Princes of Mammon

By Asa Stone

Princes of Mammon begins in primeval times when greed, arrogance, and lust for power and domination of people first arose in the character of man. Those traits carried forward to the modern era, when technological advances make possible previously unimaginable power and wealth accumulation.

But throughout history, God has raised up opposition to the blasphemous tyrants who think they are God, who force themselves to the forefront, only fading away to be forgotten. He intervenes directly in the affairs of men as when He destroyed the blasphemous Tower of Babel and confounded the languages of the people. He calls courageous people as the two ancient families who recognized evil in the tyrant Nin-Marada and as the young girl who defied him to his face and later took her place in the lineage of Christ.

God commissions the Medallions of the Far Times to be passed down through the ages to remind the bearers of His ways and to mark them for His purposes. He chooses his servants, sifts them as through a sieve, and purges them with refiners fire as with Sterling Davids whom He laid bare then lifted up again to more lofty pinnacles.

Princes of Mammon is a compelling story of the age-old conflict between the cabals of evil men who seem to prosper in every era and the humble, mostly unseen people God has kept for Himself who do not bow the knee to idols.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Oct 27, 2015
• ISBN: 9781512715835

Asa Stone

Asa Stone, a native of Jackson, Tennessee, has been a Coke truck driver, machinist, youth marketer, newspaper editor, photographer, shipping manager, patent writer, and draftsman. He has been married for thirty-seven years and has two sons. He is a devout Christian. He collects stamps and is a ballroom dancer.

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Prologue

And the Lord God said unto the serpent, Because thou hast done this, thou art cursed above all cattle, and above every beast of the field; upon thy belly shalt thou go, and dust shalt thou eat all the days of thy life: And I will put enmity between thee and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed; it shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel. (Genesis 3:14–15)

Millennia ago, in the dateless past, a swarthy man of large proportions stood at the apex of his ziggurat in lower Mesopotamia and looked upward to where the fluffy clouds and deep blue of the sky seemed to give a definition to the edge of the firmament. He looked upon the wonders of the natural world and knew all to be works of God. But he felt no awe. Feeling such would require acknowledgment of a Creator greater than he. This he would not concede. He preferred to glorify himself and luxuriate in the magnificence of works of his own.

He was Nin-Marada, the Mighty Hunter before the Lord, the ultimate human being of his day. His perfect proportions manifested in a lithe, well-defined musculature. His actions were perfectly coordinated and affected with grace unparalleled. His superior intelligence, great strength, and imposing presence, coupled with extraordinary leadership ability and burning ambition, had enabled him to rise above to dominate the masses. From his shoulders upward, he was taller than all the people.

He stood on a stage formed out of thick stones always set aside on the top level for his use. Before his departure, he would have it disassembled. In this manner he could always say, I have stood higher than any man; no man shall ever stand higher than me. Thus his vanity exceeded that of all the people.

He looked outward and panned the vista.

To the north, he saw the Tigris River shimmering in reflected sunlight as it meandered through the dull, grass-covered plain. Parts of the landscape were flat. Parts of it were gently rolling with small clumps of trees. Plots of cultivation interrupted the continuity of the grasses as far as he could see into hazy indistinctness at the horizon. Looking east, he saw beyond the Tigris and across the plain to rises ending at table lands and progressing to piedmonts, which suddenly soared upward to purple, snow-covered mountains. Looking west, he saw the same except the rises did not extend to great mountains but to a crest where the land extended downward in the same fashion to the plains of the Euphrates River. To the south, he saw an enantiomorphous image of the north. But in that direction a fairly short distance just over the horizon, the land ended at the sea.

The world was young, and Nin-Marada knew of significant concentrations of people only in the land of Shinar, the fertile region he could see most of from his lofty position.

The sum of all that was known about the world beyond was the story of a great flood God had wrought to destroy the world because of its wickedness. When it receded, a mighty ark came to rest upon a mountain named Ararat far to the north. From this ark emerged Noah and his wife, his sons, Shem, Ham, and Japheth, and their wives, eight people God decided to save to repopulate the earth. Somewhere, it was said, the original patriarch and one of his sons were still living though this flood had happened three hundred years ago. The father was said to be nine hundred years old and the son four hundred. The oldest men at the time were three hundred, and they all spoke of this flood God wrought to punish an exceedingly wicked generation. These elders all appeared obviously aged and feeble, and younger men seemed to be aging faster with each new generation. Even so, that is what was said about men who were older than is known to be possible.

Nin-Marada scowled. He felt a jealous rage against the Creator while vainglorious ambition welled up from the depths of his soul.

I will build this tower to heaven and take my rightful place as a god. Who is God that I should be mindful of Him? I will turn all men away from You, he said to the sky.

Ultimately, the brief biblical mention of Nimrod is all that remained of his mighty works, but blinded by his vainglory, the breadth of his contemplation was only the present. He was the foremost man in all the earth.

He intended to reach the heavens because God dwelt there, and he intended to dwell there as well. This one burning passion received the sum of his efforts. Thus, he was a blasphemous man who almost continuously affected a sneer directed toward the face of God.

Nin-Marada was a cunning man. He was a powerful man. He was ruthless. He was a genius. He was handsome. He artfully exploited these qualities to rise to be the foremost man in all the earth and as such to press society into the mold he had designed for it.

He could not see the farthest reaches of his dominion even from his three hundred foot high position. He knew men to be spreading outward. But he did not see them collectively as a wave proceeding outward drawn by a vacuum that must be filled, as God had decreed. Fill the earth, God had said.

