Noah

by Tim Chaffey

  “Why five years? That’s longer than the normal time for an apprenticeship.”

  “That’s true, but it’s the right amount of time for something else.”

  “What do you mean?” She shook her head, “I don’t understand.”

  Abruptly, Noah shifted the conversation. “I have something for you here.” He searched through the satchel, taking care that she couldn’t see inside. “I made this.” He held out a delicately carved figure of a keluk.

  “My favorite.” She accepted it eagerly and turned the animal over, fingering the expertly whittled ridges, when suddenly she became aware of a leather strap looped around the animal.

  “What’s this?” She glanced up at Noah.

  “Look at it.”

  Slowly she unwound it from the carving and saw a little wooden disc attached in the center of the length of leather. She turned the front of the circle to face her and held it in her palm. A delicate outline of a rainbow rested on a small line of land. She blinked, not fully comprehending, when Noah gently took her hand in his and pointed to the token.

  “I carved it. The land on the bottom here is from my father’s symbol. But instead of having a stalk of grain coming out from it, I thought it might be nice if we had a rainbow.” He clasped both of her hands in his. “Zara, you’re my one condition. And you’re the reason for the five years.” His chest heaved and he spoke rapidly. “I care for you so much that I want you by me always. A thousand years if the Creator gives us that long.” His hands trembled in hers. “I know you’re not of age yet and won’t be for another five years. But when that time comes — I talked to your father, but Em, I need to know if —” For the first time he paused the rush of his words and beheld her eyes. “If you want to be my wife.”

  “Noah,” her eyes filled with tears. “I can’t think of anything I’d rather be.”

  “So that’s a yes?”

  Emzara looked at him, emotions inside her swelling and feeling as if they would pound forth, just like the waterfall that surged into the pool beyond them. Angling in toward him, she rested her hand on his chest and tilted her head. “Yes.”

  He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her in closer. As he slowly leaned in, her heart pounded as both delight and contentment overwhelmed her.

  “ARRWAK!”

  The sudden piercing cry startled her, causing her to pull her lips away from his. They both jumped to their feet and looked around. Emzara’s hand flew to her chest.

  Noah laughed. “We have company.”

  Soaring above them, two supergliders nipped and squawked at each other. She had seen them flying over the bay several times, but they never ventured too close to the city. Now, up close, she staggered at the magnitude of these creatures. Whisper-thin leathery wings spread out at least five cubits to either side of their slender yet powerful bodies. The pointy beaks in front and long crests protruding from the back of their heads made them somewhat comical in appearance, but with their fierce temperaments, no one would dare tell them they looked funny.

  As the pounding of her heart subsided, the humor in the moment made Emzara laugh. She watched as the two animals tumbled in the air. “Guess we did come to see them up close.” She grinned and twined her fingers with his as she leaned into his body. “Think we’ll ever squawk at each other like that?”

  “With your spunk and my self-assurance?” He winked at her. “Perhaps.”

  “Noah, I —” Suddenly her heart was too full to give way to the words she wanted most to express.

  “I know. Me too,” he finished softly.

  Chapter 21

  Land of Havilah — Noah’s 45th year

  Naamah tucked her veil a little more over her face before leaving the relative safety of the tree trunk. The night was full of shadows and stars. Crossing the few paces between the edge of the forest and the clearing where the little house stood, she wished for just a few more clouds to aid in her concealment. She darted to the door and rapped lightly on the wood, huddling up against the cool mud exterior as if she might somehow be swallowed into the wall itself.

  The door opened and an aged man stooped his head under the top of the frame and looked about. “Good sir. Could you help me?” Her voice was soft and held just as much of a plea as did her eyes.

  “Come in. Tell me what you need,” he said in slow, measured tones.

  “I need your help.”

  “So you said.” He held out a hand, pointing at the small fireplace across the single, cozily lit room. “Sit. Be warmed and at peace. And tell me what you seek.”

