Army of God

by Dennis Bailey

  “I’m sure you surmised, two were friends of Bohar who assisted with the killings,” Malluch said.

  “Assisted?”

  “Mostly in helping to restrain the men. Bohar insisted on handling the mechanics of the executions himself. He said he’d mastered the proficiency of a physician near the end, able to slice through the large vein in the throat without touching the windpipe.”

  “And the third?”

  “Ah. Another acquaintance of Bohar’s. A selfless man who agreed to stand-in for him. You see, three killers had been seen, so three bodies had to be found.”

  “Naturally.”

  “Such a brave soul. I was thinking of having a memorial erected in his honor.”

  “What about the reward?”

  Malluch shook a finger in the air. “That, my friend, was a remarkable and totally unforeseen twist of fate. Were it possible, I would thank the elders for it. The reward was the perfect diversion, made more so by the fact it was their idea.”

  “So that’s why you never hesitated to increase it.”

  “Why would I? It provided the perfect cover for what I was doing. Every twenty to twenty-five murders, the elders would come to me demanding I increase the reward. What they didn’t know is I was more than happy to accede to their wishes. I would have offered ten talents of gold if asked.”

  “Seeing no one was ever going to collect it.”

  “Exactly.”

  “You know something?” Bohar said. “When you got to two hundred, I nearly turned myself in.”

  Malluch and Bohar laughed while Shechem—still furious over being deceived—could only grit his teeth. But he would still have to face the patriarchs. “What am I going to tell the elders?”

  “Tell them nothing,” Malluch said. “Right now the bodies are being burned, and no one else knows of their association with our friend here. Word is being spread these three fiends got what was coming to them. Some grieving father or husband executed justice in the name of the government. After a while, once everyone sees the killings have stopped, the questions will too.

  “Not from Lamech, my lord. I know him. He always suspected the killings were more than the work of a madman. If anyone can make the connection between the betrayal at the garden and the murders, it will be him.”

  “Why do you think I had Bohar eliminate an additional ten elder’s sons?”

  “I’m telling you, he’ll be able to see through it.”

  “He may suspect it. But without proof he wouldn’t dare raise an accusation of a conspiracy targeting those twenty-one cowards, not with another ninety-some innocent people having been killed.”

  Shechem fought to keep from reacting to the irony of Malluch’s use of the word “innocent,” nor was he at all convinced. Having dealt directly with Lamech for two years regarding the murders, he’d come to respect him for his insight. And with good reason.

  He’d been right.

  Chapter 42

  Noah and Shem were setting a beam midship when they heard Elisheva screaming her husband’s name. A moment later, Elisheva appeared around the corner of the stern. “Father—Shem—Ham. Hurry! Japheth’s in trouble.”

  The two men grabbed swords and met an armed Ham running toward them from the prow before proceeding down the right side of the ark. When they rounded the corner of the stern, Japheth rolled on the ground with one of the jaguars, their limbs wrapped around each other.

  Shem and Ham started toward their brother, but Noah held them back. “Wait a few moments.”

  “What?” Shem said. “He may not have a few moments.”

  “Look at your brother’s arm.”

  His left forearm rested unscathed and unbloodied inside the jaguar’s mouth. Neither did their brother cry out. Shem and Ham’s jaws dangled.

  Noah’s first instinct had also been to rush to his son’s aid, although even unarmed he believed Japheth capable of holding his own against the big cat. But his fear was quickly allayed by the animal’s apparent gentleness in combat. “Just watch,” Noah said.

  With the jaguar on top, their brother drew his legs up under the cat’s belly and with a loud grunt thrust him twenty cubits away.

  The animal quickly recovered and bounded back, launching himself through the air with a growl. The elder son caught the jaguar by the shoulders, falling onto his back in a reverse summersault that sent the huge cat flying overhead.

  This time, Japheth was first to his feet, jumping on the jaguar’s back and putting him in a headlock. The cat bowed his head to the ground, alternating swipes with his paws trying to dislodge his rider. Although he struck him in the head several times, his claws never broke the skin.

  When this tactic failed, the cat raced across the hill, stopping every few paces in an attempt to shake him off.

  Ham was first to realize what was going on. “Ride him, big brother.”

  “Father, make them stop,” Elisheva said.

  On the next pass across the hill, the jaguar stopped abruptly, sending Japheth flying over his head. He bounced up and stood with his knees bent and arms extended, readying himself for another pass. Other than a few scrapes from the ground, he appeared uninjured.

  “All right you two, that’s enough for now,” Noah said.

  The jaguar started again for Japheth, who raised a single finger. “Ah, ah.”

  The animal halted, dipping his head in apparent disappointed.

  Elisheva ran to embrace her husband, then pushed away his towering body. “What is wrong with you? Scaring me like that. I thought for sure he was going to eat you.”

  “I’m sorry, but he wanted to play. He kept swatting at me so I’d pay attention to him. I figured the only way I was going to get any work done was to tire him out.”

  Japheth approached the jaguar, reaching down to scratch behind his ears. The cat playfully bit his hand.