No, he saw the farthest individuals as fountainheads of the streams of material and minions flowing inward back to him. Men spread outward, making new land productive, and Nin-Marada followed, appropriating the portion of their increases he deemed necessary. He smiled to himself, warmed by the thought that the men of the earth were dedicated to his purposes, not God’s. He had made it so by his great strength. He could see the fecund land full of produce made so by the many families of farmers who dwelt upon it from whom he took what he needed for his grand scheme. If he wanted more laborers, he went out into his land and impressed them. If he needed more food for his city-based workforce, he went out and took it. And of course he took his pick of the most beautiful women whenever he wished. Thus, though men could always look outward to new lands, they would always know an obligation to Nin-Marada and feel a tether anchored at his great tower.

When Nin-Marada, the Mighty Hunter before the Lord, looked down, he could see antlike figures of the hundreds of laborers arrayed before the base of his tower waiting for him to tell them his inspection was over and they could go back to work. He smiled cruelly as he thought of them, and he pridefully thought how they were there doing his bidding because with his great strength he had forced them off the land and into his city. At the same time, he scorned them for their weakness.

He looked up again and frowned darkly because he could see that, as presently planned, his tower would fall short of heaven. But he was not long daunted because he was a genius so he knew that to extend the height of his tower, all he had to do was widen the base. He knew he could double, triple, or even quadruple its height. It would take more time, but he had plenty. He was a young man and could reasonably expect to live another three hundred years.

He knew once he had ascended to heaven and taken his place as a god, he would have the right if not the obligation to demand the worship of those left below in his former dominion. So he began to rough out in his mind the requirements. He would demand produce and virgins be brought to his altar and sacrificed to him. He would demand for children to be sacrificed to him so the whole body of people in the earth would know to whom they all belonged. He would demand for everyone to participate in rituals to honor him. But this was for the future. For the present times, he thought he would go ahead and start issuing decrees to tell the inhabitants of his dominion—that is, the whole world—how they must live their lives from day to day; especially, they must bring to him on a regular basis a prescribed amount of their goods. No more of this going out haphazardly. No, dictate to the people; make them conform; bend them. Appoint men to go out and make record of all the farms, number all the inhabitants, inventory their possessions, monitor their output, then at specified times, appropriate a tenth part of it.

He knew also that with his tower, he would have control over who could enter heaven. An anxious expectation lightened his heart as he thought of the price he would demand.

The great man savored his reverie just a little while and then descended down below to his earthly realm. He rejoiced in being the foremost man in all the earth and imagining himself foremost in every realm.

What does God think when He sees me in all my strength and glory? He does nothing because He fears. He sees me and knows His days are numbered, said the Mighty Hunter before the Lord.

There is a God. I am not He. But I should be. I will be, he shouted toward heaven.

Tiras pondered the facets of his situation as he inspected his fields. He was well pleased by some yet deeply troubled by others, and the trouble dominated. His demeanor was edgy. Fear, anger, anxiety, and even dread etched his features. Something must be done, but he was not sure exactly what.

Tiras progressed toward the border between his farm and the one adjacent owned by his friend Javal, whom he soon saw approaching through his own fields. Tiras beckoned, and Javal answered with a wave, indicating, yes, I will meet you at the usual spot by the oak.

Presently, Tiras and Javal stood at the appointed place where the neat stone boundary they had carefully laid extended in both directions.

Tiras paced. Javal leaned against the tree.

You are in quite a state, Javal said, easily reading his friend’s careworn features.

Indeed, said Tiras, who turned eastward and pointed at a most unnatural projection rising up from the horizon miles away.

Javal’s gaze followed the gesture and found the same object.

It is a vain thing, said Tiras.

Yes, it is a waste of time and effort, said Javal.

It is an abomination, said Tiras. He would ascend upon it to heaven. From his perspective of only a few feet away, his tower may indeed seem imposing, but from miles away as we see it, it is hardly more than a speck. Why, it does not even touch the lowest cloud. That tower would have to be even ten times taller than it is now just to do that. Surely it will never be tall enough for him to climb to heaven upon.

Javal stood and spat, contempt darkening his mood.

Well said, friend Tiras. How can a mere man, though strong even as Nin-Marada yet still a man, assume to be equal to God? he replied.

Well, the answer is irrelevant. It does not change what is here and now. That is his obsession, and as he pursues it, more voracious will become his appetite for our sons and daughters to labor on it and for our produce to sustain them while they do, said Tiras.

No doubt, said Javal.

Disgust, frustration, revulsion, and anger welled up in the two men and showed in their unsettling, fidgety deportment and the timbre of their voices.

Salvation is obtained through faith, not works. It is a free gift, not earned. It will come through the seed of the woman, said Tiras.

Nin-Marada is the serpent in another guise. Those whom he deceives will be lost, continued Javal.

How wonderful it will be in a place where God will walk and will call me by name and will let me see Him and will let me commune with Him just as He did in the garden of Eden with Adam and Eve before their fall. How horrible it would be to miss this restoration and wander, hidden from God’s face, for eternity, they both said in their hearts.

I will guard this knowledge and defend my precious family from the blasphemy of Nin-Marada, they affirmed in their souls.

Both men frowned darkly as the thought of mass humanity packed together tightly in the dark giant’s unholy city disgusted them. The human density would cause everything bad to fester, from disease to all ignoble passions, and sin would run rampant, they knew. Fetid air, dank hovels, reeking offal, and lack of sewers could not possibly be God’s ideal. Even the wild donkey scorns the tumult of the city. The shoutings of the driver he does not hear.

He calls good evil and evil good. Seeking to become wise, he has become a fool. His ‘enlightenment’ is vulgarity of the basest sort, said Tiras.

Tiras turned away from the tower. Javal leaned against the tree again.

I wonder when Nin-Marada, the Mighty Hunter before the Lord, will come again, said Tiras bitterly.

Soon, answered Javal. But not before harvest.

