by Tim Chaffey
Noah kissed the top of her head. “No. We’re going to find answers. If we discover that Lamech is truly to blame, we need to protect others from being hurt or killed by him — his crime must be punished. We’re also getting Garun’s family to safety. It’s just your fears coming out while you’re sleeping.”
“I guess you’re right. But, Noah” — she grabbed his hand and placed it on the growing bulge in her midsection — “I want you to promise you’ll be careful. This baby becomes more real to me each day. There are times when I think I can feel her inside of me, moving around. And we need you.” Her gaze found his. “Even if it was just a dream, we know Havil is a wicked place. I have a terrible feeling that something evil grows there. And it’s seen us.”
He moved to wrap her in an embrace, but he didn’t try to reassure her again. Instead, she felt his stubble scrape her ear as he nodded. “I know.”
He shifted so they were both lying on the narrow bed, with her head nestled on his chest and his hand on her belly. For a long time they were silent, allowing the fear to dissipate into the darkness and peace to return.
Noah’s chuckle rumbled under her ear. “Her, huh?”
Emzara smiled. “Well, I have no way of really knowing. I just keep thinking of this baby as a girl.” She looked up at him. “I kind of like the name Tera.”
Chapter 16
This is probably my favorite part of the journey,” Noah said as he watched the waves crash into the shore hundreds of cubits away.
“Sitting and staring at the water?” Tubal-Cain asked. “Looks pretty boring to me.”
Noah yawned and pointed at a small gap in the distant forest. “See that opening there?”
“Between the trees?”
“Yeah.”
Tubal-Cain slid a crate along the deck and sat on it next to Noah. “What’s so exciting about that?”
“There’s a small river flowing through there.” Noah shifted in his seat to face his friend. “I like to imagine what it’d be like to travel up that waterway with Em and do some exploring. Do any people live there? If so, what are they like? What animals live in the forests? Em would love to discover new creatures. And what about those hills way back there? Is that where the river starts?”
“You know what I think about when I see those hills?”
“The metals you might find there?” Noah asked.
“Exactly.”
Noah snorted. “Your musings aren’t as exciting as mine.”
“Maybe not to you.” Tubal-Cain leaned back on his hands. “Since you like sitting and thinking so much, I’ve got a serious question for you.”
Feeling the prick of exhaustion behind his eyes, Noah longed to head below deck and fall asleep next to Emzara, but he already expected very little rest on this secret mission. Emzara and Tubal-Cain assisted in the seafaring responsibilities where they could, but they relied upon Noah’s growing expertise to captain the vessel. Yet, despite the somber cause for their voyage and the long days and nights, he had largely enjoyed the first 12 days of the trip.
“Okay, just a moment.” Noah pretended to write something on the large scroll spread out on a bin to his left.
“What are you writing?”
He glanced at the map. “I’m adding details about those hills. It says, ‘Tubal-Cain’s metals’ right there.” Noah tapped the page.
Tubal-Cain stretched his neck to see and chuckled, his amusement spreading to form laugh lines around his eyes. “No, you didn’t.”
Noah smirked. “I’ve just been updating it from our previous trips. There are still some blank areas because we’ve sailed past them at night.” Noah rolled up the map and wrapped a string around it. “What did you want to ask me?”
Tubal-Cain scratched behind his ear. “Do you think we’ll ever see them again?”
“Those hills?”
“No.” Tubal-Cain shook his head. “Aterre and Ara.”
Noah’s smile disappeared.
“I mean, do you think there’s more than this?” The blacksmith waved his arm from left to right, indicating the whole world.
Noah watched the mildly undulating water distort his long, early morning shadow, enjoying the light, cool breeze as it passed through his unkempt hair. He sighed and stretched a hand out toward Tubal-Cain. “What do you think?”
“I’d like to assume there’s something after this life. Some of the older people in our city say we were made from the ground, just like the people of Iri Geshem believe. But they say that we return to the ground and that’s it.”
