Wayward Son (11 page)

So it was that Cain traveled, alone, for decades, growing ever more capable yet isolated. Until the day he found himself in a sunny valley, following the course of a stream that was rich with fish. That was when, at the confluence of the stream with a broad river, he heard something that lit a fire of longing inside him.

It was the sound of human voices.

Around the next bend, the rooftops of a great city hove into view. As he would soon learn, Cain had arrived in
the Land of Nod
.

CHAPTER 9

The Land of Nod

CAIN SPENT HIS FIRST few months in the city at the house of a grain merchant named Omak. Since he had no money, he offered his services as a laborer, helping his host build a new storage barn. Thankfully, Omak didn’t seem to care about his guest’s past. Cain had no need to use the fable of kidnapping, slavery, and escape that he had concocted just in case. He saw no reason, however, not to use his real name.

Omak seemed to enjoy his new acquaintance’s company. Perhaps he was lonely, Cain thought. The merchant had been married, but his spouse had died many years before. All the children, now grown up, lived on their own and seldom visited their father. Indeed, the social structure of Nod, for all its technological advancement, seemed to lack cohesion. People went where they liked and did as they pleased. There appeared to be no civil government of any sort.

One morning Omak suggested that they put the building work on hold and walk the city and its environs. Cain accepted eagerly. He had already seen and learned enough to know that he would make this city his home.

The two set out toward the great edifice at the city’s center. On the way, Omak explained that the imposing structure had formerly served as a royal palace. Now, after the bloody revolution that had toppled the monarchy of Nod, the circular hall balanced on the flattened apex of the pyramid-shaped building functioned as a temple.

“What gods do the people worship here?” Cain inquired.

“No one really worships gods,” Omak replied. “There are idols of gold and silver in the temple. But no one pays them much attention. People do anything that comes into their heads. The only god anyone takes seriously is Lorac.”

“Lorac?”

“He rules the weather. Or so people think. And the weather makes the difference between good crops and bad.”

When they reached the entrance, Omak encouraged Cain to climb the interior ramp that led to the temple. He himself would remain below, he said.

“I am afraid I am nowhere near as spry as you,” Omak said. “I will wait for you here.”

Curious to see what the idols looked like, Cain briskly ascended the ramp. At the top, he found himself in a ring-shaped corridor lined with gleaming statues. Some were clearly male or female; others seemed androgynous. The hall was protected from the elements by the translucent substance that Omak had referred to as “glass.” The glass wall afforded spectacular views of the city in every direction.

Cain walked slowly around the hall twice—first to inspect the statues, and again facing outward, to appraise the city. What a vast place Nod was! He guessed that the population must be at least one hundred thousand—maybe closer to a quarter of a million. Beyond the city gates—he counted twenty-one—lay a broad expanse of grain and cotton fields on every side. Farther in the distance were vineyards and orchards. On the horizon to the north and south were snow-capped mountains.

Returning down the ramp, Cain realized he had many questions to ask of Omak. Were there other cities like Nod nearby? If so, did the inhabitants of Nod make war? How had they acquired the knowledge to quarry and build their massive, one-piece stone monuments? What inspired their stadiums? Now that the king was gone, who ruled the city? And what was this thing called a “calendar” that he had overheard people talking about?

But he didn’t want to seem too eager. Omak was a taciturn sort, seldom initiating conversations and usually replying to questions tersely. It would take Cain time to establish the contours of Nod, and to appraise the opportunities.

Meanwhile, if he really was to settle here, there was the issue of a mate. Omak raised the subject several months later.

“People here,” he said one evening, “are live and let live. But if you really want to stay and be accepted, you will have to find a wife. You are of the age to marry. You will not grow younger.”

Cain mulled this over for a moment. Then he replied, “And where would I find a wife, Omak?”

The older man grinned wryly. “Here in Nod, you may take any woman you like. No one will object. But I have a better plan. You will meet my old friend Tutok.”

“Tutok? And who is he?”

“I have told you that no one really rules our land, now that the king is no more. But certain people have more influence than others. And the most influential of these is Tutok.”

