Army of God

by Dennis Bailey

  Arriving at the base of the ramp, his fears dissipated at the sight of Miryam and his family rushing out to greet them. The patriarch slipped from the saddle, his heart heavy at the thought of what he was about to do. He smacked his horse on the rump, sending him running down the other side of the rise. “Wish we had room for you boy, but we’re full.”

  Once they were inside, he and his sons pulled in the planks joining the edge of the ramp to the bottom of the door. “Close it.” he said.

  Ham and Japheth pushed against the huge access door, but it was ripped from their hands, slamming tight against the door frame.

  “What was that?” Shem said. “The wind?”

  “There’s no wind in here,” Ham said.

  Chapter 62

  Shechem stood alone on the covered terrace watching shards of water pelt the house Malluch had given him. Inside, the noise of a wedding festival filled the halls of the palace, vying with the whistling of the wind for his attention. He couldn’t recall it ever having rained this hard. Could there be something to the Preacher’s prophecy?

  Footsteps approached from behind. “So this is where the commander of Eden’s army is hiding,” Malluch said. “What possessed you to come out here on such a wretched night?”

  “Just getting some air. And giving my eardrums a rest.”

  “Ah, yes. Strange isn’t it, how wine decreases men’s inhibitions, yet increases the power of their vocal chords?”

  “It is, my lord.”

  “I must admit I missed Bohar today. By now, I’m sure he would be passed out somewhere, or forcing himself on some unlucky woman. Odd as it sounds, it was his character flaws I found the most entertaining.”

  Shechem suffered no such feelings of nostalgia. He was thankful Bohar was gone. And the fact he may have ended up in the stomach of the Preacher’s lion made it all the more satisfying. “I remember.”

  Malluch stepped beside him to peer out across the terrace, the wind billowing his purple tunic. “Quite the tempest, isn’t it? Tell me, Commander, you’re not thinking about that wild threat of the Preacher’s, are you?”

  “Given the power of this storm, it’s hard not to at least think about it.”

  “I’ve seen a thousand storms like this. Tomorrow when the sun comes out, you’ll feel silly you even considered it.”

  “I hope so.”

  “You will. Now that this wedding is over, we can concentrate on recruiting a new army, destroying the Preacher and his legion of beasts, and then—” He paused as though mulling the idea over in his mind.

  “Then what, my lord?”

  “Then we return to the garden as we planned.”

  “Without an army of our own, and without Ramalech’s support?”

  “Once his army succeeds in defeating the Preacher’s, I think he’ll be more agreeable to joining us for a return to the garden. Out of gratitude alone.”

  Shechem nodded at his friend’s logic.

  “But even if he doesn’t, we’ll be going,” Malluch said.

  “What? When?”

  “One hundred twenty years, Commander. All this time I’ve waited to take my revenge. I eliminated the twenty-one traitors who abandoned my father and brother, and soon the Preacher. That leaves just the guardian to close the circle of retribution.”

  “It’s going to take time to replace our army.”

  “Which is why you must begin your recruitment effort in the morning. We must rebuild Eden’s army to at least its former strength in the event we’re forced to return to the garden alone.”

  “You think five thousand will be enough?”

  “Years ago, you said you could do it with half that. Putting aside my personal reasons, don’t forget our original purpose for going there. If we’re successful in obtaining fruit from the tree of life, no one on earth will dare oppose us—including Ramalech.”

  “When do you figure on traveling to Enoch?”

  “Tomorrow or the next day.” Malluch lifted his eyes to the falling torrent. “Just as soon as this rain lets up.”

  * * *

  Seven days later, Shechem marched into the great hall where Malluch, his wife, son, and new daughter-in-law were seated around the dining table. “Commander, I see by the grim look on your face you’re about to spoil a perfectly good meal.”

  “Forgive the intrusion, my lord, but might I have a word with you in private?”

  Everyone in the room stopped to look up at the hall’s vaulted ceiling, its acoustics magnifying the sound of the wind whistling outside. “If it’s about the rain, I’ve already heard enough whining from the guards, priests, and servants.”

  “I really think I should speak to you alone.”

  “Nonsense. This is my family.” Malluch waved his arm around the table. “Whatever you have to say to me affects them.”

  “Eden’s river is overflowing.”

  “So? It’s overflowed before during periods of hard rain.”

  “Not like this. The banks are gone and we estimate the river’s width to have more than doubled. Dozens of homes and farms built near it have been washed away by raging waters that have made it impossible to cross.”

  “Commander, this city is surrounded by a wall twenty cubits high. You mean to tell me if we barricade the south gate, it won’t provide protection against a river that’s still ten, twelve furlongs away?”

  “The walls are failing, my lord. The foundations have been weakened by the heavy rains, and the driving winds have caused sections to collapse all around the city. Even using the six hundred men I’d managed to recruit for our army hasn’t enabled us to keep up with the repair efforts.”

  Malluch examined the dazed faces of his family.

  “There’s more, my lord.” He paused and stared deeply into the governor’s eyes, hoping he would take the cue.

  Malluch stood and grabbed Shechem’s upper arm, leading him away from the table. He lowered his voice. “More?”