Tiras was not so confident. Maybe sooner, for he knows of our goods stored up. He need not wait, he said.

As his conscripted workforce enlarges. Faster do his storehouses dwindle, and more often must they be replenished, agreed Javal.

Truly, how long has it been since the last time? mused Tiras.

It was at the full moon before this one, stated Javal. We can expect his return anon.

They both darkened even more. To have their produce taken from them to sustain workers who produced nothing of material value but only a vain, God-hating program diametrically opposed to their own beliefs, they considered tyranny of the most extreme order.

A cloud passed, enshadowing the men. It looked black from underneath, and they could see it roiling. They felt terror in the pits of their stomachs. They shuddered as their train of thoughts arrived at implications.

We must not expect God to much longer stay His hand against Nin-Marada. Surely God will soon make a terrible example of Nin-Marada for all the ages to come. But when God does so, He will be equally as justified if He should smite us down as well, said Tiras.

Javal shivered, for he knew the reasoning of Tiras. The two farmers supplied the sustenance of the workers; thus they could be considered part of the blasphemy. Yes, their property was taken from them by force, but they offered no resistance.

We are part of it by means of our complacency, but God will look beyond our cowardice and see the true feelings of our hearts. God requires recompense, but He also desires to show mercy. He will grant it to us for the sake of the seed of the woman, whom He will bruise for us, said Javal.

I pray you are right, friend Javal, said Tiras.

But Tiras knew that things were going to get much worse before they got better, the grace of God notwithstanding.

Our slavery is inevitable. It is the only logical end to the progression of events we have seen, Tiras said.

The oppression of Nin-Marada is great and will be greater, but slavery is inconceivable to me, said Javal.

It is inevitable, replied a firmly resolute Tiras.

We both know how greedy Nin-Mirada is, continued Tiras. Can he climb to the acme of his tower, look out, and see all the land he does not own and people he does not control and not have an irresistible desire to add our lands and us to his possessions?

You are right, of course. Mighty hunters must continually pursue prey, said Javal, though agreement pained him greatly.

They stood silent a few moments, and tension mounted. Each could sense things unsaid by the agitated bearing of the other. Tiras’s eyes widened momentarily as he perceived the lips of Javal move as if to form a first word. But they stopped just as suddenly, and neither said anything else, though Tiras could clearly see that Javal had been struck by a new thought, or if not an original one, the inclination to share an old one suddenly recalled.

But Javal said nothing else. Tiras decided not to pursue anything further. With that each departed to his own house.

Tiras plodded toward home, the onus of his fears and foreboding weighing upon his mien just as would the physical burden of great, stooping weight. Adding to the trouble was the germ of a plan, the possible consequences of it, the courage it would require on the part of even the youngest, and the daunting physical effort it would demand, not to mention convincing his wife to go along with it.

But quickly, his spirits soared as his family saw him from afar and reacted.

Look, here is Father, Tiras heard a young voice exclaim as he neared his house, a one-story affair made of rounded stones from the nearby Tigris River and floored with beautifully polished slate from the hills.

Beams overlaid with planks hewn and sawn from timber cut from a nearby copse of sturdy oak supported a steady roof of glazed tile. Bitumen grout rendered the tile sheet waterproof, and a slight cant encouraged rainwater to flow into a gutter and thence through scuppers into a cistern. A parapet guarded against accidental fall.

It had been small when he and his wife started their life together, but now, after several enlargements, it was sprawling enough to reflect his wealth and shelter his large family. He smiled as a flock of children accosted him. The older ones, one of whom would soon pass out of adolescence, hung back while voicing greetings from where they stood and continued their tasks around the barns and workshops, thinking such behavior so typical of mere children to be immature and beneath them. But they were glad to see him. The wife and the older girls were in the house.

After dealing with his admirers and bidding them all to come to him, he entered with them.

Hear this, my family, said Tiras heartily. Your weaving is complete by now, he said to his wife in an interrogative tone.

Dear husband, you know that it is, she returned, piqued he dared think it was not. He knew how much she wanted the leopard fur she was going to get by trading her finest linen with the wife of Javal.

Good. Well done, wife of my youth whom I love. Gather it up, and we shall carry it to Javal’s house.

Even now, dear husband? she asked, thinking there were only a couple of hours of daylight left and there was still the evening meal to prepare. Trekking over to Javal’s house and back would push that back to after dark, causing children to miss their bedtimes.

Even now, dear wife, returned Tiras.

He took his irritated wife into his arms. I realize the imposition, and I am sorry. But thoughts have come upon me, and I must discuss them with Javal.

Then go by yourself and do it.

They involve us all, so we should be together and decide together.

Tiras felt his wife tense.

You mean about adding gables to our houses? she said testily, thinking that argument already won.

We could build a flax-drying area to the back, and under that we could build a secret storage area for grain where Nin-Marada would never find it. It would be the perfect disguise, he had said.

We shall continue to dry flax on the roof as it has always been done, she had said.

But we would have so much more room in the house. We could put the children on the second floor, he had said.

There is no reason for that. Think of another way to confound Nin-Marada, she had said.

The second floor is an innovation whose time has come, he had said, and so the argument had gone on.

No, this has nothing to do with that. This is an even greater thing.

What? she demanded as curiosity began to temper her anger.

I think we should remove ourselves far away, as far away from Nin-Marada as is possible, Tiras suggested.

And start completely over, she said, not at all pleased with the thought.

Yes, that is what I said.

But why?

Why do you think? spat Tiras, getting irritated himself.

Well then, let it be as you wish, she replied in not exactly a civil tone but a there will be more discussion later tone.

The wife of Tiras agreed, as befits an obedient wife, but she was still angry. It was not likely to abate any time soon, and she would exact some manner of recompense.

