Noah Primeval (Chronicles of the Nephilim) (10 page)

Methuselah snapped a look at him. The name of Cain did not bring pleasant memories to mind. Cain, the cursed, the man of wrath
, had once hunted him and Noah’s father Lamech.

Noah’s eyes went wide. “Cousin?” Noah had known of his cousins from the line of Cain, son of Adam. They resided in the land
of Nod far to the north. But he had not known that they too had become captive to the Watchers.

Tubal-cain glared unblinkingly at Noah. “You say you defy the gods. What of Elohim?”

“I have an archangel of Elohim with me,” said Noah, hoping that would say enough.

Uriel mumbled to himself, “Tell everyone, why don’t you.” It was clearly to his advantage to remain anonymous in his identity and Noah knew that.

Tubal-cain continued to stare down Noah. Then he turned and called behind him, “Brothers!”

Two other men stepped out, and Tubal-cain introduced them as Jabal, a shepherd, and Jubal, a minstrel of music. They were twins with completely opposite personalities.

“You have a nice family,” said Uriel, “but not quite an army.”

So, this was the lineage that Cain
had deserted for his wolf tribe
, thought Methuselah.
And now, they are our allies. Or at least they appear to be.
Methuselah did not trust them.

Noah and his companions
looked around. The slaves were becoming more agitated. Methuselah stepped up to Noah and whispered, “We best leave before they think of using us as ransom.”

“Follow me,” said Tubal-cain
. “I have something you will need.”

Tubal-cain led them out of the quarters a short distance away to a cave at the outer ridge of the pit. They entered the cave to see a vast smelting furnace area with a pile of coal, molds, anvils and other metalworking implements. “What is this place?” asked Noah.

“It is called a forge,” replied Tubal-cain. “The gods taught me how to mix metals to make them much stronger for better tools…
and weapons.” He finished the sentence with a punctuated grin. But he had more to share.

“I have discovered something stronger than even bronze, but I have not shown it to anyone. I
hoped to keep it hidden until a day that I could use it for great benefit. I believe that day has arrived.” Jubal and Jabal smiled. Methuselah was all ears, mistrusting ears.

Noah and Uriel followed him
to a table with a large meteorite on it. “Metal from heaven,” said Tubal-cain. “I did not have to even smelt it. I call it ‘iron.’

“Help me move this table,”
he asked. He positioned himself to push the heavy metallic worktable.

Uriel stepped over and bumped it aside like it was a baby’s crib.

Tubal-cain almost fell down and Uriel gave him a smile.

Below the table was a latched door. Tubal-cain pulled it open
, revealing a hidden stash of weapons. He pulled up a sword made from the iron. Uriel could see that the Watchers had instructed him in the art of sword making. He wondered if Tubal-cain had been exposed to any black arts.

“These are swords
. I see your guardian is already a master of them,” said Tubal-cain to Noah.

He handed one to Uriel
, who grasped it with interest. The angel tested its weight and slashed the air.
Good. Very good
.

“It’s more durable than bronze, almost unbreakable. If we could find this ore on earth, we could defeat an army. Who knows, maybe we could even kill a god or two.”

Tubal-cain was very deliberate in his words, which did not escape Noah’s notice. He liked it. Killing the gods was exactly what he had in mind.

“I do not have an army,” Noah said, “but what I do have is a squad of stealth
y assassins.”

“With these swords, we could use their own secrets against
the gods,” said Tubal-cain.

Uriel
interrupted. “As our near mishap of this evening illustrates, we have nowhere near the competence for such a feat. If you think you can just saunter into the city of Erech, traipse right into the temple and challenge Anu to a duel, you are sorely misinformed and ill advised. You might as well jump off one of these cliffs right now, because that is what you would be doing.”

Noah said, “Well, I guess that means you will have to train the rest of us, then, Uriel.”

Tubal-cain handed out swords to everyone.

Uriel
had known it was coming. He groaned.

“Enough bellyaching,” said Methuselah. “It is for Noah’s advantage.”

“And I thank you for your measured counsel,” Uriel replied. He turned to Noah. “What about the box?”

“What about it?” replied Noah.

“This is not your calling, Noah,” said Uriel.

“Am I not the Chosen Seed?” said Noah, “to end the rule of the gods?”

Uriel was annoyed, “Not in that way.”

“I will end their rule,” said Noah, “one by one.”

Lugalanu’s dining table was grand, twenty cubits long with a spread fit for a king: a soup of gazelle spleen broth with lentils, chickpeas and leeks. He often ate mutton or goats, but tonight was special: horseflesh. Beef was rare, for there was little pasture land. Fresh radishes, beets and turnips, figs and dates graced the table, as well as the fine delicacy of turtle eggs to compliment them. Royal privilege allowed the variety of breads and bread cakes made from the plentiful grains grown in the kingdom. These bread cakes were offerings made for the Queen of Heaven. Lugalanu and his temple staff ate the remaining amount after Inanna had her fill. He loved them drenched in honey.

Barley was the most common grain in the kingdom
, making barley beer the most common drink. Dark or clear, fresh or well aged, Sumerians drank volumes of beer.

