Noah

by Tim Chaffey

  “How would you do that?” Lamech asked.

  “You could send a couple of guards with me, and we could walk or ride back.”

  Tubal-Cain snorted. “Do you know how far it is?”

  She scowled at him. “I don’t care. I want to go.”

  “I don’t want to speak for their city,” Tubal-Cain said, tapping a finger against his lips. “I don’t know if it’s possible, but maybe they can send her back on another ship and return with more of my supplies. I don’t know how long it might take to locate some iron there, so I’d like to have as much as possible.”

  Lamech took a sip of his drink. “What do you think, Zillah?”

  The woman studied her daughter. “I’ve learned by now that if she wants something bad enough, then it’s best to stay out of her way. Tubal-Cain can look out for her until it’s time for her to come home.”

  The king leaned back in his chair and shook his head. “Fine. You can go too, but I’m sending two of my best guards with you.”

  Naamah squealed in delight. “Yes. Thank you, Da.”

  Lamech smiled at his daughter and then shifted his gaze to Zain, but pointed at Ashur. “What’s his name?”

  Zain elbowed Ashur to draw his attention away from the dancers. “It’s Ashur, sir.”

  Ashur spun quickly in his chair and faced the king. “Sir?”

  “You said that you own an inn?” Lamech asked.

  Ashur nodded. “I do.”

  “Is it a nice place?”

  Ashur gestured to the spacious room. “It’s not like this, but it’s one of the finest places in the city. I’d be happy to host your son, daughter, and guards while they are in town, if that’s what you were going to ask.”

  “That’s precisely what I had in mind.”

  Noah searched for a way to prevent this plan from becoming final. “Sir, may I point out a difficulty with this idea?”

  Naamah fixed her gaze on Noah as concern spread across her face.

  “By all means,” Lamech said.

  Noah scratched the side of his head. “I don’t mean to cause offense, but I don’t think we have enough room on the ship to accommodate your daughter and two guards.”

  “I think we can make room for them,” Zain said. “As long as Tubal-Cain’s supplies don’t fill up the entire cargo hold, we can set up some sleeping quarters below deck.”

  Noah furrowed his brow but conceded defeat. “I’m not sure, but we can try to rearrange things tomorrow to see if there will be room.”

  “That sounds fair to me,” Lamech said. “Now let’s eat.”

  Chapter 28

  Naamah stepped around her brother’s many crates full of tools and iron pellets, and left the small curtained-off area in the hull. Although she was not accustomed to such tight sleeping quarters, she was thankful for the privacy. Tiptoeing as quietly as possible to avoid waking her guards, she slipped up the steps to the main deck. She arched her neck, glad to be able to fully stand, and looked around. The deep hued sky, strewn with a myriad of stars, beckoned to her like an old friend while the moon hung low and large as if it longed to be near. Having dropped to the mild temperature she liked best, the evening air filled her lungs, and she succumbed to the dangerous invitation the wind gave as it softly whispered through her hair and the light folds of her dress. She smiled, knowing that the elements were on her side and would accentuate her beauty tonight. Looking over her left shoulder, she saw her brother and the farmer along with two others from Iri Geshem; all were engrossed in a game of sorts. She scoffed at the raucous noises they were making near the stern and headed toward the front of the ship.

  Her foot caught on something and she stumbled forward, barely staying on her feet. “Oops.” She put a hand up to her mouth. “I didn’t see you there.”

  Noah, lying flat against the deck, lifted his head slightly off his arms. “Oh. Evening peace, Naamah. I meant no harm.”

  “Please, don’t get up.” She waved him back to his more comfortable position, her many bangles starting a cheerful chorus. “It was my fault. Mind if I sit?”

  Noah shrugged before resting his head back against his crossed arms. “Not at all.”

  Naamah settled close to him, where she was sure to been seen and hardest to ignore. She laid a hand gracefully on her knee and dipped her shoulder ever so slightly toward him. “What are you doing here?”

  “Watching the stars. This is the perfect evening for it.”

