Noah Primeval (Chronicles of the Nephilim) (5 page)

BOOK: Noah Primeval (Chronicles of the Nephilim)
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“Husband, you are not a god. But sometimes I think you want to be one with your self-reliance and aloofness.”

“Wife, you could not handle a god. You can barely handle my manhood.” He would not be distracted now by her playful criticisms.

She jumped into his arms
, wrapping her legs tightly around his torso, knocking him off balance. But he caught her. They laughed, and melted together before their Maker.

 

Noah choked awake, disoriented, underwater. He fought toward the surface in search of air, and broke through gasping.

A
n endless sea stretched around him, nothing but water to the farthest horizon. He turned about and saw a beautiful white temple resting on the waters before him. He swam to the edifice and pulled himself out of the water, dripping wet. He climbed the steps up into the temple and cautiously stepped into the inner courtyard, onto a pavement of sapphire stone.

Dizziness swept over him.
The inside of the temple did not match the outward size he had seen. On the outside, it stood about forty cubits wide by seventy cubits long. Inside, it seemed as if he had walked through a portal into another world. In that other world ranged the flaming messengers of Elohim’s heavenly host. Their brightness hurt his eyes. They did not speak. They just watched Noah in silence— a myriad of them.

Noah stood
still, his feet riveted to the sapphire floor. The presence of the Shining Ones intimidated him. He could not move. Then his eyes caught sight of a marble pedestal set out in the open by itself, with a large clay tablet resting on it.

With trepidation, he approached the pedest
al and looked upon the tablet. The crowded triangular markings of cuneiform covered it, the writing system used in the Land Between the Rivers. Only the scribes and the upper classes of city palaces were taught it. But Noah could read it because his father had been a city ruler and his great grandfather Enoch had been an
apkallu
wisdom sage, so they passed down knowledge of this important new means of communication. Even Methuselah, who tended to be antisocial, had taken it upon himself to stay learned in such matters.

Noah
studied the tablet. At the center was a drawing of a large rectangular box structure similar to the barges he had seen on the shipping docks of Shuruppak when he was younger. But this was different. The dimensions next to the box made it larger than any barge he had ever seen. It looked more like a warehouse. He studied it curiously
.

A sound behind him made him turn, expecting to see an angel

But it was no angel. It was the god Anu. The being jumped at him with a
hiss
of viper fangs!

Noah sat up abruptly, shaking off the dream.
Beads of perspiration gathered on his forehead. He reached for Emzara for support. She was gone.

Outside, the shadows grew long.
It was getting late. Time for the feast and assembly.

He took a couple of deep breaths to settle his thoughts, then got dressed quickly
. He stopped one moment to smell the sweet savor of memory in the red linen dress lying on his bedding. The scent of crocus filled his nostrils. He smiled and left the tent.

Outside,
he found the clan already celebrating around the fire with music and dance. Families were enjoying one another and cooking their meals. Some gestured for him to join them. But Noah had something to take care of first.

 

In the children’s tent, Lamech and Betenos were enjoying their grandchildren before the assembly meeting started. Lamech loved telling Shem and Japheth fantastic legends of warriors battling strange monsters with dragon heads and lion bodies, mystical trees guarded by demonesses, and wars of giants and Cherubim. He would tell the boys not to share the legends with others, that they would be their own special tales of adventure, which made them feel very special indeed.

The boys would often wonder why grandmother Betenos would jump in and correct grandfather’s
fabulous tale as if he did not tell it properly. They had no idea that Lamech’s tales were true. Lamech told them what he and Betenos had actually experienced in the past as Karabu giant killers, under cover of a made-up tale. He and Betenos felt that the intensity of their experiences were too traumatic for little children to handle the reality. It was better served through the safety of imagination. They would grow up soon enough to face the wicked world from which Noah was protecting them.

Lamech and Betenos gathered Shem and Japheth into their arms
for a moment. Lamech pulled out the leather case that held his special weapon. The boys’ eyes went wide with excitement. They had seen it before and knew that grandfather had a nickname for it.

“Rahab,” gasped Shem.

“What does Rahab mean?” asked Japheth.

“Rahab is the giant sea dragon of chaos that gave birth to Leviathan, its own sevenfold increase of terror,” said Lamech. “This
weapon moves like the body of Rahab and bites with ferocity.” Shem leaned in to get a closer look at the case. Lamech snapped at Shem’s nose with a growl. Shem jerked back with a giggling yelp.

“Tell us the story again about where you got it,”
the boy blurted out
.

Betenos saw Lamech’s eyes brighten. He loved to tell his stories. It
made him feel significant in his old age. She knew Lamech loved her with all his heart. But she also knew that he was a man, and men need to feel that they are doing something significant or they wither and fade into depression. Lamech was no different. Losing his arm in battle and stepping down as Patriarch had taken its toll on Lamech’s sense of worthiness. That he had to hide his achievements behind a fictional façade did not help.

“Well,” said Lamech with
deliberate exaggeration, “Rahab is a very special weapon, forged in the heavenly volcano of Mount Sahand amidst the stones of fire by the archangel Gabriel himself. It was given to me to watch over.” He didn’t explain that he was also trained how to use the weapon in the secret angelic order of the Karabu giant killers.

The boys
listened in rapt attention, though they had heard the story a hundred times. They stared at the strange leather case with handle sticking out. Inside was a flexible blade made of unearthly alloy, all five cubits of its length rolled up into the case. They had never seen or heard of anything else like it. It was virtually indestructible. It unrolled and flowed like a whip. No known metal on earth could do that. And this whip would cut giants’ heads from bodies and sever villains’ torsos in two.

