People of the Flood (Ark Chronicles 2) (13 page)

4.

Kush and Nimrod purified themselves at the secret fane. Kush handled a green-leafed oaken branch, waving it over a fire of green sticks, washing himself with smoke. He was grim, silent, deeply worried. He had taken an awful step. It made his stomach clench and set his teeth on edge. For weeks, he had considered it. The spirits… they imparted wisdom, and they spoke about influences, the stars and ways to clear the path for the grand design. He had finally committed himself, and his conscience howled that he was a fool, a dupe, a plaything for powers whose goals he couldn’t conceive.

He spoke now to Nimrod about driving for Ham on the coming expedition.

“You should have refused,” Kush said.

“
Why?” asked Nimrod.

“
Because it doesn’t make sense,” Kush said.

“
Isn’t it an honor?”

“
So Rahab would have you believe.”

“
What does grandmother have to do with this?”

“
Your mother is convinced this is Rahab’s doing. The Dark One knows it isn’t Ham’s way.” At eighty-five, Kush was powerful, big and strong, with a woolly, white beard that oddly matched his dour features.

“
I’ll back out,” Nimrod said. “Tell them I’ve changed my mind.”

Kush shook his head, becoming even gloomier, if that was possible
. His boy unsettled him, a quick lad, bright and tough, and not given to the same obedience as his other children. This one had sat too often alone with Deborah, drinking from her deep lore. Kush set down his branch, and in his silent, oxen-like stare, regarded Nimrod. “Take heed, my son, for you will stumble upon a dragon.”

“
What? Where?” Nimrod asked.

“
In a valley deep in the forest.”

“
Did you have another vision?”

“
Some of you will die. One of those must be Beor.”

Nimrod seemed astonished
. “You’re telling me to murder my cousin? Father, what happens if Uncle Canaan finds you plotted his son’s death?”

“
He must never know.”

Nimrod bowed his head in thought
. “No. I cannot do as you ask.”

“
You must. For Beor is like a bulwark. He honors Ham, and in any situation involving leadership, he will back the patriarch. Too many also heed Beor; too many find his strength, his character and his adherence to the old ways pervasive. Clearly, Beor follows the teachings of Noah. Beor has been swayed by those superstitions. Beor—”

“
Superstitions?” Nimrod asked. “Are you saying the Flood never happened?”

Kush grew somber, staring at his son
. “You sleep with Beor’s wife.”

“
That’s a lie! Who told you that?”

“
Your mother.”

“
Then she’s a liar.”

Kush struck his son across the cheek.

Nimrod’s eyes blazed like a leopard’s might.

“
Respect your parents, boy, your mother most of all.”

“
But murder my cousins at your command?”

“
By Bel!” hissed Kush, raising a fist. “I can still teach a whelp like you to obey.”

“
Who is Bel?” Nimrod asked, undaunted. “Is he one of your inhuman masters?”

Kush glowered
. Those he worshipped… inhuman… Nimrod had called them that before. His boy loved neither Jehovah nor the angels, but seemed to hate both. Strange. He wished Deborah had been given the task of convincing their son. He wasn’t good at arguments, but he knew his duty. So he controlled his passion, his desire to beat some respect into his boy, and he repeated lines spoken to him. “No one is asking you to murder. Murder is when you slay an unsuspecting friend for no good reason. But when the dragon slays a person… even if it does it for you, that isn’t murder.”

“
You think I’ll do your dirty work for you so I can have Beor’s wife, is that it?”

“
Beor stands in the way of us going to Shinar.”

Nimrod
’s astonishment grew. “I’ll lift no dagger against a cousin. I won’t stoop to assassination.”

Kush said nothing more
.
They
had told him he wouldn’t have to.

5.

Later that week, and still troubled, Nimrod kicked three stones together, leaving them in a line. It was their signal. An hour before sunset, he hid outside the settlement, behind a man-sized clump of weeds. Hooded and cloaked in brown, Semiramis sauntered up the trail. Nimrod glanced both ways before following her down a hidden path. He was surprised and yanked to the stony ground by Semiramis, who smothered him with kisses and tore at his tunic.

They made love under the leaves
. Later, he told her his father’s words.

“
How does he know you’ll run into a dragon?” Semiramis was stunningly beautiful: dark hair, gem-like eyes and skin like milk.

