But she still might slit his throat.

The soldier half pushed, half dragged Emzara through a maze of pa.s.sages, back to the palace. He finally shoved her through a door and into a chamber. He stayed outside the door, guarding her. Escape was out of the question. She decided to look around to find a weapon or another way out.

It was a grand regal bedchamber. Large marble columns checkered the room. Exotic tapestries from the Indus valley hung on the walls. They depicted erotic art from the East, men and women engaged in every form of s.e.xual behavior imaginable, with their blue deities watching, and sometimes partic.i.p.ating.

A large circular bed dominated the center of the room, the extravagant mattress covered with glistening sheets of a fabric she had never seen before. The cloth felt silky smooth to her touch. The decadence repulsed her. Not the wealth itself or the beauty it could buy, but rather the perverse purposes for which such mammon and beauty were engaged. Elohim created beauty, and mankind turned beauty into an ugly G.o.d.

She turned around lost in thought. Lugalanu's silent presence shocked her. He stood watching her from the shadow of a pillar. She stepped back.

"What is your name, nomad?" he asked.

"Emzara, my lord, wife of Noah ben Lamech," she responded respectfully.

He struggled to hide his surprise from her. She had no idea that the man before her just sent her husband to the slave mines to be forgotten by G.o.d himself. On the other hand, if that husband was the Chosen Seed, this woman before him was a treasure of inestimable value. At first, Lugalanu's interest in her had been tender, even altruistic. Her mature queen-like beauty and composure entranced him. It was why he could not take his eyes off her in the temple room. It was why his heart had leapt with hope when the G.o.ds placed her into his hands. But now, the discovery that she was the very consort of the Chosen Seed himself carried political and historical weight of which he could only dream.

He stepped closer. She cringed.

"Fear not, Emzara," he a.s.sured her, "I will not hurt you. You please me."

She could feel his eyes all over her. They were hungry eyes. But they were not the same as the G.o.d Anu's. They had a tenderness that surprised her.

"Does this please you?" he gestured around the room. He could see she was shy about it all. "You may speak your mind."

Emzara had nothing to lose. "My lord, how could I have pleasure in the kingdom that killed my husband and family, and destroyed my people?"

Excellent, he thought, she thinks he is dead. That increased his chances. Of course, his responsibility in killing those most dear to her would certainly decrease his chances with equal weight, if she knew.

"But I saved you," he murmured. It was feeble. But it was only his starting point.

"Perhaps you should not have," she said.

"I am sorry for your loss," he said. "The rule of the G.o.ds is not always equitable to their subjects. If you must know, I argued vociferously against it. Nevertheless, we subjects must obey the commands of our superiors, even if we disagree with them. Surely, you respect authority."

She replied, "Integrity sometimes requires defying authority." She thought of her dead husband now, and how proud she was to have been his wife. How wrong she had been to think that he was stubborn. She understood now the value of integrity that her own stubborn will had refused to see.

Yes, Lugalanu thought, this is the woman I want more than anything. He would do anything to have her by his side, but it would only satisfy him if she did so willingly. He knew now he would have to woo her, because force would not maintain her dignity. He accepted this challenge with a heart full of hope. He was a patient man.

"Emzara, I am different from the G.o.ds. I will not force myself upon you. I shall make you one of my maidservants. Perhaps in time, you shall change your mind about this kingdom-about me."

Emzara could not believe her good fortune. Her hand moved away from the dagger handle secreted beneath her robes. Let him think what he wanted.

Chapter 8.

The copper slave mine was a vast circular strip mining operation deep in a canyon on the outer region of the Great Desert. Spiral pathways wound their way downward like a whirlpool in pursuit of copper, the life food of a new age begun by the discovery of bronze. Bronze was an alloy more durable than its copper predecessor, being used in everything from tools and decoration to weapons and armor. It was discovered by mixing tin with copper, which resulted in the harder bronze that would last longer and kill more efficiently in weaponry. For all those reasons, especially the last, G.o.ds and kings needed plenty of bronze to build their kingdoms. Extracting copper ore from the ground was laborious work. It required many men to unearth the volume demanded by such rulers. The necessary work force could be met by only one thing: Slaves, and lots of them.

That slaves would come from humankind was ingrained in the thinking of the world from days of old. Uriel hated slavery, and he hated what the Watchers had done to craft a mythology of slavery to support their purposes.

Their first goal was to eradicate Elohim from the minds of men and replace him with their own pantheon. They disseminated myths that supported their hierarchy of the four high G.o.ds reigning over the earth. The four were: Anu, father G.o.d of the heavens; his vice-regent Enlil, lord of the air, wind, and storm; Enki, G.o.d of water and Abyss; and Ninhursag, the earth G.o.ddess. Below them were the three that completed the "Seven who Decreed Fate": Nanna the moon G.o.d; Utu the sun G.o.d; and Inanna, G.o.ddess of s.e.x and war. The Sumerians called these and the other G.o.ds of the cities Anunnaki, which means "G.o.ds of royal seed."

