by Brian Godawa
Lamech’s arm was tiring. He chopped off a snake head tail of one of the beasts and then caught the dragon head of another. The force of it yanked his weakened arm and he lost control. The whip blade cracked just over Methuselah’s head near the fire.
“Are you still angry at me, son? I told you I like Betenos!” yelped Methuselah. Even at such a moment, he could find the humor. He might as well. They would probably all be dead and eaten by evening’s end.
“Sorry!” yelled Lamech. He switched hands with the flexible blade. He was not as good with his left arm. But he needed rest or he would collapse any moment.
The Nephilim worked in natural coordination with each other. They each grabbed a monster in tandem and threw the beasts at each other with a crash, stunning them. They followed up with a synchronized double clubbing. They were highly trained guards and would be very hard to kill should Enoch’s team find themselves facing off with the giants after this ambush — if they made it out alive.
Enoch’s thoughts distracted him for a moment. One of the chimeras fell upon him and pinned him to the ground, knocking the wind out of him. Saliva splattered from its jaws. He could feel the hot breath on his face. It bared its teeth to strike, its lips pulled back to reveal two rows of razor edged fangs.
Enoch shut his eyes, waiting for his life to be torn from his body.
The jaws never came.
Ohyah grabbed the dragon’s throat and ripped out its windpipe. It fell to the ground.
Enoch opened his eyes.
Ohyah smiled at him, for just a moment. Then a pack of three of the mongrels pounced in unison onto his back. He went down beneath a pile of fighting monsters. One of the creatures clamped its iron jaws onto Ohyah’s arm. He screamed in pain.
The other giant ripped one of the beasts off of him and flung it down onto the fire.
An explosion of flames and embers covered everyone.
Methuselah’s javelin and Edna’s weapon pierced through the second one.
The third mutant beast with clamped jaw had its head cut off by Lamech’s Rahab.
Suddenly, unexpectedly, it was all over. Those were the last three of the chimeras. The giant killers had teamed up with their own enemy to defeat a common foe.
Everyone was near total exhaustion, lungs burning for air.
When Lamech saw that Betenos was unwounded, he hugged her for dear life.
Methuselah crawled to Edna. He was too exhausted to say anything more than, “Pednanoonypoo.”
“Poozelahbunnybunch,” she murmured and collapsed in his arms. They lay gasping for a moment.
“What in the world were those monstrosities?” an incredulous Methuselah asked anyone who would answer.
No one did.
Methuselah glanced around. The second Naphil helped Enoch up to his feet. Whatever possessed this creature to help them was beyond Methuselah.
He saw Ohyah stand up behind Enoch. His father was sandwiched between the two giants. The hair rose on the back of Methuselah’s neck.
Ohyah raised his ax.
Methuselah screamed.
It was too late. Ohyah delivered a mighty blow.
But it was not to Enoch. Ohyah severed the other Naphil’s head from his body. It fell to the ground at Enoch’s feet, followed by the four hundred pound corpse.
Enoch looked up in fear at Ohyah.
Ohyah dropped the weapon and sat on the ground, his task completed.
Lamech and Methuselah ran to Enoch to protect him. They pointed their weapons at the surviving giant. Ohyah sighed and said, “That Naphil was sent to kill you.”
“How do you know that?” demanded Enoch.
“Because Inanna ordered me to send him,” said Ohyah. “He did not anticipate being beaten to the task by the mushussu.” He looked at Methuselah. “That is the answer to your question. The beasts are called mushussu. He must have relished the challenge of gaining your trust in the fight in order to kill you in your sleep.”
“And you?” said Lamech.
“I came to stop him. He thought I was here to help him.”
“This is becoming a jumbled confusion of cross purposes,” exclaimed Methuselah. “I must be getting old.”