“They think the person just ceases to exist?” Noah asked.
“Some of them do.”
Noah tilted his head. “That might explain why so many people in your city live the way they do.”
Furrowing his brow, Tubal-Cain asked, “What do you mean?”
“Well, think about it. If this life is all we have — if there’s nothing after it — then you may as well live however you want. Seek pleasure and power, instead of serving the Creator and helping others.”
“I can see what you’re saying, but I think you’re overstating it a bit.” Tubal-Cain looked up and squinted. “Some of those people are very kind to others. They don’t just live for pleasure and power.”
“Hmm.” Noah rested his chin on his fist. “I guess I could argue that they desire to have others think well of them and that’s selfish, but I’d rather not judge their motives, particularly since I don’t know them.”
“Well, that’s good. I’d hate to think you pretend to know everyone’s motives.” Tubal-Cain stared across the water. “After all, couldn’t someone turn it around on you and say that you serve the Creator for selfish reasons too — that you’re hoping to somehow get His favor?”
“I guess it could look like that from someone else’s point of view,” Noah said. “But the main reason I serve the Creator is to thank Him for giving me life.”
“I can see that, but we’re getting away from my initial question. What do you think happens after death, if anything?”
Noah slowly drew in a breath. “I’m not really sure. I’ve heard several ideas about it.”
“Like what?” Tubal-Cain leaned forward.
“Well, remember the Zakari people I told you about?”
“The ones whose children were kidnapped?”
Noah nodded. “Their elder told me that the people who stole their kids, the people from Bothar, practiced the dark arts. They tried contacting spirits, either people who had already died or some other kind of spiritual being.”
“So if they contacted the spirits of people who had died, does that mean after death we just roam around the earth and no one can see us?” Tubal-Cain scratched the prickly growth on his face, which seemed to be growing in twice as fast as Noah’s attempt at a beard. “Doing what?”
“I’m not sure — waiting to give advice to those who contact them?” Noah shrugged a shoulder. “I guess that’s what the people of Bothar believed.”
Tubal-Cain drew back. “That’s really weird. What did you mean about the other kind of spiritual being?”
“Garun told me . . .” Noah stopped and quickly regretted mentioning his earlier conversation with the king’s guard.
“Told you what?”
Noah shook his head. “Never mind.”
Tubal-Cain crossed his arms. “No, not never mind. Tell me.”
Pulling a tiny sliver of wood from the rail above the hull, Noah said, “I’d rather not.”
“It’s about my sister, isn’t it?”
Noah slowly turned and nodded.
The distinct clinking and scraping of copper and silver reached Noah’s ears as Tubal-Cain fidgeted with the leather money pouch that hung from his belt. “Just tell me.”
“Garun told me that he’s heard her mentor — they call him a seer — telling her about the spirits that he communicates with. The seer told her that the Creator is just one of many spiritual entities. Originally, He made the world that we see and another
realm that we cannot see — one that’s inhabited by spirits or gods. The Creator was the most powerful spiritual being.” A frown grew on Noah’s face. “But as time went on, and as more people turned away from Him, other gods, like Nachash, turned against Him and became stronger. Apparently, this seer thinks that Nachash is now the most powerful, or that he can become the most powerful spirit if he has the most followers.”
“Do you think she buys into that?” Tubal-Cain asked.
Noah let out a deep breath and spoke softly. “I have a feeling that she’ll believe it if it means more power.”
Tubal-Cain’s forearm bulged as he tightened his grip on the leather bag. “And do you think these spirits actually exist? Besides the Creator, of course.”
“Garun thinks they’re real because the seer knows things that he shouldn’t be able to know. He didn’t give me any examples, so I’m not entirely sure what he meant.”
“And do you believe that Nachash is becoming more powerful than the Creator?” Tubal-Cain asked, his dark, heavy eyebrows nearing each other.
