by Brian Godawa
The crowd of humans broke into spontaneous applause. Methuselah did not. He thought about how he might track down Thamaq and Yahipan and kill them.
The noise made Anu pause. It created a nice dramatic effect. He raised his chin in the air to display a superiority of leadership that inspired confidence in his subjects. He was masterly.
He rode the crest of the wave. “But good people of this fertile crescent, we will need your faith and your fortitude to help rebuild your cities, and create temples for your gods. To seek a progressive future where everyone will give their fair share and everyone will be taken care of from crib to grave.”
More applause rang out from the people. He inspired them, refilling them with a sense of hope.
Inanna chuckled to herself. These ignorant hairy insects have no idea that their fair share is complete and total servitude to the god of the city-state. They were born to be slaves and they will be slaves — from crib to grave. Inanna and the other gods had discovered the universal economic law from time immemorial: whatever you tax you get less of, and whatever you subsidize you get more of. By heavily overtaxing wealth, she could decrease the amount of private wealth and therefore lessen its power. By subsidizing poverty with government welfare she would increase poverty and thus dependency upon the state. Human nature was such an easy thing to exploit when you understood how it operated.
“It is with a heavy heart that I must inform you that your priest-king Enmeduranki of Sippar was killed in the riots.”
Murmurs and a few cries could be heard from the crowd.
Anu had not finished yet. “We will appoint a new priest-king to establish a royal line that will administer the will of the gods.”
That will relieve us immortals from the contemptible millstone of governmental bureaucracy, mused Inanna. The gods would do as they pleased and make the mortals cover their tracks with treaties, covenants and other obfuscations.
Anu concluded his soaring inspirational speech, “So, now, my people, go back to your homes, gather your survivors, nurse your wounds, and rebuild your houses. Soon we will work together for a new world of hope and of change, freed from the suffering you have endured.”
The crowd applauded. Anu reached back and held up the hands of Inanna and Utu as their champions.
Enoch, Methuselah and Edna quietly slipped out of the back of the crowd.
Chapter 12
“Lord of the sun, Queen of heaven,” Enoch humbly offered as he bowed before Utu. The god sat on the throne of Enmeduranki. Beside him stood Inanna, left behind to finish the royal appointment process with Utu. Anu had discharged his duty of making an appearance at Sippar and was off to the other cities to repeat his rhetorical performance. Inanna lusted for the supreme power of the high god, but she certainly did not envy his responsibilities of political pandering required to maintain an awed worship from the citizens. She would prefer to smite them.
Enoch had been summoned to their presence and he waited respectfully for them to speak.
“As you now know,” said Utu, “Enmeduranki was killed in the uprising. We are required to appoint a new priest-king to take his place. Because of your wisdom and experience in the workings of the palace, we have chosen you, Utuabzu, to be the new priest-king.”
For a sun god, Inanna thought, Utu was rather dim and unimpressive. She could not wait to get out of this insignificant city and catch up with Anu to maneuver for some more influence.
“I am unworthy of your grace, my lord and lady,” said Enoch.
Inanna could not bear the pleasantries of royal etiquette. She cut in, yet again. Utu’s face took on a tight lipped expression of irritation.
“Prepare your family for a coronation tomorrow morning. We will meet in the palace courtyard beforehand to brief you on the procedures. Let us be done with this.”
“It is an honor of great magnitude, you majesty,” said Enoch.
“Move along, move along,” spit Inanna.
Enoch responded obediently, scurrying back to his residence in the palace.
• • • • •
“This night?” asked Methuselah. Enoch had arrived back at his quarters and was hurriedly packing bags.
“Yes, we are leaving now! Gather only what is necessary. We will meet the family down in the secret passageways and we will take the lesser desert path to the mountains of Aratta,” said Enoch.
“So, you have changed your mind. I was right, then?” said Methuselah with a touch of sarcasm.
Enoch stopped packing and turned to look at his son. “Methuselah, this is no time for laughs. The gods just appointed me to the position of priest-king. Tomorrow is the coronation, and the entire family is required to be there.”
Methuselah wiped the smile off his face. He remembered the vision his father had told him, how the archangels had said that Enoch would be offered the position of king and then executed with his family to facilitate a total regime change. He shut up and quickly gathered his things together.
• • • • •
It would not take long to mobilize the fifty or so family members in the passageway below the palace. They had stayed there since the Gigantomachy uprising, so they were ready to leave at a moment’s notice. Enoch explained everything to them.
They exited the tunnels a half mile from the city. They would make their way across the Tigris and up into the Zagros mountain territory. They had some onagers to carry the young children, women, and elderly of the tribe. They would have to test their limits with a brisk pace to get as far from the city as they could before daylight.
Enoch knew that the gods would hunt them down as soon as they discovered the family was gone. They did not stand a chance, but he had to try. He had no other choice. Stay and certainly die, or run and probably die.
When Methuselah arrived at the gathering point with Edna, Enoch frowned. Methuselah stared him in the eye and said, “Would you prefer she marry the gods?”
