by Brian Godawa
“The gods are not the only ones who have contingency plans,” said Gilgamesh.
“Then let me offer you this,” said Noah. “If you consider yourself worthy of immortality, then show your power over the simplest of weaknesses: Sleep.”
Gilgamesh looked at him with surprise.
Noah added, “If you can stay awake for seven days, then I will tell you where you may find a magic plant that rests in the ocean of the Abyss, one that will return your youth to you. It is called ‘plant of heartbeat,’ or as I like to call it, ‘Old-Man-Has-Become-Young-Again.’”
Emzara jerked a look at him and blurted out, “Noah!”
Urshanabi rolled his eyes. This contest was going to continue on after all.
Noah ignored Emzara and added, “You will not achieve immortality, but it will return you to your prime of youth and allow another lifetime to accomplish all the glory you seek.”
Finally Emzara held his arm to get his attention. She could no longer stay silent.
“What are you doing, Noah?” she exclaimed. “That secret was ours for safekeeping. You know the devastation that could cause.”
Gilgamesh interrupted them, “I am sorry you have such little faith in me, great grandmother.” He turned back to Noah and said, “But I accept the challenge.”
Noah was no fool. He had appealed to Gilgamesh’s biggest weakness, his vanity. And Gilgamesh had fallen for the bait. A man puffed up with pride, be he human or demigod, was a man about to fall. Pride was something Noah knew all too well. And now he was maneuvering that self-knowledge into an advantage.
Chapter 46
Gilgamesh was shown to a small hut for rest. He was just going to sit down and prepare for his next exploit of staying awake for seven straight days and nights. He sat down on his bed and realized that he had better not lay down or he would pass out instantly. He had just pushed his body to the extreme limit of endurance that no man had ever done before or after him. This would not be so easy a task.
His eyelids immediately grew heavy. Even though he was not allowed to sleep, he thought he would just shut his eyes for a moment to rest them. But when he did, all the physical exertion of the previous couple of weeks came crashing down on him. He immediately fell backwards on the bed, but it jarred him awake and he jerked up again.
He stood back up because the bed was like a phantom calling him for sleep. He felt like he had a second wind, like he was refreshed and ready for this next trial after all.
But then he noticed something beside his bed that was not there only moments ago when he sat down. There were seven loaves of bread at various stages of decay sitting on separate platters. He looked more closely and noticed that they were each progressively more decayed than the previous, as if one had been baked each day for seven days and laid out in order to rot.
He felt a presence at the door, and turned to see Noah with Emzara and Urshanabi standing over him as if in judgment.
“How did these loaves get here?” asked Gilgamesh. “I blinked my eyes for one moment and when I opened them again, they were here as if by magic. Are you a sorcerer of some kind?”
“I baked those loaves, one each day for seven days,” said Emzara.
Gilgamesh was not following. “When?” he asked.
“For the seven days you have been sleeping,” said Noah.
“But I just closed my eyes for a moment,” said Gilgamesh.
“You slept for seven days,” countered Noah with an authority in his voice that Gilgamesh knew declared he was not lying.
And then he added, “Instead of staying awake for seven days, you slept for seven days. Your body caught up on all the sleep you deprived yourself of — almighty god.”
That last sting was a sarcastic mockery of Gilgamesh’s vanity.
Gilgamesh boiled, “You are sorcerers. You put a spell on me.”
Emzara said, “I am a baker. I baked seven loaves of bread as you slept, Gilgamesh.”
He could not deny it. He knew they were right. His head spun, but not with confusion. Seven days of sleep had brought back his wits and his sharp ability to strategize on the fly.
He stood up to his nine foot height and strode up to Noah, grabbing his robe and lifting him to Gilgamesh’s face, Noah’s feet dangling in the air.
Urshanabi stepped back in fear.
Emzara grabbed his arm, “Please, Gilgamesh, no,” she pleaded.
