Chapter 6 - Contention

Semjaza trailed Tubal-Cain at a brisk pace as they rode horseback through the southern plains of Edenia toward the Tribunal seti. He allowed Tubal-Cain to lead even though he could have easily overtaken him—the human was obsessed with being first. The other Watchers followed his example, riding fast, but staying a respectable distance behind.
Semjaza was a skilled leader, if not a patient one. He tolerated the cumbersome method of travel because it gave him a chance to think. How shall I bring up a truly delicate subject, without causing alarm? Semjaza wasn’t nearly as irritated with Hazazel and Yamezerak as he had led them to believe. In fact, he appreciated the timing of their impetuousness. “If they hadn’t blundered, I would have no reason to approach the Sons of Adam.”
“Neshtu, neshtu.” Semjaza cooed in the horse’s ear as he gripped the mane tightly. The animal slowed. Could it be true the Ancient One created these lowly beings to rule not only the earth but also the heavens one day?
Since he’d been assigned to Adam’s Realm to guard these creatures against the Fallen, he had more encounters with the exiled servants of Lord L than he’d ever had in Heaven’s Realm. Just a few months ago in human time, the Great Leader had even approached him personally.
Semjaza had just dispersed the companies of Watchers under his command to their posts throughout Adam’s Realm. It was hard not to be honored by the unexpected visit on Mount Arata, even though the Great Leader was no longer in the good graces of the Ancient One. And Semjaza was only a captain! No one of his rank would dare approach even an ex-member of the High Council without invitation, especially not Lord L who’d also held the office of covering Cherub. Even so, he’d planned to ignore him as instructed.
But the Accuser had said something that caught his attention. It was an intriguing question really. Absurdity indeed! “Yet,” Semjaza conceded while he watched Tubal-Cain charge further ahead, “he might have a point that deserves reckoning.” Memories of that conversation pricked his conscience—
“Why do you suppose the Ancient One has not granted us offspring?” the Great Leader asked almost rhetorically. “The men of flesh produce children after their own likeness just as the Ancient One does. Yet, we men of fire and spirit have none, although we are fully equipped to do so. Even as we speak, some son of Adam is reproducing through his help-meet—another pleasure we are to be denied—might I add. Soon they will populate this entire realm. Then what? Shall this lowly life form become greater than we sons of God who were from the beginning? Captain Semjaza, you are a reasonable man. Consider my point. I have committed no great crime other than to state what is obviously true. I have only the highest regard for the Ancient One. I only wish He regarded us enough to give us freedom as He has the humans. Perhaps the Ancient One is afraid of our freedom.”

In retrospect, Semjaza was embarrassed at his lack of a response. He hadn’t even tried to defend his Father. The Ancient One afraid? Never! Complete absurdity. He would never withhold any good thing from us, would He? We would be allowed to have children too, at the right point, and with a comparable companion such as the woman, if that was necessary.
Of course, we would.
Semjaza had put the ridiculous idea completely out of his mind until last night. Tubal-Cain’s quest made him think. If the Sons of God were indeed compatible with these creatures of dust, it just might work—they could redeem the humans and fulfill their desire to procreate. Maybe this was the will of the Ancient One.
“Peva!” Semjaza spoke briskly into his mount’s ear. He tightened his grip on the long white mane, urging the animal to gallop full speed. “There is only one way to find out.”