“I sure hope that isn’t happening.” Noah lowered his face into his hands and massaged his forehead. “I guess I can see how it might look like that, especially to people in Havil, who think that the city’s become so grand because they follow Nachash. But it doesn’t really make sense to me that one of these spirits could become more powerful than its Maker. If the Most High created these spirits, then it seems like He could just as easily destroy them.”
“That makes sense, but we got off subject again.” Tubal-Cain huffed and pointed to Noah. “What do you believe happens when we die?”
Noah thought back to childhood conversations with his father. “I’ve always believed that the Creator will reward those who faithfully serve Him.”
“What sort of reward?”
“My guess is that we’ll get to live with Him.”
“As spirits?” Tubal-Cain said. “Obviously, our body remains here.”
Noah raised his gaze to the sky. “I’m not sure. I think we’ll have some sort of body.”
“Really? Why?”
Noah chuckled. “You ask a lot of questions.” He faced his friend. “My grandfather’s father was a man who walked closely with the Most High. He used to warn people that the Creator was going to come to earth someday and judge the wicked people.”
Tubal-Cain smirked. “My father said that where he grew up, there was a man like that who visited the city several times, and many of the people mocked him for his rants. As my father told it, this man would walk through town and shout about the coming judgment that never came.” A grin spread on his face. “Everyone made up labels for him. They didn’t want to use his real name because it was the same as the name of the city, and they didn’t want to be associated with him.”
Noah looked at Tubal-Cain, then the ship’s deck, and then back at his friend. “Wait. Your father is from the land of Nod, the city of Enoch, right?”
“Yes.”
One side of Noah’s mouth turned up slightly. “That’s the name of my grandfather’s father.”
Tubal-Cain’s smile disappeared rapidly. “You mean, the man who warned the city of Enoch about judgment . . .”
“Is my grandfather’s father.” Noah nodded.
“Forgive me. I didn’t mean to disrespect your family.”
“You were just repeating what your father told you. I know you wouldn’t intentionally say something bad about my family.”
“Nah, just you.” Tubal-Cain slapped Noah’s shoulder and laughed. “So why did you bring up your grandfather’s father in the first place?”
“He decided to visit the land of Eden with Berit, my father’s —”
“The cursed land?” Tubal-Cain held up both palms. “Sorry, interrupting again.”
Noah smiled at his large muscular friend apologizing like a child. “You’ve heard the rumors, too. Well, I think this might be why they started.” Noah adjusted his wrap to cover his shoulder. “As they approached the land, Enoch simply disappeared.”
“What do you mean ‘disappeared’?” Tubal-Cain asked. “Did he wander off and become lost?”
Noah shook his head. “No, I mean he vanished. One moment he was walking with Berit, and the next moment” — Noah snapped his fingers — “he was gone.”
Tubal-Cain stared through wide eyes.
“My father believes God just took him from the earth.”
“Why?”
“Our best guess is so that he wouldn’t have to face any more of the evils in this world.”
“And because of that, you think he’s living with the Creator and that we may live with Him after we die?”
“That’s right.”
“And since his body was taken too, you think that we may have some sort of body when we’re with the Creator?”
Noah shrugged. “Like I said before, it’s my best guess.”
Tubal-Cain sat up straight. “Well, it makes sense to me, and I like it.”
“You do?”
“Of course. It would mean that Aterre and Ara are with the Creator right now.”
Noah nodded and forced a tight smile. “I like it even more now.”
An anguished cry came from below deck, and Noah tensed and spun toward the opening. “Em?”
He hurried to the stairs and made his way down to the low-ceilinged quarters under the deck. Ducking to avoid crossbeams, Noah blinked several times, trying to force his eyes to adjust to the dark quarters lit only by an oil lamp affixed to a nearby shelf. “Em, what’s wrong? Where are you?”
There was no figure on the bed, only tousled blankets. A low moan emanated from the foot of the knee-high cot. As he rushed there, Noah’s breath caught at the sight of his wife huddled on the floor.
“Em . . .”
