company of their three children, the little princes Tori, Maseque and Sammel, respectively of twelve, ten and nine years of age. Cain served them the best wine from the royal cellar mixed with a painless poison. The ill-fated family fell asleep at the foot of the corrupted throne, plunged into the sweet sleep of death, in a strange way blessed to finally deliver them from that tormented kingdom.
Cain then proceeded as Regent of Enoch only in name, delegating de facto power to the Great Council of Priests and retreating to his chambers at the top of the palace's main tower, never to be seen again by human eyes.
The dawn witnessed a Lucifer of brilliance even more magnificent than usual. With his bare hands, he laid the crown of Enoch on Umam's head. Lilith's ghastly son paraded before his troops on Goroth's back, proudly sporting the royal scepter.
In his coronation speech, Umam the Usurper promised Lucifer a crushing victory over God's warriors.
The Devil settled on the highest cloud in the sky to watch Man, the most loved by the Creator, shed his blood, not for Him, but in his nefarious glory instead. And that was the essence of Lucifer's vengeance. Hence, his smile as the humans of Enoch marched with full force to the decisive assault, wielding hundreds of banners with Lucifer's coat of arms, the white trident on the blood background.
Umam personally commanded the frontal attack on Goroth's back. He had on his head the crown of Enoch and in his right hand a long, sharp spear.
Though alerted by the angels, nothing would have prepared the giants for the dreadful sight of Umam and his dragons. They were like a shadow of terror consuming the courage of their opponents.
The giants faltered, impelled to drop their weapons, and run away from those monsters. But before they did, Sansael, resisting his own fear, raised his sword above his head and shouted, defying evil at the top of his lungs. Invigorated by the bravery of their leader, the giants followed with provocative screams as they brandished their weapons madly.
The dragons came in tight formation, flying far beyond the reach of the giants. They spat their flaming sulfur breath on the helpless inhabitants of Morinah.
Cries of terrible pain and death filled the air, the giants rushed to leave the trenches to save the villagers, whom they had been so fond of in recent weeks.
“Stay where you are!” ordered Sansael. “They're forcing us to retreat! If we do, they will take our positions and the battle will be lost!”
No giant left their post, but many were the tears that descended from their eyes, including those of Sansael, as they watched helplessly the slaughter of the innocent. The villagers were calcined, and their home reduced to piles of incandescent ash.
Umam became even more enraged with the enemy. His cruel ruse had failed to dislodge them, leaving him only the solace of the killing. Still, Umam laughed with pleasure at the villagers writhing in the affliction of death.
Being insatiable their appetite for destruction, Umam's army fell like the plague upon the giants. The columns of lancers were the first to feel the thread of the swords forged in the City of Man. Hundreds of them perished in the initial shocks, with their advance covered by a fury of arrows, which, given their proximity with the enemy, did not distinguish between defenders and attackers, killing dozens of lancers, still, managing to claim the first injuries, mainly on arms and legs, from a few dozen giants.
Strong and powerful, however, the giants continued to fight unshaken. Piles of bodies began to accumulate around them. Each blow of their blades killing many enemies each time. Sansael even eliminated a group of seven lancers with a single brandish of his sword.
Soon the soil of the passage was covered in red, the blood making it slippery under the raw boots of both armies.
At Umam's sign, the archers laid down their bows, drew their swords and advanced. They were escorted by fierce cavalry charges. The battle became more savage and desperate.
The first giant to fall was Fanazer, under the spears of five knights of the Dark Helmets Elite Brigade. Fanazer had been a quiet gardener, but in his last breath he gathered enough strength to take with him three of his tormentors. With a sharp blow, he cracked the skull of two of them, then dropped his sword through the chest of the third. Two of the dragons came over a young giant, a musician named Ka'rez, and made him to pieces with their fetid jaws. Ka'rez's best friends Joran and Tomazonael avenged him, jumping each one on the back of one of the winged beasts, piercing their thick scales with their swords. The dragons' dark blood splashed on the ground like acid, releasing a cursed odor.
Goroth let out a dreadful cry at the fall of its kindred and hurried at Joran and Tomazonael, despite Umam's shouts for him to stop. But Goroth would not listen to him and threw Umam to the ground, while its powerful tail hit the two young giants, breaking many of their ribs. Goroth then burned them alive with the flames that exploded from its mouth.
