Superstitions

Of Rogues and Angels

Robin insisted that Michael and Sam should stay for night, and they had to agree. It was awfully welcoming of them. Michael was wary, though. Even if the leader of the gang wasn't planning anything in this regard, there was still a possibility that his subordinates would try to do something stupid. They were bandits, there was no telling what they would do once the alcohol gets to their brains. The dinner approached, and everyone once again began poisoning themselves with alcohol.

"Is it always like that?" Michael asked Robin, ducking under the chair sent flying at him. 

"Always, but that's the most interesting part of our humble occupation," he answered, making a giant gulp from his mug.

"Hey, lad," some gruff looking drunkard asked, "Where did you learn how to fight?" At that people became quiet for the most part. They were highly interested in that as well, as they hadn’t seen anyone beat their boss before. Sam was curious as well.

"I fought a lot," Michael said, "I served my birth father for sometime. If I say “those were the days”, I would be a big liar. But back then I did enjoy it.”

“Wait...was your Pa a merc of some kind?”

“Well, he likes conducting deals.”

“So he is a trader?” 

“Let’s suppose that it is true,” Michael chuckled. “Then we will simply assume that in the end I buddied with his rivals and killed him to take everything that bastard owned and even more.” 

“Yeesh, was it that nasty?”

“The man was the Devil,” a smirk on his face showed that he enjoyed the phrases with double bottom. “And I had no qualms about it until the metaphorical line was crossed. And then the geezer died, like a dog, chocking on his own blood while the sword was tearing apart his insides!” 

Seeing the faces of the people around, Michael coughed nervously. The reddish gleam in his eyes vanished as he sat back on his chair. He smiled apologetically.

“I am sorry. I sometimes get carried away.”

“Well...you sure did just that. A very picturesque imagery you’ve described.” 

“Oh, believe me, I’ve left out a lot of details. He too left plenty of scars.” 

"Scars, eh? Mind showing?" Smirked Robin and nudged him. 

Michael shook his head.

"Yes, I do mind," he said firmly, “Tell me good sir, mind undressing and running around with your treasures seen to all around? Same with me.

"Kid, there is nothing to be ashamed of. All of us have some," Robin gestured to the others. A few of them pointed at their 'reminders'. Michael responded with an annoyed sigh and made another gulp. The gang leader pressed on, “Ladies like the guys with scars.”

“You don’t seem to have a lover, good sir,” Michael noted dryly, taking a gulp. 

Sam curiously watched at the scene unfolding before her eyes. Her companion was hardly eager to press on the sore spot. So, here she was, ready to rescue the Lord of Hell from an unwanted conversation. Lest they poke the bear much for the latter’s comfort.

“I don’t really think you should ask someone about this, Robin,” said the young lady, “Can’t you see that...”

“Sam,” Michael leaned closer to her ear, “Careful, learn to keep track of what you say, especially now.”

“Well, I am sorry, I was just...” 

Michael raised his finger, “I get it. I really do. Not the best moment, though. Look, Robin, is the body torn by every tool of murder in disposal of all kinds of litigants such an appealing sight?”

“That’s what I wanted to say,” grumbled Sam. 

“Why, you should have started with this,” an innocent grin spread across her companion’s face.

“Alright, lads, I surrender,” Robin raised his hands, “Gee, aren’t you a stubborn one.”

The rest of the dinner went without any abrupt stops like this one. Both noble vagabonds ate in peace, before being shown to a spare roof under which to sleep, inside one of the wooden shacks. And by the looks of it, the concept of humour was not entirely lost to those laughing at a simple punch into face. Thus, they gave Sam and Michael the same room, albeit there were obviously some more to spare. So, it was either a humoresque or negligent example.  

This particular room had a double bed, covered in different furs for extra warmth. That is all. The owners had thought about everything, didn’t they? Humming under his nose, Michael examined their temporarily dwelling, while Sam was busy trying to guess what animals had sacrificed their pelts for a warm night of occasional visitors. Suddenly Michael picked up one of the furs (an especially dark one) and put it on the floor like it was a blanket.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked him.

