Noah: Man of Resolve

by Tim Chaffey

  I’d prefer that you come with me.” Noah looked the elderly man in the eyes. “But I understand that you want to stay close to your family.”

  Bakur leaned his 810-year-old frame against the outer hull of one of the ships under construction. “I’m sorry to see you go, but I understand why you must. So what becomes of the shipyard?”

  Noah slowly surveyed the flurry of activity around him. Over a dozen employees scurried about as they neared completion of another pair of ships for Malrak, a major port to the southwest. As the business had expanded in the past century, Noah had replaced a few run-down buildings and built a large warehouse for lumber, tools, and other supplies. Even more impressive, a giant four-story construction barn butted up close to the sea. Reserved for constructing the 100-cubit-long cargo vessels, this outbuilding allowed the shipwrights to work in any weather, and it contained moveable platforms for easier access to even the tallest portions of the ship.

  Noah smiled to mask his pain at leaving it all behind. “If you won’t come with me, then it’s all yours.”

  “What is?” Bakur asked.

  Noah spread his arms out wide. “All of this. The shipyard. The whole business. The house. It’s yours.” He pointed to the small river runner that he had been loading all morning. “Except that one, of course.”

  The old man shook his head. “I never asked for . . .”

  “I know, but if anyone deserves it, you do,” Noah said. “There’s no one else I’d rather see it go to. After all, you helped train me.”

  Bakur stared off into the distance and a smile slowly crept across his lips. “Those were the days, weren’t they?”

  “They sure were.” Noah placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’ve already written up the papers in your name. They’re in my office.”

  “I can’t believe this is happening — that you’re really going through with this. It’s all so . . .” Bakur turned his head up as if searching for a word. He shrugged and said, “so sudden.” He sighed. “Make sure you add a line to the effect that the business reverts to you if you ever decide to come back.”

  “I can do that, but it won’t be necessary. I have a new calling.” He glanced toward the city. “Besides, I doubt I’ll be safe here for much longer.”

  Bakur nodded grimly. “You’ve made a lot of enemies around here by doing what’s right.”

  Noah had stood against the younger generations’ practices for a long time, and a growing number of them resented him for it. Being a successful businessman and occasional member of the council earned him some respect, but based on the snide comments and angry looks, most of the town’s burgeoning population was not going to miss him.

  “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m grateful for your example over all these years,” Bakur said. “I’ll truly miss you and Emzara.”

  Noah nodded. “And we’ll miss you and many others. We’ll get everything finalized later. Right now, I need to finish loading the ship.”

  After enlisting the assistance of two younger employees, Noah headed for the warehouse to finish the tedious process of moving items to the boat. Two days earlier, Noah had finished loading Emzara’s boat with many of their belongings, along with various tools and devices necessary for shipbuilding, though he was careful to leave plenty for the shipyard to run efficiently. She had left with Laleel and Garun the night before last, and he could almost feel the distance between them grow with every moment he delayed.

  When most of his items were packed away on the ship, Noah went to his office and stretched out on the nearly vacant floor. Closing his eyes, he smiled as memories rushed through his thoughts. This room had been his second home for centuries. He could have ruminated for weeks on the memories he’d made here, but a knock at the door stirred him from his daydream.

  Noah rolled over and pushed himself up. “Come in.”

  The door opened and Pav, one of the young men who had helped him load the boat, stepped in. “Sir, Bakur said there are guards from the city waiting outside. Everyone is required to head to the city square immediately.”

  Noah raised an eyebrow. “Did they say why?”

  “The memorial celebration for the fallen council members.”

  “That’s not until tomorrow.”

  Pav shrugged. “It must have been moved up a day for some reason.”

  “I see. Thank you. I’ll be out shortly.”

  “I’ll let them know.” Pav turned to leave.

  “Pav, wait.” Noah gestured for the young man to enter his office. “Did the guards see you?”