###

How did I get down here? Enoch stretched. Faint memories of strange voices, lights, and a garden of glowing men faded as he regained his bearings. Rushing water churned nearby, sending a fine mist his way. The jagged cliffs of Avenland peaked through the treetops into the soft orange glow of sun’s birth. Praise the Light! The stranger must have led me through the cave to the valley.
Enoch grabbed his sack, stuffed to the brim with alroue, and made his way toward the river. If he made good time, he could reach the Tribunal seti by sun’s peak. Enoch washed quickly in the cool waters, never taking his eyes off the precious bundle. Funny. I could have sworn the alroue fell out my pack. He shuddered. The memory of the dark, winding tunnel returned and his gratitude for the stranger. I hope he comes to the celebration.
Everyone came to the annual harvest festival. The sons of Adam and daughters of Eve were numerous now—only the wisest Elders and Medici healers could recite the them all. Most were too busy toiling in the fields and with seti life to pay attention to genealogies and such. But once every sun cycle, they made time to remember and reunite.
Enoch increased his pace to a run, anxious to hear the tales that would begin at sun-sleep: the creation of Father Adam and Mother Eve, the tale of the speaking Serpent who deceived, the mysterious Cave of Hidden Treasures, the birth of Cain and Abel and—well, tempers always flared when Able was remembered and Father Cain condemned—again. Six generations later, the tribe of Seth resented Father Cain and his offspring even more. Enoch sighed. Things could have been so different had Cain heeded the warning.
Enoch sped past the woodland boundary panting, and fuming. “Dedici, let’s work together—” his cousin said. “Let’s be friends again.” He lied! Tubal-Cain’s treachery in the woods all but ended his hopes of the clans uniting again. Tis a shame too. All Cain’s offspring didn’t show disregard for the Ancient One. Naamah is the fairest of all the daughters, and gentle too, so unlike her thick-headed brother Tubal-Cain.
Enoch sighed. He might have pursued a union with Naamah, but the Elders of Seth discouraged it because of their marked one. So, he chose Dinah, a good woman of Seth’s lineage instead.
“Dinah is a fine wife,” Enoch encouraged himself. “Full of life and a wise Medici, indeed.” How many times has she soothed my aching limbs with one of her fragrant baths? Too many to count. Yes, Dinah is a fine wife.
Enoch ran from those thoughts, dashing as fast as a gazelle through the plains. Back home. Back to Dinah. He sighed. Something inside protested—but she is not Naamah.
“Enough!” he reprimanded himself. “Why meditate on what can never be? Focus.”
Enoch zipped past the rolling hills. The familiar surge of Light energized his limbs as he neared the seti. The sack full of alroue knocked rhythmically against his back keeping time with his steps.
Thudump-thudump-thudump-thudump.
The ground beneath his feet rumbled.
I know that sound. Enoch risked a quick glance behind. Horses! They were coming from the rear at full speed.
“Praise the Light!” Enoch almost stumbled when he saw the unmistakable figure of Tubal-Cain on horseback—and he wasn’t alone.
Enoch threw his head back and forced everything out of his mind: the challenge, the ailing ones waiting for the alroue, even his own desire to win, and concentrated on just one thing—running. With each step the faces of his people and their hopes for deliverance returned.
Thudump-thudump-thudump-thudump-thudump.
The fence surrounding the compound beckoned.
His heart pounded as if his chest would explode.
Elders adorned in bright robes chanted in the distance, cheering and waving their arms.
The horses kicked dust around him.
The scout blew the horn of triumph.
A young boy of no more than thirty ran up the lookout post, grabbed a banner and held it high, waving it in large arcs.
Tears of relief flowed down Enoch’s flushed cheeks.
The blue flag with the ivory lion whipped in the wind—it was the banner of Seth.
Enoch collapsed and kissed the dirt. “Thank You Hidden Father!”

