by Summer Lee
“Is it a good or bad message?” Kenana asked, standing. Her life had been so tranquil these past months that she had nearly forgotten that there were those out there who wished her harm.
“Good, my queen. The prophet, Enoch, has returned from a long trip, and will be speaking at Buto. He has requested his granddaughter’s presence. But you must hurry; he speaks at nightfall.”
In that moment, Asher appeared from the darkness. He stepped forward and clasped hands with the young runner. Asher looked at Kenana and said, “Like the man said, we must hurry.”
Kenana clapped her hands. She had been living in Ava’s house for many months. Something new and exciting would benefit her greatly. Especially if that something was seeing her revered grandfather.
The messenger bowed deeply again and departed, disappearing into the night, perhaps to relay the news to the next village.
*
The small town of Buto, built entirely with mud bricks, lay just east of Alalakh and north of Khalab. The red clay that covered the hills supplied plenty of terracotta and straw to make the vermilion-colored mud bricks. Kenana thought the town looked beautiful.
They had tried to depart Alalakh as quietly as possible, but Asher attracted too much attention. The village elders were greatly dismayed to discover that Asher had decided to leave without armed guards. One council chief had been perplexed to the point of grief: “Since when does a king travel alone without armed escorts? This is foolish!”
They had begged to provide him protection, but Asher only laughed and waved them off, promising he would return shortly.
Now, as they arrived in Buto, Ava said, “I come here every time the prophet Enoch speaks. I am excited to hear what he has to say this time.”
The small town seemed to be buzzing with activity. Indeed, they were not the only such wagon arriving. Dozens were appearing down dirt roads, all converging into town, and all filled with eager riders.
“They love your grandfather,” said Ava to Kenana. “I do, too. He feeds our soul and gives us the word of El.”
The town was quickly filling with people, all heading toward a great temple on the north end. They joined the throng, and soon came upon a large circular outdoor arena. Torches crackled around the perimeter of the stage. Musicians played music and a large crowd quickly gathered. Most sat on the inclined grass hill that overlooked the arena. Below, the massive temple rose into the darkening sky. Kenana gasped, her breath taken away.
“Remember,” said Asher, as he drew the cart to a halt. “We need to keep Kenana’s identity a secret. There are those here who would gladly sell her to the Nephilim for some silver, let alone some gold.”
As the three approached the excited crowd, Kenana, to her utter amazement, saw her father, Eber. He was talking to another man, both laughing. She was about to run forward when Asher held her back.
“Your father is well-known as the son of Enoch,” said Asher. “And, in turn, well-known for being the father of the Queen of Adah. I would suggest you wrap your scarf around your face and allow me go talk to him.”
“Dear El,” said Kenana, realizing the grave mistake she had nearly made. She immediately wrapped her scarf around her face, as did Ava.
As Asher went forward and spoke with Eber, Kenana and Ava hung back in the shadows of a cypress tree. The night air was cool and little Tyro seemed enchanted with the torches on the wide, circular stage. He pointed and cooed in Kenana’s arms.
A moment later, Asher led Eber over to the tree.
“Is it true?” asked Eber, merriment in his quiet voice. “Is that my daughter hiding behind that scarf?”
“Yes, Father!” she said and threw herself into him, wrapping one arm around him, the other still holding her baby.
Eber returned her embrace and then lifted Tyro into his own arms. “My goodness, you are a big baby.” He let his unspoken question hang in the air, for he knew all too well that Kenana’s baby was unnaturally big.
“Yes, Father,” said Kenana, tears in her eyes. “He is a very big boy.” She prayed to El that her father would accept little Tyro as one of his own grandchildren.
But she had little to fear. Her father immediately took to the little one, nuzzling his whiskered face into Tyro’s neck. The child giggled uncontrollably.
“When word reached us many months ago that you had fled Adah,” said Eber, as Tyro now played with her father’s ears, “I had been worried sick, waiting to hear news. That is why I am here now, just hoping that someone, somewhere had news of my daughter’s whereabouts—and now here you are! Glory to El!”
