Legacy of the Watchers Series Boxed Set: Books 1-3

by Nancy Madore

  But more than anything else, Lilith resented the power Asmodeous still seemed to have over her. Here it was at last, her long awaited dream of being a Kalag-ga warrior. And yet, somehow, Asmodeous had managed to completely ruin it for her.

  Chapter 20

  Present Day

  Nadia sighed, suddenly tired. She’d been so wrapped up in Lilith’s story she had no idea how many hours had passed. “May I take a break?” she asked.

  “Yeah, let’s do that,” agreed Will. They all got up to stretch and Nadia walked over to the window, resenting the chain more than ever. It was still dark outside.

  “What time is it?” she wondered.

  “It’s very early here—around four a.m. Sunday morning,” said Will, glancing at his watch. “Its seven hours earlier in New York though, so it’s still Saturday night there.”

  “I’m starved!” announced Clive. “How about cooking up one of your specialties, Gordon?”

  Nadia turned to Gordon in surprise and he laughed. “I’m not a bad cook,” he admitted with a shrug.

  “I’m gonna check in,” said Will, leaving the room.

  “What kind of food do you cook?” Nadia asked.

  “Mostly Italian,” he replied, surprising her again.

  “I would have guessed Indian,” she said with a wry smile.

  He laughed. “I can prepare Indian cuisine too,” he said, abruptly switching to his Indian accent. “But Clive, he does not like it. He says it disrupts his chakras.”

  “Make the meatballs again,” suggested Clive. “With the sauce and garlic bread.”

  “Mmm, that sounds good,” agreed Nadia, salivating at the thought. It had been a long time since breakfast.

  “There’s more of that meat in the freezer,” Clive told Gordon, and then he turned to Nadia to add—“They have some kind of mystery meat here—don’t ask me what it is—but it sure is tasty!”

  “Its ground lamb,” said Gordon. “For the hundredth time, it’s ground lamb.”

  “I guess we’ll never know,” said Clive, lying down on the couch. He began humming a tune under his breath again. It was the one from the day before. As she listened, Nadia tried to place it. It was definitely a ‘golden oldie,’ the kind of song she would never expect Clive to know, let alone go around humming all the time. As she followed Gordon into the kitchen she quietly hummed along, trying to put words to the music. Gordon turned and gave her a strange look, just kind of staring at her for a moment, and then resumed what he had been doing, which is taking a package of meat out of the freezer and placing it in the microwave.

  “Clive refuses to accept that he’s eating lamb,” Gordon said conversationally. “For some reason it bothers him.” Nadia looked at Clive, still lying on the couch, humming, and was yet again struck by how peculiar these men were. Gordon, meanwhile, took out a large bowl and began pulling ingredients out of the refrigerator as if nothing was out of the ordinary. In fact, with the exception of the chain dragging behind her everywhere she went, the situation felt more like a laid-back camping trip than a kidnapping.

  She watched while Gordon chopped an onion. He was quick and skillful with the knife, in that way that people who cook a lot are.

  “Do you really believe in all this?” she asked him. “That angels came out of the sky and fathered giants with the women of earth?”

  “I do,” Gordon said. “I don’t know if they were angels as we think of them. Maybe they were aliens from another planet. Much of the science community seems to think that. Whatever they were, they came from somewhere else and brought knowledge we didn’t have.”

  “How can you be so sure of that?” Nadia asked.

  “Because historically speaking, it fits,” he said. “We know something happened back then, not just because the people wrote about it in their ancient records but because they had ancient records to begin with. Here they are, claiming creatures are coming out of the sky and teaching them things like how to write and suddenly they’re writing! No one had written anything before. Maybe hundreds of thousands of years go by with no writing. The writing came with the claims of these visitors. And there were other things too. They go from hunting and gathering to setting up irrigation systems…and even storing food for the future!” Nadia couldn’t help thinking of her great-grandfather as Gordon grew more enthusiastic. The two would have had a lot to talk about. “They formed communities, creating our very first cities and governments,” Gordon continued. “They learned how to protect themselves, using armor and even building walls around their cities. They invented the wheel, arithmetic, the calendar, smelting and the plow. Even jewelry and make-up were introduced during that time. This wasn’t just a period of growth; this was the beginning of life as we know it.”

