Authors: Mark Morris
Tags: #Fiction, #Media Tie-In, #Christian, #General, #Classic & Allegory
Tubal-cain stared at him. A long moment passed.
Then, with a gruff bark of a laugh, the huge warrior held out the axe, offering the handle to Ham.
Ham looked up at him, wondering if this was some trick, but Tubal-cain gave a single encouraging nod.
Tentatively Ham reached out and took the weapon.
* * *
“There!” Japheth said quietly, pointing.
Noah saw the dark shapes of the men approaching through the trees.
“Go to your mother,” he said grimly.
For a split second Japheth looked as though he might protest, but then he nodded meekly.
“Yes, Father.”
He hurried away. By the time Tubal-cain and his entourage emerged from the tree line into the clearing, marked here and there by large scattered rocks, Noah was standing, apparently alone, in front of the Ark, waiting for them.
Though the men were battle-hardened and steeped in blood, they gazed up at the Ark with childlike wonder, clearly awestruck by its sheer size and staggered by the ambition and achievement of this single man who stood defiantly before them.
Noah, however, barely registered their reaction. The instant he had clapped eyes on Tubal-cain, and on the reptile skin draped around his shoulders, his face had hardened to stone.
Tubal-cain stared back at Noah without recognition in his eyes. Beside him stood Ham,
gripping the warrior’s axe in two clenched fists, holding it proudly upright even though it was clear from his trembling arms that he found it incredibly heavy. Tubal-cain’s gauntleted hand rested lightly on Ham’s shoulder, a gesture that could be interpreted as fatherly, affectionate… or as that of someone claiming ownership of a new possession.
Ten paces from Noah, Tubal-cain came to a halt. For a moment there was silence as the two men took the measure of one another.
Then, quietly, Noah spoke.
“Ham. Come here.”
Tubal-cain grinned his terrible grin and tightened his hand on Ham’s shoulder.
“Don’t take my best soldier.”
Noah’s voice was cold. “He is nothing of yours.”
Tubal-cain released a derisory huff of laughter.
“Look at his hand on that weapon,” he replied. “I believe he
is
something of mine.”
This time Noah didn’t grace Tubal-cain with a reply. He glared at his son.
“
Ham!
” he barked.
Ham scowled. Regretfully, dragging his feet, and still holding the axe out before him, he moved away from Tubal-cain’s side and toward his father.
“Leave the axe,” Noah said firmly.
Ham paused and looked up at him, an appeal in his eyes. “But he gave it to me.”
Noah’s voice was sharp. “
Do as I tell you!
”
Ham hesitated a moment longer, and then, his features scrunching in anger and humiliation, he threw down the weapon and stomped away, heading toward the ramp of the Ark, refusing to look at his father.
Tubal-cain watched him go with amusement, and then he turned his attention back to Noah.
“When I heard the talk of miracles, I dismissed them. Water from the ground? A great forest from nothing? Nonsense. But when I saw the birds, from everywhere, flying here… I had to come.”
“What do you want?” Noah asked bluntly.
Tubal-cain jerked his head up at the Ark. “I’ve come to see your miracles.”
“They are not
my
miracles.” Noah half-turned away and said dismissively, “There is nothing for you here.”
“Nothing for me?” Tubal-cain roared. “This is
all
mine! This land, this forest, your…” he gestured contemptuously up at the Ark. “What
is
that? A stronghold?” He sneered. “You think you can protect yourself from me in
that
?”
Noah came to a halt, though he was still standing side-on to Tubal-cain, his body half-turned away from him. “It is not protection from you,” he muttered.
“Then what is it?”
Noah looked as if he was contemplating simply walking away without answering the question. But then he said, “An ark. To protect the innocent when the Creator sends his deluge to sweep the
wicked
from the world.”
He stared hard at Tubal-cain as he emphasized the word “wicked.” The man snorted laughter.
“The Creator does not care what happens to this world. Nobody has heard from Him since He marked Cain. We are alone. Orphaned children. Cursed to struggle by the sweat of our brows to survive.” He sneered at Noah. “Damned if I don’t do everything it takes to do just that.”
Noah flinched at the words. It was like a terrible echo from his past. He knew what was coming next. As Tubal-cain spoke the words Noah spoke them with him.