Lugalanu drank plenty of it this evening, barely touching his food. He
sat all alone at this grand table spread. He watched Emzara and some maidservants clean up the food.

The leftovers would be eaten by the
servants, with the exception of the meats that could be smoked and stored for later use. Good food was one of the surest ways to maintain grateful servants. With well-fed bellies, servants would more easily tolerate the fits of rage and abuse that occasionally came over Lugalanu. It is said that a man becomes what he worships, and this was no less true for Lugalanu. He sought to emulate the noblesse oblige of Anu, but often mirrored the emotional outbursts of Inanna.

T
onight, he was depressed.

T
he object of his depression worked before him, cleaning the table and pouring him more beer. He stared at Emzara’s gorgeous form, her regal posture. He contemplated her moral purity. It was all he could do to keep from throwing himself on her. The image of his gratification flashed through his mind. He would wipe the table of its plates and utensils, throw her up on top of it and take her by force. He was priest-king and it was his divine right. But he knew it would not be his victory. Thank Anu for the beer. It helped to calm him.

He watched her breasts through her tunic as she poured his beer. Servants wore simple white tunics, but his personal staff had an added element of decorative embroidery to set them apart. His eyes moved down to her stomach.

She felt the intensity of his gaze and spilled the beer on the table.

“I am sorry, my lord,” she said.

“You are beginning to show,” he said. It was not true. She was only a few weeks pregnant, and only the most observant would have been able to tell the thickness that was beginning to increase around her middle. He was trying to raise the topic of his offer again.

“I will wear loose clothes,” she replied
. She completed her pouring and shyly moved to finish the clean up.

He grabbed her arm. He felt her recoil and released his grip apologetically. With a touch of heartsickness in his voice, he asked, “Do I treat you well?”

“Yes, my lord,” she said. He had treated her well for the short time she had been with him. He had appointed her as an aide to the Chief Maidservant in charge of Lugalanu’s personal staff, Alittum, an experienced, agreeable and ambitious woman, who constantly sought to ingratiate herself to Lugalanu.

Emzara administered the other servants, and domestic chores such as cooking, cleaning,
and finances. Though she had been given a new Sumerian name, as were all captured slaves, Lugalanu called her Emzara when they were alone. He sought a connection with that inner part of her that was not owned by the gods. Her Sumerian name was Nindannum, which meant “lady of strength.” This name, given her by Lugalanu, also expressed his great admiration for her. Such name references to “ladies” were usually used only of goddesses.

M
ost slaves were branded with the name of the god on the back of their hands, but Lugalanu allowed Emzara the less popular form of wearing a bronze bracelet with the symbol. He sought to accommodate her personal devotion to Elohim by exempting her from any duties directly related to the worship of the gods or their divination and sorcerous activities.

Her special treatment did not go unnoticed by Alittum, nor
the fact that Emzara was learning Alittum’s own responsibilities. Therefore, Alittum made life miserable for Emzara, criticizing her every move. Unfortunately for Alittum, it had the undesired effect of making Emzara try so hard that she was already a model servant.

But Alittum was not here now.
She had departed with the other table servants.

“If you were to remove your unborn, you could be my wife. You would birth kings and queens from your womb.”
He cloaked the desperate plea as an alluring offer.

She had the upper hand and she knew it. “Would you force me, my lord?”

Lugalanu glanced at the other servants cleaning the room They studiously attended their responsibilities, pretending not to hear anything said by their master. He waved his hand at them. They instantly scurried out the door.

Lugalanu and his favorite
were alone. He could let down his composure. “I do not understand you, Emzara. In this world, the vanquished embrace their fate. Yet you do not.” It was true, he thought. The strong ruled the weak, and the weak accepted their station in life as their fate from the gods. After all, they were created as slaves for the gods.

“I cannot,” she responded. She believed in the rule of righteousness as opposed to
the rule of power. Righteousness came from faith in Elohim, who created all humankind in his image. She knew this faith ran fully counter to the Sumerian belief that only the king was created in the image of the gods. She would die for her beliefs because life was of no value without them.

“That is what I like about you,” he said, almost regretfully. It would only make the victory real to have all
her personal strength and conviction willingly yield to him. All the more so since he did not tell her that he had engaged a sorcerer to cast a spell of enchantment upon her to fall in love with him. He participated in a sexual potency ritual, building a reed altar and praying to the bright Morning Star, sacred to Inanna, goddess of love. He made an offering and prepared figurines that he dutifully burned, and created a potion that he slipped into her drink.

But none of it had worked. The incantations, spells, and charms of the manipulative magic, none of it seemed to have an effect on her
.

H
e would continue to be patient.

He
spoke with ostensible sadness, “Your son will be a servant of the goddess in her temple.” He made it sound as if it was out of his hands and he could do nothing to change it. That was a lie.

She looked to him with hope. “But he will be alive,” she said, looking for affirmation of his promise.

He gave her none. Of course, he could simply kill the child, rip it from her womb. He really should do so, because if this was the child of the Chosen Seed, then it was certainly possible that it would carry on the lineage that might bear the revelation should Noah fail.