  She sat on the low, hard stool by the fire, twisting her hands in her lap before speaking, trying to figure out where to begin. “I need answers. I need to know what to do.”

  “Sounds like you have a story to tell. I’m here to listen. Tell me your troubles, child.” His caring voice soothed her nerves and did more to comfort her than the friendly flames.

  “My father is someone who’s very important to the city I come from. His —”

  “I know who you are, Princess of Havil, and I know who your father is.” He settled into a high-backed wooden chair, its gnarled posts looking almost as if they had grown in their current position. Behind him, a glimmering figure caught her eye. A carving of the familiar Sepha tree rested on a shelf, but there was more. A golden serpent wrapped around the trunk and became entwined in some of the branches. “Don’t worry, daughter of Lamech, your words will not leave this place.”

  How could he know me? I’m so far from home. Maybe he really can access the Creator’s knowledge. Naamah loosened her covering and lowered it behind her head. “No need for pretenses then. I have your word? Our meeting is secret?”

  He raised his hands and pressed them together beneath his chin and nodded. “Always.”

  She rubbed her arms to warm them. “Well, as I was about to say, my father’s power grows each year. And each year, I’m wounded by it. I’m his only daughter and will be of age when I turn 35 next year, and yet I’m just a means to an end. In his eyes, my existence only matters because of what power he might gain through me.” Her words tumbled out now as if compelled by the fears that had gripped her for so long.

  “There have been about half a dozen suitors—warriors and important men—who have come, seeking his permission to take me as their wife. In most of them, I see only a hunger of temporary desire. In one of them, there lurked something monstrously sinister. Yet there was another.” At the memory of him, her voice softened.

  “He actually saw me for who I was and not just how I could advance his station in life. He spent just as much time with me as he did trying to win my father’s favor. And yet, he, like the others was rejected. My father called me to him and said with contempt that one such as he wasn’t worthy of my beauty. But I could see the greed. I could see that my father hoped for one still greater to align with.

  “I’m frightened. I don’t want to be mercilessly handed over to someone who cares only for himself. And yet, I long to be married. To have someone good. Someone I can love and adore. Someone I can give myself to and not fear. And that’s why I’ve come. I’ve heard you can see what’s ahead. Please tell me. If I go back to my father’s house, what will become of me?”

  The man leaned closer and looked at her, yet Naamah sensed that he was not so much seeing her, as seeing past her. He blinked rapidly, almost as if that action would bring his being back to the body that loomed before her. “Child, there’s mystery surrounding you. And greatness. But I lack clarity. To learn what may be, I need some of your blood. Once blood and ground meet, only then will the voice of He who formed the ground truly cry out.”

  Naamah bit her lip. She had not expected this. She pulled away.

  “Relax, it’ll just be a tiny cut on your finger. You’ll barely feel it.”

  She looked at her hand. The minor pain will be nothing compared to the pain of not knowing. She weighed her options carefully then timidly extended her hand. The seer gently held her finger steady
and with his other hand, removed a small sharp blade from atop the mantle. She watched in mingled horror and fascination as he sliced a small groove in her tallest finger and then squeezed several large drops of blood, which landed decisively on the hard-packed dirt floor.

  He breathed deeply, his eyelids slowly sinking. The silence seemed endless until his eyes rolled back, leaving only narrow slits of white.

  “A storm brews in the north with thick, dark clouds, vexing your father. But a ray of sunshine pierces through it, lighting up your face.” As he spoke, his voice rang out in confident tones. His eyes popped open — clear and intently focused.

  A tingle traveled down Naamah’s spine. What did he mean? Does the storm represent a person? An army? Or simply a storm? Did any of it have to do with getting a good husband? Hmm...the sea lies to the north, so there isn’t anyone in that direction, is there? She stood and gathered her things, placing a strand of piks on the mantle as she did so. Puzzled as she was by his words, for the first time in a long time, she breathed freely. Absently wrapping her finger with a bandage the seer handed to her, she pondered this new feeling and realized what it was. Hope.

