People of the Ark (Ark Chronicles 1) (20 page)

4.

In the rear of the army,
beside the biggest wagon, King Laban, the queen and their nobles plotted. A captured Ikkesh stood among them. He had supped with Noah. Thus, the former ambassador of Arad surely knew things about Noah the rest of them didn’t. Kedorlaomer urged a swift assault, as did Par Alexander. The Prophet Zohar thought caution was in order. The demon in Laban whispered likewise and so did Ymir.

Then Ikkesh pointed a fat
, shaking finger at the Ark.

Laban, arrayed in splendid robes, looked up and his face turned pale.

The entire army of Chemosh grew faint and horrified—the Slayers for some reason the most of all. A pillar of ominous smoke funneled into existence. It appeared beside the Ark, dark, roiling yet unmoving and filled with a brooding, ominous power. Then the Ark’s ramp
moved
. Without any visible means, the ramp creaked upward. No hand touched it, no pulley system. In some terrifying fashion, it seemed as if the pillar of smoke was the cause.

In Laban
’s chest arose a hideous feeling. It clutched like a heart attack so he couldn’t breathe, so pain lanced everywhere. As the ramp closed, so ended all his chances.

“
What is it, Laban?” the queen asked.

“
No, don’t close,” whimpered Ikkesh. “Please don’t close.”

Laban clawed at his chest, and he wondered if possibly Noah had been right and everyone else wrong.

“Listen to me,” Ymir said in his eerie voice.

The door to the Ark, the ramp, shut with a boom.

Ymir failed to finish his thought. Silence reigned in the army of Chemosh as every eye gazed skyward in sick anticipation.

5.

That night in secret council Laban, Queen Naamah and Ymir discussed the Ark’s fate. They sat in Noah’s barn in Noah’s Keep, a bonfire in the middle of the big structure providing illumination.

“
We should have already attacked,” Ymir said. The Nephilim wore armor and his silver hair hung to his mammoth-wide shoulders. As he sat in a massive, throne-like chair, he laid an axe across his knees. An eye-patch covered his blind eye and his handsome, godlike features had grown thoughtful.

“
You saw what happened,” Naamah said. “Jehovah moves among us. It is dangerous to attack.”

“
All the more reason to do it,” Ymir said. “Today is the day to gain great glory.”

“
As you gained fighting Ham?” she asked.

Ymir
’s features tightened.

“
We must be careful,” Laban said.

“
Bah,” Ymir said. “Charge the Ark and burn it.”

Laban eyed the giant
. “Can you see the forces arrayed above the Ark? The army of Heaven that waits for just such a thing?”

“
Is this your sight, Laban, or does my father speak through you?” Ymir asked.

“
I sense it, if you can’t,” Naamah told her son.

“
Are we to sit here then like mice?” Ymir asked.

“
Not like mice,” Naamah said, looking keenly at Laban.

“
We wait for the right moment,” Laban said. “Even now the forces of the Princes of the Power of the Air marshal against the host of Heaven.”

“
Then we must aid them,” Ymir said.

“
Yes,” Naamah said. “It is time for powerful sorcery.”

Laban nodded
. “We must unleash the floodgates of depravity.”

6.

Rahab climbed onto the walkway. She saw Europa peering out the crack of one of the many cubit-wide windows. A slat on a swivel dowel filled each window. The opening or closing of the flat-board determined how much air entered and left the Ark. It seemed to Rahab as if Europa trembled. Then Europa, the tall beauty, wiped a tear from her eye.

Rahab wanted to head back down, but Europa saw her.

“What’s happening?” Rahab asked.

Europa stepped back from the window, snapping the shutter closed, and with her hand on the railing
, she shuffled to Rahab. The whitest-skinned among them, Europa had turned pale, almost bloodless.

Rahab feared she might faint.

The wife of Japheth had obviously been crying. Her eyes were red and puffy. “No children for us, Rahab. We have no kingdoms to bequeath to sons or daughters. Doom. The end of everything is here—or the end of us. One way or another our lives have become futility.”

