Chapter 13 - Not Intended
Semjaza looked down on the girl with disgust. What had I seen in her? She lay cowering in the corner with her knees pulled tightly to her chest. Only a coarsely woven garment covered her nakedness. The Elohim outside the tent were speaking quietly. The sound of hearty, though hushed, laughs interrupted their languid speech and the whimpers, louder now, coming from inside.
The girl was crying.
“Be silent!” Semjaza commanded as he paced back and forth restlessly in the confines of the tent. How dare she react this way—to an Elohim. She should be honored to be the first. He remembered the evening before. Glorious sensations had filled his being as he “knew” the girl—just as Lord L had said. The power and exhilaration he felt was as great as that of battle. The satisfaction of victory was as sweet. Then she had to ruin it—with her pleading and crying. Why should he stop something so glorious? He looked at the blood-soaked cushions on which she had lain. She was weak—not worthy of an Elohim. Yet, she had been pleasing—and she was beautiful. Even now with her long dark hair falling over her tear-streaked face, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed—something stirred in him. The longing, the desire that he felt in the darkness was returning.
“When shall the childling arrive?” he demanded as he stooped down and cupped her face gently in his hands, the tenderness of his touch made the cruelty of his tone even colder.
“I-I do not know,” she stammered, pulling away from him, “there is no way to know for sure until—”
“Until what?” Semjaza asked brusquely, tightening his grip on her jaw until she cried out in pain.
“Let me go!” Naamah begged.
Semjaza released her chin with a push so that she fell backwards. “Very well, but answer quickly or you will pay dearly for it.”
“I cannot know for sure until the way of women leaves me,” she answered cautiously as she massaged her chin.
Semjaza rushed toward her, kicking over a basket of food in the process. “What is this you speak of girl? Would you lie to your husband?” Semjaza asked with a sardonic smile as he watched her back further into the corner.
“No, no, I speak the truth,” she replied quickly, “any Medici will tell you the same. The blood of life flows from us, each daughter of Eve, once before the next new moon comes. When the blood of life remains within us, a new life begins.”
“Very well, then. You will remain in my tent until the next new moon. The ceremony will take place after the sign of new life.” Semjaza brushed the folds of the tent aside and tossed a bundle backward. “Adorn yourself.”
Semjaza gave a curt nod to his men who surrounding the tent. “Guard her,” he ordered. “No one is to enter.” He brushed past one of the bumbling humans assigned to serve him, ignoring the hand raised to get his attention, and headed toward the thick cluster of trees. He needed to be alone—to think.
###
Letah stumbled out of B’Nai Elohim Semjaza’s path, sweating profusely. Of course, one as great as he would not notice a simple sebassi such as I. Letah shook his head as he silently berated himself and turned back in the opposite direction. He had been looking for Naamah since the Celebration of the First-Borns ended. He had tried to find her after completing the last chore Captain Semjaza had given him, but he returned too late. Naamah had already joined her brother Tubal-Cain for the communion meal, and when he saw Lamech enter the tent in a foul mood, he knew better than to approach uninvited.
Yes, I was right to wait. Lamech would have been furious at any intrusion. He would have thought me presumptuous indeed to approach. Yet, as one betrothed to his daughter, perhaps it would have been acceptable? As one soon to be like a son to him, my presence should have been welcomed.
Letah turned back, moving with newfound purpose toward the Elohim guarding the tent. He ignored his clammy hands and the increasing grumbling in his belly. He had not had a meal since sun’s birth. He became worried when he had not found Naamah in her family’s tent, or with the sebassi preparing the dawn’s meal, nor had she been at the stream with the women drawing water. Everyone he approached said they hadn’t seen her. But some seemed to know more, even though they denied it when he asked if they were sure. Finally, he ran into Naamah’s mother, Zillah, who mentioned she last saw Naamah with Captain Semjaza. Letah couldn’t believe Naamah would go off alone with a stranger, even if he was an honored guest. No, not Naamah. What happened to Tiph’arah? And Tubal-Cain? Surely Lamech would never allow such a thing. Still, the gnawing uneasiness in his belly grew. Letah took a deep breath before addressing the Elohim Hazazel, sitting on a large stump next to the tent.