  “No, sir. I was inside and Bakur told me to fetch you.”

  “Great. How’d you like to earn three weeks’ pay for a short errand?”

  The young man nodded excitedly. “What do you want me to do?”

  Noah slipped a gold pikka from the leather band around his neck. “Wait in here until everyone’s gone, and then take my riverboat to the old docks.”

  Pav’s eyes followed the golden disc in Noah’s hand. “On the river? And what if they stop me at the bridge?”

  Noah nodded. “You shouldn’t have any trouble, but if they ask where you’re going, just tell them your boss wanted you to take it for a short ride on the river. If they tell you to get to the ceremony, ask them to let you use the old docks so you can get to the square faster.” Noah flipped the pikka to Pav. “I’ll make sure you receive two more if you complete the task.”

  “I will. Thanks. I’ll stay out of sight until the guards are gone.” Pav headed to the next room.

  Noah adjusted his wrap and took a deep breath, contemplating why the council would have changed the timing of the ceremony. Bowing his head, he focused on his recent encounter with the Creator, and a sense of awe and responsibility washed over him. Creator, I promised I would serve You. Help me to remain true to my word and faithful to You.

  Moments later, Noah marched down the long hallway and stepped outside. Over at the main building, a guard directed his employees toward the road while two more approached from Noah’s right. Each sentry sported a leather jerkin under a bronze chest plate and shoulder covers along with a long dagger in a sheath hanging from the left side of his belt.

  “Noah,” the man on the left said.

  Spinning to face them head on, Noah said, “Morning peace.”

  “Sir,” the guard said without changing his stoic expression. “We have orders to take you to the council right away.”

  Noah tilted his head and smiled when he recognized the speaking guard as Elnach, a grandson of Ashur and Navea. “For what reason?”

  Elnach shook his head. “The council chairman didn’t say. He just told us to find you and bring you to them.”

  “The chairman?” Noah asked. “They’ve already selected a new leader?”

  The guard nodded. “Ashur. He wanted you to join them for the memorial.”

  Noah pursed his lips and turned toward town. “Then I shouldn’t keep your grandfather waiting.”

  They led Noah on the shortest route to the city’s central district, which took them through Iri Geshem’s old city square. These days he typically avoided the area altogether. He hated the increasing violence and blatant immorality, and he struggled to block the vile images that it burned into his mind. Sadness and disappointment washed over Noah as they passed through the area. Ashur’s old inn served as a brothel, and rumors persisted that he still owned the place despite his public denials. The ancient town hall stood in disrepair while functioning as a shop selling idols and potions designed to enchant their users. Rickety shelters leaned against many of the buildings, and a foul stench filled the air from the garbage and human waste dumped in the open square. Shaking his head, Noah tried to comprehend how so many denizens lived in this squalor and how his beloved city had come to this.

  People still milled about — taking their time to get to the memorial. A woman, obviously from the brothel, almost bumped into him as she laughed with her male companion. Noah quickly sidestepped her, but in the brief moment
they exchanged glances, her eyes told a story of misery. In a darkened alleyway, two ragged young boys sat, their heads bent low. Noah had often offered jobs and mentoring to those in need, though few had accepted over the years, most choosing to continue searching for worldly ways to numb their pain. Oh, Most High, surely You didn’t create us for this. Use me however You will to show them the life that comes in following Your ways. And God, if that means . . .

  “Going to the memorial?” A confident voice interrupted Noah’s prayer. “You’ll need one of these.” Holding up a small animal idol, the salesman started his pitch. “With so much death around, Zsanom is the only one to protect you now.”

  Noah turned away and held his arm out, refusing the offer. He picked up his pace, eager to break away from this environment.

  The guards grabbed Noah’s elbow and turned him onto the broad street that led straight to the central district. Now beyond the malodorous area, Noah took in a deep breath of fresh air, trying to clear the disturbing effects from his spirit. Hundreds of citizens marched toward the square in the distance; most stepped aside for Noah and his armored escorts.