Faced with that horrendous scene, Eronen ran valiantly, but thoughtlessly toward Goroth. The dragon stood up on its potent legs and spat fire on the woman, who was shrouded in murderous heat, her skin dissolving like paper. Still, not until she finished the remaining steps to cast her sword in the dragon's heart. The fire went out on Goroth as the beast fell sideways. So died the greatest of all dragons. Yet, this legendary feat claimed a terrible prince from Eronen.
She had been left between life and death, burned from head to toe, blind from both eyes, with her eyelids, ears and lips distorted like the wax of a glowing candle.
Umam approached Eronen to avenge Goroth.
He had lost his spear in the fall, but still carried his sword which he raised upon his crowned head to end the woman. He struck her with a smile that faded when his blade was held close to Eronen's neck by Sansael's sword.
The two warriors plunged into a vicious duel. Lilith's darkest son swore and spat as if he had come out of the Abyss itself. Sansael could barely defend himself from Umam's violent blows. Twice, he struck Sansael, opening first a deep wound on his left arm and then a superficial cut on his right thigh. Umam broke Sansael's shield in half with such energy that he threw the giant with his back on the blood-soaked floor.
“You are weak as your God,” Umam said, pointing his sword at Sansael's heart. “Die, you worm!”
Umam mustered all his strength on that final onslaught, but Sansael reacted faster, turning his body to the left. Umam's blade barely missed Sansael before it stuck itself into the hard soil. The villain, however, did not enjoy the same luck, for Sansael, turning his sword upwards, impaled his torso.
The three remaining dragons roared mad at the fall of their unholy king. They advanced on the giants with an abyssal fury. Without repeating the mistake of their kindred, they remained in the sky instead of fighting on the ground. They began to incinerate everyone in the path of with their infernal breaths, not differentiating between friend or foe. More than fifty giants were killed by the monsters in their shallow flights, before Sansael, acting on pure instinct, made a huge leap toward the nearest beast. All the strength of his superhuman legs projected him at an unimaginable height. Even Lucifer was surprised.
Sansael returned to the ground in a crash, raising a thick cloud of dust and opening a crater under the impact of his feet. The dragon's head and corpse fell each to one side of Sansael. Two other giants followed his example and, jumping magnificently into the air, beheaded the remaining two beasts. Seized by dread, Enoch's remaining soldiers rushed in chaotic retreat into the desert, abandoning weapons, vehicles, and animals on the battlefield.
From the top of his cloud, Lucifer observed the disaggregation of his army and the explosion of joy that followed as the giants celebrated their irresistible victory by hugging each other. The Devil's hand slid to Mephistopheles. His hatred blocked his judgment. The fear of war with the angels, the destruction of his kingdom in the Abyss and the end of demons. None of it mattered anymore. All Lucifer Morningstar desired, when he drew his sword and plunged to the giants, was blood. And blood, he reaped in excess.
Unlike the others, Sansael had no time to celebrate. He ran to Eronen and tried to hold her, but the young woman's brittle skin loosened, sticking to his fingers.
The giants were silent in the face of Eronen's pain and Sansael's despair.
At that moment, the Devil came down in their midst. Never a human nor a giant had faced an angel in battle. And in fact, they stood no chance against Lucifer, who moved so quickly that they could barely tell him apart, looking like a trail of light flickering wildly through the air.
Mephistopheles severed two dozen heads and limbs before the first corpse even hit the ground.
In the blink of an eye, more than four hundred giants had already fallen, leaving no hope for the others, when the miracle occurred. An angelic phalanx surrounded the Dark Lord as fast as it had appeared.
The giants were finally able to meet their attacker. The Devil had an expression of beastly pleasure and was covered in the blood of his victims in such a way that the gold of his armor and the bright of his blade gave way to a thick, sticky red.
Michael commanded the phalanx which encircled Lucifer. In the face of that numerous, heavily armed force, not even the most powerful of the Seraphim offered resistance. Lucifer laid down his sword and was chained by his wrists and ankles to heavy shackles forged in the First Heaven.
“The angels have come to help us!” cheered the giants.
