Abraham Allegiant (Chronicles of the Nephilim Book 4) (19 page)

“You mean trusting in faith,” said Sarai with a smirk.

The two of them began plotting in their heads their next four hundred and fifty mile trek into the distant and dangerous exotic land of Canaan.

“You know,” said Sarai, “the Amorites of our city have an established trade route to Canaan. We can join one of their caravans. And we speak their language easy enough.”

Abram snapped his fingers and said, “Zimri-Sin, the tanner, has a cousin down there in the middle of the country. It is the perfect location. He is always boasting about Mamre and his brothers,
Eshcol and Aner, and Mamre’s mighty oak grove just outside Kiriath-Arba.”

Zimri-Sin was a close friend of Abram. But like every relationship, it had its straining points, and Zimri-Sin would often get on Abram’s nerves with his boasting in other’s achievements to make up for his own lack of initiative. And he boasted plenty about Mamre. He had a tendency to exaggerate to make the stories sound more adventurous and the land more exotic and perilous.

“Is not Kiriath-Arba a village of giants?” said Sarai fearfully. Mamre would talk of the mighty Arba, a giant who settled in that region.

“I am never too sure just what is fact and fiction with Zimri-Sin. But you can be sure he exaggerates everything, so do not fret yourself.”

She scoffed, “You mean the giants are only ten feet tall, not twelve feet tall?”

“Sarai, we serve a living God a million feet tall. And that is understating it.”

“Yes, my lord,” she said. “We better get packing, so we can be on our way to Giant Land.”

Abram chuckled. She always had such a spry sense of humor.

He looked at her.

Looked at her lips.

Looked her up and down.

His eyes narrowed like a predator again.

Uh oh,
she thought.
He is back on the hunt. Mr. One Track Mind.

He said, “I do believe we started something that requires finishing, my beauty queen.”

She smiled. “I do believe you speak the will of El Shaddai, my lordly king.”

“Let us give El Shaddai another opportunity for a miracle.”

He kissed her.

She said, “Or an audience. Either way, I am game.”

And they performed a symphony of love for El Shaddai, their Creator.

When Nimrod came out of the debris of the Babel cataclysm twenty-five years earlier, he was a disgraced and demoralized creature. Fifty of his royal offspring, giants born of his union with the daughters of Uruk, survived with him. They traveled eleven miles southwest to Borsippa, to start anew.

He had lost an empire, but he was determined to crawl back up out of the muck to become a mighty ruler again.

But it would not be easy. It would take time. He had lost his sorcerers and magi, his invincible army was crushed into rubble, his indomitable guardian god abandoned him, and his kingdom of power and fear was demolished.

He had many enemies who made several attempts on his life over the years. But he survived them all and began his obsessive pursuit of regaining dominion. He was driven by pure undefiled revenge against the God who cursed him and his vile Chosen Seed, Abram of Haran.

But he was becoming a shriveled version of his former self. A skeletal soul of bitterness and rage. He did not eat or sleep, he seethed. His once bright blue eyes became darkened pools of deadness. His face was gaunt and his back stooped over. He was paranoid of death threats and surrounded himself with a personal guard of his finest warriors. Only one thing about his character grew stronger: His desire to kill.

After these many years, he finally felt that he had a hand on the region again. He built up his army, and by pillaging and plundering the dispersed tribes, he regained some wealth and reputation as a marauder to be feared.

When Nimrod sent a raiding party up to Haran to find Abram, he was infuriated to learn that Abram was gone, left for Canaan, and Terah was dead.

Lucky for Terah,
thought Nimrod.
I would have skinned him alive and eaten his organs.

Terah had been the source of both Nimrod’s rise and fall, with his power over the golem army as well as his fathering of Abram, this “Chosen Seed.”
It was a bitter irony that enraged Nimrod.

But he could not go after Abram now.

Canaan was wild and rough with a completely different environment than Nimrod was familiar with, and it was allegedly crawling with warring clans that had giants. He was not battle ready for that kind of foray yet, so instead he commissioned two pairs of bounty hunters to find Abram in Canaan and bring him back alive. That would allow Nimrod the time to reestablish himself as king of Shinar, his old land of Babylon.

The obvious choice would have been to use his finest Gibborim warriors from his offspring. They were giants, but such beings were a growing presence in Canaan, so they would not stand out as much for their size. On the other hand, their foreign presence would be far too obvious as mercenaries and would draw too much attention. Abram would most likely catch wind of their pursuit in advance.

