People of the Ark (Ark Chronicles 1) Page 6

  He blushed crimson once more.

  “You really shouldn’t sneak up on girls,” she said. “That isn’t nice.”

  “I already told you that I didn’t sneak up on you.”

  “You didn’t hide behind your rock and watch me, knowing that no one else was around?”

  His face seemed to burn even more scarlet.

  She laughed again and clapped her hands. It was the most beautiful laugh he had ever heard.

  “Come closer,” she said. “Let me feel those muscles.”

  He waded toward her until she reached out and touched his biceps.

  “You’re like a tiger.” Her hand moved to his shoulder. “And so broad. Are you a warrior?”

  He grabbed her wrist, pulled her near and kissed her.

  “Oh, I like impulsive,” she said.

  Burning with passion, he kissed her again.

  She laughed, pushing away from him, teasing. “Have you come to steal me?”

  “Yes.”

  Her plucked eyebrows rose in calculation. “How long have you been tracking me?”

  “Ever since I’ve seen you.”

  “Indeed. How long is that?”

  He reached for her. Playfully, she shifted aside.

  “So you were lying about being surprised by me?” she asked.

  “No. I was telling the truth,” Ham said, wading after her.

  Her left eyebrow rose upon seeing the hatchet thrust through his loincloth. “So you are a warrior. But against Ymir you can’t use that.”

  “Ymir?” he asked.

  “My master.”

  “You’re a slave?” he asked, indignant at the idea.

  “I belong to Ymir, although I wear no golden collar. He is a mighty warrior.” She slapped Ham’s pectoral. “But perhaps Ymir is not as mighty as you, eh?”

  Ham’s mind reeled. What he was getting himself into? Looking at her, at her wet clinging dress… passion consumed him.

  “Brave warrior.” She came into his arms.

  “I will make you my wife,” he said shortly.

  “After you’ve defeated Ymir?” she asked.

  “Forget Ymir. Flee your wicked master and come with me.”

  “Where would we go?”

  That brought Ham up short. Where indeed, back to the Ark? What would his father say to Naamah? What would Naamah say about the Ark?

  “Unfortunately,” Naamah said, “as much as I want to go with you, I can’t simply leave Ymir.”

  “Why not?”

  “Are you afraid of him?”

  “No!”

  “Ymir is a strong warrior,” she said.

  “I too am strong.”

  “Yes,” she said, “you are strong.”

  “I am stronger than Ymir.”

  “No, Ham, you’re not that strong.”

  Ham laughed, knowing himself to be stronger than most men.

  “Ymir is a giant,” she said.

  “What?”

  “But surely you knew that. After all, isn’t that why you’ve come? To make a name for yourself.”

  Ham drew back, peering into her strange eyes.

  “Ymir is Nephilim,” she said. “His father is one of the bene elohim.”

  Cold fear stabbed through Ham.

  “Don’t tell me you didn’t know.”

  He licked his lips.

  “Oh, Ham,” she said, touching his cheek. “You mean you really stumbled upon me?”

  He nodded.

  “O you poor little darling,” she said, with more than a touch of mockery. “Ymir will crush you.”

  He swallowed painfully. “Don’t you want to run away with me?”

  “You are very handsome.”

  A wave of relief warmed him.

  “Yet I don’t think you’re as powerful as Ymir,” she said.

  “But… You don’t understand,” he said, desperate.

  “What don’t I understand, my darling?”

  “This… It’s all doomed.”

  “Ymir?”

  “No,” he said, “the world. But if you marry me you’ll live.”

  She giggled. “Ham! That’s silly. You sound like that fool Kedorlaomer spoke about this morning.”

  His eyes widened. “Kedorlaomer?”

  “He is my master’s servant. Ymir sent him ahead to spy out the Ark.” She lowered her voice. “It is a massive ship, built by a madman for his god. Perhaps you’ve seen this ship?”

  Did she mock him?

  “Ham,” she said, touching his cheek again. “You’ve grown pale.”

  He grabbed her wrist. “Listen to me, Naamah, I speak the truth when I say everything is doomed. I-I love you, and I would never lie to you.”

