Minos eased up for a look.
“Down, you fool,” Olympus said, yanking Minos into cover.
A donkey brayed, and as hot hands held her, Hilda heard the familiar creak of chariot wheels.
“Do you want your father to find you like this?” Minos whispered into her ear.
“We should kill her,” Thebes said. “For Beor will kill us if he finds us now.”
Terror blossomed in Hilda’s belly. And she loathed the grimy hands on her bare flesh. “Oh, Jehovah,” she prayed, “give me courage. Help me think.”
“Hilda!” Beor shouted. “Where are you?”
Her father must be by the boulder. Minos had become pale. Thebes trembled.
“That was her voice before,” a Scout said. “I’d swear it.”
“I know it was,” Beor said.
Hilda didn’t want to die or be raped. So she bit Minos’s hand, tasting blood. Minos howled in surprise and tried to shake her off, and he knocked against Thebes. The hot hands lost their grip.
“Daddy!” Hilda screamed, launching out of the grass.
Beor’s eyes widened in shock and then into black rage.
Olympus, Thebes and Minos sprinted for the forest.
The chariot-driver flicked the reins. The donkeys leapt forward. And Beor, as befitted a master hunter, snatched a javelin from the chariot case. The javelin flashed past Hilda, and she heard a scream as Minos fell to the ground with a javelin through his thigh.
21.
Beor and the Scouts took the wounded Minos and a captured Olympus to Lord Japheth.
“I’ve come to you for fair judgment,” Beor said, and he explained how he had turned back from his trip to Shem, deciding the punishment for Hilda had been too harsh. He said that he thanked Jehovah for his merciful heart regarding his precious daughter.
Japheth retired to deliberate, even as anger filled his sons and grandsons in attendance.
“What should I do?” Japheth asked.
Europa wore a long gown, with her blonde hair in braids and wound upon her head like a crown. She held a paintbrush and stood before a smooth piece of wood, with pigments of green, red and white in small clay cups.
“If I give Beor justice, I might alienate Javan,” Japheth said, brooding. “But if I do nothing, Beor will become even more enraged. He might return to Canaan, and Canaan might go to Kush and raise a host.”
“Over one girl?” Europa asked.
“Over an insult to a Hamite. You know how they are.”
“Yes,” Europa said. “Try as I have, my sons think less like kings than Rahab’s children. It’s very frustrating. Ham’s children are warriors. This curse on Canaan…” She shook her head. “I don’t see its evidence. In fact, this one-legged Beor is more than a match for any of our sons. You would do well to retain his allegiance.”
“At the risk of alienating Javan?” Japheth asked.
Europa became thoughtful. “Injustice drives men to rage. What happened to Hilda was despicable. I do not condone it. So give Beor justice. Show the world that we know how to uphold what is right.”
Japheth returned to his sons and grandsons, giving Beor the verdict. They marched to Javan Village. There, in the biggest lodge, and before the assembled clan, Japheth fined Minos, Olympus and Thebes for their wicked deed.
Their grandfather Javan protested, demanding justice for Minos’s wounding.
“No,” Japheth said. “Minos deserves worse. He can thank Beor’s temperance that he’s still alive. Beor had every right to slay him.”
“Will you side with them over us?” Javan cried.
Japheth looked troubled. “Right must triumph over blood.”
“It wouldn’t be so in Babel,” Javan said.
“This is not Babel,” the Patriarch said. “This is Japheth Land. Your grandsons must pay the fine.”
“And if they don’t?” Javan asked.
Japheth swept his hand to the armed sons and grandsons behind him, those from other villages. “I have brought men to enforce the judgment, which, if it must be gained by arms, will be doubled.”
Javan brooded as torchlight played off the high wooden rafters. “This will cost you, Father. So I urge you to reconsider.”
“As Heaven is my witness,” Japheth said angrily, “my judgment stands.”
Weeks later, Javan and his entire clan uprooted and began the trek to Babel. “One way or another, I’ll be revenged upon Beor and show my father that my word rings as true as the purest bronze,” Javan said. “And lest anyone forget, Semiramis is my granddaughter. We will be welcomed in Babel.”
