“I had a vision of you being in danger,” Cassi announced after the hunters formed a protective ring around Jubal.
“We came as quickly as we could,” Anak added. He stood six and a half cubits in height, had light skin, a neatly trimmed beard, and brown eyes.
Her words explained their haste in covering a span of ground before the incident occurred, even though their timing was a little off. Even so, Jubal was pleased to see them. Anyone who wanted him dead would be discouraged, having to go through skilled weapon-wielders to reach him, not that he was unable to take care of himself. He had just demonstrated his ability in that regard. It was public safety that concerned him, the fact that more innocent people could get hurt if the violence continued or escalated.
He glanced at his sister and then pointed up. “The man in the hood shot an arrow at me using this bow and the three hanging upside down with him attempted to cover his escape. The arrow struck a woman in the shoulder.”
Andromeda sneered at the culprit. “Lucky for you your aim is poor; else I would hurl this spear into your vitals.”
The man could not see the sneer but must have heard it in her tone because he began struggling vainly within the confines of his robe, but such would do nothing to shield him from a tossed spear. In spite of his feeble efforts he remained thirty cubits above the crowd and completely helpless.
“I might slay him anyway,” Orion stated, although the arm holding the spear did not move. The lack of emotion in the tone and absence of physical motion did not mean the words were an idle threat. The man could launch spear, arrow, or obsidian blade in the blink of an eye.
Cassi pulled her blade. “I have a better idea. Brother, lower the bowman, and I will use this to learn why he attempted to kill you.”
“Lower the other three as well and we will beat them with the blunt ends of our spears. They will answer your questions after a few well-placed blows,” Malcus stated with Hercunus and Constan nodding eagerly in agreement.
The culprits needed to be questioned, yet Jubal did not have the stomach for the methods being suggested and wondered when his sister had acquired one, not so much the other three. The four captives seemed frightened enough just hanging upside down in the air, perhaps more height and a few sudden drops would make them feel cooperative. “I am sure we can get them to talk without resorting to bludgeoning or bloodshed.”
A parting at the extreme edge of the crowd began to widen, creating a pathway to the center. Roddy headed a group of Nephilim, Pan among them, and so were Thoth, Thanatos, and Aphrodite. The rest were recent graduates from Jubal’s class, Apophis, Anubis, Asa, and Adonijah.
“No need for knives,” Roddy announced after glancing briefly at Cassiopeia. “I have just composed a new Aaka, Truth Speak. No one can answer falsely while under the influence of this Melody.”
Orion pointed at the amber trident on Roddy’s forehead, but snapped his mouth shut when Jubal motioned for everyone to step back and then righted and lowered his four captives to a pace above ground level and held them there. “I look forward to witnessing Truth Speak being implemented and later recording it. I suggest you start with the fellow wearing the hood.”
The clothing of the captives fell back down to just above their sandaled feet and Cassi reached up and tossed back the hood obscuring the bowman’s face.
A yellow beam of light like the breast of a hooded warbler shot out of Roddy’s finger and struck the forehead of the bowman. “Were you trying to kill Jubal or someone else?”
The Tiny was young with a few whiskers that could barely be described as a beard and his three friends were of an age with him. “Kill the Instructor. My aim was good but he shot into the air after my shaft left the bow and the arrow struck Gemeena. Who could have predicted such a thing? A few blinks later I was seized by his spell and flipped up off my feet.” The reply came immediately.
“What is your name and who is your father?” Roddy demanded.
“I am Aaken, son of Fileeman,” the young man answered in a flat tone and without hesitation, even though a tear trickled from his eye. Speaking the truth pained him emotionally if not physically.
Fileeman, the same individual Jubal had ordered to take the wounded woman to Medica. Being a descendant of Javan son of Japheth made the man a kinsman of Vashti. At a previous encounter the Tiny had shown contempt for Anakim and Nephilim, yet had been respectful when Jubal gave the order. Fileeman seemed as horrified as anyone else at what had happened. His heart would have probably broken had he stayed to hear what his son confessed to doing. The news would reach him soon enough.