So instead of using his giant warriors, he would use the opposite: Female assassins. They were smaller and more agile, and could slip through entire locations without being noticed or leaving a trace. Also, they would be disarming because, disguised as hierodules of the cult of Ashtart, no one would ever suspect them of such a mercenary quest.

Their intent was not to kill, but to capture. But their deadly skills would be helpful to dispatch anyone who got in their way. Only if there was no way of capturing Abram or bringing him back
were they allowed to kill him. But even then, Nimrod wanted his head as proof of his demise.

These were slender, feminine women, so they could not wield swords, maces, or axes. Instead, they were trained to do what a woman could do very well, and that was to slash with daggers, hit moving persons with throwing blades, and pinpoint distant targets with a bow and arrow.

But these feminine killers had an additional field advantage that Nimrod had been anxious to try out. Before the confusion of tongues at Babel, Marduk had been working on a secret experiment that was tied to the antediluvian sorcery of Uruk under Anu. He had managed a way to recreate some of their strange occultic experiments he called “transmutation.” He explained it as fusing two different kinds of animals into one. Elohim had created animals to reproduce after their kind. He had established the boundaries of separation within creation that the Watcher gods had sought to overthrow with their miscegenation.

Marduk had managed to splice together some of the essence of animals into these women. The women had all been enhanced with the essence drawn from different predator animals. Unlike the antediluvian mutations that had the body of a man and the head of a beast, these new creations still looked like normal human women, but certain senses and skills had been heightened to those of the animal predators with which they had been united.

Two had been enhanced with the essence of a steppe lioness, and two others with the essence of a peregrine falcon. The only indication one would have that there was something unearthly about these women was their hypnotic eyes whose cornea and pupils became like those of the feline and aviary kinds respectively. They formed two teams of a lion woman and falcon woman each and set on their journey for Canaan.

• • • • •

It did not take long for Semiramis to reestablish herself as the administrative head of the government as Nimrod focused on building his armed forces and man-hunting for slaves. But he was also spending more time on animal hunts. He did not want to be at residence in the city for too long around his family.

And that was just fine for Mardon, because it allowed him to return to his human experimentation and fetish worship.

Nimrod never discovered the conspiracy of assassination led by his queen and son before the Dispersion. Intelligence revealed the two male assassins were surviving relatives of the sons of Noah who had escaped from slavery to enact their personal vengeance. It was a predictable and reasonable scenario that was not worthy of any more consideration once the entire city fell apart into chaos.

This was fortuitous for Semiramis, because she was not going to stop her relentless pursuit of placing her son in the seat of power.

Chapter 34

The four hundred and fifty mile trek to the heart of Canaan took the Amorite trading caravan a couple weeks through desert, forest, and mountain pass until they arrived at Shechem in the center of Canaan, just forty five miles north of Mamre.

Abram had heard of the famous Oak of Moreh, a divining place of the gods at Shechem. Oaks and terebinth trees were sacred locations of divination, where priests would perform rituals and the gods would grant revelation. It was at this huge gnarly wood that El Shaddai visited Abram again to tell him, “To your seed, I will give this land.”

So Abram built an altar there to El Shaddai.

Unfortunately, a famine overtook the land so Abram had to find refuge in Egypt, where he experienced an embarrassing episode with the Pharaoh and his wife Sarai, before he finally ended up at his intended destination, the Oaks of Mamre in Canaan.

But his nephew Lot would not end up there with him. For in the intervening years, Lot had amassed many herds, flocks, and tents because of his ambitious pursuit of wealth, fueled by a competitive spirit. He had never been content with basic sustenance. He always wanted more; he always wanted the best. He had been hypnotized by the exotic luxuriance of Egypt during their short stay there, and he almost did not return with Abram.

But he was trying to serve El Shaddai, so he continued in Abram’s footsteps as his surrogate son whom Abram had spoken often of adopting.

Lot had come to believe in El Shaddai and looked up to Abram’s leadership, but he had a divided heart. He wanted El Shaddai’s promises, but he also wanted wealth, luxury, and security. He could not stand the waiting or the vague and ambiguous nature of El Shaddai’s communication. If Abram was to be king, what kind of kingdom would that be without his own children? And in a rugged land of such brutal people? There were few actual cities because most of them still lived in nomadic tribes or settled clans. These Canaanites were a barbaric lot and they had a growing population of giants in their midst to add to it.