  “Well, the next time you want to wrestle with a jaguar or put your head inside a crocodile’s mouth, have the courtesy to tell someone first, will you?”

  Japheth’s face lit up like a little boy’s, looking past his wife to his father and brothers. “Are the crocs here yet?”

  “Very funny.”

  * * *

  Shechem smiled, nodding to several of the merchants in the marketplace who waved when he led his soldiers back into the city from their latest campaign. Now that the murders had ended, he was relieved to have returned to his primary job of securing riches and slaves for Eden.

  Six weeks following the last death, he’d returned with a fine load—one hundred fifty slaves and a half talent of gold wrested from the southwestern territories.

  Inside, he fumed over Malluch’s deception. He was the commander of Eden’s army and, up until then, a trusted friend. It devastated him to learn that for two years he’d been relegated to the rank of patsy. How long had he been lied to about other matters?

  Yet being used was only part of it. The wound to his ego, though crushing, could be expected to heal with the passage of time. More disconcerting was Malluch’s callousness toward those innocents whose death he countenanced in the name of vengeance. Shechem had expected as much out of Bohar, but for his longtime benefactor to sanction mass murder against his own people amounted to the vilest form of corruption. It was a side of his old friend he’d never expected.

  He made his way past the palace, through the north gate and west to the slave camp. He was surprised to find Lamech and a group of elders waiting for him. Malluch, in an effort to mollify the elders, had consented for them to bring gifts of fruit and medicine to the slaves once a month. But this was the first time they’d ever been there when he returned with a load of prisoners.

  “I see your hunting trip was a success, Commander,” Lamech said, pointing to the long lines of men shackled together.

  “Malluch still has plans for an arena and more winepresses.”

  “Can’t you see how wrong this is, Commander?” Methuselah said. “To turn those made in the similitude of God into beasts o
f burden?”

  “You heard what he said. Buildings won’t rise by themselves.”

  “You could speak to him,” Lamech said.

  “Suppose I did. Have you forgotten Malluch’s vow? Do you want to see all these men killed?”

  Chains rattled and the heads of most of the prisoners within earshot snapped up. Some of the elders lowered their eyes.

  “I didn’t think so,” Shechem said. Silently, the elders moved away, and he started for the camp entrance, relieved Lamech hadn’t brought up the subject of the murders.

  “I guess you’re relieved the killings have stopped, aren’t you Commander?” Lamech said.

  The question seemed to pinch the nerve running from his spine to his feet, stopping him cold. He whirled around. “It’s been a long two years.”

  “Yes. Still, it must have been disappointing to learn vigilantes had robbed you of the opportunity to interview the killers. Especially after all the effort you expended trying to catch them.”

  “It was.”

  “I think we all would have liked to know what motivated them.”

  “Yes. Like you, I never could accept the lone madman theory.”

  “Were you able to identify them?”

  “Unfortunately, no. It looks like they were strangers to the city.”

  “There was a rumor they had their throats slit.”

  Shechem nodded. “A fitting end, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Tell me, Commander, how many people were killed before these three met their demise?”

  “One hundred and thirteen, I believe.”

  “And of these, would you happen to know the number who were sons to the elders?”

  He didn’t know where Lamech was going with this, but he didn’t want to be tripped up by a lie that would come back to bite him. “Exactly thirty-one.”

  “Did you know twenty-one of them had accompanied Malluch on a raid to the garden seventy years ago—a raid that left his father and brother dead?”

  Lamech paused and Shechem felt the blood drain from his face.

  “But of course you did,” Lamech said. “Because you were there.”

  That’s where he’s going. But now was not the time for candor. Besides, he, too, had been ignorant of what Malluch was up to until the end. “In the midst of all the murders, I’m afraid I was too preoccupied to recognize the coincidence.”

  “Coincidence?”

  “I don’t see how you can call it anything more, not with another ten elders’ sons and over eighty other citizens killed.”

  “Maybe not. But it would have been a good question to pose to the killers—how their random killing spree happened to include those twenty-one?”

  Shechem nodded.

  “Had they survived, of course,” Lamech said.

  The corners of Lamech’s lips lifted slightly. It was the same look he’d seen when he denied knowledge about the destruction of Eden’s god. Shechem took a step toward the gates of the camp.

  “Bohar.” Lamech called out.

  Shechem spun back around. “What about him?”

  “Isn’t he supposed to be good with a knife?”

  “Yes. I suppose he is.”

  Chapter 43

  In the 552nd year of Noah . . .

  Noah glanced briefly at the setting sun before returning his attention to the end of the main rail he and Shem held in place between two rib frames. Ham and Japheth held firm the other end.

  “All right, my daughters. Let’s get this nailed while we still have the light.” Shiphrah and Elisheva hammered in the last of the pegs securing the rail to the frame and joined the others in climbing down.

  On the ground, they all stared up at the completed frame, smiling and congratulating each other. Even Ham seemed pleased to have finished this portion of the construction. It had taken them just over ten years to complete the skeleton a second time. During that time, they’d received assistance from pairs of arriving rhinoceroses, yaks, and large brown bears—brutes well suited for the tasks of pulling and lifting.