  “Mmm, I completely agree. It’s absolutely enchanting out here.” She gave him her most engaging smile.

  “Indeed. But I’m also using them to track our movements. Right now, we’re heading east.”

  “How can you tell?”

  Noah pointed to his left just above the horizon. “See that bright star over there?”

  “Yes.”

  “That one always leads north, so since it’s to our left, then we’re pointed east.” Noah returned his hand behind his head.

  His muscles bulged and shifted as he moved. The physique of a warrior. Not for the first time since meeting him, she recalled the words of the seer: “A storm brews in the north, with thick, dark clouds, vexing your father. But a ray of sunshine pierces through it, lighting up your face.” The words had become like a litany, running through her mind again and again, shaping her thoughts and even her dreams. Now the question that had plagued her for weeks returned: Could Noah be the storm as well as the sunshine? Maybe he doesn’t have cause to harm my father yet, but I could give him plenty of reasons.

  Since their voyage began, she had searched for insights about him, but he seemed to go out of his way to avoid her. She was surprised he had not fled to the safety of the other men’s company in the stern. Perhaps he was finally abandoning his reticence. Excitement rippled through her. The more she gleaned of his character, the more she was drawn to him, and not just as a means to further her ends.

  Eager to extend this unexpected chance to be near him, she leaned in, letting her eyes widen in what she’d long ago realized was her most irresistible look. “What else do you learn from the stars?”

  Noah quickly looked at the entirety of her and paused as he swallowed.

  She hid a smile. So he likes what he sees. By shifting her long frame occasionally, she forced his eyes to keep peeking at her. He discussed names and how travelers used the stars’ locations to keep their bearing. Stifling a yawn, Naamah blinked and tried to look interested. Suddenly, the ship hit a small swell, and she used the unexpected motion to her advantage. Feigning a loss of balance, she hitched forward and placed her hand firmly on Noah’s chest as if to regain her equilibrium.

  “Thank you.” Allowing her thumb to lightly stroke him in the same spot, she let the curtain of her hair brush against his torso and peered at him through her lashes. “I’m glad you were there. I’m still learning how to steady myself on one of these.”

  Noah shifted away and sat upright. “You get used to it. The pitching and rocking become barely noticeable after a while.”

  Concealing her displeasure, she smiled demurely. “It’s been several weeks and yet I’m still clumsy, while you manage so well.”

  “You don’t seem clumsy to me.”

  She blinked slowly and tilted her head. “It’s easy to feel at ease around you. Are you always this nice?”

  “Ha. You should ask Aterre; he’d tell you the truth.”

  “Well you’ve been nothing but kind to me this whole time. I’m so glad I’ve come. I’m thrilled to see new places.” Her fingers extended to their full length, as if they too could not contain their excitement. She almost brushed against Noah’s hand with hers and he looked at the near contact before turning his attention back to her face.

  “I know what you mean,” he said. “I couldn’t wait to see more of the world than the tiny corner where I grew up.”

  “And now, here you are.”

  “Yeah. I would’ve never thought I’d get to come this far in so short a time.”

  “You’r
e a driven man, full of greatness. Noah, I —” She paused and looked down as if suddenly shy.

  “What is it?”

  She traced the edge of her garment and let the silence do its work.

  “Tell me.”

  She smiled inwardly. “You and I are cut from the same cloth.” Holding up her hem to make her point also revealed the skin just past her knee. She released slowly, letting the fabric flutter back — not quite into place. “We both long to know what’s out there and to make something of ourselves. And” — she dropped her voice to a whisper, forcing him to lean closer to hear — “I confess, I also want to know you in a deeper way. I can see that you’re not entirely indifferent to me.”

  “Naamah, I should —”

  She softly put her finger on his lips. “Let me finish, please. Maybe it’s out of place for so young a girl to speak this way, but I think we’d be good together as” — she gave him an alluring glance — “as husband and wife.”

  He gently placed her hand away from him. “I’m getting married once we return to Iri Geshem. I thought you knew.”