  The sounds of construction grabbed Noah’s attention as they neared the massive theater, where crowds frequently gathered to be entertained by plays and other activities. Initially, the dramas showcased talented performers from around the world acting out epic adventures or gripping tragedies. In his days on the council, Noah often took Emzara to the shows, where they enjoyed the best seats in a section reserved for council members and dignitaries. But Noah stopped attending many years ago. In the past few decades, most of the performances had degenerated to the point of focusing on coarse jesting and sexually immoral behavior. Recent renovations expanded the theater even more to allow for sport and often featured warriors who fought to the death to entertain bloodthirsty audiences.

  Noah beheld the newest construction project attached to the theater’s southwest side. Roughly the size of the shipyard’s largest barn and featuring extremely thick stone walls, the addition spread up half the outer wall and around the outside of the theater. A stone ramp dropped below ground through a large tunnel. That must be the new entrance to the lower levels Zain told me about.

  They ambled past the arena and under the imposing gate that led into the central district. Tens of thousands of people moved about the expansive square as they waited for the ceremony to begin.

  “Over there.” Elnach nudged Noah and pointed toward the new town hall, a towering edifice that dwarfed all the other extravagant buildings around it both in size and elegance. The sunlight reflected off the hall’s white stone façade causing Noah to shade his eyes with his hand. A sprawling balcony jutted out from the third floor, allowing those on the terrace to look over the entire square.

  Elnach led Noah to a reserved section on the ground that featured about 25 rows of benches. It was roped off and guarded to prevent any unauthorized admittance. Beyond that area, an immense crowd had gathered. Noah was ushered to a seat near the middle of the reserved section, giving him a perfect view of whoever would address the crowd.

  “Why so close?” Noah asked.

  Elnach shrugged. “I believe many of the business owners will be in this area.” He and the other guard turned and marched back the way they had come.

  From high above, a metallic clang sounded twice, alerting attendees to get ready for the ceremony to begin. Fashioned by Tubal-Cain, the huge bronze disc hung at the top of the town hall and could be heard throughout Iri Geshem. Where is Tubal-Cain? Noah scanned the crowd but did not see any of his friends. He recognized some of the people around him, but at best they were merely acquaintances. The wife of a man who owned a tavern in the old city scowled at Noah. Apparently, she still held a grudge against him from when he, along with the majority of the council, rejected the initial proposal to allow the establishment of such drinking halls in town. Noah shook his head. That must have been 200 years ago, and it was changed soon after that.

  The metal plate was struck again. On the platform above, five council members dressed in traditional white garb strode to the edge of the terrace and dropped into their ornate seats. Four spots remained empty; one belonged to Ashur, and the replacement council members would fill the other three. Ashur walked to the middle of the group and gestured with his arms for the crowd to be silent.

  “Citizens of Iri Geshem, thank you for arriving on short notice to honor the lives of three faithful servants of our city. This past week has been very difficult for all of us.” Criers stationed strategically throughout the square echoed each line of his speech so that everyone heard the proceedings. “This tragedy has affected each one of us. We’ve lost dear friends and tremendous servants of our great city, but we know that they would want us to move forward and take every opportunity to ensure that Iri Geshem has a bright future.”

  He motioned to his fellow councilors. “We’ve been in constant meetings throughout the week, deliberating on what to do next. We decided to replace our fallen members so that your council would have every advantage as we make important decisions. So please welcome your new council members.”

  Although he had anticipated that the new elders would not be followers of the Creator, Noah’s heart sank as he watched his concerns become reality. He did not know the first woman mentioned, but the serpent markings on her arms told him enough. The man was a wealthy merchant and the other woman was an apothecary who peddled the intoxicating substances often used in Nachash worship. Both had repeatedly stood against the previous council’s efforts to maintain the Creator’s ways in the city, and they made no secret of their contempt for Noah.