It had been two days since they had entered the Ark
. This was the first break for any of them from constant work.

“
We must have faith,” Rahab said, even as weariness caused her eyes to feel permanently scratchy. She wanted to curl up asleep for days, but like the others was too wound up to do so.

Europa smiled sadly
. “Faith? Ah, yes. That grand belief that Jehovah has everything under control. But do you know what’s funny? If there is a flood and the world is destroyed, than human life is doomed. And do you know why?”

Rahab shook her head.

“Isn’t it obvious? You, Ruth and I are barren. No children form in our wombs. That leaves only Gaea, only the wife of Noah to repopulate a world.”

“
Maybe after the flood Jehovah will open our wombs,” Rahab said.

“
Or, then again, maybe not,” Europa said.

“
Why would Jehovah save us only to have humanity die out?”

“
Oh, Rahab, that is a wise question. It is one I have asked myself many nights.” Europa sighed wearily. “I shall never be a queen. I shall never bounce baby princes and princesses on my knee.”

“
You mustn’t lose heart,” said Rahab, even as she wanted to sit down and cry.

“
Why mustn’t I?”

“
Because no one knows what the future will bring.”

Europa put a warm hand on Rahab
’s cheek. “You’re so brave.”

“
It isn’t that.”

“
Oh?”

“
I’ve seen Jehovah change my life. And if He’s done so once, why not again?”

Europa pursed her lips
. Then she put a hand on her smooth belly. Finally, she gazed at the long row of windows. “If nothing else, we will die well. That much we can still achieve.”

Rahab wondered if she would ever understand Europa
. This wasn’t doom, but a new beginning. The trouble was, she didn’t know how to convince Europa. She had enough difficulty just convincing herself.

7.

Ham panted in a narrow passageway, his hands clamped over his ears. For five days he had heard nothing but barks, neighs, yowls, whickers, caterwauls, roars, trumpets, whining, mooing, bleating, yelping, growls, snarls, chirping, tweeting, honking and screaming. The Ark reverberated with frightened animals, with beasts in tiny cages and large pens and bins and glass jars—that for the mice.

Clenching his teeth, knowing he had to get busy,
Ham forced himself down the murky passageway. He hefted a sack of salted herring, moved to the pens and pitched fish to the cramped lions, bears, wolves and hyenas. This was survival, pure and simple. Depending on how long the Flood lasted—provided it happened—these animals were going to be weak from prolonged inactivity. But they would be alive, and after a few days of exercise would probably be all right again. The tight confines didn’t allow them space to bruise themselves as the ship rocked back and forth—again, if they ever got started. Already the narrow pens kept them quieter than otherwise, and the gloom helped. But it was still too loud when they all cried together.

“
Five days,” muttered Ham.

For five long days
, nothing had happened. Oh, Jehovah had closed the door. And then they had penned all the creatures. Once done, they had tested their routine for feeding and watering the animals and found they could do it, the eight of them. It left them little time to themselves, to think and to ruminate; but perhaps that was just as well.

Ham folded the emptied sack and tucked it in a wooden bin
. Later he would take the sacks to the worm room. Fibrous, the sacks would be flattened onto slats and manure shoveled over them. Worms would be added. The worms would breed like wildfire and would be used as live fodder. The worms would also break down the manure.

H
am checked the water bins and tested the wooden slats, and barely snatched his hand away from a hyena that snapped at his fingers. They stared eye to eye, the beast yipping its high-pitched cry. “Get used to this, beast,” Ham growled. Behind him, the lion roared, and the bears bawled.

H
am hurried down the corridor and opened another door into a storage room filled with oats sacks. He glanced both ways. And he hesitated, rubbing his forehead. He needed to relax, to ease up. His wife was worried enough about him. This would simply make things easier on everyone.

