Enoch Primordial (Chronicles of the Nephilim) (11 page)

The city of Nippur lay on the Euphrates just downriver from Sippar,
Enoch’s home town. They had passed by Sippar without stopping to avoid being recognized by the god Utu and so thrown into prison. Even though their escape had been hundreds of years earlier, and though Enoch had grown out his hair and beard, Utu would certainly recognize him. The god would certainly remember his original intent for Enoch’s family, and would certainly not be merciful.

Enoch and his traveling band of warriors and women pulled up to the Nippur river wharf on their boats with their dead Nephilim cargo. They hauled the bodies to the Temple Guard command post just outside Inanna’s temple, called
E-anna
. Though Utu was the patron god of the city, his temple,
E-Babba
, was not as large as E-anna and was overshadowed by its administrative duties, another visible sign of Inanna’s usurpation of his priority. A saying had developed amongst the Nippurians, “It matters not he who rules, but she who counts the money.”

It was bothersome bureaucratic protocol to register the
details of the abduction and execution of the fugitives, with exact times, locations, descriptions and names of everyone involved. Enoch did not trust this procedure. It created an accessible record of their comings and goings that could make them more easily tracked. It typified the kind of centralized control by the gods that Enoch despised. He had been raised within its clutches, but his years with the Adamites had changed him. He and his band of free spirits now roamed through Elohim’s creation without the gods’ oversight. But unfortunately, he could not violate this protocol if he wanted to collect the bounty for their wages.

It had not been
the usual protocol, however, for the gods to be involved in this petty administrative procedure. It surprised Enoch when Inanna herself showed up at the command post to meet with Enoch’s raiding party.

She stepped into the room
, leaving two Nephilim Guards at the door. Methuselah glanced at Enoch. Lamech and Edna tensed. Would she smell their fear? Would she recognize any of them? Edna remembered Inanna with crystal clarity. She was abominable — intemperate, violent, and unpredictable; the worst combination in any leader let alone a god.

Inanna glanced over the tabletwork. She looked at Enoch and the others with a suspicious pause.
How could these four worms have overcome four formidable Nephilim?
She stared long at Enoch. He looked familiar, but she could not place him. He was rodent-like with his long tangled hair and filthy ratty beard. They all looked the same to her. These rural types would have to be cleansed from the earth someday to maintain ethnic purity. The younger sinewy one was acting a bit skittish. Maybe he was lusting after the goddess and was having difficulty hiding his excitement from the slavish whore next to him. She smirked to herself. Their obvious son was handsome. She thought about the pleasure of raping him, but had to return to the task at hand.

“What is your name?” she queried.

“Enoch ben Jared,” he said.

She did not know the name
. It was foreign to Shinar. Enoch was grateful he had taken on a Shinarian name when he was an apkallu of Sippar. Had he used that name of Utuabzu now, Inanna would mentally place him at Sippar and might recollect his escape from their heinous scheme all those years ago.

“How did you defeat these giants?” Inanna inquired with her annoyed impatient tone.

“Good Queen of heaven,” — Enoch hated faking respect — “most of our tribe were wiped out in the battle. We have a few survivors staying at a hostel in the city.” The most convincing lie was the one that was mostly true.

He continued, “We were concerned about the armor and branding on the giants, my lady. It appears they might be congregating in packs of organized militia.”

“Or hordes,” added Lamech.

Inanna looked at
the young man with surprise. Enoch broke out into a cold sweat.

“You think there may be hordes of Nephilim?” Inanna asked Lamech. “That is a rather bold claim, human. Hordes of Nephilim would indicate a rebellion of serious concern. How do you come by this intelligence?”

“The child speaks thoughtlessly, your majesty,” interrupted Methuselah. “We have only seen pack-like activity.”

“I am speaking to the young man,”
snapped Inanna. She knew if she had an opportunity to draw out anything incriminating on these foul vermin, it would be through this stupid brick head of an offspring.