Lord Japheth pondered the meaning of this: that one after another, his sons and grandsons headed to Babel. So, at Europa’s urging, he called Beor. “You must convince your father and brothers to move from the Zagros Mountains and to us, for strength lies in numbers.”
“It’s a long journey,” Beor said. “And there are certain stigmas concerning moving here.”
“If you mean Noah’s curse, then know that I never have nor ever will enslave Canaan or any of his children. That is my word and my writ. I hope by my latest judgment to have convinced you that my word is both honest and good.”
Beor nodded gravely, saying, “I’ll do what I can.”
22.
In that roundabout way of trade, traders and gossip, Kush and Deborah learned about Japheth’s plan concerning Canaan.
“He seeks to rob of us of laborers,” Kush growled to his wife. They were in the inner sanctum, rolling special bones under flickering lamplight. “Japheth wants to keep the sons of Ham divided.”
“So it seems,” Deborah said.
“We must compel Canaan to move to Babel,” Kush said. “We must end this breach.”
“We’ve tried several times,” Deborah said. “Canaan still smarts from Nimrod and feels for his son, Beor. Clearly, his feelings in this matter run deeper than we suspected.”
“I don’t want excuses,” Kush said. “I need plans. Give me plans.”
Deborah stood motionless as Kush rattled three shiny bones in his palm.
“How can I win the people over to the idea of building a tower if they’re exhausted from back-breaking labor on the canals and from working in the fields?” Kush asked. “As it is, I don’t dare mention building a tower. Yet if I wait, Bel might use another to reveal his wish.”
“Do you mean Nimrod?”
Kush set the marked bones on a special shelf. “We need more hands, more laborers. As a bare minimum before we proceed, we must have Canaan.”
“Perhaps we should send Ham back to the Zagros Settlement,” Deborah said. “He had good luck with Ashkenaz. Let him convince Canaan to visit Babel. Then you must take Canaan into your deepest confidence. You must unveil our plan.”
“He might not be ready for that.”
“Of all your brothers, I think Canaan the likeliest to be ready. And as you say, the angel grows restless.”
Kush scowled. “We must also expand the Hunters.”
“Perhaps,” Deborah said. “But I urge caution in that regard.”
“Caution?”
“Our son is crafty as well as fearless. If he leads too mighty a band, the day might come when he challenges your rule.”
Kush laughed grimly. “The Hunters must be expanded. For soon…” He wrapped thick fingers around a stone and smashed his fist against his palm. “Japheth and Gomer must learn what it is to be our slaves.”
23.
After the worst of the Euphrates’s flooding was over, Ham journeyed to the Zagros Mountains. He learned that Beor had told glowing reports of Japheth Land, that Japheth rejected the hated curse and welcomed Canaan and his clan, urging them to join him in the north. Ham pointed out no one had ever nullified a curse of Jehovah’s.
“If that’s true,” Canaan said, “isn’t it wiser to live with Japheth under his goodwill than to wait until the curse unfolds against me?”
“That’s a coward’s answer,” Ham said.
Canaan la
ughed, as did several of his sons. They spoke in the old two-story house. It was packed with men as Canaan sat in a throne-like wooden chair.
“First you caution me about the curse,” Canaan said, “that I don’t take it seriously enough. Then, when I tell you that I’ll adjust myself to it, you call me a coward, intimating that I should fight against it. You cannot have it both ways, Father.”
“Let’s for the moment forget the curse,” Ham said. “Think of the explosion of predators. Babel has sturdy brick walls and more fantastically rich land than the rest of us can cultivate. The walls mean safety from the animals. The rich soil means we won’t starve—if enough of us can keep the canals in order. And unity, unity means there won’t be wars. Canaan, Zidon: come and investigate Babel. See if I speak the truth. Don’t let bitter memories destroy an opportunity to build a civilization that will take us out of this scratch and hunt existence.”
Frowning faces absorbed his words.
“Those in Japheth Land live more meanly than we do,” Chin said. “To that I attest.”
Ham spied movement in the shadows. He grinned, saying, “Sarah! Come here.”
