People of the Ark (Ark Chronicles 1) (18 page)

Ikkesh glanced at the dogs
. They watched him. “I appreciate your candor, Noah. But you have assaulted through your son an officer of Arad. That is an act of war. How do you propose to face the might of Arad—unless you are an ally of Queen Naamah?”

“
I am no ally of hers nor will I go to her because of this,” Noah said.

“
Then you must ally with us,” Ikkesh said. “For surely you realize that the Red Blades will… will demand revenge for what your son has done.”

“
No,” Noah said. “You will flee soon, never to return.”

Ikkesh appeared perplexed
. “You said you have no army.”

“
Nor do I.”

“
Then your threats are meaningless.”

“
Ambassador,” Noah said, “why did you come? What is your reason for being here?”

Ikkesh opened his mouth.

“The short answer will do,” Noah said.

“
Sir,” a veteran said. “Shall I summon the rest of the men?”

“
Not yet,” Ikkesh said.

Bera groaned, holding his head
. He was pale and his eyes unfocused.

“
Are you in league with the king of Nod?” Ikkesh asked.

“
With Nod?” asked Noah, surprised. “Why should you think that?”

Ikkesh indicated the menagerie
. “Clearly, you gather animals for Queen Naamah.”

“
What?”

“
As I said, our spies have been to Nod. So it’s no use denying it any longer. Our spies have seen the games there, the wild animals devouring the unlucky and the gladiators butchering each other to the roars of the crowd. We know Queen Naamah must plan likewise in Chemosh. Oh, they have been busy in Chemosh these past years. Naamah has raised marble temples along with plinths, obelisks and giant statues. Sculptors and artisans of rare ability ply their genius at Chemosh. Yet how to entertain the hordes who have flocked there? Because of you we now understand how.”

“
Me?” Noah asked.

Ikkesh gave him a wry look
. “Your menagerie makes it self-evident. And the growing network of beastcatchers even more so. Through this, through what we saw in Nod—for the king there is Naamah’s nephew and surely gave her the idea—we realize that you must be leagued with the queen.”

Noah blinked before he threw back his head and roared with laughter
. It caused the hounds to lift their heads, and it made the veterans bristle.

“
What’s so funny?” asked a crimson-faced Ikkesh.

Noah shook his head
. “No, it isn’t funny really. It’s sad.”

“
Sad?” Ikkesh asked. “Then why do you laugh?”

That sobered Noah, who glanced at Ham
. “They so can’t believe the coming judgment that any wild fancy will take its place. They think we gather the animals for a coliseum, for blood-sports.”

Ham nodded, although he was more concerned about figuring out a way to keep from apologizing.

“Ambassador,” Noah said. “What—”

Bera
’s groan cut him off. The broad-shouldered captain staggered to his feet. “Kill them! Kill them all.”

“
A moment,” Ikkesh said.

Bera pointed at Ham
. “Bring that one to the tents, stripped.”

Ham molded his lips to whistle for more hounds, when from outside the menagerie horns pealed
. Every one listened. The horns blew again, mingling with the throated shouts of warriors on the attack.

“
That’s Laban’s call,” Ham said.

“
Laban?” Bera asked. “Queen Naamah’s champion?”

“
Look,” a veteran shouted. “Fire!”

From the other side of the wooden wall smoke billowed
. The smoke funneled black and oily. From there shrill screams of butchery sounded amid the renewed blasts of horns.

“
The tents,” a different veteran shouted.

“
To arms! To arms!” Bera shouted, shuffling toward the gate. His veterans followed, while Ikkesh went white with fear.

“
What treachery is this?” Ikkesh whispered.

“
Bring the dogs,” ordered Noah.

Ham whistled and ran after his father, who together with Ikkesh moved to the menagerie gate.

They made it in time to witness terrible scenes of slaughter. The silk tents that the Red Blades had pitched earlier outside the menagerie now blazed with crackling flames, with thrown torches atop them. Out of the tents stumbled disheveled, sleepy-eyed warriors, to die screaming as arrows hissed into them. For around the tents wheeled chariots of Chemosh. Archers shot heavy arrows, driven by powerful composite bows. Bera and his veterans glanced at one another and then the captain put on his helmet as he shouted instructions. They drew their dagger-swords or picked up rocks and charged. It was a brave but pitiful gesture. Arrows cut them down until Bera staggered alone with a rock in his hands.

