12-21-2020, 11:41 PM
The Wise-men were just over a slight rise of the road and they were arguing. Ninurta and Joseph heard them before seeing them
the theme for this evening was God's plants being used as medicine without calling it 'Devil's work' The nearest wise man to the
Gunslinger held a nobbled staff and a dirty-grey sack and he seemed to be the loudest.
The other two walked backwards and forwards across the snow-speckled track and threw different points of view at the man with
the stick. Calisto, the ancient men would introduce themselves later -was debating the moral aspect of saving lives against breaking
certain dogma.
Ninurta's newly-acquired sword swung in the night and the top of the Wiseman's staff flew off into the darkness.
"Enough!" the Gunslinger shouted and the trio of supposed knowledge-holders became silent. Joseph stepped past his colleague
with the broad-blade sword and spoke to Calisto with a weakened pose.
"My name is Joseph and my wife is to be the mother of the Son Of God... you are here to pay tribute?" Joseph leaned low and took
the grey bag from the claw-like hands of the Wise man.
"Thank you kind Sir, it is true that I Calisto and my two Rogues of the Nation are here to seek the Light of World" the toothless man
with the staff whispered with a smile and Joseph thought he could smell cheap wine on his breath. Ninurta counted backwards from
fifty and let his breath plume out slowly in the evening air.
"I apologise for our behaviour -young fellow..." Calisto called over Joseph's shoulder to the tall swordsman "... our discussions can
become quite heated" An icy smile shone across Ninurta's face and he held the weapon close to his face. "Yer' can talk until the cows
come home -later, but if you and your pals don't get along soon, we're gonna debate whether I twist this in your guts or just take your
damned head off!"
There were intakes of breaths all round and even Joseph gasped at this sudden appearance of assumed-annoyance.
The three old men nodded in unison and continued their journey along the road. Joseph gathered himself and approached Ninurta
with an earnest look on his face. "My wife will be needing me and these aged folk may need help to get to the stable. I suppose
what I'm saying is... can you find the others tonight?"
Ninurta knew he could travel faster alone and nodded at the simple Carpenter. Joseph placed a hand on the tall man's forearm and
said softly "thank you... you're a good man." The narrow-eyed Gunslinger wondered if the woodworker knew what the expression
'silver-tongued' meant.
As the group wandered off towards the glow of the town, Ninurta called to the back of Calisto's balding pate.
"By the way fella, what did you mean Rogue Of Nations?" The old man with the yellowing beard turned and smiled sagely.
"Don't kid a kidder -son, we know which website you're from" he fired back and his smile broadened at the surprised look
on the face of the angry young man with the sword.
Ninurta -featureless, glanced at the reader of this story, turned and slipped away into the dark.
...........................................
The now-impatient Ninurta held the squirming shepherd by the heavily-repaired smock a few inches from the trodden snow
and hissed that if the simple man didn't lower his screaming, this 'Angel of The Lord' would toss him indignantly into the campfire.
The shepherd -not well educated, but aware of self-preservation, fell silent immediately.
The other two sheep herders sat cowering at the cliff face and held each other's hands in dread.
The camp was quiet except for the crackling of burning sticks and smouldering dried sheep dung. Ninurta gritted his teeth and
pushed the mewling man over to where his friends shivered in fear. The herd of sheep in their pen of broken brush and rocks
watched with black doll's eyes as the tall man in the buckskin-like clothes stood over the three shepherds and collected his thoughts.
Ninurta didn't like this play-acting, his nature demanded straight facts and un-flowered prose, he was going against his 'grain'.
The worlds that he'd visited held no mysteries, no magic... just a different perspective on reality and the man once called Carpenter
knew that his existence had continued because of his steel disciplines.
'Oh, to hell with it!' he decided and felt that regular cohort of tension subside.
"I am an Angel, You have been sought out to visit the town to the West of here and there you will find a stable".
Ninurta kept his voice even and strong, a statement laced with a warning always guaranteed he would only be saying it once.
Subconsciously gritting his teeth, he continued. "In this stable is the Son Of God and you WILL pay homage"
The wavering backdrop of flames from the campfire made the figure before the shepherds look like a creature from the opposite
of heaven. The glinting sword that slowly moved from side-to-side added to the stranger's menacing voice.
