by Tim Chaffey
Noah opened the cabinet closest to him and reached on the topmost shelf, fumbling around the containers of dried figs and preserves until he found the honey. Stomach grumbling, he retrieved a crock filled with golden goodness. Had he been a bit younger, he might have given in to the urge to sample the contents.
The door opened. Lamech entered and hugged his slender wife. “Looks delicious, Nina.”
Brushing back a strand of wavy hair that never would stay out of her face, she leaned in, gave him a quick kiss, and pointed to the table. “The fruits, nuts, and herbs are out, and the rest will be ready soon.”
“Here’s the milk. I’ll go wash up.”
Noah took the warm, fresh milk from his father and placed it and the crock of honey on the table. He walked over to the far side of the main room, where they kept all their dried goods stored in large earthenware pots and woven baskets. Jerah and Misha looked up at him from where they kept watch over the unconscious intruder, who lay on a low cot usually reserved for visitors. Noah had constructed the wooden frame of the bed, and Misha’s talented fingers had tightly looped many cords around it in a diamond pattern, weaving and knotting them to provide a firm base.
Jerah stood at the head of the cot, one leg casually crossed over the other, and leaned his arm on the wall. Misha sat on a stool close to the injured man and checked a bandage on his arm.
Sunlight beamed through the large, open window next to Jerah, giving Noah an opportunity to get a good look at the prostrate man. He looked younger than Noah had guessed — perhaps just a few years older than Noah. Dark, curly hair spilled over a bandage covering the wound on his head, and a short scraggly beard gave the impression that he hadn’t groomed himself much in recent days. Noah saw scratches and other marks on his limbs from the tussle early that morning. Peering closer, he noticed other scabs and scars, indicating deeper wounds that had mostly healed.
Noah glanced at Jerah. “How is he?”
“He’s groaned a few times, but other than that, he seems to be resting well.”
“And you?”
Jerah smiled and touched the bruise that swelled on his cheek. He winced but kept his grin. “This? This is nothing. I’ll be fine.”
Misha nudged Jerah with her bony elbow and looked up at him. “The girls at the market are going to think you look tough now.”
Jerah laughed, stuck out his chest, and placed his hands on his waist, elbows out.
“Well, except those skinny arms will betray him,” Noah said pinching his brother’s biceps.
Jerah turned red as Noah and Misha laughed. “Hey, you would’ve never caught him by yourself.”
Noah nodded. “That’s true. You were pretty brave this morning. You should’ve seen him, Misha.”
“Yeah, I jumped on him twice.”
“And got thrown off twice.” Noah smiled, turning up just one side of his mouth. “I’m the one who took him down.”
“You just got lucky that he hit his head when you tripped him. Otherwise, as slow as you are, he would have been long gone.”
Before Noah could fire his next comeback, Misha pointed. “Look.”
Noah looked down at the bound man and called out to his father, “He’s waking up.”
The stranger briefly opened his eyes and then squinted hard. He tried again, looking toward Misha and blinking several times.
Lamech strode into the room and stood next to Noah. “How is he?”
Noah shrugged.
The young man attempted to see where the voice had come from, but flinched and quickly rested his head back down. He tried to move his hands, but the binding held fast. “Where am I? Why am I tied up?” His speech slurred a little. “Who are you?”
“Why don’t you tell us first who you are?” Lamech placed a hand on Misha’s head. “Let your mother know that we’ll be there soon.”
Shoulders slumped, Misha walked out of the room.
“Who are you?” Lamech resumed his questioning as he sat down on Misha’s stool.
Rolling his head slowly, the stranger looked up at Noah and then at Lamech. “My name is Aterre.” He opened his mouth to speak, but then stopped and closed his eyes. “Are you the ones I fought with?”
Noah nodded. “I’m Noah.” He motioned to his brother, who was still standing by the window. “And that’s Jerah.”
