by Tim Chaffey
“A seer?”
“He’s supposedly able to communicate with spirits.”
“The spirits of those who have passed on?” Noah stroked his chin.
“More disturbing than that.” Garun said. “I’ve heard some of the ideas he teaches her. He says that the Creator is just one of many spiritual beings, or gods, who run this world. They believe Nachash is the most powerful god, so they follow him. They think he’ll reveal secrets about this world that will allow them to become the most powerful people on earth.”
“Do you think these spirits exist?” Noah asked.
Garun breathed deeply. “I wish I could say that I thought it was a hoax.”
“But you don’t.”
“No. They’ve learned things that no one should be able to know.” He looked away. “But I think it’s come at a cost. Naamah is different. She was always spoiled, but she used to smile and have a good sense of humor. Now. . . .” He shook his head. “She’s cold and — I’m not sure how else to put it. But it’s sad and, at times, more than a little frightening.”
Noah put a hand on Garun’s shoulder. “I’m sorry to hear that. Tubal-Cain will be unhappy to hear it as well.”
“I’m sure he will. He was always so good to her. But I think when he left, and” — he cast Noah an apologetic look — “when you rejected her, she stopped caring about anyone else. Now she just craves power and control.”
“Just like her father.” Noah folded his arms again.
“Yes. They make a dangerous team.” Garun tugged on the sleeve of his tunic to straighten it under his armor. “I was wrong about her sending the guards after you that night.”
“What do you mean?” Noah asked. “The guards did come after us.”
“Yes, but they were sent to capture Emzara.”
“Em? Why?”
“For revenge. She wanted to make you beg for Emzara’s life.”
Noah put his thumb on his upper lip as he pondered this new information. “Does she still want that?”
Garun shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t heard her mention either of you for quite some time. As I said, ever since you left, she’s been obsessed with this seer and the power he offers. She spends her days in the House of Knowledge for the most part.”
“I guess that’s a good thing.” Noah adjusted his stance. “There isn’t much we can do about it anyway, except take great care if we ever return to Havil. Which, judging from what you’re telling me of Lamech, I’m not sure we’ll ever do. What were some of the other lies he told at the council meeting?”
“His whole story about taking a second wife was false. Taking a second wife allowed him to flaunt his rebellion against the Creator’s ways and show the people that he could do it without any consequences.” Garun snorted his disgust. “His cant about leading his people by example was spot on, though. His example emboldens them to act wickedly too.”
Noah shook his head. “He sounded so convincing.”
“That’s one of the reasons he’s the king. He knows how to manipulate people into doing exactly what he wants.”
“Even if it means worshiping the Great Deceiver.”
Garun let out a breath as he nodded.
“So what about the scribe?” Noah asked.
“Bedin? What about him?”
“Is he really here to study our culture, like the king said, or is he here to spy on us?”
“I think he is here to record what he learns.” Garun shrugged. “That’s one thing Lamech didn’t lie about. He really is pulling together knowledge from all over the world. He’s determined to discover the path to longer life.”
Noah looked askance at Garun. “How?”
Garun chuckled. “I don’t know. But maybe it isn’t as crazy as it sounds. According to the old stories, Greatfather Adam and Greatmother Eve were created to live forever. Maybe there’s a way to at least prolong one’s life.”
Noah considered this, but Garun went on before he could comment.
“When I was a boy, I remember when our town received word that Greatfather died. They said he returned to the dust, just as the Creator said he would.” Garun crossed his arms. “At the time, my grandfather told me what had been passed down to him by Ma’anel — one of Greatfather’s sons. He said that the Most High created Greatfather from the dust of the ground and Greatmother from one of his ribs. They lived in a beautiful garden, but they were only there for a few days until the Serpent deceived Greatmother and she ate from the forbidden tree. After they sinned, the Creator banished them from the garden and cursed the ground.”
“Only a few days?”
Garun shrugged one shoulder. “That’s what I was told.”
“My grandfather told me many of the same details, but I never heard that part,” Noah said. “Also, he said that Greatfather was 930 years old when he died.”
“That’s what I heard too. In fact, I think the king is determined to live longer than that, so he can be seen as greater than the first man.”
“He’s definitely full of pride.”
“Yes he is.” Garun snorted. “But what he doesn’t know is that he’d have to surpass 985 years to outlive Ma’anel. Then again, maybe he does know that, since he mentioned something at the council meeting about living over a thousand years.”
Noah bent down to pluck a long blade of grass from the hillside, wondering about Lamech’s statement. Did the Creator set a limit on how long people could live? If He did, how could Lamech ever hope to break it? Cupping the grass between his hands, Noah lifted it to his lips and blew a long whistling note.
He grinned at Garun’s startled look. Suddenly, his thoughts shifted away from pondering such mysteries and to the man before him. “How did you ever become one of Lamech’s guards?”
