by Tim Chaffey
Visions of the Nodite army overrunning the city generated another wave of guilt. After wrestling with his decision throughout the day, he had thought he was at peace with it, but this new twinge of shame made him second-guess himself. For the first time, he voiced his conclusion out loud, hoping it still sounded appropriate. “The people of this city have already turned against me, but I’m not doing this to get back at them. I’m helping you battle the Havilites while hoping you’ll treat the citizens well.”
Soft footsteps pulled their attention to the front of the shed. Enil used the first lamp to light his own, and the flickering illumination made the designs burned into his high cheekbones dance. “Have the men kindle some lanterns once they’re in the tunnel. I’ll direct the rest from here.” Enil moved into the other room and spoke quietly to his men.
A long steady stream of soldiers passed Noah before descending into the hole. Their organization continued to impress him. Two hundred troopers dropped into the tunnel faster than he could have imagined.
Elam carried Rayneh into the room and Enil followed closely behind them. “Your friend and the little girl will go into the passageway, too. Once we’re safely inside the house, the three of you are free to go.”
“I’m ready.” Noah gave Elam a half smile and then climbed down the ladder.
The tunnel seemed much different than Noah remembered. Two nights earlier, he and Elam had been in such a hurry that they never really studied the results of Zain’s labors. Now that Nodites lined one side of the passage with several lit lamps, Noah saw the extent of the burrow. It was not very wide, but being so long, it still must have been a massive undertaking. How did Zain do all of this without telling anyone?
Enil and Noah advanced to the front. Enlisting the help of two soldiers, they forced the small door open. Noah entered the room and pushed the bin farther to the side. Nodite combatants poured into the room behind him.
“Let’s go find the old woman,” Enil said.
Noah grabbed a lamp and led Enil up the stairs and quietly entered the top level of the home. “Kmani?” He called her name softly as they moved through each room. He knocked on her bedroom door. “Kmani. Are you in there?” Upon hearing no response, Noah cracked the door and peeked inside. He pushed it open and scanned the room. No excess belongings were out. I hope she’s left and is safe. “She’s not here.”
Enil grabbed his arm. “How do we get to the palace?”
Noah shook his head. “There is no palace.”
The commander crossed his arms. “You know what I mean. Where will the king be staying? And what about the town council?”
Noah headed back to the front room and pointed. “This road outside goes straight to the river, and there’s another road there. Go left, and it’ll take you all the way to the bridge. That’s the easiest way and at this time of night will have the fewest people.” Noah took a deep breath. “If you make it that far, the king will likely be staying in the guest mansion on the northeast side of the main square. It’s next to the town hall, which is the tallest building in the city. You can’t miss it.”
Enil shook his head. “I didn’t think your plan would work, but you’ve lived up to your end of the bargain. You’re free to go.”
“Thank you. If the old woman returns, please be kind to her.”
“We’re under orders from the captain.” He reached into a pocket and produced a small strap with a patch sewn into it. “Here, take this. If you run into any other Nodites and they seek to detain you, just show them this and tell them that Commander Enil, son of Mehetael, has granted your freedom.”
Noah nodded and slipped the item into his pocket. He hurried back down the stairs, past dozens of soldiers in the lower level, and waited impatiently for a break in the traffic to slip into the tunnel. Hugging the right wall, Noah squeezed past the line of warriors that stretched halfway down the passage. He found Elam and Rayneh behind the last soldier. The little girl’s large round eyes looked up at him, and he wondered how much of this she understood.
“Can we go now?” Elam asked.
Noah clapped his friend’s shoulder and produced a smile. “We’re free. For now.”
Chapter 7
Iri Geshem — Noah’s 499th year
After closing the thick wooden door, Naamah leaned against the adjoining stone wall and slid her eyes shut, her long lashes resting against her cheeks and her body abuzz with all that lay before her. The sheer size of this tower and the texture of the cold stone under her palms infused her with a feeling of security and strength.