“Please pardon my boldness.” Letah nodded and bowed. “But might I ask you if have seen Sebassi Naamah?”
“Well of course I have seen her, human,” Hazazel replied, looking up casually from the wooden piece in his hands. “She is magnificent, isn’t she?”
“What?” Letah asked. His face paled.
“My design human,” Hazazel said, holding out the curving figure to Letah, “isn’t she pleasing?”
“Yes, she is.” Letah stammered as the color returned to his cheeks. “She is quite a beautiful piece of art.” Letah paused for a moment as he watched Hazazel carve more details into the wooden woman. He took a deep breath again as he smoothed his hands over his tanned sash. “Please pardon me again, honored one. But I thought you said you saw Naamah—”
“I did say that, human. Oh—” Hazazel stopped whittling and focused on Letah’s eyes intently. “Are you s-l-o-w? I have heard that some of you are s-l-o-w.”
“No, not at all,” Letah said, understanding his mistake. “What I meant to ask was do you know where Sebassi Naamah is now?”
“Well of course,” Hazazel said as he waived his hand over his shoulder, “she is in the tent.”
Letah’s bowed slightly as his hands moved over his sash again. “Honored One, might I go in and greet her?”
“Certainly not,” Hazazel replied, not bothering to look up. He used his small knife to skim over the figurine with precision.
Letah blinked with confusion as the light of sun’s peak flickered through the clouds. He shaded his eyes, then smoothed his hands over his sash once more and stopped suddenly. He thought he heard the faint sound of whimpering. He strained and listened carefully—no, that was crying. Naamah was inside crying! Letah gulped and tried again.
“Please, Honored One, allow me to greet Naamah and inquire of her well-being this day.”
“Sorry human. Captain’s orders,” Hazazel stretched to his full height, “No one is to go in.”
“But this is not our way,” Letah protested, ignoring the ball in his stomach, “I am her intended. Father Lamech will be outraged at—at this insult to his family!”
“What is your name human?” Hazazel asked calmly.
“My name is Letah—son of Cain.”
“Well Letah, son of Cain, Father Lamech is fully aware of these arrangements. It is he who made them with B’Nai Semjaza of the Elohim this last sun’s sleep.” Hazazel raised his voice, “So, you certainly may not see Naamah at all.”
The other Elohim, busy assembling large shelters nearby, stared at the disturbance. Letah backed away, but not before he stumbled over a tree root. He flushed as he righted himself and ran back into the woods.
###
“Poor Letah,” Tiph’arah murmured under her breath as she watched Letah run away.
(“Too much.” Onami agreed out loud, not that she could hear him. “I must tell the others—wait!)
Behind him, two small hands clutched the edge of the cliff. Tiph’arah was scaling the face of the cliff to the valley below.
(That woman is unwell! But then again, her tanned covering and tawny skin blended into the rock wall. They might not notice her if she was quiet.)
In a few moments, she landed softly behind a thicket of scrubby bushes at the base of the cliff.
(Semjaza’s men might not see her, but they will spot me. Without another thought, Onami jumped and landed next to Tiph’arah in an instant.)
The Elohim continued talking without even a glance their way. Tiph’arah ran like the wind up the straight and narrow path with a flash of light behind her.
###
Delmar paced back and forth, considering his predicament. Did Semjaza have some hidden knowledge? A new strategy of the Ancient One, perhaps? Delmar glanced around the camp absently. There were no Fallen here, as far as he could tell—just the normal bustle of the tribe preparing for the Ceremony. Delmar tensed and shook his head. Maybe there is still a chance. If Semjaza has not done that which is eternal—perhaps he may be restored. If I can speak with him alone without Fallen present, I might be able to—
“Delmar, look to!” a voice called sharply.
Delmar snapped his head up. Onami approached from the woods just across from the tents of the Medici.