  Chapter 22

  Iri Geshem — Noah’s 45th year

  Noah held his drink up toward Aterre, who lounged across from him in Ara’s sitting room after evenfeast. “To your first harvest of Nuca’s beans.”

  “Drink up.” Aterre beckoned to them as if he were the master of a feast, joining Noah in being overdramatic.

  Breathing in the aroma of the brew, Noah took a sip. The expected bitterness was largely absent, and in its place, a smooth and mellow taste enveloped his palate. He took another sip and it achieved the same result. “Outstanding.”

  “It’s better than Nuca’s.” Emzara’s face lit up. “It’s not so strong.”

  Ara leaned back. “You’re to be commended, Aterre. This is very good.”

  “How did you make it taste so different?” Noah asked.

  Aterre shrugged. “I’m not sure. Maybe it’s the soil here, or maybe I didn’t roast them long enough. I was afraid to burn them so I didn’t follow the directions perfectly.”

  “Well, whatever you did, this is delicious,” Noah said.

  Aterre set his cup down on the small table next to his chair. “Cada said that once we sell enough to cover his initial investment, he’s going to split the profits with me evenly.”

  “Sounds like he made you a pretty good deal,” Ara said before turning to face Noah. “Guess that’s a good reminder to me that with patience, getting a better product is possible.”

  “I’ve been fiddling with it,” Noah said. “I think I’ve narrowed down the problem, but I’m not any closer to a solution.”

  Emzara sighed. “If you two are going to talk shop, you might as well clue Aterre and me in.”

  “We’re trying to figure out how to make bigger boats.” Ara said. “We’ve been making the same two models for nearly 20 years, but sooner or later, someone’s going to make something larger, and when they do, we’ll be out of business.”

  “I know some of the riverboat owners would like to be able to transport more goods, but if you make them too big, will they be able to maneuver much?” Aterre asked.

  “They might get stuck in the shallows,” Ara said. “But we’re not really talking about boats for the river.”

  “For the sea?” Aterre raised an eyebrow.

  Emzara scooted up against Noah. “Why would you want something to cross the sea?”

  Ara held up a hand. “Merchants and explorers want ships that can carry enough supplies and are strong enough to survive on the open sea. There are several cities along the coast that they could trade with. But our current boats can’t handle the waves during a storm. That’s why they hug the shoreline all the way, but doing so can add weeks to the trip, depending on how far one is going. So it’s really not worth it.”

  “Is it even possible?” Aterre asked.

  “Well, I’d like to find out,” Ara said.

  After grabbing a blanket from the open seat to her right, Emzara pulled her feet up on her chair and covered up. “What prevents you from doing it now, Baba?”

  “Good question.” Ara cracked his knuckles. “Do you remember when you were a little girl and one of my ships sank?”

  Emzara shook her head.

  “An adventurer bought a boat from me and planned on sailing all the way around the land to map it out. I warned him about taking it out in the big waves, but he didn’t listen. A few weeks later, he returned to town and tried to ruin my business by telling everyone that my boats can’t be trusted.”

  “What happened?” Aterre asked.

  “He went east, trying to navigate all the way to the land of Nod, but he got too far from the shore. A storm came along and ripped the ship apart.”

  “He’s lucky he didn’t drown,” Aterre rubbed his brow and blew out a breath.

  “No question about that. He said he hung onto one of the boards throughout the night and swam to shore in the morning. He came back here determined to blame me for his stubbornness.”

  “Is he still around?” Emzara asked.

  “No, he eventually left town.” Ara smirked. “I think he decided to explore on land.”

  Aterre laughed. “Maybe he should’ve done that in the first place.”

  As Noah rubbed the back of her neck, Emzara asked her father, “You said the boat sank in the storm, but were you able to ascertain what went wrong?”

  Ara shrugged. “Maybe. I tried to talk it through with the man, but he wasn’t interested in working things out. Still, he said something that’s stayed with me. He mentioned that the joints gave way first. Noah’s agreed to help me figure out how to get past the added strain to the joints.”

