by Tim Chaffey
Emzara sat back on her bed and accepted the bowl. “Well, I don’t know. I thought maybe he opened his eyes, but I must’ve imagined it. What if he’s like this for a while? What will happen if we have intruders intent on harming us?”
“Garun said we’re to run to our boat and he’ll move Purlek as quickly and carefully as he can.”
“Good. I wouldn’t be able to face Adira knowing we hadn’t done all we could to rescue him. But what if he—”
From where she still stood at the tent’s entrance, Laleel held up a hand. “Let’s not think about that. So far, we’re hidden and safe.” She swept her arm toward the campfire behind her and laughed, although it came out slightly forced. “I mean, look at this. Garun is so restless he may have a whole village constructed by the time Purlek wakes up.”
Emzara returned a small smile, appreciating her friend’s efforts to be cheerful. “I don’t blame him at all. I’m just as restless on the inside. I’m thankful for all that both of you have done, but it’s not easy just sitting here. I know I could do more.”
Laleel leaned forward and patted her hand. “Yes, of course you could. But that’s not the point. You’re helping by letting Garun do all the work, believe me.” Both laughed, Laleel’s deeper tones melding with Emzara’s higher ones.
“Now, you need to eat something.” Laleel pointed to the utensil on the bed between them.
Emzara obediently raised a bite to her mouth. When the tiniest sputter of a cough caused both women to look down, Purlek shifted a bit to the side but didn’t wake.
* * *
Emzara bolted upright at the sound. She struggled to make sense of her surroundings in the semi-darkness. Heart racing, she blinked several times, willing the fog of sleep to subside. Another quiet moan was all she needed to put together the pieces and rush from her bed, flinging aside the curtain that separated her from her patient.
She bent low and tried to keep her excitement at a whisper to keep from waking up Garun and Laleel. “Purlek. It’s Emzara.”
His wide-open eyes and a large grimace revealed his pain. He thrashed violently, but winced and lay back. Only the tiny spasms from his limbs told her that this mostly motionless state was purely due to his will.
She used the moonlight to find a tiny bottle in her care bag. Holding it up, she unhinged the cap and dumped a portion into her hand. “Here, this will help. Chew it.” She placed a small bark bit in his parted lips and his jaw moved slightly.
“Don’t talk, dear, and try to stay still. I know it hurts.” She wanted to reach out with a reassuring touch, but she pulled her hand back, afraid to cause him more pain. “You’re going to be alright, but it will take some time. Your leg is broken, and I think you broke some ribs, too.” She paused and studied his face for understanding. “I’m here on a journey up the river with friends, Laleel and Garun. Do you remember them?”
Gritting his teeth, Purlek nodded slowly.
“It’s gotten pretty bad in Iri Geshem, and Noah’s taking care of a few things before joining us. We came to see you and pass along greetings from your parents, but found Iri Dekkel in shambles — you as well.” Holding up a waterskin, she gave him drink. “We’re safely hidden in the trees across the river now.”
The tension slowly eased out of his face as he raised his head barely a handbreadth to manage a few swallows before lying back. “Ma-Zara.” His nickname for her came out low and weak.
“Yes, dear.”
“They attacked. Suddenly.” Each word was measured.
As much as she wanted to know the details, she shushed him. “Never mind that. What’s important right now is your recovery. You need your strength.”
“It helps. To talk. Helps me not think. About pain.”
“Very well then, go ahead.” She blinked back a tear as she recalled the morning Purlek had been born. The youngest child of Tubal-Cain and Adira had grown into the spitting image of his father, except for his eyes. Those are definitely Adira’s. His broad shoulders, muscular arms, and sturdy frame made it seem as if he were born to follow his father’s profession. Yet despite his strength, here he was before her, helpless, just like the first time she met him.
“So fast.”
“Who were they?”
“Nod—” He blinked hard. “Nodites.”
A pit suddenly formed in her stomach. “Nodites?” So far west? “Do you know why they attacked you?”
“No. Barely any warning at all.”