Ninurta had come across the far-too-large campfire about thirty minutes after leaving the Wise men, and the flitting thought of how
wise one can be to be out on a night like this -passed and his usually cold-displaying eyes gleamed with humour. It was this current
group he needed to focus on now.
The Shepherd that the GunMan had snatched first, gulped and nodded his head so vigorously that the tall man wondered if the
shaggy-bearded skull would just fly off and bounce into the sheep pen. The other two just clutched each other closer and with
wide eyes, continued to watch the slowly-swinging blade.
So that was it, a few minutes later, the shepherds had gathered their baggage and released the skidding and sliding sheep onto
the unpaved road. Ninurta watched from the camp and secretly enjoyed the warmth from the raging fire.
He was alone again and with a slight bite of reluctance, moved away from the flames. The light would make him an easy target,
although he doubted the soldiers would be out this far. One of the shepherds -under non-negotiable instructions from Ninurta,
had left a canvas satchel and the man who had survived alone most of his life -fashioned a back-scabbard for the sword.
After a couple of shrugs and an adjustment of sword-sheaf on his back, a more-content-than-usual Ninurta set off after the
simple-minded shepherds. "Let's get this over with" he spoke to the stars and felt nothing when they didn't agree with his
statement.
...........................................
Having gathered up everyone that the legends said had gathered for the birth, Ninurta started the trek back to the stable.
As he walked along through the snow, he pondered how very different the reality of a situation was from the legends that grew
around that folklore.
Ninurta had a strong suspicion that nothing ever happened precisely as it was recorded, but contained just enough of the facts
to keep the legends on track. Furthermore, he had a sneaking suspicion that very few of the people present at world-changing
events ever realized the import of what was going on right before their eyes -at least not until years later.
That led him to still-further thoughts of what events he had been present at in his own time that would be seen as history-making
events in the future of his own time. Of course, the future of his own time was the future of this time as well, once removed.
Thinking too deeply on THAT cycle could a distraction, so he backed-off of such thoughts for the time being.
As he came within sight of the stable, he realized that the glow coming from therein was far too bright to be accounted for by
the feeble, primitive oil lamps that had been lit before he and Joseph set out on this night's labours.
Of course! The fire! It must have gotten out! The stable was on fire!
"Holy Mother of God!" escaped from his lips as he stood horrified at the thought of having bungled the job that badly.
A voice whispered into his ear from mere millimetres away, a stage-whisper that gave him a start.
"You got THAT right! So you've finally seen the Light, eh?"
Ninurta jumped at the shock of having someone sneak that closely up on him undetected. The jump flowed smoothly into a spin,
as he turned and grabbed for the voice-box attached to the whisper with a claw-like hand.
His hand closed around nothingness. Looking frantically around, he saw that there was no one there. He was completely alone on
the hillock in the cold night. Not even any footprints other than his own. His apparent solitude notwithstanding, there was no doubt
his mind that he HAD heard a voice.
Standing momentarily stunned and perplexed, he heard a chuckle drift off into the night air that made his other hand reach for his
pistol. Ninurta was shaken to the core by that experience, more so than he had been in the past SEVERAL years. Still, he had a job
to do.
He had to help put that fire out!
Taking off at a dead run towards the stables, he covered as much ground as quickly as he could, long, fast, loping strides carrying him
onward. Nearing the stable, the Gunslinger was even more perplexed to see that none of those gathered outside the door was making
any effort at all to help with the fire.
They all seemed to be frozen, transfixed by the sight of the scene in the stable. It was beyond Ninurta how anyone could just stand
paralyzed and watch an occupied building burn.
Huffing and puffing from the exertion of the run, Ninurta slowed his velocity with an unsteady slide on the packed-down snow outside
the doorway of the stable and without a word, began to shove his way through the smiling crowd and saw... that there was no fire
other than the normal fire they had lit earlier.
Instead, what he had thought was a blaze was a bright glow, emanating from a manger in the back of the stable, a strangely familiar
tableaux situated around it. As the realisation that his constant torment called danger had not visited the broken-down abode and
the only people in the whole universe that he'd ever gave a crap about weren't at the mercy of that mocking peril, the heavy-breathing
Gunman's usual mental state felt out of its normal setting.
