Noah: Man of God

by Tim Chaffey

  She grabbed the healer’s shoulder. “You saw him before. Tell me, has moving him here made him worse?” She cringed, hating to vocalize the question that troubled her.

  “No, princess, but I fear that these are among his last moments.” Concern etched across his face, but she could not tell if it was for the seer’s well-being or his own, being the bearer of such unwanted news. For once, her anxiety surpassed her anger, and she did not lash out at him. “Can you do nothing?” What have I been reduced to, pleading with this insignificant fool?

  “Let me have access to him, and I’ll do what I can.”

  “Fine, but you’re not to disturb the priests.” She had never put much trust in healers and she certainly was not going to start now. They usually annoyed her, especially since the one in Iri Geshem saved her father’s life.

  The man tucked his small frame between two of the priests and knelt by the bed. He listened to the seer’s ragged, shallow breaths. His fingers poked various places. He held up the patient’s left hand and let it drop then repeated the process. Finally, he looked up at her. “It’s as I thought. I can do nothing more for him but give him something that may dull the pain. His body is hanging on but I fear his time is very short.”

  “Fool! You know nothing!”

  “He’s not responding to the noise in here, to touch, or—”

  “Silence!” Naamah straightened to her full height and leveled a withering glare at him. “Thank you for proving to me just how worthless you and your kind are.”

  He cowered and lifted a small vial to her. “Do you still want the medicine for the pain?”

  “Ha! As if that would help.” She slapped it out of his hands and it skittered across the floor. “You there.” She beckoned to a guard along the wall. When he came quickly to her side, she said, “Restrain this useless man — this pile of refuse. Let him see the might and power of Nachash.”

  The healer struggled, but he was no match for the raw strength of the soldier. It was like watching a fish squirm in the grasp of a mighty taroc.

  Naamah released a loud long wail, which held a single note for several moments and then climbed to a much higher pitch before she took a quick breath. Instantly, the commotion of the priests stopped and they bowed low. Rolling her eyes back into her skull, she bared her arms and moved them in circular patterns over the unconscious seer. Her powerful voice sang incantations he had taught her centuries ago. As she twisted her body and accompanied the eerie sounds with sudden bending at the waist, her fingernails almost grazed the skin of the man she considered to be her father. Low melodic hums came from behind her as the priests added their vocal petitions.

  She pulled out a knife and etched a scar on her arm, piercing the skin. Blood oozed and she let it drip onto the seer’s bare chest. As the red drops hit his flesh, she breathed deeply, muttering barely above a whisper.

  Suddenly, he opened his eyes wide and coughed. His skin reclaimed a tinge of color, and his breathing returned to normal. He held her hand as her tears flowed freely. “Thank you, my daughter.”

  She bowed her head, silently sobbing as her shoulders shook. After managing to control her emotions, she stood, not caring about the smears of kohl from her black-rimmed eyes. “Praise to Nachash, the all-powerful who has healed his most faithful servant.”

  The priests in the room repeated her chant.

  The healer stared at her from the clutches of the sturdy guard.

  “And that’s how a true healing is performed.” She dismissed them with a wave of her hand and smiled as the guard led his prisoner away. She would grant his release in the morning, after he endured a long night in the dungeon.

  Kneeling again, Naamah gently brushed the seer’s forehead and temples with a wet cloth while offering prayers of thanksgiving to her god. She adjusted the blankets and tucked the pillows, but left the blood in place. He smiled weakly as he watched her. She finally looked up and noticed they were alone. The warm light from the candles and lamps flickered dimly.

  “You saved my life, my dear child.” The seer cupped her face with his hands.

  “No, it wasn’t me. Nachash saved your life. And you helped, through your patient training all these years.”

  “Ah, but tonight you were his mistress, providing for my healing through your use of his power.”

  She smiled and let the warmth of his words comfort her.

  “Now, my daughter.” He brushed her cheeks with his thumb. “You need rest.”

  “Let me stay with you.”