Her mind flashed to Noah and Iri Geshem. “We didn’t hear anything about an attack.” She rubbed her forehead. Noah could be in danger. “Why would their raiders travel so far? Why now, after centuries of peace?”
He slowly shook his head. “Money? Slaves? Sport?” His eyes dulled.
She sighed. “What do you remember?”
“Hit him.”
“Him who? A Nodite?”
“He. Attacked. Home.”
Piecing this story together was slow going, but now that he had begun, she was determined to get as much of it as possible before he fell back asleep. “He attacked you. And you were at home?”
“Uh — no.”
“We found you at your smithy, is that where you were?”
“Yes. Just started . . . the day.”
“How many showed up?”
“Don’t know. A lot.” He shifted gingerly and closed his eyes.
A pang of guilt assailed her. “Purlek, you don’t have to talk. You should rest.”
“It’s alright.” He took a slow breath between each sentence. “Not. Much more. They burned . . . place.”
She gently placed a hand on his arm, the need for contact outweighing her fear of hurting him. “Oh, I don’t know how you survived everything. We saw the charred remains.”
“Forge.” He chuckled, coughed, and then winced.
“Huh?”
“Fireproof.”
“Yes it is! So you crawled in there and waited for the flames to pass?” The image of the wrecked building and his body lying under the rubble filled her mind. “But we didn’t find you there.”
“Came out early. Roof fell.”
“Of course. That’s the beam we found you under. It must have knocked you out. Thankfully, they’d left by then, but of course you wouldn’t have come out until you were sure they were gone.”
His labored breathing smoothed into a more peaceful rhythm. He placed his hand on top of hers and forced a smile. “Thank you.” He closed his eyes and fell asleep.
Emzara mused over this new information. She considered heading back to her own pallet for some much-needed rest, but dwelled on Purlek’s abbreviated retelling of the attack. She shuddered in the dark. With concern for Noah and the possibility of marauding Nodites in the region, sleep would be impossible.
Chapter 4
Region of Iri Geshem — Noah’s 499th year
Noah readjusted his wrists in an attempt to relieve the chafed area beneath the ropes. The bonds had made the miserable march from Iri Geshem to the Nodite camp even more uncomfortable, especially as he and Elam had to take turns carrying Rayneh. From their capture in the early morning to their arrival in the main camp just after dark, they had rested only twice, during the two brief meal breaks along the way.
Bound by a long rope attached to the center post of the tent, Noah stood in the entrance and gazed across the sprawling field before him. A light but steady rain beat down on the tens of thousands of soldiers preparing for war under the gray morning sky. Warriors worked tirelessly to turn felled trees into what Noah supposed to be war machines. One of the larger trunks rested on a massive wagon while men chopped one end to a blunt point. Upon overhearing soldiers talk about it, he had learned that this weapon would be used for smashing city gates. The other contraptions seemed to be designed for launching large rocks toward the enemy. Toward Iri Geshem. A wide range of emotions coursed through Noah as he thought about the city that had been his home for over four centuries. What would happen to Kmani, Bakur, and his oth
er friends if the Nodites broke through? Torn by the desire to see the wicked defeated and the longing to see the city return to its former ways of following the Creator, Noah closed his eyes. Most High, please show me what to do.
“Noah.” Elam’s voice cracked as he approached.
“How’s Rayneh?”
“She’s finally sleeping again.” Elam joined Noah at the tent’s door. Their bindings prevented them from moving any farther. Red eyes and pale, puffy cheeks unveiled the effects of mourning his wife’s death for the past two days. Whenever his daughter was awake, Elam composed himself, trying to be strong for his little girl, but Noah had heard his friend’s grief in the night, while the little girl slept.
Keeping his voice just above a whisper, Elam said, “We have to get out of here.” He sniffed and motioned toward Rayneh. “Noah, the Nodites, you know what they’ll do to her if we don’t escape soon.”