  “Love?” she asked, a sneer twisting her lips. “Ah, Ham, if you only realized how many times men have told me they loved me. Yet every time they looked upon Ymir, they grew afraid and either ran away or my master killed them. Why would you be any different, my darling?”

  Her words shocked him, and he wasn’t certain what to say or think.

  Then a crashing sound came from her side of the forest, and the sounds of armor clanking against a shield.

  “Naamah!”

  Ham stepped back.

  “Naamah, where are you?”

  “I’m here, my lord.” To Ham she said, “It’s too soon for you to face Ymir. And you haven’t even tasted your reward yet, not truly. Swim, my darling, and meet me again tonight.”

  He stared at her.

  “Ymir is jealous about who looks upon me.” She eyed him critically. “He wears armor, my darling, and you just have your toy axe. Sneak away while there is yet time. I won’t tell him about you if you promise to sneak back to me later.”

  “What?”

  “Oh, I like you, Ham, and I want to play with you for awhile. Ymir… I grow bored of him, if you must know the truth. But you…” Her eyes roved over him, making him feel like a cow at auction. “I think we could have fun together.”

  The sound of clinking armor and the tread of the approaching giant reminded Ham of the behemoth this morning. Naamah came to him, kissed him fiercely and then pushed him toward the far shore, his shore. He turned, dove and swam hard, faster the further he went from her. He panted by the time he made it to his riverbank, scrambling, grabbing his clothes, bag and spear, diving into the thick undergrowth.

  “There you are.”

  Ham peeked from behind a bush. Ymir was unbelievably huge. He towered almost twice the height of a man and wore bronze links that reflected the sunlight so brightly it hurt. Silver hair draped to his shoulders and strange eyes, intense, intelligent, alien in an indefinable way, gave the giant a sinister, dangerous air. It was as if a leopard should rise onto its hind legs and walk and act and talk like a man. Ymir seemed unnatural, inhuman or superhuman.

  Fortunately there was a river between them. From upon the far bank the giant studied Naamah.

  “Will you help me up, my lord?” she asked, reaching a slender arm toward him. The giant hesitated, and then he reached down and easily lifted her from the river. He dwarfed her, and he cupped her tiny chin between his fingers. His mouth moved, but he spoke too softly for Ham to hear.

  She shook her head.

  The giant spoke again.

  “Oh no, milord,” she said, loud enough for Ham to hear. “I would never lie to you.”

  Ymir’s strange eyes narrowed as he scanned the far bank. Ham froze in terror. The giant spoke more loudly than before. It was an eerie voice, with an edge, a sardonic mockery, power. “It matters not. Noah interests me. Kedorlaomer assures me this one will not disappoint like the others.”

  “Yes, I think you’re right, milord,” Naamah said.

  The giant peered at Naamah. Then he put a huge hand behind her back, propelling her into the forest and out of sight.

  7.

  Ham guzzled water so it spilled out the side of his mouth and down his sweaty tunic.

  “Slow down,” Methuselah said.

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nbsp; Ham gasped and began drinking again. He had run practically the entire way to the clan compound.

  Methuselah young wife stood behind the patriarch, frowning, twining her fingers. They had locked the door and guided Ham by the elbow to Methuselah’s den.

  Candlelight flickered off richly furnished chairs, cabinets and tables, all carefully carved and chiseled throughout Methuselah’s nine hundred-plus years. He was a master craftsman. A rug of exquisite workmanship carpeted the floor and priceless paintings hung on the walls. There were vases filled with flowers, golden bowls and silver chalices inlaid with gems. Here Methuselah often chatted with important guests.

  Methuselah fairly reeked of riches and more than one of his grandchildren had codified his profound and pithy sayings and animal fables. He too loved Jehovah, believed as Noah did.

  Methuselah also loved his position and that many looked up to him. He did encourage the young men to work for Noah. And if asked privately he would tell you that Jehovah planned on destroying the world through flood. Unfortunately, he disliked people laughing at him. Mockery grated on his sensibilities. He had explained to Noah that he helped him better from a position of power, that this way he kept his children from their worst depredations.