Aterre shifted slowly and placed his bound hands unsteadily on the edge of the cot. Using them as a prop, he carefully scooted himself into a more upright position and leaned his back against the wall. With clenched jaw, he squinted into the sunlight, trying to see Jerah better, then he turned guarded eyes back to Lamech as the older man continued.
“I’m their father, Lamech. What were you doing in my house?”
“I was trying to find something to eat.”
Noah noticed Aterre had a different accent. He pronounced some vowel sounds much more quickly than Noah had ever heard. If I’d been able to travel, maybe I’d know where he was from.
“And you thought to steal it from us?”
“I was hungry. It’s how I’ve been able to survive these last several whole moons.” He shifted again in obvious discomfort. Noah couldn’t tell if it was because Aterre was uncomfortable over getting caught or if his injuries caused the distress.
“What about before that?” Noah asked.
Aterre shook his head. “I was never a thief, but lately I’ve had to.” He paused and closed his eyes, his whole demeanor hardening. “All because they came.”
Noah and his father exchanged glances.
“Who came?” Lamech leaned closer.
Aterre sat there stiffly.
“Young man.” Lamech’s voice firmed in a way Noah knew all too well. “I’m asking because I’m trying to decide whether I should turn you over to the town protectors. So unless you want to be punished by them, you need to start talking. Who came?”
“Men. They attacked my village one night. It happened so fast. I heard screams and saw bodies strewn everywhere.” Aterre’s eyes fixed on nothing, and they were filled with hatred. “My mother and sisters are gone. They would’ve killed me if I hadn’t grabbed the knife I keep under my pallet and swung it at the face of the man who grabbed me. Judging by the amount of blood I felt, I think I cut him pretty bad. He screamed and let go of me.” He slumped, his voice falling to a whisper. “I fled and kept on running until I was sure no one was following me.”
Lamech gently placed his hand on Aterre’s shoulder. “Do you know who the men were?”
Aterre shook his head, wincing at the sudden movement, and then shrugged off Lamech’s hand. “No. There were just too many. They came so suddenly.”
“Were they from around here?” Noah asked.
“I doubt it.” Aterre sighed and looked at the wooden poles that comprised the main frame of the peaked thatched ceiling. “I’ve been on the run for nearly six whole moons, so I’m not sure if I know precisely where ‘here’ is. We lived in the land of Havilah, on the southwestern side of the Blue Sea. With no family left and no clue who attacked us, I just wanted to get far away from that place. I thought I’d take my chances and go to the land of Eden. I knew no one would even try to find me there.”
Noah knew rumors about the land of Eden, which was located far away to the northwest, following the Hiddekel River up through the land of Asshur. Still he was curious to know what Aterre had heard. “Why there?”
Aterre raised his eyebrows. “You don’t know?”
“Tell me.” Noah knelt down to be at his eye level.
“There are tales that the land was cursed in ancient times and is haunted by the spirits of everyone who has died attempting to enter it. They say that anyone who goes there will either die or lose their mind.”
Noah raised his eyebrows. “And you aren’t afraid to go there?”
“My mother always taught us not to believe the legends. She said spirits of people couldn’t harm anyone — that when we die, we just go to the ground and stay there. I guess I trust her more than the s
tories.”
“We have our stories about Eden here too.” Jerah leaned in.
“What stories?” Aterre tried to scoot closer but his jaw clenched and he quickly abandoned the attempt.
Jerah sat at the foot of the bed. “My great grandfather was named Enoch. He spent a lot of time in the land of Nod warning people that the Creator would judge the wicked.”
“Of course, they mocked him,” Noah said. “Father says the people there are pretty evil.”
“One time he decided to go to the land of Eden with my father’s uncle, Berit.” Jerah lowered his voice. “But Enoch never came back.”
“What happened to him?”
Lamech held his hand out to stop his second son from continuing. “My uncle says that he was walking behind my grandfather. He looked to the side for a second, and when he turned back he only saw a flash of light and my grandfather was gone.”
“Really?”
Lamech nodded. “My uncle thinks he crossed the border to Eden and was turned into a spirit.”
