Dawn Of The Aakacarns

by John Buttrick

  Being a creative person, Jubal understood what was meant. “Perhaps after the concert you will be inspired.”

  “Perhaps,” Roddy agreed but his suddenly bland facial expression indicated he had doubts.

  A bell rang. “Enter,” Jubal called out.

  He preferred hearing a ring over having a door slam against the wall to announce the presence of someone seeking entrance. Someday Victoria might even use the bell; it was something to hope for.

  In walked Vashti, Pan, Natura, and Hermes, each was carrying a flute, and all of whom were wearing red and black silks. “We composed a melody with a harmony line and so you had to create one with four,” the wooly-headed performer commented and his wife nodded her agreement.

  “What can I say?” Jubal replied while picking up his Tubal-flute. “Your work inspired me.”

  “You did it in your sleep. We did ours while wide awake,” Natura said and then eyed the skin. “Um, I don’t know which notes to play.”

  Jubal reached into his desk and pulled out four tanned-leather skins and then gave one to each of them. Each swath had notes to be played along with the melody. “I will play first and you will all join me in the second stanza.”

  He began to play. “I like it already,” Roddy stated enthusiastically.

  At the completion of the first stanza, right on the beat, the four part harmony joined in. It was so sweet to the ear, Roddy’s eyes widened and joy filled his face. A tear trickled from Jubal’s eye at hearing for the first time what had only been a part of his dream. By the time the concert ended, six stanzas later, his fellow performers had to wipe their eyes and Roddy was on his feet vigorously clapping approval.

  Jubal barely had the Tubal-flute on the desktop when Vashti threw her arms around him. “It was the most beautiful piece of music I have ever heard,” she whispered in his ear and then pulled away.

  Jubal felt the same, but thought it vain to say so. Pan looked at his wife, communicating silently with her, they both nodded, and then he said, “Now we have to compose melodies with multiple harmonies. The sound is exquisite and the world will be poorer if we composers fail to build on what you achieved.”

  “You inspired me, I in turn inspired you, we inspire one another, and who knows how many people will add their talents to create more,” Jubal replied.

  Hermes began whistling the tune, minus the harmony, and after a few moments stopped. “I am going to be one of those talents to create more, although I might start with a two part harmony and work my way up from there.”

  Perhaps he would, Jubal did not have the heart to belittle the boast. The son of Zeus had talent.

  “I can say the sound has inspired me,” the Aakasear shared his feelings. He held up a hand when Jubal opened his mouth. “No, my friend, this does not mean I will immediately compose an Aaka to forge stone and metals. It means I am inspired to add harmony to a melody.”

  “I am sure whatever you compose will be appreciated by all,” Jubal changed what he had been about to say, seeing Roddy had anticipated the question.

  The bell rang. “Enter,” Vashti called out.

  In walked Hadassah with Rue. “Tell them what you told me,” she instructed her son. The little boy so greatly favored his mother in appearance she could not deny parentage even if there might have been times when she wanted to.

  The lad walked boldly up to his uncle. Because of the deep familiarity brought on by their recently shared experiences, the boy showed no hesitance in approaching a person much of the community drew near cautiously. The little fellow was respectful, but had no fear. “Uncle Jubal, I was with Herman earlier today and we were pretending to be Aakacarns. Well, he pulled out a silver-capped baton and it looked a lot like,” he paused and pointed at Roddy’s belt, “Like that one. He said that you said he could take whatever he needed from your house and so it wasn’t like he stole it. Did you really give him a magic wand and if you did, can I have one?”

  “No, you cannot have one,” his mother was quick to answer.

  Jubal would not have agreed in any case and was wondering who the boy was who believed he had authorization to take whatever he wanted. “I never gave anyone permission to remove any object they desired from this house, certainly not a producer. I do not even know Herman. Who is his father?”

  “Japen, son of Cazzhe,” Hadassah replied.

  Vashti nodded her head as if the names meant something to her. “Husband, you did give his family permission to come to our home for provisions.”