"Well, I want to sit comfortably," he answered, landing on the mantle of medium sized beast, crossing his legs, “I will be your watchful guardian angel.”

“You can sit on the bed, you know.”

“Is this an invitation, milady?”

“No funny business, Michael, I want to make it clear. You just shouldn’t sleep on the floor.” 

With a hearty laugh the demon jumped on his legs. He then pointed a finger at her, with a smile glowing as noon sun.

“This is it, go ahead with it. Shower me with all mercy and scolding, dear.” 

“Are you...enjoying this?” 

“No!” Michael exclaimed and laughed, “No I am not. Be it someone else they would become a walking torch, but incinerating my companion is not on my list, so go ahead, exploit it.”

“You are unbelievable,” Sam sighed, sitting on the bed, “I expected to be boiled in hell and instead I’m stuck here. Maybe you are a part of my punishment?”

“I don’t believe it is hell. Too quiet. Besides, you don’t get burned in hell. It is cold down there. But you know what they say: “If the mountain does not come to Mohammed, Mohammed comes to the mountain.” A little part of my dearest plane of existence is near you, within me.” 

“Thank you,” Sam responded dryly.

“You are welcome,” beamed Michael.

While the young lady lied on the bed, resting her head on a straw-filled pillow, covered by a very unconventional blanket, her companion did not move from his spot.

"Michael," Sam whispered, before ice blue eyes were directed at her, “Why did you really let Robin win? I know you haven’t told everything, and we could have used the spoils.”

“What spoils, Sammy? The ones we will reap tomorrow?” At her confused expression, Michael chuckled, “How do I put it? Bandits are a small, yet dysfunctional society on their own. Carnal to some degree. The strongest thrive, and Robin is in charge. What would happen if I somehow undermined his authority on the matter? Why, I would ruin our generous host. So instead I asserted my dominance in the field few here cared for — morals. Lovely, isn’t it? Robin appreciated that I didn’t make him exsanguinate all over the floor, when I made it clear that I am able to, hence his welcoming behaviour afterwards. I could not let myself lose either. It would have looked like he had taken pity in us, and softness is not appreciated around here. Are you following?”

The girl only looked at him in a mixture of surprise and curiosity. He really had thought the matter through, in a matter of what? A couple of minutes of conversation, with the following fight which left a small room for consideration, and yet...he had concocted a plan, so simple by words, yet with execution most flawless and subtle. She got a glimpse of what the Devil was known to be: manipulative, ingenious in the ways humans not always understood. An apple had not distanced itself from the tree, it seemed. Then again, Michael must have fooled his parent to be where he was.

“What about your mother? Who could possibly...”

“A lot, dear. A lot of women could. The Devil must look appealing, you know? I don’t know my mother. Could be dead, tortured in the parts of hell I have no knowledge whatsoever.”

“And you are not concerned?”

“Look who is talking, Ms. ‘My parents wish to lynch me’. Why would I be concerned for someone I haven’t seen throughout my entire life?”

“Because you have a mother who hasn’t wronged you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Is she a human? If so, I don’t think she could have done anything.”

“Lilith is her name, ring any bells? It took them millennia to make a child that did not die from such unnatural, I would say unholy act of angel-demon promiscuity. Anyway,” with a smile Michael clasped his hands, “Enough about me. You have touched upon the matters divine enough as it is. Go to sleep, Sammy. What good is a story where all twists are revealed at the very start?” He spoke softly. This statement finally began her slow drift to the place where Morpheus reigned supreme.

After some time Michael could hear her quiet snoring and only then he could get up. Michael looked out of the window, which was merely a hole in the wall. The rain had started out there, steadily drumming on the roof. The dampness of the place was getting under his skin. The silence left place for the new flood of thoughts to come into his mind. That conversation had reminded him about the place he had left. Hell was not going to manage itself, it never did. But Michael found himself caring little, he held no admiration for that place. The King could enjoy all excesses in existence there, and still...it was hard to concentrate with all those never ceasing cries of agony.