  “What about using some sort of metal?” Emzara asked.

  “I’ve thought of that.” Ara scratched his head. “Copper isn’t strong enough. It would bend too easily. Silver is too expensive and isn’t strong enough either.”

  Aterre jolted upright. “I have an idea.”

  Holding up his cup, Noah said, “No, we aren’t going to use your crop to make them.”

  “Ooh, there’s a thought.” Aterre smiled. “But in all seriousness, I think Emzara’s right. Metal might be the answer.”

  “It hasn’t been so far,” Ara said.

  “Maybe.” Aterre pointed in the direction of town. “We may not have anything here that’s strong enough, but in Havilah, where I grew up, they had figured out how to get another metal from rocks in the ground. They called it iron, and it’s much stronger than copper.”

  “How much stronger?” Ara asked.

  “I don’t know for sure, but they make weapons out of it.” Aterre looked away. “I can tell you this much, it doesn’t bend like copper. It’s very sturdy.”

  Ara stroked his beard with his thumb and index finger. “Hmm. That would require a trip to Havil, which poses a couple of problems.”

  “Like the time it takes to get there?” Aterre asked.

  “That’s one of them. We’ll see at least two whole moons before completing the trip.” Ara downed the last of his drink. “Although if the boats could survive the open sea, it’d be a lot faster.”

  “I’ll go,” Noah said.

  Emzara squeezed his arm. “No. You can’t leave for that long. We’re getting married in less than a year.”

  Noah kissed the top of her head. “And that’s why I must go. To secure the business for the future, so that I can provide for us and someday, our family.”

  Quiet and motionless, Emzara stared at her feet. Noah knew he would hate the separation as well, but at the same time, the thought of an adventure in Havil made his skin tingle.

  “We’re ahead of schedule right now, so I think I could spare you for that amount of time.” Ara nodded toward Emzara, “That is, if my daughter will allow it.”

  “I understand it.” She sighed and looked up. “But I don’t have to like it.”

  “T
hat’s one of the problems,” Noah said, eager to conquer any obstacle. “What’s the other one?”

  “This is a matter that needs to be brought to the town council,” Ara said.

  “Why?” Aterre asked.

  “Because we don’t have any official trade agreement with the land of Havilah, right Baba?”

  “And I’m not sure our council will want to start one,” Ara said.

  Noah furrowed his brow. “Really?”

  “There are rumors that the major city, Havil, has grown quite wicked. The elders don’t want any of that influence here.”

  Emzara sat up and smiled. “Well, I guess you aren’t going anywhere then.”

  Ara held up his palm. “Hold on. Noah and I will go to the next council meeting.” He glanced up and used his fingers to count days. “I believe it’ll be in eight days.” He pointed to Noah. “If they’re open to the idea, then you can go. They’d probably want to send a representative with you. And you’d need someone to help with the boat.” He turned and looked at Aterre.

  Aterre nodded. “I’d do it, but I’ll have to check with Cada. The harvest is almost over, so he may let me once that is finished, as long as I’m back before the planting season.”

  “It’s settled then. If the council approves, you two will leave for Havil to see if we can procure some iron.”

  Emzara grabbed Noah’s hand with both of hers. “And what if I could persuade Noah not to go?” The tone of her voice made it clear she was only partly serious.

  Ara laughed. “Then I could just order him to go. I am his boss, after all.”

  “You don’t play fair.” Emzara folded her arms across her chest, but the tiniest smile escaped her lips.

  Noah’s feelings were mixed too. Leaving Emzara for so long seemed unbearable, especially after they had seen each other nearly every day for the past five years. He placed a hand on her shoulder. “Before we make any decisions, we need to ask the Creator for clear directions in these matters.” He looked over at Ara. “If the Most High wants me to go, then there’s no use fighting it.” He turned back to Emzara. “But if He wants me to stay, then I’ll certainly not object.”