Noah: Man of God

by Tim Chaffey

  Jerah hesitated as he seemed to consider Noah’s words. “So what are the reasons? Why a flood?”

  “Right. Well, if He just killed everyone in their sleep, then they would have no warning — no time to cry out for the Most High’s forgiveness. With a flood, many people will see the water before it takes them. They will have a few moments to plead with the Creator. Perhaps He will show mercy and forgive them.”

  Jerah shrugged. “That makes some sense.” He crossed his arms. “I still don’t like it, though. What’s the second reason?”

  “This one may be more speculative.” Noah pointed toward the road to Iri Sana. “What happens to the old road whenever there’s a rainstorm?”

  “The water washes out portions of it and we need to fill them back in.”

  Noah nodded. “That’s right. Water is extremely powerful, and it leaves evidence that it’s been there. Maybe a reason for choosing a flood is that it will leave vivid reminders of the Creator’s judgment — a warning for all future generations.”

  “You’ve really thought this through, and I understand those reasons, but it still seems cruel to me.”

  “I know.” Noah’s eyes moistened. “And I know you aren’t coming with us, and it pains me to think that I won’t see you again.” Noah embraced his brother. “Promise me that you’ll never follow Nachash. Stay true to the Creator, just as Father urged us to do.”

  Jerah pulled back. “You’ve given me much to think about.”

  “I need to go.” Noah held out his arm for their traditional forearm shake. “I love you, Brother.”

  Chapter 28

  Western Frontier — Noah’s 595th year

  Ham scanned the rolling hills. “None of this looks familiar yet. Maybe we passed it already.”

  Seated behind him in the wagon, Shem pointed ahead and to the right. “I told you: we still need to travel north for a couple more days before we find our trail.”

  “And you figured that out from looking at the stars last night?” Ham spun to face him. “How is it that I can work out how to build just about anything, but I can’t make sense of the stars?”

  “Let’s take a short break,” Shem said to Elam as he put down his game pieces on the seat between them.

  “Sure.” Elam set his pieces down, too.

  Shem leaned forward, sticking his head between his father and brother. “Not the stars — just one star. Remember the one I showed you that’s always in the north?”

  Ham nodded.

  “You check its angle above the horizon, and that will tell you how far north or south you are, right, Father?”

  “That’s right. We can show you how to do that tonight. Looks like it’ll be clear.”

  The heat of the day finally relented as the sun slowly dropped in the cloudless sky ahead. Nearly three whole moons had passed since they departed from Iri Sana. Instead of journeying north by water for several weeks and then west, they had sought a more direct route due to the dangers of the river. Farms, villages, and a few sizeable cities speckled the landscape during the first three weeks, before yielding weeks ago to the vast open grasslands they now traversed.

  “What’s that smell?” Elam asked.

  Ham sniffed the air. “I don’t—”

  “It smells like death.” Noah frowned.

  “That’s what I thought, too,” Elam said. “Where’s it coming from?”

  They rode in silence for a short distance while climbing a hill. As they neared the top, Ham abruptly raised his left arm. “Right there.”

  Noah followed the direction his son pointed and spotted the source of the stench. The dead body of a large, horn-faced beast on the far edge of the ridge grabbed his focus. As he drew back on the reins, the pair of dependable tuskers slowed to a halt. “Let’s go take a look. I need to stretch my legs anyway.”

  “That’s the biggest creature I’ve ever seen. Is that an earth shaker?” Ham asked.

  Elam snorted. “No, these are horn faces. Earth shakers have long necks and can be much bigger.”

  Ham’s eyes grew wide. “Bigger than that?”

  Noah stepped to the ground. “They can be almost as large as our construction barn.”

  Ham rolled his eyes. “There’s no way.”

  “It’s true,” Elam said. “Their legs are like tree trunks and so are their tails.”

  “Are you just teasing us?” Shem raced past them toward the carcass.