“How is it you are so well trained in recognizing such militia activity?” she asked Lamech.
Perhaps they were not telling her everything about their background. Maybe they had their own revolutionary connections. She had heard rumors about some kind of secret order of giant killers somewhere in the Havilah territory, but could never verify them with any certainty. Even torture had not revealed any secrets. Subterfuge might be a better tactic.

“Does not their soldier’s uniforms and special armor indicate military affiliation?” asked Lamech. He was no brick head. He knew that turning it around and asking it as an obvious question would make him look much less educated and more of a speculator.

Inanna surprised them by turning to Edna. “Have there been any rumors of where these hordes may be?” Whores and wenches were even easier to trip up than young men.

Edna played her ignorance well. She
added an uneducated rural accent. Her theatrics made Methuselah anxious. “Well, mylady, can they hide inside volcanoes?” She said it without a trace of guile. She sounded spectacularly naïve.

Inanna rolled her eyes and shook her head with contempt. She
would not even dignify that remark with an answer. Instead, she turned back to Enoch. “We have had some military uniforms stolen from caravans,” she said. “Several other packs have shown up wearing them as well. Your ‘hordes’ are merely a pack of thieves.” She turned to the administrator and snapped, “Give them their bounty.” She whisked herself away without a farewell.

“Thank you, mighty queen,” Enoch called after her.

She did not even acknowledge it. But as she exited the room, the Naphil guard who accompanied her caught Enoch’s eyes in a long stare before he turned to follow the goddess.

It bothered Enoch. He
collected their reward, thinking that they had better leave the city as quickly as possible.

Inanna sensed something askew with the bounty-hunters, but she also knew she would not get anywhere with her questioning. These humans were too smart to be so stupid. So few survived a tribal slaughter and killed four trained Nephilim warriors? And yet these survivors did not even know that volcanoes were inhospitable to animal life? She did not believe it. There was only one way she was going to get any information out of these wily travelers.

“Shadow them,” she ordered the Nephilim.

Ohyah, the Naphil who had been watching Enoch, responded, “I will send my best tracker, your worship.”

“Good. If he discovers a conspiratorial hideout of more of
these giant-killers, we will hunt them down,” Inanna said. “If not within the week, have him kill them as quickly as possible. We cannot have any of these nasty little gadflies getting under our skin with their revolutionary tendencies.”

“Yes, my queen,” said Ohyah.

She knew she could trust him. As a captain of the bodyguard, he had proven himself worthy by foiling an assassination attempt on Inanna some years before. It had happened when she began to usurp Enlil’s status as patron god of Nippur. She simply outshined the unexceptional and mediocre Lord of the Air. She drew more followers through her bold leadership, and he had clearly become jealous.

She suspected the attempt
had been masterminded by Enlil, but found no connections that led back to him. Though, as an immortal, she could not die, she could be wounded and impaired, which would weaken her status in the pantheon of power. Enlil had become so impotent that he locked himself in E-babba for weeks on end, not showing his face to anyone. When she went on her strategy trips back to Mount Hermon, he was too incompetent to take back his rightful glory. It made her smugly proud. She would eventually orchestrate his imprisonment so she could assume the throne physically, to complement her spiritual influence. But imprisoning a god was tricky. They could not be killed and had to be bound and entrapped into the heart of the earth, or better yet, a volcano. She grinned to herself. It required just the right sort of opportunity. She would wait for her moment.

She was engrossed in her
planned rise to power. She had no idea that Ohyah, this most trusted of servants, had secrets of his own that had been haunting him. Secrets he could not reveal without losing his head.

Enoch and his party, with the six rescued women squashed themselves into a city dwelling that only housed a family of four. They slept, some on the floor and some on the roof under the night sky. The patriarch of the home, Egibi, was a good friend of Betenos’ father Barakil. They had traded with each other through the years and had become more than mere acquaintances. Egibi felt honored to give shelter to Betenos’ tribe in this time of mourning.

Enoch
explained to the women that Egibi would help them all find shelter and training for employment in the city. It would be difficult for these nomads to adjust, but they needed to do so. Enoch could not take care of them.

Betenos
, however, was another story.

She
pleaded with Enoch to take her with them. She pointed out that she had already helped them in many ways since they rescued her, not the least of which was finding this much needed shelter.