More than once
, he had almost told her about the fane and about sacrifices to loathsome spirits. They had never shown themselves to him, and he fiercely distrusted them.

They lay together; he perched on his elbow and staring down at her.

She took his fingers and kissed them. “Your father can’t know about a dragon.”

“
Well, he claims he does.”

She studied him
. “And?”

“
And what?”

“
Darling, I know your father told you more.”

One of the things he loved about Semiramis was that he didn
’t have to explain to her. She was clever. He loathed dullards. He traced a finger across her belly, saying, “Beor is to have a fatal accident.”

Semiramis stared at him slack-jawed before sitting up
. “Oh, don’t joke with me, beloved. Not about that.”

“
It isn’t my wish, mind you. I’m told it’s for the good of the clan.”

She kissed him on the cheeks, eyelids, nose and lips
. “Oh Nimrod, Nimrod, my prayers have been answered.” Then she frowned, studying him. “Why so dour, my love?”

He shrugged.

“Oh, Nimrod, please say you’re not turning queasy. You truly want me, don’t you?”

“
Don’t I risk everything just meeting you here?”

“
Ah, but that’s merely lust. The question is: Do you love me?”

He smiled
. He had never said the words, much as she tried to get him to. He avoided it like a curse. Perhaps it would be.

“
If you love me,” she said, “you must seize this opportunity. Slay Beor.”

Nimrod
said nothing.

“
You must do this for me,” she said, rolling onto him, pushing him onto the dirt. “You must free me from a cruel master. You must make me yours.”

6.

Days later, the Scouts and Ham in his clumsy, four-wheeled chariot left the village. They threaded into the first valley and up the next range of wooded hills. Ham pointed out a flock of black storks, beautiful creatures while airborne. Later, they descended into a valley filled with the frog-like calls of little bittern, small birds. It rained on and off, and Ham’s aches made him yearn to drink.

Beor led and Nimrod drove his huge cousin to distraction with belittling jokes
. The others shot Nimrod warning glances. Nimrod was athletic and tough, but Beor was like a great sloth as compared to a panther.

In the third valley, Ham let loose
. He drank far too much wine. He woke the next day sore and grumpy.

Willow, ash and elm trees towered around him, creating a leafy wall in every direction
. Moldering leaves clung to the soil, and a sea of fungi and mushrooms added to the murk of the forest underworld. This valley lowland was unlike the cleared plateau where the tribe had settled. There, the fresh air invigorated. Buried in this fetid half-swamp, the air seemed lifeless, an almost sticky substance that probably hadn’t moved since arriving after the Flood.

Ham squinted past the branches, trying to fix the sun
’s position. It seemed like it was somewhere in the middle of the morning. He uncorked a wineskin with his teeth and guzzled. The gluey clot that was his mind seemed to dissolve. Then the skin ran dry. Ham scowled, forcing out a few more drops. Finally, he struggled up and stumbled toward the sound of arguing.

In a small clearing around a campfire, nineteen-year-old Nimrod pitched a dead deer onto the ground near Beor
’s feet. “Do want to hear my news or not?” he was saying.

Beor stroked his beard, studying Nimrod
. “What news?” The other Scouts stood around them. They were bearded, dressed in leathers and bore knives, bows and javelins. The smallest of them had a ghastly scar across his forehead.

“
You’re the killer of the great sloth, right?” Nimrod asked.

Beor made no reply.

“Well, I just saw a beast that makes your great sloth look like a mouse. Now, I don’t know about the rest of you, but I think slaying this beast would make a legend out of us.”

“
I say what we do or don’t kill,” Beor rumbled.

“
Of course,” Nimrod said. “And I won’t call any man a coward who’s afraid to tackle it.”

“
Who are you calling a coward?” forty-year-old Geba asked, a lean man with vulpine features.

“
Have you ever seen a dragon?” Nimrod asked.

The Scouts blanched.

“You can’t kill a dragon,” Geba said, who pointed to his brother Eel, the small man with the terrible scar across his forehead. “A lion scratched him that beauty mark. Now consider that dragons eat lions as snacks.”

“
Isn’t part of our task to protect the wagon train when it passes through here?” Nimrod asked.

Geba laughed
. “If a dragon lives here, boy, we’ll reroute the wagon train to elsewhere.”

