Noah Primeval (Chronicles of the Nephilim)

by Brian Godawa

  Emzara’s pregnancy was beginning to show. She knew she had little time if she wanted to escape this comfortable prison before her child was born and given up to false gods. She ran through all the possibilities in her head. She could hide out in a trading caravan leaving the city. But those were extensively searched for just that reason. So many slaves had tried to run away that the guards had become quite skilled in the art of uncovering stowaways. That was a sure path to a flogging. Many had died from the wounds of that punishment.

  And what if she did get out of the city? Where would she go? She had no idea where Noah might be. She would be easy prey for the predators of the desert, both animal and human. She could not do it on her own. She needed help. But who could she trust? Alittum had become much more agreeable in recent weeks. She knew she was a threat to the Chief Maidservant because Lugalanu obviously favored her. But Emzara had fought so hard to affirm Alittum’s station and defer her own that it appeared to calm Alittum of her fears.

  It had occurred to Emzara that perhaps she should prepare for the kind of opportunity that she did not anticipate, such as the attempt of her husband to rescue her. She had been taught the basic plan of servants’ access throughout the temple district, but she knew there was a network of more secret passageways. Only a select few of the leadership, like Alittum, knew the details of those hidden ways. If Emzara could learn those networks, she might be ready should an opportunity present itself.

  But then her heart went sick. Her beloved Noah did not even know she was alive. As far as he knew, she was dead along with all their tribe. Even if he was not sure she was dead, how could he possibly discover her whereabouts in the very heart of darkness in Erech? And even if he could discover that, what difference would it make when he was being hunted by a band of assassin Nephilim? They were so skilled he would not stand a chance against them. He would need a guardian archangel for even a shekel of hope. She fought the impulse to cry. He was probably already dead. She prayed to Elohim instead.

  When she finished praying, she felt more at ease. Prayers always took her mind off herself and her impossibilities and onto Elohim and His possibilities. She got up to return to her staff duties. A thought suddenly struck her. Whether Noah was dead or alive, whether he would save her or not, she should begin to think of others and not just herself. It might not be to her advantage to seek escape, but it might be to the advantage of others; those who were the sexual slaves of the temple and palace, those who were beaten so badly they preferred to die in the wilderness seeking freedom in death to their own hell on earth. If she could learn the network of secret passageways, she might be able to establish a pathway to freedom for other slaves. She could become the means of redemption for others, a redemption that she could not achieve for herself.

  It was surely the providence of Elohim when, the very next day, Alittum approached Emzara and asked to speak to her in private.

  “Nindannum, how is your health?” asked Alittum.

  “I am well, thank you,” replied Emzara, holding her womb affectionately.

  It struck Alittum that Nindannum displayed no signs of trouble. Surely, the Lamashtu demoness would have done something by now, even if just to harass her victim. Alittum would have to consult the sorceress as soon as she had some time. She brightened her countenance. “It is no secret that I have not treated you as you have deserved these past months,” said Alittum. “I have been intimidated by your poise and presence. But now I see that you are a woman of true character and virtue, and I want to apologize for my inappropriateness, my impatience and shortness with you.”

  Emzara was shocked. She did not know what to say. “Alittum, I bear no complaint. I have nothing but gratitude for the privilege of being your aide and learning from your wisdom and experience.”

  Alittum could barely stomach the patronizing flattery. “Well, I think it is time for you to become aware of one more privilege.”

  Emzara sat up with piqued attention. Alittum continued, “It is of such privacy and significance that only the highest of temple and palace caste are allowed to know of it. I am talking of a system of secret passageways through the city.”

  Inside her gut, Emzara felt the rush of excitement. Elohim had answered her prayers.

  Alittum concluded, “They connect all the main palace structures and lead outside the city as well.”

  “To what do I owe the honor of this revelation?” asked Emzara.

  “To your own character,” replied Alittum. “I feel that I could trust you with my life. So I knew that I would need for you to trust me with yours. But you must tell no one, not even Lugalanu.”