  Noah grinned. “No. Why do you think they’re called earth shakers? The ground actually trembles when they walk. Besides, there are even larger creatures in the sea.”

  Shem stopped and covered his mouth as he reached the body. His shoulders slumped and he shook his head repeatedly.

  Noah picked up his pace to reach his son.

  Shem gestured to the valley as Noah drew near. “It’s horrible.”

  Covering his nose with part of his wrap, Noah’s heart sank as he surveyed the scene before him. Strewn about the slope below lay dozens of slaughtered horn-faced beasts. A couple of tarocs picked chunks of flesh off the nearest remains and swallowed them whole. In the distance, some spotted furry scavengers also made a meal of the corpses. Strangely enough, the dead animals lacked their most notable feature, the long pointy horns protruding from their heads. The large stout bodies and fan-shaped frill on the top of their heads clearly identified them as horn faces, but only bloody cavities remained where the beautiful horns once grew. Noah’s temperature rose and he balled his fists.

  “What could do this?” Shem nodded toward a young animal lying next to a larger one. “Even a little one.”

  “Not what,” Elam said. “Who.”

  Shem pointed at the nearest beast. “People did this?”

  Noah let out a deep breath. “Yes. Notice only the horns are missing. If grendecs or some other beasts had done this, they wouldn’t have taken those — they would’ve eaten the body. Looks like someone killed all these animals just for their horns.”

  “That means there are people in this area,” Ham said. “And by the looks of it, they probably aren’t the type we want to meet.”

  “I agree. We should move on.” Noah pointed to a wooded area across the valley. “We’ll head for the trees and then travel north, like Shem indicated. Does that work for you, Son?” Noah put a hand on Shem’s shoulder.

  Tears ran down the young man’s cheeks. “I can’t believe someone would do this.”

  Noah guided his son toward the wagon, searching for words that would help. “It’s another reminder of how wicked people have become.”

  Shem punched a fist into his opposite palm. “This makes me so angry.”

  “And it should. The Creator made man to care for His creation — not destroy it.” Noah sighed. “But we have corrupted everything through our sin.”

  Shem climbed into the wagon and sat down. “I wish I could see what it was like before Greatfather rebelled.”

  “So do I.” Noah cupped his son’s shoulder and settled into his seat. He drove the wagon down the hill, dodging several rotting carcasses along the way. Upon reaching the tree line, they turned north and stuck to the edge of the woods. Moments later, the snapping of branches far ahead made the two tuskers jittery. Birds scattered away from the source of the sound, and several furry creatures bolted out of the forest nearly 200 cubits ahead. The unmistakable sounds of massive footsteps filled the air.

  “What’s happening?” Ham asked.

  “What is that?” Shem stood up, bracing himself on Noah’s shoulder, trying to see.

  Elam shushed the boys and pointed directly to their left. “In there.”

  “Good idea.” Noah quickly turned the tuskers into the woods. Ducking down and pushing a low-lying branch of a needle tree over them, Noah kept his voice low as he said, “We need to stay out of sight.”

  The heavy footsteps pounded to their right, but the branch-snapping stopped abruptly. Noah halted the wagon about 50 cubits into the forest. “Don’t make a sound, but be ready to run if neces
sary.”

  All four men watched the edge of the forest. A deafening roar reverberated through the trees, causing them to cover their ears. Fear filled Shem’s and Ham’s eyes as they looked at Noah.

  Noah put a finger to his lips and then pointed for them to keep focused. A few more footsteps shook the ground before the source appeared. An enormous head boasting a huge mouth filled with long, sharp teeth came into view as the beast moved past a small opening in the trees, and then massive legs and a long, swaying tail followed. The beast seemed unaware of their presence as it stomped through the grass toward the fallen horn faces.

  Noah leaned forward and spoke calmly to the tuskers as they threatened to bolt. “Easy. It’s alright.”

  White-knuckling the wagon’s bench, Ham stared wide-eyed at Noah and spoke quietly. “Is . . . is that a grendec?”