  “As you have said, you’ll be right in the next room and can hear me should I need you during the night. Be at peace. You’ve done your greatest service to me already.”

  * * *

  Thrashing from the adjoining room woke Naamah suddenly. Her bare feet hit the floor as she dashed through the curtained entryway. In the moonlight, she glanced at the bed but could not see him. Her heart pounded. She rounded the platform and spotted the seer on the floor, writhing in a tangled blend of man and sheet. The large statue of Nachash cast a shadow on his moving form. He screamed and clawed at the air, causing a shiver of fear to rock her frame from head to toe. Casting about the room wildly, she sensed another presence but saw no one.

  Again the seer screamed in pain and jerked his body. She grasped at his hands but missed. Blindly waving in a panic, he scratched her face, and she quickly stepped back. Never had she witnessed anything like this before. She ran behind the towering gold idol and clung tightly to the cold metal. We saved him today. Why is he behaving this way? Spare his life, I beg — No! I demand it!

  Helplessly, she watched from her protected place. The open-eyed but detached man placed his hands on the floor and with strength beyond anything he had exhibited in decades, pushed himself to a seated position. A loud baleful yell emerged from his depths, and she trembled uncontrollably. His eyes locked on hers, but it was as if he stared right through her.

  Nachash, what are you doing to your servant? You have the power, save him!

  Without blinking, the seer screamed in terror. “The flames! They burn!” Then he collapsed to the ground, his head hitting the floor with a thud.

  After many moments of silence, she slowly edged her way around the golden serpent-god, keeping one hand on it for safety. The seer’s eyes remained open, staring blankly at the ceiling. Was he really gone? Or was he under the healing power of Nachash? She leaned forward, longing to know, but afraid to move much closer.

  Without warning, his body convulsed and she jumped back. He wailed again. “The pain, it burns like a thousand fires! O God, what have I d—” His voice caught in his throat. As if someone had extinguished the flame of a candle, a final breath escaped his lungs and his body went limp.

  Naamah fell at the molded base of Nachash and let the pain rip her insides to shreds. Feeling smaller and more alone than ever before, she screamed as loud as her lungs allowed. Finally she slumped down and closed her eyes, but only for a moment. The seer’s final moments replayed in her mind, haunting her.

  Chapter 21

  Naamah stared at the massive serpent idol behind her father. Not once tonight, in the annual ceremony dedicated to Nachash, had the king credited the mighty god for their victories and prosperity. How arrogant! She balled up her fists.

  Her temperature rose with the heat of the glare she directed at her father, and his words were drowned out by her hatred and the sound of her own pulse pounding in her ears. She clenched her jaw as she considered how to respond to his irreverence.

  Lamech held his arms out and laughed. The roar of the enormous crowd yanked her away from her introspection.

  What did he say? Naamah blinked and took a deep breath.

  The king strutted back to the gold statue above his throne. He patted it twice and smiled. “Nachash has become more powerful than the Creator by leading the world to follow him.”

  Naamah relaxed her shoulders a little and lifted her chin, hoping that the king would now give Nachash his due praise and elimina
te the need for a potentially deadly confrontation during the ceremony. She wasn’t ready to clash with the king openly. Not yet.

  Lamech moved proudly toward the front of the stage and beheld the tens of thousands gathered in the vast courtyard. “But just as the serpent sheds its skin as it grows” — the king allowed his gold-bedecked outer robe to slide off his shoulders and drop to the ground — “we have outgrown our need for ideas from the past.” He smirked at Naamah before facing the audience and taking a deep breath. “With our defeat of the Nodites, we became more powerful than anyone or anything else — even more powerful than Nachash himself.”

  “No!” Naamah’s scream drew hundreds of gasps from the multitude below. “Don’t listen to such profane speech!” She narrowed her gaze at the king. “You—”

  Her father scoffed and pointed to a pair of nearby guards. “Bind her.”

