THE FALL (Rapha Chronicles #1) (The Rapha Chronicles) (35 page)

“I had believed Adonai hated me. What road could be more difficult than that?”

“Did he say anything else?”

“Um, yes,” Auda wrinkled her brow and put a hand to her head, “his words were, ‘Say to my brother, Rapha, all is well with Eve. Great joy will come of her sojourn in a wicked land.’”

A wave of gratitude flooded over Rapha. His latest messengers sent to inquire about Eve had never returned.

“He called you ‘brother.’ You really
were
one of them once,” her eyes were wide with wonder. “I always loved your stories about life in the heavens. I would fall asleep and dream of angels and that perfect garden and all the animals and… it’s all
true
. There really was a garden and you were there with Adam and Eve.”

Her expression grew thoughtful, “Then the rest is true as well. Lucifer corrupted creation, Cain killed his brother and Rafe is….”

“Yes, his son. But remember, Rafe chooses his allegiance.”

As Auda fought back tears, she shook her head, amazed. “Yet Adonai says He will bless our union. ‘A mighty people redeemed and dedicated to Adonai.’”

“Yes. His will is clear.”

After a moment of silence that buzzed with her racing thoughts, Auda said, “I cannot consider joining with another, even if Rafe will not have me.”

“Unless I am mistaken, we can have his answer before sunset.” He turned to address a large raven who watched from a high branch. “Correct?”

The glossy bird rose into the air on silent wings.

“I should have known,” Auda watched the bird climb higher until he disappeared into the sun. “He has appeared every day for weeks now. He goes to Rafe?”

When Rapha nodded in answer, Auda laughed, a delightful sound that seemed to sparkle in the air around them.

Soon, however, she groaned, “What do I tell Elden and his family? They have been so kind.” Her expression brightened, “I could make him glad to release me. His patience is stretched already….” Then she clapped a hand to her mouth as understanding dawned. “That was what Rafe did the night he left. He was trying to make it easier for me.”

“How well did it work?” Rapha inquired with a smile.

She wrinkled her nose, “Not well at all.”

But Elden was pushed quickly from her mind as Auda realized Rafe was summoned, and here she was, bedraggled from her night of weeping.

Later, when darkness had once again settled over the land, a tall man with broad shoulders, a full beard and dark, curly hair, stepped into the light of their fire.

At first, Auda was wary. Rafe the boy had turned into a formidable man, even taller than she remembered.

“Auda?”

The caressing tone with which he said her name carried a myriad of questions, all of which she chose to answer by walking to stand before him and look up into his eyes. After a moment, she smiled.

“There you are,” she reached a hand toward his face. He went down on one knee and she touched the unfamiliar beard and traced the lines of care around his eyes before taking a long lock of thick hair in her fingers and tugging—hard. “What took so long?”

Then he grabbed her up in his arms and spun her around the way he used to when she was a child. But when the fit of laughter had passed, and he looked into her eyes with a much different expression than he had when she was a tormenting imp with messy, blonde curls, Rapha saw fit to intervene.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he said as he pulled Auda from Rafe’s grasp. “Unhand my daughter!”

Even then Rafe tried to convince Auda to stay with the family in the valley. He told her of his life running from those he defied, that they would not have time to sow and reap or maintain flocks, that he could not abandon those whom evil would destroy. But his eyes could not lie. He had been tortured by thoughts of her belonging to another; so when he gazed at the breathtaking young woman who vowed her devotion with the stubborn persistence of the little girl who would not be left behind, his eyes shone with the gratitude of a starving man set before a feast.

Dawn was about to break when the exhausted Auda retired, and Rafe remained, staring into the fire. “I do not dare remain in this valley. My enemies seem to find me wherever I go. In fact, the birds report that a raiding party fast approaches.”

So while Auda slept, Rafe and Rapha descended into the valley to warn the family of their danger.

Elden and Ochim looked with narrowed eyes from Rapha to the tall, handsome stranger at his side. “Where is proof of this enemy?” The boy’s hand rested on the knife at his waist. “How do we know you will not take this valley as your own?”

“Come now, Rapha is our friend, soon to be family,” the father said though he shooed the younger children behind him. “Surely we can trust his words.”

“Where is Auda?” The youngest daughter asked.

Confound the child. Rapha had hoped to delay their other news.

The father read much in Rapha’s hesitation. “If we go, Auda is with us, eh Rapha?”

“Auda goes with me,” Rafe stated.

Rapha could only shake his head as that conversation deteriorated. “Take the children inside,” Ochim ordered his wife, even as she begged him not to fight, while Elden leapt to draw the hunting knife from a strap at his side, and the dog advanced, teeth bared.

