People of the Flood (Ark Chronicles 2) (19 page)

22.

Ham amputated. It was a grisly affair. He drank that night. In the morning, bleary-eyed, he looked for Kush, finding him hard at work.

The smithy shed was gloomy, with a hot glow from the furnace and sparks flying as Kush wielded his mallet with metallic clangs
. Two of his grandsons blew through tubes, keeping the furnace hot.

Ham went to the pitted table and picked up a bronze arrow
. Both the shaft and the head were made of bronze.

Kush dourly eyed him before tapping out the next arrow, picking it up with tongs
. Hisses rose from its water-bath.

“
I take it these are for the dragon,” Ham said.

Kush grunted an affirmative.

“No one will be able to shoot such arrows far,” Ham said.

Kush told the boys to go outside
. When they had left, he said, “What does that matter to a brave man?”

Ham waved the arrow
. “Outside of thirty paces, these will be useless. Twenty would be better.”

“
Agreed.”

Ham snorted
. “Easy to agree to in a smithy. In the dragon’s presence, it’s another matter.”

“
Not if you’re brave.”

“
Dragon-awe overwhelms even the brave.”

“
Heat and a beating makes good bronze. In such a way adversity creates heroes.”

Ham regarded Kush in his heavy leather apron, with his white beard and broad dark face
. Kush was strong, ox-like in his movements and usually so in his deliberations. Stubbornness formed the core of his personality, and he listened, Ham knew, to the ideas and plans of his wife Deborah.

“
Tell me this,” Ham said. “Are the arrows for you?”

Kush stared
as an ox might. His thoughts were hidden. One wondered if he had any at all. But that was deception.

“
Put wishes to use them,” Kush said.

“
Ah. And I suppose you’ve encouraged him in his quest for vengeance. You need someone to sacrifice himself. To run in close and shoot these into the dragon’s belly.”

“
If the brimstone fails and the dragon breaks through the wall, we will all go down fighting.”

“
Why are you so certain the dragon is coming?”

Kush
’s flat nostrils flared. “Didn’t Noah once know the Flood would come?”

“
Jehovah spoke to Noah,” Ham said. “Has Jehovah spoken to you?”

It took three slow blinks before Kush said,
“I have work to do. So if you could come to your point.”

“
Tell me how you know the dragon is coming, and I’ll be on my way. Or is this simply one of your wife’s plots?”

Kush considered his words
. “The dragon approaches. That is my premonition. I prepare, and I urge everyone else to do likewise.”

“
I see. May I take several of these?”

Kush nodded.

Ham selected the straightest and then took his leave.

23.

Ham left the cultivated fields and traveled beyond the regular pastures. Over hilltops and past forests, he wanted to get away from thoughts of amputation and lost grandsons. In time, the donkeys plodded up a stony slope. He was far from the settlement. The chariot topped the rise, and before him spread a ledge which dropped all the way to the valley floor.

Hobbling the donkeys
, and as gusts ruffled his beard, he stretched. The view was fantastic. Below, wisps of clouds spread out forests, lakes, swamps and streams. Dot-like creatures, deer perhaps, moved beside the largest river. A bigger animal, a great sloth he suspected, shambled across a plain. Eagles wheeled below him.

He thought about many things
. Then he squinted. He shaded his eyes and peered more carefully. Off to the left, far, far away, two goats crawled up the cliffs. Only, since when did sunlight flash off goats as from metallic weapons?

It was difficult to make out, but it seemed as if two men scaled the cliffs
. There, reflected sunlight flashed again, like a spark. A polished bronze axe-head might have done that, or a dagger. If they weren’t Nimrod and Eel, then the pair came from either Japheth or Shem. Yet it didn’t seem likely that visitors from afar would choose such a difficult route. This was something two men trying to shortcut a dragon to the settlement might do.

Ham ran to the donkeys, took off the hobbles and traveled along the ledge until he saw that
, indeed, a dark-skinned fellow and a smaller olive-colored one scaled the cliffs.