He had seen that there were already some giant clans along the Transjordan valley. The northern towns of Ashteroth, Karnaim, and Edrei had giants called Rephaim that claimed ancient royal heritage. Further south were the Zuzim giants of the settlement of Ham, and further south still near the Salt Sea, were the large Emim of the plain of Kiriathaim and the gigantic Horites near the cities of the plain. It appeared to him that they were spreading out from the Salt Sea area out to these other locations.

And the heart of the Salt Sea was the pentapolis headed by Sodom and Gomorrah. He had heard some things about the urban confederation but had never been there. They had rich natural resources of bitumen, salt, and copper mining. They were the wealthiest, most progressive and cultured of peoples in Canaan. It drove his curiosity wild.

It titillated his lusts. All these years, he had so focused on building his wealth and influence that he neglected the pursuit of a wife. He was almost thirty years old and was still not married. He had turned down the women Abram had arranged for him because they were too simpleminded, and without a vision bigger than their own tribe — like sheep in a herd. He wondered if he might find a more cultured and sophisticated woman in the cities of the plain. After all, cities were centers of the best and brightest, the rich and powerful — the educated. Tent dwelling was starting to seem more and more rustic to him. Rural existence felt unsophisticated and primitive, and could very well be the source of the violence that seemed to rule the land.

But tent dwelling and shepherding was what he was raised to do, so he did it well and expanded his resources so that one day he could make the transition over to city life. He would sell his possessions to buy a house in a city and find a trade that would free him from the smell of goats, sheep, and cattle.

In fact, he had done so well with his herds, that the land where he and Abram sojourned simply could not support both their growing households and herds. Abram had near two thousand members in his clan by now, and nearly seven hundred of them were under Lot’s household authority. It finally came to a head at the height of the grazing season.

Lot’s herdsmen complained to him that Abram’s livestock were getting the best grazing fields as well as imposing on Lot’s livestock feed. This was no small thing as it affected the health of Lot’s herds, and therefore the wealth he was seeking to expand.

It was time to part ways.

Lot met with Abram and explained the problem one afternoon out on the rolling hills between Bethel and Ai.

“Are you mad?” exclaimed Abram. “We are a family! You are my inheritor. You want to just give that all up?”

“There is no more room for the both of us,” said Lot. “This latest problem with our herds is only the tip of the ziggurat. You know that.”

He was right. Abram was a fool to think that the young lad with a wandering eye that he had taken with him out of Ur of the Chaldees would be any more satisfied with Abram’s clan than he was with Nahor’s. He was a restless heart and wanted more of the world than he should have.

But Abram did not give up too quickly. “Sarai and I will have no children and God promised this land to my seed. You are the nearest kin and I have always thought you would be the one to take on the family name. What if I adopt you now, and grant you firstborn privileges?”

Lot could not look at him. It was already too late. Lot had made up his mind. And he certainly did not want to live the nomadic or
village life of livestock and agriculture. But he could not bring himself to say it.

Abram knew Lot’s heart was back in the city life of Ur, or more recently the city life of exotic and dangerous Egypt.

“Uncle, I have always respected and honored you. But I need room to grow my herds and build the life that I want to build, follow my heart, pursue my dreams — not yours.”

Abram teared up. He loved his nephew deeply and had poured his heart into mentoring him into a man of El Shaddai. But now, it seemed he had failed, and he was losing his only surrogate for a son. Was El Shaddai’s promise being thwarted? Was it all a big jest?

But Abram knew he had lost.

He sighed. “Let there be no strife between us. If you must go, then go. The whole land is before you. Choose your inheritance, and I will take the rest. If you go right, I will go left, if you go left, I will go right.”

Lot could not believe it. Abram the patriarch of the clan was giving his lowly nephew, the choice. It was yet another example of the kind of love this man had given Lot all his life, and Lot was not going to waste the opportunity. He already knew full well where he wanted to go; the Jordan Valley, that Garden of Eden, that echo of Egypt, and in particular, the location of the five cities of the plain, his redemption.

He tried not to sound too excited or give away his strategy, so he faked a casual observation, “Well, I suppose I will go east and you can stay here. You should not be the one to leave. I will cross the Jordan and find my way.”

“Travel on the west side of the Salt Sea,” said Abram. “It is an easier trek to Sodom and Gomorrah.”

Lot flinched. Abram knew exactly what he was up to. He could not hide a thing from the man who took care of him all these years.

And yet, he could hear a soul wrenching pain in Abram’s words.