“Is that where the rumors come from?” Aterre looked more awake now.
“Maybe, but I don’t think that’s what happened. My grandfather walked closely with the Creator.”
“What do you mean? They took walks together?”
Lamech shook his head and smiled. “No, that’s our way of saying he faithfully followed the Creator’s ways. So, my family and I believe that the Creator took him because he was so faithful.”
“Why would He do that?” Aterre asked.
“Maybe to spare him from all the wickedness in this world.”
Aterre raised an eyebrow. “By killing him?”
“He didn’t die. He was taken so that he didn’t need to face death. Now, he lives with the Creator.”
Aterre let out a deep breath.
Lamech studied the young man for a long moment. “Do you have any idea what happened to your mother and sisters?”
Sadness swept over Aterre’s face. “If they’re still alive, my guess is that they’re slaves.”
“Slaves?” Lamech asked. “That’s happening in Havilah too? My grandfather said that some places in Nod took people as slaves, but I didn’t know anyone else would do something like that.”
“I’d heard rumors about it,” Aterre said, “but I never imagined it would happen to my family.”
“I’m sorry about what you’ve been through.” Lamech paused, looking critically at Aterre. “How would you feel about staying with us?”
Aterre looked up with widened eyes. He appeared as stunned as Noah felt. “With you? But I just robbed you and fought your sons. Why would you be so kind to me?”
“The Creator expects us to be kind to others, particularly to those in need.” Lamech shifted in his seat. “If what you told us is true, then it seems to me that you need to be part of a family again.” Lamech motioned to Aterre’s hands. “Noah, Jerah, untie him.”
“Yes, sir.” Noah worked to untie the leather belt that had secured Aterre’s hands together while Jerah undid the one at his feet. Misha entered the room again and stood next to their father.
Aterre stretched out his hands and gingerly flexed his arms. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. You know, there are other ways of getting food around here.” Lamech motioned to Noah and Jerah. “I’m sure the boys wouldn’t mind having some more help in the fields.”
“The fields?” Aterre’s eyes lit up ever so slightly. “You’re a farmer? I’d love to help.” Aterre attempted to sit up straight but quickly changed his mind. “I guess my head is still spinning.”
Lamech lightly patted Aterre’s shoulder. “Just take your time. I’ll have Misha bring you a plate.”
Misha jumped to her feet and smiled at Aterre. “You talk funny.”
Aterre grinned. “I might say the same about you.”
She laughed and hurried into the kitchen.
Lamech stood up. “Here’s my proposal. Take some time to heal up, and then as long as you’re willing to work on the farm, you’re welcome to stay with us. Noah can teach you what you need to know.”
Aterre looked at him steadily. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t thank me just yet,” Lamech said. He smiled and put an arm around Noah and pulled him close. “You haven’t had to work with my son yet.”
Chapter 3
Noah set the stone blade of the hoe on the ground and leaned against the staff as he scanned his surroundings. A light breeze carried small, fluffy white clouds across the great blue expanse. The sun neared its high point of the day, but the air remained mild and comfortable. The beautiful weather would soon give way to the hottest days of the year, so he wanted to enjoy this while it lasted.
Thanks to Aterre’s hard work over the past several weeks, they had not only planted grain in the two fields still fallow when he arrived, but they had cleared, plowed, and planted a brushy area Lamech had long been desiring to convert to useable land.
Noah looked at the small, healthy orb plant shoots at his sandaled feet and then up in the direction of the house. Although it was blocked from view by the barn, thinking of the house brought to mind the midmeal preparations going on inside. Noah’s stomach grumbled. The table was always so full of good things this season that sometimes Noah pictured the carved wooden joints he had labored over giving way to the weight of the food. Midmeal provided the family a chance to gather together while they rested and let the hottest part of the day transition into the sun’s descent. It gave Noah the energy he needed to finish working late into the evening.