  “Water is pouring into the streets from the two wells dug at either end of the city. And we’ve received word from our sailors returning from the Great Sea of strange happenings there.”

  “What sort of happenings?”

  “Violent eruptions along the sea floor have opened fissures, pumping out water that churns at the surface like a bubbling cauldron. Closer to shore, they spew as fountains rising fifteen cubits in the air.”

  Malluch’s mouth fell open.

  “The tide there rose eight cubits in one day. By the third day, the seaport was completely underwater. The sailors barely made it back to shore to escape and warn us.”

  “Your opinion, Commander?”

  He knew exactly what was happening, only he dare not admit to him his belief the Preacher had been right all along. Better just to suggest a departure strategy. But before he could answer, Malluch’s son rose from the table. “I’ll give you an opinion, Father. We need to get out of here and make it to the high ground.”

  “Your son is wise,” Shechem said. “Many of our citizens have already moved to the surrounding hills.”

  “Very well, Commander. We’ll head for the northern mountains first thing in the morning.”

  “I’m afraid we don’t have that much time.”

  Malluch glanced at his family, then back to his army’s commander. “Are you saying we don’t have a day?”

  “I’m saying we may not have hours. The ground is saturated. There’s just no place for the water to go. The streets are a muddy quagmire, trapping both man and animal. We have to leave now.”

  Malluch looked again to the pleading eyes of his wife and daughter-in-law before turning back to Shechem. “Give the order for everyone in the palace to be ready to leave in two hours.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  Chapter 63

  Noah’s mind ran in half a dozen directions while he and Miryam added straw to the panther’s pen just before midday. It had only been a week, and already he worried how he was going to keep his family together—and sane. Ariel w
asn’t the only one affected by the enclosed space, the smell of confinement with thousands of animals had been more than any of them expected.

  He likened it to being in a cave, dark and damp, the window on the top deck providing the only aperture to the outside world. Lamps were kept burning throughout the vessel, which he had his sons reduce by half at dusk to simulate the passing of day into night.

  For efficiency of movement about the ark, he and his family had located their quarters on the second deck near the ship’s midsection. They shared the deck with the medium-sized animals and the cats. Below them, the largest land mammals were housed to assist in maintaining ballast. The top deck was reserved for the smaller creatures, the creeping things, and all the birds.

  Despite having been provided bedding materials inside their pen, the lions insisted on sleeping on the deck outside he and Miryam’s quarters. They’d spent their first night in the ark growling their displeasure and keeping everyone awake until Miryam let them out.

  Ariel had trouble sleeping and spent all day and sometimes half the night pacing up and down the deck’s walkways. Most of the time, Shiphrah or Elisheva walked with her. When they weren’t walking, they’d stand or sit near the window, cracking it just a bit against the wind to get a breath of fresh air.

  Outside, the wind and rain lashed against the ship’s roof and hull, instilling a sense of foreboding throughout the family. There had been a panic yesterday among the women when the ark shifted slightly in the softening earth. Noah grew concerned their fear would only increase once they began to ride upon the waters.

  He dropped an armful of straw at the sound of Shem’s voice resounding from below.

  “Father, you’d better come down here.”

  With puzzled eyes, Miryam called to Japheth at the prow before joining Noah in hurrying down to the lower deck. The two lions followed. One hundred twenty-five cubits down the walkway, Shem waved to them from outside one of the pens.

  “What is it?” Noah said.

  “Listen,” Shem said. He gestured across the pen to the inside of the hull.

  Something struck against the outside of the ark. Japheth and the other family members arrived, their footsteps silenced by Noah’s raised hand. Shem pushed against a bison partially blocking the pen entrance so his father could enter. Together the two men moved to the hull wall past the other bison lying on the floor.

  “Let us in!” a voice called, barely audible through the hull and above the din of the storm.

  “Help us,” another said. From several places along the wall on either side of Noah and Shem, the pleas were repeated by other voices, along with more pounding.

  “Japheth,” Noah said. “You and Ham check the other side.”

  Elisheva walked through the pen to her father-in-law. “Father, can’t we let them in? “Surely there’s enough room in the ark, and we have plenty of food.”

  He’d expected this question for some time. And knowing Elisheva’s character, he wasn’t surprised it came from her. “I’m sorry, but those people are a part of a world the Lord passed sentence on over a hundred years ago. We couldn’t help them now if we wanted to.”

  “Not even a few?”

  “A few? And how would you choose who to let in and who to leave behind?”

  Elisheva lowered her gaze. “It all just seems so cruel and tragic.”

  “It is. But how much more so for Him who created them. Must not the Lord’s heart be breaking to have to destroy those He made in His own image?”

  “Surrounded by people dying, it’s hard to look at it from God’s perspective.”

  “I don’t know why we have to take all these smelly animals with us,” Ariel said. She caught the male lion looking at her and quickly covered her mouth, as if trying to stop what had already come out.

  Noah resisted a smile, turning to the sound of his two sons returning.

  “Same thing on that side, Father” Japheth said. “People banging on the hull, crying to be let in.”