He waited, marveling at their daring
. The cliffs weren’t vertical, but they were steep and chalky, crumbling at times to the touch. He didn’t hail them. He didn’t want to break their concentration. At last, Nimrod threw a brawny arm over the edge.

“
Hello,” Ham said, who sat cross-legged, waiting.

Nimrod almost lost his grip and fell back
. Then he heaved himself onto the ledge and lay there panting. A moment later Eel levered up. He looked worse than before: haggard, with his forehead-scar white and dark circles under his eyes.

“
Water,” whispered Eel.

Ham ran to the chariot and uncorked his jug.

Eel’s hand shook as he drank. Both their garments were torn and dirty, stained by sweat and blood. When he was finished, Eel handed the jug to Nimrod. Nimrod guzzled, and he flashed that famous smile of his.

“
It isn’t wine,” he said.

“
What happened to the dragon?” Ham asked, corking the jug.

Eel and Nimrod exchanged glances.

“You have your chariot, I see,” Nimrod said. “Might we catch a ride?”

“
Whenever you’re ready,” Ham said.

Nimrod grunted
. He seemed as hale as ever; a little tired perhaps, but nothing more. He gave an exhausted Eel a hand up.

“
Should I hurry?” Ham asked, as they clambered into the vehicle.

“
It’s time to ride like the wind,” Nimrod said.

24.

The sun, bloated, squat and red like blood, sank into the mountainous horizon. Strange colors warred in the sky, pink, wispy clouds that bled into an orange background. The first stars appeared, perhaps aided by the breeze that blew in the dusk. There, on the far edge, night crept nearer.

Riding under this skyscape, the chariot crested a rise, barley fields on either side
. The panorama leaping into view surprised the old graybeard driver. He drew rein. The smaller man beside him groaned. Nimrod whispered, “We’re too late.”

The dragon, the nightmare monster, lumbered toward the settlement
. Its tread shook the ground. Its roar—dogs ran with their tails between their legs and a little girl stumbled in a parody of a run. Looking back, screaming, falling, getting up, falling, crawling and sobbing for her mommy, she tried to flee the monster.

The palisade
’s main-gate opened. Three men dashed out and ran a board over the trench. One of them sprinted across the board for the little girl. He hollered. But she couldn’t hear and didn’t see him.

The dragon bellowed, insuring that the little girl s
at transfixed like a rabbit, watching and waiting for her doom.

“
We must attack,” Nimrod said.

“
Attack with what?” Eel asked.

Nimrod spied Ham
’s black bow. He strung it and flipped back the chariot quiver’s flap. His brow rose as he drew a bronze arrow. “This will work.”

On the plain, the father reached the little girl, scooping her into his arms
. She hugged his neck and he turned and ran with his prize beyond price cuddled next to his chest. Behind him roared a monster.

“
Get out, Eel,” Nimrod said. “We have to travel light.”

“
No,” said Eel. “I’ll drive. Grandfather can sit this one out.”

Ham took hold of Eel
’s mismatched shoulders and threw him out. “Hiya!” shouted Ham, flicking the reins.

The donkeys bolted down the slope.

“What do you plan?” the patriarch asked.

“
To win glory that will never fade,” Nimrod said, with his eyes gleaming.

Ahead of them
, the father sprinted across the board and through the gate. Four men dragged the board from the trench and retreated. The huge wooden gate swung shut. On the wall’s upper walkway stood a hundred archers and javelin-throwers, eyes stark and staring.

The dragon roared
. It raved. It came upon the settlement like an avalanche.

The men on the walkway shook their weapons and hurled abuse.

“It’s so huge,” Ham whispered.

