Jubal did not like the sound of that. Nimrod would never stand for such a thing.
“Half of my tribe will go for the sake of my daughter, who will be queen,” Canaan stated, shaking his head, as if he was deeply disappointed. Days earlier the hypocrite had told his daughter how proud he was of her.
“Semiramis is a Nephilim and is part of the problem,” a red-faced man on the other side of the table gave his opinion.
“Jarim is correct,” Aram spoke up. “She and all of the Nephilim are the problem. They have always been arrogant, but their magic has taken the unbecoming trait to mountainous heights.”
Jubal could not believe his ears. It was the same man who a few days earlier spoke of how much the wielding of potential had improved the way of life for everyone. “He said I was a blessing to all mankind,” Jubal mumbled, earning an elbow in the ribs from Andromeda.
It was then Canaan noticed the approach of a fellow elder being escorted by a quartet of Weapocarns. “What brings the brother of my good friend, Aram, to my humble home?’
Arie raised his hand, signaling for everyone behind him to stay put, and then stepped up to the table. “I have come to join the conversation.”
Magog eyed the newcomer suspiciously. “I invited you months ago, about the time you returned with the caravan. You had no interest in what I had to say.”
Aram nodded. “His words are true, I also approached you. What has changed to bring you to us now and with an escort?”
Arphaxad stroked his beard and then folded his hands together. “The number of fights breaking out over unsubstantiated rumors, the discontent bubbling under the surface like a pot about to boil over, and the appearance of swords in the hands of men; these speak to me of violence, possibly leading to bloodshed, and the need for extra protection. I am here in the hopes of avoiding riots in the streets.”
Canaan stood up and extended his hand. “Then you have come to the right place. We too have that same goal. Sit and we shall talk of solution, solutions that begin when the Nephilim and their adherents move to their new city.”
Arie shook hands and a place was made for him at the table on the other side of Magog. “You do realize a good many of your descendants actually want to be protected and provided for by the Aakacarns?” Arphaxad told the son of Japheth.
The tribal chief nodded. “I exaggerated about all of my tribe not going with the Nephilim.”
“The demon spawn are impressive and can make crops grow and who knows what else Nimrod and his devious developer of dark magic might learn to do,” the original speaker commented from his seat on the other side of the table.
“Cazzhe, you have spoken truly,” Canaan agreed with the hateful little man, the father of Japen.
Jubal recognized the name but not the face. Knowing who the angry fellow was went a long way in explaining the attitude.
“He has in deed,” Magog affirmed his agreement. “The Aakasear and the Instructor of Aakacarns are talented and extremely powerful. Each day it seems they advance their art to a higher level and many of their spells actually are beneficial. They are making life easier for the masses and so fewer people want to go back to the old ways.”
“Do not forget, popularity,” Aram added his bit to the conversation. “The wonders the pair are working has caused them to be held in high esteem.”
“Which makes them impossible to remove,” Canaan finally arrived at a correct conclusion.
Arie cleared his throat, drawing attention. “I am a little confused. On the one hand you seem to be of the opinion the Nephilim are a curse we would be well rid of and on the other, full of wonders and innovations people do not want to live without.”
“Brother you have put your finger on the problem,” Aram answered him. “Most of the people see the Aakacarns as a blessing, but a sizable number have the opposite view. We are representing the group who want to live free of the Nephilim.”
Jubal stood staring at his duplicitous brother, who fed both sides of the argument. The man was sowing discord so he could slice off a piece of Roddy’s authority and make it his own. The leaders seated at the table did not want to give up their power. They could not openly fight and so chose to glean as many followers as possible before the exodus. Nimrod would not be pleased when he found out about the plot, especially with his father-in-law being one of the chief conspirators.
Arie nodded his understanding. “I see, thank you for clearing that up. Has it occurred to anyone what would happen if Nimrod or Jubal were to catch wind of your plan to syphon off followers by stirring up trouble and then go your own way?”