A cunning charioteer swooped from behind and threw a lariat
. The loop dropped over Bera and brutally tightened around his ankles, pitching him to the ground. The warrior leapt from the chariot and pounced upon the captain, hogtying his arms. The warrior—it was Laban—ran back onto the chariot, drew his lance and led another charge.

The Red Blades who had escaped the burning tents and the butchery, together with the pursing charioteers, moved like overgrown mice through the fields.

Ikkesh trembled and with a groan sank to his knees. In his costly silk robe, he crawled to Noah. “Oh save me, save me, don’t let them kill me.”

“
Think, Ikkesh,” Noah said. “Consider what it will be like on the day Jehovah judges the Earth. Then it will be too late for mercy. Then what you see here will be nothing in comparison.”

“
Save me,” wept Ikkesh.

“
Father!”

Laban raced toward them, standing proudly
in his thundering chariot, his lance held to the sky.

The caparisoned stallions neighed terribly, their ostrich plumes waving
. The chariot swung around as the wheels churned dirt, and then the vehicle came to a shuddering halt. Through the Y-slot opening of his helmet, Laban’s eyes blazed.

“
That one is mine!”

Ikkesh trembled anew, his pudgy, beringed hands clinging to Noah
’s knees.

“
He is under my protection,” Noah said.

“
Queen Naamah has charged me to bring him back to Chemosh,” Laban said.

Noah shook his head.

“Consider carefully,” Laban said. “For you may not plot with impunity with Queen Naamah’s enemies.”

“
I do not plot,” Noah said.

Laban laughed
. “I know that. But don’t think that the queen will believe it.”

“
She knows it too,” Noah said.

Laban glanced over his shoulder, and for a while watched the chariots round up the survivors
. “I have no wish to kill you, Uncle. Not this day. So I will station men nearby. The day Ikkesh leaves he will be captured and brought to Chemosh.”

“
Then perhaps I will win my first convert,” Noah said. “Thank you.”

Laban snorted, and with a nod
, he indicated the driver should leave.

As the chariot thundered off, Noah turned to Ikkesh
. “You are welcome to stay as long as you work.”

“
Work?” Ikkesh asked, rising, dusting his purple gown.

“
If you want to eat you must work,” Noah said.

“
But my rank!” protested Ikkesh.

“
Means nothing here,” Noah said. “Claim it and you may walk out there.”

Ikkesh eyed the stumbling Red Blades, with ropes around their throats as they staggered behind the chariots, Bera among them
. “Very well,” he said. “I will work.”

12.

Exhausted after a hard day of labor, Ham soaped his hands at the washbasin outside the house and scrubbed his face. Oh, but that felt good. He ached all over. Four of them had roped a near-berserk mammoth calf right at sunset, hauled and yanked on the ropes, moving it to a stronger pen. He winced as the soap stung the abrasions in his palm.

Gingerly, he dried his hands, glancing at the first stars as they appeared
. If they had this much trouble with a mammoth calf, how in the world were they going to get all the animals aboard the Ark when the day of doom finally came?

Walking through the front door and unlacing his boots, kicking them off and putting them near Rahab
’s dainty shoes, he felt that familiar knot of doubt. The day of doom… Would Jehovah really destroy humanity together with all the animals? The magnitude of what that meant was hard to envision, and did everyone deserve to die?

“
Darling,” Rahab said, smiling as he walked into the kitchen. She kneaded dough, her hands white with flour.

He pecked her on the lips
and glanced about with a frown. “What’s for supper? I don’t smell anything cooking.”

“
Your mother asked us to come over tonight.”

He lifted his eyebrows, sitting at the kitchen table, picking an apple from the fruit plate
. “Do you know why?” he asked, with his mouth full.

Putting the dough into a stone crock and sliding the lid into place, Rahab cleaned her hands and dried them on her apron
. “Your father invited Ikkesh to supper.”

“
He’s been doing that for months now,” Ham said.

“
Yes, but apparently Ikkesh has finally accepted. Ikkesh said he has a grand announcement to make.”

“
The ambassador is coming with us on the Ark?”

“
It seems hard to believe,” agreed Rahab.

“
Impossible is more like it.”

She slapped him on the shoulder
. “Turn around.”

Ham rose with a grunt, turned the chair and draped his arms over the back as he sat down again
. Rahab began to knead his shoulders, working him over as she had done the dough.

He groaned
. “Just a little lower, please.”

Her fingers moved down his back.

“Ahhh, perfect.”

