Noah Primeval (Chronicles of the Nephilim)

by Brian Godawa

  “Abominations!” Japheth yelled.

  Noah gave a sad smile of approval, because it was time for his sons to shed their innocence. They were too young. But he had no choice. It was forced upon them.

  The boys noticed the red linen and copper bracelet in Noah’s hand. Too late, Noah tried to hide it. They all knew, and none of them could speak. They merely embraced one another and wept again for a loss greater than words.

  Young Japheth alone softly whimpered his pain into Noah’s breast, “Momma.”

  Methuselah stepped up to them.

  “Father and mother?” asked Noah.

  “Gone,” said Methuselah. “But they left this earth protecting your little ones.”

  “Grandfather,” said Noah. It was like a plea for salvation.

  Methuselah would have none of it. “Fortunately, the soldiers do not suspect the elderly, which is why they did not bother to burn me when they thought me dead. I killed a dozen of the jackals before I was knocked senseless—by a camel no less!”

  For the first time since his captivity, Noah laughed heartily. “You are full of surprises, old man.” They hugged desperately, an unspoken recognition between them of their great loss.

  Suddenly, Noah sensed a presence. He pulled his sons behind him and drew his axe from his belt. Methuselah joined him with a mace. A figure stepped out from the bush.

  It was Uriel.

  Noah dropped his readiness. Methuselah wondered what the Sheol was going on.

  Noah snapped, with a tone of disdain, “How did you get here?”

  “I rode a camel,” Uriel replied. “What did you expect, I had wings?”

  Noah kept trained on Uriel. “I thought I released you.”

  Uriel laughed. “If only you could. I told you, you do not get off that easily.”

  “Well, I’ll be an onager’s uncle,” said Methuselah. “Uriel, you old hyena.”

  Uriel retorted, “Look who’s talking, you ancient relic. Sometimes, I think you will outlast me.”

  Confusion hit Noah “You know him?” he asked his grandfather.

  Methuselah embraced Uriel. “Where have you been? It has been so many years since I last saw you, I was beginning to wonder if Elohim was pulling our tails.”

  Uriel laughed.

  Noah said, “I want an explanation right now.”

  Methuselah said, “This is Uriel, your guardian angel.”

  “That much, I have gathered,” said Noah.

  Methuselah continued, “Uriel protected your father before you were born. He was there at your birth.”

  “I guess you were right, grandfather,” said Noah. “I am so hardheaded that Elohim will not bother to speak directly to me. He prefers to use writing on tablets that do not make sense, dreams of old men that do not tell me things, and angels I cannot endure.”

  “Actually, I am an archangel,” Uriel offered.

  Noah and Methuselah knew the archangels were the mightiest of Elohim’s warriors, on the level of the divine council. But they had never realized just how mighty.

  “Well, I guess that explains your ability to kill so expertly, and with such speed and elegance,” remarked Noah, mining the moment for further irony. He turned on Methuselah. “Grandfather, you do not tell me enough for an elder.”

  “Noah, you do not listen enough for a Patriarch,” said Methuselah. “Besides, I am old, I forget a lot.”

  Uriel laughed again. “I guess it runs in the family, does it not?”

  The two men could not deny that.

  Methuselah knew exactly what all this banter really meant. The time was fast approaching. God had sent this guardian to finalize Noah’s calling. The old man did not know how many archangels it would take to bend this stubborn onager’s will, but he suspected one was not enough.

  They had spent some time putting together a proper shelter for the children. Uriel caught some fowl, and their bellies were full. Methuselah took the fifty children aside, and explained to them that they were going to be taken to a small tribe he knew on the eastern plains near the Tigris. That tribe would then take them to a special hidden valley in the Zagros Mountains to start anew. Methuselah had discovered the valley many years before in his adventures with Lamech. Noah and Methuselah would meet the children there after the men took care of some business that needed attending.

  It was the hardest thing in his life for Noah to do, letting his sons out of his sight after losing them once. It went against every grain of his being. But a deeper grain inside him pushed out everything else.

