People of the Flood (Ark Chronicles 2) (11 page)

The Dragon

1.

Ham took his family far south of Ararat, and
his family grew and prospered. Yet, alone in the harsh New World, they couldn’t survive well. So every year or two, sons looking for wives and those with marriageable daughters or goods trekked back to Ararat for Fall Festival. There, the children of Noah mingled and married cousins and traded, sometimes arguing hotly. Fortunately, bloodshed was avoided, although more than once a cheering throng witnessed a wrestling match.

In time, the clans of Shem and Japheth also moved from Ararat
. But they remained nearer one another than Ham’s far-ranging family.

Ham took his clan southeast, and a fear of floods caused them to remain in the highlands, in the mountains rather than descending into the plains or valleys
. With disposable stone axes for the heavy work, they felled trees, chopped underbrush and burned off new sowing areas. There, they built a semi-permanent village and stayed a dozen years at the longest. Once the millet and barley began to fail because of overworked soil, they loaded donkeys, two-wheeled oxcarts and wagons and moved south again to repeat the slash-and burn-process.

Several sons of Put had the wanderlust and traveled far
ther and wider, reporting on what they had seen. In the east, in high, rugged mountains, they found blue stones, lapis lazuli, and in certain fast-flowing streams, they spotted gold specks. In such they laid fleece, returning later to gather the gold-laden wool.

Ham aged
and grew vines and fermented wine, and he taught his clan the art of brewing barley beer. Over time, drunkenness fueled too many of his decisions. Rahab despaired, while Kush, Menes, Put and Canaan aided their father in his duties, and as clan elders, they took on greater responsibilities.

Twenty years passed
after the curse, thirty and then forty years.

During that time
, a son was born to Canaan and Miriam. His name was Beor, and he grew into a man utterly unlike his brothers and sisters. A head taller than any Hamite, with massive bones and immensely powerful muscles, Beor became the strongest man in the clan and perhaps in the world. Extraordinarily stubborn, with a black beard and thick lips, to his horror he lost his hair early, becoming the first bald man of the New World.

He led the Scouts, shepherds by inclination
. Usually the tribe wasn’t on the move. But whenever the tribe exhausted the slash-and-burn soil and debated where to move next, the Scouts searched for the new location and reported on the best options. Beor dominated the Scouts by his size, strength and stubbornness and because of what happened next.

Beor loathed his baldness
. When first his hair thinned, he railed against fate and begged his father for an antidote.

“
Gaea might have known of one,” Canaan said, “but neither I nor your mother can help you in this.”

A month later
, and in the evening, as shepherds sat around a campfire, Ham quaffed ale and questioned them on the flocks. Beor sat hunched on a log, brooding, staring at the flames.

“
Why so glum, my boy?” Ham asked. “Look at your thews, your shoulders. Oxen must envy you your strength.”

Beor indicated his balding head.

“Ah,” Ham said. “And you’re so young.”

“
Is there nothing I can do?” Beor asked. “Must I look like a vulture with its bald skull for the rest of my life?”

“
I heard long ago of a cure for baldness—”

“
What is it?” Beor asked, before Ham could finish.

“
It was a fable, a myth, an old wife’s concoction.”

“
Some of those tales, I’m told, have a basis in fact.”

“
Perhaps that’s so. Well…” Ham gulped ale. “The tonic was made of one part paws of a dog, one part kernels of dates and one part hoof of a donkey. Mix and cook thoroughly with oil in an earthen pot and anoint it on your head.”

“
What are dates?”

“
Fruit from a tree. I haven’t seen any in the New World, although in the Old, they grew plentifully.”

Beor sighed.

Ham swirled his ale-cup. “Perhaps the Slayers had the answer.”

“
Who?”

Ham told him of Ymir
’s Slayers, the mighty warriors who had worn wolf caps. “Slay a beast, a savage one preferably, and wear its head as your cap. Then no one will notice that you’re bald.”

Beor
’s dark eyes glowed at the idea.

So
, the massive son of Canaan dealt for the bravest hunting hounds, trading three of his prized rams and seven goats. Then, he went to Ham and told him his plan. In the gloom of his forge, Ham studied the serious youth. He noted the breadth of Beor’s shoulders, the lumps of muscle rising behind the thick neck, and he pitied Beor the few wisps of hair over his nearly bald dome. From a locked chest, Ham selected precious tinstones. Soon the ring of his hammer told the tale of toughing bronze, and the grind of sandstone said that he gave it a razor-sharp edge. He fixed this to a heavy shaft and presented it to Beor three days later.

“
This is a pike, my boy, a worthy weapon for your quest.”

Beor
’s eyes glittered. “I am in your debt, and I promise I won’t forget this.”

Beor next fashioned spears with fire-hardened tips and practiced endlessly
. Soon, he bartered with Put for flint-tips, binding them to his spears. Then he left the settlement, and in his vanity, he chose a dreadful beast.

Great sloth lived in the primeval forests, grunting as
it shuffled in its odd, upright gait. A vast, bear-like creature, well over twice the height of a man, the great sloth was twenty feet long and weighed as much as eight thousand pounds. Most had shaggy, dark brown hair and skin tougher than Antediluvian chainmail. With their heavy molars, they crushed leaves and tender branches and sometimes, with claws as big as daggers, they chased wolves and leopards from their kills, scavenging off the meat. Such were the size of the claws and the way they grew from their fore and hind paws that no great sloth could walk on the flat of its feet. Rather, like an anteater, it shuffled on the sides.