  Jubal was about to tell her he gave no such permission to Herman, Japen, or Cazzhe, but then remembered who he did authorize to send for provender. “Are they related to Aricana?”

  Vashti nodded her head. “She has two sons, Herman and Zordan.”

  “Herman is my age, Zordan is only five,” Rue informed as if the other boy, being so much younger than him, was hardly worth mentioning.

  Pan stroked his beard as if in thought and after a few moments shared what he came up with. “First you ought to verify one of your producers is missing and then I suggest a quick trip to wherever this family lives. The consequences would be severe if that lad has enough mental capacity to actually summon potential through the baton.”

  Jubal understood better than anyone the consequences of drawing potential from a finite pool of life-force energy. Levitating an object was the least concern.

  Shef and his assistance walked in with the afternoon meal. Vashti turned to him. “Did the son of Aricana come here recently seeking food from our kitchen?”

  The cook nodded his head. “You gave instructions that her family was to be granted access to the food storage. A boy by the name of Herman came yesterday, claiming to be her son, and I allowed him to get whatever he wanted. Did I err in doing so?”

  “No,” Jubal assured him. “But he might have removed an item from my workshop.”

  “I did not watch the boy the entire time he was here, but I know he left with a sack of fruit and a haunch of pork,” Shef replied. “I did not search the sack.”

  Roddy rubbed his hands together as if washing something off. “This sounds like a matter you can handle. Let me know if you want to press official charges. For now, I have meetings to attend.”

  “The rest of you wait here,” Jubal said and then wasted no time getting to his workshop. The Weapocarns; Malcus and Constan followed him.

  He bypassed his work table and went straight to the oblong counter where four rows of twenty finished producers were waiting to be picked up by the Aakacarns who had ordered them. One Aakatool was missing from row three. The door to the room was only guarded when he was inside. He stared at the two guards standing out in the hall. “Guys, we are going to post a Weapocarn at this door, my bed chamber door, and at my study from now on whether or not I am in the rooms.”

  “It will be as you say,” both men quickly agreed.

  By the time Jubal returned to the study, Roddy had left to attend his meeting. Malcus stayed behind to guard the workroom. Constan returned with the instructor he dared not allow to be unescorted.

  “What is the verdict, did the lad take what he knew was not food?” Pan was the first to inquire.

  “He most certainly did,” Jubal replied, more worried than angry over the indiscretion. Making mistakes was a part of growing up, but this was one error that could cost the boy his life.

  “Aricana’s desire was never to be in your presence again,” Vashti apparently felt the need to point out.

  Jubal did not need the reminder. “I will proceed by the notion she would find the death of her son to be less desirable.”

  “Aye, I can see where she would,” Pan agreed. “I will come with you.”

  “As will I,” Constan insisted. “Orion has outer escort duty and will be accompanying us.”

  “I want to come,” Rue’s piping voice chimed in.

  “Absolutely not,” Hadassah said and then grabbed her son by the hand. “You are coming home with me,” she added and headed for th
e door.

  “Thank you for bringing this matter to our attention,” Vashti called out.

  “You are welcome,” both mother and child replied at the same time.

  Jubal had no objections to the other three coming along. “Keep lunch warm for us,” he instructed and then exited with his escorts.

  By the time they were twenty paces from the threshold, people were calling greetings to him, to which he responded in kind.

  “Do any of you know where the boy lives?” he asked as Orion caught up to him.

  “What boy?” the archer inquired.

  “Herman, son of Japen,” Pan replied.

  Orion nodded. “Yes, I know where Japen and his family live. The man sits at home a lot since the Instructor started providing food for his table.”

  Jubal focused fully on him. “Good, take us there.”

  It did not matter whether or not the man turned lazy, such was his own problem. A trait like that tended to punish itself in the long run.

  The highly respected Anakim led the way through and beyond the well-built homes constructed by Imhotep’s crew and out among the dwellings made of driftwood and canvas. There too folks were quick to shout,” Greetings,” to the Instructor of Aakacarns, even though he was wearing his white robe rather than silk clothing.