Enoch stubbornly refused to answer as they moved on through the passageway. His son was right. After all Edna had been through with them, he should not have even raised the question. He would apologize for that later.
They had taken only a few paces when Edna pulled Methuselah aside and spoke to him in a whisper. “You might want to talk to me before implying romantic intentions in public to your father.”
“I was referring to saving you from the Sacred Marriage.”
Edna studied his face, regathering her thoughts. Then she took the chance of vulnerability, “So did you mean what you said when we were attacked by the Rephaim?”
“We were about to die, Edna,” he complained. “I said whatever came into my mind.”
She could not believe it. This stubborn onager was too scared to admit his feelings after all they had been through. But he had left an opening and her strategic training prepared her to take it.
“So, you are saying that at the moment of facing death, your love of me came into your mind?”
Methuselah walked on silently.
What was it with men? Why could they not just say what they felt?
“Poozela, just promise me one thing,” whispered Edna. “If we ever face certain death again, please do not say you love me unless you intend to admit your love to the world should we survive that certain death. I do not think that is asking too much, do you?”
“Very well, Pedlum,” he said, “I promise. Now let us go.” They were behind the rest of the family.
Pedlum was a new nickname, adapted no doubt from Pedna into a more flowery affection. It was the tiniest hint that he was starting to break. Edna shivered with glee.
“By the way, happy birthday,” Methuselah added as an afterthought. He traipsed on.
She had forgotten. In the midst of all this terror, she had turned sixteen. It seemed inconsequential in light of the world ending and everything.
But he had remembered. He did remember.
Chapter 13
Enoch’s caravan had covered five leagues to the Tigris R
iver by morning. He had pushed them. They were running for their lives, but this was all the distance they could make with women, children, and elderly.
A small river tribe with boats lived along the banks which could easily have taken them downriver. Unfortunately, their destination did not lie downriver in the heart of Shinar. They needed to travel upriver into the mountains of Aratta.
But there were no tribespeople in sight. Had they all hidden? Were they out on a hunt?
Enoch looked back along their path. The morning light revealed a pack of Nephilim already on their trail. Some women screamed. Enoch tried to calm them. Their backs were to the river. The Nephilim were riding down upon them. They had nowhere to go.
Methuselah held Edna tightly and gripped his mace even tighter, Enoch fell to his knees and cried out to Elohim, this god he barely knew and hardly trusted. But what could he lose now? They were all going to die. And this poor innocent river tribe, when they showed themselves, would be caught in the cross blades of slaughter. They had not done anything to deserve this. None of Enoch’s clan had done anything to deserve this.
The palace Nephilim had closed the distance to an arrow’s flight, but they would use no arrows on their quarry. Nephilim preferred close quarter combat. They preferred to tear the limbs off their prey rather than pierce them dead from a distance. Close combat satisfied their bloodlust better. They were monsters, fast monsters. They did not need animals for transportation. for they ran faster without them.
Methuselah counted ten of them. Talk about overkill, he thought. One alone could kill us all.
The tribe huddled close to each other. The men stepped out with their few useless weapons in a pathetic attempt at a vain last stand. They felt the call of moral obligation to act courageously. They did not have a chance. They were all going to die.
Certain death did not matter to Methuselah and Edna. They were actually hoping that they would be able to take down one together as a badge of honor before they perished. They had done well against the Rephaim. Their victim was probably suffering a humiliating permanent limp somewhere out in the hinterlands.
Yet, even at that moment, Methuselah felt compelled to make light of circumstances to Edna. He stared out at the approaching predators, at the trail of dust rising in the air, and said under his breath, “Well, here we are again, facing certain death.”
She glared at him expectantly.
Methuselah surprised her, “This is where you admit again that you have always loved me.” He said the word always with relish. It was quite revealing when she had first said it, and now she felt like a silly little fool.
She punched his arm hard.
“Ow!” he yelped. He was the stronger vessel, but he had also taught her how to maximize her impact. He sighed and smiled softly at her. “It is true, Edna. I do love you. And if we do get out of this alive, I will declare my intentions to the world.”
Edna glanced back at the advancing Nephilim. She could now see their skin and faces. Their entire bodies were covered in occultic tattoos, displaying their new allegiance to the gods. She had not realized Nephilim could be any scarier than they already were.
“That is not fair,” she said. “You know we are really dead this time. Even so, I am praying for a miracle.”
She glanced around, looking for that miracle. She noticed two river people in cloaks come out of their tents. So there were a couple unlucky tribesmen here after all.
The two cloaked men stood in front of Enoch and his people. The lead one spoke clearly for all to hear, “Fear not! Trust in the Lord and he will deliver you!”
Enoch recognized that voice.
The two men turned toward the Nephilim. The giants were within fifty cubits of the clan and about to pounce. In unison, mysterious pair threw off their cloaks.
Gabriel and Uriel, the archangels, stood guard before the clan. They brandished the strange weapons Enoch had seen before. Uriel had two of the long blades in his hands called swords. The archangels raised their weapons and yelled, “A sword for the Lord and for Enoch!” Then they bolted into the fray of approaching giants.