“Why were you trying to kill Jubal?” Roddy continued the questioning.
“I was told to do so.”
“You were told by whom?”
“My father,” Aaken replied in monotone, even though his face was red with strain as if some part of him truly did not want to answer.
Roddy looked out into the crowd. “Where is Fileeman?”
“I saw him taking Gemeena to the infirmary while we were running here,” Andromeda responded. “He seemed distressed but who would not under the circumstances.”
Jubal was stunned that any kinsman of Vashti would want him dead, much less father and son, so it took a few moments for him to catch up to the general question Nimrod had thrown to the crowd. “I ordered that the woman should be taken to Medica, Fileeman happened to be the one standing next to me, and he complied. I could swear the look of horror on his face at what happened was genuine.”
“I am sure it was,” Thanatos remarked, “horror over the fact his son had missed, perhaps some guilt over the injuring of Gemeena, and the speed at which you reacted to the threat.”
“Why do you and your father hate me so?” Jubal demanded of the young man.
Aaken looked his intended victim in the eyes. “No one I know hates you. For a Nephilim you are not near as arrogant and self-important as the rest of your kind.”
His answer had the ring of being true, at least as he saw the truth, and his tone was almost respectful, yet was devoid of any regret for his actions.
“Then why kill me?” Jubal wanted, needed, to know.
The bowman kept his mouth closed.
“Why were you ordered to kill Jubal?” Roddy asked with the voice of authority.
The young man’s face turned red with the strain of holding back the answer, but he responded in the even tone he had been using earlier under compulsion. “Killing Jubal will keep the Nephilim from becoming all powerful or at least slow them down. You are the composer but he keeps finding new ways to increase what can be done. For the good of mankind the Instructor must be stopped.”
“Why did you not try to kill me?” Roddy seemed genuinely curious.
It was a good question. Kill the Aakasear and the single act would stop the Nephilim’s rise to becoming all powerful. Why would father and son go after Jubal when killing Nimrod was more logical? Without him there would be no Melodies to wield.
Aaken tossed his head from side to side in a clear effort to keep from answering, but the compulsion was too strong for him. “We will the moment you are in a vulnerable position.”
The response made Jubal think beyond the attempt on his life to a larger conspiracy. He and Roddy needed to die, might there be more? “Who else is slated to be killed at an opportune moment?”
The question went unanswered because the wrong person had spoken. The would-be killer’s face lit up in a smile of triumph and defiance.
“Who else is slated to be killed at an opportune moment?” Roddy reiterated.
“Zeus, Oden, Ra, Semiramis,” the list began, included, Poseidon, Hades, Kronos, other leaders, and ended with, “Vashti.”
Hearing her name spoken as a target for murder sparked alarm in Jubal’s heart and he was tempted to go find Fileeman. She would not be suspicious of a kinsman and therefore be vulnerable to attack.
Every Nephilim involved with the new government was a target. Jubal could think of no way to
reason with the people who planned such heinous acts. Being glad to see the Nephilim move to Semidon was one thing, planning murder was unthinkable; had been unthinkable, he corrected. He knew for certain how Roddy would react to a group of Tinies who stood in his way, as if they were a handful of grasshoppers in a garden. If they were lucky he would merely brush them aside. So far they had not shown any signs of being lucky.
“This is not the place to continue the interrogation. We will take these four conspirators to a more private setting and learn the names of every person involved. Pan, track down and capture Fileeman and bring him to me,” Roddy spoke decisively and in the booming voice normally reserved for public address, which meant his words were for the crowd as much as the Weapocarns and Aakacarns standing around him.
“Consider the man caught,” Pan replied and walked away in a brisk, ground-eating, stride.
Roddy leaned closer to Jubal and spoke softly. “You can go make sure Vashti is safe and let her know about the list.”
