Army of God

by Dennis Bailey

  But his wife’s coolness towards him and the existence of the cottage only increased his skepticism. He was convinced somebody was being brought there, and judging from the silk merchant’s furtive behavior doubted it was his own wife.

  Time and again he tried to repeat the strategy he’d used the first time: assure Claudia of his required absence from home and conduct surveillance. He’d employed the tactic nearly forty times in the last ten years—both day and night—including less than two weeks ago. All with the same result. Other than to visit the palace or go to the marketplace, his wife never left the house.

  Nor had anyone come to visit while Shechem was away. Too much chance they’d be spotted by someone.

  After years of anxiety, the stress of not knowing started to wear on him. Frustrated by his inability to catch her, yet certain of her infidelity, he briefly pondered having the silk merchant murdered. He even considered using Bohar to carry out the execution. Ultimately, he decided against it, fearing word of another throat-slasher stalking the city would cause a panic. He also didn’t want to repeat the mistake he’d made in wrongly suspecting the murdered elder’s son.

  He had to be patient. Sooner or later they would make a mistake, and when he caught them, he would kill them. He fantasized about finding them together, and with a single thrust skewering both bodies at once.

  Tonight, he anticipated his fantasy coming true.

  Malluch had thrown a celebration at the palace to commemorate his son’s one hundredth birthday. Most of Eden’s elites were in attendance. Shechem was standing a dozen cubits from Claudia, but with a full view of her face when the silk merchant first entered the hall. The commander watched his wife’s head follow him making his way through the crowd. Other women did the same, for the silk merchant was a handsome man. But Claudia looked at him like she hadn’t seen him in her house once every three months for the past thirty years.

  She had the look of a hungry wolf. The only thing she hadn’t done was lick her lips. But even that only slightly irritated him. What concerned him most was how she so clumsily peeked behind to check on his whereabouts.

  The silk merchant was more subtle, offering only a smile and a short bow when he arrived at Claudia and their eyes met.

  “Commander,” Malluch said, motioning for him to join him across the room. Following 270 parts of discussion with his son on topics ranging from the building of winepresses to military tactics, Shechem scanned the hall.

  Claudia and the silk merchant had disappeared.

  “Excuse me, my lord,” he said.

  He exited the hall and searched the palace and its grounds. He entered every unoccupied room, balcony, and storage area. He traversed every cubit of hallway on all three floors of the palace, including the courtyard.

  Moving down one hallway, he came upon two women and a man coming toward him from the opposite direction. They hugged the walls while offering looks of bemusement when they passed. Confused by their reaction, he looked down to see a knife in his right hand that he had no memory of drawing. He hastily returned it to its sheath beneath his tunic.

  Finally, he entered his own home. If they were together, he couldn’t find them.

  Half an hour later, he returned to the great hall. When he entered, Claudia and the silk merchant stood next to a table of food and drink, conversing together with Malluch and eight other guests.

  Shechem doubted his senses, and for the first time feared the onset of paranoia. Had Claudia and the silk merchant really ever left, or had they simply been eclipsed by the more than five hundred guests that filled the hall? Was he so desperate to catch them together he’d imagined the whole thing?

  He moved to the table, filled a chalice with wine and drank it down. He refilled it and drank another. Then a third.

  Now, laying with Claudia’s head nestled in the crook of his armpit, the tension of an ordeal fueled by a wild imagination subsided. He started to doze. Claudia moaned again, this time pushing herself away and rolling over. He looked across the bed at the coldness of her back mocking him, then dropped his head back on the pillow.

  He closed his eyes, hoping Elisheva would come to him in his dreams.

  Chapter 44

  Noah hoped the passing of his father’s birthday would allow Japheth to refocus his energies back to working on the ark.

  It hadn’t.

  For the past several days he appeared edgy, distracted. Twice today, Noah had to call him back to work from a place at the prow where he sat alone staring into the wilderness. The second time, he swung around, face glaring. “All right. I’m coming.”

  One hundred eighty parts later, he stopped in the middle of trimming a board, threw his saw to the ground, and climbed down the ark.

  “What’s got him riled?” Shiphrah said as the two of them watched him march down the hill.

  “Something other than what I’m thinking, I hope.” Since Miryam had already gone to prepare the evening meal, he announced they were quitting for the day. He waved for Shem and Ham to join them from the stern.

  When they reached the house, they paused just outside the door to the sound of Miryam’s voice. “You can’t go back. You’ll be killed.”

  Noah and the others came through the door to find Japheth packing a bag. Elisheva scurried across the room to him. “What’s this? Where are you going?”

  Shoving a folded tunic into the bag, his fist hit the bottom with a thud. “We never should have left him.”

  “Who?”

  “How could you have done it, Father?” Japheth said to him. “And lived with it all these years?” He shook his head. “I should have gone back to get him that night.”

  Noah’s stomach tightened at having to hurt his oldest. “He wouldn’t have come with you.”

  “Can you say for certain? Can anyone?”

  “What I told you then was the truth. Your grandfather said he would never leave the land of his fathers, not even to save his own life.”