The oldest boy brightened when he received the news and then cast his eyes downward and reddened when he saw both parents notice. Some of the younger children giggled, causing him to blush all the more.

Tiras smiled wryly at his son and cast a sidelong glance at his wife. The boy was oblivious to his mother’s state and had no idea tolerating such ill humors would be a prominent part of his life. Neither had he any concept of how wonderful life with a loving wife could be, would be.

The new thoughts of her husband and their many consequences compounded the vexation of the wife of Tiras. But she ushered the children out the door and followed with two bolts of her finest linen. Tiras walked at her side.

I will carry those for you, he said after prolonged silence.

I will carry them myself, his wife said.

He cringed at the icy tone. I will not force you to do anything, he said.

She acted as if she did not hear, but Tiras hoped she would remember his words later when she would be better able to think rationally and realize that he was not so bad after all.

Get back on the path, she yelled at several of the small children who had strayed.

They returned to the path and ran ahead, pausing to throw pebbles at butterflies flitting about.

Hello, shouted Tiras when they were within hearing of Javal’s house.

Hello, in reply followed quickly.

Tiras and his family proceeded on to the house, where they found Javal and his family arrayed in greeting. The young children were told to play outside and the older charged not to let them stray too far. Tiras and Javal walked out into a field by themselves. The wives went into the house.

Oh, it is so beautiful, said the wife of Javal. It is the finest yet. And the design is so marvelous. How did you ever do this with a loom? How did you ever spin the thread so finely? Oh, thank you so much, she gushed as she felt and admired the linen.

That is a secret, replied the wife of Tiras, still tense. And the leopard skin is just as beautiful. How did you get the leather so soft?

That is a secret, and they both laughed nervously.

You did not kill the leopard yourself, did you? said the wife of Tiras.

Of course I did not. Javal did. That is what men are for.

And what did you trade him for it? the wife of Tiras asked stiffly.

The wife of Javal blushed. I could say, ‘The same thing you traded for the planting, cultivating, harvesting, drying, and beating of your flax,’ I am sure, she replied. But you know our relationships are not purely tit for tat. You know I would prepare you a leopard skin whether you did anything in return for me or not. You would do the same with your weaving, said the wife of Javal, distressed by her friend’s agitation.

The wife of Javal was willing to allow her friend to vent and calm down on her own and patiently waited for it. But when she saw no change in the wife of Tiras, she decided enough is enough.

What is the meaning of this tension you insist upon imposing between us? said the wife of Javal while standing suddenly resolute.

The wife of Tiras covered her tear-brimming eyes and turned away from the wife of Javal.

I am so sorry, she said. I should not have been so rude. I am troubled by plans of my husband, and I was wrong to allow that to cause me to be ugly to you.

The wife of Javal loved the wife of Tiras as a sister and so had been patient with her, never taking offense. She had not been surprised by her friend’s distress. She and Javal had come to the same conclusion as Tiras some time ago. In fact, it had been her idea.

Do not ever turn away from me, said the wife of Javal kindly.

She embraced the wife of Tiras and kissed her cheeks. The wife of Tiras did not relax.

I do so regret your discomfit. But these are perilous times. You know drastic action is necessary. What our husbands decide will be for the best.

The two held each other, looking straight into each other’s eyes.

But we both have worked so hard for what we have, and now we leave and turn it over to someone so evil, the wife of Tiras said.

The next time will be easier. Think how much more help we will have, the wife of Javal replied, referring, of course, to the children.

And what is a material thing? You know it is nothing of permanence. Surely the God who blessed us with all our riches here will bless us wherever we go. And you know God will not much longer tolerate the defiance of Nin-Marada. Do you really want to be around when God’s wrath is revealed against Nin-Marada? We have been a part of the evil, though involuntarily, you know. If we stay, we shall continue to be.

The wife of Tiras was not consoled.

Remember our discussions, continued the wife of Javal. "Remember when we built our houses. Remember how long it took. Remember how long it will soon take as the addition of children will require addition of rooms. Remember how long it took to get your weaving done. Remember how long it took to get my tanning done.

"We know that was so because we had to do all that in addition to preparing the meals, cultivating the crops, tending them and the animals, processing the harvest, and so forth. Now look at our children. Every year from now on, some will have to leave and build their own houses. How are we going to manage to build a new house every year and provide all the implements necessary for a new farm? Then multiply that by all the families we know are out there.

"We need to develop a society of interrelation between people who do only one or two things, not a society of isolated units.

"We know one man with one ass and a millstone could grind all the grain produced by a dozen farms. Why then should there be a dozen millstones standing idle most of the time? One man could mill everyone’s grain and in return keep a portion of it for himself. Thus we would get a service and he would get his sustenance.

"It is the same with weaving. How long do your spindle and your loom stand idle while you satisfy other requirements? One woman who operates her spindle and loom continuously could produce enough cloth for many families, or one woman with a distaff could keep several weavers going. She could weave for others in return for grain or other items she needs and thus make a living.

"It is the same with houses. A few men could build enough houses for many new families if that is all they did. They, of course, would receive grain or other items in return and thus support themselves and their families.

But how can we organize such a society and have it flourish if a tyrant interferes by confiscating our weal while providing nothing of any benefit in return? And where are all the craftsmen we need going to come from if Nin-Marada keeps hauling us off to languish in his unholy city? Plus, Nin-Marada seems to take more of our goods every time he comes. How much longer will it be before he takes everything?

The wife of Javal felt no lessening of her friend’s resolve. The wife of Javal continued. "Then consider this.

Our eldest children are meant for each other, not to be dragged off by Nin-Marada to his horrible place. What right has he to tear apart families? They are both of the age when that is possible, you know. And my daughter is so very fair, much more beautiful than I, or you. I want her as far away from Nin-Marada as possible. I have trained her up for your son, not for that blasphemer’s harem.