“It is simple, father,” said Lamech. “We are on our way to kill giants.” He pointed to the dead Naphil. “That giant was sent to kill us.” He pointed to Ohyah. “This giant came to kill that giant. But these mushussu came to kill us all. So we all teamed up and killed the mushussu.” He paused for a moment. “And now we are all wondering if we should kill this giant.” Lamech was becoming a chip off the old mud brick, with his wit. Edna smiled.
Enoch said, “Why should we trust you, giant?”
“Is it not obvious?” said Ohyah. “If I wanted you dead, I would have let the Naphil kill you.”
“But you are a Naphil,” protested Methuselah. “You are the Watchers’ seed.”
“But half human,” said Lamech in Ohyah’s defense.
“Elohim made me this way,” Ohyah countered.
Edna watched Ohyah closely. She did not have the open mind that these men displayed. She cared only to protect her son and husband.
“Can Nephilim actually repent and serve Elohim?” Methuselah’s words echoed everyone’s thoughts.
Enoch spoke up. “Ohyah means us no harm. He will be traveling with us to Bashan.”
He stared straight into Ohyah’s eyes as he said the words. Ohyah sighed with relief and smiled at him.
“Well, I never thought I’d see the day,” said Methuselah. “A repentant Naphil joining a team of giant killers. You will have to write about that in your memoirs, father. But I anticipate you will be accused of fictional embellishment.”
The others chuckled. It was all too absurd to believe. But they were living it.
Enoch studied one of the dead monsters, deep in thought. He picked up one of the severed heads to look at it more closely. “Ohyah, you called these mushussu? I have never seen nor heard of them before. What are they?”
“Miscegenation of the gods,” said Ohyah. The word referred to hybridization. Herdsmen and pastoralists had learned to crossbreed certain animals to create new ones that were blended combinations of both animals. The domesticated dog came from such breeding. Humans selected wolves from one pack that were more docile than the others and interbred them with docile members of a different pack to create a new breed of canine more friendly to humans. There were limits to hybridization that restricted such breeding to animals of the same kind. One could not “crossbreed” birds with felines and reptiles. Yet this hideous mutant clearly had been so magically bred. It was unimaginable.
“How is it possible to crossbreed such manifold creatures?” asked Methuselah.
A pall of darkness came over Ohyah’s face. “It is not natural,” he said. “It is part of an experiment of occultic secrets by the gods.”
“But why?” asked Enoch. “For what purpose?”
“I do not know,” said Ohyah. “But I suspect you will find the answer in Bashan.”
“Well, let us get our rest,” said Enoch. “We begin our crossing of the Great Desert in the morning.”
Chapter 24
They set out to cross the Great Desert, heading into a stretch of one hundred and seventeen leagues of the most severe desert, with the harshest weather Enoch and his band of warriors had ever experienced. He wondered where such severity came from. He had heard that in early days, the region had been rich in vegetation, animal life and bodies of water. Something had happened that changed it all, that brought a curse upon this infernal land.
Riding onagers, they followed a trade route marked by wells along the way. The watering spots gave them relief for their blistered and dehydrated bodies. They crossed paths with caravans returning from Egypt by way of the Levantine coastal lands. Within days they adjusted to the harsh environment. As nomads, they had learned to survive in any habitat, from rigid cold mountain to hot humid jungle to barren dry tundra.
Methuselah, wh
o longed to experience all the extremes that his body could endure in this world, found it exhilarating. He felt that if Elohim gave him physical senses to experience, he would indulge them to the fullest — within moral boundaries of course. And one of those moral boundaries included holy union with his beloved Edna.
He fantasized about making love to her alone and naked in this wide open arid expanse, surrounded by nothing but leagues of sand and rock, with only Elohim as their audience. Even after all these years, he was more grateful for Elohim’s creation of oneness with his wife than anything else, be it feasting on a roasted boar or killing a giant. Well, roasted boar ran a pretty close second.