  “People back then were little more than superstitious in-breeders,” added Clive, who had joined them in the kitchen at some point. “Barely more sophisticated than cattle. The only culture they had was bacteria. Even after they learned to write they had no idea what was going on around them. Their version of what was happening proves this. Irrigation systems are going in all over the place, and these nit-wits are still thinking their harvest depends on the gods. Think about it. Those people didn’t do this shit on their own. No way.”

  “Someone—or something—was helping them,” agreed Gordon, picking up where Clive left off. “Something with a much higher level of intelligence. They’ve found astrological drawings from that period that include constellations we didn’t discover until the nineteen-seventies.”

  Will walked in just then. “You’ve been granted a reprieve,” he told Nadia. “They’re chasing some other leads while you help us work this angle.”

  “Lucky me,” she replied, but Will didn’t appear to hear her. Nadia noticed, suddenly, how anxious he looked. It was almost as if there really was a ‘they’ working on some big ‘attack.’

  “It’s so hard to believe,” she couldn’t help remarking. “Giants! And djinn!”

  “You sure have a good memory for someone who doesn’t even believe the stories,” observed Clive.

  “Just because I didn’t believe they were a hundred percent true doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy them,” she said. “I loved hearing my grandmother’s stories, and I suppose I did kind of believe them at first. But…I don’t know. I grew up. I went to college. The more I learned the more improbable they seemed. And my poor grandmother went through a lot. In retrospect—especially after taking psychology—I figured she made up the stories as a way of working through the trauma of what happened to her.”

  They all watched hungrily as Gordon rolled his mixture into small balls and gently lowered them into a large frying pan containing about an inch or so of hot oil. The meatballs sizzled when they hit the oil. He stirred them lightly to brown them on all sides.

  “There’s plenty of evidence to support the claim that giants existed here on the earth,” Gordon told her. “Their depicted in literature and art found in many ancient cultures, spanning hundreds of years. Giants are mentioned in the bible, and discussed in greater detail in the writings of Enoch and Jubilees. Solomon wrote about the djinn, as your grandmother pointed out.” Gordon opened the oven and took out a tray of steaming garlic bread. “Nowadays we tend to shun all unexplained phenomenon, preferring to ignore it altogether rather than having to accept knowing only half the story.”

  “Archaeologists have found ancient steles from all over the Middle East, depicting battles where one or more of the soldiers are almost twice the size of the other soldiers,” added Will. “Rather than taking the pictures at face value, the science community prefers to theorize that these larger than life individuals represent personages of high importance, such as kings.”

  “What I’d like to know is how they coordinated that,” said Clive. “No internet, no phones…yet somehow we’re supposed to believe that all these different people, thousands of miles apart, were using the same symbolism in their art.”

  “It just goes to show that we haven
’t advanced as much as we like to think,” concluded Gordon. “We still cling to what we want to believe, whether it’s a scientific theory or a superstition—they’re both remarkably similar—and ignore any evidence to the contrary.”

  Gordon handed out plates and the conversation stopped while they each took a serving of food. Nadia’s mouth watered as she piled the steaming meatballs onto the thick Italian bread and then drenched it with red sauce. She topped it with grated cheese and sat down at the kitchen table to eat.

  “Your grandmother’s stories are truly amazing,” said Gordon. “I can’t believe you’ve kept them to yourself all these years.”

  “I guess they are pretty amazing…whether they’re true or not,” she agreed.

  “And to think,” Gordon continued. “You may be the only surviving person who knows what happened there.”

  “It gives me goose bumps,” said Clive, and Nadia cocked her eyebrow at him. “I’m serious!” he insisted. “Look!” And he held out his arm. But there were no goose bumps and he laughed when she looked.