  Strange, thought Emzara. Why would Lugalanu not want to know? In fact, would he not have been the one to ask for her initiation?

  Alittum answered Emzara’s thoughts as if she read her mind. “If anything should happen through the use of those passageways — anything against the law — it would serve to protect you from any implication if Lugalanu knew not of your acquaintance with them.”

  Could this be true? thought Emzara. Could Alittum be offering her the very opportunity that she sought? Surely, this was from Elohim! She could not have asked for a more perfect opportunity.

  Then Alittum added, “But be careful. These passageways also lead to the secret chambers of the gods, where no human is allowed to enter, save the king.”

  Emzara had heard of these chambers, but did not know much about them. Rumor said they were places where the gods engaged in sorceries, including the birth of the Nephilim from the daughters of men. The women who were forced to carry these infernal fetuses in the womb were never seen again. Emzara wondered what fate had befallen the innocent Shazira, the girl chosen as one among many to be the vessel of a demigod. Emzara suppressed a wave of nausea.

  Alittum continued, “The chambers are said to contain the secrets of the universe. Wonders that humans cannot bear to behold: Astrology, sorcery, magic spells and enchantments. It is said that should a human learn such secrets she might become a challenge to the gods themselves.” To Emzara, this seemed more like a tempting offer than a dangerous warning. She could feel a tug in her own soul toward the forbidden knowledge. Access to the heart of this evil empire could one day be used to bring about its downfall.

  Alittum had carefully avoided reference to the punishment for such a breach of confidence. This kind of violation would no doubt require the ultimate price of one’s life. Still, the focus on the possibilities had its affect on Emzara. The knowledge fed her hatred of injustice and her desire to right the wrongs of her world. It served her sense of significance, that she might be in the position to alter the course of history. It nurtured her pride.

  Chapter 12

  The Great Desert was a vast hostile territory that would kill visitors unaccustomed to its capricious environment. Travelers faced a lack of water, scorching hot days, freezing cold nights and unpredictable sand storms at a moment’s notice. Fortunately, Methuselah knew the terrain because he had been through its jaws in the past during his giant killing days with his father Enoch. They had crossed the barren terrain on their way to Bashan. They had endured the worst of dehydration and sandstorms, and a most peculiar mystical tree guarded by seductive demons. But he prayed they would not stumble upon that nightmare again because they barely made it out alive.

  During that encounter with the demonic tree, Methuselah’s company had been rescued by a Thamudi tribe that had settled in the region and became allies with them. But they had been on a mission from Elohim that required them to move onward. Later, when Noah was a young boy, the two tribes had met again. Noah had become fast friends with the chief’s son, Salah al Din, whose name meant “righteousness of faith.” Noah wondered how his former playmate had fared since they were last together.

  Noah planned to go deep into the desert in an attempt to lose their Nephilim trackers. Jubal and Jabal would lose theirs by fleeing into northern lands where the new kingdom of Akkad had begun. Methuselah and Tubal-cain would cross the Me
sopotamian plains to the east and shake off their Nephilim in the Zagros Mountains, doubling back to meet everyone at the village of Kur in Mount Hermon after two moons.

  Noah had not anticipated that all five Nephilim would be on his trail. Uriel had surmised this misfortune by the time they arrived at the Thamudi fortresses.

  The Thamud were a mysterious people. Rock dwellers, they literally sculpted their residences in the stone of the buttes. The outer carving looked like the facades of buildings in any city of the plain, but they were in fact entirely hollowed out of the rocks of the hills. The beautiful, huge creations housed a people of formidable fierceness. One had to be fierce to survive the unrelenting brutality of the desert. The settlement to which Noah returned sheltered about seven hundred souls, three hundred able warriors and their wives and children.

  Noah and Uriel were greeted by a party led by none other than Chief Salah al Din. Noah’s playmate had grown up to be the tribal chieftain.