  Another clash from the bronze plate rang out. Music filled the air from all directions as shouts resounded from the north side of the courtyard, causing Noah to turn. A large wagon pulled an enormous object toward the middle of the square by a team of six lunkers. Having seen a similar event in Havil in his youth, Noah shook his head, knowing full well what rested beneath the cloth. He spun back to glare at Ashur, only to see the chairman looking straight at him with a wicked grin. Noah scanned the crowd for an escape route, but he realized that dozens of guards now surrounded his position.

  Once the lunkers stopped, Ashur spoke again. “Today is a monumental day for Iri Geshem. We will finally cast off the restrictive rules of those who follow the so-called Creator. Today, our marvelous city becomes even greater as we officially dedicate it to the mighty Serpent, Nachash.”

  As the covering dropped from the stone serpent, cheers erupted from the masses. Gold glimmered in a long line along the back of the figure, and red stones filled its eye sockets. Similar to the idol in Havil, the stone abomination stood roughly twenty cubits tall, with its body coiled at the base and its head erect, as if poised to strike.

  When the people finally quieted, Ashur continued. “The new council’s first act is designed to foster unity among our citizens and loyalty to our true god. When you hear the music play, you will bow down to Nachash. All who refuse will be arrested and will face banishment or worse.” He stared directly at Noah. “We cannot permit such treasonous acts to go unpunished.” Ashur held his arms up high. “Are you ready?”

  A deafening shout instantly sounded from the populace, and a chill swept through Noah. At the same time, a confidence he had never known before surged through his body. The hairs on his arms and neck seemed to stand and yet he struggled to repress a smile.

  Ashur lowered his arms. Instantly, drummers throughout the courtyard beat on their instruments in rhythm. People all around Noah spun to face the idol and hastily dropped to the ground in obeisance.

  Defiantly, Noah folded his arms across his chest and refused to budge, keeping his back turned to the serpent god. Ashur’s lust for wealth and control stirred feelings of pity inside Noah. Nevertheless, he knew Ashur’s disobedience would soon be punished. Creator, be with me and guide my actions. May these people realize that You are the Most High and that the Serpent is the Great Deceiver.

 
The music paused as Ashur held up a hand and looked around the square. “Did you not hear the music?”

  Noah followed Ashur’s gaze around the square and noticed a few dozen people standing.

  “You will have one more chance to honor Nachash,” Ashur said. “If you refuse to bow, you will be arrested promptly.”

  The music started again, but Noah stood tall, sticking out like a taroc next to a group of buzzbirds. Ashur grinned at him, as did several other council members as four guards approached.

  The captain spoke. “You were ordered to bow!”

  Noah raised his voice. “I bow only to the Cre —” A sharp pain exploded in the back of his knees, dropping him to the ground. Noah looked up and realized it was Elnach who had struck him.

  “Bow!” Elnach held a staff above his head, ready to deliver another blow.

  Noah stood quickly despite the searing pain in his legs. “The Creator is the Most High!”

  Another blow to his legs caused his knees to buckle, but he caught himself before hitting the ground. As he tried to right himself, he glimpsed a fist just before it crashed into his face. Suddenly, he fell backward and everything faded to black.

  Chapter 31

  Noah raised his bound hands and pushed them against his head to quell the throbbing that gripped his attention the moment he regained consciousness. He carefully opened his eyes, trying to take in his unfamiliar surroundings. Daylight streamed in through a thin opening at the top of the stone wall to his right. He cringed after taking in a breath of the stale, pungent air.

  “You’re finally awake.”

  The familiar voice slowly registered in his head. Tubal-Cain. Noah rolled onto his left side to face his friend. “They went after you too?”

  The blacksmith rested against the wall, each arm stretched to the side by ropes tied to his wrist on one end and a ring in the wall on the other. His head sank. “And Adira, but I don’t know where she is. They arrested dozens of people.”

  “I’m sorry. We all should’ve left with Em.”