Fire and Flood

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by Dawn Morris


  When it was our turn, a minivan pulled up. Jannik, Noam, and I got into it along with a few other people. “I’ll see you there!” Tamas promised as he closed the door.

  “Where is ‘there?’” I asked.

  Our driver answered, “There is a place for us in Jordan called Petra.”

  Noam and Jannik started asking more questions and got into a conversation with the driver about our route. Since I had never heard of Petra and had no idea about where we were headed, I tuned them out and stared out of the window at the passing scenery.

  Tamas had told us that only a third of the Jewish nation would survive through the next three and a half years. I wondered about some of the people on the street as we passed by. Would they survive? What was going to happen next?

  FLOOD

  Chapter 26

  Put me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm: for love is as strong as death.

  Song of Songs 8:6

  Japheth was dead, and I was being held hostage. Nimrod feared retribution for Japheth’s death from Noah and the others who were loyal to the Creator, but he also felt proud and powerful to be holding one of the Mothers prisoner.

  The days turned to weeks. Weeks turned to months. Months to years. Nimrod had no intention of letting me go.

  At first, I was kept in the palace, under lock and key, only let out to walk in the extensive gardens around the palace, chaperoned by an armed guard. For a long time, I didn’t care. My heart was dead within me, and I mourned deeply for Japheth.

  Nimrod assigned one of the daughters of his chief bodyguard to serve me, Amalthai. She was a descendant of Shem, a kindly, young woman. Her long, blonde hair reminded me of Nua and her sister, Eritza, who had been murdered by the Magistrate’s men before the Flood.

  Gradually over the first year, I learned the language spoken by Nimrod and his people. It was not something I tried to do. In my misery over Japheth, all I wanted to do was relive every moment with him, but Amalthai established a routine for my days that kept me from completely turning myself over to grief.

  She woke me in the morning with a gentle greeting and made sure I ate something before getting a bath ready for me. Throughout the day, she would prattle on, lifting or pointing to objects and naming them for me, much like a mother with a young child learning to speak.

  After breakfast, it became my practice to sit in the garden beside a fountain. There I would sit in the shade of large fig tree and trace over my life with Japheth. Amalthai made sure I had water and a cloth to dry my tears and drawing materials.

  Instead of drawing animals, as I had in years past, I drew scenes from my life with Japheth. The bower he made for our wedding night. The room in the ark where we shared so many happy, loving moments. Our first child, Gomer, held in Japheth’s arms.

  Amalthai always wanted to see them. “Ariana, I feel like I’m right there on the ark with you and Japheth! I feel like I know him through these pictures!”

  Despite her kindness, I felt alone and isolated. Not only had my husband been murdered in front of me, I was kept from my children and grandchildren. I worried about all of them and wondered how they were . . . and where they were.

  When the Creator confused the language of men, many panicked, and there were misunderstandings that had led to violence. When I could understand her language, Amalthai told me what had happened that day in the city.

  “The city woke up with hundreds of new languages. Once they figured out what had happened, Nimrod sent a whole group of his soldiers who spoke our new language to divide the people according to the language they spoke. Many resisted leaving their homes, and the soldiers simply ran them through with their swords.”

  “How many died?” I asked, shocked at such an extreme act.

  “Almost five thousand. At least that is the official account. There are rumors it was much more. The next morning, Nimrod ordered everyone who didn’t share our language to leave, except those who were already close to him.”

  “So they learned the language like me, only not as prisoners.”

  One morning, Amalthai urged me to come along with her to the market.

  “But I’m not allowed out of the garden,” I reminded her.

  “I got permission from the king!” She smiled at me with pleasure, dancing around me laughing

  I shook my head at the lively beauty dancing in front of me and smiled.

  “I don’t know how to thank you, Amalthai. I’m so sick of being cooped up in here.” I ran to the bedroom and got dressed.

  When we left the palace, guards followed to make certain I would not escape, I walked close behind Amalthai. Her hair, cascading down her back, swung back and forth as she strode ahead of me, a great basket balanced on her head.

  I was surprised by how much the city had grown since I’d been imprisoned in Nimrod’s palace. New buildings stood just outside the palace grounds, two or three levels in height. I saw groups of men, miserably chained together, herded through the streets by Nimrod’s soldiers. Sorrowfully, I realized where he got his workforce. I recognized some of the men from my travels visiting family. One of them caught my eye—a tall, emaciated man. He bowed his head in respect before his elder, as had been the custom long before the languages were confused.

  Tears filled my eyes, and I moved toward him.

  One of the guards pushed me roughly as another barked a command. “Don’t talk to anyone else!” I fell to the ground.

  “What are you doing?” Amalthai screamed at the guards. She pulled me to my feet and wrapped me in her arms protectively. “This is one of the Mothers! You must show her respect, or I will personally tell the king of your vicious attack against his guest.”

  The guard laughed. “She’s a prisoner, not a guest, and I don’t care who she is,” he sneered.

  “Let me remind you that I am a favorite of Queen Semiramis. How do you think I got permission to take Ariana out of her chambers? Shall I turn around and tell her what you did?” She stared the guard down. He muttered and fell in behind us as we continued to the market.