“Damned if I don’t take what I want,” they said together.
Tubal-cain’s eyes narrowed.
“We’ve met before? I would remember…”
“I have never forgotten,” Noah said, still in that same controlled voice. “I am the son of Lamech. As a child I watched as, like a coward, you slaughtered him. An unarmed man. A holy man. And as a man I watched as you raped the world.”
Tubal-cain regarded Noah steadily, thoughtfully. He fingered the snakeskin draped over his shoulders, and smiled.
“You may smile,” Noah said, still allowing no bitterness, no anger to enter his voice. “But know that we have all been judged. Return to your cities of Cain. Wash the blood from your hands if you can. For soon He will wash away all of you.”
“Do you threaten me?” Tubal-cain asked, amused.
“No.”
Tubal-cain’s eyes flickered. It was clear that he was unnerved by Noah’s absolute but understated conviction. A note of irritation entered his voice.
“You talk bravely. All these men at my back, and you stand there alone and defy me.”
To Tubal-cain’s surprise the hint of a smile played across Noah’s features.
“I am not alone.”
All at once, creaking, clattering and rumbling, the huge rocks scattered around the clearing and marking its boundary began to stir. The Watchers,
motionless and perfectly camouflaged until now, unfurled themselves and stood, rising to their full, majestic height. Swiftly and efficiently they moved into position, adopting a battle stance, each of them stretching out their six massive arms. Some of them held huge clubs fashioned from tree trunks and studded with nails, others clutched lumps of tzohar. Glaring down at Tubal-cain’s army, their black eyes glittering, their chests heaving as they breathed, they looked ferocious, magnificent, and terrifying.
Some of the women in Tubal-cain’s party screamed and ran. Even many of his soldiers began to scramble over one another in their efforts to retreat, terror stark on their faces.
Tubal-cain himself, clearly shaken, darted forward and snatched up his axe, though it looked no more effective than a toothpick now.
“His minions,” he barked. “Here with you…” He gestured at the sky with his weapon. “Miracles? A deluge, you claim? Well, perhaps you are right. Perhaps casting us out of Paradise was not enough. Perhaps He returns to finish us off. Well, if He does, I will ride out the storm in that ship of yours.”
Noah’s face was as stone-like as the Watchers that stood behind him. “There is no escape for you and your kind. Your time is done.”
He turned and walked away. As the Watchers slowly and menacingly advanced, forcing Tubal-cain and his men back, the warrior bellowed after Noah’s retreating figure.
“The land is dying. The cities are dead. My people follow me, and more will follow them. I am not afraid of miracles, son of Lamech. If you refuse to take my dozens on that Ark of yours, then I will return with legions!”
W
ork continued on the Ark, the Watchers moving with even greater urgency.
Noah stood in the clearing as the late afternoon sky deepened toward dusk, looking out at the line of trees from which Tubal-cain and his soldiers had emerged. With him were Shem and Og.
Shem looked nervous. He clutched the brush he had been using to seal the wood beams with pitch, holding it as if it were a weapon.
“Will so many men really come?” he asked.
“We will fight them if they do,” Og said stoically.
Noah reached up and patted the Watcher on the shoulder of his lowest arm. “Yes, my friend, but even you will not be able to hold them long.”
He turned with a sigh to look at the Ark. Structurally it was almost complete, though there still were a great number of the finer details to finish. Plus at least half of the outer shell still had to be sealed with pitch.
“We will finish our work as fast as we can,” he said. “It is all that we can do.”
“But what of the animals, Father?” Shem asked anxiously. “When will they come?”
“Before the rains,” Noah said.
It was an unsatisfactory answer, but it was the only one he could give.
* * *
Tubal-cain and his men had retreated, though not very far. Back in the forest, two miles from the clearing, they set up camp. The soldiers hacked down trees with abandon to create a large clearing of their own in which barracks were being raised. Tubal-cain’s royal tent had already been constructed. Although larger than the other tents clustered around it, it was still a shabby and ramshackle affair, the veteran—like its owner—of many a grueling military campaign.
Tubal-cain was fashioning a long steel pike on an anvil outside the tent, bashing it into shape with a hammer. He turned as a soldier emerged from the forest, leading a group of bedraggled-looking refugees.