  Revenge.

  The children slept and the men sat around the fire strategizing. Methuselah spoke up, “You must not do this, Noah. You would be a fool to assault Anu on his own ground. He is guarded by a host of Nephilim in the center of the city.” He knew the Nephilim were offspring of the Watchers, bred as killing machines. They did not die easily. He had taught Noah that much. Methuselah had seen their horrible power when the Watchers first came down from heaven.

  Uriel added, “Even an archangel is no match for a horde of Nephilim.”

  Noah looked at him surprised.

  “We are not invincible,” explained Uriel.

  Noah played with the blackened copper bracelet he had found in the fire. He stretched it wider, as he spoke. “I will fight Anu on my ground.”

  Uriel shook his head, incredulous. “With what army? The entire land worships the gods. The only human tribes of any significance are scattered to the four corners in windy mountains, death dry deserts, and deep forests. And they are not likely to join you in certain death to avenge your personal loss.”

  Methuselah sighed. He had been right. It would take more than one archangel to rein in this wild ass.

  “Then I will go to the one place where humans have lost all hope in the gods,” Noah proposed. The others looked at him, wondering where that would be.

  “Where they were taking me,” he explained.

  “The slave mines? You want to start an uprising in the slave mines?” Methuselah did not bother to hide his shock. Had Noah gone mad with feverish revenge?

  Uriel put it into perspective. “How do you plan to assault a garrison of soldiers and guards as one lone man?”

  Noah looked at him with an impish grin. “I am not one lone man. I have a guardian angel—pardon me, archangel.” He mimicked Uriel’s previous accent.

  Uriel sighed and sat back with a moan.

  Noah finished widening the copper bracelet enough to fit it on his own wrist.

  Methuselah found his grandson’s plan appealing. “And you have the oldest man on earth,” he chuckled.

  Noah lifted up his wrist brace with a fist. His macabre humor in the face of impossible odds brought the point home, “That triples my odds.”

  Uriel did not find this funny.

  A faint sound started them. The men turned to see Shem and Japheth standing behind them. How much had they heard?

  Shem raised Lamech’s strange weapon, Rahab, now in its leather case. Japheth carried Betenos’ bow. “Grandfather and grandmother told us you would teach us how to use their weapons when it was time,” Shem said. “Is it time, father?”

  Pride and pity welled up within Noah. “Not yet, Shem, but soon.” He had to pause to suppress his emotion. “Carry those with you to the Hidden Valley and when I meet you, it will be time. Now, back to bed.”

  The two boys trudged back to their tent.

  Noah turned back to the others. “We leave in the morning.”

  Chapter 7

  Deep behind the palace walls of the Eanna district harem quarters, twenty women of Noah’s tribe tentatively adjusted to unfamiliar surroundings. Some of them had been saved from the attack on the camp to be prepared for the gods. They were scrubbed clean in beautiful pools, and clothed in fine linen and exotic fabrics. But they did not exactly fit in. The expensive garments looked and felt unnatural.

  Shazira, a young beauty, made her way over to a fountain to comfort Emzara. Noah’s wife sat, softly cryi
ng into her reflection in the pool. The lead officer had noticed Emzara before her assailant could violate her, and had stopped the deed.

  “Why are they treating us like royalty?” Shazira asked her.

  Emzara looked up at her. The poor girl was too young and naïve to know the evil that was about to extinguish her innocence and dignity. Should Emzara tell her and fill her with additional terror that would only add to her misery? Or should she not tell her, thereby increasing the depth of the young girl’s painful suffering when awakened by reality? Either way, she lost.

  “They are preparing us,” Emzara answered.

  “For what, Emzara?” Shazira’s doe-like eyes wide, her lashes fluttering “Are we to become servants of Anu?”

  “You could say that,” said Emzara darkly.

  She could not do it. She could not bring herself to be party to the breaking of this sweet girl’s spirit earlier than need be. One more hour of purity and innocence was a lifetime to her now.

