by Brian Godawa
How would they take care of the refuse of all these animals filling up the box? Their excrement alone would pile up within days and create toxic fumes that could kill all the life on board. Tubal-cain and Jubal created a way to use the waste to their advantage. They built a large, closed-off holding tank at the stern of the boat that rose through all three floors. They had discovered that the gases released by the rotting defecation were flammable. So they created a piping system from the refuse tank throughout the craft. Small holes in the pipes allowed them to light the releasing gas. This created a perpetual light source for as long as the animals defecated, which would be as long as Elohim had them on the boat.
What caused Noah the most consternation was the change in the heavens. The earthquakes shook the pillars of the earth and went wide enough to even rattle the pillars of the firmament. The sky changed colors. Even the sun would turn blood red as it set in the gates of the West. Noah noticed an increase of storm clouds on the horizon, distant thunder portending a coming apocalypse. But this was not a time to brood. They finally finished the construction of the box and filled it with the animals.
It was a time to celebrate.
Chapter 24
Ham slipped quietly through the underground tunnel between the two temples. This was not the tunnel for temple staff. It was one of the secret passageways known only to him and few others. He was on a covert mission. The tunnel soon joined a passageway into the temple hallways near Lugalanu’s private staff quarters. He looked both ways. It was clear. He scurried up to a locked door and softly rapped on the wood with a deliberate coded knock. A young maidservant opened the door and let him in.
Ham’s words were immediate and frustrated, “Mother, please.”
Inside, Emzara stood with three fugitive slaves, each carrying small bundles for travel. They saw Ham and withdrew in fear.
“Now, see, my son, you have frightened them. It is all right, children. Ham will not betray you.”
Ham snapped testily, “Do not be too sure of yourself. Three fugitives at once? Must you tempt fate so?”
“These three are images of God and they have names. Ham, meet Rami, Biran and Hannah.”
The first two were young men. Hannah was pregnant. The three bowed before Ham, who gave Emzara an angry look.
“My given temple name is Canaanu, mother.”
“Oh, do not fret yourself,” said Emzara. “It is not a sin for them to know the true identity of their liberators, the house of Noah ben Lamech.” They knew Ham was the holy sanga, the administrative priest just under the ensi high priest. Ham had received the promotion earlier and was being groomed to become the ensi under Lugalanu.
Ham nodded awkwardly. He did not hate them, but he was not used to treating servants as special human beings in God’s image as his mother did. In his understanding, slaves were but shadows of men who were in the image of kings, and only kings were in the image of the gods. But that was an ongoing dispute he had with his mother and it was not going to be settled any time soon.
“Mother, every time I visit you in secret, I endanger my temple status. But you increase my peril when you smuggle out servants like this. You know what the penalty is.”
Emzara knew. The penalty was death, quick and sure, without legal proceedings. She remembered Alittum’s horrible demise, but thought it was worth the rescue of the innocent.
“I am helping them to freedom and new life,” replied Emzara, “away from here.” Her words came bitterly. “Here” was still not in her heart and soul as it was in Ham’s.
She strode past Ham, drawing the fugitives along. At the door, she handed them each bread cakes. They wrapped the cakes and placed them in their bundles. She looked at each of them and gave them an embrace and a prayer, “May Elohim guide you and protect you to safety.”
She opened the door and checked for clear, then led them out into the hallway. Ham followed her, irritated.
“Why can you not accept your place in this world?” he whispered harshly to her.
“Because we are not of this world, you and I.”
“This world,” sputtered Ham, “has granted us riches, privilege, royalty. Would you prefer being a wandering nomad in the wilderness?”
Emzara stopped in the middle of the hallway and glared at Ham with moist eyes. She did not say a word, but he knew what she thought. Of course she would prefer to be so.
“Forgive me,” said Ham. “Your past is not my own.”
He could see she held back a torrent of emotion. “You are the son of Noah ben Lamech, son of Enoch,” she said.
“I am the adopted ward of Lugalanu, priest-king of Anu. He has raised me. He has been a father to me.”
“Your father ended in Sheol by the hand of Lugalanu.”
Emzara continued onward, as if walking away from him.
He followed after her with zeal and complaint. As much as he loved her, Ham could not understand his mother’s hardness of heart. In the world they inhabited, men killed other men in war and took their wives with every battle. The fact that Lugalanu would not force her and waited for her was nothing short of grace in Ham’s understanding.
“He has begged for your forgiveness. Sought atonement. But you have spurned him.”
Emzara’s heart had bled for her son from the day he was taken from her. She did not hold it against him. How could he know the goodness that was hidden from him? She had taught him of Elohim as best she could with the few visits she could get through the years. But what chance did she have with a system of idolatry that controlled his every waking moment from the education he received to the entertainment he imbibed? Nevertheless, she knew he was in God’s image. She knew he had a conscience. He was Ham ben Noah.
“We become the choices we make in this life, Ham. I pray you consider the choices you are making—and their consequences,” she whispered.