  To the right of one such home stood a brick oven with a slab of pork cooking on a spit. The aroma was pleasant, but Jubal preferred to enjoy the meal prepared by Shef, and therefore had no problem ignoring the normally tantalizing whiff. Aricana stood nearby and could not fail to see something was happening. The neighbors were gathering to view the spectacle of two Weapocarns escorting an Aakacarn and the Instructor. That aside, the presence of four giants in an area predominately occupied by Tinies was impossible to ignore.

  The former-cook’s eyes locked onto Jubal as he approached and hardened when he came to a stop right in front of her. “Why are you here?”

  She deliberately did not use the title or his name, but Jubal did not care about such things. “A producer was removed from my home yesterday,” he began to explain.

  “And so you immediately jump to the conclusion someone from my house is responsible,” Aricana interrupted. “You falsely accused me in the same manner.”

  He had, so was willing to accept the tone in which she addressed him. “The producer was seen in the hand of Herman, who claimed, when asked, that I had given him permission to take whatever he wanted from my home. You know the provender I promised you is related to food and clothing, not Aakatools. No,” he said when she opened her mouth to interrupt him again. “I do not care about the theft and have no intention of calling for official judgement or punishment. I care about the fact that the device could kill him. The only reason I have come is to take it back.”

  A chubby little man ran out of the house. “How dare you speak to my wife?”

  The shouter had auburn hair, a full beard, and an overall pinkish complexion. He wore a new robe of finely woven wool, material most likely provided by his recent benefactor; the man he was addressing so rudely.

  “I remember you,” Jubal replied after a memory of rescuing the ingrate during the earthquake came to the forefront of his mind. “I raised you off the ground when it was shaking.”

  The man spat in the dirt at Jubal’s feet. “I was handling the situation and don’t appreciate the way you snatched me and mine up into the air.”

  “Clearly you do not,” Pan shared his observation. “He should have left you screaming and rolling on the flooding ground,” which the fat man had been doing at the time.

  Japen ignored the wooly giant, or pretended too, and walked right up to Jubal. “You assaulted my wife with your nasty spells,” he shouted and then threw a fist aimed at Jubal’s jaw. Clearly the man, for all of his faults, was no coward.

  The blow connected and probably hurt his knuckles more than it did Jubal. The punch barely turned his head. The crowd began shouting at the insane neighbor who dared to strike the formidable Instructor of Aakacarns. Orion and Constan sprang at the fool.

  “Hold, do nothing,” Jubal insisted, stopping them just in time.

  Japen’s lips formed a crooked smile, sharp intakes of breath could be heard from the crowd, and then, encouraged, he threw another punch. Jubal’s right hand instantly engulfed the tiny fist and he gave a shove, sending the chubby little man flying backwards. Aricana’s husband sailed through the air and landed flat on his back, twenty paces away.

  “Because I did cast Elevation at your wife, I allowed you that one blow. You will not be permitted another.” The warning was clear, only a complete fool would ignore it.

  “You hurt my Poppa,” a high-pitched voice shouted.

  A small boy, who had to be Herman, ran screaming from the house and was carrying the stolen producer. He was followed by an even smaller lad, who had to be Zordan. Their father snatched hold of the device and aimed it at Jubal. “Let us see how you like having your own spell cast upon you,” Japen sneered.

  “No, using the baton could kill you,” Pan gave fair warning.

  “Ha!” The Tiny shouted and thrust the producer forward.

  The clear flash was so bright it hurt the eyes, causing Jubal to blink, but not before he saw a beam of light coming toward him. The ray suddenly vanished along with the burst of potential, energy that had come from a finite source, one that had been quickly expended.

  The onlookers, scores of them, screamed in horror and surprise. Even before Jubal finished blinking the burn from his retinas he knew what had produced their outbursts, and dreaded it. On the ground were the mummified remains of Aricana’s husband. Every drop of moisture had been drained from his body, the fat had melted away instantly, reducing his girth substantially, and the skin of his face and hands were stretched tight to the bone, yet his clothing was completely undamaged.