  Noah had once confided to Ham, Shem and Japheth that Methuselah’s father had prophesied that “it would come when Methuselah died.” The “it” was the flood. Noah said he found it interesting that Methuselah had now outlived any man in history. It was proof indeed of Jehovah’s longsuffering.

  “Here,” Methuselah said.

  Ham wiped his chin with a towel.

  Methuselah frowned as he set aside the jug. “You can’t stay long. The others want to beat you, now that they know you never checked the rope.”

  “I appreciate your help, Great-Grandfather.”

  Methuselah glanced at his wife. He was a good-looking man at over nine hundred and sixty. He had a long, lean, leathery face, although not as wrinkled as some. His beard was still mostly dark and his blue eyes were clear and serene.”

  “I saw a giant! He is called Ymir.” Ham said.

  “Your mother told us you ran away,” Methuselah said.

  Ham lowered his gaze.

  “Hmm.” Methuselah glanced at his wife. She picked up the water jug and retreated from the room. Methuselah brooded, finally patting Ham on the knee. “Go home. Finish the Ark and survive the coming deluge.”

  “What?” Ham said. “You believe Jehovah will destroy the world?”

  “Of course,” Methuselah said.

  “So why don’t you speak out more?”

  Methuselah drew a deep breath, held it and shook his head. “Why come here, Ham? You must have known it was risky after allowing Jubal to be killed.”

  “I saw a giant.”

  “Everyone does now and again.”

  “This one is going to the Ark.”

  “Hmm. Yes, unusual. Their kind…” Methuselah fixed his gaze on Ham. “How did you come to learn a giant’s plans?”

  Ham gushed out his tale, as if by the first word the rest spilled out in a torrent. He lingered on Naamah and that he had to win her.

  “The giant is obviously of the Nephilim,” Methuselah said. “Do you understand what that means?”

  “That one of the bene elohim is his father?”

  Methuselah rose abruptly and began to pace. He opened a cabinet and poured from a crystal pitcher.

  “Wine?” asked the ancient patriarch.

  Ham shook his head.

  Methuselah peered at the goblet, sipped from it and then resumed his seat. “You’ve heard the story of Adam and Eve and how Satan tricked them into sinning.”

  Everyone in the family knew the tale. In the Garden of Eden Satan had tempted Eve with the fruit from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. When Jehovah had first placed Adam in the garden He had told Adam that he could eat of all the fruit but from that single tree. Yet Eve had heeded the tempter’s half-truths and eaten the fruit, and she had taken some to Adam and he did also eat. They chose to disobey Jehovah, and they gained the knowledge of good and evil. The price was sin that leads to death, and each then received a particular curse—the devil, the man and the woman. Humanity was driven from Eden lest any eat from the Tree of Life and live forever in the wretched state of sin.

  “Satan won that day,” Methuselah said, “but he lost, too.”

  “Do you mean the curse?” Ham asked.

  “Yes, Jehovah cursed Satan.” Methuselah quoted: “Cursed are you above all the livestock and all the wild animals! You will crawl on your belly and you will eat dust all the days of your life. And I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers; he will crush your head and you will strike his heel.”

  Methuselah sipped wine. “Satan entered the world’s first snake, using it as a disguise. It was said to be the most beautiful creature in the garden. Today snakes crawl on their bellies, eating dust all the days of their life. Thus, the first part of the curse has been fulfilled. Yet Jehovah seldom does all at one stroke. So we have the second part. Enmity to begin with and a final crushing of Satan’s head. We know that Satan shall hurt the One we have come to call the Redeemer—shall strike His heel. For this One, this son of woman will restore all that Adam lost us in the garden.”

  “That’s why Satan tempted Cain to kill his brother Abel,” Ham said.

  Methuselah nodded. “So we believe. For when would this Redeemer come? Eve thought her firstborn son might be him. Apparently so did Satan. And perhaps the evil one thought he had won at one stroke, disqualifying Cain and causing Abel’s death. We know now that it wasn’t so. That Satan hadn’t nullified the curse. Jehovah moves unruffled as He unveils His master plan piece by subtle piece.”