  “Note how even the smallest details of your story fit,” Gordon continued, ignoring Clive. “I mean, according to ancient records, Lagash really did have an ongoing rival with the city of Kish, who used to destroy their irrigation systems and cause serious famines. And here we are, getting a first-hand account of it from someone who was actually there!”

  Nadia envied Gordon his absolute conviction that her grandmother’s stories were true. Surely he realized that her grandmother could have gotten that information about Lagash from the history books just as easily as he had done. She supposed all beliefs—whether founded in religion, science or history—produced a similar ability to turn every piece of evidence to its advantage. Yet this didn’t necessarily make those beliefs false, did it?

  “It is kind of freaky,” agreed Clive. “You know, even that bit about covering up the women to hide them from the angels, or aliens, or whatever the fuck those horny bastards were. I bet that’s where the whole Muslim covering-up-their-bitches-shit started.”

  “My grandmother thought the same thing,” said Nadia. “Though I don’t think she put it quite that way…” Her voice trailed off as she took another bite of her meatball sandwich. The food was delicious. She almost said so but stopped herself. Easy Patty, the voice warned. You’re starting to get a bit too comfortable here. But it was strange how easy it was to identify with one’s kidnappers—at least in Nadia’s case. Was she crazy or were they actually beginning to make the tiniest bit of sense?

  “And then there’s Lilith herself,” Gordon continued, growing more animated as the conversation went on. “In Hebrew folklore she’s thought to be the first woman on earth. This explains where that idea might have stemmed from—she was the first Nephilim woman. We may be the only people on earth who know this!”

  Nadia thought about it. It was true. Who else would know Lilith’s story?

  “It’s exhilarating!” exclaimed Gordon, blushing suddenly, because Clive and Will were giving him looks. “I’m sorry,” he said, reverting to the Indian accent again. “But I cannot help being fascinated by Lilith, even if she is an evil djinn bent on destroying humanity.”

  Nadia couldn’t contain a smile until her eyes met Will’s, who was watching her, and the smile dropped away.

  “And let’s not forget Og,” Gordon went on, oblivious to everything but the topic. “He, too, has been traced back to Uruk.”

  “What about the Kalag-ga warriors?” asked Nadia. “Is there anything in the historical records about them?”

  “Not that I know of,” said Gordon. “But we’ll definitely be putting them in our system for future reference. We knew that the giants had conquered many of the cities throughout that region. And we also knew that Uruk—today’s Iraq—was inundated with giants at one time, just like Lilith said. In fact, one of the rulers of the old city’s official ‘king’s list’ was a giant.”

  “You mean Gilgamesh,” said Nadia.

  “Yeah!” said Gordon, surprised. “How’d you know?”

  “And I suppose you also know that the oldest piece of literature on earth—the very first story ever told, some archaeologists say—is The Epic of Gilgamesh.” She smiled at the expression on his face. “I looked him up in college. The story says Gilgamesh was two thirds god and one third man.”

  “Yes, that’s right,” said Gordon. “I always wondered what that meant because a regular Nephilim would have been half-god, half-man…it doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Sure it does,” replied Nadia. “His father was an angel and his mother was a Nephilim. So he was part ‘god’ on both his father’s and his mother’s sides, making him two parts god. However, his mother was also half human, so he was one part man.”

  “I don’t recall it saying anywhere that Gilgamesh’s mother was a Nephilim,” interjected Will. “How do you know that?”

  Nadia gave him a smug smile. “Because that’s where Lilith’s story picks up next, nearly two decades later.”

  Supreme over other kings, lordly in appearance,

  he is the hero, born of Uruk, the goring wild bull.

  He walks out in front, the leader,

  and walks at the rear, trusted by his companions.