  “That is what comes from messing with Aakacarns and their tools,” a voice in the crowd shared with anyone willing to listen. The saying was repeated over and over again and would no doubt spread throughout the community and be on the tongues of every person in the settlement by the end of the day.

  “You killed him. Your filthy dark magic killed him!” Aricana was hysterical and there was no point trying to reason with her, the sudden grief would not allow it.

  “This is what I came here to avoid,” Jubal spoke the words softly.

  “Well, you failed,” she bit back amid her sobs.

  Pan pointed to the dead man. “Everybody, all of you standing around gawking at what happened, take a good look. This is exactly what the Instructor risked when he rescued hundreds of you from the earthquake. It is what each of us risk when we use the energy of our life-force to help you.”

  His words were a sobering reality everyone needed to be aware of and would be a potent reminder to all Melody-wielders of what could happen to them.

  Jubal shook his head, sadly, and then focused on Aricana. “Yes, I failed and for that I am truly sorry. Japen died because of anger and ignorance. It is not possible for anyone but a Nephilim to safely wield potential and even for us it is dangerous,” he held up his hand when she opened her mouth. “You and your immediate family, Herman and Zordan, will continue to be granted access to my food stores, but must be escorted at all times while on the premises. The trust I extended to you and yours has been violated and so this is the only way to avoid a repeat of this situation.”

  He looked to the crowd. “Someone send for Thanatos,” he said and then walked away, trying not to listen to Japen’s wife and two boys crying over a tragedy that could have been avoided.

  Chapter Fifteen: Progress

  In the six months that followed the death of Japen, Isis gave birth to a son she and Osiris named Horace, Jubal was pleased for the happy couple. Polygamy became more popular, Vashti did not approve. The amount of pregnant women increased and keeping everybody fed became a lot easier after the Aakasear composed a Melody. The Aaka actually caused plants to grow from seedling to maturity r
ight before the eyes.

  As the population grew, incidences of violence were on the rise, perhaps a result of the temporary dwellings being so close to each other and occupied for so long. The Weapocarns spent nearly as much time hunting thieves and trouble makers as they did animals for food, and keeping the peace was becoming a daily challenge. Most of the candidates for judges and administrators Vashti had listed for Roddy were appointed to help handle the disputes and increasing needs of the community.

  People convicted of crimes were sentenced to hard labor, the duration depended on the amount stolen, and whether or not violence had been involved. The sentences ranged from six months up to ten years in the labor camp outside of Semidon. Sedition was still a life sentence but no one had been charged with that crime since the conviction of the Fileeman, Aaken, and their fellow conspirators. Even so, Jubal did not expect the recent convicts to return to their homes anytime soon.

  Respect and perhaps a certain amount of awe for the Aakacarns had grown each day, especially as the people witnessed more and more amazing fetes accomplished by the Melody-wielders. The imprecise term, Spell-casters, was often used by the Tinies who had no understanding of life-force manipulation; to them it was magic. “Remember Japen,” was quoted often and used to remind folks of the risk the Aakacarns were taking on their behalf.

  Roddy had a burst of creativity and composed a string of highly useful Aakas that pleased Jubal even more. His repertoire had grown by twenty-seven Melodies. The chief refused the requests of the original judges and administrators to be taught the new tunes, but later gave them permission to purchase producers with some of those Melodies locked inside. It was a compromise that pleased the officials and increased the personal wealth of Nimrod and his wife, along with that of Jubal and Vashti.

  Batons as producers were still popular, but the new rings and staffs were in high demand. Zeus purchased a diamond-headed staff of cedar shaped like a lightning bolt, and Poseidon, a cedar trident with topaz points. The first tool could zap out half a bolt of lightning and the other, triple beams to shape and manipulate the flow of water. Each tool utilized a recent Aaka, Lightning Bolt and Divert. It seemed both Aakas were more for show, to impress the non-Aakacarns, rather than for any practical use. Casting a lightning bolt tended to attract a man’s attention and keep him listening.