by Nancy Madore
“Father!” she cried in surprise. How many years had it been? Far too many, she decided. Her father looked exactly the same as the day he left, which was to be expected, but it amazed her all the same. She knew that she hadn’t changed either, at least not since reaching adulthood—nor would she for a long time.
Anu greeted his daughter with unmistakable pride shining in his eyes while Lilith marveled over his untouched beauty. She lingered awhile in the abundance of pleasure his presence brought, even though she knew he had come for a reason. Something was clearly weighing on his mind. She wondered if it had anything to do with Gilgamesh.
“What is it father?” she asked him at last.
Anu’s beautiful features were distorted from anxiety.
“I fear for our future,” he told her. “Our position on this earth is not secure.”
“What…do you mean?” asked Lilith, alarmed.
“We—the angels—were never authorized to come here. Not as we are now, at any rate. We were sent here as spirits to watch over the earth. We were to sound the alarm if anything threatened mankind’s existence. We were not born of this earth, nor were we meant to reside here.” He struck himself in the chest. “Our flesh isn’t even real!”
“I don’t understand,” Lilith said. “How then, were you able to produce children?”
“I don’t know.” He looked at her. “But surely you’ve noticed that you’re different from the others!”
“Yes, of course, but I thought we were just special…you know, children of the gods.”
“I am not a god,” said Anu. “Like the sons of men, I am simply one of His creations.”
“But why should you worry about it now, father?” Lilith wondered.
Anu sighed heavily. Every word he uttered seemed to cause him more distress. “There has been a great outcry from the sons of men. They feel oppressed by the children of angels. They dispute our right to be here. Even the souls of their dead cry out for retribution.”
“How do you know this?”
“I hear them in my dreams. I fear that the Others will hear them as well.”
“The others?”
A gleam of genuine fear came into in Anu’s eyes. “The angels who sent us here to begin with.”
“But why should the sons of men cry out against us?” cried Lilith.
“You need to ask?” he replied, not unkindly.
Lilith huffed. “They were killing each other before we were even born to this earth,” she said defensively. “We only kill to conquer, and once we take over a city, we improve and protect it. The people are allowed to grow and prosper. That would never happen if they were left to their own devices. Why, they would kill one another for simply thinking different thoughts! They would just keep killing each other until every single one of them was destroyed.”
“Perhaps,” he allowed. “But what of the abuses?”
Lilith knew he was speaking of Gilgamesh, and she felt the need to defend her nephew. “It’s true that the Nephilim aren’t perfect. But overall, I think we are kinder and more tolerant than the sons of men. Every one oppresses the other. Look at how they treat their women!”
“Yes but we have a higher standard. We were not placed here by God. We must prove our right to be here. We must be able to show that we will benefit mankind!”
“That’s not fair!” Lilith was becoming afraid. “We’re the descendants of man too.”
“That was our original hope, but I’m afraid it isn’t the case. It’s more than just your size. Your…souls aren’t like theirs either. They don’t go where their souls go when you die.”
Lilith stared at her father. “What do you mean? Where do our souls go?” she asked, a chill running over her.
“Nowhere,” he replied slowly. “They stay here. I’m afraid…there are so many things you don’t know.”
The fighter in Lilith rose up. “What can we do?”
“You…the Kalag-ga warriors, must protect the sons of men from the worst of your kind,” he said. When Lilith didn’t object he continued. “In the mountains, north of here, and in other hiding places you can find the Emim. They are monsters. They do unspeakable things. It’s the spirits of their dead that cry out the loudest.”
Lilith had heard of them. The sons of men called them the ‘terrors’ and the ‘biters.’
“We will destroy them,” Lilith said with a simple finality that made Anu smile, his pride in her rekindled.
“And there’s something else,” he said after a moment. He seemed suddenly very weary.
“What is it father?” she prompted.
“Gilgamesh,” he began.
