Flood: A Wife for Shem

By Laurie Boulden

Merial, of the village of Amon Ra, looks to the fields and forests to escape the wickedness that prevails in the lives of the villagers. What she finds there offers more than she could ever hope. But those she cares about remain trapped in the village, and Merial will have to choose to join with the protected family of Noah, leaving the others behind, or be destroyed with all who remain of her kin.
A Wife for Shem takes readers on an incredible journey through a world condemned, aboard the rudderless ark upon the waters of a worldwide flood, and into a changed world where life begins anew. It’s more than the romance of Noah’s middle son, it’s the love of God for his creation and the path to redemption.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Laurie Boulden
• Release date: Sep 4, 2015
• ISBN: 9781941733363

Laurie Boulden

Laurie Boulden resides in Lake Wales, Florida. When she is not creating stories in her head, she works as an Assistant Professor of Education at Warner University. Family and friends are an important part of her life, as is her church, Trinity Baptist.

Book preview

IN A WORLD CONDEMNED

CHAPTER 1

The night air shook with screams. Merial sucked her thumb, clenched the rough fabric under which she hid, and forced her eyes to remain open. Something shuffled along the dirt path on the other side of the wall to her back. Her heart pounded, tears rolled from her eyes, and she sucked harder on her thumb, trying not to make a sound. Rithi, where was Rithi?

A thud startled her, eyes popping open. Were they here? Had the evil ones come? She couldn’t breathe. She held her little body as still as possible. Maybe they wouldn’t notice a lump beneath the pile of rags.

The whisper of fabric against the floor, someone moving. Light steps. Merial gulped. She pulled the cover from her face. Night was dark, but the slender shadow looked familiar. Merial stumbled to her feet and raced across the floor. Rithi yelped as she collided with her, and then familiar arms engulfed her. Warm, comforting arms. Merial buried her head against her sister and sobbed. Rithi pressed kisses into her hair and forehead, rocking her back and forth.

What are you doing, child? Rithi’s breath tickled her ear.

Merial shivered. I scared Rithi. Monsters…. Monsters and screams.

Rithi’s arms held her tighter. They have gone, Merial.

Merial stared at the darkness and shivered. Rithi began to hum. Music draped around them, sending the fear away. Merial blinked, unable to tell if her eyes were open or shut. Rithi shifted, wrapping a blanket around them both. She lay in her sister’s arms, encased by melody, and slept.

Raised voices startled Merial awake. Rosen sat up on the mat beside her. Rithi and Mother? Rosen grinned. Merial looked at the door, chewing her lower lip. Their voices did not make her smile. They sounded harsh. She crawled closer.

Let me take my sisters with me. You can have all the rooms. Rithi stood outside the shelter. Mother blocked her way.

Take them? Stupid girl, take them where? Into the wild where they get torn apart by monsters? They stay here. They are mine, they will fetch a good price.

Merial rubbed her pudgy fists against her eyes. Rithi couldn’t go. Mother swung a pitcher and Rithi stumbled away. Merial ran to the back of the shelter. She pushed the broken board and slid through the opening.

Rithi, she screamed. Where was her sister? Her body shook as sobs tore her throat.

Merial, Rithi fell to her knees beside her.

Merial flew against her. Rithi cried out. She pulled Merial to the side and held her arm against her chest. Merial pushed her thumb into her mouth.

Rithi kissed her hair, shushing her. I am well, Meri. I have found a haven. At least I think I have.

Merial blinked and looked up at her sister. Rithi’s chin trembled as she brushed her hand through Merial’s tresses. What made her sad?

Stay. Merial blinked.

Rithi smiled, although tears fell from her eyes. I cannot. You will understand one day. Go to the woods. There is a family that lives beyond. They will protect you when the time comes.

No. Rithi stay. Why was she crying? Merial patted Rithi’s cheek. Her own eyes dripped. You stay with Meri.

She shook her head. The woods. Say it Merial. You will go to the woods and I will find you. The trees are huge. You will see them when you visit the witch’s hill. You will see the trees and remember to come to the woods.

Trees? She didn’t understand. I go now, with you Rithi.