“Is he also a merchant?”

“Hardly. He is the head of a large clan. And very rich. Perhaps you could describe him as a priest.”

“I thought no one here paid attention to the gods.”

“You forget, young man, that I said there was an exception. Lorac, the weather god. Tutok speaks to Lorac. And that is why he is rich.”

“What can he do to find me a wife?”

“You will see. It will not be a difficulty,” replied Omak enigmatically.

***

And so Omak and Cain found themselves, several weeks later, within the palatial home of Tutok—as close to an authority figure as anyone in Nod. And it was soon clear why Omak had brought his young, handsome guest. Tutok had three daughters, each of marriageable age but still single.

Tutok, Cain thought, was very much Omak’s opposite, and he wondered how the two had become friends. Whereas Omak was uncommunicative, even dour, Tutok was suave and voluble. He spoke to Cain about his priestly “duties.” He recalled the lightning strike that he had survived when he was a child and how Lorac had saved him.

In response, Cain hinted that he, too, had an interest in speaking with spirits. Not with the master of spirits, Cain thought, but he kept that to himself.

The evening banquet was delightful. Entertainment was provided by Tutok’s nephew, who told lighthearted stories accompanied by drummers and dancers. Platters heaped with delicious meats and fruits were presented by a cadre of handsome servants. As the banquet neared its end, Tutok’s daughters sang for the guests. Cain thought that Ushar, the middle child, had an especially lovely voice.

“Why are these daughters still unmarried?” Cain asked as he and Omak retraced their way in the darkness back to Omak’s house.

“This is Tutok’s great sorrow,” Omak answered. “I have told you before that people here are not religious. But they are superstitious. And envious. Tutok has enemies because of his wealth and reputation. He had no sons, but daughters instead. The soothsayers have foretold that these women will doom the men they marry. No young man in Nod will marry them.”

“How absurd!” Cain blurted out. “Do people here really believe that nonsense?”

“Do not underestimate the average man’s stupidity,” muttered Omak. “The husbands of those girls would be heirs to a fortune.”

***

“Cain, do you sleep?”
questioned the familiar voice.

In the mists of slumber, Cain replied, “Why do you come to me?”

“I come to you because I love and care for you,”
replied the master of spirits.
“It is I who protect you here in the land of Nod.”

“Really? It is Omak who shields me here. What are you in Nod?”

“If only you saw things as they truly are. Who is it that disposes Omak kindly toward you? Do you think he would shield you without my tending?”

“Leave me, spirit!”

“Yes, I will leave you now. But I cannot leave you to die. It is I who keep you alive. You will serve my purpose. Never doubt that you and my purpose are one.”

***

Four months later, Cain and Ushar were united in a marriage ceremony at Tutok’s mansion. The prominence of the bride’s father ensured a large attendance.

As Tutok’s son-in-law, Cain found his reputation in Nod enhanced. He and Ushar moved into a pavilion attached to Tutok’s mansion. Tutok let it be known that Cain assisted him in weekly vision quests with the god Lorac. Six months after the wedding, Ushar became pregnant. Tutok began to speak confidently of a grandson.

Cain had done nothing to deserve his reputation as a shaman, but he did nothing to disclaim it, either. Indeed, feeling as though he had escaped his fate as an outcast and a wanderer, he rather enjoyed his improbable status as a pillar of the establishment. Yet imaginary dialogues with the weather god hardly fulfilled his ambition. His marriage, he felt, was a beginning of a new life, but by no means a final destination.

So it was that he began, with Tutok’s support, to accelerate Nod’s economic vitality. The first venture was corn—a crop that had first been developed by a nearby city. Messengers had brought kernels, and the soil of Nod had received them hospitably. Cain had pointed out the plant’s myriad uses, and Tutok enthusiastically assigned several thousand acres of his estates to the new enterprise. He even offered his son-in-law a large plot of land as a wedding present, but Cain politely demurred.

He could show others how to till the soil, he knew, but he would never be able to do it himself—not since the curse.