“Jubal!” Cazzhe repeated the name, spittle flying out of his mouth. “That monster needs to be called to account.”
Canaan raised his hand in a calming gesture. “We will get to that,” he said and then turned to Arie. “My spies are watching every step taken by Chief Administrator Nimrod and Instructor Jubal. Whenever either of them leaves their home, I know about it. Unless you intend to inform them, they will have no way of knowing our plans.”
“It would be unwise to reveal what we have been discussing here today.” Magog did not even try to keep the threat out of his voice, even knowing four Weapocarns were within hearing distance.
Arie nodded. “Whatever Jubal learns of this he will learn from your own lips; that I assure you. Speaking of him, for what should he be called to account?”
Cazzhe sprang to his feet. “His dark magic killed my son!”
Jubal took one step forward, determined to set the record straight, but Cassiopeia placed a restraining hand on his shoulder. “Arphaxad will handle it,” she spoke soft as a breath. Jubal held back but had difficulty containing his growing irritation.
Arie looked his brother and fellow tribal leader in the eyes. “Are you going to explain or shall I?”
Aram frowned, clearly not pleased over being drawn into the dispute, but after a few moments of indecision, nodded affirmatively. “Japen died when he grabbed a baton and cast a spell at Jubal. The action drained the life out of him, not my youngest brother.”
At least he had the decency to state that much, Jubal had not known what would come out of his mouth, but had not expected the truth after listening to the earlier conversation.
“Your brother made the device, so he is responsible,” Cazzhe gave an absurd response.
“He has a point,” Magog actually encourage the stupid thinking. “If Jubal had not invented the producers in the first place, Japen would be alive today.”
Jubal felt Cassiopeia’s hand tighten on his bicep as if she thought he was about to act. He was certainly on the verge of doing so.
“Is Tubal, our great craftsman, responsible every time a careless person is cut by one of the blades he forged?” Arie asked a reasonable question.
“Yes!” Cazzhe shouted, but everyone else was shaking their heads.
“Japen’s death was caused by a mistake in judgment, not Jubal,” Canaan actually and surprisingly rendered a just verdict. “However, the Instructor and Nimrod need to be kept busy so they cannot learn about or interfere with our plans.”
“Busy, how?” Arie demanded to know.
“We will continue to sow discord among the people,” Magog answered right back. “Do you have a problem with that?”
The fool intended to tear the community apart, causing injury and death to who knew how many!
Enough stupidity, it was time to act.
“I am sure he does, but worse for you is that I do.” Jubal stepped up to the table. “Don’t bother reaching for your knives. I could smite each and every one of you in the blink of an eye.” Cassi had been pulled along with him, but wisely kept silent.
“You tricked us!” Magog shouted while pointing an accusing finger at Arphaxad.
The Aaka, Lightning Strike, was playing in Jubal’s mind, and he sent a crackling-jagged streak of light from his finger to the center of the table, causing everyone to jerk back and away from the explosive spark. Smoke wafted up fro
m the flash burn on the wooden surface.
The Melody differed from Lightning Bolt, which could only draw half a bolt of potential, whereas Lighting Strike was variable and dangerous, able to draw all of his three bolts of potential, should Jubal will it to be so.
“You would not dare strike an elder, a tribal leader,” Canaan stated boldly while most everyone else was cringing in their chairs. He certainly had courage.
“You would be surprised at what I would dare to do, sometimes I even surprise myself. As fair warning, I strongly advise every one of you to remain seated,” Jubal replied. “I am not your judge, nor do I want to be. However, you have succeeded in making me angry with all your talk of sowing discord, me being a man who loves harmony.”
“Calm down, Jubal. You don’t want to hurt anyone,” Cassi tried to intervene.
He wanted to smite something and discharging a tiny fraction of Lightning Bolt simply did not fill the need. “That is where you are wrong, dear sister. I do want to hurt all of them.”
“What are you going to do?” Aram dared to ask. The man did not have the decency to be ashamed of his part in the plot, but he clearly cared about his safety.