###

Father Seth led the Council, weaving his way through the crowds, toward the commotion at the seti gate. As the shouts grew louder, he stuffed his heavy headdress under his robe and tucked the loose strands of his silver mane behind his ear. His wife said the absence of color from his hair made his line-less face even more pleasing. She said the weighty adornment was worth every bit of discomfort for the order it commanded. “Come now woman,” he scolded Azura, “I am an old man now.” He protested, but she shoved the covering on his head anyway and said it never hurt to dress as if there would be an occasion. He took it off as soon as she was out of sight. “That woman!”
“Looks like the seventh delivered after all,” a council member congratulated him. “Wise choice indeed.”
Father Seth beamed—his tribe’s banner was flying high. Azura was right! “Well done, Enoch—"
“I demand an audience!” Tubal-Cain raised his fist, still winded from the hard ride. “I appeal to the High Council. The Ancient One has favored me with a great revelation.”
“I have proof of the Ancient One’s favor.” Enoch grasped a handful of alroue and waved it in the air. “We weren’t sent to get a revelation!”
“That’s tellin’ him Enoch.” His fellow trackers slapped him on the back at the sight of alroue.
“I can’t wait to get me hands on some!” A giddy Medici shouted and did a somersault. The festive crowd hooped with delight.
“Aye, woman! Do two more like that and I’ll give ye some of mine,” an elderly man hollered.
A group of youths lifted Enoch into the air, tossed him high and chanted, “He sought, and fought, and got what he ought!” 
“Enoch!” Tubal-Cain shouted over the ruckus, “the alroue you gathered will one day run out. Then what? Another dangerous trek to the forbidden lands? No, I swear by the Ancient One, I have found something better.”
“What could be better than alroue, Tubal-Cain? It is a gift from the Hidden Father. You should be grateful He granted us more. Why sulk as your Father Cain would? I have met the challenge justly. Admit it, cousin. The Ancient One chose me.”
“I say they settle this like real men,” Tubal-Cain’s father yelled, tossing him a spear.
“Fine.” Enoch dropped his sack and whipped out his dagger, “You can call me Bearer after we mend your wounds with alroue.”
“If you live that long,” Tubal-Cain said, jabbing at Enoch.
The crowd was so captivated by the anticipation of a challenge, they didn’t notice Father Seth until he donned his colorful headdress and pounded his staff on the ground—the people parted like wheat from chaff.
“Enough bickering!” Father Seth tapped the sack of alroue with his rod. “Was the quest for naught? Enoch returned with alroue—first. The issue is settled.”
“You may have found alroue. I’ll grant you that,” Tubal-Cain said. “But I have discovered the fulfillment of the prophecy and a permanent cure for the sickness. These men will prove it.” He beckoned the impressive riders, waiting on their mounts behind him.
“What do these men have—” Enoch said.
Light flooded the seti as if someone snatched the midday sun from the sky and threw it to the earth.
Enoch covered his eyes, dropping the alroue he’d held up in victory just moments before. The light was coming from the men on horseback—they sat so noble and unyielding, some people began to bow.
The rider on the white stallion dismounted and raised his hand, diminishing the light instantly. As he walked to the center of the mob, more tribesman kneeled, while Tubal-Cain stepped back, allowing the man in the fine robe to speak.
“Greetings brothers. I am Semjaza of the Elohim. Please, do not bow to us, for we are not so unlike yourselves. We too, serve the Hidden Father. If you will grant us an audience with your Elders, we can explain. We know of the curse invoked by your father Adam and his wife Eve and the prophecy the Ancient One has spoken. There is a way to overcome the curse and defeat the Serpent. But we must work together.”
“We know not of your comings or goings, nor of your kind,” Father Seth stepped into the middle of the circle, silencing the whispers. “Yet, it is the way of our people to listen before judging.” Father Seth spoke slowly, emphasizing each word as he stared down the rowdy crowd. “The High Council will hear the appeal at the Circle of Unity.” The other Elders donned their headdresses of authority too, making them appear almost as tall as their visitors. Looks like Azura’s been busy—that woman always was wise. “Sebassi, please welcome our guests and provide for their needs.”