Michael looked at the night sky, with a thoughtful expression on his face. Arms crossed, he leaned into the window hole.

“I know I am slacking on my job, Grandpa,” he mumbled, “Hell wouldn’t crumble in a couple of weeks, would it?” 

“Yes, it would.” 

Michael turned around, oddly calm. And even a new person standing nearby, leaning against the wall. A tall, bulky man in a white robe, blond, with golden eyes shining brightly in the dark room.  And the gaze wasn’t exactly friendly. On the contrary, that was the same look of distaste Michael had got used to. The young man beamed brightly, even a shining blue halo did not stop him. 

“Uncle-namesake, what a surprise,” he said, “To what do I owe a pleasure?” 

“You know exactly to what, Lucifer JR.”

Michael huffed and made a short laugh, “Come again? That’s one hell of a nickname, uncle Michael,” he lightly nudged the man, who looked as dead serious as ever. The hellish Michael coughed, “Still, care to clarify? And please, keep quiet, she is sleeping.” 

“Father wants you to go where you belong. In hell.”

“Harsh words. But there is a problem, I can’t. I don’t have fancy wings, my feathery relative.”

“That is why I am here. You will come with me, boy. You have been spared by us because so was father’s will. You have been put in charge as the only possible heir who knows that place well enough. Now you are ignoring the only thing you’ve been tasked with.”

Michael laughed into his fist, “Wait, you are the delivery boy now? Angels’ delivery service!” He made a salute. 

He was grabbed roughly by the edge of his tunic, easily lifted into the air. 

“You are right, brat. You, spoiled, wretched child of a wretched creature, who has been named after me as a joke.” 

“Oh, you think me living with it is any better, uncle? I hear prayers mentioning you, questionable pleasure. I was just that, a stupid radio tower that was supposed to eavesdrop on you. I would gladly change my name, but that’s not how it works, now, is it?” 

Michael was released from an uncomfortable grasp of a surprisingly rough angel.

“You are insufferable, kid. We are leaving.”

The demon looked around, until his eyes fell on the stirring lady on the bed. That’s it.

“Well, my virtuous uncle, you cannot let this poor innocent girl fend on her own, right?” 

“Don’t tell me you had nothing to do with this, she must have conducted a deal with you and got herself on the stake.”

“Nope. I do make deals, but I prefer other times. The more pleasures there are, the more interesting favours I may grant, bah,” both Michaels rolled their eyes, albeit for different reasons, “You have no sense for business, uncle. See? I am doing my father’s job, I am the lord of all evil,” the younger celestial smiled, “Anyway, back on tracks. She is innocent. I WOULD have known if she had done something.”

“There is only your word for that.” 

“Well, grandpa did not say anything to you about her, did he? I saved her, thus she escaped the punishment. You were not ordered to take her down. So...” Michael shrugged, “You know the big guy. He wants me to, at the very least, put her in a secure place. A place which is NOT hell.” 

“This is ludicrous. Father gave me orders to bring you where you belong.”

“Really now?” Michael smiled, “Let me guess, he said to ‘ensure that boy’s return to hell’?” 

The silence was all the lord of hell needed for a feeling of glee to arise. 

“He did, did he not? Thus, you have no order to BRING me to hell. If anything, you are supposed to protect me, so I come home in one piece.”

“Do you really think this is going to work?”

“Yep. This is all about me and my Dad always finding loopholes, huh? The apple, the wayward girl, you know the drill.”

“Yes, the apple sure is close to the tree,” the angel muttered. “I cannot let you cause any more chaos in this world.” 

“I am not causing chaos. All is HIS plan, correct? Past cannot be changed. And I don’t recall an Antichrist roaming around England. Which means I WON’T cause chaos. Are we done? I would pretty much love to return to my activity of beating the bush.”

The older Michael stared at his nephew, all in thought. He looked into the blue eyes of that human disguise, and saw the glint of his despised brother. The glee, the wicked grace and a spark of devilish nature. That spawn should have been destroyed the second Lucifer was killed by him. Yet, Michael didn’t want one of his beloved siblings to toil in that horrid place. Yet there was a perfect candidate for that wretched job. He hadn’t known that that would evolve babysitting the brat. 