You must not. Mother will not allow it. She would harm those who would help us. Rithi pulled her close. Remember. Remember what I tell you, Meri.

Woods. She sobbed, repeating her sister’s words. Trees. Merial shook her head. No wait.

Rithi smiled and kissed her cheek. You are safe for now. Not four seasons old, little one. She pressed her hand against her cheek. Come before they hurt you. Now go back. Rithi held the wood plank to the side. Hurry, before it is too late.

Merial allowed herself to be pushed through the hole. The plank slid back into place. She stood for a moment, looking at the gnarled scrap. Rithi was going. Her chest hurt. She hurried to the front of the shelter. Rithi wouldn’t stay away. She would come back. She needed her. Merial sat in the open way and waited.

CHAPTER 2

5 SEASON’S PASSAGES

Merial jerked her hand, but Mother held fast, scrubbing the purple stain with a pumice stone. Blood splashed in the dirt, and Mother released her. Merial held her injured hand close as she fought the tears burning her eyes. She whimpered as Mother pushed her away.

Get next door. Have her bind you.

She ran from the room. Rebca's house smelled like lavender, plumes longer than herself hanging from the rafters. With the room empty, she sank to the floor and leaned into the corner. It hurt. She cradled her wounded hand. She blinked tears from her eyes as she rocked herself. A variety of plants hung throughout the house. Could she remember the names? Plethora, with its tiny white flowers. Garmin leaves. They had thorny edges though the leaf was wide enough to wrap herself inside. Baskup. The thick tubes could be ground into a powder. The women used it when their bodies bled. Saffron. It had reddish leaves. They used it to dye weaves. She looked at her injured hand. Elser flowers could also stain.

Merial looked for the purple flowers she'd help pound that afternoon. They were already gone. Something else lay on the table. She moved from her corner. A long slab of dark brown, about an inch thick, lay there. She tried to lift it, but it was too heavy. Deep ridges cut into the darker side. She rubbed her fingers across it. Rough. From where had it come? She'd never seen anything like it when Rebca took her into the fields to collect samples.

I sent you back for the day. Rebca entered the shelter. A tall, dark-skinned woman, she placed a bundle on the jars lining the wall beside the open way. A deep blue turban wrapped around her head hid most of her hair.

Merial held up her arm. Can you wrap it?

Rebca tisked as she took her wounded hand. Though the blood had thickened, skin had been dislodged from its natural place.

Merial liked the feel of Rebca's hands. The smooth topside felt like webs of silk worms that gathered in the hills. Though she had never seen the worm, its silk created a shimmering weave worn by those who worked in the temples. Rebcca's palms were rough, hardened by numerous seasons gathering and studying the herbs of the earth. She moved away from Merial, opening one of the clay pots on a high shelf. She dipped her fingers and rubbed the oil on Merial's wound. The sting jolted her body, and her hand went numb. Tension eased through her shoulders.

Come. We must wash it first. I will wrap it with tafra leaf. It will stick to you, so let it come off. Do not pick. She dipped Merial's hand in a pitcher of water and washed the blood away. Merial felt nothing.

With the wound repaired, Rebca frowned. You will no longer be able to work with me, child.

No. Merial's heart cracked. She needed to be here. It is good to pass your knowledge to another. You say I am swift to learn.

It isn't you, child. It is that woman. She waved at the wall separating their shelters. Next time she will harm you worse.

I like here. You teach me plants. How they heal.

Rebca sighed. I should have taught you the God who created them.

What is this look? Rebcca's eyes deepened to near black. There were secrets hidden in them. What secrets?

Rebca stepped closer to the table and ran her hand across the odd plant. You felt it?

Merial followed her to the strange plant. Yes. It is nothing we have collected.

No. She touched it.

Again, Merial did not understand the expression that lit Rebca's face.

Noah offered it to me. A tiny smile touched her face, as though she shared part of her secret with Merial.

Merial stepped closer. What is it?

Gopher wood. Bark from a tree. Tell no one. She placed an arm around Merial, and lowered her voice. This is a special plant. I will study its nature.

Is it a secret? Merial rubbed her hand on the bark.

Noah is of the despised.