Kenana hugged her father and apologized for worrying him, filling him in on why they had fled and where they had fled to. Eber handed Tyro back to her and hugged both Asher and Ava, thanking them for keeping his daughter safe.
“My daughter had a rough life as a young girl. I hate to admit it, but I was not much of a father to her.”
“You were exactly the father I needed,” Kenana said, laughing.
At that moment, someone stepped onto the stage and announced loudly that the great prophet, Enoch, would be speaking shortly. With Kenana still covered in her scarf, she and her small group took a seat near the top of the rising hill.
As those in attendance found their seats, and the buzzing crowd soon fell to a hushed silence, Kenana watched with a happy heart as her grandfather stepped out onto the stage, walking carefully with his crooked cane.
The crowd applauded, and when the prophet, Enoch, reached the center of the stage, he raised his hands, silencing the multitude, which had gathered.
And then he spoke.
Chapter Twenty-five
“Gentlemen and gentle women,” he said in his strong, gravelly voice, a voice that carried easily up to Kenana. “I am here before you now because two visions have appeared to me recently, visions of great importance. Although I have written them down to preserve for future generations, I feel I must also share them both with all of you now.
“As always, these visions came to me from the Most High. Sometimes He speaks to me on the wind, or in my dreams, or even in the lyrics of the next song I hear. My children, be vigilant and you, too, may one day hear the voice of El Almighty.
“Now, in the first vision, I saw the reproof of the Watchers who fell to Earth. In the vision—which I am certain was in the nature of a dream—the great El gave me power to reprove the Watchers, the offspring of Heaven. Judgment has been passed upon them from this time forward, and never again shall they ascend into El’s Heaven. Rather, they will be bound in chains under the Euphrates River as long as the Earth endures. El has called me to deliver this message to the fallen ones.
“My instruction was to tell them that before they were bound eternally, they would see the destruction of their sons, the Nephilim. I was then told that the descendants of Anak, the evil giants in the north, will be destroyed in a great flood. And the Karnaks, those Nephilim who continuously wage war with humans, will be destroyed by a mighty Goel warrior.”
Kenana’s mouth dropped open, hidden behind her thin veil. She looked over at Asher, who set his jaw firmly and stared down toward Enoch. Firelight flickered in his narrowed eyes.
*
At that moment, another man walked out onto stage. Kenana recognized her uncle Methuselah, her father’s brother.
“The whole family is here,” she whispered to her father. Eber nodded, grinned and took her hand.
On stage, her uncle handed her grandfather a leather bag of what appeared to be water. The old man took a sip and handed it back. Methuselah slipped back into the darkness beyond the torchlight.
Enoch cleared his throat and continued, “A second vision came to me during a recent heavy fog. In the midst of the clouds, a powerful unseen force lifted me upward. The wind hastened me onward until I left the clouds behind. Next, the stars and lightning assisted my flight, elevating me into the Third Heaven, where I saw a great city with walls of crystal, and a tongue of fire encircling it. Trembling, I ente
red the City of El.
“Once inside, I felt that I was as hot as fire and as cold as ice. It was nothing like I had ever experienced before. Angels were everywhere. All were singing praise to El, all rejoicing. Frightened, I fell on my face.”
Raising his eyes, Enoch somehow found Kenana high above on the grassy slope. Or perhaps it was her imagination. Surely, he could not see her so high up on the hill. But in that moment, the old man nodded, and she could not help but smile and nod back.
The prophet continued, “Erected in the midst of the city was a temple with a floor of blazing bronze. Above, a magnitude of stars and lightning filled the sky, as seen through an arched ceiling of crystal. Upon the floor of bronze and beneath the crystal ceiling was an exalted throne made of what appeared to be ice, encircled by what appeared to be a brilliant sun. Fire and ice!”
“Where were you?” someone called out. “What was the name of the place?”