“Where is she? What have you done to her?” Elden shouted as Rapha placed himself between the young men who faced each other like bulls ready to charge.

“Please!” Rapha shouted. “Allow me to explain!” But his words were drowned by their yells and the dog’s excited barking.

When the younger boy tossed a spear to his brother saying, “Kill the giant, Elden!” Rapha intervened, his ancient abilities disarming the boy in one blurred, instinctive movement. As the dog leapt for his throat, Rapha triggered a nerve in its neck, causing the beast to crumple to the ground, stunned.

The family looked on in shocked silence and, though Rapha’s actions had averted catastrophe, their expressions were more fearful and murderous than before.

“You are one of them!” the father roared. “Get off my land and take your giant with you!”

“Rafe can help you. He has resisted this enemy for years. At least allow us to show you the way to safety.”

“I have seen what his kind do,” the father growled. “The only giant I will trust is a dead one.”

“And I have seen the gratitude of your kind,” Rafe countered. “I fight at your side, save your women and children, and then am rewarded with your knives pointing at my back.”

As Rapha grasped Rafe’s arm and pulled him away he attempted to salvage a shred of civility. “My thanks to your family for the kindness you have shown—”

But Ochim cut him off. “Enemies descend upon us and my son has lost his mate. Be gone!”

“Rafe! You said that? No wonder he was ready to kill you,” Auda tried to appear angry at the turn of events but the report of Rafe claiming her as his own made her blush with pleasure.

Later, as they lounged beneath spreading limbs of the towering trees and watched the first stars appear, Rapha tried to speak of the fast-approaching enemy. But Rafe was deaf and blind to all but Auda. Rapha walked a few paces away to give the couple a measure of privacy. It warmed his soul to hear their murmured endearments and shared laughter. He breathed deep, grateful for the magic of young love.

However, now that there was some distance between him and the couple’s overwhelming emotions, Rapha could detect more on the cool night breeze than the musty spice of pine and shuffle of nocturnal creatures. A fearful, angry, wounded ego was creeping closer.

Rapha rose noiselessly and crept toward the source of this disturbance, guided by the panting breath of a dog and the pounding of a young heart bent on revenge.

Threading his way through the undergrowth, Rapha paused behind a tree trunk to watch the cloaked figure and accompanying canine creep closer to where Auda and Rafe lounged against a rock, her slender body tucked close to his side, her small hand entwined with his as they continued the quiet conversation and laughter.

For a moment the intruder observed them, but when Rapha saw the hand reach back, spear poised for flight, he leapt to wrench away the weapon and pin the would-be attacker to the ground.

In the ensuing scuffle, the cloaked figure struggled while the dog crouched and snarled. But the creature maintained a safe distance from Rapha, obviously remembering their earlier encounter.

“Stop fighting and you will not be harmed,” Rapha instructed as the hood fell back to reveal Elden, face flushed, eyes wild with fright and fury.

“If that thing has harmed her….”

“Quiet, Elden!” Auda commanded as she entered the clearing and strode to face him. “Call him ‘that thing’ again and I will kill you myself.”

“You will join with it by choice?” Elden said with a look of disgust. “It is an abomination!”

Her fist moved with the speed of a striking snake to connect with Elden’s nose. “He is more of a man than you will ever be!”

“You whore of giants!” Elden cried as he cupped his bleeding nose. He was given no chance to continue the insults since he suddenly found himself looking at the sky, held aloft by Rafe’s hands.

“This abomination can tear you in two,” Rafe’s voice shook with fury as he tossed Elden into a thorn bush. “I will try to understand your anger at losing her, but call her that again and those words will be your last.”

Rapha rushed to lend a hand to the bleeding Elden. “Your family needs you. The true enemy will be upon you in two days!”

“There is no proof of that!”

“When you have proof it will be too late.”

“For too long have we run from his kind,” Elden nodded toward Rafe. “We will not abandon our home and fields.”

“Then your fields will burn and your family will be slaughtered, or tortured in ways you cannot imagine,” Rafe said.

But Elden would not listen to reason. “Giants lie! Giants charm, and then destroy. You are no different from all the others! And you,” he turned to Auda, “are worse. A traitor to your own kind!”

Rafe’s hand went to the knife at his belt, but Rapha forced himself between them, “Enough! We will overlook your words because you are angry and young—but do not deprive your family of an able protector with your foolishness. Now go to them. Get them out of that valley or they will die!”

In the end, Rapha, Rafe, and Auda rushed to help Elden’s family when stormcrows were on the horizon, forcing the stunned group to abandon their fields and flocks.

“Leave it. You must not be seen,” Rapha ordered.

“You think us cowards?” Elden accused.

“No. Just a fool if you do not take your women to safety now!” Rafe lifted the youngest child and handed her to Auda even as the child cried to bring the baby goat. “No! Nothing must slow you. Go!”

