by Tim Chaffey
Emzara shrugged. “Yeah, he does sometimes.”
“Well, I guess I’m just practicing how to be a good husband then.” Ham kissed Kezia’s hand and she giggled.
Emzara’s heart leapt and her eyes grew wide as she stared at Kezia in disbelief.
Kezia bit her lower lip and nodded slowly. “You don’t mind if I marry your baby, do you?”
Suppressing a squeal, Emzara excitedly patted Ham’s good arm as she stood before racing around him to embrace Kezia. “Oh, I’ve been hoping for this since the day you were born.” She let go and smiled at Ham. “It’s about time you struck up the courage to ask her.”
Kezia laughed. “I threatened to give him more stitches if he didn’t.”
“How’s he doing?” Noah’s voice made her jump.
Emzara rushed to embrace her husband. “Wonderful.”
* * *
“Ham seems to be healing up. He cut some boards for the ark today.” Noah lay back and placed his hands under his head, which he always did while looking up at the stars, for as long as Emzara could remember.
She rested her head on his sturdy chest and stretched her feet out. “I’m so thankful. But each time I see that scar on his cheek, I can’t help but shudder at what could have happened.”
“I think he likes it — makes him look tougher.” Noah rubbed her scalp with his fingers. “But even that mark is looking a lot better.”
“Kezia really worked wonders on him.”
“Do you mean on his injuries or on his new devotion to her?” Noah chuckled lightly, which made her head bounce a little on his chest.
“Yes.” She smiled up into the night sky. The darkened shape of the ark cut into some of the glittery host, and as she listened to his heart beating, she delighted in completing another day of work.
“I’m looking for my favorite grandson, foreman on a major undertaking, but instead I find a mere youth with his lovely young wife.”
“Grandfather!” Noah jerked, causing Emzara’s head to bounce again.
They sat up, and Emzara tucked her legs underneath her wrapped dress and smoothed the fabric over them.
Methuselah slowly lowered himself onto the grass beside them, wheezing with laughter. “Startling you never gets old, no matter how ancient I become. Pretty amazing, isn’t it?” He gestured at the structure behind them. “Everything is taking shape just as the Most High said it would.”
“Yeah.” Noah’s tone suddenly took on a somber note. He picked a blade of grass and wiggled it in his fingertips. The broken pieces, barely visible in the low light, fell to the earth in front of him.
Methuselah tilted his head to one side. “Something wrong with that?”
Noah let out a breath and shook his head. “I don’t know.”
Emzara had not heard him sound so dejected since Purlek and Evet left. “What is it?” She placed a hand on his leg.
“I don’t know if I’m ready for what’s to come.”
“Oh, well that makes two of us,” Emzara said.
“You aren’t ready for the flood?” Methuselah pointed to the ark. “That’s obvious. It isn’t finished yet.”
“That’s not it, Grandfather.” Emzara offered him a gentle smile. “Think about what the Creator told him. The ark is for him, me, our sons, and their wives. We always struggled with that. I mean, we wondered about . . . well . . . about whether those would be the only people on board. And look at all that’s happened within such a short time.”
“You mean because Garun and Laleel left? And because my son and Elam are no longer with us?
“Yes.” Emzara’s sad tone nearly matched Noah’s.
Methuselah leaned back on his hands. “Of course, you need to think about the good things as well. You already have one daughter-in-law and will have another one by this time tomorrow. And Ar’yel spends most of her days learning more about the Creator from Shem. I don’t think any of us will be surprised if she soon becomes your third daughter-in-law.”
“Yes, those things are terrific,” Emzara said. “And I truly hope you’re right about Ar’yel.”
“But, what about you, Grandfather?” Noah dropped a hand to the ground. “I’m worried about you.”
“Pah! Don’t spend your time worrying about me. I don’t think I’m meant to be on the ark.”
Noah sat straight. “What? Why?”
“I’ve lived a good long life. I saw from an early age what it meant to trust the words of the Creator. You’ve heard from Him as well, and you know He was clear in giving you the exact dimensions of this contraption, so I think you know He’s been just as clear when He told you who was going to be on board.”
“But that would mean that—”
“That I won’t be on it.” Methuselah shrugged. “Listen, Noah, when He first spoke to you, you had no children at all. And when we moved here, do you not think the Most High knew you would have three sons, each of whom would need a wife?”
Noah dropped his gaze. All was quiet except for the chorus of nightly insects around them.
“Don’t be sorry for me. The Creator will always do what’s right. Look at those who have gone before me. Trusting Him never guarantees personal safety in this life.”
“You mean like Father and Elam?”
“Yes, and a host of others.”
Emzara folded her hands together. “Like my father. And our friends Aterre, Tubal-Cain, and Adira.” Saying their names brought back memories of cherished times with them.
“Exactly.”
“And this doesn’t bother you?” Noah looked at the elderly man and clasped Emzara’s hand.
“Not anymore. The fact that I’ll die isn’t a shock to me — it’s been guaranteed ever since Greatfather sinned. Sure, I’ll miss seeing your children grow up and have their own children, but I’m tired of this world, and I want to see your father and my father again.” He lifted his index finger toward Noah. “It helps knowing that my grandson and his wife will be the ones on the ark. You need to know how proud I am of both of you. And, Noah, your father, he was, too. He talked about it all the time. He was so thrilled to know how closely you and Emzara walk with the Creator.”