  She drew in a sharp breath. “No, I didn’t.” Silence took over once more as she pushed emotion aside and rapidly tried to find where her advantage lay. She chose to play the innocent victim. “You’ve been so attentive, I thought — I guess I thought you felt the same as I do. I thought you found me beautiful.” She bent toward him. “Don’t you think I’m beautiful?”

  “Naam — uh, you certainly are. That’s not it. It’s just that —”

  “You’re promised to some girl,” she interrupted. “I get that. But it’s such a shame. You’re ambitious and focused, and with your passion and my position, don’t you see how far we could go? I have the money to finance your dreams. You’d have your ships and we’d sail the world, always searching for the next adventure. And we’d have each other; we’d have it all.”

  “Naamah, please listen. I did promise myself to Emzara, but it’s not something I dread. I love her and long for her. I never meant for you to think that you and I had a future together.” Noah stood, smoothed his wrap so it hung back down to his knees, and then offered to help her up. She could read concern in his eyes. “I don’t know if you’ve thought much about him before, but Aterre is available.”

  Pretending not to see his hand, she stood and stepped back. Though her heart seethed with anger and hurt, she forced a little low laugh. “It’s hard to notice the moon when it’s always next to the sun. But thank you. I wish you — and her — all the best. Please, let’s speak no more of my silly nonsense. Shall we see what the others are up to?”

  Noah nodded, and she allowed him to pass by her before following him to the rear of the ship. The noisy game had ended, and only two figures remained, each using a large barrel as a makeshift stool. The illumination of a nearby oil lamp revealed the features of her brother. Quickly she hopped up next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder so he could not see her face.

  “Amah. I thought you were asleep already.”

  Forcing her tone to be light, but still hiding her countenance, she spoke softly. “No. It was so beautiful out here, I just had to soak it in.”

  “Aterre.” Tubal-Cain turned to the other man. “Let’s catch these two up before you finish your story.”

  He paused and she sensed his hesitation. “I can leave if I’m not wanted here.”

  “She’s fine.”

  Noah’s words warmed her as he sat next to his friend.

  “Your brother asked about my background. I told him I grew up very peaceably with my family in the western part of Havilah, and I was just to the part where all that changed.”

  For the second time that night, Naamah found her mind wandering. As bits and pieces of Aterre’s story floated in and out of her conscious thought, she revisited the words of the oracle. What good are they now? Battling the emotions and willing the tears back, she bit her lip and forced herself to pay attention to the farmer’s words.

  “I thought I was done for. After a desperate attempt for freedom, I slashed into the darkness and felt his blood drip down my arm and heard my attacker yell. He released me to move his hands to where my blade had met his face.” Aterre’s shoulders shuddered as if the memory haunted him often.

  Silence and uneasiness shrouded the group, but Aterre eventually filled in the blanks with quiet, but intensely spoken words. “My dreams often bring back that night and torment me with their vividness. I don’t know what I’d do if I really saw him again.”

  “Have you come close to finding him?” Tubal-Cain asked.

  “No. That was seven years ago, and I’m not even searching for him. I’d still like to know what happened to my family, though.” He shot a glance at Noah and Noah gave a tiny shake of his head as some meaning passed between them.

  Oblivious to the exchange, Tubal-Cain furrowed his brow. “But after everything that villain did to you?”

  “I know.” Aterre shrugged. “But, because of those events, I fled and ran straight into Noah and his family.”

  “Literally.” The two men shared a small chuckle.

  “And it’s through them that I’ve come to have a greater understanding of the Creator.” Aterre’s voice cracked.

  “It’s been a long time in coming, I can tell you that.” Noah shouldered his friend playfully. “This one is almost as hardheaded as I am. But after ever so many questions, he’s pledged to learn and follow the ways of the Creator.”

  “Good has come out of my tragedy.”

  Naamah stared at him. How could he talk so? His mother and sisters dead or enslaved, and he sits here rambling about trusting God? Did their lives mean nothing to him? She jumped down from the barrel and moved to stand by the railing, looking out over the black and silver expanse of sea.