Taking a single faltering step towards the scene as if hypnotically drawn to it, Ninurta thought better of it. "I ain't got no business in
there, nossir, no business at all" and he turned and wedged his way back out into the night air.
Back outside, the GunMan recalled the trouble with Herod's men that Joseph had spoken of, and his own miscalculation of what
Herod's soldiers would be up to on a night such as this. "Still need a guard" he mumbled to himself and knew he was building walls
in his mind in order to keep his mental blade sharp.
Killing and the burden of killing was something he alone should wrestle with and for others to know of his natural stance on life
-that is: 'get them before they get you', had no place in a room of genuine joy and infantile innocence.
Best to embrace the pariahship he'd enforced on himself so long ago, best to put to use the the skills he'd honed as an outcast
and put a halt to this wasteful self-analysis. The gloom came to him like a lover and once again, Ninurta owned the night.
He had always had excellent night vision, and the snow reflecting the starlight assisted that greatly. To the man who'd grown-up
in a forest where darkness was an ally, it was nearly as bright as day. Still, there was only so much a man could see from ground level.
Looking around for a higher vantage point to observe from, he realized that the only one available was on the roof of the stable itself.
Sighing, Ninurta checked his equipment to make sure it was secure for a climb, jumped and grabbed the eave and hoisted himself up
to the roof.
Skirting areas that looked like weakened thatch, he walked up the roof to the ridge, then along the crest of it, and situated himself
at the front, right on the gable-peak. He was on sentry duty now, a commission he felt better with than those beneath the snow-laden
gambrel where he was now standing.
Alone up there with just the stars and the blackness of the land for company, he concentrated on his task of observing the surrounding
countryside and looking for any movement. This was who he was... this -he reckoned, was probably why he was and promptly slammed
the lid on the sneaking inception that threatened to distract him again.
Ninurta wiped sweat from his brow -yes, he was actually sweating in this cold -and mumbled to no one in particular:
"God, 'Ah don't need this!"
Immediately, he heard the same disembodied stage whisper, this time from directly in front of him, say "I suppose you must have
read the program at some point, because you seem to have all the characters listed now - but remember, fear can be a GOOD thing."
then it chuckled and drifted off into the air again.
Ninurta was certain it turned into a guffaw just before it trailed out altogether.
At that precise instant, the bright star, which had up until now been co-operating with him, blinked back on, adding it's brilliance to the
roaring glow emanating from the stable. "Oh, great, I'm skylighted again!" Ninurta exclaimed, raising his hands in exasperation.
He didn't even consider the appearance he projected to the crowd below, which included the shepherds he had motivated into coming
here by telling them that he was "an Angel". BIAD hopped on his high-heels and clapped with glee as Ninurta stood red-faced on the
stable roof and 'glowed' with the supernatural aura.
Tibbs held his head in his hands and muttered under his breath, he was certain this wouldn't be omitted from future records.
The embarrassed Gunslinger waved weakly at the grinning Man-Girl and the Vithian, the Holy star's rays sparkled with a fine dust
that alighted in the tall man's unruly hair. Two of the Kings had also come outside to see what the commotion was and even Joseph
popped his head outsideof the stable door to see what they were certain was the 'Angel's ascension'!
Ninurta attempted to focus on his task of watching for any intruders, but after twenty seconds he knew he was a sitting-duck with
the 'Bethlehem Beam' proclaiming his whereabouts to everyone in a mile radius. Climbing back down and keeping his dignity with
a well-footed landing, the ruddy-faced Gunman seemed to spend too-much time on adjusting his satchel and checking his
sword-sheath.
"We are delighted you decided to stay with us..." Joseph offered and dared to touch the tall man's forearm, "...for my wife and I
are about to name our child" Ninurta grunted and tossed a weather-eye out into the gloom, his mind ran with questions about all
this and for the first time in a long time, he felt vulnerable.
"Sure Joe, let's get the kid tagged, huh?" the Gunman offered a lop-sided grin. Joseph beamed back and with a sweep of his arm,
invited Ninurta, Tibbs and their eternally-grinning dress-wearing friend to re-enter the stable.