Mother is ready for your return. A shrill voice interrupted them.

Merial spun. Her sister, Rosen stood in the open way. She turned to Rebca. Not yet?

Rebca's mouth thinned. Go. She nudged her.

I may return tomorrow?

Rebca frowned as she looked first at Rosen, and then Merial. She nodded.

Merial’s heart lightened. She skipped across the floor and followed her sister where she did not want to go.

Raised voiced traveled through the thin wall. A knot in the wood, long punched through, provided a glimpse into their shelter. Who argued with Mother?

They are too young. The sound of her mother's voice caused her hand to throb.

Take them to the temple. A man’s surly voice made her swallow hard.

The temple? Merial could hear disdain in her mother's voice. To what purpose? Sacrifice for the gods? For the priests? I'll sell them myself when they are of age.

I want-

Merial heard the sound of flesh hitting flesh. She winced.

Their price will be higher if they remain unspoiled.

Something slammed against the wall, the peek hole blocked. She yelped. The others didn't notice.

You are not unspoiled. The man growled and fabric rent.

Merial ran to the far side of the house. She sat beneath the table and watched the sky turn colors until darkness filled the empty space above their shelter. Mother moved through the rooms lighting lanterns hanging on the walls of their shelter. She stopped beside a fresh vat of wine and scooped her cup through the thick liquid.

Rosen slid beneath the table, bumping her knees against Merial's leg. She held a Caimen fruit in her hand.

Merial's eyes widened. Where did you get that?

Rosen bit into the fruit and a light purple juice dripped onto her chin. She grabbed Merial’s skirt.

Stop, Merial pulled back. Rosen was stronger. What if Mother noticed? She looked out. Mother had moved to the back room, one hand holding the lit candle, the other a mug from which she drank. She faced Rosen. You took from the table. She kept her voice low. Mother would be furious.

I took nothing. Rosen whispered. With a wicked grin, she tossed the half-eaten fruit at Merial and shouted, you took it.

Merial scrunched her nose as the sticky side splattered across her garments and her hands. She gasped as something gripped the back of her dress and yanked her from beneath the table. The Caimen fruit rolled onto the floor with a wet thud.

Rosen scrambled to her feet across from her. Mirth burned in her eyes, until Mother swerved in her direction. Merial watched a look of innocent horror fall like a mask across her sister's face.

Mother turned to Merial once more, shaking her. You thought to take what was mine?

I did not. Her head jerked to the side as Mother's fist connected with her cheek.

Do not lie.

Merial trembled. Do not cry. She bit the inside of her lip, trying to take shallow breaths. No crying. Mother pulled her closer. Merial could smell the pungent flavor of wine on her breath. She stared at the scratch on Mother's neck, too scared to lock eyes with her.

Punishment for you tomorrow. I have entertainment tonight. She pulled Merial across the room to the cellar door. After lifting the wood boards that were fixed together, she shoved Merial through the opening.

A moment of air rushed around her, and then she hit the hard ground, rolled, and stopped with a gasp. Dust flew into her eyes. She rubbed them.

Rosen hopped into the cellar and sat cross-legged. Merial turned to the opening. Light cast her mother into silhouette.

Stay put. If you leave before morning, the Nephilim will find you and steal you away. With a grunt, Mother slammed the door closed.

Merial could see the shadow of her sister in the stale space beneath their shelter. Too many times in her nine seasons had they been forced to wait in the cellar. She didn't like it. The damp made her skin shiver. She crawled closer to Rosen.

Rosen faced the doorway. Another year and I can stay above. With them. Not you. She laughed, her voice dropping. You will remain in the dark alone.

I do not like dark. Merial rubbed her bare arms.

Get used to it, little sister. The dark is all around us. Rosen’s voice twisted with derision.

Stop it.

Rosen leaned closer. Best not move too much. Those creatures leftover from creation could be hiding nearby.

Merial reached across a basket of drying apples to grip her sister's arm. The shadows seemed to move and she shivered. We should run to a safe place.

Rosen pushed her away. Where? No place is safe from Nephilim.

To the woods. It was the place she knew to say.

The woods? They hide in the woods, making themselves look like trees.