As the family followed Auda to safety, Rapha and Rafe were left with the unpleasant task of destroying what would have fueled the marauders for weeks. They built fires, and then directed the blaze toward the ripened fields that flared and spread with a wind that flowed from the mountain. It was heartbreaking to witness the panic of the stock animals set free from their pens and maddened by the flames. At least they would not remain to feed the enemy.

But Rafe could not help himself. As he and Rapha ran toward the shelter of the trees, he scooped up the bleating baby goat and placed it on his shoulders.

As they watched from a high hidden cleft, the enemy swept into that valley with all the fury of hell itself, led by a huge being who swung a spiked club the size of a tree.

“Oh no,” Rafe breathed.

“You have seen this one before?”

“I killed his brother—and, uh, set… fire… to his hair,” he glanced at Rapha’s surprised expression. “The flaming arrow was meant to kill him. He must have called reinforcements.”

Rapha was grim as he took note of the well-armed troops and their leader, the crazed giant with a head that resembled a scorched hillock. The fire drove the giant to such fury he swung the club at his own troops, skewering a dozen with each sweep of his arm.

“Today is not our day of victory,” Rapha said, “unless victory is measured by survival. Come.”

Luckily, the sound of the goat was drowned by destruction as Rapha and Rafe made their way to meet the others, little realizing how many seasons would pass before they once again walked freely under the sun.

Chapter Thirty-One

Full Circle

Seventy years later…

Rapha watched the caravan coming closer like an ever-lengthening snake in the desert sand. How this land had changed since he had explored these hills with the young Cain and Abel. It was where their home had stood and where their flocks had grazed, but then the valleys had flowed with streams and the trees had been home to innumerable species. Today the scars of ceaseless war had rendered the land barren and desolate. However, since ruined, at least no one fought over this valley, thus there was a momentary peace. Perhaps it was the peace of death—but any reprieve was welcome. Not to worry. Rapha knew where water was available, enough to make this land flourish once again.

A glimmer of bright orange, like a miniature tongue of flame, caught his eye and Rapha watched as a desert flower opened its petals to the warmth of the rising sun, a vibrant defiance to its bleak surroundings. Hope brushed Rapha’s heart as he pondered the miracle of that seed. Through destruction and drought it had waited, a germ of life unquenched. This tiny flower was the first of spring’s blooms that lay just below the surface, sleepy but growing, thriving. Soon these hills would be ablaze with their short-lived triumph.

He glanced up again, shading his eyes against the sun’s rays. He had distracted himself with an hour’s concentration on the blossom but grew impatient. He had been so for weeks, ever since the raven had carried her message over the mountains.

His reply had been brief. “Come home.”

Ah! Good. The caravan was making steady progress though the trek through deep sand was slow, and camels, as a rule, did not like to be rushed. Anticipation of this meeting made his heart race. A feeling of youthfulness flushed his ancient veins. He hardly dared to name the emotion. He did not even trust the wind to know that Rapha, demoted angel, had reason to hope.

He studied the procession until he detected a diminutive figure swathed in white with a canopy suspended above. That must be her. Not able to contain himself any longer, Rapha directed a command to the camel that bore her, chuckling as the beast broke into a run and the white-swathed figure shook a fist toward Rapha. He began to stride across the sand toward her. He had waited almost eighty years for this meeting. That was long enough.

Finally.

The camels were unloaded, servants were deposited in their tents, everyone had received their fill of water and, when the coolness of evening descended, the old friends could speak freely.

“Not quite the same land you left behind, eh?”

“Nothing stays the same for long. It is the one thing on which I can rely.”

“Except for Adonai.”

“Yes. Adonai never changes. He has been my sanity and my strength,” the still lovely face smiled, bringing a glow to the golden eyes. But a hint of great sadness hung about her like a cloak.

Rapha leaned into the cushions and studied the woman before him. She glanced up and met his gaze. “Counting the new lines in my face since last we met?”

“No. Still I see the tree-climbing girl in you. Would your servants be surprised to know how unrefined you once were?”

“Every day I would climb, but it was the stairs to my roof where I would go to look in your direction and dream of escape.”

“I was happy to assist in that regard.”

“Yes,” she laughed, “the crows, ravens, and vultures that blanketed the city were very convincing. The darkest symbols of their superstitious fears come to life! They were willing to speed me on my way with Cain’s body. By the time the new king had changed his mind, deciding I would be a fitting sacrifice to appease the gods, I was already far away with Rafe.

“Tell me of Rafe.”

Joy flooded her features as she spoke, bringing to mind the teasing girl who had mesmerized the young Adam. “Rafe’s land is fruitful, his family flourishes and, best of all, they are hidden. Even my eyes were covered as we passed through the deep caverns leading to his kingdom.

