People of the Ark (Ark Chronicles 1) (5 page)

Noah made no response.

“They’ll slip back during darkness and slit our throats,” added Jubal.

Noah shook his head.

“You can’t know that,” Ham said. “They might do it.”

Noah studied his youngest son.

Ham flushed. He admired his father’s courage. And he was proud of how easily Noah had disarmed the sneaky nomad. Few could best his father in a fair fight. Yet…he didn’t understand his father’s overwhelming moral authority.

“
Let’s get back to work,” Noah said.

“
What about the men you freed?” Shem asked.

“
I’ll talk to them,” Noah said. “Oh, and don’t forget to haul up the lumber,” he told Ham.

“
I know.”

“
The ropes need checking, too.”

“
I remember!”

Noah paused
. Then he nodded and headed for the freed slaves.

3.

Gaea, Noah’s wife, smoothed the pleats of her long dress, taking a deep breath, reminding herself that Europa couldn’t help herself. Once a king’s daughter, always so, and Europa had been the oldest born, taught the ways of royalty and to look out for her brothers and sisters. It didn’t matter that her father’s small castle had been sacked and burned, and the tiny kingdom destroyed many years ago. Europa strove to bring her brothers and sisters together, to first free them from slavery, and second to find them wives and husbands, and third, if possible, to rebuild what her father’s vainglory had so disastrously lost.

Slavery was wicked, certainly, and Europa had to be commended in her efforts in freeing her siblings
. Yet a greater servitude enthralled a world. Blackest sin had multiplied to outrageous proportions and enraged a holy Jehovah. His wrath promised doom: a doom imminent, certain and dreadful.

Gaea composed herself, glancing out the window
. Small Rahab—a girl barely in her teens—was dark, raven-haired and had a shy manner like a rabbit hiding from foxes. She held wheat in the fold of her skirt, tossing tiny handfuls to each chicken in turn, laughing at the strutting roster, talking to him. Gaea smiled. Dear little Rahab, she was an orphan with a terrible past. Gaea knew because sometimes at night when she came to tuck Rahab in the poor thing tossed in her sleep, mumbling strange nightmares. Gaea wished Rahab would speak about these things, but she understood why Rahab didn’t and why she looked frightened most of the time.

Gaea moved to the window
. “Rahab!”

The girl whipped up her head, wide-eyed.

Gaea berated herself. She mustn’t shock the poor dear. “Rahab, when you’re done feeding the chickens I want you to come inside and card wool.”

“
Yes, madam.”

“
Now, Rahab,” Gaea said, “you know I want you to start calling me mother.”

Rahab dipped her head, keeping it
dipped, while tossing bigger handfuls of grain and faster than before.

Gaea sighed
and once more smoothed her pleats. She had strong hands, worn now at her age, with too many wrinkles and veins. When her hands had been soft like Rahab’s, bronze shears hadn’t yet become universal. Over a hundred years before Gaea’s birth the discoveries and inventions of Tubal-Cain the Master Smith—that of smelted ores and metal daggers, swords, spears and sheers—had exploded out of the land of Nod. Yet even before that time, there had been wool to card and spin. Sheep before Tubal-Cain’s time had been sheared with flint knives. Gaea suspected that long after she passed away countless young girls would spend many otherwise idle hours carding wool as they had when Eve first invented the process.

Carding was the method of arranging woolen fibers after sheep had been she
ared, readying the fibers for spinning. Two boards with teeth, similar to dog brushes, were used. Wool was distributed on one card and brushed with the other until the fibers all lay parallel and uniform, rid of all debris. The
batt
was taken off the cards and rolled into a
rolag
. The rolag could then be wound onto a spindle.

A pile of wool lay in the corner
. The carding boards lay on the big wooden table behind Gaea, where Europa arranged baskets full of sweet-smelling narcissus, hyacinths, violets and yellow crocus, while the most radiant of all, the crimson splendor of wild roses. Earlier this morning, Europa had taken the serving girls into the fields, picking flowers. When they were done, moments ago, she had trooped them into the house and ordered them where to set each basket.

Even though she
knows, I never allow the maids into the house
. It was a harsh precept, but in these terrible days, it only made sense. The evil one was full of subtlety, while the hearts of humanity had become blacker than pitch. Thus, Gaea strove to create a sanctuary for her family.

She
smoothed her pleats a last time, facing fair Europa, the wife of her oldest son Japheth.

Europa studied the
flower baskets. She was tall, with blonde hair spilling past her shoulders and with a crown of garlands on her head. The garlands matched her long white dress and fit her beautiful features, imperious, queenly and self-assured. A mere sixty years of age, the girl had the aplomb of one of six hundred.

Gaea wondered sometimes what Europa had seen in Japheth
. He was a bright lad, but given to airy speculations and bouts of rhetoric. Perhaps that’s how pagan kings acted and Europa had found familiarity in it.

“
My dear,” Gaea said, “these are lovely flowers.”

Europa smiled softly.

“But you know how I feel about the maids tramping through the house.”

Europa grew still.

“It may seem like a strange rule,” Gaea said, “but… these are dangerous times. The hearts of people have grown dark and unpredictable.”

“
Of course, Mother. I’m sorry. I forgot. Please forgive me.”

Gaea moved to her, touching her arm
. Europa, for all her noble aspirations, was strong like an amazon, not some dainty sprite fit only for perfumed halls. Although Europa frowned on manual labor, when pushed to it she worked as hard as any of the children.

“
The matter is already forgotten,” Gaea said. She smiled, trying to take the sting out of her reprimand. “Now tell me again. What’s the occasion for all these flowers?”

“
Must there be an occasion?” Europa asked.

Gaea patted her hand, the smile widening.