  Shazira might have launched more questions, but Emzara was spared the pain of outright lies by the sound of clacking rods. Someone was arriving. Everyone’s attention focused on the doorway.

  Lugalanu stood there with his Palace Guards. “Follow me, ladies.”

  The women stumbled in single file along the dark, cold tunnel connecting palace and ziggurat. They were told to be quiet on their journey and they obeyed. Because of the dark, Emzara stumbled and bumped into one of the guards. He kept her from falling and she returned on her course.

  The tunnel soon led up into the ziggurat, up to the very top chamber, the White Temple with its lime-painted walls.

  At the top of the climb, guards ushered them into a special room lined with ten stone altars. They were strange looking constructions that looked like reclining seats with extended leg mounts spread apart.

  Emzara felt sick to her stomach at the sight of them.

  The women lined up facing the stone chairs, two per chair. They whispered amongst themselves.

  Lugalanu shushed them with a strong clicking of his tongue.

  Emzara stared at the ground, hoping to block the truth of her situation from her own sight. The tongue clicking stopped and a long silence followed. Emzara finally glanced up.

  Lugalanu stared at her, unmoving as though in a trance. It made her feel uncomfortable. But rather than shift her eyes away, she locked onto his gaze, defiant and unyielding.

  Lugalanu snapped out of his trance and marched down the line of women, proclaiming, “You are blessed to be in this holy chamber. You have been chosen by Anu for sacred marriage.”

  Shazira gasped. Her fate started to dawn on her. She whispered, “Emzara?”

  “SILENCE!” shouted Lugalanu. “You will be respectful in this kingdom. You are no longer wild beasts of the desert. You are now sacred wives of the mighty god Anu, and you will obey him.”

  Emzara saw Shazira tremble. She was so frail. Emzara knew the poor girl would not survive this atrocity.

  Lugalanu continued, “Before each of you is an altar upon which you will consummate a sacred marriage rite with Anu. As such, you will have the honor of bearing Nephilim, the seed of the gods.”

  Emzara held back her horror. From the dawn of time, depraved men had sought to enslave women in order to indulge their nature with imaginative excess. But to be violated by these monstrosities was an evil so deep she could not square it with her faith in Elohim. She had lost her complete family not once, but twice in this life. That was more than most could experience and still maintain a semblance of sanity, let alone faith. But to become host for a parasitic abomination? For what purpose could Elohim allow such torture and suffering? What could he hope to accomplish? Or had the wickedness grown to such an extent that it was out of Elohim’s control?

  It was too much for Emzara to comprehend. All she could do was cling to her faith in spite of what was happening to her. But she found the handle of her secreted dagger just the same. It was the dagger she had slipped from the guard she bumped into in the tunnel.

  Maybe she was created for such a time as this.

  Emzara became aware of Lugalanu stealing glances at her, as if he could not keep his eyes off her. Maybe she could slit his throat as well.

  His next announcement broke the nervous silence. “And now, kneel before your master the Almighty Anu, and his consort, Inanna, Queen of Heaven.”

  Most of the women hesitated, unused to such orders.

  “KNEEL!” Lugalanu barked.

  They dutifully obeyed. Emzara was the last to do so. She stole another glance at Shazira, who sniffled and held back a flood of tears. They locked eyes and Emzara sought to transport her thoughts to the girl, You can be strong, Shazira. Be strong.

  Shazira straightened up, as if she had heard those thoughts. When Emzara glanced back to the entrance, she saw the towering forms of Anu and Inanna coming her way.

  Lugalanu commanded the women to rise and they did. Anu and Inanna strode down the line in their regal attire, taking a moment to inspect each woman. Inanna struck Emzara as brazenly vulgar in her gem-laden glittering outfit and bright pink wig of a voluminous mountain of hair. She looked to Emzara as if a man had made himself up as a woman. She looked away from the sight and caught the priest-king still watching her with interest. When she glanced back, Anu and Inanna were examining Shazira. She could hear them in counsel.

  “You are young,” said Anu to the frightened Shazira. “I shall have great pleasure with you.”