Noah nodded. Every time he heard them recounted, the nefarious Nodite tales sent shivers through his body. This ruthless army showed no mercy to their captives, killing older men and women and sending young men to be worked to death in the mines or fields. Young women, even little girls, lived out their short and miserable existences as sex slaves in brothels. Noah clenched his teeth as little Rayneh’s possible future flashed before him. “I know.”
Elam held up his bound hands. “I’m sure we could break free from these, but I’m not sure how we would escape unnoticed.”
Noah recalled his awe-inspiring encounter with the Creator only three weeks earlier. Drawing confidence from the Most High’s message, he took a deep breath. “I know our situation looks bleak, but don’t give up hope.”
Noah almost reminded Elam of how the Most High had protected them in the arena, but he quickly realized Elam would struggle to see it that way. After all, Kal, Tubal-Cain, and Adira had not been spared. A lump formed in his throat. “I trust the Creator will make a way for us to—”
“You!”
A familiar voice broke his concentration, and Noah searched for its source. Strolling toward them, the leader of the small group that had captured them held his head high and his shoulders back. The other soldiers called him Enil, but Noah was not sure if that was his name or a title. The rounded black patterns tattooed or branded on his cheeks made him easy to recognize.
“Me?”
“Yes, you,” Enil said as he reached the top of the small rise on which the tent rested. His armor clanked against itself as he moved, and raindrops slid off the smooth metal surfaces. “The captain wants to see you now.” He stepped inside the tent and worked to free Noah’s rope from the center post.
Elam pressed his lips together and tilted his head toward Rayneh. “Don’t forget about us.”
“Never.”
Enil stepped past them and tugged the rope, pulling Noah’s arms forward. “Come on. Time for your fate to be decided.”
“We’ll be alright,” Noah said to Elam as he lurched forward to follow Enil. As he passed into the drizzling rain, he turned his head for one more glimpse of Rayneh and Elam, hoping that his words were true.
Noah hurried to keep up with the soldier. The wet grass soaked his feet, and the cold rain made for a mushy and uncomfortable walk through the camp. Most of the troops ignored him, but more than a few ridiculed and taunted him as they passed by. The continual pounding and chopping by the men building their war machines nearly drowned out the sound of the mockers.
Ahead and on a hill to the left stood the largest tent in the compound. Four red and black flags, symbols of the Nodite civilization, flapped atop tall posts. Outside the door, six guards, three to a side, stood at attention. The first man to their left wore a colorful patch over one shoulder. He nodded to Enil and tilted his spear toward the tent’s entrance.
Keeping his head down, Noah entered the large, dry, well-lit shelter. As their prisoner, he would show deference to their authority — humility would serve him best. The soldier advanced several steps before stopping, and Noah followed suit.
Enil stood tall and rigid. “Captain, here’s one of the prisoners from Iri Geshem.”
“What’s your name?” The man’s firm tone matched his position of authority. “Look at me.”
Noah slowly lifted his chin and looked at the captain for the first time. Sitting on a low chair behind a table, the man appeared to be smaller than Noah had anticipated. Dark eyes complemented his dark complexion, and his muscular neck and thick forearms would cause any potential challengers to think twice. “I’m Noah.”
“Sir, we thought he might be a spy. He and his companion were found in the forest traveling with a very young girl,” Enil said. “A clever cover for a spy, if you ask me.”
The captain studied Noah for a moment and then set his writing stick on the large scroll sprawled out on the table in front of him. Noah instantly located Iri Geshem, the sea, and the Hiddekel. Undoubtedly, the Nodites were planning an invasion. Two high-ranking soldiers stood to the captain’s left and another was on his right. “I didn’t ask you, Enil. This man is no spy.”
“Forgive me, sir. How do you know?”
The captain gestured with his finger to spin Noah around. “Let me see his back.”
Enil turned Noah and then pulled his wrap down to his waist.
“As I suspected. He’s no spy.”
“Sir?”
Raising his voice, the captain said, “He doesn’t bear their mark — the tree with the serpent. Unbind him.”
Enil loosened the cords from Noah’s wrists and leaned a little closer. “Don’t even think about fleeing.”