Yes, I know, but still …

But still. You have seen them. He not knowing what to say, yet wanting to say it so badly, though so afraid. She so desperately wanting to hear it and furious that she has not and so confused, wondering how she could love him so much yet be so angry with him at the same time. Neither having any idea what they are getting themselves into.

The wife of Javal dramatically increased the pressure of her embrace.

"My daughter is ripening quickly. She will soon be stunningly beautiful. Your son is already as tall as his father. He is already more handsome than any other youth. They both will contrast sharply with their peers. Nin-Marada will surely notice them soon if he has not already.

Nin-Marada will not tamper with this. I will see my grandchildren … all of them, said the wife of Javal emphatically.

The wife of Tiras lowered her eyes and began to cry again.

Wife of Tiras, you will not be losing everything. You will always have me, and the rest. Soon you will have grandchildren. You will be glad Nin-Marada is far away.

The wife of Javal released her embrace.

Let us go and see that our husbands have made the right choice, she said.

Nin-Marada, the Mighty Hunter before the Lord, espied his quarry as he topped the last rise before the land flattened out into the wide alluvial plain of the great Tigris River. He was alone. He always hunted alone because his joy came from physically dominating his prey, and he refused to share that with anyone. Plus, that he needed no assistance with the apprehension of a few farmers affirmed his superiority to them and manifested his contempt for them.

The small band, consisting of only the families of Tiras and Javal, was perhaps a mile distant, and the anger of Nin-Marada surged as he watched them plodding away, four adults and a flock of children with all their possessions borne by a herd of onagers. They seemed a happy lot walking lightly with children skipping through the grass.

The powerful ears of the mighty man occasionally picked up laughter and sounds of delight from the youngsters, and he could imagine the warm feelings in the hearts of adults and the happiness on their faces. The anger burned more hotly, and his craving for vengeance waxed great. Meticulously, he counted them all, taking careful inventory, his keen eyes picking out the forms moving against the waist-high grass of the plains.

Nin-Marada scorned them and their faith while laughing bitterly at the absurdity of it. He agreed they were wretched sinners beneath contempt. But they were weak and pitiful. They could not reconcile themselves to God on their own so they must look to some manifestation of God far in the future, some sacrifice God supposedly promised to take away the sins of the whole world when He confronted Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden after they had eaten the forbidden fruit. They were too stupid to see the salvation offered by the great tower of Nin-Marada, the Mighty Hunter before the Lord. They were too feckless to accomplish their own salvation as had Nin-Marada. They were too cowardly to take from God what they needed.

Nin-Marada seethed even more violently as he concluded, Depend on God to keep some nebulous promise? Serpent? Enmity between thee and the woman? And between her seed and thy seed? You will bruise his heel? He will crush your head? What madness.

They were headed west. They knew God and were interested only in serving Him and each other. They knew the Mighty Hunter before the Lord to be evil. They knew his every utterance to be blasphemous, and they knew the works of his hands to be abominations to the Lord. So they stole away from Satan’s angel, and they would wander until some glade or glen or plain or mountain appealed strongly enough to cause them to stay, or until God gave them a sign.

For the band to be comfortable, it would have to be far away. How far, they had no idea. Beyond a mountain range or even two, perhaps, would suffice. Certainly, they realized that the farther they removed without seeing anyone else, the better. Perhaps, there was another populated area in the beyond wherein there was no Nin-Marada.

Indeed, the world abounded in rivers descending through wooded mountain ranges that had carved out beautiful valleys with broad floors covered with wild grains and fiber-bearing plants and irregularly dotted with groves of fruit bearing trees of many types. Waterfowl, fur-bearing animals, wool-bearing animals, animals for meat, and animals just to gaze upon for their beauty abounded also. Animals for domestication and husbandry for food and leather teemed. The travelers marveled at the bounty of nature and looked forward to the new society they would create, rich both spiritually and materially. They were exceedingly happy as they moved along.

Surely the earth is a vast place, and is it not the will of God for men to spread out through the earth and fill it, have dominion over all that is in it, subdue it? Is it not the nature of man to pursue the unknown?

Nin-Marada was wroth as he watched their progress, for he was the foremost man in all the earth, and the band ahead had defied him.

I am the ruler of the world, he fumed. I demand everyone in my cities to labor as I direct. I cannot allow people to leave if they want. Movement of people is by my whim, not by the will of anyone else. I will bring them back and make an example of them, so others will fear to do as they have done.

He smiled cruelly as he contemplated how horrible this example would be.

Nin-Marada must inspire a healthy fear in all the people. He knew it well.

He continued to stalk, but much more stealthily than before because now the only potential for concealment was in the waist-high grass of the plain, and the lowering afternoon sun would illumine him perfectly if he should raise his impressive physique too high above it. So he proceeded carefully in a crouch, easily keeping pace with the primeval pioneers, easily following their wide trail through the grass. Soon they would be stopping for the night.

Tiras noted the sun nearing the horizon and calculated that there would be just enough light remaining to prepare for the night.

Let us make camp here, he said.

Javal agreed and marshaled the boys, who were acting before he spoke.

Remove the packs from the onagers. Take them down to the river and let them drink their fill. Return with enough driftwood for our fires and enough water for us, he ordered.

Tiras and Javal laid out the camp, arranging the sleeping skins between where the two large fires would be. Of course, God had placed upon every beast the dread of man so they did not generally attack humans; nevertheless, Tiras and Javal deemed it wise to light the large fires and guard against the marauding lions that at that time did live in Asia and tigers, whose roars and growls could be heard in the night. They thought not of other men, for savagery was virtually unknown in that era.