  — The Epic of Gilgamesh

  Chapter 21

  Ancient Mesopotamia

  The city of Uruk

  Nineteen years later

  Lilith spun around and quickly thrust forward her dagger. But she was not quick enough. Her opponent had anticipated her move and cut off her attack, slamming his own dagger into hers with such force that it was flung from her hand.

  She was momentarily stunned but then she threw back her head and laughed. “Did you see that?” she yelled to her sister, Ninsun, who was watching them from a few yards away.

  “Very impressive!” agreed Ninsun.

  “He’s sharpened his skills while I was away,” Lilith declared. Her eyes gleamed with pride as she examined her nephew anew. “You’ve been working hard, young Gil,” she praised.

  “Lilith, Gilgamesh! Come and sit down!” cried Ninsun.

  “Okay, okay,” agreed Lilith. But she could see that Gilgamesh was only getting warmed up and this made her laugh again.

  “He’s trying to work up the courage to ask if you’ll help him get into the Kalag-ga,” said Lilith’s sister.

  Lilith looked at Gilgamesh and he blushed with agitation.

  “I’m able to speak for myself, mother,” he complained.

  “Is this true?” Lilith asked him.

  Now that the cat was out of the bag Gilgamesh thrust out his chest and faced Lilith squarely. “I would make a fine warrior,” he insisted, as if he expected her to argue the point. Lilith looked at him wistfully. She couldn’t help thinking of herself at that age.

  “I’ll take you to our leader first thing tomorrow,” she said.

  “Really?” And suddenly he was just her nephew again. He rushed at Lilith and, before she could react, lifted her up off the ground as if she were no more than a child herself. He whirled her round and round, ignoring her shrieks to stop.

  And neither Lilith nor the Kalag-ga regretted bringing Gilgamesh into the fold. He singled himself out early on, so that he was not just a Kalag-ga warrior, he was Gilgamesh. His feats on the battlefield were legendary. He was always the first to strike and the last to retreat. He was a hero who commanded fear as well as admiration. Songs and poems were written about him on the walls of Uruk. Having angels on both sides of his family tree, he was considered mightier than other Nephilim. He was more of a god than a man.

  In a very short time, and without anyone really even noticing it was happening, Gilgamesh became the leader of the Kalag-ga. Under his direction the Kalag-ga took many cities, spreading the giants’ dominion over the desert and west of Sumer, into the foreign lands of Syria, and reaching as far as the great sea. Many of the warriors would leave the Kalag-ga army to rule the cities that were conquered. It was only a matter
of time before Gilgamesh would want a city of his own.

  Gilgamesh’s father, Lugalbanda, had ruled Uruk for many years but like most angels he became restless when confined to one place for too long. He was a well-loved king and under his rule the city had prospered. It was only natural that his son would follow him to the throne. Gilgamesh became king of Uruk.

  But Gilgamesh was not as popular a king as he had been a warrior. His ruthlessness and arrogance—both of which had served him well on the battlefield—made for an oppressive ruler. Missing the thrill of combat, Gilgamesh forced his subjects to fight him. He exhausted the sons of men through fighting and forced labor, and then added insult to injury by decreeing for himself a ‘lord’s right’ to be the first to bed all of Uruk’s new brides. His brutal treatment outraged the people of Uruk. Once again Gilgamesh’s exploits became legendary, but this time they were repeated with horror and loathing. More songs and poems emerged, but these were not nearly as flattering as the earlier ones. A general outcry arose as the people of Uruk loudly petitioned the gods. Their songs gave voice to their lament; “Gilgamesh does not leave a son to his father…nor does he leave a girl to her mother!”

  Lilith, too, had heard of her nephew’s mistreatment of the people of Uruk. Although she had little sympathy for the sufferings of the sons of men, Gilgamesh’s infamy troubled her. It would not do for one arrogant leader to characterize them all. Most of the cities thrived under the care of the giants. Lilith wondered if she should speak to Gilgamesh. She petitioned Anu about it but he had yet to come to her in her dreams. Then one night she returned from the battlefield to find her father there, in the flesh, waiting for her.