Noah placed his other hand on top of Emzara’s so that her hand was sandwiched between both of his.
Methuselah gestured to the form behind him. “This ark is a testament to the Creator’s mercy in a world that deserves judgment. I find tremendous comfort in that.”
Chapter 33
Iri Geshem — Noah’s 599th year
Peering at her reflection in the oval-shaped gold panel, Naamah took inventory of her face. The horizontal lines on her forehead appeared deeper than yesterday. Creases also jagged their way from her eyes and worn lips. Tugging at her skin, she tried in vain to coax the sagging areas to tighten. A scowl made the creases even more pronounced. She sighed and brushed on a colored powder to cover some of the blotches, then pulled out a container of kohl and applied it heavily, accentuating the almond shape of her eyes. That’s a little better. Working her way down her face, she used the kohl to create twisted shapes and patterns that met up with some of the serpent markings across her bare shoulders. I can still flaunt you, my beautiful friends.
Carefully lining her lips with a deep burgundy color, she hoped it drew enough attention away from the lines. Nothing could be done for the pinkness in her eyes or the dullness in her gaze. She donned her massive crown that angled back nearly a cubit, appreciating it not only for the power it conveyed but also for its effect of drawing attention away from her aging frame.
The embellishments let people see enough to remember her beauty without letting them see the cruel effects of time. While she masked a couple centuries, she never fully escaped the constant fear of growing old and dying. She looked at her weathered hands and instantly thought of the seer’s leathery skin before he died. She sighed and shook her head. But he was 982 and I’m not even 600. Nachash, when will you teach me how to live forever?
After two thumps on the door
, Nivlac’s voice sounded from outside her room. “I’m here, my queen.”
“Come in.”
He entered her room and stared at her. Dressed in his finest ornate wrap instead of his typical armor, he would serve as both guard and consort tonight. He lowered his head. “My queen, as always, you look exquisite.”
The people of Iri Geshem had embraced Naamah’s decision to move the empire’s capital to their city, and during this initial celebration, they needed to see their queen in a more personable light. They feared and respected her, but her advisors insisted the citizens’ loyalty would significantly increase if they witnessed her enjoying a gala.
“Is everything ready?”
“Almost. The banquet hall is filling up. The last of the governors just arrived and will be seated soon.” He took several steps toward her until she felt his warm breath on her face. “You’ll enchant them with your beauty tonight, just as you always do.”
She kept silent and turned away from him.
“Is something troubling you?”
“I don’t know where to start.”
“Is it about this evening?”
“No.” She shook her head and faced him.
“Enemies?” He grabbed her hand and bowed slightly. “Tell me and I’ll take great pleasure in administering their torture.”
The corner of her lips moved upward in a half-smile before turning serious again. “It’s me.”
“Tell me what you want of me. You know I’ll do anything for you.”
Naamah pushed him back into a low cushioned bench until he sat.
She paced before him. “I’ve never spoken these words aloud.”
Nivlac rubbed his chin and waited.
“I’m still haunted by seeing my mentor’s death.”
“But he was so old. Why would that trouble you?”
She lifted her arms. “He gained strength for a while after my intercession, but then later that night, he was gone. Why didn’t Nachash spare his life like I asked him to?”
“Maybe he had nothing else to teach you. Maybe Nachash didn’t want to save him. What if you were depending too much on the old man instead of our god?”
“It shouldn’t matter. I’ve been a faithful servant all these years — he should’ve honored such a simple request. But it wasn’t so much that he died; it was how he died.” She shuddered, recalling the terrifying moments as if they occurred yesterday. “With his last breaths, he screamed about flames. Why would a man so devoted to Nachash be in such anguish?” Leaning in close to Nivlac, she kept her voice just above a whisper. “What if—” She looked around, even though no one else was in the room. “What if Nachash lied, and I’ve been deceived all these years?” She slumped to the floor.
“Those are disturbing thoughts, my queen.” He gently stroked her shoulder.
“And?”
“I can only judge what I see before me. The seer was ready to go and that was no one’s fault. If he was in pain, likely it was because of his illness, not Nachash’s inability to heal or some malevolent behavior. You’re assuming information you just don’t know and torturing yourself with it.”
She glared up at him. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see and hear his horror.”
“I’ve killed thousands of people. Most of them are terrified.”
“I know, but it wasn’t like that.” She shook her head. “His fear was far beyond anything I’ve seen before. I don’t want to die like that.” She looked down and rubbed her forehead. “I don’t want to die at all.”
“Why worry about that now? You’re healthy and have centuries to live.”
“It terrifies me every moment of the day and into the night. Nachash promised to give knowledge and understanding to make his people wise and powerful. You know the Sepha tree that is marked on your back? It isn’t just a symbol. It’s based on an actual tree that Nachash made. Those who eat of its fruit will live forever as gods. I must find that tree.” She shook with determination.
Nivlac pushed himself into a more upright position. “And the House of Knowledge doesn’t have anything about it?”