Their creation story bothered Uriel the most. In their narrative, the Anunnaki created mankind to be slaves of the G.o.ds, and bear the yoke of their labors, to mine their precious elements and build their holy kingdoms. Clay was mixed with the flesh of a G.o.d and then spat upon and mankind was birthed. So Elohim's purpose of male and female created in his image to rule over creation was displaced with an opposite narrative, one that carried an irony not lost on Uriel: that at one and the same time, man was more exalted than Elohim made him, and yet that man was created to be a slave of the Anunnaki. In this way, the Watchers built a complete religion of idolatry that opposed Elohim's rule and corrupted the entire human race. The fallen Sons of G.o.d could not attack the living G.o.d Elohim directly, but they could attack him indirectly by despoiling his heaven-bound image of royal representative into an earth-bound image of debased slave.

Uriel lay on a b.u.t.te overlooking the mine with Noah and Methuselah. Below them, thousands of slaves lined the spiral pathways with pickaxes and wheelbarrows, endlessly hacking away at veins of copper ore deposits. Dog-soldiers watched over them. The guards were more chimeras of Anu's kingdom, with bodies of men and the vicious heads of wild dogs, wolves, and jackals. Only fifty guards had this duty, because not many were needed. These slaves were broken men, some bearing the weight of a lifetime of sweat and toil, only to die in the dust having been shorn of every ounce of their self-respect. A rigid discipline kept the slaves so busy that any thought of freedom could not gain a foothold in their minds. The slaves worked from morning until night with only enough food to keep them barely alive. Hunger starved any rebellious intentions.

"So, Chosen Seed," asked Uriel dryly, "has the Almighty revealed how to conquer this impossible target?"

"I thought archangels communed directly with Elohim," Noah responded. "Can you not ask him yourself?"

Uriel shook his head. "In heaven, yes. But on earth, we are bound by the limitations of the flesh." Of course, Uriel knew that Elohim could speak to anyone he wanted, whenever he wanted, in whatever way he wanted. And sometimes he did. But his choice of using these vessels would remain a mystery to Uriel.

"Can you die?" asked Noah.

"No. But we are bound in all other ways," Uriel said. "Mal'akim and Archangels eat, sleep, and partake in all bodily endeavors, including pain. But we cannot die like men."

Uriel's limitations seemed greater than his advantages to Noah. "Are you here to help me, or just to irritate me?" Noah jabbed.

"To ensure you build the box," the archangel replied. "I can only wonder at Elohim's disappointment with me now."

Noah smiled. He was beginning to appreciate the archangel's wit.

Methuselah interrupted them, "Stop your bickering, lovebirds. I see our plan. Down there is the pen for the slaves."

They followed Methuselah's pointing finger. At the top of the vast pit was a fenced-in area with gates that housed large sleeping quarters. He pointed at a spot about seventy cubits away from the pen.

"Over there, the guards' quarters. There are not many to contend with." They saw a single earthen structure with a thatched roof.

Uriel said, "You do not need many guards for broken starving slaves."

"Once they taste freedom," Noah offered, "they will die for it."

Methuselah looked at the setting sun. "Slave or free, everyone must sleep."

Noah took the reins. "There is not much time. Let us prepare."

Shortly before midnight Noah's three-man squad made their move. They thanked Elohim it was not a full moon, for the darkness aided their concealment as they descended upon the guardhouse and slave quarters.

Noah and Methuselah slipped up to the guardhouse. Through the window, they could see the majority of the guards sleeping in tight military style rows. They took a couple logs from the woodpile and silently wedged the two doors shut. They found a cart and filled it with brush, pushing it over to one of the windows of the guardhouse.

By the slave pen, a dog-soldier marched the perimeter. He stopped to look up at the moon and suppressed the urge to howl.

The sound of soft footsteps made his ears stiffen.

He jerked around. Nothing but night surrounded him. He was on the back part of the pen, separated from the guard post up front that held his comrades. He sensed something. He drew out his horn and placed it to his snout, ready to blow.

An arrow pierced his throat sending him to the ground choking to death. Uriel trotted quietly past him.

The second sentry paced not far from the first. He saw a figure walking toward him in the darkness. He a.s.sumed it was his fellow sentry. He gave a soft yelp of recognition.

The figure yelped back.

The sentry relaxed and thought of taking a pee.

The figure stopped, and aimed a bow at the sentry. It did not register with him what was happening, until the arrow pierced his skull, dropping him to the ground.

By the guardhouse, Noah finished barring the other windows. Methuselah grabbed a torch from the perimeter and poked its flaming tip into the brush cart. He moved it steadily until the dried twigs sparked into flame. Then he tossed the torch up on the thatched roof.

Four dog-soldier sentries warmed themselves at a fire by the gates of the slave pen. It was nearing the end of their watch and they were all a little tired. The orange and yellow flutter of flame caught the eye of one of the sentries. He looked over to the guardhouse and saw the roof engulfed in flames. He barked in surprise. The others saw the fire. They howled to awaken the rest of the guards. One of the sentries pulled out his horn and sounded it.

Uriel came around the corner of the pen livid with anger. "They were supposed to wait for me," he grumbled. He shook his head and pressed forward silently.