  The marketplace was like nothing I had ever seen. We entered through a dark, arched passageway between two tall buildings and came to a gate. Amalthai greeted the guard there, and we were allowed to enter the large square into the market.

  Vendors displayed incredible varieties of items for sale: fruits and vegetables, cloths, pottery, jewelry, furniture—anything desirable was there. Although it was quite hot, the black and white striped cloths draped ingeniously across wooden frames throughout the square offered welcome shade.

  Overwhelmed by the crowds pushing past us, the babble of so many voices, and the thick, humid air, I grabbed Amalthai’s shoulder, feeling faint. She called for help as I began to collapse.

  A tall man rushed toward us and caught me in his arms.

  “Mother Ariana, sit here.” Gently, he helped me to my feet, speaking in my native tongue. He gestured to a man standing behind the table of fine linen where I had collapsed. “Find some cool water for her,” he ordered, switching back to Babylon’s language, obviously fluent in more than one language.

  My head was spinning, and darkness edged my line of sight as I looked up at him. He was a mirror image of Shem! Blinking my eyes, I realized this man was much younger than Shem and must be one of his great-grandsons. With difficulty, I asked him his name.

  “I am Terah, son of Nahor, of the lineage of Shem,” he answered in the language of Nimrod’s people so that Amalthai could be included in our conversation.

  So he was one of the descendants of Arpachshad, son of Shem. I wondered what he was doing in the city of Babylon.

  Amalthai put an arm around my shoulder and offered me some water the vendor had brought. After I drank, she passed the cup back to the man and, turning to Terah, offered her thanks for helping me.

  “It is only right to show respect to the Mothers and Fathers,” he humbly responded. “I knew who you were because I asked someone who the beautiful young woman was,
and I was told she served the Mother staying in Nimrod’s palace.”

  I noticed Amalthai’s pink cheeks grow darker.

  “Would you come visit us in the palace one day soon?” she offered. “I must take Mother Ariana back, but I am certain she would like to speak more with you. This has been a very difficult experience for her.” She finished her statement in a whisper, thinking I could not hear her, but neither my grief nor my age had affected my hearing. Amalthai meant well, so I was not offended.

  “I would be honored,” Terah said. “I have come here to be of service to the great king, Nimrod.”

  “Well, you must join us then! I, too, am from the house of Shem, of Joktan’s line. There are a few of our family here. My father is the king’s personal bodyguard.”

  They talked for a few minutes before we made our way back to the palace. Terah thoughtfully called for a litter, a chair attached to two wooden poles carried on the shoulders of two men. Servants would carry illustrious persons throughout the city on gilded plush chairs, while ordinary citizens could hire more simple conveyances for a modest fee. As soon as I was bundled into the wooden chair, we left the market and returned to the palace.

  I fell asleep for the remainder of the day, worn out by the heat and the crowd. I was overwhelmed by the strong resemblance it bore to the Magistrate’s city. There was the same spirit among the people. I had felt it in the palace, but in my solitude, I had not realized how pervasive evil was throughout Babylon. It made me sick.

  Later in the day, Amalthai patted my shoulder gently and woke me. “Mother, we are invited to dine with the king tonight. You must wake and get ready.” Reluctantly, I dragged myself from the haven of sleep and sat up in my bed. Light from the courtyard danced across the room. After bathing, Amalthai brushed and braided my hair.

  “Why am I suddenly allowed to go out? Suddenly invited to a banquet? Nimrod has had me locked up here as a prisoner for years, and now all of the sudden, I’m being treated like an honored guest?”

  Even though I couldn’t see her because she was standing behind me, I could feel her hesitation. “There have been rumors going around the city that you were being beaten and mistreated. The common people are already angry because the king has doubled their taxes, while giving the nobles a much more favorable rate.”

  “So instead of returning to the poor what’s rightfully theirs, he’s placating them by showing me off in public?” I was indignant.

  Amalthai tried to distract me. “Look at this, Mother.” She held out an elaborate golden headdress. “It’s a gift sent to you by the king himself.”

  “No, I won’t wear that,” I put the headdress back in her hands. “A simple braid is good enough.”

  Without a word, she simply braided my hair, wrapping the braids together in a loose coil at the back of my neck.

  “Queen Semiramis sent this gown for you, Mother Ariana.” Amalthai held up a deep red sheath. Diagonal rows of glittery multicolored beads were embroidered in layers across the front. I could see the asymmetrical dress would leave one arm bare while the other would be draped in a stately manner with more red fabric. I stared at its blood red color, unable to speak, and just shook my head.

  Amalthai stood before me, a confused expression on her face. She was dressed in a sheer brown asymmetrical sheath; the intricately laced cream colored shawl looped over it reminded me of a fisherman’s net. As was the style in the city, one arm and breast were bare. “Mother, this is a great honor,” she whispered.

  “Let Semiramis keep her honors. I will not wear that. The white gown you purchased for me in the marketplace a while back will do just fine.”