“His kingdom,” Eve mused. “Rumors had reached my ears even in the palace, impossible tales of the might and riches of a people hidden in the depths of the earth.” Again she grinned. “Rafe was pleased to hear how he sports venom-filled fangs and prefers human flesh to that of his friends, the vicious beasts he controls with his mind who stalk any who are cruel to animals. It was a tale I told to palace children I caught throwing rocks at a sickly dog—the pampered, mean-spirited brats—and now it is repeated as fact.”

“And Auda?”

“She is the daughter I always wanted.” Eve paused to wipe her eyes. “The virtue of Rafe’s land, its healthful water and rich soil, prolong her life, Auda’s children adore her, and she reigns supreme in Rafe’s eyes. Never have I seen two people more in love, except for….” Eve’s voice trailed away and the shroud of grief again settled over her.

After a moment’s silence Rapha asked, “You brought Cain with you?”

She nodded, “It was his final request, to be returned to the land of his youth.”

“It is the answer to countless prayers.”

“Yes. I learned to praise Adonai for my captivity, for it put Cain in my sight. I could pray and love daily. And, when he was ready, I was there to lead him back to the arms of Adonai.”

“What of his wives and children?”

“They were poison to him, for that is what he made them. The son who murdered Cain was murdered by the next in line for the throne, and so the legacy continues. A mold of his body was made many years ago so they yet have his image of gold to worship, to remind all of them of their own importance—whose blood runs in their veins—of their right to continue his oppression.”

She sighed and took a sip of wine from her trembling hand before continuing. “Oh, Rapha. How I wanted so many times to flee that place. Innocence is consumed so quickly there. It seems babes come from the womb ready to devour everything within their grasp. Cain’s children, my own family, were corrupted, and continued the tradition before my eyes. It became impossible to watch them and keep my food down. Such hopelessness. Such foolish waste.”

The tears ran down Eve’s cheeks as she unburdened herself of the years of residence in Cain’s kingdom, of the horrors visited upon the helpless, and the delight taken in cruelty toward man or beast—in the name of spectacle, sport, or even worship. “My protests were met with scorn, just the ramblings of the king’s eccentric mother. Very few were saved by my efforts. Even the slave girls assigned to me would heed my teachings only until they were taken to the pleasure palaces, where any purity was burned from them. I felt almost cruel to offer hope since I knew what was in store.”

She paused, the bleakness of those years haunting her eyes. “There was one, Leda, she reminded me a bit of Sheatiel, who listened to my ramblings about the garden and Adonai’s plan for redemption. How her eyes lit from within and how she grasped my hands and asked me to whisper tales of the One True God’s love, for we did not dare speak of these things aloud. But we were found out. She was taken, and, when she claimed allegiance to the ‘God above all gods,’ she was included in the next public sacrifice—burned to the ‘glory of the gods.’ After that, I was given only deaf and mute serving girls.”

She glanced up with a hint of joy. “Now the truth of Adonai thrives among those who cannot hear—who in turn pass on that truth to the outcasts: the blind, the crippled, those with wasting disease. They are shunned and despised, even feared—not useful for profit or breeding—therefore they enjoy freedom in their poverty. I consider them my true offspring in that country. They suffer horribly, their lives are often short, but their faith is pure.”

When Rapha questioned whether she was included in the breeding program, Eve laughed. “Oh no. Cain would not allow it. He alone could claim to have issued from my loins. I was placed in a seat of honor at all the public functions, revered as a wife of the gods—but was absolutely off-limits since it was well known any man who touched me would be burned with fire from heaven.” She notched her chin higher as if she would have ensured the burning with or without heaven’s assistance. “But enough talk of that hateful place.”

The old friends spoke deep into the night, enjoying a depth of communion they had been denied for decades. At last, when a dim gray light shone through the flap of their shelter, Eve found the courage to ask what was foremost in her mind.

“Have you heard aught of Adam?”

Rapha related the tale told to him and Auda by Ochim and his family. He sighed before continuing, “Since then, only rumors from the ravens of a tall specter who hides from God and man alike and resembles a great, walking tree with bushy hair sprouting from his head and face. Even heaven is silent about him, as if he exists somewhere between heaven and earth.”

Eve’s eyes swept the dim horizon, visible through the open tent flap, “Cain had hoped to see him once more. In fact, I bear a message from Cain for him. He said, ‘Tell Adam he was the best of fathers.’”

The talk of Adam appeared to have drained the last of Eve’s strength so, with a hug for her old mentor, she slipped away to rest saying, “I think I shall sleep tonight.”

And she did.

Rapha did not see her again until the sun rose on the third day.