“Before Lamech came to Havil, I was part of the city guard. I trained men to defend themselves and to fight. But I always taught that fighting was only for self-defense.” Garun bent and plucked a blade of grass of his own, but instead of raising it to his lips, he began shredding it, his mind on the past. “When Lamech arrived, he brought Sepha’s teachings with him. He joined the guard and quickly rose through the ranks — you’ve seen him. He used his considerable charisma to entice our men to Sepha, promising not only skill and discipline, but power. Before long, he joined the town council.” Shaking his head, Garun tossed the wad of shredded grass onto the ground, where the breeze tickled the strands, teasing them apart and scattering them across the hillside. “They never knew what hit them. Lamech — when he knows what he wants, he’s like a force of nature, inexorable and undeniable. With the support of most of the guards, he eventually assumed control of the city and made himself king. He assigned me to guard Tubal-Cain and Naamah.”
A quiet bitterness tinged with self-recrimination had crept into Garun’s voice as he told his story. Noah watched the fibers of Garun’s grass dance and twine among the still-standing blades, trying to figure out how to ask his next question without causing his friend more pain. “Why did no one stand up to him?”
“I ask myself that all the time. I wish I had done something right away, but I was blind. I don’t think anyone could have imagined how quickly he’d rise to power and how wicked he really was.”
“So what was Havil like before he arrived?”
“I’m sure it wasn’t as good as I like to think it was. I can’t blame the king for everything.” Garun gazed across the water and rubbed his hand over his chin with a sound like sand blowing across stone. “We had problems to deal with, like violence and theft. You don’t have that many people together in one place without some trouble. But since Lamech, people seem to be unashamed of their evil acts.” A contemplative smile crossed his lips. “You know, I think I might take you up on your offer.”
“What offer?”
“To move here.”
Noah raised an eyebrow. “You’ll want to collect your family, of course.” He paused. “I know someone who has a boat.”
Grinning, Garun
gripped Noah’s shoulder. “Let me give that some more thought. For now, I should get back to Ashur’s to help Bedin. We’re moving into that guest house today.”
Chapter 8
Emzara pinched another piece of dough and arranged it with the others on the thin clay dish. Fussing over the placement, she ensured the proper spacing, then she turned to stoke the coals at the base of the stonework oven, readying the temperature so that it would be just right when she placed the tray inside.
She replaced the cover on her starter for the next time she made bread and wound the leather cord tightly on the lip. As she raised it to the shelf, she bumped it against the edge and her other hand rushed to protect and steady the clay pot. With her second attempt, she succeeded in carefully replacing it on top of the dark-stained wooden ledge.
After grabbing the broom, she glanced at the corner where a bowl sat upon a crate. Not yet. Shaking her head, she tried to focus on her methodical sweeping, which sent dirt and bits of food swirling around her bare feet.
The small house Noah and Aterre built had started out relatively plain, but Emzara’s touches soon made it a home. After the wedding, Aterre moved in with Ara, and Noah expanded the kitchen and dining areas. It was more rustic than her childhood home, but it was theirs. And it takes less time to sweep.
She flicked the broom twice more before losing resolve. I need to know. Dropping the handle, she rushed over to the bowl. She barely flinched when the broom hit the ground behind her. Picking up the container, she stared at the contents. There was no mistaking it. Cradling the little hollowed-out bowl of sprouting grain pods, she danced around the room. She moved into the bedroom and placed the bowl next to their bed before pirouetting back through the doorway and into the well-lit main room.
Moments later, the smell of fresh bread brought her whirling thoughts back down to earth. Alright, Em. You’ve had your reward. Now it’s time to get back to work. She grinned, and placed the fresh bread rounds into a square cloth. She tucked the edges of the fabric in and tied up the four corners, then set the packet on the table as she scooted her feet into her sandals and bound the straps around her ankles. Taking up the warm bundle and balancing it on her head, she left the house and joined the familiar path to her father’s place. Looking to her right, she tried to spot Noah and Garun where she had left them earlier on the scenic overlook, but they were gone.
It still felt foreign to knock at her old home, but Emzara forced herself to rap on the front door before she stepped in. “Baba.” Her eyes quickly adjusted to the darker space, and she realized he must have heard her approaching because he already hovered near the door.
“Emz! So good to see you.” Ara pulled her in for one of his embraces.
She soaked in the comfort of her strong father and her soul warmed, knowing he was always there for her.
“I don’t often see you away from the shipyard anymore.” He winked. “Now that there’s another man in your life.”
A sympathetic smile tweaked the corners of her lips as the two of them walked into the house. “Baba, I know you weren’t feeling well this morning, so I brought some bread rounds for you. And it gives me an excuse to stop by and give you some care as well.”
“Ah, how you spoil me. I’m doing much better. I could’ve even worked today, but . . .”
“But someone who is very wise and who loves you very much gave you orders to take it easy.”
“Well, we’ve always called you ‘Boss’ for a reason.” His eyes crinkled up at her as he eased his body back into a pile of soft cushions near a low table in the main room.
Emzara set her bundle down in front of him and reached for an empty cup. “Here, you try one of these while I get you more water.”
She made her way to the kitchen. It’s still so hard to believe. I just want to burst with this secret. Beaming, she placed the dipper into the drawn bucket of water and refilled the mug. After forcing herself to pause and allow her facial expression to return to what felt normal, she hurried back to her father.