Lilith’s heart stopped. Although she was more concerned than ever over Gilgamesh’s behavior, especially after what her father just told her, she couldn’t help jumping to his defense. “Gil is just restless in Uruk! I’ll talk to him. We’ll bring him back into the Kalag-ga to fight the Emim. The sons of men will come to admire him again.”
“Perhaps. But I feel the people of Uruk need to see Gilgamesh rebuked. I am sending a powerful adversary to challenge him. His name is Enkido and he is Gilgamesh’s equal in all respects. He will not kill Gilgamesh, but he will influence him for the better. They will become friends and Gilgamesh will lose interest in the people of Uruk.”
Anu’s visit filled Lilith with foreboding. She’d never felt this kind of fear before. It was impossible to believe that she and the other Nephilim had been rejected by the One who created the earth and everything in it. Except them.
Where else could they go?
Chapter 22
Although Lilith hadn’t seen Asmodeous for nearly twenty years, she’d heard much of him and the city he now ruled. She had avoided that city in her many travels with the Kalag-ga, but she couldn’t keep her ears from perking up whenever it was mentioned.
Kiriath Arba was named after the angel who founded the city; its name literally meant, ‘the city belonging to Arba.’ Arba was a loved and respected ‘god’ to his followers, and under his direction Kiriath Arba flourished. Like the other angels, he took a wife and produced a Nephilim son, Anak. The son was curiously beautiful like his father, with perfect, angelic features and long, graceful limbs. From infancy it was clear that Anak would be lean and tall, rather than stocky and muscular like so many of the Nephilim males. Later, his name would come to mean ‘long-necked’ in reference to his gazelle like beauty, and all of his descendants would be called Anakim after him because they shared his slender stature and pleasing features.
Now Anak, though strong, was not inclined to fight like other giants. In fact, he had no wish to conquer, unless it involved the weaker sex. He was obsessed with being a great lover, and it appeared that he meant to single-handedly populate the earth with his Anakim while his fellow giants were busy occupying cities. It was his father’s wish that Anak would eventually rule Kiriath Arba, but Anak showed no interest in that either. His sole concern was women, and when he grew restless with the women of Kiriath Arba, he discovered a new interest in travel. He went out in all directions, seducing women from all corners, and bringing the ones he liked best back to Kiriath Arba—often heavy with child. He claimed to fall deeply in love with each and every one of them, and gave them his full attention for as long as his ardor lasted. He built a new castle for each new wife, where he would live with her for a time. But he would inevitably grow bored, and soon after he would take himself off on another journey. He would not be heard from again until he returned with yet another exotic flower to add to his collection. His wives were many, and sometimes he gave them two and even three children before leaving. Surprisingly, these wives didn’t resent him. He was so utterly charming and generous that they couldn’t help feeling appreciative. They were left to fend for themselves, true, but they were granted more wealth and freedom than they could ever have wished for. They were allowed—and even encouraged—to take another husband if they so desired, and the people of Kiriath Arba treated them like queens.
I
t was no small surprise when, after another such journey, Anak returned with Asmodeous instead of a wife.
Asmodeous met Anak while crossing the Negev Desert with the Kalag-ga to get to the southwestern regions surrounding the red sea. The Kalag-ga warriors were tremendously efficient travelers. They were so well equipped that they could journey through even the worst conditions in absolute comfort. On longer trips they were apt to let stray wanderers join them, provided they were interesting or could contribute to the group in some way. Anak was as good-natured and amusing a travel companion as one could hope for, and he came with an entire entourage of his own. He had everything, from cooks to scribes to dancers. A few of the Kalag-ga warriors found Anak’s obsession with women odd, but Asmodeous—who was also known for his romantic nature—could find no fault in Anak’s opinion on the matter. No doubt they shortened many a long night at the fire by reliving accounts of their numerous conquests. Lilith wondered if Asmodeous ever mentioned her. It was shortly after their little tryst in her village that he and Anak met.
At some point during that journey Anak decided that Asmodeous was the man to rule Kiriath Arba in his place.