Gilgamesh stared into Noah’s eyes with animosity and said, “You will tell me where the plant is.”
Noah just stared back. Gilgamesh looked down at Emzara, still pulling at his arm.
He dropped Noah and grabbed Emzara’s head in his hands. She froze, a mouse caught in the paws of a giant feline.
Gilgamesh looked over at Noah and reiterated his command with a whisper that was more venomous, more terrifying than the shout of a war goddess. “You will tell me where the plant is, or I will crush your beloved’s life out of her.”
It did not require any thought. Noah immediately barked out, “I will tell you!”
Gilgamesh did not release her. He waited expectantly for more.
Noah said to Urshanabi, “Take him past the Waters of Death, to the mainland by way of the black coral beds. One hundred feet out from the beds, near the ledge of the Abyss.”
Urshanabi nodded with recognition.
Noah then said to Gilgamesh, “It is surrounded by deadly coral that will kill anything that touches it. It will be like withdrawing a flower from a pit of snakes.”
Gilgamesh released Emzara. Noah ran to her, grasping her for all his life.
Gilgamesh said with disappointment, “There sure are a lot of deadly elements in these waters.” Noah did not tell him of the far greater terror that lived in the crevice of the Abyss. He thought it fair to let him find that one out for himself.
Gilgamesh sighed and turned to leave. He was not wasting any more time. “Come, Urshanabi.” He turned back with one last look at Noah, “And if it is not there, I will return for blood.”
Gilgamesh and Urshanabi left them. Noah and Emzara embraced each other.
“What will become of this monster?” asked Emzara. “With such rejuvenation, he could destroy everything. What is this secret plan? Is it another war of gods and men?”
Noah watched them walking away with a dark pall of realization over him. He said, “It is time for us to return to the land between the two rivers. Elohim’s work with us is not yet done.”
She looked up at him. She knew what he meant and dreaded it. But she also knew that their lives were in the hands of Elohim, had always been in the hands of Elohim. From the moment their tribe was slaughtered to her captivity in Uruk and Noah’s descent into Sheol, God had delivered them at the last moment from the hands of Inanna and her minions and brought them safely through the waters of the Flood. He would take care of them now.
It had taken many years for her to heal from what their son Ham had done to her. His violation was not only depraved in a personal sense of defilement, it was an act of evil that she knew would result in a generational curse that only began with the fruit of that unholy violation: Canaan.
Chapter 47
Gilgamesh and Urshanabi made their way back to the mainland. The Waters of Death were far behind them. When they were still a league out, Urshanabi stopped Gilgamesh from rowing and indicated that they were by the black coral beds, the location of the magic plant of heartbeat that Noah had told him about.
Urshanabi said, “We drop anchor here.”
Gilgamesh corrected him, “No, I will be the anchor.”
Urshanabi watched as Gilgamesh unleashed the rope from the two anchor stones and tied it around his waist. Then he leashed the anchor stones to his own feet to weigh him down and carry him to the bottom.
Gilgamesh picked up the two huge weights, looked at Urshanabi and said slyly, “Do not go anywhere now.”
He took a huge gulp of air and leapt off the side of the boat and let the stones pull him to the bottom of the rid
ge near the coral reef.
As a demigod, Gilgamesh’s lung capacity was extraordinary. He did not need as much air as a human to stay conscious, and could stay below for as long as fifteen minutes with ease, and twenty or so if needed for survival.
When he reached the bottom, the stones hit and shook the ridge. He reached below and tied his feet directly to the blocks so that he could use them as stilts, enabling him to walk on the deadly coral without touching his skin.
He immediately began walking the bottom for the coral bed. His footsteps echoed down the crevice with each weighted step. They were heavy and used a lot of his energy up just to get to the coral bed.
The footsteps created a vibration of his presence that sent fish of all kinds scattering. But the vibrations also echoed down into the crevice of the Abyss, where it roused other creatures of the deep.