“Here’s your —” Before she knew what was happening, she bumped into a low table and lost her footing. Awkwardly trying to right herself, she flailed for a moment and tumbled into a heap next to her father. The contents of the cup shot forward in an arc, as if at a slowed pace, and deep spots formed on the cushions and on the front of her father’s tunic. “Oh, how clumsy of me!” Losing all control of her emotions, Emzara burst into tears.
Ara snorted. “It’s completely fine, Emz.” He laid a hand on her shoulder, causing her to sob harder. “With the balmy afternoons we’ve been having, this will dry in no time.” He waved the worst part of his damp garment before her, emphasizing his words of comfort.
She wiped her filmy eyes. “I — I’m sorry!”
“What’s wrong? You’re not usually like this.”
“I know.” Emzara sniffed, trying to regain control of her emotions. What is wrong with me?
Rubbing her back in little circles, he tried to peer into her face. “This isn’t about spilled water, is it? Tell me what’s going on.”
“Well . . .” Unwanted tears pricked at the back of her eyes again and made their way to the corners. She blinked. “I’ve thought it may be possible for a while, but as of today, I’m pretty sure I’m carrying your grandchild.” She looked sheepishly into his face.
Now tears formed in his eyes and he hugged her tightly, muttering barely discernable prayers of blessing and thankfulness under his breath.
It’s more real telling someone else. She shook her head in renewed wonder, awe, and disbelief at the joy that flooded her heart.
“Tell me more.” Ara pulled back, looking ready for one of the heart talks they had so often shared when she was a girl.
“Well, a while ago Kmani and Nmir told me early signs to be looking for.” She flushed a little and bypassed the specifics. “I noticed some and wondered, but felt so unsure. I — I didn’t want to be wrong.” Emzara shrugged before continuing. “So I tried wetting kernels of certain grains that Nmir showed me with — well, you don’t want those details. Anyway, if they sprout, then that’s a good indication. I waited as long as I could before checking today, and here we are.”
Ara’s wide grin matched her own. “So there will be a new little one here in several whole moons. Does Noah know?”
She shook her head. “I haven’t had a chance to tell him yet.”
“Finding out that you’ll be receiving a gift of life from the Creator is a unique joy. I remember when your mother first told me her news about you. I jumped up and shouted. She laughed that bubbling laugh of hers, like bangles making music together. We were so happy. Although,” he touched her cheek and smiled, using his thumb to wipe away a tear that lingered there, “it definitely made her cry more quickly as well.”
“What happened next?” Emzara pulled her knees to her chest, cherishing every detail about her mother.
He closed his eyes and spoke slowly, as if savoring every word of the precious memories. “In the whole moons to come, we talked and planned as if your coming was the first and only of its kind on this earth. She worked to prepare linens for you, delighting over each. We’d guess what you might be like and talked often about you — even until just before daybreak. I was almost 200 and she was just a little younger, but we felt as giddy as 20-year-olds, yet as endowed with all the responsibility and respectability of people who are 900.” Ara paused.
“What else about Amma?”
“We had this game together. I’d made a little wooden bed for you — so tiny. She’d hide it each day, and I had to find it when I came home from work. Some days it’d be in the kitchen. Another day, I found it on a branch in one of the trees outside. She was very creative. Sometimes it was with the animals, or even tied to the coastline as a little boat. Each day I’d bring it back and as I cleaned it, she’d tell me a story about you. With the kitchen, it was about how you’d be a great cook. When it was on the water, the tale was all about the many adventures you’
d have. The last place she hid it was on our pallet. She whispered to me that you’d come into both of our hearts and lives to stay.”
Emzara felt full, hearing how much her mother had delighted in her while she was still in the womb.
“You know, she left us too soon,” Ara said. “Nmir was there to help with the birth, but once you came, your mother struggled to recover. We placed you on her chest and she glowed. I’ll never forget the tenderness and love shining from her whole being. But that couldn’t defeat whatever was at work inside her body.”
He bowed his head in his hands and Emzara wept with him. “I miss her so.” Ara cleared his throat and smiled deeply. “You have her hair, her gift for seeing the world for what it can be, and her strength of character. With all she and I discussed about how you’d look and behave, you’ve surpassed our every dream.”
Emzara held his hand. “I wish I’d known her.”
“Everything alright? Why all the tears?” Noah’s voice filtered into her world, expanding it from the one her father had just shared. She rose to her feet, glided to Noah, and kissed his cheek.
“Yes.” She tilted her head up while reaching for one of his hands and placing it on her still-flat middle. “I’m a little emotional right now because, as I just told Baba, someone might soon be calling you Baba.”
“What?” His mouth agape and eyes wide, Noah held her at arm’s length.
Emzara beamed, nodding.
Ara stood and Noah looked askance at him. “She’s — I mean — we’re — baby?”
Both father and daughter laughed. Although Noah’s words were far from eloquent, his face spoke volumes. He held on to her tightly.