At the guardhouse, the sounding horn surprised Methuselah and Noah. Methuselah turned to his grandson, a puzzled expression clouding his face. "Were we supposed to wait?" he asked.

Inside the guardhouse, the warning of the horn wakened the other dog-soldiers. Coughing from the smoke and the barking of confusion sounded under the crackling of the fire.

Uriel rushed the sentries by the gates of the pen with his drawn swords. He slew three of them before they even knew what had happened. But the fourth was already running toward the guardhouse, continuing to blow his infernal horn.

For Elohim's sake, thought Uriel, he was waking the entire desert! He threw his sword like a spear at the sentry. It covered the thirty-five cubits and pierced the running sentry The horn died in a whimper.

Uriel ran for the guardhouse. He pa.s.sed the downed sentry, drawing his sword from the bleeding corpse without slowing down.

Inside the guardhouse, the dog-soldiers sought in vain to open the doors and windows. But they were locked in. One window remained open. Barking and howling, they clambered out the window single file, only to be speared by Noah. They fell howling into the flames of the burning cart. Methuselah supported Noah with a bow and arrow.

On the far side of the guardhouse, some soldiers managed to break through the other barred window and climb out to freedom, but Uriel arrived to cut them down. He slammed the window shut and re-barred it with the log.

Very quickly, the guards were dead and the guardhouse was a smoldering ruin. The roof collapsed and engulfed the soldiers in an inferno.

Noah, Uriel, and Methuselah walked over to the slave pen.

"You were supposed to wait," Uriel griped to Methuselah.

"My memory is failing," said Methuselah. "Have some compa.s.sion for an old man."

"I will not suffer your excuses," said Uriel.

"You certainly took your time dispatching those sentries," countered Methuselah. "Did you stop to pet them?"

Noah interrupted them with a chuckle. "Respect your elder, Methuselah." Uriel as an archangel was a few thousand years older than even Methuselah.

Uriel looked over to see the two of them grinning like griffons. He shook his head, and opened the large gates single-handedly. The three of them walked inside.

The flickering firelight of their torches illuminated a thousand emaciated slaves fearfully wondering their fate. They had not been able to see what was going on outside their pen. They had no idea who these warriors were standing before them.

Methuselah immediately released the ropes that tied the slaves together through metal rings staked to the ground.

Noah stepped forward and spoke like a general. "I am Noah ben Lamech, a son of Enoch. I have freed you from the tyranny of the G.o.ds."

Baffled silence met Noah's inspiring proclamation. The slaves did not know how to respond to such a claim. Most thought it a nightmare, others, a ma.s.s hallucination. Anything but true liberation.

Eventually, a sc.r.a.ppy slave named Murashu stepped forward and spoke up. "What do you mean, freed?"

"You are now free to live by your own choices," said Noah.

Another uncomfortable silence met him.

"We have lived as slaves most of our lives. We do not know how to make choices."

"Anu feeds us and gives us work!" yelled another slave.

"We will die on our own," added another. The ma.s.s of sleepy slaves began to stir.

Uriel flashed an "I told you so" look to Noah.

"Then join me!" shouted Noah with a strong, sure command. "Join my army to defy the G.o.ds and free all men from slavery and idol worship!"

Now Murashu got bold. "We cannot fight trained soldiers. Look at us. We are shades of men."

Another voice shouted from the crowd, "Why should we die for you!" It was more of a statement than a question. The crowd became restless.

Murashu matched Noah's resolve. "We will be punished when the G.o.ds see what you have done! Why have you done this to us?"

Murmurs of angry agreement went through the crowd.

Methuselah stopped releasing the ropes. He began to think it might not be such a good idea to release an angry crowd of ingrates from their restraints.

Noah realized a truth about human society: not everyone wanted freedom. When a people willingly or unwillingly become wards of their rulers, they eventually lose their capacity for self-determination. Like helpless children, they actually prefer security in exchange for their freedom. Better the misery they know while being taken care of than the misery they do not know being freely accountable for their own actions. Noah pitied them. They had lost their souls.

Then a big burly man stepped out of the ranks. He had a heavy beard and arms the size of most men's legs. Evidently, he got more to eat than the others. The slaves quieted down.

Uriel stepped closer to Noah in protection.

The man walked right up to Noah, fearlessly ignoring Uriel, and said, "I am Tubal-cain, distant son of Cain."

Methuselah snapped a look at him. The name of Cain did not bring pleasant memories to mind. Cain, the cursed, the man of wrath, had once hunted him and Noah's father Lamech.

Noah's eyes went wide. "Cousin?" Noah had known of his cousins from the line of Cain, son of Adam. They resided in the land of Nod far to the north. But he had not known that they too had become captive to the Watchers.

Tubal-cain glared unblinkingly at Noah. "You say you defy the G.o.ds. What of Elohim?"

"I have an archangel of Elohim with me," said Noah, hoping that would say enough.

Uriel mumbled to himself, "Tell everyone, why don't you." It was clearly to his advantage to remain anonymous in his ident.i.ty and Noah knew that.