  Japheth walked into the other room and came back with two loaves of bread, the first which he stuffed into the bag. “Maybe it’s time somebody tried to change his mind.”

  “Do you think you’re the only one who’s missed him? Who’s lost sleep over him? Do you think my heart hasn’t ached for him every day since we left Eden?”

  “How about him?” Japheth used the other loaf to point to his youngest brother before thrusting it in the bag. “Can his heart ache for someone he’s never met? How about it, little brother? Would you like to meet your grandfather?”

  Ham glanced at his father then to his oldest brother.

  “No,” Miryam said. “I’m not risking both of you.”

  Miryam stared them both down.

  “What brought this on?” Noah said.

  “What? Missing Grandfather?”

  “I meant what brought it on today?”

  “There’s no better time, Father. The ark’s frame is complete. And Elisheva is more than skilled enough to take my place until I can return with him.” He picked up his sword and lay it on top of the packed bag.

  “Japheth,” Shem said. “You know I’d be the last one to argue with you about wanting to see Grandfather, but it’s been more than fifty years. Who knows if he’s even alive?”

  “That’s what I have to find out.”

  “And if he is and still refuses to come with you, what are you going to do, kidnap him?” Shem said.

  Japheth planted his feet squarely. “I’ll think of something.”

  “Suppose he’s in prison,” Shem said. “We know Eden has an army now. Do you really think you’d be able to recruit enough men to help break him out?”

  “I thought you were on my side.”

  “I am. Look, I miss Grandfather too. I just want you to think with your head instead of your emotions.”

  “Son,” Noah said to Japheth. “You’re forgetting about the Lord’s proclamation.”

  Moistness seeped into his son’s eyes. “You mean the one that says I get to live
and he has to die? Who am I that I should be chosen over a man like Grandfather, a man who feared God all his life?”

  “I told you before, the Lord has promised to pardon him from the floodwaters He’s sending upon the earth.”

  “Good. Then why shouldn’t he spend whatever time he has left here with his family? He’s as good a carpenter as any of us. He could help with the ark.”

  With a nod, Miryam confirmed to her husband what they both must be thinking. “You can’t go back to Eden,” Noah said.

  “Why not?”

  “If you’re caught, Malluch would have you killed, or worse, torture you to find out where we are.”

  “It’s not my plan to get caught.”

  “A strategy no doubt shared by thousands who have been.” He forced a chuckle. “I didn’t plan on getting caught either.”

  “I’ll be careful.”

  “Will you stop thinking of yourself for a part!” Miryam said in an explosion of emotion rare for her. “Your father just said Malluch could find us by torturing you. Do you want to put this whole family at risk just to satisfy some selfish need of yours?”

  “I was thinking about Grandfather.”

  “No, you weren’t. How many times has your father told you? Your grandfather refused to come. Believe me, son, I understand your love for him. We all do. But this whole idea of wanting to bring him here is about what you want, not what he wants.”

  “How do you know his wishes?”

  “Your grandfather would want you to be obedient to your father, just as your father was the night he had to accept leaving him behind in Eden.”

  Japheth shook his head. “I’m sorry, Mother, but I have to go.” He picked up his sword and bag and headed for the door.

  “Japheth,” Elisheva said softly.

  He stopped short of the door when she called his name.

  “Did it ever occur to you your grandfather is exactly where the Lord wants him to be?” Her voice was calm, but resolute.

  He wheeled around. “What do you mean?”

  “Think about it. If God had wanted him here, isn’t it more likely your grandfather would have accepted your father’s invitation the night we fled Eden?”

  “Maybe, but—”

  “For all you know, the Lord may be using your grandfather right now to perform some service there. He may be the only one left with influence enough among the people to keep them united in opposition to Malluch’s government.”

  He sighed, and his features softened. “I never thought about it that way.”

  “Of course you didn’t. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be so quick to go back there and get yourself killed. And what about your great-grandfather, Methuselah? Did you ever stop to consider your grandfather might be needed in Eden to help care for him in his last years?”

  There was something soothing in her voice. Something melodic in its tone, almost hypnotic. Noah felt its disarming power. The more she spoke, the less agitated Japheth became. Soon, the redness in his glower drained away.

  He moistened his lips. “All right. You win.”

  Elisheva hugged him tightly.

  Japeth leaned his sword against the wall, then removed the bread and tunic from the bag and put them back.

  * * *

  Several hours past midnight, Noah returned to bed from his third check on Japheth.

  “He still asleep?” Miryam said.

  “Like a baby.”

  “I hope you’re not planning to do this every night, seeing he’s 342 years old.”

  “No, just for the next few nights until he’s back to normal.”

  “Do you think he’ll try to leave again?”

  “I don’t know, but if he does it will probably be in the middle of the night.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “So he doesn’t have to face you.”

  Miryam elbowed him in the side. “What does that mean?”

  “You did a good job of beating him over the head with the guilt stick.”

  “Yes, but it was Elisheva who got him to stay.”