Chairs scraped back as men turned in surprise. No women or children were supposed to be at the meeting. It was for the clan men as they made the decision. Sarah, a nine-year-old great granddaughter, who had been watching from behind a curtain, ran to Ham. He sat her on his knee. “I love my children,” he said. “Rahab and I yearn for all of you to live near us in our growing and expanding civilization. At the very least, you must examine what we’ve done. See if we’re liars to be pitied or truth-tellers to be envied.”
Several voices shouted in approval.
“No. It’s senseless to go,” Zidon said. “I’ll never live in the same land, let alone the same city, as that scoundrel Nimrod. He’s too devious for me to feel safe. Whatever lie he needs to spout, he will. I find that frightening.”
“Then you for certain should come and watch over your father,” Ham said. “Make sure that he doesn’t make the wrong choice.”
Canaan shook his head ruefully. “More of your typical logic, Father, always twisted so you’ll get your way. I’m afraid, however, that I’m as adamant as Zidon about living near Nimrod or those who support him.”
Ham switched Sarah onto his other knee. “Aren’t the two of you even the least bit curious about what Babel looks like? And your mother asks about you all the time. You might also think of the party we would have for you and the rivers of beer that would flow.”
“Why this exercise in futility?” Canaan asked. “Here in the Zagros Settlement I have the perfect situation: Everyone vying for my favor.”
Zidon, who had been scratching his cheek, now motioned to Canaan.
“You have something to add?” Canaan asked quietly.
“Perhaps there is something to be gained in Babel,” Zidon said with a mocking grin.
“Oh?” Canaan asked.
“The pleasure of listening to them beg as we once begged them to listen,” Zidon said. “Then there is the added pleasure of telling them no, as they once told us no.”
Canaan spread his hands. “You see, Father. What’s the point of going? It will only poison an already bad situation.”
“You trade with us, do you not?” Ham asked.
“You know that we do,” Canaan said.
“A good trader knows how to drive better bargains only if he knows what his customers want, and how badly they need it. But he’ll only gain that knowledge if he sees how his customers live.”
Canaan thought that through.
Zidon languidly crossed his ankles as he slouched deeper in his chair. “Mixing business with pleasure, eh?” A sardonic grin crossed his face. “Yes, I think I might go after all. Let us see what this Babel looks like. What do you think, Father?”
“I think,” Canaan said, “that the idea has merit.”
24.
In the heat of mid-summer and a little after noon, the city of Babel looked deserted. Most people napped in the cool of their inner rooms. A low wall of sun-dried bricks surrounded squat flat-roofed houses. Palm trees stood lonely guard throughout the small city, while dogs panted as they lay in the doorways. The broad Euphrates flowed serenely past Babel, several reed boats working the far shore as fishermen tossed their nets. Like veins from the main artery of the river, straight canals in a grid pattern flowed between lush fields of wheat, barley, sesame and orchards of young fig and date palms.
Then the watchman patrolling along the wall noticed chariots kicking up dust. He reached for the horn slung by a cord around his neck and put the end of it to his lips.
25.
Ham, Canaan and Zidon entered Babel to a mass of cheering people. Maidens tossed flowers into the air and threw palm branches in the path of Canaan’s vehicle. As the chariots drew to a halt, Kush and Deborah broke from the crowd.
“Canaan, Canaan,” Deborah said, with a veil before her mouth. “Oh, it has been much too long.” She embraced him, and Kush gave his brother a bear hug.
People cheered and clapped.
Then the prettiest maidens mobbed Zidon, Chin and Heth’s sons, handing them cups of beer and brushing dirt from their coats. One girl hugged the handsomest of the sons of Heth, kissing him. People laughed and clapped anew, chanting, “Canaan! Canaan! Canaan!”
Canaan leaned near Zidon, saying, “I hadn’t expected this.”
Zidon shook his head. “Keep your wits about you, Father. Remember why we came.”