“Fine, kid. Here is the deal.”

“Oh, a deal, I love deals,” Michael JR clapped his hands.

“No doubt. I AM bringing you to hell. I am not your personal guardian angel. But I will let you finish whatever you have. This witch is of little interest, we know for a fact that she DID engage in something...something.”

“Wait, you know?”

“As long as nothing ill happens, you are free to complete your self imposed quest. But I will be watching, nephew.” 

With that the angel disappeared, vanished without a trace. 

The young man huffed. Angels. The room was too small for two Michaels anyway. Tapping on the ground, the remaining celestial glanced at Sam’s sleeping frame, such fragile vial of mortality. But it seemed he would have to stay here for much longer. What a certainly unexpected surprise. He wondered if there was some spare booze left in the hall. 

Surprisingly Michael found some books in the treasury, getting in there was quite simple. Since it was no book store, and they were expensive like Cerberus’s rations, those were obviously stolen. The young man was reading for the rest of night. It was surely enlightening, because you don't read medieval books everyday. Michael was lying on his half of bed, turning the page of Drinkers' Mass. Sam started to steer and rubbing her eyes. 

"Morning, milady" Michael smiled, “Had a good night? No extra noises?” 

"Good morning," she said, "No, I didn’t hear anything...why do you ask?" Sam asked curiously. 

“Nothing, nothing at all,” her companion coughed.

“What are you reading?”

He showed her the book, but only received another look of confusion.

"In Latin?" 

"Yep, the language of civilisation, my dear. Even if they were dirty pagans at the start. But to be destroyed by pagans even worse...I can speak and read every language without even noticing," Michael smiled as Sam got up, “Chinese, Sumerian...Aramaic. Digressing a bit, do you think they have a bathroom?"

"A what?" 

Michael stared at her, then shook his head, muttering 'I hate this era’.

They were on the way to have some food. There was a lot of people already, level of loudness was the same as yesterday. It worked just as perfectly as a well-made watch, yet again surprising the young guests with the accuracy. Michael easily caught the mug flying into his face. He wondered what was so interesting so they talked about it so excitedly. All he had to do was to listen carefully, and that’s precisely what he did, telling Sam to do the same.

"Well, little birdie told us that Cardinal Cadagan himself will be traveling on our road."

"Isn't it that guy who almost burned you like a match?" Michael asked Sam.

“Yes. That’s him,” she responded without enthusiasm. "I wonder why he is here," she murmured.

“Not that hard to guess, is it? To reduce you to ashes, of course. That’s why I am here, to be your guardian angel. And yes, I won’t be leaving aside my lovely divine puns, they are the best in my repertoire. You know, with me...”

“I get it, Michael.”

"Well, well, what are you two lovebirds whispering about?" Robin asked, appearing out of nowhere. 

"If we were, then they wouldn't send the CARDINAL, would they? We are too insignificant, you see,” Michael made a gulp from the mug, which, too, seemed to emerge from nothingness.

"You got the point, lad. Hey, Butch! Bring us more booze!" Robin shouted. 

Named thin bandit was doing as ordered. Robin wasn't looking, but Michael saw that Butch took the mug and filled it from a very distant barrel, not from the common ones, albeit he was closer to them. Odd, but not something extraordinary. But to the man used to constant death threat, it was enough to get suspicious. Butch put the three mugs before the couple and the leader so keen on keeping them company. Robin clasped his hands.

“Ah, violating my private stash, Butch? Well, we can forget this little misdeed. Hey, lad, go ahead.”

“Let me take the first, would you give me the honours?” Michael unnoticeably interrupted his companion by putting a hand on her leg and pinching slightly. Sam squealed quietly, before throwing a glare. 

Michael decided to test what was harmless to him. His nose immediately caught maybe a bit weak, but still present smell of arsenic. He knew it perfectly. Michael started to empty the mug. Butch paled at the sight, as Michael drank everything. To his further shock, the guest wasn't showing any sign of discomfort. Then Michael looked at him with narrowed eyes, and that moment Butch looked ready to run at that very second.