  “It’s a good thing, too. He blames me for leaving his grandfather, so I don’t think anything I could have said tonight would have made a difference.”

  “You know, I always thought Ham would be the one to leave.”

  “As did I. But Ham’s problem has always been one of attitude, stemming from a lack of faith and maturity. Japheth is driven by much deeper values. He was really hurt by the loss, as he sees it, of his grandfather. And it’s been festering now for fifty years.”

  “There’s nothing we can do but encourage him. Now please, try to get some sleep.”

  His answer was to kiss her on the cheek. Sleep would be difficult to come by this night. He had only confided to her half the reason he was grateful she’d confronted their firstborn. The other was he would have felt like a hypocrite trying to talk him out of something he’d thought about doing himself a hundred times.

  He missed his father terribly. Japheth’s rebellion tonight only served as a reminder, one that would keep Noah awake until dawn.

  Chapter 45

  In the 580th year of Noah . . .

  From within a deep sleep, Shechem dreamed someone was banging on his front door and calling his name, “Commander! Commander!” His wife shook him. The pounding was real. Malluch again, he thought, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. But when he opened the front door, one of his captains met him. “Sorry to wake you, Commander. But there’s fire in the high places outside the city.”

  “I want three hundred men assembled in the courtyard ready to leave in 270 parts.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Shechem dressed and rushed to the garrison. Two fires burned to the northwest. The first illuminated the hill where Eden’s first god had been restored, and the second, the location of one of several incense altars. Fire and smoke rose to light up the night, two flaming eyes staring at him from the distance.

  He ordered his troops not to focus on the fires, but to keep watch for signs of movement leading away from the sites. He made arrangements for extra soldiers to cover both gates, and assigned another hundred to ride the perimeter. If whoever did this returned to Eden, he wanted his men waiting for them.

  “Commander,” one of his men said. “Look.” Forty furlongs to the east, another small fire burned along the same elevation that hadn’t been there a few parts before. Even in the dark, Shechem recognized it as a probable location of another of Eden’s gods.

  He addressed the captain he’d assigned to lead half the company. “Take half your men and send them to where the two fires are burning, and divide the rest to cover the three remaining hills along the western ridge.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “The rest of us will head north, then east before turning south along the eastern range to try to head them off.”

  “There’s another one,” another soldier said. A second fire ignited along the eastern ridge north of the first.

  “Better move.”

  Shechem ordered his men to extinguish their torches, even though it would slow their pace. The night’s quarter moon provided barely enough light to see the edges of the road, but it was the only way for them to avoid detection. His plan was to head to the worship site two hills ahead of the last one being burned and wait.

  When they arrived, he found a hill that’d been only partially cleared. Near the top stood a large wooden ox. This contrasted with most of the other barren locations and afforded him a perfect location to secrete a portion of his troops. He positioned twenty of them in the woods just back from the tree line and hid the rest at the bottom of the far side of the hill.

  A short time later, another fire to their south became visible, boosting his confidence in his strategy. He addressed soldiers to either side of him. “They’ll be here soon. Keep quiet and wait for my signal.”

  Three hundred sixty parts passed when the sound of approaching horses alerted him. Too far away to see, he and his men listened whi
le the tramping herd came to a stop, then moved about on the road below. Based on their movements and the murmur of voices, he guessed four or five riders.

  Then silence before the horses galloped away in the direction they’d come.

  He gave the signal, leading his men from the woods, down the hill, and onto the road in pursuit. They were joined by the others rounding the hill. As they crested the southern rise, he expected to catch a glimpse of the vandals fleeing in the distance. Instead, an empty road stretched before them to the darkened horizon.

  But their disappearance only fueled Shechem’s desire to pursue them. Forty years earlier, he’d been so fixated on solving the murders, he had little time to devote to tracking the defilers of Eden’s first god. Failure hung around his neck with the weight of an ox’s yoke. Capturing these blasphemers would go a long way toward lifting the burden.

  He drove his cavalry hard over the horizon, ignoring the danger of a full speed chase in the dark over uneven terrain. After several furlongs, they entered a series of winding turns through the foothills that added another element of danger to the hunt.

  Rounding a sharp curve, he heard the cries of men behind him. He glanced over his right shoulder to see two horses and their riders fall near the road’s edge, the second tripping over the first. “Two abreast!” he shouted.

  The soldiers continued through the foothills until they came onto a long, straight stretch of road. Faint moonlight indicated four men on horseback crossing over a knoll. They were still at least two furlongs ahead of the pursuers.

  “There they are!” He pointed and slapped the reins against his horse’s neck. The animal’s breathing had grown deep and rapid, with droplets of sweat from its nape spraying his hands and forearms. Behind him, the hooves of more than a hundred horses beat on the road like thunder moving across the plain.

  Nearing the city, his excitement grew. The men he’d stationed outside the perimeter would be waiting, and all he had to do was to keep driving the vandals toward them. His men raced around a wide turn running parallel to a deep ravine on their right. By the time they exited, the walls of Eden would lay before them. He slapped the reins again.