Nivlac guarded the other side of the door. Beneath him, down a small flight of steps, rows of soldiers stood at attention, waiting for the Nodite army. From this height, she could safely observe the impending battle. But is that what I want? To be in the thick of the action where every decision, every movement impacted the future of this world would be far more exhilarating. She walked to the north window and looked down at the lines of her warriors illuminated by torchlight and shuddered in excitement.
The daylight now gone, Naamah reveled in all she had accomplished since she had assumed command. As if she had done it all her life, she ruled over all matters, giving orders regarding troop operations, allocation of city resources, and potential citizen involvement in the battle — all without the king’s input. Somehow, that miserable wretch looked like he would survive the poison. If only he had finished his cup.
As they awaited the first strike, her army stood in readiness, the majority deployed on the wall as a show of force. There they would remain in readiness until the Nodites attacked or the reinforcements arrived. Tsek, majestically arrayed in his battle armor of gold-plated pieces, strategized with his officers on a wide area atop the wall not far from the tower.
She breathed deeply, slowly. The reinforcements should arrive within a day or two with enough strength to even the odds, if not the numbers — the wall itself would serve as a powerful equalizer. That is, if her scouts had reported an accurate count of the opposition’s troops and resources.
She clenched her hand into a fist. “This is it!”
The door opened. “Princess?” The lines on Nivlac’s forehead bunched up as he scoped out the tiny enclosure.
“What is it?”
“I heard you speaking and wanted to make sure no one else was in here.” He stood close to her and brushed his hand down her bare arm.
“It’s just me.” She shrugged his hand away. “I was going over the plans and must have spoken aloud.”
“Yes, Princess.” Undeterred by her coolness, he touched her cheek where her jaw met her throat, his large fingers like sand against the silk of her skin. “I also heard you mumbling last night in your sleep.”
Searching his face, she asked, “What did I say?”
He shook his head. “I couldn’t make it out.”
Naamah breathed a sigh of relief and kept her voice low but stern. “What’s tormenting my sleep is the thought of the king lying in his plush bed, regaining his strength.”
“Ashur is by his side constantly and vows he will be until the king awakens. He says that is of the utmost importance, so he handed over the investigation to some imbecile.”
She rolled her eyes. “The fool. His devotion to my father will play nicely into my plan. This can still work.” Naamah grinned, but stopped when her stomach tightened. The healer’s skill thwarted her first plan. The next attempt would have to be flawless.
Nivlac raised his eyebrows.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know. You’re the only one who does.” Her eyes narrowed. “Of course, I’m upset it didn’t work. And now I stand here, poised to lead our army into battle, but we have to wait for reinforcements. And with every passing moment our precious king regains his strength, enough to possibly take back his control.”
“He’s in no shape to lead a battle.”
“Not yet, but he was resting better when I stopped by this morning.”
“You went and saw him?” he asked.<
br />
“Of course. I’ve got to keep up appearances.”
He pursed his lips and nodded, clearly satisfied.
“I will get my chance.” She raised her fist, but not her voice. “If only he had died.”
“If only.” Nivlac bowed slightly and exited the room.
Looking up to the point where the four triangles of the tiled roof met, she whispered, “It’s not over yet, worthless king. Now that I’ve tasted full authority, I will not rest until it’s mine alone.” She licked her lips, pondering ways to kill Lamech in the battle should he take over. Each idea seemed far-fetched and too easy to be traced back to her. Now’s not the time.
She glanced out the southern window, over the city and toward the harbor. If only this were her beloved Havil instead of this dung-heap of a town. Then she would have all sorts of secret ways to kill him. She kicked at the stone flooring in frustration. Focus. Control yourself! Wait until the time is right to take him out. Just like your troops wait for the ensuing battle. To act now is to ensure defeat. Wait. Regain the king’s trust and gain the respect and loyalty of these people. Today you will sow seeds that will grow and yield all that you desire.