  “Mustafa!” Salah called to Noah. “Mustafa” meant Chosen One in his tribal dialect. Salah never tired of reminding Noah that he had embraced Enoch’s revelation and believed Noah to be the Chosen Seed who would end the rule of the Gods and bring rest to the land—even if Noah himself would not accept it. “It has been too long, old friend,” Salah said as he embraced his visitor.

  “How is that old goat, Methuselah?’ the chieftain asked. “He and father were as close as you and I.”

  Noah tried to keep face with proper etiquette, “He complains too much, but he is still a strong arm for me. We all miss Diya al Din. Your father was a great man, and we will never forget his kindness to us.”

  Salah said, “Thank you, my friend. Our humble home remains your own.”

  He read their solemn expressions, sensing that something was wrong. Noah introduced him to Uriel and then broke the news. “I am sorry to tell you, Salah, that this visit is not a blessed one. My companion and I are being hunted by a party of Gibborim.”

  Salah knew of the Gibborim. He knew they only left death and destruction in their wake. But that could only mean one thing to Salah. “If the principalities and powers of darkness are on to you,” he teased, “that must mean you may soon begin to accept your own identity.”

  Noah could not return the jest. He was too tired, and scared for Salah and his people. “We seek only supplies, Salah. And we will be on our way. We will not jeopardize your people’s safety. We have our own quest to accomplish.”

  “Nonsense,” said Salah. “Tonight, we will celebrate with feasting, and discuss your strategy.”

  Noah could not argue with Salah’s stubborn kindness. He was too desperate at this point. He nodded. He and Uriel rode off with Salah to the Thamudi fortresses.

  The banquet tables were laden with the best food that desert living could provide; crispy beetle appetizers, sand grouse, snake, roasted gecko lizards on sticks, as well as a delicacy of gazelle organs. And of course, beer flowed freely. Salah held nothing back from his beloved friend. But he could see that Noah remained somber.

  Salah leaned in close to Noah and said, “My friend, how are your people?”

  Noah told him the whole story of the butchery of his entire clan, and his subsequent capture and escape. It broke Salah’s heart. His eyes teared up with empathy.

  “Tell me of your quest, and how I can be of service to you,” said Salah.

  Noah explained grimly, “I have decided that I will end this rule of the gods, one by one, by binding them and casting them into the depths of the earth. Our first destination is Mount Hermon.”

  Salah knew Mount Hermon’s fame as the cosmic mountain where the Watchers had come down from heaven. He knew it was the portal to Sheol, guarded by the underworld gods Ereshkigal and Nergal. “But I thought only archangels could bind such divine monsters of power and cruelty,” said Salah. Understanding suddenly hit him. He stared at Uriel. He had been entertaining an angel unaware in his very own citadel.

  A mischievous grin settled over Salah’s face. “So it has finally begun. The judgment of God is nigh.” Uriel’s face was unresponsive. He would give nothing away. “We have a saying out here in the wadi,” added Salah. “Let justice roll down like waters.”

  Noah said, “But first, we must shake these Nephilim from our cloaks, or we will not live to accomplish our task.”

  “Demigods are rascals,” Salah observed. “They embody the worst of both worlds.”

  Uriel knew this was true. The reason archangels had a harder time defeating Nephilim was that the Watchers’ offspring were a violation of the divide between heavenly and earthly creation. Members of Elohim’s divine council were heavenly beings. They inhabited the same realm as Elohim, just as humans occupied the earth. But Nephilim were the spawn of both heaven and earth. They fully inhabited the corporeal flesh, but were animated by an occult spiritual vitality that almost equaled a member of the heavenly assembly. An angel could traverse between worlds, but would become subject to the limitations of both. Uriel knew this from experience. But a Naphil lived in both worlds at once. In some ways Nephilim were stronger than mal’akim, but the mal’akim angels had one significant advantage: They were immortal, Nephilim were not. Nephilim could die. That point gave Uriel some small satisfaction.