They do not. Her voice rose. Rithi said the woods are safe. Rithi would not lie to her, not like Rosen.

'Rithi's dead, stupid girl. Rosen hissed. They tore her into bits and pieces until the wild men gnawed her bones."

Merial cried out. They did not.

A foot pounded against the floor above them. Both girls silenced as dirt showered through the musty air. Merial heard laughter, and the floor thundered as people stomped over their heads. Debris filled the air, and she coughed. Her eyes watered as she noticed Rosen crawl further away. She did not care. It was the filth in the air choking her that caused tears.

Rosen made a low laugh. They come, Merial. Her soft voice carried across the space. Better hide. Rosen continued to throw taunts as other rumbles sounded above. A lyre played and a drum created an incessant beat. People danced. They fell, thumping the boards. Someone screamed.

The noise made her shiver. Her stomach cramped. Merial crawled until she reached the wall that ran beneath the house. The coarse stone was cold to touch. She patted her hand a little further along the wall and found a hole. It felt as though several rocks had fallen out. What was on the other side?

She lurched back as a hideous face glared in her mind. She went around the hole and continued. The rock soon touched the outer wall of their shelter. The top of the space was close enough for her to reach her hand up and brush her fingers against the wood. She closed her eyes and imagined it was a tree. A real tree standing in the earth. It reached down and wrapped around her, hiding her.

Remember the woods. A soft voice whispered from her memory. The woods, Merial. There are people who can help us. Then the voice began to hum.

Merial's arm drifted to the ground as sleep overcame her. She dreamt of woods.

Morning arrived by the time she awoke. The cellar cover had been dragged open and light flooded the space. From her corner, the ground sloped downward. Baskets sat close to the opening, except for a large one in the opposite corner from where she'd slept. Several boxes stacked against the outside wall crumbled. Merial made her way along the stone wall until she found the hole. It was large enough for her to crawl through if she wanted. She lifted the upper part of her body onto the broken wall and stuck her head into the other side. The space was dark. Its air smelled fresher.

Her stomach growled. She dropped back onto her side of the wall and crawled to the doorway. She put her hands on the edge of the opening and pulled herself up until she could peek into the main room of the shelter. One of the walls was stacked with Mother's storage, overflowing with fabrics and bits of worn clothes. A table pushed against the cluster had a set of bowls. One bowl lay upside down. A feral cat licked at the drips of creamy liquid coming off the table. That was probably mine, she sighed. Neither her mother nor Rosen remained. The cat streaked from the shelter as Merial pulled herself onto the plank floor covered with dirt and thick leaves. The other bowl on the table was empty. Her stomach growling again. She flopped to the floor and reached into the cellar. Her hand hit the basket and she grabbed a pair of apples. With fearful glances toward the other room, she hid the apples in a pocket of her dress. The other space remained quiet and shadowed. Merial ran through the doorway leading outside.

She raced along the worn path leading to the planting field. The morning mist would feel refreshing after her night in the cellar. She could feel the hard bump of apples as her feet struck the ground. She paused at an intersecting path. She looked down as dirt turned to mud and oozed through her toes. As she watched, wispy clouds rose from the ground. The thick mist soon obscured the road. She could hear something move. Indecision made her rock on her feet as her teeth pulled on her lower lip.

Merial surged across the open area. Too late. She crashed into a figure and the two of them rolled onto the muddy ground. She scrambled to her feet. More figures stepped from the mist. The face of a familiar boy taunted her as he tried to catch her arm. Merial darted away. They blocked her path.

Merial, Merial what do you cry? The cursed ones came to spit in your eye. They will tear off your head. They will eat out your heart. We can all enjoy your late night lark. The trill of chanting voices echoed through the air. She tried to run. One of the older boys pushed her into the dirt. She yelped as a sharp stone cut her hand. Evil laughter swept over her, and Merial cringed away from his leering glance.

A strong voice broke through the noise. Leave her be. We have enough trouble without you bringing in curses.

Stay out of this, Jermi. The largest boy barked. Merial glanced from one to another, holding her breath.