Delaying was best. After waiting centuries to assume control, she could be patient a little longer. Long ago her father had called her his tempest, but she had learned to control that inner storm in order to strike out at the best possible moment.
“Soon enough, the Nodites will be here. In the meantime, I need to pray.” The slit of a window opposite her let in just enough light from the torches in the street outside. “My army will be victorious because of the might of our god.”
Uncoiling the bracelet around her arm, she repositioned the golden object on the narrow window ledge, rewinding the thick links that made up the snake’s body. She removed the fanged pendant from her neck and attached the head to complete the venomous figure. She knelt and bowed before it.
“O Great Nachash, I praise you for giving me the insight, the cunning, and this opportunity to rule — even if it’s just temporary. No longer will I consider the king my father — that title belongs only to you, Mighty One. Give me the victory I seek. Grant me favor in the eyes of my people.” She paused and chose her next words carefully. “Give me a chance to rid this world of that king who doesn’t care for your fame, because he seeks only his own glory. Show us your power.” Satisfied, she lifted her face from the ground and peered at the figurine still posed above her.
“Ah, if only the seer could witness this moment with me, Nachash. His old eyes would be so pleased to see the culmination of all he’s taught me about you.” She pictured him sitting in his den back in Havil, his shriveled hands folded over his thin lap. Unfortunately, his age and health prevented him from traveling this distance. If he had succeeded in his quest to find eternal life, then he could have gone anywhere with her. Her shoulders sagged and she sniffed, blinking quickly. Instead of going down that trail, she willed her mind to rove the warm walls of his home, stuffed with scrolls and tablets full of incantations. She threw back her head with a slight laugh. Maybe somehow he’s watching me right now.
She climbed to her feet, grabbed the snake charm from the ledge, fashioned it once again around her wrist, and hung the pendant back on its chain. Her movements slowed. Somehow, this ritual and prayer seemed incomplete and insufficient.
Nachash, I’ve sacrificed children to you, my children. The image of Nivlac heading for the door moments earlier flashed in her mind. Our children. But at a time like this — I brought no child and no blood, just words of prayer. You deserve much more.
Her eyes narrowed and a dark smile crossed her lips. “Nivlac!”
His face soon wedged into the crevice formed by the slightly opened door. “Yes, Priestess.”
“I need your assistance.”
He hurried to her. “What would you like me to do?”
“I need Nachash’s power surging through me.”
Nivlac’s eyes wandered up and to the side for a moment before focusing on her. “Very well, Princess.” He grimaced, knelt beside her, and placed his hands on her shoulders to steady her. “I’m ready.”
Clutching the chain about her neck, she pulled it out from under her clothing. Twice the size of a pikka and all gold, but hollowed out to carry venom, the pendant bore two green precious stones in place of eyes that rested above its opened mouth, which boasted two capped fangs. With a quick motion, she pulled off the small covers, revealing two tiny daggers.
As Nivlac dutifully braced her, she traced the fangs along her arm, and chanted under her breath. The slight pressure left two tracks on her skin. Mesmerized, her eyes gleamed, her hand steady and sure. As she reached the ink on her left shoulder that etched a permanent snake’s head, she plunged the two points into the corresponding fangs.
“Ah!” Her left hand seized in a clenched fist and Nivlac fought to hold her steady. “Nachash! Accept my blood and my actions. Above all, accept me, your mistress.”
Chapter 8
Her head throbbing due to the venom, Naamah pushed her thumbs hard into her temples as she climbed the stone stairway. During the night, her body had threatened to seize up as the poison spread through her system. For most of the night she struggled even to breathe as her throat constricted and her joints stiffened. The pain had been nearly unbearable.
This was not Naamah’s first experience with the venom. She had endured the self-inflicted routine countless times before, so she was confident the dose would not be fatal; although the first time she tried it, she had hoped it would be. Reeling from the people’s rejection of her plan to institute ritual prostitution in Havil and the subsequent destruction of the city centuries earlier, Naamah attempted to end her life by allowing a serpent to bite her. She recovered days later, but decades passed before the city returned to its former glory. The people eventually warmed up to her ideas, and within a couple of generations, Havil required all citizens to serve in such a capacity for a minimum of one year. Much to her mentor’s dismay, she took part in the custom on important days of the year. With Naamah leading by the example of sacrificing her first child and all eight others since, any child conceived during these rituals was offered to Nachash.