  “Yes,” Elam said. “It doesn’t have horns on its head, like the one your father and I faced.” He raised his eyebrows. “But I think this one’s much bigger.”

  Shem turned to face them, his mouth open in shock. He sat silently for a moment as if willing himself to speak and then blinked. “Can we go now?”

  “Soon. Let’s wait until it starts eating so it’s distracted.” Noah raised his eyebrows. “Awesome, isn’t it?”

  Shem swallowed and nodded.

  Bone-crunching sounds of the grendec feeding sent shivers through Noah’s body. Shem winced, and Ham looked slightly green. Noah prodded the tuskers to advance between the widely spaced needle trees. Once the sounds from the grendec could no longer be heard, Noah encouraged the tuskers to increase their speed a little. Eventually, Shem and Ham relaxed and began chattering about the size of the beast and peppering Noah and Elam with questions about them.

  After a while, they came across a small break in the woods that at one point may have been a man-made trail running north and south. “Let’s head north for a bit, and then we’ll try to cut back to the edge of the forest.”

  The path made for easier travel. Only occasionally did they need to duck under branches or slow down to clear a path around obstructions. Elam handed out bread rounds that he had baked the evening before in a small, portable clay oven they purchased in one of the villages.

  The snack satisfied Noah’s grumbling stomach, but he longed for one of Emzara’s bread rounds hot out of the oven and dipped in savory root stew. And he longed to hold her again. He knew they were drawing closer, but privately he worried that it might still take several weeks to find Eden.

  As they entered a small clearing, Noah stared at an odd sight ahead. “Whoa!” He pulled hard on the reins and stopped the wagon.

  “What is that?” Ham asked.

  “I’m not sure.” Noah stepped out of the wagon and walked toward the edge of a large pit in the ground. The massive hole stretched about 40 cubits across and the walls were at least twice as deep as Noah was tall. Bones completely covered the floor and rose to nearly ground level in the middle. “With all the dark shadows, I almost drove straight into it.”

  “Do you think it’s where the grendec lives?” Shem asked.

  “No, this is man-made,” Ham said. “Look at the sides of the pit. No beast dug this.”

  “I think you’re right,” Elam said. “We should go.”

  “Don’t move!” The voice from above held a firm tone, but it was not angry.

  Noah held his palms up and looked into the trees. He gasped as his mind slowly comprehended what he saw. Large wooden platforms and bridges traversed the treetops high above. At roughly halfway up to the platforms, perhaps 15 cubits in the air, five men stood on small tree stands ready to fire arrows at them. “Don’t shoot.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  Noah’s eyes darted to the man to the right of the one he had been watching. A blood-stained wrap hung loosely over his shoulder, and a long white dagger hung from his belt. The blade might have been made of bone. The man’s headgear boasted a design that also seemed to be made of bone and gave Noah the impression that he held a position of authority. “We were traveling through the area when a grendec caused us to go off course. Then we stopped when I saw this pit.”

  “What’s a grendec?”

  Noah described the nightmarish creature.

  “Ah yes. The giant mouth-killer.” The man gestured to the platforms above. “They are the reason we live up in the trees, and” — he pointed to the hole — “why we have the bone pit.” He snapped his fingers and three of the men swiftly slid to the ground on ropes.

  “Please, we mean you no harm.” Noah stepped slightly to the side to shield his sons.

  The man smiled. “I believe you. We mean you no harm either, but if you remain down there, harm will likely come to you. What did you call them . . . grendecs? This forest is full of them at night.”

  The three men approached and looked in their wagon. One of them looked up and shook his head. “No weapons.”

  Noah shrugged. “Like I said. We were just passing through and didn’t even notice your village until you said something.”

  “What’s your name, stranger?” the man with the headgear asked.

  “I’m Noah.” He quickly introduced the others.

  “Noah, I’m called Ek’tura. For your own protection, I invite you to stay here tonight. Then in the morning, you can continue your journey.”

