All Living : A Seedvision Saga (9781621473923) (32 page)

Perhaps the most impressive structure in the city towered in front of him, directly behind the fountain from where Kole stood. He stopped and stared. It was a large, red stone building, four levels high, with dun colored columns lining a receiving patio. An enormous entryway gaped between the pillars leading into a vast dark chamber. Kole thought he saw shadows moving around inside but was not certain.

Before he could inspect the building further, he noticed a man kneeling on the ground. Two upright wooden stakes had been hammered into the earth, and a beam was attached across the top of them. To this the man was tied. His arms were outstretched and his head hung limp, hair nearly dragging in the dust. A sheen of sweat glistened on his shirtless torso and a swarm of black flies hovered around him. More than a dozen welts criss-crossed his back, the blood from the wounds dry and caked. The injuries had obviously been allowed to bleed untended, for the hem of his loin cloth was stained pink.
What is this abomination,
thought Kole. Adam had certainly had to discipline the boys from time to time when they were younger, but they were never tied down nor left to rot in the heat of the midday sun. And there had never been blood. Kole wondered if the man was dead. With a tremendous effort of will, Kole tore his eyes away from the body and continued to inspect the building in front of him, the scene permanently etched in his mind.

Three steps led up to side porches where benches lined the outer walls. The columns supported a roof of the same red stone that rose from both ends to form a peak the height of ten men. Kole had never seen anything manmade of such gigantic proportions. It was quite an accomplishment.

As Kole’s eyes traveled up the length of it he had to tip his head back. That was the moment he first noticed the engraving. He had not noticed it before because it was layered with the same fine coating of dust that covered everything, but in the center of the triangular face of the roof that covered the patio, small chips of black stone had been stuck to the surface. A patchwork picture had been shaped from the stones depicting a large human eye with lines radiating out from it. Below the eye was an almost-triangle with its top point missing.

Kole was still staring up at the image, trying to determine some meaning in the mosaic, when he heard a voice addressing him. He lowered his eyes to the shadowy entrance beneath the shelter and observed several men coming down the stairs. The one in front appeared to be in charge but was clearly not Cain. He wore a camel-colored tunic that dragged on the ground behind him and a wide belt that emphasized the broad thickness of his neck and shoulders. He tugged at his long, flowing brown beard with first one hand and then the other, stroking it as if he were milking a goat.

“I am pleased to see you here,” he said, although what he meant seemed to imply just the opposite. He might have said something prior to this greeting, but if so, Kole had no idea what that might have been; he had been too thoroughly engrossed in studying the artwork above the awning.

“I must admit,” the man continued, “you’ve got a lot of guts.” A ripple of mockery behind him, and Kole realized that he was now surrounded by men.
The man on the steps laughed at his own joke. “But perhaps it is not so much your courage as your foolishness that compels you to come here.

“I believe you have met my son, Irad,” said the speaker, gesturing to the man who had been tied up and tortured at the bottom of the stairs. “Although he lacked meat, he came back from his hunt with many fine stories to tell, stories that I would be most curious to hear you tell as well.”

Kole stared at the man until the silence grew uncomfortable. He could hear the shifting of feet in the sand and the clearing of throats from the men behind him. He looked up at the sun and closed his eyes, seeing the orange of its light through his eyelids and feeling the warmth of its rays tanning his face. He pictured the men before him. None were his brother Cain. These men had similar features but also…something more.

They shared the hungry look of men who had not eaten in days. The pinched look of their mouths and strained lines on their brows spoke volumes to Kole. The half-moons bagging the undersides of their eyes revealed several days of sleeplessness. And there was fear. These men were afraid of someone. Kole opened his eyes and pulled the leather veil off his face, the sweet and sour stench of the city seemed as strong as ever.

Kole spoke, his aim to anger the man into revealing where Cain might be hiding. “It intrigues me that you would be more interested in hearing histories from me than in the courtesy of making your own introductions, boy. Are your such a stranger to visitors that you have forgotten your manners?” questioned Kole. “Perhaps you would like to make amends for your lack of civility by inviting me to your home for a meal. Even a cup of water would be an offering that would redeem you in my eyes.”

“Why you belligerent whelp, it is you who have forgotten your place. You are a lone stranger here and surrounded by my sons. With one word I can have you strung up on a pole and carried back to the valley where you stole our meat and shamed my firstborn. There you would be planted in a hole to live out your last few moments of misery watching vultures and hyenas draw lots for the privilege of disemboweling you.”

Kole took a step forward and heard a rumbling from the throats of the men behind him but did not turn around. The group of men surrounding the speaker drew up into a tighter knot, every muscle in their bodies taut with barely concealed bloodlust. Their auras flared a sickly mottled green, and Kole sensed the discordance of the city emanating from them.

Kole gritted each syllable from between clenched teeth. If it was fear that these men responded to then he would give them some. “Before that word even fell from your lower lip I would stamp my foot on the ground and all the buildings in this city would fall down around your ears. The last sound that you would hear would be the terrified screams of your innocent women and children, who even now huddle behind their curtains and hang upon your every word. Spare them your blasphemies.”

To Kole’s astonishment, the man laughed, a wet, phlegm-filled laugh that ended when he hacked up a large glob of mucus and spat it on the steps at his feet. “Who do you think you are, you young pup? God or something?”

“I think you know better than that,” said Kole, “and you would do well to hold your tongue, youngster, if the only good thing that can come from your mouth is your spittle.”

The man’s face turned purple with rage. “Youngster!” he roared. “I’ll have you know that I am the eighth oldest living human being. I am Enoch, and this city is mine.”