Ham sighed. She had that look that could penetrate his soul. It was at moments like this that he would question everything he knew. Though she was a bit crazy, she had something deep inside her that was utterly and truly real. And he wanted it. But he just could not forsake the life he had worked so hard to achieve, a life of such royal pedigree and future. And for what? A phantasm of a man who was supposed to be his father, and a god who did not show himself but only spoke to foolish prophets?
They arrived at the secret passageway and moved the stone enough for Hannah to slip through with her pregnant belly.
Before they could continue, they heard hurried footsteps down the hall. Ham reflexively pushed the stone closed as they turned to face a dozen temple guards pointing spears at the four of them.
Ham gathered his confidence and chastised the guards, “What is the meaning of this foolishness? Down with your weapons! I am the sanga priest.”
They did not put down their weapons. They jammed the blades closer to their throats and chests.
Lugalanu marched through their midst and up to the new captives. He looked disappointedly at the slaves who had already wet themselves with fear. “I was wondering where you two were,” he said with sarcasm.
“Take them…” he was interrupted in his words by Emzara’s look. He almost said “take them to the block,” the chopping block where their heads would roll from their shoulders. Instead he said, “Take them away.” Emzara’s goodness still had a way of melting him.
Three guards moved the slaves roughly away as Lugalanu led the others down the hallway to his own quarters.
It seemed like an eternity to Emzara, She wondered if they were being led to their execution. Instead, they found themselves alone in Lugalanu’s private quarters.
He turned and stared silently at both Emzara and Ham, as if they were a couple of children about to be punished with the rod. But this was far more serious. Not a rod but an axe would be their fate.
Finally, Lugalanu spoke up, “I will not report this to the gods. Neither of you will be executed.”
A shock went through both Ham and Emzara. He was sparing their l
ives?
Indeed, he was sparing their lives. Lugalanu had been waiting for this one thing. He could not have asked for a better opportunity than to catch them both in such a compromising position, placing them at his mercy. Quite frankly, he was tired of being merciful. He knew Emzara had been having secret contact with Ham throughout the years. He knew that Ham loved her and would not turn her in for her treachery of freeing slaves. But for Ham this was surely a loyalty to blood, rather than treason to the gods. Besides, revenge against Elohim’s Chosen Seed would not be complete in death, but in conversion of his seed. It had been to Lugalanu’s advantage to let them develop their secret familial love for one another.
“In seven days’ time, we will celebrate Akitu,” he said. “Canaanu will be initiated into the high priesthood. You will no longer call him Ham.” He looked with firmness at Emzara. “And you will consent to be my loyal and willing wife.”
Then it all made sense to her. In order to save Ham’s life, Emzara would without question give her own, even if it was to such humiliation and defilement. Ham would perform his duty completely, to protect his mother. Lugalanu would own them both. It would not be a true willingness of her own, but she knew it would be close enough for Lugalanu’s purposes, after all these years. Emzara’s eyes went moist with tears. What had she done?
Akitu was the New Year harvest festival that began on the first of the year in the month of Nissan. It consisted of twelve days of ritual and celebration. It was a time for the priest-king to have his scepter of power renewed by the gods, as well as time for the initiation of priests. Ham would become the ensi high priest below Lugalanu at this very festival, but one week away.
This year was going to be a special Akitu. The pantheon of gods planned to come from all the cities of the plain and meet in Erech in divine council—the seven who decreed fate. The Tablet of Destinies would be brought out and the gods would decide the fates for the coming year. They were also bringing their armies to encamp around the city, fully dressed for war. Why? Was this just for pageantry or did the gods have plans they had not yet revealed?
Another earthquake shook the temple. Dust fell on Emzara’s head from above. It seemed the very foundations of the earth were being shaken. Did these signs in the sky above and the earth beneath have something to do with this gathering?
Chapter 25
Noah’s tribe celebrated for several days with feasting and dancing. It was early evening. A fatted calf roasted on a fire spit as Noah and his men deliberated in council. Methuselah slouched beside him, along with Shem, Japheth, Tubal-cain, and Jubal.
Earlier in the day, a stranger had arrived in the Hidden Valley. He turned out to be an angel with a message for Uriel, who was finally revealing to the men the import of the dispatch.
“The judgment of Elohim is nigh,” said Uriel with a sobered look. “The archangels have mustered the last of the human tribes. They will be at the city walls of Erech by the time of the New Year Festival.”
“How many?” asked Noah. He saw Uriel hesitate.
“About two thousand strong.”
Noah closed his eyes in despair.
“Do you jest?” blurted Tubal-cain. “The armies of six gods will be assembled on the plains surrounding Erech. That would be upwards of twenty thousand soldiers of hell.”
Silence gripped them all. They were too stunned to know what to say next. But not Shem.
“We are ready for war,” said Shem with a confident voice.
Japheth picked up Noah’s sword from where it leaned against the table. He raised it high. “A sword for the Lord, and for Noah ben Lamech.”
“No,” stopped Noah. “The family of Noah will enter the tebah as Elohim has commanded.”
Shem frowned indignantly. “You would withdraw? You would have us be cowards?”
“Obedience to Elohim is not cowardice,” said Noah. He spoke with a new wisdom.
“What has changed in you, father?” asked Japheth. “You have always been a man who would die for righteousness and freedom of your soul. But now…”
“But now,” interrupted Noah, “I will live for the righteousness of Elohim and the freedom of future generations.”