  Noah glanced at the others. “What do you think?”

  “They seem nice enough,” Ham said.

  Shem kept his voice low. “What if they were the people who killed the horn faces?”

  “What if he’s telling the truth about grendecs in this forest?” Elam asked.

  “It doesn’t look like we have much of a choice.” An uneasy feeling rose in Noah’s chest, but he thought of the monster they had seen earlier and frowned. “Let’s stay with them, but remain alert just the same.” After the others agreed, Noah looked up. “Thank you. We’d be honored to stay here tonight. I’m very interested to see what it’s like living up in the trees.”

  “I’ll be happy to show you.” The man whistled two short high-pitched sounds. Immediately, a small platform high above them, suspended by four ropes, slowly lowered toward the ground.

  Noah pointed to the descending object. “Is this how we get up there?”

  “Yes. My men will escort you, and I’ll greet you when you reach the top.”

  “What about our wagon and animals?” Noah asked.

  The man pointed to the opposite side of the bones. “Put the wagon behind those trees over there. The pit will offer some protection, and we have guards out here all night.”

  “As you say.” Noah drove the wagon around the hole and instructed Elam, Shem, and Ham to take any valuable items with them if they could be carried — in case their hosts became too interested in their belongings. Noah hid his string of gold piks and pikkas in a concealed pocket of his wrap, though he doubted he would have use for them again. Shem made a point of grabbing the map.

  Soon they joined one of the guards on the lift and were steadily raised into the tree top village. Noah tried to hide his surprise when he stepped off the plank. A platform stood before him with one walkway straight ahead that seemed to connect to an even larger platform. Four small bridges ran to other areas of the village, and from this vantage point, he could see dozens of other bridges, platforms, and even several small buildings.

  “Noah, welcome to our home,” Ek’tura said as he approached. The top of his head reached only to Noah’s mouth, but his musclebound frame accentuated his imposing presence. “Come, let me introduce you to our leader.”

  Noah raised his eyebrows. So this man isn’t even the leader. Ek’tura led them straight ahead onto the large bridge, which bounced a little as they walked across it. Much of the architecture and most of the decorations around the platforms and bridges consisted of bones. Some were carved and shaped to resemble birds and beasts while others remained uncut and placed in a pattern. Noah looked askance at a grotesque sculpture of a strange
beast devouring a man. They’re infatuated with death. The uneasy feeling in his chest tightened into a knot.

  They stepped onto the other platform and turned right. Huge bone sculptures of birds and beasts lined either side of the area. On the opposite end, a man rested on a large chair made of bones. To his right stood a muscular man with a bald head and serrated spear that seemed to be carved out of a single bone. On his left, a young woman dressed in furry hides and holding a similar spear stared at them as they approached. Her expression exuded confidence, more than making up for her lack of size. Suspended high above the chair, a massive grendec skull angled down at them with its jaw agape.

  “My chief,” Ek’tura said. “I’d like to introduce Noah and his companions. They were on a journey, and I invited them to stay with us this evening to protect them from the night creatures.”

  The chief stood and nodded to Ek’tura. “A wise decision. The forest floor is too dangerous in the dark.” He stepped toward Noah’s group and looked them over from head to toe. “Welcome to our village, Noah. I’m Chief Ov’anit. Where have you come from?”

  “Thank you, Chief. We’ve traveled far from the east, from a city called Iri Sana. These are my companions, Elam, Shem, and Ham.”

  “I haven’t heard of such a place, but that’s no surprise. My people do not travel far.” He glanced at Shem. “Is something troubling you, young man?”

  Shem cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, sir. I’m a little nervous being up this high in the air. And I’ve never seen anything like this.” He gestured to the large sculptures. “I’m trying to get used to it.”

  The chief smiled. “Have no fear. Our village is very safe.” He returned to his seat. “Noah, we’d be honored if the four of you would join us for our evening meal.”

  Noah nodded. “We’re grateful for your kindness to strangers like us.”