  Inanna appeared jealous of Anu’s attention to the females before him. “Do not play with her too hard. You might rip her open. We need her womb, do not forget.”

  “Yes, yes, of course,” he replied. Then they stepped over to Emzara.

  A chill ran through Emzara as she felt the gods’ reptilian eyes on her. Anu leaned in and sniffed her. Emzara’s blood ran cold. She saw Inanna snarl. Emzara’s hand positioned closer to the handle of her secret dagger, considering her chances.

  Anu pulled back with a look of surprise. “Lugalanu!” he called.

  Lugalanu came running, “Yes, my Lord and god.”

  “This one is already with child,” Anu hissed.

  Inanna broke in, impatiently, “Get rid of her, now!” she barked, “and be more circumspect in your choices next time.”

  “Yes, your highness,” Lugalanu groveled. He barked a command and a soldier grabbed Emzara’s arm. As he and Lugalanu pulled her away, she could hear Inanna’s comment, “Disgusting.”

  When the three of them were out of earshot, Lugalanu whispered to the soldier, “Place her in my private chamber.” Emzara realized her troubles were not yet over.

  But she still might slit his throat.

  The soldier half pushed, half dragged Emzara through a maze of passages, back to the palace. He finally shoved her through a door and into a chamber. He stayed outside the door, guarding her. Escape was out of the question. She decided to look around to find a weapon or another way out.

  It was a grand regal bedchamber. Large marble columns checkered the room. Exotic tapestries from the Indus valley hung on the walls. They depicted erotic art from the East, men and women engaged in every form of sexual behavior imaginable, with their blue deities watching, and sometimes participating.

  A large circular bed dominated the center of the room, the extravagant mattress covered with glistening sheets of a fabric she had never seen before. The cloth felt silky smooth to her touch. The decadence repulsed her. Not the wealth itself or the beauty it could buy, but rather the perverse purposes for which such mammon and beauty were engaged. Elohim created beauty, and mankind turned beauty into an ugly god.

  She turned around lost in thought. Lugalanu’s silent presence shocked her. He stood watching her from the shadow of a pillar. She stepped back.

  “What is your name, nomad?” he asked.

  “Emzara, my lord, wife of Noah ben Lamech,” she responded respectfully.

  He struggled to hide his surprise from her. She had no idea that th
e man before her just sent her husband to the slave mines to be forgotten by God himself. On the other hand, if that husband was the Chosen Seed, this woman before him was a treasure of inestimable value. At first, Lugalanu’s interest in her had been tender, even altruistic. Her mature queen-like beauty and composure entranced him. It was why he could not take his eyes off her in the temple room. It was why his heart had leapt with hope when the gods placed her into his hands. But now, the discovery that she was the very consort of the Chosen Seed himself carried political and historical weight of which he could only dream.

  He stepped closer. She cringed.

  “Fear not, Emzara,” he assured her, “I will not hurt you. You please me.”

  She could feel his eyes all over her. They were hungry eyes. But they were not the same as the god Anu’s. They had a tenderness that surprised her.

  “Does this please you?” he gestured around the room. He could see she was shy about it all. “You may speak your mind.”

  Emzara had nothing to lose. “My lord, how could I have pleasure in the kingdom that killed my husband and family, and destroyed my people?”

  Excellent, he thought, she thinks he is dead. That increased his chances. Of course, his responsibility in killing those most dear to her would certainly decrease his chances with equal weight, if she knew.

  “But I saved you,” he murmured. It was feeble. But it was only his starting point.

  “Perhaps you should not have,” she said.

  “I am sorry for your loss,” he said. “The rule of the gods is not always equitable to their subjects. If you must know, I argued vociferously against it. Nevertheless, we subjects must obey the commands of our superiors, even if we disagree with them. Surely, you respect authority.”

  She replied, “Integrity sometimes requires defying authority.” She thought of her dead husband now, and how proud she was to have been his wife. How wrong she had been to think that he was stubborn. She understood now the value of integrity that her own stubborn will had refused to see.