  Naamah reached for the dagger hidden in the bracer, but before she could touch it, a soldier grabbed her wrists in a painful grip, while the other pulled out some rope. She headbutted him, causing lights to explode in her own vision. Her knees buckled slightly as they bound her arms. Her head throbbed as she attempted to focus on her father. “How dare you blaspheme Nachash, the Splendor of the World, the supreme god!”

  Chuckling, Lamech swaggered toward her but kept his voice low enough for only those on the platform to hear. “No. How dare you blaspheme and curse me. I am the god of this world now.”

  Naamah’s eyes grew wide, and she struggled to break free from her captors, but their strength far exceeded her own. “Treachery! Blasphemy!”

  Lamech slapped her and she tasted blood. “Silence her!”

  The guard on her left stuffed a large cloth into her mouth as she writhed and shouted invectives at the king. The pungent odor on the rag nearly made her pass out, but as the blackness closed in on her, she found renewed vigor in her anger. Standing upright and concentrating on taking measured breaths, she ignored the cloth. A second strike from her father did nothing to wipe away the scowl she fixed on him. A tear slid down her cheek from the pain, but it only fed her rage. Why doesn’t Nachash do anything? Why aren’t they being struck with another earth shaking like before?

  Turning his back on her, the king returned to the front of the stage and held out his arms. “My people, it saddens me that my own daughter, the princess of Havil and your high priestess for many centuries, has rebelled against me.” He waited for the horde to focus on him as he played the victim.

  “For several years now, Naamah has sought to usurp my throne.” He faced her and shook his head. “Foolish child, did you really think you could keep secrets from me in my own city? I’m well aware of your seditious schemes.”

  Naamah fought to control the fear rising inside her. What does he know? What will he do? Prison? An image of Tubal-Cain’s bloodied body on the floor of the arena flashed in her mind. No, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill his own flesh and blood.

  “I know this turn of events may be shocking for most of you.” Lamech paced and spoke confidently. “Before announcing her sentence, I will reveal her crimes. When you have heard all, you will agree that my decision is just. First, she has repeatedly challenged my authority as king, both in private and in public, as she has just done again.” He stopped several cubits before her and looked into her eyes while speaking quietly. “For the last time.”

  Walking back across the platform, he feigned sadness. “Imagine. My own daughter inciting treason against the very man who raised her and gave her everything she’s ever had.” He stood tall and crossed his arms. “But no kingdom can tolerate such dissension and division. And I have tolerated it for far too long.”

  Lifting a hand above his head, he raised two fingers. “Her second crime is that she attempted to replace me with her mentor during my latest voyage. She moved his belongings into my chambers and even allowed him to sleep in my bed.” Once again, he waited for the crowd to express their displeasure and rally behind him. “Men, how would you feel if your own daughter sought to replace you?” He shot Naamah a pained look and placed his hand over his heart.

  She screamed at him, but the cloth muffled her cry. His words and actions muddled her thoughts, destroying any hope of escape. Nachash, help me. We’re going to lose everything. Show me what to do.

  “And do you know what happened to this pretender, this would-be father?” After a pregnant pause for effect, he climbed down two steps and sat at the top of the stairs. “The old man died in his sleep on the first night in my room.” He shook his head and smirked. “It seems to me that Nachash also disapproved of my daughter’s betrayal.” His laugh led many in the crowd to mimic him.

  A trace of guilt struck her, but she rapidly dismissed it. She seethed at the masterful way her father manipulated the crowd and twisted her actions to be seen in the worst possible light. Always the coward, he afforded her no opportunity to defend herself. Please, Nachash!

  “But the worst crime of all occurred 30 years ago when we peacefully took over the city of Iri Geshem.” He stood again and slowly moved toward her. “For a long time, I tried to deny my suspicions, but her actions have been confirmed. I was poisoned and would’ve died if it weren’t for the fast and skillful work of a master healer.” He grinned at her as he spoke of the healer, knowing full well her hatred for their craft.

  Holding one arm toward her, he faced the masses. “She put the poison in my cup! She is the murdering wretch who would kill her own father — her king! Now, I ask you, what should I do with such a rebel?”

  Thousands of shouts reverberated through the square. “The dungeon! Exile! Death!”