The slightly older Jermi winked at her, encouraging her smile. He was rail thin with short dirty blond hair striking out in all directions. He carried a wood-carved flute tied to a strap across his shoulder. He pushed through the crowd and reached for Merial’s hand. She is my friend. Merial accepted his help and allowed him to pull her to her feet. She rubbed her sore hands against her side. With grunts of frustration, the band of boys chased each other around a bend in the path.

She felt the fierce pounding of her heart as she watched them disappear. What is it that makes them so hard?

They cannot hear music. Jermi pulled his flute from his shoulder and placed his fingers over the holes. He winked at Merial.

What music?

Jermi blew into the wood stick and strange notes flew from it. Merial opened her mouth to speak. No words came. Her thoughts raced. How? Where did… it was not noise, it sounded… she searched for a word. Pleasant? She could not keep her giggle inside. How?

Jermi shrugged. He played a twitter of notes. Laughter bubbled through her, and the stone that had lodged itself in her throat cleared away. Something light filled her. The sounds of the flute caused her legs to bounce. As he continued playing, they walked into the food field, and Merial twirled. Jermi continued to play as mists rose around them. The wet fog did not stop the sound. She twirled until she fell to the ground, gasping for breath. Jermi’s face looked bright with delight as he allowed the instrument to fall against his chest. He sat beside her in the mud. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the apples. With a shy smile, she held one to him. He held his hand open and she dropped the apple in his hand with a smile. Jermi smiled back.

The next day, Merial remained inside the shelter until full light of day sent the mists back into the ground. She stood in the doorway, conflicted, stepping outside and hiding again at the slightest movement. When she ventured under the mantle that framed the doorway, she noticed someone peeking around the edge of the row of shelters. Her body froze for a moment. Him. The blond-haired boy brought a smile to her face.

Jermi, she whispered, feeling lighter. She skipped in his direction.

The two of them slid exhausted down the wall of the village well after chasing chickens through the series of shelters. Other children had joined them, their shrieks bouncing through the village. Their numbers had dwindled, and now the two of them remained.

If you are ten seasons, why do you not play with the boys?

I do not like them. Jermi shook his head, a fierce frown bringing a smile to Merial’s face. They are too serious, always seeking paths of destruction. I like my music.

You should play for Mother and Rosen. Perhaps they would like it as well.

Not many people do. Odd, how everyone fears the monsters, and yet our behavior is just as bad.

Do you think everywhere is the same? Could there be a place that was different?

Jermi shrugged. This is the only place I have been. Furthest I go is to the witch.

Merial glanced around, making certain they were alone. She leaned closer and whispered, What about the forest? Are there people living among the trees? Do you hear whispers?

Not much comes from the woods, not much good anyway.

Merial’s eyes widened. Have you seen anyone?

Cannot say I have, although some talk about a crazy old man.

Merial leaned closer. Who could he be?

Jermi shrugged. Probably not true.

Jermi’s face lightened as he jumped to his feet. He pulled the flute from his shoulder. Dance for me, Meri. He began to move his fingers as he blew into the instrument. She reached up with one hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet. She held on to his hand, laughing at his attempt to play with one set of fingers.

Play ended as the sun moved to the distant horizon. Merial waved her hand behind her as she raced for the relative safety of her shelter.

CHAPTER 3

Many weeks passed. A season of florets in the grasses had come and gone. Merial felt as though she were blossoming. Her friendship with Jermi was like nothing she had ever known. His quick wit and ready smile made her laugh, delighted her.

Come on, Meri, the witch is telling stories tonight. Jermi encouraged her to go with him. His enthusiasm was hard to ignore. She nodded, excitement and concern generating flutters in her stomach.

The two of them fell in with a group of youth winding their way through the twisted paths of Amon Ra. Dilapidated shelters dispersed as they traveled further. Merial paused for a moment at the rock wall. She discovered her feet were eager to move forward onto unfamiliar ground. Courage bolstered her as she chased after Jermi.

The fresh air tingled with unknown scents. They were climbing higher. She could see the growing fields to her left. Further still, bushes towered over her and she could no longer see Amon Ra. She returned her attention to Jermi. He faced her, walking backward. His fingers seemed to fly on the