  Methuselah studied a painting. “Now the question is: What is Satan?”

  “An angel?”

  “True. Jehovah created the angels and they reside with Him in heaven. They are mighty beings, and they have powers we cannot begin to understand. Imagine, serving Jehovah in heaven, dwelling with Him in sinless perfection. Jehovah set the angels in spiritual realms and there they must stay. Yet…Satan rebelled. It is said a third of the angels rebelled with him. So he and his host were cast out of heaven. Now they are the princes and powers of the air, our secret enemies, only held in check by Jehovah Himself. But they were not satisfied with causing humanity to lose paradise. No! Satan hates Jehovah. He defies Him. Satan will thwart the Creator if he can.”

  “Do you mean thwart the curse?” Ham asked.

  “If he is to survive, Satan must somehow derail the curse. Consider: ‘He will crush your head.’ The ‘He’ is the Redeemer. ‘Crush your head,’ means defeat or perhaps death of some sort. But if Satan can nullify the curse then his head will not be crushed and he will survive.”

  “How could he do that?” Ham asked.

  A terrible smile stretched Methuselah’s lips. “Satan is cunning. He knows how to use lust and pride to accomplish his goals. My father Enoch… my father saw with his prophetic sight.”

  Methuselah picked up his goblet, swirling the wine. With a flick of his wrist, he gulped the contents. “Sons of Jehovah are a name for those the Creator made directly. You and I, Ham, are born. The angels are sons of Jehovah, good and bad they are bene elohim, because Jehovah made each. Satan the deceiver pointed out to some of his brethren the beauty of mortal women. Oh, their fine, long hair, their pleasing shapes and to intimately know them… Certain apostate bene elohim, from the realm above, watched these women and burned with lust for them. As the generations of men become more wicked, they, too, sought for hidden things. Then a sinful, evil act took place, communication between—the bene elohim are now demons, Ham, evil, unclean spirits. They are demons doomed for hell. And certain of them, led by a fiendish prince named Azel, left their realm and possessed the bodies of men. They lay with any woman they chose, beautiful, wicked women hardened to evil and given over to a reprobate mind. The children, dreadful c
hildren, the giants, are fell warriors who excel in butchery and mastery over others. They are able to commune with demons easily and naturally. This is what the giants are.”

  Methuselah paused. “Yet what was Satan’s goal in this perversion of the angelic and mortal realms? Can you guess?”

  Ham shook his head.

  “Satan is cunning and crafty. He would nullify the curse if he could, but preferably without directly risking himself. What if he could pervert the entire human race? What if he could produce a race of monsters? Could a holy one, the Redeemer, come from such a people? No! Never! So the evil one’s goal is to corrupt the entire world. That is why the bene elohim mate with women and why giants, the Nephilim, stalk the Earth. That is why you must beware this beautiful woman.”

  “Why?”

  “If she consorts with giants, is a giant’s woman, then she must be wicked, have been hardened into a reprobate.”

  “No!” cried Ham. “She… she’s beautiful!”

  Methuselah drummed his fingers on the table. “A hen found some serpent’s eggs, which she hatched by sitting on and keeping them warm. A swallow that watched her said: ‘You fool, why do you rear creatures that, once they grow up, will make you the first victim of their evil doing?’“

  “The woman I found is at least as old as me,” Ham said. “I have no intention of rearing her.”

  Methuselah shook his head. “The point is that the kindest treatment cannot change a savage nature. If you’re not careful, this woman will lead you to your death.”

  Ham sat transfixed. “But… what about Noah and the Ark?”

  “Jehovah will protect it.”

  Ham slapped the table. “That’s easy for you to say. What about us who have to face the giant?”

  Methuselah looked troubled.

  “Let me talk to the others outside,” Ham said. “Let me convince them to come to our aid. After all, even though they’re angry we’re still related.”

  “They’re enraged with you, now that they know you refused to check the rope. Some are saying you should be hanged because of it.”

  Ham rubbed his throat. He felt awful for causing Jubal’s death, but he didn’t think he deserved to hang. Or at least he did not want to. “What should I do?”