Lamb The Gospel According to Biff Christs Childho - By Christopher Moore Page 0,55

You know what?" I was waving my finger under her nose. "You scratched the Son of God. That's your ass, that's what."

"The magus is gone from Antioch, and good riddance to him," screeched the crone.

The fat trader had been watching this the whole time without saying a word, but now he began laughing so hard that I could barely hear the old woman wheezing out curses. "So you want to find Balthasar, do you, God's Son?"

Joshua came out of the stunned contemplation of his wounds and looked at the trader. "Yes, sir, do you know him?"

"Who do you think the monkey's feet are for? Follow me." He whirled on his heel and sauntered away without another word.

As we followed the trader into an alley so narrow that his shoulders nearly touched the sides, I turned back to the old crone and shouted, "Your ass, hag! Mark my words."

She hissed and made the sign of the evil eye again.

"She was a little creepy," Joshua said, looking at the scratches on his hand again.

"Don't be judgmental, Josh, you're not without creepiness yourself."

"Where do you think this guy is leading us?"

"Probably somewhere where he can murder and kill us."

"Yeah, at least one of those."
Chapter 11
Chapter 11

Since my escape attempt, I can't get the angel to leave the room at all. Not even for his beloved Soap Opera Digest. (And yes, when he left to obtain the first one, it would have been a good time to make my escape, but I wasn't thinking that way then, so back off.) Today I tried to get him to bring me a map.

"Because no one is going to know the places I'm writing about, that's why," I told him. "You want me to write in this idiom so people will understand what I'm saying, then why use the names of places that have been gone for thousands of years? I need a map."

"No," said the angel.

"When I say the journey was two months by camel, what will that mean to these people who can cross an ocean in hours? I need to know modern distances."

"No," said the angel.

(Did you know that in a hotel they bolt the bedside lamp to the table, thereby making it an ineffective instrument of persuasion when trying to bring an obdurate angel around to your way of thinking? Thought you should know that. Pity too, it's such a substantial lamp.)

"But how will I recount the heroic acts of the archangel Raziel if I can't tell the locations of his deeds? What, you want me to write, 'Oh, then somewhere generally to the left of the Great Wall that rat-bastard Raziel showed up looking like hell considering he may have traveled a long distance or not?' Is that what you want? Or should it read, 'Then, only a mile out of the port of Ptolemais, we were once again graced with the shining magnificence of the archangel Raziel? Huh, which way do you want it?"

(I know what you're thinking, that the angel saved my life when Titus threw me off the ship and that I should be more forgiving toward him, right? That I shouldn't try to manipulate a poor creature who was given an ego but no free will or capacity for creative thought, right? Okay, good point. But do please remember that the angel only intervened on my behalf because Joshua was praying for my rescue. And do please remember that he could have saved us a lot of difficulty over the years if he had helped us out more often. And please don't forget that - despite the fact that he is perhaps the most handsome creature I've ever laid eyes on - Raziel is a stone doofus. Nevertheless, the ego stroke worked.)

"I'll get you a map."

And he did. Unfortunately the concierge was only able to find a map of the world provided by an airline that partners with the hotel. So who knows how accurate it is. On this map the next leg of our journey is six inches long and would cost thirty thousand Friendly Flyer Miles. I hope that clears things up.

The trader's name was Ahmad Mahadd Ubaidullaganji, but he said we could call him Master. We called him Ahmad. He led us through the city to a hillside where his caravan was camped. He owned a hundred camels which he drove along the Silk Road, along with a dozen men, two goats, three horses, and an astonishingly homely woman named Kanuni. He took us to