Edna glanced at Methuselah, lost in thought as they plodded along on their pack animals. She knew exactly what he was thinking. She felt a little sorry for him, because she knew they would not have the opportunity to ditch their fellow travelers to make love in the vast open terrain as he no doubt was fantasizing. She would tease him in their tent later that night.
Enoch had not adapted to this miserable climate as well as the others. He used the long hours of travel to pray to Elohim. But he could not stand the relentless heat. He longed to leave his body and once again swim in the crystalline waters above the heavens. He dreamed of being in the heavenly temple and the glorious light of ten thousand times ten thousand of Elohim’s holy ones. Instead, he suffered the burning rays of a red hot sun scorching him to the bone.
Lamech and Betenos lagged further behind. Their non-stop talk drove everyone up a rock cliff. What is your favorite animal to kill and skin? Do you prefer lean-to shelters or sleeping under starlight? Do you ever want to settle down in a city someday? It was amazing how long they could talk without taking a break to breathe or drink water from their goat skins.
Edna smiled and said a prayer of thanks when she heard them spend hours debating the greatness of Elohim versus the Great Goddess. She could hear Betenos breaking down in her protestations. She knew it was only a matter of time before Betenos rejected her pagan upbringing and embraced Elohim. Who knows? She might even become a giant killer. In the meantime, she cooked a mean lizard stew and kept them from heat exhaustion with her herbal remedies.
The one area that gave Edna grave concern was Betenos’ vow against marriage. The young woman was dead set against having children and refused to talk about it. Edna made a mental note to talk to Betenos about it when they were alone.
Ohyah brought up the rear. They all found it difficult to accept a giant walking amongst them. He did not want to make them any more uncomfortable. Besides, Nephilim were reclusive creatures and treasured their solitude. They were bred to kill, not socialize.
The group made astonishing time at almost eight leagues a day for nearly a week. They were just past half way to their destination. The midafternoon sun penetrated everything.
A gush of warm air washed over them.
A shiver went through Ohyah’s spine. He yelled out in his deep resounding voice,. “Shaitan! Shaitan!” It carried all the way to Enoch at the front of their line.
It was the Naphil word for sandstorm, a very vicious sandstorm. Enoch searched the horizon. He did not see it. No one did. The Nephilim had a sixth sense the humans did not share.
Ohyah sprinted to the front. “It is coming from the north! We must get to shelter!”
They had seen no shelter for days.
Enoch yelled, “RUN!” They all kicked their rides and galloped westward as fast as they could.
The storm did not take long to become visible. A huge billowing wall of sand in the distance charged toward them like a tsunami. Before they could get to safety, it swept over them. A cyclone of whirling dust and sand and rocks enveloped them.
A large rock hit Ohyah in the back. It would have killed any of the humans, but it merely knocked him dizzy. He tried to cover the women with his bulky figure.
They did not know how long they could last. Such storms could be short gusts or stretch for distances of leagues.
They covered their mouths with their cloaks as filters. They could barely breathe.
The onagers collapsed. They had no filters for their lungs.
The company could not move. Their beasts of burden were dead. They huddled together.
They prepared to die.
As suddenly as it began, the storm stopped. It passed over them. They coughed and sputtered and shook out the sand from their clothes.
They looked around. The storm had not actually passed them by. It was now all around them. They stood within a swirling wall of sand circling around them like a huge corral.
“The eye of the storm,” blurted Lamech.
They had heard of such a thing, but had never experienced it. As if they were at sea, this hurricane of sand had a center of complete calmness and they had entered it. All around them rushed the impenetrable curtain of cyclonic wind and earth. They huddled in a circle of complete calmness.
Betenos looked up behind them all with astonishment. “Oh my gods, it is true. It is really true.”
Everyone turned to see an incredible wonder. Not too far from them stood a tree, a very large tree, a tremendous tree that extended into the heavens, thousands of cubits high.
“The World Tree,” murmured Betenos. “See, Lamech?” she cried, “I told you it was true. The Great Goddess Earth Mother.”
She fell to her knees and worshipped.