Methuselah, Tubal-cain, and Jubal knew exactly what Noah was talking about, and they knew he was right. They fully understood that the most selfless, most courageous thing for Noah to do, the only courageous thing to do would be to save himself for his bloodline to survive. He was the Chosen Seed of Havah, through whom would come the King of victory over the Seed of Nachash. It must continue according to Elohim’s plan.
Noah’s sons were not so quick to wisdom. “I do not understand this,” complained Shem. “I do not understand Elohim and his plans.”
“Neither do I,” said Noah. “But I do trust him. And that is all I have in this world.”
They all could see that the leader standing before them was a different man than the one some had journeyed with to Sheol and back. None of them were the same.
The arrival of three horsemen from the tribe interrupted the discussion. They were scouts seeking intelligence on the armies assembling at Erech. One of them carried a pregnant woman on his horse. He helped her down. The scout looked somberly at Noah. “The armies of the gods are encamped outside the city walls. It is worse than we anticipated.”
Noah stared at the pregnant woman dressed in servant’s clothes and bearing the brand of Anu on her wrist. “And who is this?” he asked.
“We found her in the wilderness outside the city,” replied the scout.
Noah’s tenderness reached out to her. “What is your name, child?
“Hannah.”
“What were you doing outside the city limits?”
She was a bit fearful still. “Escaping from the temple palace.”
“By what means?”
She handed Noah the hand drawn map of the underground tunnels and the direction to the Zagros. “A woman in the temple employ.”
Methuselah jumped in, “Would that not be treason? Who could that be?”
“Nindannum,” she replied. “Chief maidservant of the priest-king Lugalanu.”
“Is this Nindannum a captured slave?” Noah knew chief stewards and maidservants were usually older.
“Yes,” Hannah said. “She often whispers of her husband killed by the high priest’s forces. Noah ben Lamech.”
Noah’s breath stopped. Sudden silence gripped the gathered men.
Noah’s knees gave out. Shem and Japheth caught him. But they almost lost their own footing as well with the shock.
“Emzara is alive?” asked Noah, as if to Elohim himself.
Hannah did not know who she was talking to, but she was excited to have a connection. “She has a son,” she blurted out.
“What is his name?” asked Noah.
“He is called Canaanu in the palace. But his mother calls him Ham.”
Noah sat down. “My wife, my son,” he said to himself. “Ham.” The word flowed affectionately from his lips.
“My baby!” screamed Hannah. She gripped her huge pregnant belly in pain, and then clutched a magic amulet around her neck. The water broke at her feet.
Hannah was taken into a house of birthing. Midwives surrounded her, attending to her needs behind a curtained area lit by candlelight. She screamed and struck out at one of the midwives, who fell to the floor from the force of the blow. But she continued to grasp her little magic amulet and mumbled a birth incantation to the moon-god. It was to no avail.
“The infant is too large,” cried one of the midwives. “We cannot deliver it.”
Hannah’s belly had been abnormally large and it appeared that her birth would be a serious danger to both mother and child.
Noah, Methuselah and Uriel stood in the room by the doorway. “Do all you can,” said Noah. “The tribe is praying.”
The midwives did the best they could to calm Hannah and make her comfortable. The outcome was in Elohim’s hands.
Uriel could tell that Noah’s thoug
hts were far away, on something else. He looked angrily at Noah. “Do not do this, Noah.”
“Emzara is my wife, Uriel.”
“It is not Elohim’s will.”
“Elohim’s will is that my family find refuge in the box. Do you suggest I go without them?”
Methuselah butted in, “You will be captured and executed.”
“Methuselah,” chided Noah, “I am surprised at you. Where is your faith?”
An inhuman scream of pain from Hannah interrupted them. The midwives backed away, staggering through the curtain.
Noah and the others could see Hannah’s body spasming violently. Then she stopped dead. Before anyone could move, they saw her belly rip open. What should have been her infant rose out of her torn body. It was twice the size of a normal infant. But it was not human. It was a Naphil. It made an unholy screech and began to feed on the corpse of its own mother.
Noah drew his sword and strode swiftly to the bed.
Behind him, Shem yelled, “Abomination!”
Noah whipped aside the remaining shred of curtain. The Naphil infant was ugly as it was evil. It had snake eyes and a hairless reddish gray skin color, holding its mother’s flesh in its six fingered hands. It screeched at Noah, baring its newborn monstrous teeth.
Noah swung his sword and cut off the creature’s hideous little head.
He turned back to Uriel with a justified expression. In measured tone, holding back a flood of righteous wrath, he declared, “I will not leave my wife and son to this wickedness.”
“We are going with you,” said Shem.
“In the name of all that is holy,” added Japheth.
For the first time since creation, Uriel had nothing to say.
Noah, Shem, and Japheth mounted their horses at the edge of the village. Uriel, Methuselah, Tubal-cain, and Jubal saw them off. Noah grasped the map that Hannah had followed out of the temple and city. The exit point was a small cave opening in a butte outside the city. “We will enter the city through the servant’s escape route.”