  Bowing her head respectfully, Amalthai took the red sheath out of my sight and came back a few moments later with the white gown.

  I put on the simple white gown and then picked up the yellow belt embroidered with wildflowers that Amalthai had purchased with it, weaving it around my waist from front to back before tying it together in the front with a simple knot.

  “Allow me to finish my hair, Mother, and we will leave for the banquet hall.” Amalthai crossed the room and moved through the doorway to her quarters, which joined mine. She returned shortly wearing a cap covering her head, formed with leaves of gold hanging down in layers from the top. Her blonde braids looked like vines growing from an exotic plant. By the standards of the court, her headdress was quite simple.

  “Shall we go?” she inquired, and we made our way to Nimrod’s banqueting hall.

  FIRE

  Chapter 27

  Then the woman fled into the wilderness, where she had a place prepared by God, so that there she would be nourished for one thousand two hundred sixty days.

  Revelation 12:6

  When I awoke, we were still driving and dawn was breaking. Streaks of pink and gold stretched across the sky, revealing desert on either side of us. I wiped my eyes with the inside of my shirt collar and noticed Jannik and Noam were asleep in front of me in the van. Noam snored softly.

  I stared at the back of Jannik’s head resting against the van window. Dark curls feathered around his neck. I was filled with a rush of tenderness. Besides Daphne, he was the only person who had ever shown me true kindness.

  I closed my eyes and let the years I passed on the Compound play in my mind. My earliest memory involved being beaten with one of Jack’s old shoes. I think I was four years old. My crime was not having opened a door quickly enough to let my mother in from the cold, Montana winter. It was the first memory I could recall but not the last. Not by far.

  The van swerved suddenly. Opening my eyes, I saw devastation all around us. Abandoned cars lined the roadway. The hillsides on either side bore the charred remains of bombed out homes. Some large buildings on my right were completely demolished.

  “What happened here?” I called out to the driver without thinking. He smiled at me in the mirror and patted the empty seat next to him. Carefully, so as not to disturb the others sleeping, I made my way along the narrow aisle to the front and sat in the passenger seat next to him.

  “We are in Jordan now, getting close to our destination. There were quite a few hotels and resorts here before. That’s what remains of them. The King of Jordan resisted the Global Union, and this destruction was part of the consequences. He still resists and continues to be inexplicably successful. He’s a thorn in President Bellomo’s side.”

  The driver was an older man, maybe in his sixties, white-haired and bearded. He glanced sideways at me for a moment and smiled. “My name is Asher. What is yours?”

  I hesitated. After what had happened the night before, I hesitated to lie. Asher leaned over and whispered, “What do you call yourself?”

  “Dani,” I whispered. “I call myself Dani.”

  Asher put his hand back on the steering wheel and looked forward. “Sometimes the most honest name is the one we call ourselves. My name just happened to be the most descriptive of me. So, I kept it.”

  “What does Asher mean?” I asked.

  “Lucky. Asher means lucky. I am a fortunate man, indeed!”

  He paused, slowing the van down. There were many cars ahead of us in the caravan. I saw red lights flashing ahead of us. “There must be something blocking the road,” Asher remarked as the van came to a stop.

  Panic rushed through me, and I looked around wildly, wondering where the attack would come from.

  “No worries, it’s just a broken-down truck. The road is narrow here, and the driver must not have been able to pull over. Those men will move it. No one comes out here anymore. It’s safe. Really.” He patted my hands again. I gripped his hand.

  “Are you sure?” I whispered, staring up at him. His blue eyes were bright and calm.

  “This whole area has been marked off limits to the Global Union by the Jordanian government. It is set apart for us, those who believe in God!”

  “How?”

  “After the Vanishing, but way before Israel signed on to join the Global Union in a seven-year peace treaty,
several countries began to attack Israel: Russia, Turkey, and Iran. But God Himself destroyed all the armies. It was an incredible thing that made the whole world pay attention. Israel did not so much as fire a weapon. Instead, the invading armies turned on each other. It was like something in the Tanakh. In fact, it was something the prophet Ezekiel predicted exactly, many thousands of years ago.”

  “What’s that?” I asked, turning in my seat so I could see Asher better.

  “The Tanakh is what Jews call the Old Testament,” he answered. One of the uniformed men on the road motioned us to move forward, and Asher skillfully navigated around the disabled truck.

  “That event—when Israel won the war without so much as firing a single shot—made many people all around the world believe in God. The King of Jordan was one of them. And when he studied more of the prophecies in the Bible, he learned that it had also been predicted that Israel would find refuge here in Jordan, in Petra. He’s fought ever since to keep this land from the control of the Global Union.”

  Asher was a natural storyteller. His deep voice and accent were gripping.

  “What about the “judgments,” and the creatures and natural disasters?” I asked, thinking about all the devastation I’d seen since I left the Compound. “Is this place protected like the Global Union cities?” I thought of Jerusalem, Creston, and the other cities controlled by the Global Union.

  “We are protected by God. Those places are under President Bellomo’s protection for now, but his power is failing, and soon, even those places will experience God’s wrath. Except in the place God has prepared for us.”

 

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