“I’m sure your father Cain would be interested to hear you put it that way,” shrugged Kole. “And I’m sorry to have to disappoint you Enoch, but you are the ninth oldest now, for I am Kole, the firstborn, the third eldest, and I have returned.”

Enoch’s jaw dropped in astonishment and the mouths of all the men hung open in wordless wonder. A collective gasp could be heard from behind several of the windows where the women were listening. The crowd on the steps parted and a man pushed his way to the front, shouldering past even Enoch. It was Cain.

“Kole, brother! I thought it was you. But how can this be possible? You look the same as the day I last saw you. I could not believe my own eyes when you walked into the square. I figured Mother and Father had finally spawned a new son in your absence who mirrored your image. But it is you, isn’t it? I can see that now. What strange wonder has preserved you in such a youthful state? I must know.”

Now it was Kole’s turn to find himself at a loss for words. Confronted for the first time by his brother Cain, no words seemed adequate. His brother had changed, that much was certain. His voice was harsh as if he had eaten gravel. He was still tall and muscular, tanned and arrogant to behold. But time had creased his face around the eyes and flecked his beard with gray. He wore a white tunic of supple leather, hand worked with ochre-colored stitching. From the belt around his waist hung a pouch made from the skin of a stoat, the head forming a flap over the opening. In his hand was a well-oiled staff of black wood, tapered at the bottom and a swollen, polished burl at the top resembling an egg. His hair cascaded down over his shoulders and gleamed wetly in the sun. But the most noticeable difference was the dark brown mark upon Cain’s cheek, just under his eye. It was in the shape of a triangle with no top. Kole resisted the urge to look up at the enormous replica of the mark that had been tiled upon the face of the building above them.

So this was the mark that the Creator had stamped upon Cain’s countenance; neither the thumbprint of God nor the first letter of Cain’s name; not some image of a horrific beast to frighten men or a meaningless smudge imbued with power. No. This was a daily reminder to Cain of the moment he committed his greatest folly. Not the murder of his brother, but the murder of his God.

He had built an altar and then sacrificed the closeness that God offered him. Slain the love in his heart for his Creator. Sacrificed love. Cain was indeed a changed man. Time had reshaped him. But the greatest difference in Cain was not what he looked like on the outside but the cold emptiness that gnawed at his insides with brittle fury. Cain hid it well.

“Speak, Brother. What greeting do you bring after so much time apart? There is cause for celebration in the city of Enoch this night. We will send out the hunters and feast on fresh flesh when the sun goes down. We will send out the women to carry clean water from distant springs. We will have the children dance for us and the young maidens sing songs.”

“But, Father…” interrupted Enoch.

“Silence,” snapped Cain, whipping his head around. “Can you not see that your elders are talking?”

Enoch’s face paled, and he mumbled an apology. Kole could see Cain’s jaw muscle
s
clenching and knotting up beneath the thick blackness of his beard and noticed the knuckles of his hand throb in a white-fisted grip around his staff. But Cain kept his voice under control as he turned back toward Kole. His smile did not quite make it to his eyes.

“Do you wish to hug me, brother?” asked Cain, spreading his arms wide.

“Do you wish to be hugged,” asked Kole.

Cain laughed and dropped his arms. “No man who is truly a man wishes to be hugged. Come brother, walk with me. Enoch, see to the preparations.” Cain started to turn but then had another thought, “And if there is any life left in your son, clean him up, and have him on hand.”

Hatred played across the features of Enoch’s face but he turned away and followed orders.

As the other men left, Kole moved around the fountain and approached Cain.

“We need to talk, Cain. It’s long overdue.”

“Ah, my brother Kole, never one to mince words. I can’t say that I’m happy to see you here. You have caused me no end of trouble over the years.”

“Have I?” asked Kole, eyes widening. He didn’t know what Cain might say to him, but he had not expected that.

“Yes, trouble that I had hoped to have left behind, buried in my past.”

“I suspect that if I have caused you trouble, Brother, it was no more than you deserved, and while you were burying your troubled past, you neglected to bury our brother Abel. You left him bleeding in a field, dying in my arms.”

“That’s an old tune, Kole, and not one of my favorites, if you want to know the truth.”

“That would be refreshing.”

“You grieve me, Kole. Is that what you’ve come back to do? Cause me grief? If so, I’d have to say your welcome here will be brief.”

“I’ve come to sort things out, Cain; come to set things right between brothers, if such a thing is still possible.”

“I would not hold your breath, Kole. There is truth and there is reality, and seldom are the two seen holding hands.”

Kole sighed. “I was afraid it might come to this.”

“Fear is not healthy, Brother.”

“You have been busy, Cain. I can see that. This city is more impressive than I imagined it would be. But you have built walls around yourself other than these stones and you have buried your virtue alongside your trouble. The man you were made mistakes, Cain. That’s your truth. But the man you are is making even more. And there’s your reality.”

Cain nodded once. “Is that so?”

“We need to have this out in the open, Brother, once and for all.”

“No, you need to have it out, Kole.”

“I had hoped that we might be able together to put this behind us and to mend our friendship.”

“Why take it off the shelf, Brother, only to put it back again? Leave it alone.”

“That’s not going to happen, Cain.”

“Then I prophesy growing disappointment for you, Kole. I hope you are man enough to shoulder the burden.”

“How did we come to this, Cain?”

“It is you who have come to me. I did not invite you here. This is
my
home. And the public street is no place to conduct your business, Brother,” Cain said with a menacing tone. “I suggest you swallow whatever it is that you are about to say, and perhaps we shall find a more opportune time and place to discuss such matters.”