Nimrod scanned the rough-looking Scouts, at his cousins two to three times his age
. “I don’t believe it. When I saw the dragon, I thought to myself: Now I know why people fear it. Then I smiled. Alone, Beor faced a great sloth, and we are the Scouts, the trackers of the tribe. Surely with Beor leading us, we will slay this dragon.”

“
Who says you’re a Scout?” Geba asked. “You’re just here to drive grandfather.”

Nimrod
, with his smooth, handsome good looks, lofted his eyebrows, looking from face to face. “Well, well, well. This is ironic. They say Jehovah put the fear of man into the beasts. What I didn’t count on was the fear of beasts in men.”

“
Prudence isn’t fear,” Geba said, speaking in Beor’s direction.

“
No, no, certainly not,” Nimrod said. “And that’s exactly what I’ll tell the maidens when they ask me what happened next.”

“
Where is this dragon?” rumbled Beor.

“
Don’t let a rash youth talk you into this madness,” Geba said. “Ignore him.”

“
You mean you don’t even want to look at it?” Nimrod asked, innocently.

Beor stared at the flames
. “I’ve never seen a dragon.” He grinned at the others. “And if this boy has, then by all that’s holy, so will I. So will all of us.”

7.

Eel and Ham moved through the forest, trying to catch up with the others. Eel moved carefully, soundlessly, placing his feet like a stalking leopard. Ham limped, snapping twigs and occasionally kicking stones.

“
We want to surprise the dragon,” Eel whispered.

A sweaty Ham gripped his grandson
’s shoulder. “I used to be able to tramp for hours, but not anymore.” He eased down onto a lichen-covered rock, beginning to sweat harder.

After a moment
’s hesitation, Eel crouched beside him.

Ham took out a rag and mopped his face
.

Eel glanced at him sidelong, hesitating, finally asking
, “Did you ever see a dragon in the Old World?”

“
What? No, never did.”

Eel frowned thoughtfully
. “What about on the Ark then?”

“
What about it?”

“
Wouldn’t you have had to take a dragon aboard for them to be here now?”

Ham poked his grandson in the ribs
. “Good point. I suppose we would have.”

Eel scrunched his scarred forehead
. “So that means—”

“
—I’ve seen every animal there’s ever been. Yes.”

“
So… how do you kill a dragon?”

Ham shook his head
. “See, there was this wolf once who looked at his shadow as the sun was going down. This wolf had a long shadow, and thought to himself,
Fancy a big fellow like me being afraid of a lion. Why, I must be thirty paces long. I’ll make myself king and rule all the animals
. Then he came across a lion and refused to slink away. So the lion ate him. And the wolf wailed at the end, ‘Conceit has brought about my ruin.’”

Eel pondered that
. “Are you’re saying that Beor and Nimrod are like the wolf?”

“
Yes. Dragon hunting is conceit of the worst sort. I want no part of it.”

“
Is there any possible way to kill them?”

“
Time,” Ham said.

“
What do you mean?”

“
I mean you give it a wide berth and wait until it dies of old age.”

Eel snorted
. “How else?”

“
That’s it.”

“
What about back then? Didn’t anyone have to kill a dragon?”

“
I suppose.”

“
Well?” Eel said after a moment.

Ham grinned
. “Dragon hunters forged a bronze bow and fixed it to a gopher-wood plank. They called it a ballista. It took a man-sized crank to wind the string, and a six-foot bronze javelin was slotted into the groove. Dragon hunters wheeled the ballista to the location and baited a trap.”

“
What kind of bait?”

“
A sheep or cow.”

Eel nodded sagely.

“When the dragon came, they waited until it was almost on them. Only then did they fire. The shooters jumped into nearby chariots and fled like madman.”

“
The dragon didn’t die easily? Is that what you’re saying?”

Ham
’s grin turned nasty.

Eel studied his grandfather
. “We have to tell Beor he’s in danger.”

“
Hurry ahead if you’ve a mind to.”

“
Don’t you care that your grandsons are going to die?”

“
Sonny-boy, as soon as they see the dragon, they’re going to slip away as fast as they can. Maybe Nimrod has delusions, but I don’t think Beor is stupid. Then you and I are going to hoof it back to camp even faster than we’ve tramped out here.”

“
You don’t know Beor,” Eel said after a moment. “Since Old Slow, he thinks he can hunt anything.”

“
I know all about stubborn pride. But I never took Beor for an idiot. Believe me, they’ll run once they see the dragon, and that will be the end of this foolishness.”