“Do you have to be so obvious?” Delmar asked with irritation, “What if Fallen had been about? You would have revealed my presence and my name too, no less.”
“Delmar, there are no Fallen here. The sun is at peak. Never mind that now—I have news.”
“Yes, I have much to tell you too. Captain Semjaza has—”
“Captain Semjaza has what?”
Onami and Delmar both turned to face Azam, who had just arrived from escorting the Elders of Seth from the Cove back to the seti.
“You won’t believe it! I saw Semjaza—” Onami began
Azam raised his finger to his lips. “Follow me.”
Onami and Delmar trailed behind Azam as he wove in and out the families of Adam, unseen, until finally he stopped just beneath a crop of giant cypresses. Azam paused and in one movement, whisked them into the treetops.
“Okay,” Onami whispered. “We’re alone now. Why the secrecy?”
“We don’t know the extent of Semjaza’s error or his influence. Until we do, we cannot speak freely, even among our brothers.”
“Then we must hurry.” Onami leaned in closer as he lowered his voice, “Our Captain is Fallen indeed.”
“How do you know?” Azam asked. “You can’t accuse him without proof—you would be charged insubordination and rebellion.”
“I have proof. Semjaza and a few of his closest Lieutenants are building dwellings with the sons of Cain. Semjaza has done that which is unseemly.”
“You saw them too?” Delmar asked so loudly he startled a massive flock of crows roosting in the trees. Their sudden flight drew the attention of everyone below—all clamor ceased while the elders stared at the sky—searching for the cause of the omen.
“More discretion, my friend,” Azam said sternly, once the camp settled down.
“I was at Tubal-Cain’s for communion.” Delmar’s voice was barely audible now. “Captain Semjaza, Hazazel, Yamezerak and a few others were consorting with the humans uncloaked. The Fallen were about too. It was unbearable, but I did manage to observe them undetected.”
“What did you learn?”
“Why are we sitting here doing nothing?” Onami asked. “I already told you Semjaza is Fallen!”
“Patience, Onami,” Azam said firmly, “First, I want to hear Delmar, then you can give your report—after Delmar.”
“Thank you,” Delmar gave Onami a triumphant smile. Onami focused on the treetops, completely ignoring him. “Like I was saying before, it was unbearable. Semjaza and his men partook of the drink of power with the humans and shared in their fellowship. I was shocked. Speaking to the humans without orders is twisted enough, but what Semjaza said could put him in exile.”
“Delmar,” Azam said, “please get to the essence quickly. The others will soon notice our absence.”
“Of course, Azam,” Delmar said, ignoring Onami’s satisfied smirk. “What I mean to say is—Captain Semjaza asked to be joined with a daughter of Eve. From the looks of it, the girl’s father might have made, an arrangement.”
“Enough is enough,” Onami interrupted, “I’ve been trying to tell you two. Captain Semjaza has done more than arrange it—he has consummated the union.”
“What!” Azam and Delmar said almost in unison.
“We need reinforcements—now! I followed the girl Tiph’arah, just like you asked. She led me straight to Semjaza’s new home. He has already got himself a wife.”
“That cannot be,” Azam said, “Captain Semjaza may be confused. Who wouldn’t be with Fallen about? But this, no—”
“It can be, and it is,” Onami insisted. “I saw it with my own eyes. It is recorded.”
Azam focused on the seti below. The camp bustled with activity. Men and women laughed, going about their daily tasks, while the children played, darting in and out of the ever-moving sebassis preparing the next meal. “I see,” he said after a long pause, aware their world would soon change.
“Azam—” Onami tapped his comrade’s shoulder. “What should we do?”
“You must return to Heaven’s Realm and follow the protocol,” Azam began systematically checking the numerous weapons concealed beneath his cloak. “Delmar and I will guard the Bearer.”
Onami turned to leave.
“Onami, one more thing.”
“Yes, Azam.”
“Speak to no one. And, do not go by the Gate of Arata. You must go through the heart of Eden.”
“But Azam, I can’t go that way. The Cherubim won’t allow it.”
“You must convince them, Onami. It is the only way.”