The dragon dwarfed the wall, although it slowed as it neared the trench
. Arrows arched and rebounded off its hide. Like rain, they came and, like rain, the dragon ignored the showers. It dipped its vast bulk as if examining the trench. It screamed, not in rage or bafflement but a seeming challenge to these puny humans. For in a great bound it leaped across the trench. Its nine tons crashed against the wooden wall. Like matchsticks, the gate splintered and tore open. Men fell from the walkways as others drilled arrows at the monster’s eyes and nose. Bronze-made javelins stuck. A leathery ball struck the monster in the chest. The package thumped and slid down the dragon’s crocodile-like torso. Then the ball exploded with flames.

The dragon screeched like a banshee.

It seemed to flop back, to stagger as flames licked its belly. It stumbled out the gate and into the trench. It screamed again, in pain and hate.

It twisted in the trench, righting itself, and its vast hind legs propelled it out onto the open side of the trench
. Yet at that instant, another leathery ball arched out the broken gate. Whoever governed the onager must have shortened the wick. It burst into fire mid-flight. Blazing flames struck the dragon’s head as it scuttled out the trench.

On the walkway
, men and women witnessed a bizarre sight. It seemed, for an instant, as if the dragon breathed fire. It shook its head, flinging the fire from it. It threw back those awesome jaws, roaring and hissing to the heavens.

Meanwhile, an athletic youth jumped out of Ham
’s chariot. The donkeys refused to go any nearer. Nimrod sprinted toward the beast, the monster, the howling and blinded dragon. The hunter skidded to a halt less then twenty feet from it. Before the settlement, before those on the walls, Nimrod took a wide stance and notched a bronze arrow to the heavy black bow. He drew, shot and the dragon shuddered.

Nimrod twanged again, using all four of the quiver
’s bronze arrows. Each shot thudded into the dragon’s chest where its heart should be.

The soot-smeared eyes blazed murder-lust.

Nimrod turned and ran.

The dragon, with blood leaking from its chest, staggered off in chase.

Ham couldn’t hold the donkeys. They brayed in terror and bolted. But Nimrod sprinted like a man possessed and jumped, catching the rail as the two little beasts ran for their lives. In a large circle they galloped, in a large circle the dragon gave chase. The monster ran slower and slower and blood trickled from its jaws, staining some of its sixty teeth. It coughed worse than before, and one eye had closed shut.

Nimrod slapped Ham on the shoulder, shouting
. Ham nodded. He aimed the chariot back at the settlement. The dragon followed. Nimrod got ready and jumped out, waving his arms before the beast as Ham veered away.

The dragon centered on Nimrod, following its tormenter
. Nimrod ran and leaped into the trench, gesturing rudely at the beast towering and swaying above him.

“
Are you afraid?” Nimrod shouted. “Do you fear me?”

The dragon, peering at him with its good eye, tilted its vast bulk, opening huge jaws to devour him.

Nimrod darted along the deep trench, and the dragon, perhaps dizzy, sick or disoriented, tried to lunge to snatch him. In that instant, the dragon slipped as dirt crumpled under its weight. It toppled into the trench.

Through the broken gate ran Kush, Canaan, Put and Seba and several others
. They dashed along the trench on the wall side. As the dragon struggled to right itself, they drew their bows and fired heavy bronze arrows into it. The dragon screamed, with its jaws pressed against the bottom of the trench and the sound muffled and reverberating off the dirt sides. Zidon and his brothers hurried near. Zidon held a torch. His brothers each carried a leathery ball with a wick. One by one, they thrust their ball near Zidon. He lit each wick. They dashed near and hurled brimstone upon the struggling beast.

The balls burst into vicious flames
. The dragon uttered a sound never again heard on Earth. It was a ghastly, soul-agonizing bellow. Kush and his brothers staggered from the beast with their hands over their ears. The monster’s very thrashing and mindless pain caused it to trap itself. This time, it lacked the wherewithal to right itself. The brimstone, burning with Sheol-like intensity, curled the dragon’s leathery hide and caused blood and bone to bubble.

T
he screaming soon lost its incredible volume. Like a mantis mobbed by tiny ants, the larger lost to the smaller. Man prevailed over the monster, and the idea of dragons would endure forever in legend.