He reached the coral and stepped upon the bed, crushing the deadly reef material beneath his feet. If the poison would not kill the organism that came into contact with it, the razor sharp edges would bleed it to death. He was safe from the deadly poison and cutting edges as he considered how like a Stone One he was at this very moment.
Then he found it. It was a plant that looked just the thorny dog-rose plant that existed on land. It was surrounded by the coral with just enough for the plant to get some nutrients and just enough for Gilgamesh to get his arm through to grab the plant.
He moved with caution, knowing that the slightest miscalculation would cost him his life and leave his body to be eaten by fish in the depths of the sea. His heart beat faster.
The plant of heartbeat, he thought. The coral of death. Ironic that opposites could grow so close together.
He had to pull it out of the sediment. But if he jerked too suddenly from the plant leaving its bed, he would surely touch the razor coral just inches from his skin.
He pulled with the most controlled force he could. But it came out easily. The roots were not deep. Thank the gods.
Slowly his hand moved out, narrowly avoiding the edges of the killer coral.
But he did it. He got the plant out without touching the coral.
Strange, he thought. Of all my dangerous death defying deeds I have achieved, this was the only one that went easily without a hitch.
He was wrong.
As he backed up from the coral, his resounding footsteps caused more rumbling thuds that ran through the rock bed down into the crevice. One of the roused creatures of the deep was now provoked.
Gilgamesh paused, suddenly aware of a change. He felt the water all around him go very cold. He realized that it was not the water. It was his Naphil extra sense. Danger was coming. Very big danger.
He was near the ledge of the crevice and felt a wave undulating from out of the Abyss push him back. It was the result of something gargantuan moving up the crevice at a fast pace.
Gilgamesh was about out of air and did not want to see what was coming. He cut the ropes tying his feet to the blocks, cut the rope that was attached to him as anchor, and began to swim furiously for the surface.
But he would not be fast enough to outrace the monstrous sea dragon that surged out of the crevice of the Abyss. It was the size of several large ships, it had seven heads, and it came straight for him.
It was Leviathan, sea dragon of chaos.
Its body was covered with armor like potsherds, its mighty two pronged tail propelling it through the water with powerful force, each of its seven mouths filled with monstrous rows of gleaming fangs that could slice through him faster than the coral he just avoided. Gilgamesh had known of the existence of the creature, but had only thought it was a metaphor for the powers of chaos that the gods would suppress when they established their order. He did not think it was real.
But it was real.
And it was almost upon him.
He turned toward the creature, and when he saw it, all his senses came alive. He grabbed his dagger with futility, knowing that he was going to die.
Instinctively he dropped the plant from his hand and prepared in position to get at least one good stab in a brain or an eye before being crushed in the jaws of death.
But the strangest thing happened. The sea dragon suddenly changed its course to glide completely beneath Gilgamesh. One of the heads caught the sinking plant in its jaws and it kept going without attacking Gilgamesh.
It had seven heads, any one of which could easily have snapped him up without even slowing down. But they did not.
It was as if it knew who he was and was on its own mission to steal the plant. Maybe it had been waiting in the crevice for just such an opportunity because its size was too big to retrieve the plant without being cut and poisoned by the coral. No matter how colossal it was, it was still a creature whose life could be poisoned to death.
Gilgamesh tumbled in the undertow of the wake created by the immense submarine creature passing him by.
Unfortunately, its waving tail came into contact with him and shot him upward like a jet stream.
Urshanabi was sitting in his boat watching it all happen below him. He was frozen in terror, but he would not have been able to do anything anyway.
What snapped him out of his trance was seeing Gilgamesh burst out of the water high into the air yelling, “HO, HURRAH!” before plummeting back to the sea with a splash.
The spine covered back of Leviathan broke the water on its speedy departure.
Urshanabi thanked the gods Leviathan had overlooked his little boat, which could have exploded into splinters with a flip of its tail.
Gilgamesh dragged himself from the water onto the boat, trying to catch his breath as Urshanabi screamed at him in a state of shock.