She smiled
. “What a man you are. Muscles everywhere. How could I have ever been so lucky?”

“
I’m the lucky one,” he said.

She leaned onto him, wrapping her arms around his neck and putting her face in his thick hair
. He took hold of one of her small wrists, while his other hand intertwined with her fingers.

“
What happened to your hand?” she asked.

He told her about the mammoth calf and then revealed his doubts about being able to load some of those wilder animals onto the Ark.

“Jehovah will take care of it,” she murmured.

He knew she would say that
. For once, he’d like to hear her voice some doubts. Rahab was a good wife, but sometimes he wondered whether she was too good. It made him feel guilty whenever he tiptoed off by himself to get drunk. No one knew; he was certain about that. It had started with a need to ease the throb of his painful hip and turned into a need to unwind and not worry or think about everything. It wasn’t as if he lived the idyllic life. Queen Naamah and the cruel city of Chemosh lay just over the horizon. Any one of these days an army of giants led by the
bene elohim
in what had once been his cousin Laban would march out here and put an end to all their dreams. Yes, that had been terrible news. Laban had sacrificed his son Ben-Hadad to Azel in the grim temple of Chemosh. Horrible rites had taken place and Laban…Shem called it demon-possession. Not even Nephilim could face Laban now when the fury took hold. His cousin waded through the field of battle like a god.
The Destroyer
was what people were calling him, and it was said that Naamah had given birth to a new Nephilim, one spawned by Laban or the
bene elohim
that dwelled in the fleshy shell of his cousin’s body. The point was that the fallen ones wielded terrible supernatural powers, and Ham had begun to wonder if they might not be, when all combined, at least as strong as Jehovah was and maybe even stronger.

Unfortunately, he couldn
’t tell any of his brothers that. Europa might understand, but certainly not his wife.

“
Ruth says that Arad is marshalling its hosts,” Rahab said.

“
What was that?” he asked, his eyelids drooping. What he’d like was to sink into a tub of hot water and soak for about an hour.

“
Ruth says she overheard Ikkesh whispering to some field hands. He said that Arad was about to avenge the treacherous slaughter of the Red Blades.”

“
He says that all the time.”

“
Ruth says when Ikkesh caught her eavesdropping he got an eerie, frightened look and he glared at her. She thinks something strange is going on.”

“
Uh-huh.”

“
Are you listening?”

“
Of course,” he said, his eyes closing.

“
Ham.” She shook him some time later. “Ham, you have to get ready.”

“
Huh? What?” He raised sleepy eyes.

“
It’s time to get ready. I let you nap a few minutes, but we’ll be late if you don’t change now.”

Blinking,
Ham stumbled into the bedroom and changed into clean clothes. Rahab waited by the door in a cloak, her dark hair spilling out from under her hood. She smiled as he limped near, and she looked so lovely that he dropped his cane and clamped his hands on her shoulders.

“
Are you happy, Rahab?”

“
Ham! Yes. You know I am.”

He kissed her, and arm in arm they stepped outside and strolled toward his parents
’ house. Torches flickered on the posts and a glance showed Ham that the main gate was open. He peered back at it as they headed to the house.

“
Are
you
happy, Ham?”

He didn
’t answer. Because it struck him that none of the hounds prowled about. Usually at least one or two of them nosed him and whined for attention. He stopped.

“
What’s wrong, husband?”

He looked first one way and then the other
. No hounds by the barns, none lying by the well and—the kennel door was ajar!

He twisted his arm free of Rahab
’s and limped for the kennel.

She trotted behind him
. “Is everything all right?”

His frown turned into a scowl
. There was no night watchman. Had Queen Naamah sent assassins into the Keep?

He burst into the kennel and
squinted at the darkness. Usually dogs bayed with delight and scratched at the wooden slats of their pens. He whirled round when Rahab bumped him, grabbing her by the arm so she sucked in her breath.

“
What’s going on, Ham?”

“
Stand there,” he said, pushing her to the side. “Don’t move.”

He tapped the floor with his cane, and in the first pen
, he felt a warm, limp body. With his palm on the hound’s side, he felt its ribs lift. He shook the beast, but it didn’t wake. He crawled to the next pen. That hound also slept.

“
They’re drugged,” he said.

“
I’m scared,” Rahab said.

He was about to tell her to run to the house, but then he realized that he had no idea what was going on
. “Stay behind me and do exactly as I say.”

A single mewl of fear escaped her, but then she was silent, nodding that she understood.