The city of Kiriath Arba was located on the south-western bank of the Dead Sea in the land of the Canaanites. It was a high, mountainous region with rich earth that boasted of large trees and a wide variety of foliage above ground, as well as precious stones and minerals below. Merchants from the city sold as much wine and marble as the surrounding cities could buy. Kiriath Arba was a favorite among traders.
Lilith was glad that Asmodeous had done so well for himself.
There was another city at the northern bank of the Dead Sea, not far from Kiriath Arba, called Jericho. This city was situated in a low valley, rich with fragrant desert flowers that were continuously in bloom and cooled by the palm trees that fanned them from overhead. Jericho had thus far managed to evade the influence of the angels and the control of the giants. Early on, with the first rumors of these demonic influences (as their religious leaders termed them) the entire populace went to work to safeguard their city. The walls were doubled in height, the merchants began limiting their trade to other, non-tainted cities and a new army, specializing in the slaying of demons, was put into force. The women of Jericho were covered from head to foot, so that not a glimpse of them could be had from any evil spirits hovering overhead. In spite of all these precautions, the people of Jericho lived in constant fear of being invaded, and every young man knew how to use a battle axe by the age of ten.
But none of Jericho’s efforts could begin to prepare them for the Emim. These giants were more fearsome than anything that had ever been encountered on earth. Many of the Emim had settled in the Lebanon Mountains where they fed off wild animals, but in times of scarcity they would roam out into the nearby regions, always traveling by night, to leave a trail of death and terror in their wake. On one such night, one of these Emim somehow managed to scale the great wall of Jericho, making it over the top and down the other side without anyone sounding the alarm. The monster then opened the gates so that his companions could enter the city. Like a pack of hungry wolves they crept into the houses, killing most of the occupants in their sleep by viciously ripping apart their necks with their teeth and then feasting on their flesh as if it were succulent fruit. By morning the Emim were gone, but the terror remained. The survivors were at a loss. None of their safeguards had kept the demons out. After much vehement arguing over the matter, it was decided that the warrior giants were the lesser of two evils. At least the Kalag-ga offered protection. A messenger was sent out to enlist their help.
Meanwhile, word got out of what happened at Jericho, and people were already pouring in from other parts of the region to see if the rumors were true. Asmodeous, coming up from Kiriath Arba with a large army of both men and giants, was among the first to arrive. He and his men were welcomed with open arms and treated like kings. It was easy to see that the people were terrified and desperate for protection. And it was little wonder. Even Asmodeous, who had witnessed every kind of horror on the battlefield, was sickened by what he saw. The Emim had gorged themselves on the entrails of men, women and children alike.
By the time the Kalag-ga warriors arrived, the city of Jericho was overrun with neighboring armies, both giant and otherwise. In spite of the recent horror, there was a peculiarly joyous atmosphere in Jericho. Perhaps it was due, in part, to the temporary relief of being so well protected by soldiers. As well, the warriors tended to be full of cheer when they were not engaged in battle. Everyone accepted the reprieve, and if the people of Jericho noticed their storehouses being depleted, they didn’t utter a single complaint.
Lilith was perhaps the only one there who was filled with trepidation. She remained edgy and anxious despite her efforts to unwind from the long, tedious journey into Jericho. To make matters worse, she knew the city was buzzing with rumors about her arrival. In her years with the Kalag-ga, she’d become accustomed to the extra interest she stirred as a female warrior. Sometimes she even enjoyed it. She knew that the ones who criticized her the most envied her in secret. She was first, a great warrior and second, a great beauty—in that order. And wasn’t that exactly what she wanted to be since she was a little girl?
She had no regrets. But for the first time in her life Lilith felt unsure of herself. And it was because of Asmodeous. She knew that he was there, without anyone having to tell her. She could feel his presence. Her awareness of him troubled her.
As Lilith took extra pains with her appearance she told herself repeatedly that she didn’t care. She had experienced the touch of countless lovers since Asmodeous and in her opinion they were all pretty similar, give or take one little detail or another. What did any of it matter?