The archangels cut through the Nephilim like barley. Trained and angry giants were cut down by these two mighty warriors in less time than it took for Enoch to urinate in his pants from the terror mere cubits away.
The stronger of the two, Gabriel, fought three at a time like a hungry lion. But Uriel made up for his diminished size with cunning strategy and unorthodox moves. They worked well in tandem.
Gabriel disarmed one and yelled out to Uriel, who spun around and cut him down. They swapped positions and opponents in a flash, confusing the Nephilim. But it took effort. The archangels had to work hard for their results.
Three Nephilim managed to strike Gabriel’s sword at once. It flew out of his hand. Uriel threw Gabriel one of his two swords until Gabriel could pick up his own and get back on track.
The last four Nephilim surrounded Uriel. Gabriel fought with the leader of the pack. The four monsters tightened their circle on Uriel, lashing, swinging, and jabbing their weapons. Uriel appeared to be weakening.
He had only been drawing them in closer. He stretched out his two swords like windmill blades. He spun like a whirlwind in this strange position. His shearing blades took out the circle of the enemy surrounding him. It was awe inspiring.
Not one Naphil got past these mighty warriors of Elohim.
Enoch found himself thinking that it was a good thing he had changed allegiance to this distant god of his fathers. His servants were just. And they shared the same enemy. This was good. This was very good.
The archangels walked toward Enoch.
Methuselah and Edna drew near to listen in.
The angels were exhausted. These warriors fought like gods, but they were still finite created beings with flesh. They suffered the burdens of that flesh. They were drenched in sweat and breathing hard. Nephilim were not easy to kill.
As they approached the astonished Enoch and his family, they muttered under their breath to each other. “Six kills to your four. Would you like me to teach you some tactics?” said Uriel.
“Five to five,” countered Gabriel. “That one we did together.”
“You mean the one I killed,” said Uriel.
“After I disarmed him,” retorted Gabriel.
“Was that before or after you dropped your sword?” said Uriel.
“I did not ‘drop’ my sword,” said Gabriel. “Three of them hit me at once.”
“Okay, okay, they disarmed you,” said Uriel with a grin. Then he added, “But then, if we both killed him, then that would make it five and a half to four and a half.”
They arrived at the humans, and snapped out of their bickering.
“I am famished. Let us eat something,” said Uriel.
Enoch stepped backward fearfully. Uriel paused, then laughed, “Fret not, Enoch, we are not going to eat you. Truth be told, we would not even eat those Nephilim.”
Edna scrunched her face in disgust. This archangel was rather profane. She wondered if his god Elohim had that kind of sick sense of humor.
Gabriel soothed their anxiety. “Elohim sent us to help you. We brought these boats for you to take the Tigris and Diyala rivers up into the Zagros where you can follow the rest of your trip on foot in relatively safe passage.”
Enoch protested, “But the rivers flow south. We do not know how to sail, and we do not have the strength to man the oars to get upstream.”
“Are you sure?” asked Gabriel.
“Yes, I am sure,” Enoch shot back. “Unless this Elohim of yours would like to perform another miracle and change the course of the rivers from south to north.” His sarcasm dripped a bit heavily after having just been delivered by this servant of Elohim.
Uriel raised his hand and gestured with his finger for Enoch to follow him.
Enoch trailed behind him to the bank of the river. The others of the clan shadowed them. Enoch looked out onto the river and lost his breath.
It was flowing north. The river actually flowed in the opposite direction than it had been from the beginning of time.
“It is a miracle,” exclaimed Enoch, his eyes and mouth wide open.
Gabriel smiled. “You will learn to be more grateful. It comes with experience.”
Uriel leaned in close to Enoch and murmured, “And you also need to stop allowing your mouth to gape open when you are in awe. It is unflattering.”
Enoch snapped his mouth closed.
Methuselah spoke softly into his father’s ear, “Well, we better not disappoint Elohim, father.”
“Board the boats,” Enoch said to the tribe.
“Wait a minute,” interrupted Edna.
Everyone stopped and looked at her. Enoch thought the little pipsqueak was bold. She stared straight at Methuselah with her teasing eyes. It made him wary. She normally pulled that expression on him when she occasionally beat him in a game or prank.
She proudly proclaimed, “Methuselah has a promise to fulfill.”
He sighed. Then a big fat grin burst across his face, and he yelled out to the entire tribe, “Edna has always loved me!”
She opened her mouth in shock and slapped him. “I cannot believe you, Methuselah ben Enoch!”
Methuselah stopped laughing. He looked right into the eyes of his precious Pedlums and laughter turned to love. “Edna bar Azrial, I want all the world to know that I love you more than life, more than the heavens and the earth!”
Everyone moaned with romantic longing.
Methuselah was not done. “And if this Elohim does not drown us in the river, freeze us in the mountains or burn us in volcanic ash on our trip to Sahandria, will you marry me?”
She squealed, jumped into his arms, and gave his big fat grin his first big fat kiss. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!” she rattled off, smothering him with kisses. He heartily returned then.