...........................................
(To Be Continued)
the theme for this evening was God's plants being used as medicine without calling it 'Devil's work' The nearest wise man to the
Gunslinger held a nobbled staff and a dirty-grey sack and he seemed to be the loudest.
The other two walked backwards and forwards across the snow-speckled track and threw different points of view at the man with
the stick. Calisto, the ancient men would introduce themselves later -was debating the moral aspect of saving lives against breaking
certain dogma.
Ninurta's newly-acquired sword swung in the night and the top of the Wiseman's staff flew off into the darkness.
"Enough!" the Gunslinger shouted and the trio of supposed knowledge-holders became silent. Joseph stepped past his colleague
with the broad-blade sword and spoke to Calisto with a weakened pose.
"My name is Joseph and my wife is to be the mother of the Son Of God... you are here to pay tribute?" Joseph leaned low and took
the grey bag from the claw-like hands of the Wise man.
"Thank you kind Sir, it is true that I Calisto and my two Rogues of the Nation are here to seek the Light of World" the toothless man
with the staff whispered with a smile and Joseph thought he could smell cheap wine on his breath. Ninurta counted backwards from
fifty and let his breath plume out slowly in the evening air.
"I apologise for our behaviour -young fellow..." Calisto called over Joseph's shoulder to the tall swordsman "... our discussions can
become quite heated" An icy smile shone across Ninurta's face and he held the weapon close to his face. "Yer' can talk until the cows
come home -later, but if you and your pals don't get along soon, we're gonna debate whether I twist this in your guts or just take your
damned head off!"
There were intakes of breaths all round and even Joseph gasped at this sudden appearance of assumed-annoyance.
The three old men nodded in unison and continued their journey along the road. Joseph gathered himself and approached Ninurta
with an earnest look on his face. "My wife will be needing me and these aged folk may need help to get to the stable. I suppose
what I'm saying is... can you find the others tonight?"
Ninurta knew he could travel faster alone and nodded at the simple Carpenter. Joseph placed a hand on the tall man's forearm and
said softly "thank you... you're a good man." The narrow-eyed Gunslinger wondered if the woodworker knew what the expression
'silver-tongued' meant.
As the group wandered off towards the glow of the town, Ninurta called to the back of Calisto's balding pate.
"By the way fella, what did you mean Rogue Of Nations?" The old man with the yellowing beard turned and smiled sagely.
"Don't kid a kidder -son, we know which website you're from" he fired back and his smile broadened at the surprised look
on the face of the angry young man with the sword.
Ninurta -featureless, glanced at the reader of this story, turned and slipped away into the dark.
...........................................
The now-impatient Ninurta held the squirming shepherd by the heavily-repaired smock a few inches from the trodden snow
and hissed that if the simple man didn't lower his screaming, this 'Angel of The Lord' would toss him indignantly into the campfire.
The shepherd -not well educated, but aware of self-preservation, fell silent immediately.
The other two sheep herders sat cowering at the cliff face and held each other's hands in dread.
The camp was quiet except for the crackling of burning sticks and smouldering dried sheep dung. Ninurta gritted his teeth and
pushed the mewling man over to where his friends shivered in fear. The herd of sheep in their pen of broken brush and rocks
watched with black doll's eyes as the tall man in the buckskin-like clothes stood over the three shepherds and collected his thoughts.
Ninurta didn't like this play-acting, his nature demanded straight facts and un-flowered prose, he was going against his 'grain'.
The worlds that he'd visited held no mysteries, no magic... just a different perspective on reality and the man once called Carpenter
knew that his existence had continued because of his steel disciplines.
'Oh, to hell with it!' he decided and felt that regular cohort of tension subside.
"I am an Angel, You have been sought out to visit the town to the West of here and there you will find a stable".
Ninurta kept his voice even and strong, a statement laced with a warning always guaranteed he would only be saying it once.
Subconsciously gritting his teeth, he continued. "In this stable is the Son Of God and you WILL pay homage"
The wavering backdrop of flames from the campfire made the figure before the shepherds look like a creature from the opposite
of heaven. The glinting sword that slowly moved from side-to-side added to the stranger's menacing voice.
