Saracen was amused by his own confusion, and how bewliderment was evidently contagious. Three puzzled Demons were now sat around the large table in Belials kitchen. Saracen had shown them the highlighted passage, and had let them listen to the exerpt from the song left in the stereo and gave Beleth and Flauros a minute or two to come to their own conclusions.
The autumnal Earth chill crept stealthily and brutally down Beleths spine, a violent shudder betraying his cool facade. There was something amiss to him, something perhaps only Saracen could explain. Flauros' cool gaze never faltered, even though his mind raced.
"Ok Saracen, so what are we being told?" Flauros' words were a drawling monotone, perhaps an effort to seem unaffected, or perhaps a sign of indifference to Belial's actions. Maybe it made no difference to Flauros what Belial did, perhaps he was just the Demon Murderer he was convicted to be. Perhaps Flauros preferred the world to be totally black and white.
"There is one thing you must understand first Flauros." Saracens' thick Crimson lips moved very subtly in his speech. "There is something I need to tell you about the murder of Timon and Aamon."
"What does it matter, he admitted the crime." Beleth chimed aggressively.
"That he did Beleth, I am not justifying Belial's behaviour. More my own. My own involvement is under some doubt." As Saracen spoke Beleth shook his brown curls in frustration.
"Timon and Aamon, started their vulgar act against that defenseless Angel. She had surrendered her arms and yet they still wanted to...well I don't know what they wanted to do." Saracen lurched his heavy shoulders forward until his forehead met the cold pine.
Flauros sat back with his thick arms crossed across his chest and stared coolly across the table at Saracen. There had been whispers of Saracen being in league with Timon, a few wild rumours about attacking Belial himself. Was he to hear a few lies? A few justifications maybe? Flauros had never been a stupid Demon. His appearance may look part aggressive, part stupid and all comical, but he that betrayed his inner guile, and his obvious cunning.
"I moved to stop them, I even tried telling Timon to fall back, but still he went forward. Belial must have misread my intentions because..."
"Because he attacked you. But I heard you tried to sneak up behind Belial." Beleth was a slighter demon with a bigger voice. If Saracen would ever have been Sherlock Holmes, Beleth would have been 'Watson' a constant sensible, probing and awestruck sidekick. Always asking questions. He looked more like a grunge rock star with his long ringlets of blonde cascading sloppily over his very pallid features than he did a fearsome warrior of the Belial order.
"No. Timon tried to sneak up behind him, I was a little late trying to intercept, but still we both were thrown to the floor below. That is when Timon decided his best course of action would be to attack Abaddon." Beleth and Flauros sighed almost simultaneously, two sets of large shoulders rose and fell in a very dramatic fashion, yet their stares keenly focussed on the story teller.
"I did not intervene here, there is no victory going against any member of the fallen. The point is, all along I stood by Belial's virtues and laws. Those laws which were so ignorantly thrown aside at Belial's trial. These messages mean something, and I want to find out what." Saracen thumped the table lethargically and forced himself to the back of the chair, where he slumped his whole body.
"Look we are to call Balthazar with any news on Belial. From there it isn't our problem." Flauros was agitated; without any real cause he felt a sinister irritation coursing through his body. A numb screaming sensation in his hot blood propelled him to speak with an acid tone.
"No. We are to call Balthazar and tell him to let Gabriel know that we have found evidence of Belial's passing. " Saracen would have growled if his mind didn't feel so distant from his body.
But the words were enough to press a gruesome bewilderment upon the pair of Demons to whom he was addressing. This information had been kept out of their briefings, it had been conveniently omitted from the fineprint at the bottom of the invisible contract to which they had found themselves bound. This was a new spin, a new horror, or a new excitement.
"Gabriel? You are joking?" Beleth looked up at his pallid lieutenant.
"My request is simple. We stay together and search for Belial with the view to helping him. Or if you wish to continue down the path set for us by the honourable Balthazar, then at least give me two hours to clean up this house and vacate these premises in search of Belial on my own? Which is it to be?"
There was a momentary silence.