It
made a peculiar sight, this giant beast that walked like a man, its bear-like head towering over many trees. Wolves slunk in fear when it bellowed. Lions avoided the monster when its piggy little eyes turned red with rage during rutting season and when it coughed in that deep, unforgettable way. Fast, great sloth wasn’t. Thus, the clan of Ham seldom worried about the beast. Yet all knew that to face the giant creature was to court death.

Beor tracked the largest great sloth of the region, Old Slow, whose shaggy pelt shone so luxuriously that some wondered if
the male dined off dragon eggs.

A week after he had started, Beor found Old Slow as he shuffled to a valley oak tree, his favorite
. Beor shivered at the monster’s size, and he wondered at the sanity of his plan. But he touched his balding head. He’d seen a beauty at last year’s Festival. She was a young woman of Japheth Clan. Beor scowled. She seemed to like pretty boys, those with cute faces and heads full of hair. Her eyes hadn’t lingered on his ruggedness.

So
, in the depths of the valley forest Beor urged his hounds to the attack, and he carried his flint-tipped spears in the crook of his arm. The barking dogs circled the dining monster.

Old Slow swiveled his gargantuan head, with his eyes blazing like an enraged drunk
. He roared, saliva spraying, the sound deafening. The hounds leapt back, barking even harder than before.

Beor
grimaced. The great sloth’s musk was sickening. The beast seemed invincible, peering down at him, and it had monstrously huge arms. In this forest glade, far from camp, Beor launched the first spear.

Old Slow grew rigid,
with the spear sticking in him. And for the first time in his life, he
moved
. A sweep of his arm knocked out the spear. Then it seemed as if he pounced. In actuality, Old Slow dropped from his upright position and onto all fours, and he clawed a dog to death.

The rest of the hounds howled
as two darted in to nip the beast from behind. Old Slow whirled to slash them. Beor heaved a second spear, but the flint tip shattered against Old Slow’s tough hide. Then there began a terrible dance of death. Old Slow shuffled on the sides of his feet. The frenzied hounds darted in to bite and slash with their teeth, although the shaggy hair combined with the nearly chain-mail strong skin made the hounds’ attack more irritating than deadly, although their wild barking distracted the giant monster. The spears hurled at close range hurt Old Slow, inflicting wounds that bled.

Soon
, Old Slow bled from six wounds. But five dogs lay dead or dying. And then Beor threw his last flint-tipped spear. With sweaty palms, he grabbed his special weapon. It was thicker, longer and had a heavy head of bronze. Grandfather Ham, the patriarch of the clan, had called it a pike.

“
Die, beast!” Beor roared.

Old Slow roared back
, and dogs worried his bloody pelt. Then eight thousands pounds of infuriated great sloth moved on two hind feet to the assault, his dagger-sized claws clattering. Like a giant drunk, he swayed and shuffled on the sides of his feet, swinging his shaggy arms.

Beor drove the bronze point into Old Slow
’s chest. The great sloth reared back, bellowing in agony. For a moment, Beor hung onto the pike, rising off the ground as the great sloth rose to his imposing height. Then Beor let go and rolled, and he scrambled on all fours behind the nearest tree.

Old Slow stared at him with those hot red eyes, while his jaws worked as if he tried to speak
. He took a tentative step. Then Old Slow toppled sideways, crashing to the ground.

A month later, with his great sloth cap and the giant claws dangling on his chest, Beor drove a herd of sheep one hundred leagues to Japheth Clan
. Beor was too anxious to wait until next year’s Festival. He sought out Tarshish, the son of Javan.

Tarshish hungered for the sheep, yet like all Japhethites
, he told Beor that first Europa must bless the marriage.

The next day, shedding pike, hat and great sloth claws, Beor was ushered into a sprawling tent, partitioned with linen curtains
. The sound of feminine laughter made him uneasy and caused him to wonder if they secretly spied him and mocked his baldness. Yet he squared his shoulders, determined to win over Europa, the matriarch of Japheth Clan.

After a long wait
, a curtain drew back and a young girl beckoned him deeper into the tent.

He entered an area warmed by a heap of charcoal in a giant stone brazier
. The charcoal glowed and radiated heat. Beside it, on a wooden dais and in a large cedar chair, sat Europa. The chair had intricately carved arms and a high backrest, practically a throne. Europa was swathed in flowing robes and had the whitest skin Beor had ever seen. Blue eyes gauged him, wise eyes measuring his worth. The matriarch of the Japhethites, said to be older than Grandmother Rahab, looked younger, with fair beauty for one approaching two hundred years of age.

“
Step closer, Beor.”

That she knew his name made her seem even wiser, although he told himself it would have been a simple matter for Tarshish to have told her
. Prepared for the meeting—this Japhethite custom was well known—Beor bowed and said, “I have a present for you, my lady.”

“
Have you now?” she said, studying him with even greater care.

Beor
forced a smile and, from his pouch, drew a fine copper pin. “I forged it myself, my lady. It is my best work.”

She indicated he approach
. And she took the pin from his massive hand, inspecting it. Then she set it on an armrest. “Have you taken refreshments?”

“
Yes, my lady.”

“
Tell me about your journey, Beor.”

He did, describing the various beasts he
’d seen. And he told her how he had slain a lion, snatching a lamb from its jaws. Another time, he’d slain a bear.

“
You are brave.”

“
Jehovah gave me the courage,” he said.

“
Ah,” said Europa. “And it seems that you are well-trained, giving glory where it is due.”

Beor
smiled, with strong white teeth in a black beard. “My grandmother has seen to that.”

“
Rahab?”

“
Yes, my lady.”

“
Tell me about her.”

Beor did, glowingly
. He was fond of Rahab, and he honored Ham.

Europa rose from her chair, stepping down from the dais, moving serenely to a stand
. She poured from a stone pitcher, bringing him a cup of wine. She toasted, and they sipped.