Jubal eyed the gathering, noting the looks of mortal terror on most of the faces. Magog and Canaan were not afraid; they were angry, but smart enough not to provoke another blast of lightning. All it would take was one full power strike and the table and everyone around it would be burnt to ashes. The blast might even result in a crater being formed; for certain if he focused the power through his ring.
Jubal placed a Da Capo on Lightning Strike so he could focus the Aaka should the need arise, and then summoned the potential for a Melody suitable for the occasion. “What am I going to do, you ask? Well, Canaan is correct, I am not going to kill any of you, easy as that would be to accomplish. No, I am going to have you all wait here while I report this matter to Nimrod. He will be your judge, not I. You can ask Cassiopeia, I have a tendency to be too soft hearted in these matters, the chief administrator does not have that problem.”
His sister was nodding her head with the assertion, but then she opened her mouth. “Jubal, if you turn them over to Nimrod he will be forced to publically try men who are revered by their tribes. I am actually afraid of the consequences a guilty verdict would trigger. There might even be bloodshed.”
Jubal shook his head, trying not to think about it. He was right to side with his friend. The matter was something Roddy needed to know about and put a stop to. “Most of these men are better than a century older than me and therefore had to understand from the start that planting discord would lead to bloodshed. They are the ones who chose this course and flood it all you want to lay the consequences of their actions on me? Well, they created the mess and now I will see it cleaned up by the person who has been chosen as our leader.” The curse word popped out in the middle of his rant, a reflection of his annoyance.
Canaan took the risk of standing up. “Chosen to be our leader by whom?”
Jubal opened his mouth to reply and then shut it. The authority came from Noah and Vivian. The person chosen to rule had been decided in an agreement cobbled together by Nimrod, Ra, Zeus, Oden, and other leading Nephilim. That agreement was later challenged by Ra with the Aakasear emerging as leader over all Aakacarns. The Anakim and Tinies had not been consulted at any point.
Jubal hated politics and these people landed him square in the middle of a political mess and they were trying to confuse him. The malcontents were deceivers and rabble rousers. “That was a good question, one you should have brought up with the other elders and ancients. You regularly give advice to the chief administrator, other administrators, and judges, and could have mentioned the issue. Instead you chose to sneak around using lies and schemes to further your own ambitions. Even if I can sympathize with the fact you were given no say in who leads mankind going forward, I cannot allow you to continue sowing discord. You and the men at this gathering are the reason the Weapocarns are having a difficult time keeping the peace. I am going to turn you over to Nimrod for judgement and this discussion is over.”
“Who are you to say when it is over?” Magog demanded, allowing his temper to get the best of him, and obviously confident his being a tribal leader would keep him from being zapped to a cinder.
Jubal imagined having the quills of a porcupine and sent beams of light from his body, striking each member of the gathering, and then levitated them ten feet above the table. “I have added a Da Capo and you will all remain just as you are until I decide otherwise. Surely you did not believe I would expect you to wait around for the authorities to arrive.”
“You cannot do this to me, to us,” Aram protested.
“I already have,” Jubal replied and then walked off the premises. The guard wisely did not interfere.
Arie was smart enough to leave with Jubal and his escort, but they continued to yap at him about what he should and should not do. He finally came to a stop. “Cassi, what do you want me to do? Should I allow them to continue causing trouble?”
“No, it just the fact that this situation scares me,” she admitted.
Jubal was still irritated and was having difficulty being sympathetic, but managed to even his tone. “Is the bloodshed you spoke of back there part of a vision?”
She shook her head. “You know, I could lie and say that it was, and you are so trusting you would believe me, but I cannot. No, I have had no visions related to what we just learned. Unless, the fact that I have had none means you are not going to turn the matter over to Nimrod.”
Jubal began rubbing his eyes with his thumb and pointer finger. “Cassi, you are making my head hurt.”
She continued to speak but he paid no attention to what was being said by her or the others when they chimed in. His mental isolation lasted the rest of the way out of the area belonging to the people of Canaan. “I guess it was a good thing our paths did cross,” he told his brother just as they were about to part ways.