“No, Adam's warriors,” said Michael, unable and unwilling to lie. “Our orders were to intervene only if the Enemy or one of his demons hurt a human.”
“Did God give those orders?” asked Sansael as he stood up with Eronen's wounded body in his arms.
“Yes, of course,” Michael replied.
“Fools!” shouted the Devil, with a laconic smile. “You gave your blood for Him. And He abandoned you, as He did before with me. That is your pay!”
“Get him out of here!” ordered Michael.
A squad of angels took off with Lucifer.
Michael turned to Sansael to encounter a face turned harsh and hostile. An expression found in many other giants.
“Do not believe the lies of the Enemy, Sansael, son of Gabriel,” advised Michael. “For the wisdom of the Lord is greater.”
“No, my friend!” countered Sansael. “Go back to your hiding place and tell your Lord that I have fought not for Him, but for my king, my people, and my city. Tell Him that an absent god is the same as a no god. He abandoned us in the most pressing time. For now, I am the one who abandons Him.”
Michael hesitated in the face of Sansael's frustration. He knew that the giant possessed a virtuous heart. Michael wanted to find the right words to ease his pain.
“Go!” cried the giant.
Michael departed. The rest of the phalanx followed him.
The giants searched Enoch's wagons for any medical supplies they could find, bandages made of fine fabric and medicinal herbs in the form of ointments and teas that helped Eronen stay alive. Still, had it not been for her being as a giant, with a body endowed with superhuman strength, she would never have resisted. Despite that, Sansael knew that Eronen did not have much time. He needed to get her to the attention of the healers in the capital as soon as possible.
Sansael then coated the inside of one of the wagons with thick carpets taken from Lamech's tent and rested Eronen tenderly on them. Sansael took the harness in his hands and moved faster than any horse. In fact, he drove the wagon with such vigor that the other giants, carrying only weapons and shields, were quickly left behind in the shadow of the clouds of dust that Sansael's boots and wagon wheels lifted. It was two days of unbridled race to The City of Man.
This achievement was immortalized as one of Sansael’s most notable.
Even after handing over his beloved to the care of the healers, Sansael, at no time, left her side. He even refused to let them treat the deep cuts that the harness had caused to his hands and the prolonged race to his feet, for all their attention he wanted given to Eronen. His sacrifice was rewarded since the healers were able to stabilize her. Even though for a painful and difficult existence.
Eronen had been permanently disfigured and trapped in bed as Goroth's fire consumed the flesh of her legs beyond any recovery. She relied on the care of others to eat, drink, and cleanse herself; she wore only bandages, which required regular changes as they became dirty in the putrid that flowed from her incurable wounds.
Sansael, however, never abandoned his wife, remaining devoted and caring to her needs. He did not have to work for the couple lived off the rewards granted by the king for their defense of the kingdom.
Day and night, Sansael remained at the edge of Eronen's bed, ready to serve his wife. And she endured, first out of love for her husband and then for the baby she found herself pregnant with from that one night they had together. Still, Eronen languished in plain sight, the victim of her severe injuries that refused to improve. Not for Sansael's dedication and the healers' hard work, she would not last much longer.
Many prayed for Eronen for considering her a divine blessing, a sign of the Creator, after all never a giant woman had been with child. Some giants even believed that the fate of their race had changed and that they could come to form their own families. They tried to procreate with each other as with ordinary men and women.
However, the heir of Sansael and Eronen proved to be a unique case for which there was never any explanation. And though it inspired joy in many, it caused envy and resentment in others. Still, these were not numerous enough to speak openly against the newborn.
Oblivious to the outside world, Eronen carried out her burden to the excruciating end. Her soul only abandoned what was left of her body when she heard the first cry of her son.
Sansael mourned the death of his wife, who was finally able to rest. He swore to raise their son as a man worthy of the mother he had. And he called him Gabriel, in honor of his angelic father, whom he had not ceased to love, even after reneging on God.
The months before Gabriel's birth saw the long, arduous return of the remaining warriors of Enoch to their city. Few found their way back; most were lost in the treacherous vastness of the desert, and of those no bones were seen again.