“I was told it was Heaven,” Enoch said, smiling, folding his hands over his gnarled cane. “I believe I was in the throne room of the Ancient of Days. I will tell you why. The one sitting upon the throne was great in glory. His robe was brighter than the encircling sun and whiter than a snowy throne. A mighty river flowed out from beneath his feet and the cherubim around him sang, ‘Holy, holy, holy.’
“It was at this point that an angel placed a veil about my face and I was called upon by the Ancient of Days to approach Him. His voice was deep and filled with great love toward me. Still, trembling in fear, I bowed before Him.
“He said, ‘Do not be afraid, my righteous scribe. You are to take to the world a message of peace and love. Remind my children that I love them. Give my children hope, for they are lost. Share with them peace, for they are in turmoil. Share with them love, for they know only hate. Share with them a message of joy, for they know only despair. Remind them that the Most High is always there for them. Always, and I love them more than they possibly know.’ After that, the vision faded and I found myself home again.”
With that, Enoch bowed his head and said a prayer for everyone in attendance. He thanked El for blessing all those who attended. He thanked El for His love. And, finally, he thanked El for sharing the wonders of Heaven.
He raised his head and arms toward the sky. Prophetic words poured forth from his mouth that vibrated with power and truth. He shouted, “Look, the Lord is coming with thousands of his holy ones.”
Kenana looked but saw nothing. Prophet Enoch softened his voice and a grieved look crossed his brow. “He will bring the people of the Earth to judgment in the last days. He will convict the ungodly in the world of all the evil things they have done. He will pronounce judgment on godless sinners for insulting his holy name. Let holy men take heed of this warning.”
Once finished, Enoch motioned for Methuselah to join him. The elder son did so, putting his arm around his father and guiding the elder prophet from the stage.
The crowd watched him go in silence. Kenana saw that many in attendance were wiping their eyes or hugging their loved ones. Yes, her grandfather had surely delivered a message of hope.
As two young boys began extinguishing the torches one by one, Kenana turned to her father. “I must see him.”
“But you can’t,” said her father. “Everyone knows that his granddaughter is the Queen of Adah.” He pointed to where many hundreds of people had begun crowding the stage. “Surely, you will be recognized, scarf or not.”
A strange sense of knowing came over her, welling up from deep within her heart. “I must see him,” she said, “because Grandfather is not long for this world.” How she knew this, she did not know. Yet somehow, she knew she was right.
Asher came up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Your daughter is safe with me, Eber. No harm will befall her.”
Eber looked at his daughter for a long moment. “You have always had a touch of the prophet’s gift.” He sighed deeply. “I shall arrange for you to meet with your grandfather.”
*
True to his word, as the evening passed into late night, when the mob scene around her grandfather had dissipated and the old man was left mostly alone, Eber led his daughter and the others to a small tavern by the river. There, Enoch simultaneously sipped from a hot mug and blessed those who paraded by his table. Seated with him were his son and grandson: Methuselah and Lamech, both Kenana’s relatives, both kin to her father.
Kenana was still wearing her scarf and hood; thankfully, she drew little attention. Eber steered her to a seat opposite the aged Enoch, and as she sat, her grandfather reached across the table and took her hand in his own. His touch was unnaturally warm. Pinpricks coursed through her body. She shivered and Enoch smiled at her warmly.
“My child,” he said tenderly. “You have been through so much.”
Tears pooled in her eyes. She had not meant to cry, but his love was so open and real, that she could not help the tears. She desperately wanted to throw her arms around him and hug him with all her might, but feared exposing her identity. Instead, she basked in the warmth of his radiating look of love, the gentle touch of his hand, the melody of his soft voice.
But she did not trust herself to speak. Her uncles all watched her with a smile. Asher was standing behind her, no doubt surveying the room, watching those who were watching her. Ava was holding little Tyro, who sometimes giggled at nothing at all.
“Your child is blessed,” said Enoch, glancing at Tyro. “Fear not, for he has not been forsaken by El.”