He came out of the kennel with his cane in his fist, just in time to hear the cry coming from the main house.

“
He has mother!” Shem shouted.

“
Stop!” Noah roared. “If you harm her—”

“
Back! Stay back,” thundered Ikkesh.

“
Get into the kennel and stay there,” Ham hissed at his wife.

“
What are you going to do?” Rahab asked.

“
Now,” Ham said.

“
Be careful,” whimpered Rahab. “Don’t—”

“
Hurry, wife.”

Ham ran to his own house
. His hip flared with pain, but in another instant, he couldn’t feel it. Behind him, he heard heavy running. He dropped his cane and sprinted faster than he had at any time since his Ymir-given injury. Crashing through his front door, he spun, reached up and grabbed the spear pegged over the door. Then he darted back outside. By torchlight, he saw five field hands bearing swords running along the side of the longest barn. Another staggered under the load of a small chest cradled in his arms like a baby.

Ham knew that chest
. It was the moneybox Gaea kept under her bed. Fat Ikkesh waddled out of the shadows, with his silky hair tied in a knot. His pin-dot eyes glittered with malice and his pudgy skin shone as if greased. Ikkesh bore an axe, the blade bloody. Behind him followed a lean field hand, a man with skull-like features who had only recently hired on. He carried a woman on his shoulder: his mother, Gaea.

Methuselah
, in a long, flapping robe and with a club in his gnarled hands shouted a feeble war cry as he stumbled from around a barn’s corner. The sword-wielding field hands dodged the ancient patriarch. They kept running for the open gate. The lean man with Ham’s mother on his shoulder laughed as Methuselah swung and missed. It was Ikkesh who paused. The obese guest, the one Noah had saved from butchery and thereafter preached to endlessly, snarled with savage delight at Methuselah.

“
Are you Jehovah’s warrior?” Ikkesh roared.

Methuselah, 969 years of age, stumbled to the attack as he swung his club a second time
. Ikkesh easily evaded the blow, and he chopped with his bloody axe, clipping the ancient patriarch on the side of the head. Methuselah went down. Ikkesh sneered, spat a glob of saliva at him and then hurried after his confederates.

The five swordsmen and the lean kidnapper had all stopped and watched the exchange, although the field hand with the treasure chest concentrated on huffing
along with his prize and stumbling for the gate. Thus, it was he who first saw the wild-eyed avenger, the one running at the knot of swordsmen.

“
For Methuselah!” Ham bellowed, thrusting.

The nearest swordsman turned and went down in one motion
of Ham’s spear. The others, startled, surprised by Ham running in from behind them, hacked inexpertly at the shouting spear-wielder. Ham cunningly deflected a blade with his hardwood shaft, while another man sliced through his cloak but missed cutting skin by a fraction. The others simply slashed air. Then those four surviving swordsmen broke into a sprint for the gate.

Ham let them go as he braced himself
. “Ikkesh, you swine!”

The former ambassador of Arad hefted his bloody axe
. “Come back,” he bellowed at the others.

Ham snarled, but then he turned
. He didn’t have time for Ikkesh, as much as he hated him. Ham sprinted after the lean, skull-featured man who carried his mother. That one glanced over his shoulder and spun about as he clawed at his belt for a dagger. Ham howled with rage, plunging his spear into the man’s belly, driving him back, off his feet. As the kidnapper screamed, Gaea tumbled off his shoulder and crumpled to the ground.

Noah, Shem and Japheth ran out of the shadows, weapons in hand.

Ham wretched his spear free and whirled around as Ikkesh waddled for the open gate. The ambassador hadn’t tried to help his comrade, but had used the diversion to gain ground. Ham roared with fury and—

“
Ham!” Noah shouted, striding to him. His father’s white beard bristled and those bluest of eyes gleamed with wildfire. “Let them go.”

“
What?” Ham asked.

Noah knelt beside Gaea as she groggily opened her eyes.

“She’s going to be all right,” said Shem, who had slid to knees to check his mother.

Relief filled Ham
. Then he shouted, “Methuselah!” He ran to where his Great-Grandfather lay sprawled in the dirt, blood welling from his scalp.

“
Methuselah has fallen!” Ham shouted. He glanced up as the gate swung shut—Japheth closed it—and then Ham forgot all about the treacherous field hands and ignoble Ikkesh. He devoted all his efforts to trying to keep Methuselah alive, remembering that as long as the ancient lived, the world was safe from Jehovah’s wrath.