Lot was breaking Abram’s heart.

But there was nothing he could do. He heard the cities calling him. It was his destiny. An exciting new world of unknown experiences.

Sarai was suffering a bout of depression, or as she called it, a malady of sadness. It had been five or so years since they first left Mesopotamia to become nomads in this unruly land. She had married Abram and had followed him and his vision with her whole heart. She believed in him and he adored her. Even the incident in Egypt did not sway her faith in El Shaddai and grace for her husband.

While Abram’s clan was sojourning in Egypt to escape the famine in Canaan, the Pharaoh had noticed Sarai and wanted her to be one of his concubines. But Abram feared that if Pharaoh discovered she was his wife, he would have Abram killed to take her for himself. So Abram remembered Nimrod’s comments before the fiery furnace and commanded Sarai to tell him she was Abram’s sister.

Which was technically half-true. She was his half-sister.

She dutifully obeyed and Pharaoh took her into his court for future consummation. As a bride price, Abram received from Pharaoh much of the wealth they now enjoyed: Servants, animals, and silver and gold. All of which, Abram felt guilty for. But he could not reveal the truth for fear of his life.

El Shaddai sent plagues upon the Pharaoh in return.

When Pharaoh discovered the real reason for the diseases, he returned Sarai into Abram’s keeping, chastised him, and sent them back to Canaan.

Sarai knew her husband and his weaknesses, his sins, but loved him anyway. He was a man of such confidence and faith, who would have lapses of trust and seek to control events for his own benefit. Even though El Shaddai had promised him his seed would inherit the land of Canaan, he sometimes felt that he had to manage things on his own because El Shaddai did not seem to be following through.

It only and always resulted in pain for them both.

But Sarai knew she had her own weaknesses and lapses of trust as well.

If El Shaddai had promised Abram a seedline, then why would he make Sarai barren?

Her childlessness continued to eat at her soul. She would see other mothers with their infants or playful children around them and feel a deep pain of grief in her heart. She felt as if she was nothing. She had no purpose, no meaning to her life. Of course, she loved her husband with every part of her heart, liver, and intestines, and he was all she had in this world, so she clung to him with a fierce devotion despite the uncertainties and suffering.

But that was only the half of it. The Bedouin lifestyle of tent dwelling and constant living on the move was wearing her down with loneliness and despair. She had been raised in a sophisticated life back in Ur and Mesopotamia. But in a Bedouin camp, there are no markets nearby to shop on a daily basis, no long-term close neighbors with which to share her thoughts, no roots from which to draw stability.

And the tents were like living in poverty compared to city houses. In the city, the mud brick homes kept a cool temperature in summer and warmth in the winter. Tents on the other hand were made of goatskins that barely provided a comfortable shade in summer and barely kept the winds at bay in winter. And they smelled atrocious in hot weather. There was little or no furniture, and the only privacy she and Abram could manage was hanging curtains to create separate rooms within the large tent. They slept on bedrolls rolled out on the ground, and ate on rugs.

It was not that she longed for the life of a princess, she just wanted a nest that was a refuge from the world outside, and their meager nomadic tent city was just another element of her increasing feeling of alienation.

So when Abram told her about Lot’s separation from the clan, she broke down in bitter weeping. Lot was one of her few connections to her past life in Mesopotamia. Without his charming energetic face around she felt like there was no hope. She did not want to be a burden to Abram, and she truly wanted to support him in every way she could, but this was too painful for her to hide.

“Sarai, what can I do?” asked Abram.

“How many are going with him?” she said.

“About four hundred of the clan.”

“Where is he going?” she said.

“To Sodom and Gomorrah.”

“That cesspool of evil?”

“We have never been there,” he said. “We do not know how bad it is.”

Sarai blurted out, “What are we going to do? Keep wandering aimlessly in the wilderness?”

Abram sighed. His stomach turned. He knew he had to tell her eventually. “We are going to settle down by the Oaks of Mamre, the Amorite. The one that Zimri-Sin told us about in Harran.”

“It just keeps getting worse,” she cried. “We are going to settle down by a clan of giants!”

“It is two miles north of the giants in Kiriath-Arba,” said Abram. “Do not exaggerate, Sarai.”

“I am sorry,” she said. “We are only in striking distance of a clan of giants. That makes me feel safer.”

“We will be in the midst of three Amorite tribes, the brothers Mamre, Eshcol, and Aner. And we come with the blessing of Zimri-Sin of Haran.”