Noah turned back around and returned his wrap to its proper place over his shoulder. Stretching out his fingers, he twisted his wrists in small circular motions, careful not to touch the red skin rubbed raw by the ropes.
“Well, Noah, I am Captain Iradel, high commander of the Nodite army. My men overheard you and your companion talking about escaping from Iri Geshem.” The Nodite leader stared into Noah’s eyes. “Tell me, why were you running from the city? Did you live there?”
Noah bobbed his head. “I used to live there. My wife and I were in the process of moving.”
“But your wife wasn’t with you.”
“No sir. She left several days before me.”
“And why were you moving? Something happen in Iri Geshem?”
How much do I tell him? This foe of Iri Geshem was not entitled to know everything, but lying was wrong. However, Noah’s once beloved city now suffered under the influence of another enemy, one already within its walls. Perhaps the Nodites could destroy Lamech’s army and Naamah’s religious system. Should I help them?
“Something did happen.” The man rose from his chair and crossed his arms. “We didn’t feel safe anymore when a few of the city councilmembers died last week.”
“I already knew about that. Very strange. Three councilmembers die of a mysterious illness on the same day. Does that not seem strange to you?”
“It sounds deliberate to me. I believe they were poisoned.” The loss of Zain struck Noah again. His neck warmed and he looked away.
“Of course they were. That’s the only reasonable explanation. And you didn’t feel safe with the new leadership. Why? Why would the new leadership concern itself with you?”
His bold faith in the Most High had drawn scorn from most people, but some had seen it as a threat. Noah briefly considered sidestepping the real issue. He looked at the ground, deliberating, then back at Iradel. The Creator will protect me. Somehow. “Because I follow the Creator, and it seems like the rest of the world follows Nachash.”
The captain rolled his eyes. “I care not for religious disputes.” He tilted his head as if an important thought had just come to mind. “Nachash, that’s the god of Havil. Why would the people of Iri Geshem follow Nachash?”
Noah bit his lower lip as he contemplated how much to tell the Nodite leader. His delay frustrated his interrogator.
The man leaned forward and stared dire
ctly into Noah’s eyes. “Unless you have some useful information for me, I will not hesitate to order your execution and that of your friend. Understood?”
“The people of Iri Geshem follow Nachash because King Lamech, along with his daughter, have managed to take control of the city.”
“What do you mean? How have they taken control? An invasion? A coup?”
“Not an invasion. I’m not aware of all the details because I was in a dungeon when it happened. But I believe they helped carry out the murders of our councilmen. With the only leaders who opposed Havil out of the way, the town’s new leadership handed control of the city to Lamech without a fight.”
Iradel drew back and glanced at the soldier to his left. “And the king is currently in Iri Geshem?”
“He was yesterday. He presided over a ceremony in the arena where the people pledged their loyalty to him and Nachash.”
Iradel snapped his fingers toward the man on his left.
“Yes, sir.” The soldier saluted and hurried out the door.
Taking a deep breath, the leader returned his focus to Noah. “And if you were imprisoned, how would you know these things?”
Unsure of the significance of the captain’s hand signals, Noah stared at his muddy feet as his confidence wavered. What did I say that he didn’t already know? Regaining his composure, Noah slowly lifted his head. “Because I was brought into the arena and given the choice to bow to Nachash or to be eaten by a grendec.”
The captor raised an eyebrow. “And you forsook the Creator to save your own neck?”
“No. I would never worship Nachash.”
“A man of conviction.” The captain stared off in the distance for a moment and tapped his chin with his index finger. “How did you survive the arena then?”
“The Most High had other plans.”
A smirk crossed Iradel’s lips. “And do you think you’ll escape death today?”
Noah held up his arms and cracked a wry smile. “I’m no longer bound, and I believe I’ve already given you some useful information.”
The captain snorted. “Indeed. Perhaps you’ve given me enough to spare your life, but what about your friend and the little girl? Do you have any information to barter for theirs?”