“Nothing. My scribes have covered most of the known world — and they have yet to come up with any news.”
“Let me help you. We have no more threats to the empire. I’ll pour all my energy into helping you achieve this goal.”
“Fine, but you must still serve as my chief protector.”
“There’s nothing I’d rather do.”
“Oh, you wouldn’t rather spend this evening with some of the younger, more beautiful women that will be here?”
Nivlac looked into her eyes. “My queen, no one in the world is more beautiful than you.”
She forced back a smile. “You’ve always been faithful to me.”
He stood and pulled her up, too. “Let your worries rest for tonight. Celebrate your accomplishments as queen of the world. Celebrate this new magnificent palace that was built to honor all that you’ve done both as ruler and priestess.”
Naamah shrugged and rechecked her appearance. A night of revelry would take her mind off her problems and delight her people. She took his arm and they marched out of the room. As they descended the wide, winding staircase, Nivlac guided her into the large throne room and to her chair on the raised dais.
A herald raced over and bowed before her. He stood and turned to face the audience. “People of Iri Geshem, of Havil, and of the world, I present to you the beautiful, the brilliant, the proud, the pious, the mistress of Nachash . . . Naamah of Havil, Queen of the World.”
As cheers erupted, Naamah inhaled deeply and raised her hands. Nivlac stood beside her, beckoning the people to exult her. The volume of praise increased as the frenzied crowd lauded their leader.
“Let us dedicate this night to Nachash!” She bowed her head and waited for the crowd to follow her lead. “O mighty Nachash, thank you for the gifts you have bestowed upon us. Help the people enjoy your festival.” And guide me to the tree of immortality, and you’ll receive praise like this from the whole world forever.
Lifting her head, she flashed a smile, and those in attendance broke into renewed cheers. With a flick of her wrist, her bangles clinked against each other, and the musicians, led by Jubal, played a tune to signal the start of the festivities.
Naamah made her way around the room, greeting each person as if they were her oldest friend. She sipped intoxicating beverages from golden goblets, savored the heavy smell of incense, and enjoyed the pulsating music. But none of that compared to the many praises she received about her beauty and accomplishments.
Eventually, longing for a slight reprieve from the gaiety, she sashayed to the tall colonnades, each crowned by half a dozen rows of scalloped carvings ornamenting the tops like a fine lace.
She rested her hands against the column behind her. The sea breeze dusted her cheeks with a light mist, and she held her face out appreciatively. She grinned as she thought about the two homes that had previously occupied this spot. Noah may have escaped her grasp in the arena, but she would wipe his name from the people’s memory as easily as she wiped his home from the land. After demolishing the buildings, she deliberately set the palace’s cornerstone on the three nearby graves.
Looking to the east, she spied the bustling shipyard and harbor that boasted her finest ships. An image of its previous owner appeared in her mind, and she glared into the distance. He was so sure that he’d survive the arena. How could he know? She shook her head and took comfort in the answer she had given herself many times. He’s delusional and was just very lucky. Her thoughts suddenly turned to the night she became queen. My father was so sure that he’d live beyond a thousand years, but he was wrong. She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. He was wrong about so much. Such a fool. So arrogant. To think that he cursed the person who dared to kill him that he’d be avenged seventy-seven-fold. As if he had such power. A short laugh escaped her lungs. “Empty words, nothing more.”
Uninvited, an image of the seer’
s final moments pushed into her thoughts, causing a chill to run down her spine. Will I face death in fear like him or with confidence like Noah? She shook her head. I won’t face it at all after we find that tree. Being alone made it easy for her thoughts to attack her, so she reentered the great hall to enjoy the merriment. She returned to her throne and sat down, stroking the armrests and watching the barely clad dancers before her.
In a brief break between songs, Tsek approached her. “Pardon the interruption, my queen.”
“What is it?”
“I bring important news and a gift.” With a hand signal, he ordered a pair of guards to lead two bound prisoners toward them. The captives’ heads were covered with black cloth.
Naamah glanced about the giant hall. Most of the people continued in their revelry, although a handful stared at the prisoners. She tipped her head toward Tsek. “Speak.”
“The rumors about your half-brother Jabal and his mother, Adah, were true. We found them living among a group of people in the western frontier.”
Naamah sat up and looked closely at the prisoners. “And you’ve brought them here?”
“We followed your orders.” Tsek pointed toward the musicians. “Jubal is all that remains of your immediate family.”
A smile tugged at her lips. “Did they suffer?”
He shrugged. “Based on their screams, my guess is that they didn’t enjoy being burned alive in their tents.”
“Excellent.” She pointed toward the captives. “And my gift?”
“Before we torched the village, one of my men overhead these two discussing something you need to hear.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Now I’m curious.”
Prodded by the guards, the prisoners shuffled forward and knelt in front of her.
Tsek lifted the veil from the female first.
The woman’s disheveled black hair hung over her dark face. She breathed in shallow gasps as she glanced around with her wide eyes peering through her hair.
Naamah leaned back, enjoying the opportunity to watch the frightened woman. She turned her attention to the other prisoner, a broad-shouldered man with strong arms.