Ninurta had come across the far-too-large campfire about thirty minutes after leaving the Wise men, and the flitting thought of how
wise one can be to be out on a night like this -passed and his usually cold-displaying eyes gleamed with humour. It was this current
group he needed to focus on now.
The Shepherd that the GunMan had snatched first, gulped and nodded his head so vigorously that the tall man wondered if the
shaggy-bearded skull would just fly off and bounce into the sheep pen. The other two just clutched each other closer and with
wide eyes, continued to watch the slowly-swinging blade.
So that was it, a few minutes later, the shepherds had gathered their baggage and released the skidding and sliding sheep onto
the unpaved road. Ninurta watched from the camp and secretly enjoyed the warmth from the raging fire.
He was alone again and with a slight bite of reluctance, moved away from the flames. The light would make him an easy target,
although he doubted the soldiers would be out this far. One of the shepherds -under non-negotiable instructions from Ninurta,
had left a canvas satchel and the man who had survived alone most of his life -fashioned a back-scabbard for the sword.
After a couple of shrugs and an adjustment of sword-sheaf on his back, a more-content-than-usual Ninurta set off after the
simple-minded shepherds. "Let's get this over with" he spoke to the stars and felt nothing when they didn't agree with his
statement.
...........................................
Having gathered up everyone that the legends said had gathered for the birth, Ninurta started the trek back to the stable.
As he walked along through the snow, he pondered how very different the reality of a situation was from the legends that grew
around that folklore.
Ninurta had a strong suspicion that nothing ever happened precisely as it was recorded, but contained just enough of the facts
to keep the legends on track. Furthermore, he had a sneaking suspicion that very few of the people present at world-changing
events ever realized the import of what was going on right before their eyes -at least not until years later.
That led him to still-further thoughts of what events he had been present at in his own time that would be seen as history-making
events in the future of his own time. Of course, the future of his own time was the future of this time as well, once removed.
Thinking too deeply on THAT cycle could a distraction, so he backed-off of such thoughts for the time being.
As he came within sight of the stable, he realized that the glow coming from therein was far too bright to be accounted for by
the feeble, primitive oil lamps that had been lit before he and Joseph set out on this night's labours.
Of course! The fire! It must have gotten out! The stable was on fire!
"Holy Mother of God!" escaped from his lips as he stood horrified at the thought of having bungled the job that badly.
A voice whispered into his ear from mere millimetres away, a stage-whisper that gave him a start.
"You got THAT right! So you've finally seen the Light, eh?"
Ninurta jumped at the shock of having someone sneak that closely up on him undetected. The jump flowed smoothly into a spin,
as he turned and grabbed for the voice-box attached to the whisper with a claw-like hand.
His hand closed around nothingness. Looking frantically around, he saw that there was no one there. He was completely alone on
the hillock in the cold night. Not even any footprints other than his own. His apparent solitude notwithstanding, there was no doubt
his mind that he HAD heard a voice.
Standing momentarily stunned and perplexed, he heard a chuckle drift off into the night air that made his other hand reach for his
pistol. Ninurta was shaken to the core by that experience, more so than he had been in the past SEVERAL years. Still, he had a job
to do.
He had to help put that fire out!
Taking off at a dead run towards the stables, he covered as much ground as quickly as he could, long, fast, loping strides carrying him
onward. Nearing the stable, the Gunslinger was even more perplexed to see that none of those gathered outside the door was making
any effort at all to help with the fire.
They all seemed to be frozen, transfixed by the sight of the scene in the stable. It was beyond Ninurta how anyone could just stand
paralyzed and watch an occupied building burn.
Huffing and puffing from the exertion of the run, Ninurta slowed his velocity with an unsteady slide on the packed-down snow outside
the doorway of the stable and without a word, began to shove his way through the smiling crowd and saw... that there was no fire
other than the normal fire they had lit earlier.
Instead, what he had thought was a blaze was a bright glow, emanating from a manger in the back of the stable, a strangely familiar
tableaux situated around it. As the realisation that his constant torment called danger had not visited the broken-down abode and
the only people in the whole universe that he'd ever gave a crap about weren't at the mercy of that mocking peril, the heavy-breathing
Gunman's usual mental state felt out of its normal setting.