Enoch was set against it.

“This is a holy calling, Betenos. You do not even know who Elohim is.”

“Lamech is teaching me,”
she answered.

“We cannot afford the time for Lamech to teach you,” said Enoch. He doubted she would ever convert to Elohim.

Lamech butted in. “I will not shirk my other responsibilities and I will carry her weight if I must.”

That brought a raised eyebrow from Betenos.

Enoch said, “She is not a giant killer.”

Betenos
retorted, “Giant killers need healing shamans for their battle wounds and cooks for their strength.”

Enoch said, “This is too dangerous.”

Edna now joined in, “She survived having her tribe wiped out by Nephilim.”

Enoch barked, “Because we saved her!” He felt
put upon.

“And she returned the favor.” Methuselah held up Edna’s bandaged arm. He was forever grateful for the healer’s salve.

Enoch sighed with exasperation. He stared at Betenos and asked, “Why do you want to join us so desperately? Are you trying to seduce my grandson?”

Everyone went silent.

Betenos looked offended. She puffed up indignantly and said with a slow burn, “No, I am not trying to
seduce
your grandson.” She gave that back with a sting. “I was the daughter of a tribal elder. I do not need your grandson for my betterment! Although, I suspect your concern should be that your grandson is trying to seduce
me
.”

Lamech flushed with embarrassment. She
could not have insulted him more.

“But you
do not have to worry about that,” Betenos continued proudly, “because I never want to marry and have a family anyway! I want to do something much more important with my life. I want to fight for justice. And that is what you are doing.”

Enoch sighed
, his resistence cracking. “If you slow us down, we will leave you at the nearest city.”

Betenos
pushed on, relentless and unyielding, “Did I slow you down in the Greater Zab valley?”

When they
had been too exhausted to go any further, Betenos had given them those special roots that renewed their strength like that of eagles when chewed.

“All right, all right!” barked Enoch. He put his foot down. “But you will be our healer and cook, and you will do as you are told.”

“Will you teach me the bow?” asked Betenos.

Enoch
burst out chuckling. Everyone joined in, relieved. She was growing on them all.

Enoch said, “Well you certainly do have the requisite stubborn-headedness to be a part of this
tribe.”

They
all laughed some more — except for Lamech. Her remarks had deeply hurt him. He had truly been enjoying her presence, not trying to seduce her. Her arrogance of caste superiority left a foul impression on him. He looked for a way to leave the room without drawing attention to himself.

Edna could see her son
’s hurt. She held back from mothering him. She knew he had to go through this rejection on his own. It would mature him.

A knock at the door frightened them all.
A curfew ruled the city. Anyone out in the streets at this hour could be arrested. The four of them found their weapons. Egibi opened the door to a six-year old child.

“Child, what are you doing out there!” yelped Egibi
. He grabbed the small shoulder and pulled him quickly inside. “Do you not know, you could be arrested or killed outside past curfew!” he scolded.

The child nodded. He held out a small box to Egibi
, a scribe’s writing tablet with wax embedded in wood. When opened, a person could mark the wax and close it for storage. Egibi opened it and looked at it, but he could not read.

Enoch took the tablet and read it. His eyes went wide. “It says it is from an ‘Ohyah’, the Nephilim Captain of the Guard. He wants to speak with me in secret. He says he has important intelligence for me. He wants to meet outside the city walls by the garbage dump.”

“That smelly pit?” said Betenos.

“He does not want us to be discovered,” said Enoch. “No one is going to be snooping around the city garbage dump in the late of night. And
there are not many places a giant’s presence can be discreet.”

“A trap,” offered Methuselah.

Enoch did not agree. “He would not admit to me that he was a Nephilim Captain of the Guard if he wanted to trick me,” he said. “That would be about the last thing he would pretend to be.”

“A double cross?”
suggested Methuselah.

Enoch countered, “
He is telling me a disadvantageous truth to place himself in a vulnerable position. And this little child is more evidence of that sentiment.”

“Just the same,
we are going with you,” said Methuselah. “We will keep out of sight in case it does turn out to be a trap.”