That evening, everyone feasted well with tables set in the streets. Lamb and steaming bread, beer and palm wine, dates and figs and fish from the Euphrates filled everyone to bursting. Canaan spoke with almost everyone, passing from man to woman, shaking hands and kissing cheeks. He commented on Babel’s bounty and that Shinar indeed was the land of plenty. More guarded, Zidon still ate heartily and drank too much wine. The sons of Heth had never enjoyed themselves more. Each of them was surrounded by adoring maidens.
Afterward, people danced to harps and cymbals. More wine and beer flowed. The sun went down and men lit lanterns. Swirling dresses flashed. People laughed, cheered, clapped and embraced.
“It was never like this when we lived near Ararat,” Canaan shouted to his father.
Ham swayed, with glassy eyes and a pot of beer cradled in his hands. He sipped through a bamboo straw.
“Noah would have had a stroke seeing people having so much fun,” Canaan said.
Ham nodded sagely, before glowering, finding his beer-pot empty. He staggered off to find more beer.
“Mother!” Canaan shouted.
Rahab wore a shawl and stood by her son. On the street, the dancers swirled, clapped, laughed and embraced, including Gilgamesh and Opis. Meanwhile, Uruk glowered in the shadows.
“They’re living to the fullest,” Canaan said. “You should, too, Mother.”
“Eat, drink and be merry?” Rahab asked.
“Oh, Mother, you haven’t changed a bit.”
“But you have,” she said. “Why aren’t you dancing? You aren’t that old yet to act like a patriarch.”
The bits of gray in Canaan’s hair were the only indication of his sixty-five years of age. It gave his handsome features a touch of ruggedness. “Too much weighs upon me to dance. Besides, Miriam would scold me for a month if she learned that I had.”
“You must join us here in Babel, Canaan. Return to your own.”
“It’s not that easy, and I have more than just myself to consider.” Canaan glanced about. “By the way, where are Nimrod and Semiramis?”
Rahab clutched his arm. “Nimrod doesn’t want to ruin your first night here. So he’s staying out of sight, and he ordered Semiramis to do likewise.”
“Their staying away is deliberate?” Canaan asked.
“Canaan. Nimrod isn’t the lad you knew. He has strength in him.”
“He’s the Mighty Hunter, they say.”
Ham swayed near with a new pot of beer in his hands. “Seems like a
silly title, I know, the Mighty Hunter. But I’ve seen what Nimrod does.” Ham nodded. “When everyone else stands frozen in an emergency, Nimrod moves, like when he drove away the leviathan. If the monster had been given a moment longer, it might have swamped our vessel and devoured each of us at its leisure. The lad is indeed unique.”
“So is Beor,” Canaan said.
“Yes,” Ham said, as he sipped beer. “So is Beor.”
26.
Ham lay in bed. A flickering candle cast shadows on the curtained walls. On the chest lay a half-finished blanket. Rahab sewed, it seemed, almost every hour of every day. But Ham sensed someone other than Rahab in his bedroom. This someone held a candle, the one annoyingly flickering in his face. Ham cracked open an eyelid. Oh, his head ached and his limbs felt leaden.
The someone shook his elbow. “Great Grandfather, wake up.”
Ham twisted his head. The candlelight glowed around a handsome face—Ramses. “What do you want?” Ham asked thickly.
“They sent me to fetch you,” Ramses said.
Ham tried to push the offending hand away.
“You’re worse than a hibernating bear,” Ramses said. “Up already.”
With Ramses dragging him out of bed, Ham pulled a comb through his beard and donned a fresh garment. Then he leaned on Ramses’s arm and limped onto the dark street outside.
A red glow streaked the horizon. Above it, stars twinkled and a chilly breeze blew.
Ham muttered as they came to the altar in the center of Babel. Smooth, chiseled stones were cunningly fitted together. The altar stood on a small mound with clay steps, and the mound was in the most spacious area in the city.
Notables stood around the sacred site. A few shivered in the predawn chill, but most had bundled themselves in woolen cloaks. Ham took his place as Kush approached in a long, red robe, with Nimrod following and leading a perfectly white bull. Kush lit a fire and poured a libation of wine onto the altar as he invoked the angel of the sun.
People of Babel (Ark Chronicles 3) Page 7