The wives and the girls began preparation of the evening meal where the cooking fire would be.

Tiras and Javal felt the hot wind from the southwest and knew that it portended no rain.

No need for tents tonight, said Tiras.

Indeed not, concurred Javal.

Soon, the boys delivered the water and the wood. They then hobbled the onagers, which grazed happily nearby.

After supper was eaten and happy talk of the new life they would make in a land of their own was complete, the band retired, except for Tiras and his eldest son. These two staked the onagers near the row of sleepers between the great fires. They would stay awake and on guard until the constellation of the great bear swung around the star that never moved in the north sky enough to indicate that half the night was over. At that time Javal and another older boy would relieve them.

The night darkened, but the sky seemed alive as the millions of stars flickered.

When darkness had risen sufficiently, Nin-Marada carefully approached the camp. He crouched beyond the clearing the band had trampled down just far enough away so the flickering light of the fires would not betray him. His wrath had been checked hours ago, as all his mental energy was directed toward carrying out the final stage of his pursuit. Instead, excitement coursed through his being, and his heart quickened in anticipation of the satisfaction soon to come at the expense of his victims. Even so, every muscle was entirely under control, and the excitement did not affect the disciplined mind of the hunter.

At the time judged most propitious, when the man and the boy stood on either side of the onagers facing him, Nin-Marada raised his great bow and released a blunt arrow with just enough force to render the man unconscious when it struck his head front long. The boy, hearing the blow and seeing his father collapse, began a cry of alarm, but before the sound passed his lips, a sharp arrow transfixed his chest through the heart, and he fell lifeless in a heap. The asses stirred in brief unease but uttered nothing as the action was virtually silent save the sound of limp bodies settling to the ground. After a moment, all was completely still again, and he stepped into the clearing.

Nin-Marada passed before the row of recumbent figures peaceful in sleep. The adults were on the flanks with the children in between. Doubtless they all dreamed of good things to come, for strong people they were, capable of working the earth and skillful with talents in crafts and artistry. Industrious people and prolific they were, who would readily produce a society with all the attributes manifest in the genesis band spread out before him. But Nin-Marada did not share the hopes of the pioneers. He saw in them only rebellion to be put down and punished. Anger again burned within him and began to show on his countenance, but a cold, cruel smile formed on his lips as he thought of impending victory.

Nin-Marada crouched at the side of one of the women. He looked into her sleeping face and continued motionless, waiting for his instincts to tell him when to strike.

The woman shifted from her side to her back, and just as quickly Nin-Marada moved atop her, clasping a powerful hand over her mouth and pinning her motionless with his great weight. The woman instantly awoke, and panic shone in her eyes as she recognized the Mighty Hunter before the Lord and foremost man upon the earth. Nin-Marada paused a moment to savor and gripped her mouth ever more tightly while clasping with crushing force in his other hand a hand of the woman in order to add pain to her distress. He paused again to let the tears of the woman roll away, then watched with delight as the pain and terror in her eyes turned to despair when he whispered roughly, Neither move nor make a sound lest your children die before you, lest their screams of terror and pain forever torment you.

The woman relaxed every muscle in submission, and Nin-Marada bound her hands and feet with strong braided leather thongs. He repeated the process with the other adults, but he did not bother with the children. He did not consider them a threat, even all together.

Nin-Marada waited, and soon the eastern horizon began to show the first rays of the new day’s sun. The children stirred in their places and when the dawn was complete, wakened one by one, expecting to continue their journey to a new land they prayed God would show them. They discovered instead a brother dead and trussed up parents lying supine, staring up at a glowering dark giant.

Nin-Marada nocked an arrow and raised his massive bow, drawing to the maximum one hundred fifty–pound pull.

You children may run and be hunted down or you may follow your parents. In the former case, you will die; in the latter, you will live but in ignominy. Choose now, he said to them as they rose.

Undaunted by the fearsome hunter or the glistening, razor-sharp obsidian points on the arrows that never missed when loosed by Nin-Marada, the children chose loyalty to parents. They trusted God to deliver them if it would please Him. They assembled before their captor, some of the younger ones whimpering with all shocked and angry over the loss of a son, brother, and friend.

Nin-Marada then removed the foot bindings of the adults and replaced them with hobbles to force a short, choppy gait he knew would be uncomfortable. Their hands remained tied behind them. Over a shoulder of each man he slung water bags, over the shoulders of the women packs of victuals, enough to last the five days it would take to trek back to the great city of Nin-Marada called Gateway to God. Then he connected them together by means of a supple cord wrapped around the neck of each in tight loops, so that if one should stumble or fail to keep pace, his loop and the ones in front and behind would be caused to tighten. The children he allowed to walk freely, not fearing them, even hoping one or some or all might take flight, giving him once again the pleasure of spilling the blood of ones who dared defy him. The cargo of implements necessary to wring new farms from the virgin earth he left to corruption by the elements. The stores of victuals he left to the beasts and the birds of the air. The onagers he let go to return to the wild as Tiras and Javal would no longer need them. Nin-Marada smiled grimly at the thought, delighting in the alterations of lives and plans he could affect by his strength.

One of the men opened his mouth to speak, but the hunter silenced him with a slap, pressing lips over teeth with force, causing blood to flow profusely. The time for talk would come, but Nin-Marada preferred silence for the moment. Plus, as long as Nin-Marada suffered no one to speak, they would have no release for their grief. It would build up within them and eat away at their hearts.

The Mighty Hunter before the Lord prodded the captives into motion, and as he watched the brokenhearted troop plod disconsolately away to what they knew would be slavery or worse, his soul rejoiced in his victory. His spirit soared as the events passed through his mind, and he savored the stalk, the attack, the terror, the pain, and the despair he had the power to cause.