  And yet, the project proved more than just a backbreaking exercise in ship construction. Often, it served as a source of entertainment for the builders and some of the site’s first arrivals.

  Each new section of framing drew an increasing level of interest from some of the large cats. More than once, Noah and his family found themselves marveling at the nimbleness with which they bounded up and down the structure. The jaguars, leopards, and panthers, in particular, had all but turned the ark’s skeleton into their own piece of recreation equipment. He would miss their antics once they’d hulled over the frame.

  The lions, though, always remained on guard at ground level.

  While the women, Shem, and Ham continued their small celebration, no one seemed to notice Japheth had moved forty cubits away toward the ship’s prow. Gazing north, he leaned against the ark with his right forearm. He’d grown curiously silent. “Thinking about your grandfather?” Noah said, coming up behind him.

  “Today’s his birthday.”

  “I know.”

  Japheth turned to Noah. “I remember one birthday when we were children, Grandfather took Shem and I with him to the hills of Havilah to search for gold.”

  Noah nodded in recollection.

  “Each night we’d camp out under the stars, and Grandfather would keep us up all night telling scary stories. Of course, we never found any gold, just a few onyx stones. But Shem and I had the best time. Here it was his birthday, and he was treating us like it was ours.”

  “Having you two around was the best way he knew to celebrate it.”

  “I sure hope he’s not spending this one in prison.”

  “I doubt your grandfather’s in prison. Malluch may have control of the government. He may even have the army to back him up. But he’s smart enough to know he needs at least compliance from the people if he wants his regime to survive. And that’s something he’d never get if he imprisoned or executed one of the patriarchs.”

  “I wish I could be as confident as you.” Japheth kicked a clod of dirt and started down the hill.

  Noah signaled to the lioness lying thirty cubits away. “Come on, girl. That’s it for today.” When they reached the bottom, he paused for a last look up the hill, the setting sun a brilliant garnet through the ark’s skeleton. It reminded him of a great abandoned carcass, behemoth or leviathan, stripped of its meat.

  Adding to the surreal scene, a lone leopard fearlessly traversed the port side top rail thirty cubits above the ground. It bowed its head while it walked, giving the appearance of searching for that last remaining morsel of flesh.

  * * *

  Shechem lay more than an arm’s length away from the sleeping stranger that was his wife, her straight, dark hair draped across the curvature of her bosom. Since he didn’t believe in counting sheep, he chose instead to count her breaths. In—out. In—out. In . . . For over 220 years, she’d fallen asleep in his arms. Now it seemed she couldn’t find enough space between them.

  He slid closer, slipping his arm beneath her and drawing her into his chest. She moaned softly.

  His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts keeping him from sleep. The decade following the murders had marked a season of change, both for him and the citizens of Eden.

  During that time, Eden’s army had grown to its original projected strength of five thousand men. The additional manpower allowed him to split his forces and conduct simultaneous campaigns in separate regions of the territory, resulting in a marked increase in plunder and slave power secured for Eden.

  Another change came with Malluch ordering the placement of additional gods—sacred pillars, wooden images, and incense altars. He’d convinced himself such worship places had increased the fortunes of Enoch and was determined to emulate them. Shechem had overseen the construction of ten of these so-called high places, five each along two separate ridges to the northwest and northeast of the city. As expected, their erection had not come without protest from the patr
iarchs.

  Two things hadn’t changed: Shechem still suspected his wife was having an affair, and he was determined to find out with whom. Not that their relationship at home provided any indication.

  They rarely argued. In fact, they argued less now than they ever had. Whenever an issue arose where they seemed to disagree, Claudia quickly apologized, even over the most minor perceived slights. Too much harmony existed in the home, as though she was working hard to allay any suspicions. Except for the fact she rarely invited him to come in to her, everything was perfect. Maybe too perfect.

  With the elder’s son gone, the silk merchant had moved to the top of his list of suspects—and with good reason. He was handsome. He was attentive to Claudia. His trade provided him regular access to her. But most of all, Shechem had uncovered a secret about him dating back to the time of Eden’s murders.

  Because the young boy’s murder had interrupted his surveillance the night he’d followed his wife, he never learned where she’d gone that night. All he knew was it had to be somewhere in the northeast section of the city, the last place he’d seen her before she’d disappeared. He had little reason to suspect the silk merchant then, knowing he resided on the opposite side of Eden with a wife and four children.

  Then one day a rumor he was bringing women to a small cottage in the area where the boy had been killed led Shechem to investigate for himself. He’d followed the silk merchant there during the day, ducking around corners and into doorways whenever the man looked over his shoulder. He waited for over an hour for him to leave before entering through a rear window.

  The cottage’s single bed and sparse furnishings told him the abode had indeed been readied as a lover’s hideaway. Yet, he could find no evidence of his wife ever having been there. No women’s clothing. No lingering odor of perfume. Not even a strand of hair.