The second venture was banking. The inhabitants of Nod had long made loans in kind to their less fortunate fellows in the form of olives, dates, seeds, or animals. But now, upon Cain’s urging, the more wealthy citizens added a premium. Usury in Nod was born, at first amounting to an annual rate of 10 percent, but swiftly climbing to 20 percent and higher.

The third venture was slavery. Nod did indeed have neighbors, and Cain was quick to see that the city’s resources equipped it ideally to dominate the region. Slavery had existed in the city before, but not on the massive scale envisioned by Cain. All it took, he told his compatriots, was a little organization.

While these developments took shape, at home Ushar gave birth to a baby boy at the beginning of the harvest season. In an elaborate ceremony several weeks later, Cain named his son Enoch. He proudly held the boy up for the crowds to see.

“
You
, Enoch, are my harvest,” he proclaimed.

CHAPTER 10

Ercolano: Present Day

AS THE BELLS FROM a nearby
campanile
pealed their summons to the faithful for Sunday mass, Juan Carlos and Silvio shouted Amanda’s name down the crack in the wall through which she had entered. Only echoes came in reply.

“I heard the sound of the bronze doors closing,” said the young Spaniard. “That’s why we have no communication with her.”

“What do you think we should do then, Grandson?”

Juan Carlos checked his watch. “We gave her three hours maximum. It’s now nearly nine o’clock. I say we should call for a government search and rescue team. Maybe one of the rescuers will be small enough to fit in the crack and reach the door. Then they can use a blowtorch to open it. Otherwise, Amanda may run out of breathable oxygen.”

“Let’s not panic. If we are patient, she’ll probably find her way out.”

“But it’ll take some time to get the team here,” Juan Carlos objected. “By the time they go to work, she may be in deep trouble.”

“No, no, don’t worry,” Silvio reassured him. “She’s not going to run out of air. That chamber is vast. Besides, a rescue call will alert the media. You remember why we scheduled this project for a Sunday morning, so as not to attract attention.”

“Yes, but now…” Juan Carlos pressed his case on the older man.

“And besides,” Silvio broke in as he lowered his voice. “There is another concern. The entrance to the crack lies on a site we have full rights to excavate. But according to my calculations, the chamber lies underneath private property. Technically, we are trespassing.”

Juan Carlos thought for a moment. Then he said, “Wait a minute! You said the chamber was vast. How do you know the dimensions?”

With a heavy sigh, Silvio drew a photograph from his jacket pocket. “I want to show you something. Let’s take a walk so we can ensure we’re in private.”

With his arm around his grandson’s shoulders, Silvio ambled casually down the pathway, which paralleled the rock wall through which Amanda had slipped several hours earlier. Then he showed Juan Carlos the picture.

“I found this fresco three years ago. But I never reported or published it. It came from a nearby dig, where possibly another villa lies buried by the ash of Vesuvius. Take a look.”

Juan Carlos examined the colorful image. It was clearly in the style of Roman wall painting of the mid-first century AD. The artist had evidently employed a wide-angle perspective to portray an elderly looking man and a younger woman with long red hair, standing in front of an enormous set of bronze double doors. These portals, incised with inscriptions on the left and images on the right, appeared to be five or six times the height of the human figures. Looming above was a huge dome, and in the distance far beyond was the summit of Mount Vesuvius.

“This chamber is where Amanda is now,” said Silvio. “I think it’s a massive, ancient observatory. Read the inscription at the bottom of the picture.”

Although his Latin was a trifle rusty, Juan Carlos quickly pieced the words together.

TULLIA MADE THIS.

True Friendship Is More Precious Than

The Diamonds In A Heavenly Vault.

“It looks like some sort of offering or tribute,” Juan Carlos said. “You think this Tullia knew the couple shown in the fresco?”

“I am sure of it. The real question is, what did the artist mean by the reference to diamonds? If this structure really was an observatory, it’s quite possible that the architect decorated the interior of the dome with scenes of the night sky, maybe using
real
diamonds for the stars and planets.”