The desire to protect his wife fought briefly against his desire to find Fileeman before Pan, Jubal’s immediate concern for Vashti won out. “It will be as you say. I will warn Semi as well.”
If the traitor was at the house and harmed Vashti, he would curse the day he had been born.
“No need, Semiramis is already where I intend to take them. Pity that, she is not as patient or forgiving as I,” Nimrod replied, in a voice loud enough for the detainees to hear. Two of them groaned.
Jubal had some strong feelings bubbling up inside, pity not being among them. He released the Da Capos on the captives, allowing the foolish men to drop to the ground, and noted Thanatos, Thoth, and Aphrodite leveling producers at the three men. Nimrod did the same with Aaken while the Anakim dispersed the crowd. The Nephilim walked away with the guilty party floating in their wake. Asa, Adonijah, Apophis, and Anubis also glowed with potential, clearly ready to strike out at anyone who thought it was the opportune moment to kill Nimrod. Jubal intended to get the details from Roddy later and also add Truth Speak to his small but growing repertoire.
“You are not going alone,” Anak said while matching strides.
“We will escort you,” Cassi insisted in a tone that brooked no argument.
Jubal almost reminded them that he was more skilled with the weapons they carried than they themselves and that he could wield potential, but changed his mind. “It will be as you say.”
He handed the bow to his brother-in-law.
“Wise choice,” Anak stated in his exceedingly deep voice.
“We would have followed you anyway,” Cassi needlessly added, which was one of the reason Jubal changed his mind, him knowing his sister so well.
The crowd parted easily as he headed back to his new home, owned by and on loan from Imhotep. The meandering walk had taken Jubal farther than he had realized and as he strode along with his sister and her husband on either side, it donned on him how careless he had been in not paying attention to his surroundings. Out in the wilderness, such would never have happened. Failure to keep an eye out for venomous reptiles, scorpions, and large predators like the great cats, bears, and wolves, could result in a painful death. The difference was, until the arrow flew, he did not see his fellow human beings as threats, and that had changed. As he passed through the throng, dangerous was how he saw them, no matter who smiled or waved or shouted farewell wishes. They had been doing so before the attempted murder. Fileeman had spoken respectfully.
“Instructor, thanks be to the Creator you were not harmed,” voices in the crowd shouted out, and, “Jubal, we love you,” others added to the mix of remarks and expressions of regard and goodwill as he and his escorts walked along.
Often he would look a predator in the eyes and know before the animal moved exactly when it was about to leap at him. His gaze went from face to face in the same manner, scanning for any signs of imminent attack. Holding potential made him feel more confident, knowing he could send a beam at any would-be aggressor, and put a quick stop to their evil intents and purposes.
“I expected you to be angry,” Cassi remarked after a glance at his face. “But why do you suddenly look so sad?”
The multi-level pyramid-shaped home he and Vashti shared was just up ahead and Jubal hoped his love was still on the first floor where the school was located. Unlike the smooth-sided pyramid in his dream, the actual ones had many steps leading up to the cap stone. Perhaps under less disquieting circumstances he could discuss the difference with Imhotep, but Jubal could not afford to waste the time.
His and her offices were on the second level and they lived on the third. According to the schedule, she should be in the middle of teaching her class how to play their flutes. With every student being a Nephilim, it was doubtful anyone there would try to kill her. The knowledge gave him some comfort, but did not slow his steps. Fileeman was still on the loose.
“It is doubtful anyone there would try to kill her,” the thought echoed in his mind and then he remembered, “We employ a small group of Tinies to maintain the house and cook while we concentrate on our duties.”
His sister opened her mouth as if to ask the question again so he spared her the need. “I now must look at the people around me as possible threats, predators, even the people helping to maintain my house; a view I have never taken before Aaken made it necessary.”
“Good,” Cassi responded. “It will help us keep you alive.”
He did not blame her for taking the practical view rather than the emotional. It was his priorities that were being rearranged, not hers.