A jolt shot through her arm and stabbed her chest, ripping her mind back to the present. She welcomed the pain with a clench-jawed smile. The lingering effects of the venom typically wracked her body for days. Still, the brush with death provided a high like no other, capped by the ultimate thrill of doing it in honor of Nachash. Knowing that she always endured the venom gave her the assurance that she could survive the coming battle.
Steadying herself with a hand on the enormous city wall on her left, Naamah pushed forward. The massive blocks forming the 30-cubit high barrier would surely resist a direct assault from the Nodites. As she neared the highest step, the early morning sun peeked over the eastern half of Iri Geshem, forcing her to squint as her eyes adjusted. Atop the wall, hundreds of soldiers armed for battle stood at attention. She hoped their presence would make the Nodites think twice before attacking.
Breaking rank, Commander Tsek approached her and bowed. “Hail Naamah! How is the king?”
“He’s recovering well.” As much as she hated to say the words, she needed to inspire the soldiers. Willing away the pain, she spoke evenly with just a tinge of enthusiasm. “Thank you for asking about my father. Commander Tsek, are the men ready for battle?”
He swept his arm to the side, indicating the rows of warriors standing side by side. Just behind Tsek, a low parapet, matching its larger counterparts along the wall, served as a barrier between the platform on which they stood and the street far below. The immense double gate rose from the ground level to just beneath the feet of the soldiers ahead and to her left. Three layers of heavy timbers comprised each door, and a massive iron bar lowered into brackets prevented anyone from forcing the entrance open.
Naamah stepped to the side and suppressed a gasp when she saw the expanse of the enemy army p
ositioned outside. Stretching all the way to the river and several hundred cubits back, the black and red armored troops from Nod stood ready for war. Huge wagons with strange contraptions rested near the back of the throng. Pulled by lunkers and pushed by soldiers, another large cart bearing a massive pointed log moved through the middle of the army toward the gate.
“Have you spoken to them yet?”
“Not yet, Princess.” Tsek walked toward the wall as a few of his soldiers made way for him and Naamah. “They have spent all morning moving into position.”
“And the river? Do we have troops stationed there?”
“Two companies. We have saturated the banks with fire liquid so we can ignite it if the Nodites attempt to use the river.”
Hurried footsteps on the stairs behind her drew closer. “Princess.” Breathing heavily, Ashur stopped a few paces short of her. “We have four thousand citizens who want to join the fight.”
Naamah turned to Tsek. “Where do you want them?”
“They aren’t trained, so they’ll only get in our way up here.” The large man scratched his neck. “If the reinforcements don’t arrive in time, we’ll use them as decoys. For now, gather them in the city square, and I’ll send some of my men to train them in some basic maneuvers.”
“Thank you, Commander.” Ashur turned to leave but he stopped. His eyes grew wide and he pointed toward the Nodite army. His voice trembled as he spoke. “Can we . . . do you think . . . will we defeat that?”
“Have no fear, Councilman,” Tsek said. “It’s always easier to defend a city than to attack one.”
Three loud horn blasts sounded from beyond the wall. “People of Iri Geshem.” A booming voice echoed off the stone around her. “Who is qualified to speak with the fearsome captain of the unconquerable Nodite army?”
Naamah and Tsek walked to the edge of the wall, and Ashur followed, peeking over her shoulder. A dozen soldiers in metal armor stood with red and black flags around three men. The man in the middle held a bronze horn and the one next to him held a spear with the blunt end resting on the ground. Behind them, a decorated man stood in a chariot pulled by two large, angry-looking brown creatures. He stared up toward the Iri Geshem troops.