Taking a single faltering step towards the scene as if hypnotically drawn to it, Ninurta thought better of it. "I ain't got no business in
there, nossir, no business at all" and he turned and wedged his way back out into the night air.
Back outside, the GunMan recalled the trouble with Herod's men that Joseph had spoken of, and his own miscalculation of what
Herod's soldiers would be up to on a night such as this. "Still need a guard" he mumbled to himself and knew he was building walls
in his mind in order to keep his mental blade sharp.
Killing and the burden of killing was something he alone should wrestle with and for others to know of his natural stance on life
-that is: 'get them before they get you', had no place in a room of genuine joy and infantile innocence.
Best to embrace the pariahship he'd enforced on himself so long ago, best to put to use the the skills he'd honed as an outcast
and put a halt to this wasteful self-analysis. The gloom came to him like a lover and once again, Ninurta owned the night.
He had always had excellent night vision, and the snow reflecting the starlight assisted that greatly. To the man who'd grown-up
in a forest where darkness was an ally, it was nearly as bright as day. Still, there was only so much a man could see from ground level.
Looking around for a higher vantage point to observe from, he realized that the only one available was on the roof of the stable itself.
Sighing, Ninurta checked his equipment to make sure it was secure for a climb, jumped and grabbed the eave and hoisted himself up
to the roof.
Skirting areas that looked like weakened thatch, he walked up the roof to the ridge, then along the crest of it, and situated himself
at the front, right on the gable-peak. He was on sentry duty now, a commission he felt better with than those beneath the snow-laden
gambrel where he was now standing.
Alone up there with just the stars and the blackness of the land for company, he concentrated on his task of observing the surrounding
countryside and looking for any movement. This was who he was... this -he reckoned, was probably why he was and promptly slammed
the lid on the sneaking inception that threatened to distract him again.
Ninurta wiped sweat from his brow -yes, he was actually sweating in this cold -and mumbled to no one in particular:
"God, 'Ah don't need this!"
Immediately, he heard the same disembodied stage whisper, this time from directly in front of him, say "I suppose you must have
read the program at some point, because you seem to have all the characters listed now - but remember, fear can be a GOOD thing."
then it chuckled and drifted off into the air again.
Ninurta was certain it turned into a guffaw just before it trailed out altogether.
At that precise instant, the bright star, which had up until now been co-operating with him, blinked back on, adding it's brilliance to the
roaring glow emanating from the stable. "Oh, great, I'm skylighted again!" Ninurta exclaimed, raising his hands in exasperation.
He didn't even consider the appearance he projected to the crowd below, which included the shepherds he had motivated into coming
here by telling them that he was "an Angel". BIAD hopped on his high-heels and clapped with glee as Ninurta stood red-faced on the
stable roof and 'glowed' with the supernatural aura.
Tibbs held his head in his hands and muttered under his breath, he was certain this wouldn't be omitted from future records.
The embarrassed Gunslinger waved weakly at the grinning Man-Girl and the Vithian, the Holy star's rays sparkled with a fine dust
that alighted in the tall man's unruly hair. Two of the Kings had also come outside to see what the commotion was and even Joseph
popped his head outsideof the stable door to see what they were certain was the 'Angel's ascension'!
Ninurta attempted to focus on his task of watching for any intruders, but after twenty seconds he knew he was a sitting-duck with
the 'Bethlehem Beam' proclaiming his whereabouts to everyone in a mile radius. Climbing back down and keeping his dignity with
a well-footed landing, the ruddy-faced Gunman seemed to spend too-much time on adjusting his satchel and checking his
sword-sheath.
"We are delighted you decided to stay with us..." Joseph offered and dared to touch the tall man's forearm, "...for my wife and I
are about to name our child" Ninurta grunted and tossed a weather-eye out into the gloom, his mind ran with questions about all
this and for the first time in a long time, he felt vulnerable.
"Sure Joe, let's get the kid tagged, huh?" the Gunman offered a lop-sided grin. Joseph beamed back and with a sweep of his arm,
invited Ninurta, Tibbs and their eternally-grinning dress-wearing friend to re-enter the stable.
...........................................
(To Be Continued)
Edith Head Gives Good Wardrobe.