No one can defy the great Nin-Marada, for Nin-Marada is the foremost man upon the earth. He is a hard man of superior strength destined to rule, reaping where he has sown not and gathering where he has scattered no seed, and of course, taking full measure of vengeance whenever offended, Nin-Marada exulted in haughty arrogance.

He noted the eyes, the window of the soul, of each, seeing contempt and some fear with more fear in the children than adults. Contempt he expected, but fear he needed.

I will do something about the lack, he thought.

The children fell in behind their parents, who walked as proudly as possible under the circumstances, sensing that concealing their true feelings would rob their captor of a great measure of delight. Nin-Marada felt the hatred of the band and saw them struggle to conceal grief and disappointment through grimly setting their countenances. He realized no matter how bruised their spirits might be, their will to wander from his dominion would never be broken so in one sense, his victory over them would never be complete. But oh how the hunter intended to make them pay, and they would serve as an example to others who might be contemplating leaving his great kingdom and control.

Of course, the adults would not long be able to maintain their outward defiance when fatigue would make their heads hang and shoulders stoop and physical pain would be intense. He knew their breath would soon come in desperate gasps, and their tongues would cleave to the roofs of their mouths. Muscles would cramp and rebel against their restrictions, and perhaps their captor would exacerbate the effects by withholding sustenance. Still, Nin-Marada set his reason to the further psychological torment of the band. The hunter must be satisfied at the expense of his victim, and since man possesses intellect, soul, spirit, and volition and beasts do not, the mere physical subjection of the rebels could not possibly be enough. Nin-Marada could allow no man to rob him of his due.

He watched the band closely and counted them one last time, comparing the tally to the mental inventory he had prepared earlier. He had them all, he knew, but he observed them all intending to miss nothing any might reveal. Slowly, the adults shuffled along, suffering more and more the effects of bound muscles, restricted movement, burning sun, and weight of burdens. Nin-Marada knew also the mental anguish of losing one of their children would exacerbate the physical suffering and vice versa. He was getting more and more pleased with himself as time passed.

Every so often, Nin-Marada saw one of the girls lightly brush one eye and then the other, as if to remove a tear. Every so often the girl would take a short, shallow breath through her nose as if to clear clogged nasal passages. Looking more closely, he easily saw the red veins lining the whites of her eyes and the glassy look excess watering would cause. He even saw the almost imperceptible quiver of the corner of her lower lip every few minutes.

Nin-Marada initially scorned the one who seemed weakest, but as he looked further, his instincts told him the weakness was likely not what it seemed. Certainly, the band in general and the children in particular conclusively proved not the type to mourn themselves or their fate.

Oh yes, his acute eyes told him.

The young female walking before him was soon to be a woman. And what a woman she will be, he thought and smiled wickedly, eyes gleaming savagely. The boy killed, whose corpse is even now being ravaged by the vulture and the jackal, was almost a man. It must be, then, this one has lost more dreams than the others.

Nin-Marada moved around the rear of the column, drawing up between the older girl and the man he now realized she strongly favored. He gently touched the girl’s temple and moved his hand backward, stroking the long golden hair. The hunter saw hatred and some fear flash through the eyes of the adolescent in reaction to his caress, and he sensed her father tense. Anger, helplessness, and fear all rushed over the man, and Nin-Marada savored it all. Again he gently caressed the girl, this time allowing his hand to rest on her shoulder while the cruel smile broadened on his dark visage and a vulgar laugh arose from his throat. The man reacted with anguish, and when the smile of the hunter turned to an obscene leer, he cried out and lunged at the swarthy giant between him and his daughter.

The rush had no possibility of success because of the great, iron-thewed stature of Nin-Marada, and the cord around the man’s neck would arrest the assault before it reached the tormentor. Nevertheless, Nin-Marada ended it with a sharp blow to the top of the man’s shoulder across the top of his collarbone, dropping him to his knees with pain shooting through his body.

He turned to the girl and drew her to him.

Perhaps your first man should be the foremost man in all the earth, he said greedily while imagining the reactions of the rest if they should see him upon her and hear her cries of pain.

Do not fear, golden-haired child who is waiting to be made a woman. I do you great service and prove that Nin-Marada the Great shows mercy. After you know the Mighty Hunter before the Lord, you will never again weep for a boy, he said in mock tenderness.

He released her and laughed again, the obscene laugh louder and longer this time, for now he knew the captives had something to dread, had something to hope against hope not to happen, had reason to fear Nin-Marada the Great. Now their fear would consume them daily, and they would cower at every glance of his toward the girl and even cry in anguish should he approach the girl and teasingly caress, stroke, and speak suggestively or leer hungrily. Now, continuously, they would ardently call upon the Lord to deliver them.

Well, let their supplications rise, thought Nin-Marada. I will deliver them to my great city and prove God has not the power to interfere with my plans. I will have my way upon the earth and soon take my rightful place in the heavens.

When it was time to stop for the night, Nin-Marada chose a flat, rocky area near the great river and lit no large fire because he feared no wild animals. He bound the feet of the adults and ordered them to pass the night in whatever comfort they could muster.

The children gathered in two clumps, one composed of the younger situated next to the adults, the other of the older, far enough away to whisper without being heard. Nin-Marada removed himself a distance and sat facing the captives, his back propped against a boulder. He pretended to sleep when the sun set, wondering how long it would take the obvious mutineers to carry out their plan. Nin-Marada had chosen his place of rest with great care, being sure there was enough dry foliage and loose soil about so none would be able to sneak up on him unbetrayed.

One of the women, being served by the same instincts as the hunter, whispered misgivings to the older conspirators who came near to massage the adults’ muscles and to comfort them. But the man Javal rebuked her gently, whispering, They have a choice: to suffer long at the hands of Nin-Marada in his blasphemous great city or to suffer briefly here. Our hearts break that ours so young must make such a choice, but it is theirs to make and they have made it. Let God go with them.