“I still am not sure what they would have done to me and am glad not to have found out. While I understand the reason for their discontent, I, like you, cannot agree with their methods. Although, Cassiopeia is correct, the arrest of these men is going to cause trouble, possibly more discord than they intended to sow,” he paused when a chuckle escaped. “You certainly brought their meeting to a halt and placed them in a bind from which they cannot extricate themselves. How long are you going to keep them hanging there?”
“He will release them when I tell him to do so,” a familiar voice suddenly came from behind.
Jubal spun around. Andromeda had her knife poised to stab. Anak took one look at the speaker and halted the spear in mid-swing. Cassi placed her arrow back in the quiver.
Ancient eyes stared out of an ageless face and were the color of a cloudless sky at noonday. He evidently had a contrary message to share. “The mass dispersion will come one way or another. Mankind is meant to fill the earth and not all of them will be ruled by the Nephilim.”
Jubal did not want to argue with the priest. “What does that have to do with my releasing those men? The exodus Roddy is planning will be happening soon, does that not count as a mass movement?”
“You have been informed of the imperative. Mankind is to go fill the earth and you will play a role in the going. Semidon is only the first step, not the final. These men are not the only people who will develop a desire to go their own way.”
“What are you saying? How many plots are there against the government?” Jubal could not keep the frustration out of his voice. “You are a priest. You cannot be on the side of men who sow discord.”
Mel waved the statement aside with a sweep of his hand. “I do not condone their methods or selfish motives, but am asking you not to turn this matter over to Nimrod. The harder he tries to hold people under his thumb, the harder they will try to break away.”
Jubal was conflicted, never before did he have to choose between honoring the priest and his loyalty to Roddy.
“If I know of such plots and do not inform him, he will see the withholding as a betrayal.”
“I will have a word with Canaan and his fellow plotters. They will cease to cause trouble. There will be nothing for you to withhold from your friend. How can that be a betrayal?”
It was difficult to argue with the man. “If you can convince them to cease and desist, I will let them go and hold off bringing the matter to Nimrod. But if I learn they have gone back to their nefarious activities, nothing and no one will stop me from bringing them to justice.”
Mel nodded his agreement. “I ask one more thing,”
Jubal wanted to go home and was not in the mood to grant favors, but decided to grant one anyway. “What can I do for you?”
“Keep the men where they are for seven days and then I will go to them. At that point I believe they will agree to just about anything I propose. Afterward, I will send word and you can release them.”
“That should make them amendable,” Anak clearly approved of the idea.
Jubal’s frustration began to evaporate. “What if they refuse to listen to you?”
Mel shrugged his shoulders. “I would ask you to give them another perspective, say a thousand paces higher.”
Cassi and Andromeda could not contain their mirth, they both nearly doubled over with laughter.
Jubal found he was smiling at the thought, until he remembered the duplicity of the men in question. “I hope your plan works, because if the higher perspective does not convince them, I will remove the Da Capos and let them fall. You tell them so.”
Mel nodded and walked away.
“Would you really drop them to their deaths, even Aram?” Cassi asked after they resumed walking.
“Maybe,” Jubal replied. “And the fact that I’m not sure should scare them, because it scares me.”
-----
Seven days later Jubal was sitting at the desk in his study and observing the hawk Hermes captured for him. The bird in the cage would soon be released unharmed back into the wild, but for the time being Jubal wanted to learn all he could about the raptor. He had mastered becoming a bear, a horse, and a griffin. Roddy had been pleased by the progress. The son of Zeus was happy over losing the bet, meaning he was thrilled over mastering Shaping Wood while his instructor still had a long way to go with Metamorphosis. Jubal could hold those forms for hours if he wanted to, so long as he did not fall asleep or a matter requiring his full concentration did not cause a distraction, but becoming a hawk eluded him.
Dawn Of The Aakacarns Page 33