“But remember, it is our secret,” said Lamech.

“Our secret,” the boys repeated in unison.

Betenos smiled warmly.
Boys will be boys. And men will be boys
.

Lamech continued
. “And now, Shem, because you are the firstborn, I have a very special commission for you.”

Shem
sat speechless, wondering what it could be. Japheth fidgeted, a little jealous.

“I am handing down Rahab to you as an heirloom,” said Lamech.

Shem’s mouth dropped in shock. No sound came out. His eyes bulged so wide, they hurt.

“I will leave it with you, but you will not withdraw it, and you will not use it until your father lets me teach you how to use it. Do you understand me?”

Shem could only nod his head yes, still staring at the special weapon in its case.

Japheth
started crying. He did not get a special weapon like Shem
.

Lamech looked at Betenos
. She reached behind her to pull out the special bow that she had used to kill giants, mushussu, and human wolves so many years ago.

Lamech held the bow. “Japheth, to you we bequeath your grandmother’s special giant killing bow. The same goes for you as for your brother. You will not play with it until your father allows us to teach you how to use it. Do you understand?”

“Yes!” shouted Japheth with joy.

B
oth boys gave their grandparents hugs and kisses that Lamech and Betenos would treasure for the rest of their lives.

 

Methuselah’s eyes popped open. The tip of a dagger pressed against his throat.


You are slowing down, Grandfather, getting dull,” said Noah. “I respect your wisdom, but what of your strength?”


You are already dead,” Methuselah replied. Noah felt a sharp point prick his belly. He looked to see Methuselah’s dagger sticking in his abdomen. “Or at least without
your
strongest member.”

Noah pulled back
, chuckling.

Methuselah
sat up. “And I can still handle a battle axe, young buck,” he said. “I just need a nap now and then. You will understand in a couple hundred years. If you survive that long.” He made no mention of his accuracy with a javelin in his younger years.

Noah loved his grandfather and cherished his advice on everything in life. He also appreciated Methuselah’s dry wit.
He might be the oldest man alive, but he was also one feisty poet warrior. He never let Noah get lazy in thought or deed, because, as he always said with annoying redundancy, “Elohim’s Chosen Seed needs to grow.”

Noah sat back with a sigh. “I had a vision.”

Methuselah came alert. “The heavenly temple on the waters?”

Noah looked surprised. “How did you know?”

“Because I had the same vision.”

“Did you see the building plans?” Noah asked.

“No. Building plans for what?”


Tebah
. A large box. Huge. Like a fortress or warehouse.” Noah scribbled out in the sand from memory a phrase he had never read before the dream. “What does this mark mean?”

Methuselah said, “Covered in and out with pitch.”

“What is pitch?” said Noah.

“Maybe it will be revealed. How large is this box?” Methuselah
asked.

“Three hundred cubits long, fifty cubits breadth, thirty cubits high. Several floors.”

“Have you told your father?” asked Methuselah.

“Not yet. I think
he is with the boys,” said Noah.

Methuselah pondered.

Then he spoke with the certainty of a sage. “You must build this box—this warehouse.”

“Me? Why?” Noah complained.

“Elohim gave me a similar dream. But he did not show me his plans as he did you.”

“Why
will not Elohim just speak clearly to me?” complained Noah. “Is that too much to ask? How do I know that he has not gotten our dreams mixed up?”

“Elohim does not make mistakes,” said Methuselah. “
You
must build the box.”

“It would take the entire tribe years to build such a structure,” protested Noah. “It does not make sense.”

Methuselah chuckled. “Well, then, we had better get chopping.”

Noah drew back annoyed. “It was only a dream
!”

“Sometimes that is how Elohim speaks to hardheaded men.” Methuselah
returned. He thought of himself and how Elohim had hammered his own hard head so many years ago.

Noah rolled his eyes
. Methuselah continued, “I remind you of my father Enoch’s revelation.”

Noah
could not keep disdain from his voice. “Oh, you have much reminded me of great-grandfather’s delirious revelations.”

“I also remind you,” said Methuselah, “that Enoch walked with Elohim—and was taken by him, never to die. Is that delirious?”

Noah could not argue with that. As much as he thought his great-grandfather had sounded a little too holy for his taste, he could not deny that he walked with Elohim. He remembered that the Sons of God first came down from heaven in the days of Jared, Enoch’s father and Noah’s great-great-grandfather. That was when Enoch began having his dream-visions. Enoch had foretold all this. But Noah found it difficult to accept that Elohim would want everyone to be so heavenly minded when there was work to be done on terra firma
.

Noah’s father Lamech and Methuselah told him very little from the earlier years when Enoch had ascended into heaven before he was born. They would only reveal bits and pieces as he grew up, but never the whole story of their experiences in the Titanomachy.

“I do not know what happened to Enoch. But I do know that I want to live a life in peace, away from this wicked world. If we move, we are left alone and avoid trespass. If we put down roots and build this structure, we become a sitting target for the gods to conquer and rule us.”

Methuselah looked
straight into Noah’s eyes. “Noah, do you really think you can avoid evil?”

“I have no choice. Avoid it or we all die.”

Methuselah paused to consider his next move. He was cornering Noah and they both knew it. “Do you really think you can avoid Elohim?”

Noah would not respond.

Methuselah pressed harder. “We must tell the elders of this dream.”

“No!” Noah blurted.

BOOK: Noah Primeval (Chronicles of the Nephilim)
2.39Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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