Emzara rocked quietly back and forth. Her ebony curls clung to her cheeks. Her long lashes were pinched between her tightly closed eyelids. Even in her discomfort, her beauty gripped Noah’s heart. Another subdued moan escaped from her. Her leg violently shot out and she gripped the base of the bed as if in extreme pain. He rushed to her side. Her labored breathing worried him. “Em, what’s going on?”
She grabbed his hand with her free hand and for a few moments squeezed with a grip he did not know she possessed. Pain surged through his fingers, reminding him of one of Toman’s intense greetings. “Em?”
Suddenly her features relaxed. She released her grasp and reclined against the wall, limp.
Is she dead? The thought vanished as instantly as it came to mind when she took a deep, shaky breath. Noah breathed a sigh of relief.
“I . . .” She held up a bloodied cloth. Combined with Em’s pain and heavy breathing, the pieces came together. He had been only a boy when his second sibling was born too early, but he remembered the day vividly. It was not until the birth of Misha a few years later that the light in his mother’s eyes finally came back. But the unknown child was never forgotten.
Returning to the needs in front of him, he held Emzara tenderly as she sobbed. Then together they wept over yet another loss.
Chapter 17
Land of Havilah — Noah’s 49th year
Holding a bag of supplies in his right hand and with his left gripping one end of a large basket stuffed with clothing, Noah trudged through the shallow water with Tubal-Cain, who held the other end of the oversized container. As they neared the shore, Noah handed Emzara the sack. “I think this is the last of the items that we’ll need for now.”
Emzara placed the bag on top of a small crate on the beach and arched her back. Silently she took in their surroundings.
Needing a rest after three trips from the boat, Noah walked toward his wife and placed a hand on her shoulder as he took in the clean, glimmering sand and listened to the water gently lapping the shore.
She shrugged off his caress. “Leave me be.”
Sighing, he turned and went to sit on the sand beside Tubal-Cain, facing the sea. Noah couldn’t resist feasting
his gaze on the display of God’s creation before him. “It’s very beautiful.” Enticed, he stretched a foot back into the refreshing liquid.
“Indeed. I spent a lot of time in this water as a child.” Tubal-Cain tilted his head toward the nearby woods. “I used to find the slimiest creatures under rocks or logs in that forest, and then I’d put them in my sister’s hair.”
Despite his revulsion of Naamah as an adult, Noah tried picturing her as a young child like Misha, and struggled to stifle a laugh. “I’m sure she loved that.”
“She squealed like a baby, and I’d get in trouble every time.” Tubal-Cain leaned back on his hands and chuckled. “It was worth it.”
Noah watched Emzara from the corner of his eye to see how she would react to the discussion about Naamah, but she never flinched. She remained the stoic shell of herself that she had become in the past few weeks. A band of longing tightened around Noah’s heart, and he ached to see her usual good humor and ready smile return. Losing her first child would have been difficult enough, but going through it just weeks after losing her father and close friend had been nearly unbearable. Surprised by her lack of tears in the first few days after the loss of their baby, Noah did his best to comfort her. But her demeanor eventually shifted from plain apathy to occasional outbursts of exasperation. While he didn’t like that she vented her anger at him, at least she came alive during those moments. In between these explosions of anger, she retreated. Not sure what to do, Noah eventually stopped trying to console her, and she rarely spoke to him. Privately, he wondered if she blamed him for everything.
He sighed and watched the boat, anchored about 50 cubits away, as it bobbed softly on the surface. The broad-leafed trees of the forest lined both sides of the narrow lagoon. Noah recognized most of them, but he spotted a couple that seemed foreign to him. I’ll have to check those out with Em. He let out a sigh, realizing the futility of that now. Colorful flowers topped low-lying plants near the water’s edge, their cheery petals a marked contrast from how he felt. A variety of animal chirps and clicks called out through the still morning air. “It’s a good thing we arrived at this point during the daylight, or I fear we may have sailed right past that little inlet.”