Nestled between the Hiddekel River at its back and the barn in front, the house was the heart of the growing farm. The malid orchard and smaller river that emptied into the Hiddekel, where Noah had chased and tackled Aterre, lay to the right. Rising high above the north side of their house was Sacrifice Hill, as his father called it. At its crest, their family made regular offerings to the Most High: fruit, grain, and occasionally the best of the flock. While the hill hosted the most solemn occasions, it also was the location of some of the finest playtimes for Noah and his siblings.
Taking in the view, Noah visualized himself and his brother as boys, chasing each other down the slope. Sometimes they would race, seeing who could roll down the large mound fastest. The two boys competed at everything, and being the older brother, Noah usually came out ahead, but Jerah was never far behind.
Noah also thought back to the countless times he’d climbed that hill just to be with himself and his dreams. He remembered the boyhood ritual he’d observed whenever he got his chores finished early. He would climb Sacrifice Hill and watch for the small cargo boats on the river, carving replicas and longing to be on one. They rarely passed by, but Noah’s mind raced with the potential for adventure that each one carried. Where did they come from and how far up or down the river would they travel? Perhaps they would encounter bandits and would have to prove their strength. What would it be like to visit other lands and see other peoples?
Alas, for now he was confined to the vicinity of Iri Sana, a town just up the Hiddekel. His father called it a small town, but it was the largest Noah had ever seen. Home to a few hundred people, it boasted a large farmers’ market and a handful of specialty shops along its main road. What he wouldn’t give to see the world, but that would have to wait for at least another year — until he turned 40. He sighed. If Father lets me.
Immediately ahead, the pale green stalks of gold and brown pebble fruit were already knee high, and in a whole moon would tower above him. To the south, fields of long grass would grow tall before being harvested about three times a year. Beyond that, several cattle and other livestock grazed on the rolling hills that stretched to the forest.
Something smacked Noah in the back of the head.
He spun and barely blocked a second clod of dirt before it reached its intended target. Brushing off his hands, Aterre laughed. He had recovered from his wounds in a few days and had joined Noah and Jerah in the farm
work for the past several weeks. Though he tired easily at first, Aterre was a quick study and easy to get along with, despite their less-than-ideal meeting.
“Are you going to work or just daydream?”
“I’ve been working all morning, just like you. But I think it’s almost time to head in for midmeal.”
“I was thinking the same thing.” Aterre put down his hoe. As he adjusted the upper portion of his robe, Noah noticed, not for the first time, a dark image on his back before it disappeared once more beneath the fabric covering.
“What is that?”
Aterre looked confused. “What’s what?”
Noah closed the distance between them. “That mark on your back. I’ve never seen anything like it. It looked like a tree.”
Aterre exposed his back again so Noah could see the inked image more clearly. The tree symbol began at the base of Aterre’s shoulder blade. The trunk curved as it followed the shallow lines made by that bone. Leaf representations spread out gently to the right, and made a bolder statement as they crossed the rounded boundary made by his spine. “It is the mark of Sepha. Back in Havilah, the young men who join Sepha receive this symbol on their backs.”
Noah furrowed his brow. “I’ve heard of Sepha before, but only in a negative way. My father says they distort the teachings of the Creator.”
Aterre tucked the cloth into the fold at his waist. “With all due respect to your father, I don’t see how that’s possible. Sepha just teaches us how to calm our minds and focus our thoughts. My order also taught us some defensive and attacking moves. That doesn’t go against the Creator’s ways, does it?”
“Not that I know of,” Noah said. “But that explains how you were able to take on Jerah and me at the same time.”
“That might’ve had something to do with it.” Aterre flashed a sly grin. “Although you farm boys are pretty tough.”
As the two headed off toward the house, Noah wondered why his father would have spoken negatively about the group if they were not truly bad. “So Sepha doesn’t have any kind of moral or spiritual teachings at all?”
“Well, we’re taught to protect our families and our fellow members. We’re told that if we focus properly and clear our minds of any distractions, then we can discover true wisdom.”