Jehovah
had apparently told Noah it would be seven days before the rains came. But that seemed too pat. For five days, they’d been here, in dark, cramped corridors, in a ship choked with beasts. It oppressed him, made it seem as if he were buried alive. All he did was scurry here, feed, water and inspect the animals and rush there to do it all over again. All the while the army of Chemosh camped outside, their debauchery worsening. Were the others waiting for a sign? Ham’s stomach turned queasy just thinking about it.

He raised a shaking hand
. Why couldn’t he have faith like his father? Why couldn’t he believe the way Shem, Japheth and his mother Gaea did, the way his own wife believed? Why was he the one to think up all the possible ways it might not work?

Glancing both ways, he darted into the storage room and shifted sacks
. He soon lifted a leathery jug. He uncorked it and took a swig. Ahhh…beautiful. It warmed his belly and numbed his brain, but not enough so he couldn’t work. That wouldn’t be wise. Yet it tasted so good and it made the animal noises bearable. So he swigged again. Leaning against the doorframe, closing his eyes he felt the tension ooze out of him.

“
Ham,” whispered his wife.

H
am lowered the jug. Had she been tiptoeing? The sneak. Oh, why hadn’t he taken a quick nip and gone back to work?

“
Ham, how could you?”

His mouth turned dry
. He couldn’t think. So he took another swig.

Her hand flew to her mouth as she shook her head.

“It isn’t what you think,” he said.

“
You…you.”

“
Come now, wife,” he said, reaching for her.

Rahab stared at the hand wrapped around her arm
. Limply, she allowed herself pulled closer. “Ham, you can’t drink on the Ark.”

“
Why not?”

“
Haven’t you been listening to them? The men of Chemosh are acting like fools minutes before the end, in debauchery, gluttony—drinking.”

He needed another swig
. “It’s for my hip.”

“
What?” she said.

“
My hip, it aches. That’s the only reason I’m drinking.”

She blinked, doubting yet seeming to believe, maybe wanting to believe.

“Sometimes the pain is excruciating,” he said.

“
But—”

“
You can’t deny me medicine, can you?”

“
I… I don’t know.”

“
Fine,” Ham said. “Just don’t tell father.”

“
Don’t tell father what?” Big, raw-boned Noah stepped into view. In the murk, his white beard seemed to shine and his blue eyes were like marble. He took the jug and sloshed the wine around, sniffing. His features became flinty.

“
How many have you hidden?” Noah asked.

Ham hunched his shoulders, staring at the decking.

“I will not have one of my sons riding out the Flood drunk,” Noah said.

“
I’m not drunk,” slurred Ham, finally daring to stare his father in the eye.

Rahab suppressed a sob and looked down as Ham glanced at her.

“You’re ganging up on me,” Ham shouted.

Noah jutted his bearded chin at the storage room
. “How many, my son? The truth.”

Ham couldn
’t draw his thoughts together fast enough. He hated this feeling of shame.

“
I asked you a question,” Noah said.

“
Six,” Ham said.

“
Six?”

“
My hip—”

Noah swept his hand in a sharp negative
. “In how many places have you stored wine?”

“
Why?” Ham asked.

Rahab wept quietly now, while Noah, the righteous preacher of
Jehovah, stared him down.

“
Ten rooms,” Ham said, finally.

“
We’ll start here,” Noah said. “Hand me the other jugs.”

A terrible fear welled within Ham
. How would he pass the time without wine? Imprisoned with thousands upon thousands of animals and with just the eight of them—

“
Ham.”

“
Please, Father. Leave me several for the worst times.”

Noah looked away and Rahab
’s crying grew louder.

“
I won’t get drunk. I promise. Just… just enough to dull the…”

“
No wine,” whispered Noah.

“
You don’t understand!” cried Ham. “I-I-I need help.”

Noah squared his shoulders
. “The sooner we start the sooner we can get back to work.”

Hate flashed deep within Ham
. He wouldn’t forget this. Oh, no. But… not for anything would he want to be outside the Ark. And if he didn’t hand over the jugs… would his father push him outside?

For five long days
, nothing had happened. Ham had his doubts anything would on the seventh. But he reached over the sacks and began to draw out his carefully hoarded supply of wine.