She knew that she was beautiful, fascinating and successful. All eyes would be on her, and yet it was with dread that Lilith finally went out to meet Og and Gilgamesh so that they could join the great feast that was being held in their honor.
“What took you so long?” Gilgamesh complained irritably. But Og gave her an encouraging smile and she wondered how much he had surmised about her and Asmodeous. Enkido, Anu’s promised companion for Gilgamesh, stood silently off to one side. As in their previous encounters, Lilith’s eyes lingered on him a moment longer than was necessary. There was something all at once eerie and enthralling in Enkido’s appearance. His eyes were an unnatural blue, and glowed like a creature of the night. His hair was long and thick, and nearly white. He was unlike anyone Lilith had seen before. He was lean and quick and unspeakably beautiful. He reminded Lilith of a wild beast—a tiger perhaps. She heard that he had spent his life in a wild forest, living among the animals. She wondered if this was true. He was painfully shy around women, particularly Lilith. She never once heard him speak, but she’d already been impressed by his performance on the battlefield.
“We’re holding up dinner,” Og reminded her gently, and Lilith realized that she was more nervous about seeing Asmodeous than she was to go into battle with the Emim! Indeed, she would rather face an army of the ‘dreadful ones’ than to behold that mocking smile at her expense. The old hurt over being so thoroughly rejected rose up in her again. It occurred to her that he might be married now, and a tremor of anguish went through her. Og had taken her arm and he looked at her with concern. Lilith bit her lip. She merely had to get through the night.
Lilith spotted Asmodeous the instant she stepped into the crowded hall. It was as if he was the only person there. At the sight of him she faltered, but Og held her steady. Gilgamesh was speaking to her but she couldn’t comprehend what he was saying. It mightn’t have been so bad if Asmodeous hadn’t seen her too, but their eyes met simultaneously and their gazes remained locked. She didn’t even realize until it was too late that Og was leading her straight to him—to the empty seats that were conspicuously left open on either side of him. She turned to Og to protest.
“It was Asmodeous who brought you into the Kalag-ga all those years ago,” he
told her, adding in an even lower voice—“And it was for you that he left.” Lilith stared at him in astonishment. But she was holding up the procession.
Asmodeous stood up as Lilith moved to sit down beside him. His eyes never, for a moment, left her face. She tried to compose herself. She knew they must be drawing curious looks but she couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away, and Asmodeous appeared to have no desire to look anywhere else.
Lilith swallowed hard, willing herself to be strong. It wasn’t as if she’d spent all those years pining after him. She’d led a full, exciting life without Asmodeous. But Og’s words were echoing in her head, making it seem as if their last encounter had been only moments before. All of the anger she’d accumulated over the years was dissolving like salt in warm water. She suddenly realized why none of her other lovers had been able to capture her heart. It had been here, with Asmodeous all the time.
Yet a part of her was still hurt that he never tried to reach her.
“It feels like just yesterday when we last…spoke,” he murmured softly, for her alone to hear.
“Yes,” she agreed, having just thought the same thing herself.
“I’ve heard one story after another about ‘Lilith, the mighty warrior,’” he continued, and Lilith was surprised to see real pride shining in his eyes. “You’re a legend.”
Lilith bit her lip and cursed herself inwardly for the tears that were filling her eyes.
“Don’t,” he whispered. “We’ll talk later.”
She reached for her goblet of wine with an unsteady hand.
Like a wild boar bursting out from the underbrush, Gilgamesh’s boisterous voice suddenly startled her, making her jump.
“Lilith, what is it? Are you ill?” he demanded.
All eyes turned to the beautiful warrior woman they’d been trying not to stare at.
“No Gil,” she replied with surprising lightness, considering her inner turmoil. “I’m not ill, only half starved from waiting for you to finish taming those precious locks of yours.” Gilgamesh’s thick curls were renowned, often even mentioned in the songs and poems that were written about him. He half frowned, half smiled at her teasing while ripples of laughter broke out around the table.