“What happened down there? Where did it come from? Why did not it eat you? Where is it going? Did you get the plant?”
Gilgamesh looked at him and said, “Urshanabi, shut up.”
Urshanabi obeyed. He knew Gilgamesh well enough by now to know that he should shut up when told to.
Gilgamesh said, “I retrieved the plant, but it must have felt the vibrations of my heavy stone footsteps on the sea bottom and came out of the Abyss. It took the plant, but it did not take me. It was as if it knew who I was and it was ordered not to kill me.”
“Ordered by who?” asked Urshanabi.
“How should I know?” snapped Gilgamesh. “It did not come up to me and tell me what was on its mind, fool.”
Urshanabi thought for a moment and replied, “I know that the gods had bewitched it before the Flood to do their bidding. Noah told me as much. The goddess Inanna used enchantment spells to capture it and release it upon the enemy in the War of Gods and Men. But that was many years ago. Could they still have some kind of sway over it?”
“Well, I intend to find out,” said Gilgamesh. “Set me on a course back to Uruk at the mouth of the rivers.”
Chapter 48
Gilgamesh had been gone a long time from his mighty city-state of Uruk. This had allowed Ishtar to rebuild the portions of her temple and complex that the felled Huluppu tree had demolished. She wasted extravagant expense on the complex. It had taxed the treasury, but she did not care. It was one way to get revenge on Gilgamesh for the humiliation he had paid her. A king without sufficient financial resources was not a loved king.
She had much of her own way to plot and scheme for the future. Her access to Ninsun was limited, thanks to the bodyguard protection afforded her by Ninurta, that overgrown brooding bully. She knew that once Gilgamesh got back, that god of broccoli would transfer his attention to his true ward, the king. Ishtar would then have Ninsun all to herself.
She had developed a playful way to ridicule Ninurta, by calling him derogatory titles that could technically be considered legitimate. Thus she could not be accused of provocation. She would refer to him as “Mighty Cucumber Deity” or “God of Weeds,” all legitimate parts of the world of vegetation over which he ruled. She could see it annoyed him, and that was her goal. It would all add up and one day, he would
lose his control and she would have the advantage.
But Ishtar was restless. The assembly of gods had hidden away at Mount Hermon and had left her out of their secret plans. Uruk had a history of greatness, but she felt its time was waning. Other kings were vying for position and power. Kingship would move to other city-states as they naturally did. Uruk was still the city of Anu, its patron deity, and she was only considered an escort of the sky god. No matter how glorious she made her temple complex, she would still only be an escort of the patron deity of the city and not the supreme being. She wanted her own city to rule over. She wanted more power. She wanted more.
Ninsun prepared for another sacrifice on her roof to the seemingly absentee Shamash. Ever since her confession to Gilgamesh of his adopted status, Ninsun could barely live with herself. She had thrown herself even more deeply into her religion to salve the pain. She had loved Gilgamesh with all her heart and soul. To her, he was her child. Spirit was thicker than blood. She knew him better than he knew himself. And she knew that Gilgamesh would go to the ends of the earth to find the truth and to attain eternal life even if it killed him to do so.
And he did go on a quest to the ends of the earth to find his ancestor, Noah the Distant and Faraway in the magical island of Dilmun. She knew that he would learn the full truth from Noah because Noah was a righteous man, to a fault. But just what the full truth was, Ninsun did not know herself. All she knew was what she already told Gilgamesh: He was the bastard son of god and human, rejected by his true ancestor, the great Flood survivor, and given in secret adoption to avoid the curse that no doubt followed him. It would crush him. If he made it back alive to Uruk with this self-revelation she feared he would either go mad with despair and kill himself, or go mad with bitterness and lay waste to the world.
So Ninsun found herself spending many hours in prayer every day for her son, and seeking the penance that would grant her forgiveness for her failure to protect him from the truth. She could not shake the guilt.