Among the survivors was the young Karin, the ordinance of Lameque who had witnessed Umam the Usurper assassinate the king before the War Council. A loyal servant, Karin carried with him the knife of Cain, which his king held at the waist at the time of death and had been despised by Umam. Karin intended to hand over the knife to the rightful heir to the throne. But upon arriving at Enoch, he found out about the end of the royal lineage with the deaths of Princes Tubalcaim and Naamah and their three children. Unable to carry out his mission, Karin decided to return the cursed knife to its original owner, Cain.
However, Cain remained inaccessible, enclosed in the main tower of the palace. Without fading, Karin convinced his sister, the servant responsible for taking meals to Cain, to hide the knife under the breadbasket. That afternoon, when she returned to collect Cain's lunch tray, as usual left by him outside the locked door of his quarters, she realized that the knife had disappeared from under the basket.
Those who survived the desert crossing came to encounter a city steeped in darkness and decay. Once confident and proud of its fate, Enoch had become a pale reflection of itself, cowed and diminished in the face of the humiliating defeat of its army. The inhabitants of Enoch befell victims of the very evil they had so fearfully embraced. Numb by their dark thoughts and unspeakable desires, born on satanic altars soiled with human blood, they feared death above all else.
In their madness, they had forgotten that death was God's supreme gift to Man, the gateway to Paradise.
Yet, evil had rooted in their hearts and devoured their wills, driving them away from the grace of creation and feeding their hatred for themselves and their fellowmen.
All manner of violence and perfidy was released through the streets and houses of Enoch. To those seduced by evil, it was the ultimate spiral of self-destruction. The few remaining Dark Helmets proved incapable or unwilling to intervene. They were constrained to the protection of the Palace of the Covenant and the satanic temples, abandoning the population to themselves, as a result they would end decimated by the crumbs of economic and social chaos.
Crops collapsed, trade ceased, and public services disappeared. Hunger, thirst, plague, and uncertainty spread rapidly. Fearing looting, the priests forbade the faithful access to the places of worship. Lucifer remained a prisoner of the angels, and the other demonic deities had given up Enoch. Those strong or desperate enough to face the rigors of the desert left the city by the thousands. Some perished by the severity of the elements, while others died under the blades of those who became bandits. However, some refugees found shelter in the villages and oases of the eclipsing kingdom, which became swelled by the flow of civilians as the power of the throne deteriorated rapidly and local lords began to fight each other for the precious springs of water.
Noteworthy was the mischievous attempt by Satanist priests to establish a new and compact center of power, away from the emptying capital. The evil clergy planned to take for themselves the largest village of the dying kingdom, Osbara, enslaving the locals and erecting a new pyramidal temple to Lucifer. To this end, they gathered a rich caravan with more than two hundred wagons crammed with the treasure of Enoch. Thousands of pieces of gold, silver, copper and platinum, plus opulent stocks of ivory, priceless stones, fabrics, and blocks of the finest marble. Such wealth was escorted by the last company of Dark Helmets that they were able to muster, a heavily armed, improvised contingent of five officers and one hundred and thirty soldiers.
The caravan was too seductive a booty to be ignored by the gangs that ravaged the roads of the former kingdom. Several of these bandits even had previous military training in the army or as Dark Helmets. The gangs operated together on this one occasion to confront the escort.
More than six hundred criminals ambushed the caravan around the Torn Passage, mere two days after it left the capital. The escort fought bravely, a final tribute to the legendary capabilities of the Dark Helmets, who slaughtered more than three hundred and fifty criminals in a desperate defense to the last man. No priest was spared after that. All were beheaded, and their leaders had their skulls hung on stakes by the side of the road.
The bandits then fought each other over the spoils. More than a hundred perished before the gangs eventually scattered to their hiding places with as much as they could carry. This ill-fated caravan closed the last page on the inglorious and perverse history of early Satanism. Cursed are those who embraced Lucifer and walked his dark path.
In the city of Enoch, there was one last living soul. From his quarters, at the top of the central tower, Cain contemplated the melancholic decay of his once beautiful city. The blown sand of the desert accumulated through the streets and roofs of houses and temples. The painting of the buildings began to fade because of the relentless sunlight and abandonment. Snakes, scorpions, and worms became its new residents.
The city languished along with its first monarch. C