  The men sat in silence for a long moment before Tubal-Cain cleared his throat. “That’s quite a life you’ve lived already. I’m honored you’d share some of your pain with my little sister and me.”

  Naamah sneered at the water, then pasted on a smile and turned, brushing her hair out of her eyes. “Yes, thank you for including me, but it’s time I headed downstairs. Evening peace to you three.”

  Later, while she lay in bed, her tears finally made their little paths down her cheeks and opened the door to the inner torrent. Aware of the tightness of the quarters and the thinness of her curtain wall, she sobbed into her pillow, her shoulders silently heaving. The pain of rejection gripped her chest, familiar and fresh all at once. The old scar, the one that appeared the day her father came back with a new wife, throbbed in dull counterpoint to the new wound. I expect it of him, but not you, Noah. She balled up her fists. And how can you so easily dismiss me to the farmer? He’s no better than my father. He found a new family too.

  She would never consider Aterre as a potential mate. Though she could never pinpoint why, he had repulsed her from their first meeting. And now — what she’d heard tonight only deepened her revulsion.

  Something poked at the recesses of her memory, something about his story. Swallowing her tears, she replayed Aterre’s words, but the connection eluded her. Think. She stared at the boards of the deck, which comprised her ceiling. Noah probably worked on those. No, don’t go there. Focus on Aterre’s story. Why does it bother you?

  She sat straight up and clutched at the thin sheet covering her. Her father’s scar! Could it be? Wildly, she pondered the ramifications. Seven years ago a new wife was not the only thing her father brought home. The wound on his face. And seven years ago, Aterre lost his mother and gave a scar to a raiding man. Could Father be that man? Impossible. The timing is the same, but Father claimed his was a defensive wound. Of course, he would say that to keep the respect of the people.

  Just when she had convinced herself that these were crazy thoughts, born of her intense emotions from Noah’s refusal, she straightened her shoulders and her eyes shot open. His accent! Aterre’s accent is the same as Adah’s. My disgust of him is connected to her.

>   Pondering the usefulness of this information, she lay back down, her mind spinning.

  Chapter 29

  Iri Geshem — Noah’s 46th year

  Sweat dripped from his cheek as Noah strained to bend a strip of wood for the hull of Lamech’s ship. Just nine days remained before the wedding, and the week-long preparation rituals would soon commence. Looking forward to his two weeks away from work, Noah poured himself into his labors, trying to finish as much as possible before his departure. He held the wooden strip in place as Bakur lashed it to the stern with a temporary leather strap. Eager to use the iron binders, Noah remembered Tubal-Cain’s admonition that they would need to be greased to prevent rusting. A hint of doubt touched his mind, but he pushed it away. No matter how much maintenance the new ships required, it would be worth it if they could sail the open sea.

  The days had blurred together since their return from Havil, with Lamech’s commission keeping everyone busy. Ara added another employee, allowing them to prepare the wood and completely frame the vessel in only two whole moons.

  In addition to overseeing that project, Noah helped Tubal-Cain set up his forge — next to the shipyard, at Ara’s request. After they constructed the new building, Tubal-Cain spent much of his time venturing to outlying regions around town, searching for a source of iron ore. He also showed Noah how to convert certain lumber to charcoal that would burn hot enough for ironworking. Before long, the blacksmith’s shop opened for business.

  During this construction, the long workdays left little time to spend with his beloved or their friends and guests from Havil. Thankfully, Naamah had put the awkward moment on the boat behind her, and she got along with the others well, even spending considerable time with Emzara and Adira. Earlier that day, they had all traipsed down to the shore to see her off as she departed for home with her guards on another Farna-led voyage.

  “Steady. That should hold for now,” Bakur said, bringing Noah’s attention back.

  “I’ll get the next strip.” Noah strode over to the stockpile and on the way picked up the container of water and drank deeply. The waves lapped the shore behind him, and a slight breeze carried only minor relief from the day’s heat.