“Mmm, tastes like arsenic, my good friends. Please do be temperate and do not touch it. I am serious. See, he is running away...”

Robin grew furious in a matter of seconds, shooting up from his seat, “Stop him now!” 

Butch barged outside the building, running in a random direction. It wasn’t long before the trees were around him, under the constant shouts and yells. Hitting his face with the branches, stinging his legs with thorns of multiple bushes, the bandit was losing his tail. But he was fast, Butch made it quite far, and a small hiding spot — a ravine where nobody could see him, was his shelter. Shakily taking a breath, Butch closed his eyes. When he opened them, a pair of icy blue ones stared back.

"Golly, you are a fast little bugger, aren’t you?" He asked, grinning innocently. 

“How did you survive? There was poison!” Butch exclaimed, trying to get up on his feet.

"A word!" Michael snapped and dragged Butch behind him like a rag doll, then pinning the bandit to the improvised wall of above mentioned ravine.

"You know, you ruined my morning alcohol intake. And I don't like it."

"How...how are you alive?!"

Michael chuckled. 

"Alright, you may have your answer. Your stinking poisons can't do anything to me, mortal," he growled, his eyes flashing red. Butch started to shake.

"Wh-what are..."

"Listen up closely, you don't want to anger the son of the Devil, now, do you?" Michael gave a smirk. The shaking only exponentially increased, "Now you will tell me about the one who ordered you to put the poison.”

"I-It was James Faloy...he said that he will p-pay me for it.”

"Tell me more.”

"He is from nearest cit-ty! Just go the road you used and you will eventually get there!" 

Michael let him go and Butch dropped in the mud, still shaking, and the demon kneeled near him.

"I think there is no need to order you to keep quiet about this exchange, is there?" Butch nodded rapidly, "Good. You are coming with me back to the camp. It is either that or you get a first class ride to hell. Come on.”

When Michael triumphantly returned to the hall, everyone was staring at him, or maybe they were looking at the shaking bandit, whose gaze could not stay at one spot for even a second. The strange calmness of the captor only added to the spectacle.

"Wow, I have never seen Butch pee his pants so much before, what have you done to him, lad?" Robin asked. 

Michael looked thoughtful. 

"What do you know about James Faloy?" 

Bandit leader's look became hard. 

"What I know? Faloy is the dirtiest rat you can find in this thrice damned country! Tried to steal my family's greatest treasure for a very long time. My father stole it from some shady merchant, who, by the latter’s account, found it in some Roman dungeons. Bullshit if you ask me.”

"And what is it?" Sam asked. 

“A necklace. Not that I will show it to you...but that thing is told to be worn by THE Adam’s first wife. Pile of crap if you ask me, but,” he shrugged, “The ruby looks gorgeous.” 

Michael smiled, looking at the ceiling, “My, grandpa, you never cease to surprise me.”

“What does he have to do with this?”

“Well,” Sam put in, quickly understanding the demon’s reaction, “Apparently it used to belong to...”

“My mother, yes,” Michael rolled his eyes. “Let me guess, pentagon shaped, looks as if it is pitch black in its core?”

“Yeah...you are right, it is that ruby. I doubt there is the second. So wait, are you telling me that you are Lylith’s kid?”

“Yep, or Eve. No one really cares.”

Sam laughed. It was the most feigned laugh Michael had ever seen.

“What Mike here says,” she smiled, but her look just screamed, ‘play along’. “Is just a joke. A very inappropriate one.”

“What? It is funny. But yeah. And it is in fact my family heirloom. That trader was speaking nonsense. You won’t give it to me now, would you?”

“Well, it is obviously your mother’s, if your description is so correct. But I paid money for it, a hefty sum, so no. What’s gone is gone.”

“Fine by me,” Michael shrugged, taking a gulp of now clean ale, “Just in case it is a divine object try not to kill yourself.”

Many around laughed, but Sam didn’t. And behind his eyes Michael was not. But that’s how it was gonna be for the entire trip, was it not?