  A man screamed from above, the cry growing louder the closer it traveled towards them, until it was silenced by a muffled splat in the mud outside. It was followed by another which seemed to come from an area farther up toward the prow.

  “They’re on the shoring.” Japheth said.

  He nodded. “A futile gesture.”

  For a moment, the wind outside appeared to let up, making it easier to hear the pounding against the hull. Noah’s family grew silent the louder the reverberations grew.

  Ariel covered her ears. “Make them stop.” She buried her head into Shem’s chest. “Make them stop.”

  “Take her above, son,” Noah said. “Better yet, maybe we should all move to the upper decks.”

  A short time later, he and Miryam were in their quarters discussing ways to lessen the impact of the pounding when Ariel ran by outside on the walkway.

  “Ariel,” Shem said, chasing her. “Stop!”

  She dashed up the ramp to the top deck.

  Noah, Miryam, and the rest of the family gave chase. They arrived to find Ariel at the top of the stairs trying to climb out the window and Shem hanging onto her heel. “Let go of me.” She tried shaking loose, but he stepped to where he could get an arm around her waist and pulled her from the window. She fell sobbing into his arms.

  “What’s your plan for dealing with this?” Japheth said to his father.

  “Can’t we put some kind of lock on the window?” Ham said.

  Ariel’s terror had been prompted by the banging outside the hull on the lower deck, something the rising waters would soon put an end to. “Let’s make sure she stays on the upper decks. She’ll be all right once the pounding stops.”

  Chapter 64

  A thin stream of water trickled from the ceiling down a wall of Shechem’s bedroom. It had been a good house, and eighty-five years ago Malluch had spared no expense in its construction. But then it had never been subjected to a storm of this ferocity.

  Claudia waited for him in the palace while he made a final walk-through to ensure they hadn’t left anything essential behind. He smiled examining a rock in the shape of a tortoise one of his daughters had once given him. He picked up a jewel encrusted chalice his other daughter presented him on the day of his promotion to Commander of the Army. He hoped both of them now had the good sense to move to higher ground.

  He carefully placed the rock and the chalice back on the shelf of the alcove and moved into his wife’s dressing room. Not much chance of her leaving any clothes behind. He scanned the empty space. In the far corner, another trickle of water seeped down the marble from the ceiling. Only the water wasn’t pooling on the floor like in their bedroom. Shechem moved to the end of the room and squatted before the slightly less than three cubit wall to inspect the anomaly.

  The water appeared to drain through a joint where the bottom of the wall met the floor. He ran his finger along the joint, confirming by feel what his eyes were telling him, that the two surfaces weren’t permanently joined. Shehem pushed on the wall but it didn’t move. Standing, he pushed again near the right corner. Still, the wall wouldn’t budge.

  He moved to the opposite corner, this time throwing his shoulder against the wall. Hinged at the opposite end, the slab broke free, nearly sending him tumbling down a set of stone stairs leading into the darkness below.

  He grabbed one of the two torches on the wall giving light to his wife’s dressing room and started down. He descended in measured strides, the light from his torch illuminating stone walls on either side. By the sixth stair tread, he could feel the drop in temperature of being underground and caught a whiff of dankness from below. At the eighth stair he stopped and lowered his torch when his sandals splashed water. Before him stretched a flooded passageway, while at the far end the faintest shimmer of light fell from the ceiling. The distance was about 180 cubits.

  He had no way of knowing how deep the water was, but his feet already told him it was cold. He took another step, shivering as the water reach
ed the bottom of his calves. Two more treads and he reached the floor of the passageway. He raised the torch at the sound of water pouring from multiple cracks along both sides of the wall into the pool now covering his knees.

  He paused, wanting to turning back. What purpose would it serve to go on, other than to satisfy his curiosity? He felt exactly the way he had years ago when he followed his wife—wanting to catch her in the act yet secretly hoping he was wrong. Would the answer make him feel better, or worse? No, he couldn’t turn back now.

  He moved forward down the passageway.

  Two thirds of the way, a stone in the wall to the right above his head popped out, splashing in front of him. Water poured from the hole into the corridor, and Shechem realized he didn’t have much time.

  He reached an identical staircase at the opposite end and climbed toward the light above. At the top, a door stood slightly ajar. He peered through the crack.

  Inside, torch light bathed a room adorned with opulent furnishings: a bed with pillows, silken bedding, and a table with pitchers and chalices made of gold. On an opposite wall, another table, where a censer for burning incense rested.

  He waited fifty to sixty parts to make sure no one was returning before cautiously entering the room. Located at the opposite end of the chamber, another closed door. He moved to the bed in search of clues, moving pillows and turning down the bedding. He pushed his nose deep into the pillows, the faint scent of his wife’s perfume filling his senses. Near the head of the bed on the far side, he found a blue and gold scarf on the floor he recognized as Claudia’s. When he picked it up, the soft sound of voices coming from the other side of the closed door peeked his attention.

  For a brief moment, he considered fleeing, but when the voices grew no louder, he investigated further. He cracked the door, but the light of the room illuminated only the first four or five steps of an otherwise darkened staircase leading up. This time he decided not to test fate. He placed his burning torch in one of the two wine pitchers, entered the staircase, and closed the door behind him.