Javal whispered to his wife, Give comfort to the wife of Tiras. Do what you can to help her release her grief.

The children bedded down near the adults, and the oldest girl arranged her sleeping skin so that from her recumbent position she could see the seated Nin-Marada propped against his boulder. His arms hung loosely and folded in his lap. His head tilted back and rested against the rock.

She studied him carefully, but the moonlight was barely enough to see his face. She could see his nose and note the nostrils slightly flare with each breath as his chest rose and fell in slow, regular rhythm. His broad, thin-lipped mouth was closed and slightly turned down, giving his visage a completely deadpan, nonexpressive cast. All indications were that the giant was indeed asleep. But his heavy brows enshadowed his eyes such that the girl could perceive only dark blotches. Thus, she could not tell if they were open or closed.

The eldest girl waited and watched and after noting no change for a seeming eternity, stood facing the apparently asleep Nin-Marada. Seeing her, the other children rose and took up their positions. Some arrayed to her left and right while a group widely skirted Nin-Marada and took up position behind and waited. All clutched hand-sized stones.

Nin-Marada still seemed to be asleep, his sitting hulk visible under the sparkling heavens. When the girl carrying her stone stepped forward, the rest closed in. The plan was for an attack from the front, with the strongest striking the first blow to the temple of the captor. If Nin-Marada awakened too soon, then hopefully the ones at the rear might be able to take him unawares as he was distracted.

With great care the children approached one slow step at a time, meticulously lifting their feet and placing them down without sound. The distance lessened and Nin-Marada stirred not, his breathing deep and regular, muscles limp, and head lying to the side upon his right shoulder and supported in the back by the boulder. The distance narrowed, narrowed, and narrowed yet again as the stealthy, determined assailants stole nearer. Finally, the strongest stood next to the giant and with great hope raised his rock to deliver the ultimate blow. Excitement coursed through the others as they thought of their turn. They stood ready to move in any direction lest the first clout not stun the giant. But as the rock of the strongest began its descent, it stopped suddenly, and the arm of the striker stayed rigid. The stone dropped with a loud crack as it struck a flat rock on the ground. The children gasped in horror, but Nin-Marada made no movement. The others moved to attack but felt their feet planted firmly, and their remaining stones dropped away.

A bright light flooded the scene as a figure dressed in white, seemingly a part of the light, appeared before the attackers. They looked around and saw everyone else asleep and unaware as the figure said, It is not for you to deal with Nin-Marada, the haughty chaser after false gods. The Lord your God will humble Nin-Marada and thus glorify His name. Go peacefully without fear, ready to behold the glory of the Lord as your journey is completed.

The figure, which everyone reasoned had to be an angel, remained in the camp and stood over one of the women.

"This message is for you from God. No one else will hear it, but you will share the first part while keeping in your own heart the second. God wishes you and the wife of Tiras to be comforted, so hear now His word.

The wife of Tiras whom you love has suffered loss, but she must be comforted, for her son is now in a much better place. You will suffer corresponding loss, but it will be so God might be glorified and all the world might be blessed. You had your own plans for the young man and the young woman, but God has even more glorious places for them. As for the rest, you did well to hate the deeds of Nin-Marada, which the one God of the universe also hates. But God did not allow you to move into a new land because He has chosen you for another, greater role. God has seen the love between you and the wife of Tiras and is well pleased. Blessed be the name of the Lord.

As quickly as it came, it was gone, and the children returned to their places to sleep, trusting the commands of him they hoped to be an angel of the Lord.

After another three days, the band came in sight of the great city of Nin-Marada. From afar they could not see the houses or royal palace or business or government structures. But rising into the firmament they could see the tower reaching hundreds of feet upward. Very small it seemed when first sighted, but larger and larger it loomed as the captives tramped nearer and nearer.

Finally, in the afternoon of the fifth day, Nin-Marada and the rest reached the city and drew up a quarter of a mile from the first houses. There was no one about as all the men were at work on the looming tower and the brickworks were on the other side of the city. The women were all in or close to their houses engaged in their usual domestic duties. The mighty hunter commanded the others to kneel at the base of a small ridge while he surmounted it to begin his proclamation of judgment.

I, Nin-Marada, the foremost man in all the earth, builded this city. I builded this city in order to make a name for myself and to exercise dominion over all men lest they be scattered abroad over all the earth. I even ordered bricks to be pressed and burned thoroughly that this tower might be built so when it is finished, I might ascend on it to heaven. I will have dominion over all mankind, and those who in defiance reject my authority to escape away into new lands will feel the harsh judgment of Nin-Marada. You will be an example to those who would wander, so they will remember you and fear to do as you have done.

As the mighty hunter paused to peruse the effects of his words, the young girl rose and with an angry voice said, Vain man. Who are you to defy the living God of the universe who spoke and all things existed; who waved his hand and all things were ordered; who breathed life into that formed from the dust of the earth? It is God who will have vengeance, not you.

The fury of the hunter rose at the challenge, and Nin-Marada cursed God and the band, saying, "Have I not shown myself greater than God? Did not God say, after Shem, Ham, and Japheth and Noah their father went forth from the ark, ‘Blessed be the Lord, the God of Shem: and let Canaan be his servant. May God enlarge Japheth, and let him dwell in the tents of Shem, and let Canaan be his servant.’ Where is the God of Shem to deliver him from my hand? Where is Japheth to enlarge but in the great city I have builded? Is it not I, the son of Cush, the son of Ham who hold all in subjection? Where are the blessings promised by God to the sons of Shem and Japheth?

"And