  Naamah glared at Lamech and attempted to shout, “I hate you!” but the cloth muffled and distorted the words.

  He beheld her and gave her a pained look before dropping his shoulders and lowering his gaze. Slowly, he nodded and faced the crowd again, waiting for the noise to subside. “This is the most difficult decision I’ve ever made as your king. But in a way, I’m not even making it. My daughter has forced my hand. She has condemned herself through her rebellious actions.”

  Lamech sighed and turned toward Naamah before his gaze drifted above her head and a wicked smile crossed his lips.

  He wouldn’t dare! She struggled to break free, but the rope around her wrists held fast.

  The king pointed past her. “Put her on the altar she loves so much.”

  The guards easily dragged her back a few steps and then lifted her onto the blood-stained altar where dozens of infants had just been slaughtered.

  “My people, surely it would be just for me to simply carry out this execution in an unceremonious manner. But as a final act of kindness toward her, I believe my daughter would agree that if she must die, she would like nothing better than to give her life as an offering to her god.”

  One guard lashed her feet to separate sides of the slab while the other held her shoulders down.

  “Commander Tsek!” The king beckoned the large man across the stage. As Tsek made his way to them, Lamech grabbed the bloodied sacrificial dagger and spun it slowly between him and Naamah, making sure she could see every curve of the glinting blade and his sinister smile behind it.

  Tsek stopped beside him. “Yes, my king.”

  Without taking his eyes off Naamah, Lamech held the jagged knife toward him. “You will have the honor of carrying out the greatest sacrifice ever given to Nachash.”

  The commander hesitated before shakily taking the blade.

  Lamech held up a hand. “Wait.” He took a deep breath and raised his voice. “Before Naamah is sacrificed, I will show her one last kindness — an opportunity to speak for herself.”

  At Lamech’s gesture, one of the guards removed the gag from her mouth. She snapped her teeth at the man as he quickly pulled his hand away. Her bindings holding fast, she took in a full breath. Knowing that her fate was sealed, she refused to beg for her life. With a loud and clear voice, she spoke. “The king lies. He seeks to blind you with his cra
fty words. You know that I have devoted my life to his service. I have sought the wisdom of Nachash for our people and sacrificed much for his intercession. I am innocent of these charges, but my only desire is that Nachash accepts my life as a pleasing offering on behalf of the people.” She shook with a level of hatred she had not felt before. “Nachash will judge the king for his actions here today.”

  Lamech shook his head and mocked her with a sympathetic smile. “Pity. You played your role perfectly for a long time, and there were days that I enjoyed having you around. But now, you’re too much of a liability.” He stared into her eyes and lowered his hand. “Tsek. Do it.”

  Naamah’s eyes darted to the commander, who remained frozen in place.

  “Commander Tsek, did you hear me?”

  “Yes, my king.” As he slowly raised the dagger, her large brown eyes focused on the man behind the deadly weapon. After what seemed like an eternity, he lowered the blade. “I’m sorry, Majesty. I can’t do it.”

  Naamah released a tense breath.

  “Then you will join her.” Lamech spun and grabbed the blade’s handle. He called several guards over. “Detain Commander Tsek.” He stared up at the large man. “After all these years, you defy me.”

  Tsek did not resist the guards, but he stood tall as they restrained him. “I have no desire to disobey you, but I cannot bring myself to kill the king’s daughter.”

  Lamech snorted and shook his head. “I see now where your loyalty truly lies. I will consider your fate later.”

  The king clenched a fist and spoke to the audience. “My daughter’s treachery has even twisted the loyalty of my most trusted commander. But now her rebellion must end.”

  Naamah shot a glance at Tsek, but the four guards held him still. “Nachash, save me now. Do not let this wretch get away with defiling your name.”

  Lamech laughed. “Your serpent god is powerless to stop me because I am now more powerful than he is.” He raised the dagger above his head with both hands.

  Feeling her head clear, Naamah quickly repeated a spell the seer had taught her years earlier.