The thought of
these options titillated him. He felt powerful. He, the human ruler of a city, a mere servant of the gods, might have in his hands the power to destroy those gods. Even though to do so could bring about his own destruction, it was still a power over those gods. It was an aphrodisiac.

On the other hand, if this really w
as the bloodline of the coming King, then he also had the power over Elohim to end that bloodline and thwart the plans of the Creator himself. He smiled to himself. He would do nothing, and this would ensure his position, for the drug-like high could only be maintained by the power over choices, and that power was dissipated as soon as those choices were exercised.

The
patter of approaching feet outside the door interrupted Lugalanu’s musing. A panting servant slid around the corner, and bobbed up and down in a fit of genuflection.

“What is it?” Lugalanu barked, on the verge of one of his Inanna-like fits.

“My lords Anu and Inanna require your immediate presence in the throne room.”

Lugalanu sobered instantly and sprang into action. He was out the door as quickly as his feet could carry him. He might hold the power to destroy the gods, but
that event would not be today.

Emzara knew this kind of request
came rarely, so she decided to risk the danger by secretly following him. She knew that a passive response to her situation would never give her control over her destiny. She had to take chances. She had to take control.

She grabbed a royal
canister in order to get by the guards. She stayed just out of sight behind Lugalanu as he traversed the hallways back into the palace area. When he reached the royal outer court gates, Emzara slipped around to a servant’s entrance in the inner court. After all, she was a servant. She had had to memorize the ins and outs of the servant’s access through the entire Eanu and Eanna districts.

She
stayed in the shadows behind the outer pillars and slipped her way up toward the altar of the sanctuary. She could get no closer to the thrones than twenty cubits, but the acoustics in the throne room were so perfect she could hear every word.

They were already in counsel with Lugalanu when she settled in the shadows.

“He escaped?” asked Lugalanu.

“He killed the entire guard of the slave mines!” yelled Inanna. “Damn this Noah ben Lamech and his audacity!”

Emzara suppressed a gasp.

The chimera bull and lion creatures glanced over in Emzara’s direction. They had acute hearing.

The conversation stopped. Anu and Inanna followed the gaze of their throne guardians. One of them moved to investigate. But before it got down the steps, Emzara had slipped behind a pillar just in time.

A
servant passed her hiding place, drawing their attention to him. He carried chalices of blood for the gods. He placed the libations on the altar and left.

The gods and their priest-king
returned to their discussion.

“Are you sure he is the prophesied Chosen Seed?” Anu asked Lugalanu.

Inanna burst out, “He denied it! You heard it yourself.”

Lugalanu said, “He appears to have the protection of Elohim over him.”

The incident had taken place a week before, but they only now discovered the escape when their weekly shipment of copper did not arrive. A contingent of soldiers had been sent to investigate. Evidently all the slaves had remained and continued their labors awaiting new leadership. It pleased Anu that it was true after all: men’s souls, not merely their bodies, could be owned.

“We can afford no risks,” said Anu. “Send the
Gibborim. They will find this Noah and they will kill him.”

“Yes, my lord and god,” said Lugalanu.

He shivered inside himself. The Gibborim were an elite corps of Nephilim, a unit of five highly trained assassins. They could hunt anything and kill it, and they were unstoppable. It was said that one corps of Gibborim had conquered an entire city in the northern hinterlands, killing everyone and eating the flesh of the victims for weeks.

The
lion-man continued to stare in Emzara’s direction. He had not taken his eyes off the location since she had gasped. With a snarl, he bounded off the dais and covered the distance through the shrubbery to the pillars in a couple strides.

When he got there, Emzara was already gone.

The evening fell
. Lugalanu rode his four-wheeled chariot through the streets of the city drawn by muscle-bound war horses. everyone in the streets moved out of the way, hiding in the shadows and locking their doors, but not because of Lugalanu’s mighty chariot stallions. It was the five assassin Gibborim that followed him. They were taller than most Nephilim, about ten cubits tall. They were tattooed head to foot, wore exotic armor, and carried their unusual weapons and supplies on their backs. They walked with eyes intensely focused on their objective.

Emzara
followed their movement toward the gates of the city behind the procession, in the shadows. She slid behind a water trough as the procession stopped at the gates.

One of the Nephilim sensed something and turned, looking straight at the water trough.
Emzara had slid off to the side in the dark of an alley. The Naphil turned back to its mission commander, Lugalanu.

“My Gibborim,” said Lugalanu, “
on you lies the hope of this kingdom.” They listened to him with cold, unblinking reptilian eyes. They were instruments of death and destruction. The king made the seriousness of his charge clear, “If you do not destroy this Chosen Seed, he will destroy you and your seed. Bring me his head.”

With barely an acknowledgment of his words, the Gibborim walked out of the gates.

Emzara had found her way to the wall, where she could see the giant fiends through a fissure in the rock. They broke into a run out under the moonlight. The earth rumbled beneath their feet. They were so powerful, they did not need beasts of burden. They were faster without them.

In despair,
Emzara uttered a prayer to Elohim. If these monsters of hell were after her beloved Noah, he did not stand a chance. He was doomed. Only Elohim could rescue him now. She turned to find her way back to the palace.