“We intend to keep you alive,” Anak stated firmly while waving his spear to its fullest extent, a warning to the onlookers to keep their distance. “We Weapocarns will take it in shifts. From today forward you will have at least two of us with you every time you leave the premises, one at each of the four entrances to your abode, and another will be stationed outside your bed chamber door.”
“I believe you are being a little over protective. I am the Instructor of Aakacarns and can, as recently demonstrated, defend myself and my home,” Jubal stated as he stepped foot on his threshold and paused. His eyes swept the crowd and even though many of them continued to greet him by name and by title, he was no longer certain of who among them could be trusted and who could not. “Even so, it will be as you say.”
“Another wise choice,” Anak stated and then opened the door.
“We would have posted guards outside even if you had refused to let us in,” Cassi made clear, “and any time you happened to go out, some of us would have happened to go in the same direction as you.”
She was determined, being a Seer and a Weapocarn with an attitude, what would be the point arguing with her? Such would be a waste of time, a commodity Kronos hated to see ill spent, and at the moment Jubal agreed with his older brother. A few moments could make the difference between life and death.
He hurried through the hall to Vashti’s classroom, threw the door open, and stopped dead in his tracks. Cassi bumped into him. “What is the matter?” She asked while peeking around his shoulder.
“Where is my wife?” He demanded of the twenty Nephilim, nine men and eleven women; all of whom were playing melodies, most of which had been composed by Jubal
They had visited the site of his former cabin and dug out the clay tablets from the oven. Each had one and was playing a different tune. The entire group was dressed in the mottled green and brown woolens of their profession; Weapocarns, which came as no surprise to him.
“She is back there in the relaxation room,” Romulus replied while pointing with his flute toward the door on the left.
“Why is he holding potential?” Dark and curly-haired Darieen asked the person next to her.
Her twin sister, Sapphira, lowered her instrument. “Who can say? But look at his face. I’m not going to be the one who asks him. He snapped an entire tree apart, easy as snapping a twig.”
Both hunters were part of the team led by Artemis an
d had faced lions with less trepidation.
Jubal barely registered the comments while covering the short distance. He bolted through the door quicker than Cassi or Anak could keep up. Sitting in a chair at the table was Vashti and coming up behind her, blade in hand, was Aricana the cook. Twin beams of light shot out, one from Jubal’s thumb the other from his pointer finger. His indigo hue enveloped the traitorous female, launching her up and back away from her intended victim.
She screamed in terror. It took most of his self-control to stop her head from slamming into the ceiling. She hung in the air, gray woolen robe down to her ankles, and feet bare. Her sandals dropped off half way up, such had been the speed at which he yanked her away. A single twitch of his thumb away from his finger would rip the young woman in half. He was angry, no doubt about it, but not enough to go completely mad. The sudden gushy display of tears would not stop him from turning her over to Nimrod for judgement. Hades might not be as firm in the sentencing.
“Jubal, what are you doing?” Vashti demanded, popping up from her chair. She glanced back and forth from the wailing woman to her husband.
“She was about to stab you with that knife in her hand,” Jubal replied, calmly, although his heart was still pounding. He had arrived barely in a nick of time.
Vashti eyed the knife and shook her head as if she still did not see the meat cutter as a threat. “There is a loose thread at the back of my gown. I asked her to cut it away.”
Jubal lowered Aricana to the floor, but kept her immobile. “Aaken just attempted to kill me, but succeeded in wounding Gemeena. He is part of a larger conspiracy to kill you and me and every Nephilim with a position of power in the new government. Nimrod has a new Aaka that will force a person to answer truthfully any question asked by the performer,” he went into greater detail with the idea of frightening Aricana. “Each person will give the names of everyone they know of who is involved. It will not take our chief administrator long to sort out all the plotters and have them brought to trial. Until I learn that new Melody, I don’t know who to trust or who will give me an answer I can know to be true. Aricana, you will be kept here and treated humanely until I learn the Aaka and can be absolutely sure you have no part in the conspiracy.”
Dawn Of The Aakacarns Page 20