“Keep them together,” Tubal-cain said. “We will need a place to put them.”
The soldier laughed contemptuously. “We would waste shelter on these useless wretches?”
“They are men,” Tubal-cain said. He grabbed the pike he had been making and walked slowly along the line of refugees, inspecting them. Most of them trembled and looked at the ground as he passed by. He stopped in front of a scrawny young man, grabbed him by the collar and pulled him out of the line.
“You,” he said. “You want to eat?”
The man glanced up, nodding dumbly.
“Then you fight for me. Here.”
Tubal-cain held out the metal pike. The young man hesitated, as if uncertain what to do. With a grunt of annoyance, Tubal-cain swung the weapon into the young man’s head, dropping him to the ground. He strolled down the line until he came to another refugee, this one stocky and dark-haired. Instantly the man stepped forward and took the bloodstained pike. Tubal-cain grabbed him by the hair and shoved him in the direction of the soldier.
“Teach him how to use it,” he said. “Feed only those who are prepared to fight. Arm them. Train them. There is nothing they can’t do. With an army, we can crush those giants.”
All at once he heard a scream. Then cries of alarm. He swung around to see soldiers and refugees alike breaking away from the edge of the clearing where they had been felling trees. They were running in his direction.
Tubal-cain stood his ground, drawing the great double-bladed battle-axe from his belt as people ran past him.
What was happening? Were the giants here? Had they decided to attack? He stepped forward with a snarl to meet whatever was coming.
And then his eyes went wide as two huge sabre-toothed bears came crashing out of the forest.
* * *
Noah and Shem were sitting on rugs on the floor of the Hearth, taking a short break, when they heard it.
They were both grimy with sweat and dirt,
too tired to speak. Noah was wearily raising a cup of herbal tea to his lips when, above the noise of hammering and sawing that echoed around them, they heard what sounded like approaching thunder. Shem looked up at his father in alarm.
“Do the rains come already?”
Noah was frowning, his eyes staring into the middle distance as he concentrated on the approaching tumult. Then a slow smile spread over his face.
“No,” he said. “Listen harder.”
As Shem did so, he realized that the sound was not thunder, as he had thought, but something more… organic. Something alive. As the noise grew louder he was able to pick out individual aspects.
All at once he knew what he was hearing.
“Hoofbeats!” he exclaimed.
“And more besides,” Noah said, scrambling to his feet. Together they hurried along the connecting walkways of the Ark until they reached the huge main entrance. Naameh, Ila, Ham, and Japheth were already on the ramp, huddled midway down, struck with wonder. Noah and Shem ran up to them, but whereas Shem halted and put his arm around Ila’s shoulders, Noah kept running, eager to meet the new arrivals.
Emerging from the tree line on all sides, swarming into the clearing, were thousands of animals. It was an explosion of varied and exotic life, a jostling cornucopia, a glorious display of the myriad wonders of Creation, all moving as one, in perfect harmony, their greater purpose overriding their natural instincts.
Halting at the bottom of the ramp, Noah saw primates and rodents, ungulates and marsupials, carnivores, herbivores, predators, and prey. Rats and pacas and bat-eared foxes scampered through
and around the stomping legs of diprotodons, while wild dogs and great cats rubbed shoulders with gazelles and antelopes. There were vulpavuses and oxen, spiked warthogs and giant white kangaroos. Apes swung from the trees, dropping onto the backs of larger animals when the trees ran out. These transported them across the clearing toward the Ark without hesitation.
The sight was so magnificent, so utterly breathtaking, that Noah threw back his head and laughed. He spread his arms in greeting as the animals converged on the Ark and began to swarm up its entrance ramp. Two huge and regal tigers padded toward him, male and female. They passed him, one on either side, his outstretched fingers gently brushing through their fur. Further up the ramp, Naameh, Ila and the boys, their faces full of trepidation at first, began to smile and then to laugh as the tide of mammals streamed past. The larger ones trod delicately. The great antlered giraffes and the titanotylopuses ducked their heads to enter, even though the vast entranceway was high enough to accommodate them.
Noah turned to his family and his eyes were shining.
“Now we are ready,” he said.