  Salah was intensely curious and had much he wanted to ask Uriel. “Tell me, Uriel, how do you bind an angel or a Bene Elohim?”

  Uriel looked at Noah, who nodded in approval. He could trust Salah with his very life. Uriel pulled back his cloak, pushed up his sleeve, and touched an armband that looked like it was made of white hair. Uriel unraveled a small amount and let Salah feel it. It felt as fine as a spider’s web and was barely visible.

  “Hair from the cherubim of the throne of Elohim. It is indestructible,” said Uriel.

  Salah was amazed. Uriel would offer no more than he was asked, but Salah badgered him with an unending stream of questions. Fortunately for Salah, Uriel was full of wine and he was more open than usual.

  “What exactly is a cherubim?” Salah began.

  “Cherub,” corrected Uriel. “Cherubim is the plural. They are the carriers of the throne chariot of Elohim. They were also guardians of the tree of life and the gates of Eden,” said Uriel.

  “What do they look like? Do they look like you?”

  Salah’s childlike innocence amused Uriel. “They are far more terrifying than me.”

  “In other words,” Noah jested, “you would barely notice them in a dark gulley.”

  Uriel sobered up. “They have skin that shines like burnished bronze. They have four sets of wings, and four faces. Usually one face is of a human, one of a lion, one of an eagle, and one of the cherub itself. They are accompanied by the Flames of the Whirling Sword, divine beings that can smite anything that approaches their custody. The sound of a cherub’s wings alone strikes terror into the hearts of its enemies.” It was all so matter-of-fact for Uriel. He lived in the presence of these beings, not to mention the more terrifying presence of Elohim, for an eternity.

  Salah had pestered Enoch years ago when his tribe had first met them, so he had a few more loose ends to clear up. “Now, what are the seraphim and how are they different from cherubim?”

  “Seraphim are specially appointed Watchers, the reptilian ones, with six wings, that guard the throne of Elohim.”

  Salah kept right on moving without a pause. “So the seraphim are like the Serpent of Eden?”

  “Yes. But the Serpent of Eden is an unfortunate misnomer. The Nachash is unquestionably serpentine in his character, justifying the legends surrounding him as one of the seraphim who guarded Elohim’s throne. But he was not merely a serpent. His name in another sense meant ‘brazen brightness,’ and like other Watchers, he was a Shining One. His body was like beryl, his face like the appearance of lightning, his eyes like torches of fire, his arms and feet like burnished bronze. The ‘Serpent of Eden’ became a useful allusion, because he had been cursed by Elohim to crawl the dust of the earth away from his heavenly
abode with the Sons of God.”

  “Why did he tempt the original pair in the Garden?” asked Salah.

  “He is also called the satan which means ‘the accuser’ in God’s heavenly court.” Salah followed the explanation well. He knew that God’s divine council of holy ones surrounded Elohim’s throne and engaged in legal disputes of justice on earth.

  Uriel continued, “But unlike a just prosecutor of crimes, the Nachash was a liar and murderer from the beginning. He was the father of lies, the tempter and deceiver of God’s people. He seeks to use God’s lawfulness against him.” Uriel had a particular bitter memory of the satan’s attempt in the past to sue Elohim in his own court. It was a diabolically brilliant strategy of manipulating legal procedure and technicalities against the Judge himself. But it did not quite work.

  “But when the pair was cast out of Eden, the Nachash began his campaign to defile every corner of Elohim’s good creation. He set up his parody of the mountain of Eden at Mount Hermon, in Bashan, the ‘Place of the Serpent.’ He was eventually joined by Semjaza, Azazel, and the other fallen Sons of God to pursue their nefarious grand design on Eden. It was the war of the Seed of Nachash with the Seed of Havah, and it was for total conquest. No quarter given. To the victor, complete spoils. Their loss at the Titanomachy was but one battle.”