###

Seth’s order sent maidens with worn leather bands around their waists scurrying, while two young men dressed in similar garb appeared silently to aid Semjaza’s men with buckets of water and food for their horses. “After you have been refreshed, Semjaza of the Elohim, our sebassi will escort you to the Circle of Unity.”
“Your graciousness is welcome like the dew upon dry petals,” Semjaza said with a nod. At his cue Hazazel, Yamezerak and the others dismounted to follow the sebassi to their accommodations.
One of them, a dark-haired woman, approached Semjaza quietly and offered a cup of steaming liquid. He turned to dismiss the servant girl. “Much gratitude to—”
“The pleasure is mine.” As the woman curtsied, long dark hair tumbled in waves over her shoulders. “Do you require anything else?” She waited with her tray still outstretched.
He concealed his surprise with a friendly smile. “Not yet.”
Semjaza studied the woman until she blended in with the other sebassi workers preparing a long wooden tray laden with fruits, vegetables and freshly baked aloti cakes.
“What has you so distracted?” Hazazel said.
“What?”
“I have been trying to get your attention,” Hazazel said. “Didn’t you hear me calling you?”
“Well, what is it?” He continued watching the young woman busy at her task until she drifted from his sight.
“Will we stay through the eve? Our accommodations are quite acceptable.” Hazazel led Semjaza into the oversized shelter where Yamezerak already sat with the others drinking a cup of bittersweet.
Yamezerak passed him a mug of steaming brew. “So, no harm done, Captain?”
“None at all. Your error may prove to be my great fortune.” Captain Semjaza leaned back onto the cushions and raised his mug to his comrades. “Here’s to progress!”

###

“Quick! Find cover,” Azam whispered, pointing to a small grove of trees.
Onami and Delmar slipped into position as the men on horseback dismounted and followed the humans to a large tent.
Captain Azam settled himself as comfortably as he could considering the numerous weapons concealed in his robe. Knives, daggers, swords, and even axes for chopping, were neatly strapped down by a series of strings so Azam could access them quickly with a simple tug on the belt cinching his robe. Those who did not know him saw the elaborate sash as mere decoration, an extravagance of an overzealous angel. Those who did know him, knew better.
“Looks like Semjaza and his men,” Onami whispered. “Why are Watchers gallivanting around in plain sight of humans?”
“They could have special orders, I suppose,” Delmar said.
“They would have to be special orders indeed to be so bold.” Azam tensed. Captain Semjaza was speaking with a distinguished human adorned with a golden sash and headdress.
“What is he saying, Azam?” Delmar said.
“Can’t tell. I could access the One Mind, but that would alert Semjaza—he is adept at recognizing signatures.”
“Exactly,” Delmar said. “Semjaza is known for stealth. He is a keen one.”
“Why can’t we just—” Onami stared at the branch where Delmar had been.
Only two rapidly changing, golden eyes could still be seen. Delmar’s limbs meshed into the tree’s branches. “I say, quite admirable, Delmar. Very creative.”
“We don’t want Semjaza to spot us.” Delmar pressed his back into the tree, completely camouflaged.

###

Lamech seethed as he searched for the strangers lounging in the Soka’s tent of honor, waiting for an audience. His craggy face showed no signs of rage, but his tongue said otherwise. He waded through the maze of tents, swearing all the way. “Cursed fool, couldn’t even find alroue!” He passed the white dwellings of the youngest family branches. “My dog could have done better!” He took a shortcut through the tan and blues, housing those with at least two generations of offspring. “Idiot—that’s what he is!” Lamech ranted as he jostled the red and purple tents of the Elders of Edenia. Finally, he barged right through the green shelter of the Medicis—every tribe possessed at least one—but at the annual harvest all the Medicis combined their tents, forming a protective band around the thirty-three golden Soka. He snagged a few figs from the Medicis’ stash as he exited their shelter into the revered inner courtyard reserved for the seed of Eve’s womb.
“Cursed Tubal-Cain—fool!” Lamech eavesdropped a while, then spat at the Soka tent before he stalked away. “He should have brought alroue—not guests to be served!”
Lamech’s wives scattered at the sound of his black mood and foul mouth. The two women dropped their bulging pots full of laundry and leftover stew and fled to the safety of the lesser tents. 
Lamech ignored them. “Foolish women—a nuisance if any.” 
He gripped the rod of Cain tightly, pressing it firmly into the ground as he made his way to the Circle of Unity in the heart of the Soka’s sanctuary. Now that his son had failed the tribe, their present options were bleak. His plans to rule Adam’s Realm—for his tribe’s sake, of course—would now be delayed if not completely ruined. With Tubal-Cain selected as the Bearer of the Seed, he would have provided counsel and guided his son, gently of course, from the background. 
“Cursed fool! These Elohim had better prove themselves or I will kill the fool myself.”