Now, the tears spilled from her eyes, for that had been Kenana’s main fear: That her babe would grow into something not human. Something evil and wretched.
“Your child is destined for great things. He is not a curse and he is not a blight on the Earth. In fact, he is quite the opposite. Legends will be written of him and stories will be told of his exploits. I have foreseen this.”
Now, Kenana openly wept, thankful for the scarf that absorbed her free-flowing tears.
“You have much to learn, my child. Do so with a happy heart. Do so with love. El is watching over you. Always!” He paused. “I sacrificed animals to cover the sins of my grandchildren for many years. Now my son, Methuselah, does it for me. Your sins are forgiven.”
“Thank you.” Kenana sniffed and wiped her nose.
He squeezed her hand tenderly. “Now, I have another riddle for you, as I know how much you love such games.”
Kenana now found herself grinning through her tears. Was it any wonder her grandfather was so revered?
“What is it?” she asked eagerly.
“It is three words only, but I trust you will be able to divine their secret meaning.” He studied her for a long moment, his eyes twinkling brightly, and then he said, “Spoor. Spore. Door.”
Kenana repeated the words, locking them into memory. At the moment, she had no clue what they meant.
She squeezed the great prophet’s hand. “Goodbye, Grandfather,” she said, knowing in her heart what she really meant.
He nodded and patted the back of her hand, and she knew that he understood that this would be their last meeting on this earth. “Goodbye, my child,” he said gently.
With that, his kind eyes flicked up to where Asher was standing behind her. And to Kenana’s surprise, the old prophet bowed his head slightly, and said, “Welcome back, my lord.”
Kenana turned her head. Asher blushed slightly and bowed in return. “It is a great honor, Prophet Enoch.”
Her grandfather cocked his head to one side as if he were listening to unheard voices. He said, “I am being told the prophecies regarding you are true, my lord. Heed them well.”
Asher nodded, grinning. “I suspected as much.”
“The path before you is a difficult one, my son.”
“Rarely has my path been an easy one,” said Asher.
“This will be, perhaps, the most difficult path of all.”
“I understand,” said Asher.
“But a path you are well-prepared for
, Goel,” said the prophet. “Take care of my granddaughter.”
“I will,” said Asher, bowing. “Always.”
Chapter Twenty-six
Too late to travel back home, Asher found lodging in town: a house belonging to an old widow. Nearly blind with cataracts, the widow showed them to the back rooms. Kenana, Ava and Tyro would sleep together on the wide bed; Asher was given a hay-covered wooden pallet in the storage shed. The woman seemed embarrassed to offer such meager accommodations, but Asher only smiled warmly and told the kind woman that the accommodations were more than fine. The aged widow beamed. Kenana suspected the returning king had slept on far worse than a hay-covered pallet.
Chattering away, the old woman, whose name turned out to be Reba, led the two women back to their own room. Although the faded blue walls were in desperate need of paint, Kenana thought the room was surprisingly spacious. As Reba turned down their bed and fluffed the goose down pillows, she insisted that they all come to the kitchen where a pot of stew was boiling.
Kenana, who could not remember when she had last eaten, was only too glad to oblige.
*
Early the next morning, Asher went into town to purchase provisions for their short journey back. And with Ava bathing in the nearby river, Kenana found herself alone with her son in a stranger’s house. Well, Reba really wasn’t exactly a stranger now, was she? Especially after the many dozens of stories the excitable old woman had told over dinner, stories that featured her deceased husband who had been a traveling minstrel, playing his musical instruments from town to town. Kenana wondered what such a life would be like, to travel freely from city to city; bringing those within earshot the joy of one’s music and creativity.
She found herself daydreaming about such a life when Reba appeared at her bedchamber door. “There is someone here to see you, madam,” she said.
Kenana immediately picked up Tyro and frowned. Who else knew she was here?
She followed Reba through the narrow hallways, and there, standing tall in the doorway, was her Uncle Methuselah.