“Well… I love flowers,” Europa said. “And the house could use brightening.”

‘
True, true,” Gaea said.

Europa made a dismissive gesture
. “And in case visitors should arrive—”

“
Visitors?” Gaea asked, wincing inwardly because she had said that too sharply.

Europa glanced at the baskets
. It was hard to tell what she was thinking. As a king’s daughter, she had learned to hide her emotions.

A door opened, startling both of them.

Rahab hesitated at the door. “You…” She seemed to fight for courage. “You said once I was done feeding the chickens that I should come in and card wool.”

“
Of course, of course,” Gaea said. She indicated the table. “Look at all the beautiful flowers Europa picked.”

Rahab barely glanced at the table, although she said,
“They are very pretty.”

Europa didn
’t seem to hear. Perhaps she didn’t notice Rahab after first seeing her. Rahab acted too much like a servant; and those at times Europa seemed to treat as invisible, unless she ordered them to this task or that.

“
You were saying?” Gaea said to Europa.

“
Yes,” Europa said. “I was talking about visitors.”

“
Siblings of yours, I presume?”

“
Girl,” Europa said, “would you start putting these flowers in the vases?”

Rahab glanced at Gaea.

Gaea sighed, nodding.

Rahab picked up the nearest vase and went to the table, hesitating between the flower baskets, choosing the roses.

“You’ve uncovered my surprise,” Europa told Gaea. “A sister of mine should arrive tomorrow.”

“
Ah,” Gaea said.

“
She’s young,” Europa said. “A mere twenty-one. Perhaps if someone could escort her while she’s here. Ham for instance, if—”

Rahab cried out, dropping a rose, sucking her finger.

“What happened?” Gaea said, coming around the table.

Rahab shook her head, with the finger in her mouth.

“She asked you a question, child,” Europa said. “Answer her.”

Rahab took her finger out of her mouth
. A spot of blood welled. “I pricked myself,” she whispered.

Gaea took the small hand, inspecting it
. “You must be more careful, Rahab.”

“
Yes, madam.”

Gaea decided not to chide the small dear again for forgetting to say
‘Mother.’

“
What do you think, Mother?” Europa asked. “Wouldn’t it be a good idea for Ham to escort my sister?”

Gaea noticed a hurt look enter Rahab
’s eyes.

And
Rahab pulled her hand back, and she curled the pricked finger against her palm, using her other fingers to pick up the fallen rose and put it in the vase.

“
My sister is pretty and quite well behaved,” Europa was saying. “I’m sure Ham wouldn’t mind showing her around.”

“
Perhaps,” Gaea said, “but Ham might be busy.”

“
Oh?” Europa asked.

“
I may have Ham help Rahab fetch supplies for Lamech.”

Rahab looked up, startled.

“You can’t be serious,” Europa said. “Let one of the field hands help the girl.”

Gaea faced Europa, saw her calculated study of little Rahab and the almost immediate dismissal of her as a possible obstacle
. Gaea pursed her lips, wondering where in this wicked world Ham might find a good wife. Then she smiled, deciding for Rahab’s sake to deflect Europa’s ire.

“
Come,” Gaea said, taking Europa by the hand, “I want to show you some new material I traded for last week. I’m thinking of using it for a quilt. I’d like your opinion.” They moved toward the next room.

Thus
, neither of them saw Rahab glance up, wonderment and confusion filling her face, and a host of doubts.

4.

“How did your father know I was thinking about helping myself to the rubies?” Jubal asked.

Ham grunted a monosyllable answer as they maneuvered the unwieldy crane into position
. It had a heavy split-log platform laid atop wooden sleds and was dragged by mules. From the platform sprouted a forty-cubit derrick with a swinging boom or yardarm on top.

“
Those rubies were perfect,” Jubal said.

“
Is that what you have for brains?” Ham asked. “Rocks?”

“
Delilah loves rubies. If I had brought her those… Can you imagine how happy she would have made me?”

“
Maybe so,” Ham said. “But stealing from nomads of Havilah is foolish.”

“
I wouldn’t have been caught. But now your father spoiled it by telling them my plans. I don’t understand how he knew.”

“
Well, that’s my father for you. Full of surprises.”

Jubal eyed him
. “You’re not like your brothers.”

Ham shrugged.

“So why do you do this then?” Jubal asked. “Are you really afraid there’s going to be a flood?”

Ham ignored his cousin as they settled the crane beside the Ark
. The reason he worked here wasn’t hard to understand. Only a fool bet against a man who was never wrong. Ham had Jubal unhitch the mules while he set blocks against the sleds. Then they hitched the mules to a loaded wagon, brought the wagon near and slid lumber onto netting.

“
Did you check the rope like your father said?” Jubal asked.

“
Are you in charge or am I?” Ham asked.

Jubal laughed, shaking his head.

Soon they clattered the last board onto the pile and hitched the mules to a big wooden wheel. To the wheel had been attached the crane-rope, which was threaded to the bronze pulley on the end of the boom. The wheel had been Ham’s idea.

“
Shem!”

Thirty cubits up
, longhaired Shem poked his head out.

“
I’m sending up the lumber.”

Shem waved that he was ready.

Ham slapped the nearest mule and the wheel rattled as it rotated and threaded rope. The boom-pulley squeaked dreadfully, it always needed oiling, and the netting rose around the lumber. The derrick groaned as the load swayed upward, upward, higher and higher.

“
Hey!” Ham shouted. “Don’t stand under it, you fool.”

A
s he watched the load, Jubal had drifted underneath the netting.

The rope creaked,
stretching, and it snapped.

“
Look out!” Ham shouted.

Jubal paled and tried to scramble out of the way
. Then heavy gopher-wood planks crashed upon him.