Chapter 25
Enoch looked upwards. He could not see where the tree ended. It just disappeared into the clouds. How could this be? They should have seen it from leagues away. But there had been nothing but empty desert for many leagues in every direction. It was not only thousands of cubits high, it was at least a couple hundred cubits around. Its tangled mass of roots were no doubt anchored deep into the earth. It could not move with the shifting storm, so how could it be in the center of it?
Enoch rubbed his eyes. Was this a vision? It could not be. The others saw it as well. Were they under some kind of spell? It must be magic.
Skepticism filled Enoch. He felt they were nestling within the coils of a huge serpent. It might be dark magic.
Ohyah recalled the story from his youth about Inanna and the Huluppu Tree. Could this be the one? The very origin of the Sacred Marriage rite. It came rushing back to him. In the very first days and the very first nights when Anu and Enlil had separated the heavens and the earth, and Ereshkigal was given the underworld, there was a single Huluppu Tree. The wood from the tree was used to make the bed of Inanna where her lover Dumuzi would unite with her. Then he remembered, the great thunderbird, Anzu left its young up in the branches. Ohyah stared up into the sky, transfixed, looking for some sign of the mythical eagle-like creature.
Without warning, he ran toward the tree.
Enoch yelled after him, “Ohyah! What are you doing?”
Ohyah did not respond. He ran like the wind all the way to the mighty trunk and jumped onto it a dozen cubits in the air.
He climbed.
The others stood wondering what had gotten into his head to do such a thing.
Methuselah said, “I knew we could not trust the giant.”
“We must take cover before the storm shifts," Enoch said, starting toward the tree. They approached its base, a tangle of gnarled roots plunging into the earth like grappling hooks. The wood of the tree was weather-beaten and leathery. The roots writhed and folded around each other creating crevices and hideaways.
High above them, Ohyah climbed rapidly. White clouds shrouded the top of the tree. As they watched the spectacle of the tree-climbing giant, he vanished into the mist.
Enoch brought his gaze back down. He started.
Three beautiful young maidens stood before them like phantasms. They reminded him of the cave dwellers of Sahand who suddenly appeared as if rising from the ground itself. But these beings probably materialized from the large fissures of the tree. And they were not so earthy as the cave dwellers.
They were actually quite heavenly.
Surprise silenced the travelers.
The women were barefoot, adorned in silky flowing dress, with flower-laden hair. One had jet black hair and the others had wavy locks as golden as the sand. Their pale milky skin looked as if it had never been in the sun. And when they spoke, it gave the impression of singing.
The women spoke as if in unison, “Welcome to our abode. You must be exhausted to have weathered such a storm.”
Enoch could swear he did not see their mouths move. “Who are you?” he asked.
“I am Lilith,” said the raven-haired beauty. “And these are my daughters Lili and Lilu.”
“Are you angels?” blurted Lamech.
Lilith smiled. “We are the keepers of this most sacred space.”
“Where are we? What is this?” asked Enoch.
“This is the Great Goddess Earth Mother, the Tree of Life,” answered Lilith. “She is the link between heaven and earth.”
“What?” said Enoch. He looked at Methuselah and Edna. They knew of only one Tree of Life and that was unapproachably secluded in the Garden of Eden.
Lilith and the girls giggled. “All will be made clear. But first you must rest, re-gather your strength,” said Lilith.
She led them to a campsite nestled in the encircling roots of the tree. It seemed a comfortable safe encampment with a firepit, locations for sleeping and protection from any sandy winds or scorching sunrays that might try to find them.
But the feature that caught their attention was the flowing fountain of sparkling fresh water that poured from a hole in the tree into a small pool with well walls built around it.
Lamech plopped down exhausted in a bed-like nook of soft bark.
Lilith stepped over to the pouring water and took a handcupped sip. “You must be weary and thirsty from your journey. Please allow Lili and Lilu to serve you refreshment.”