that this only made her husband look even shorter, because she immediately dropped her head again.
I had no right to pity her. Unlike me she had a husband to serve. But I was sorry for her nonetheless and said a little prayer for her to the gods of happiness, wealth, and fertility.
If I ever did manage to win the favor of one of the Nephilim, no one would have to pray for me. I would get to ride away on one of his shoulders, holding a lock of his legendary purple-tinged black hair, while my neighbors stared up at me in awe.
Despite my secret wanderings after receiving my father’s good news about the Nephilim’s poor sight, I had never seen one. And so it was with great anticipation that I peeked my head around Noah’s shoulder.
CHAPTER 7
MY HUSBAND’S TENT
T o my disappointment, I saw only trees.
Someday soon I hope to see one of the Nephilim and have him look upon me and find me ordinary and unmarked, no different than any other woman. Gods, is this so much to ask?
“You see how God provides for the righteous,” Noah said.
My disappointment faded, though not completely. “Are those your trees, my lord?”
“They are mine, but their gifts shall be ours.”
And what gifts! There were bunches of dates hanging heavily from beneath a palm’s long leaves. Nuts from another palm decorated the dirt. Leaf-shaped pieces of shade lay sweetly upon the ground. Yet somehow the horde of women and children’s voices continued to grow quieter, and when I looked back, I saw that they did not follow, but instead grew smaller and smaller as we traveled away from them.
“My lord, how do you keep the neighbors from raiding your bounty?”
“Any man who tries to steal from me risks his life. If he takes one of my sheep or goats, it will bite him and cause him to stumble so that he falls and breaks his neck. If he steals from my well, he will tumble in and drown. The God of Adam also watches over my trees. He riddles their leaves with thorns so that only I can reach between them for the fruit. You will sometimes hear people thudding to the ground, and these are the wicked who try to steal our fruits. The Lord sends poisoned juices down the bark when thieves come near.” These were as many words in a row as Noah had spoken to me, and I hoped they were true.
The ass huffed in indignation as he was forced to step on the nuts that lay in his path. But he continued until he reached the deepest shade of the palm trees, where, abruptly, he came to a halt.
“We are home, child,” Noah said.
In the morning shade of the palm trees was a small tent. Noah’s tent.
I waited for his command. “We are home,” he repeated. “Get down.” I dismounted as quickly as I could, considering the raw state of my hindquarters. Noah dropped the reins and climbed down in front of me.
The trunks of the trees were too large to tie a donkey to without a long rope. Noah did not seem concerned. He took the riding blanket and saddlebags off the animal. The donkey sat down, and I could not blame him.
I, however, would not sit down again for as long as possible. Before journeying across the desert on Noah’s donkey, I had spent most of my life standing, squatting, or lying on my side. My hindquarters were so thoroughly chafed that I would have to sleep on my stomach for many nights. If I could manage to sleep in a town so full of barbarians.
A herd of goats and another of sheep grazed on the first patch of grass I had seen all day. I had never observed goats so close to a sleeping tent, but perhaps Noah had no choice. If the women wanted to tear off my tunic, then they might also risk being bitten and stumbling upon their heads in order to tear the wool off Noah’s sheep and roast the meat beneath.
Noah gestured at the herd. “You will gather their milk and wool,” he said.
I did not want to be outside the tent long enough to do either. I would have to find a way to get out of these duties.
“Come,” Noah said. I followed him past a
I had no right to pity her. Unlike me she had a husband to serve. But I was sorry for her nonetheless and said a little prayer for her to the gods of happiness, wealth, and fertility.
If I ever did manage to win the favor of one of the Nephilim, no one would have to pray for me. I would get to ride away on one of his shoulders, holding a lock of his legendary purple-tinged black hair, while my neighbors stared up at me in awe.
Despite my secret wanderings after receiving my father’s good news about the Nephilim’s poor sight, I had never seen one. And so it was with great anticipation that I peeked my head around Noah’s shoulder.
CHAPTER 7
MY HUSBAND’S TENT
T o my disappointment, I saw only trees.
Someday soon I hope to see one of the Nephilim and have him look upon me and find me ordinary and unmarked, no different than any other woman. Gods, is this so much to ask?
“You see how God provides for the righteous,” Noah said.
My disappointment faded, though not completely. “Are those your trees, my lord?”
“They are mine, but their gifts shall be ours.”
And what gifts! There were bunches of dates hanging heavily from beneath a palm’s long leaves. Nuts from another palm decorated the dirt. Leaf-shaped pieces of shade lay sweetly upon the ground. Yet somehow the horde of women and children’s voices continued to grow quieter, and when I looked back, I saw that they did not follow, but instead grew smaller and smaller as we traveled away from them.
“My lord, how do you keep the neighbors from raiding your bounty?”
“Any man who tries to steal from me risks his life. If he takes one of my sheep or goats, it will bite him and cause him to stumble so that he falls and breaks his neck. If he steals from my well, he will tumble in and drown. The God of Adam also watches over my trees. He riddles their leaves with thorns so that only I can reach between them for the fruit. You will sometimes hear people thudding to the ground, and these are the wicked who try to steal our fruits. The Lord sends poisoned juices down the bark when thieves come near.” These were as many words in a row as Noah had spoken to me, and I hoped they were true.
The ass huffed in indignation as he was forced to step on the nuts that lay in his path. But he continued until he reached the deepest shade of the palm trees, where, abruptly, he came to a halt.
“We are home, child,” Noah said.
In the morning shade of the palm trees was a small tent. Noah’s tent.
I waited for his command. “We are home,” he repeated. “Get down.” I dismounted as quickly as I could, considering the raw state of my hindquarters. Noah dropped the reins and climbed down in front of me.
The trunks of the trees were too large to tie a donkey to without a long rope. Noah did not seem concerned. He took the riding blanket and saddlebags off the animal. The donkey sat down, and I could not blame him.
I, however, would not sit down again for as long as possible. Before journeying across the desert on Noah’s donkey, I had spent most of my life standing, squatting, or lying on my side. My hindquarters were so thoroughly chafed that I would have to sleep on my stomach for many nights. If I could manage to sleep in a town so full of barbarians.
A herd of goats and another of sheep grazed on the first patch of grass I had seen all day. I had never observed goats so close to a sleeping tent, but perhaps Noah had no choice. If the women wanted to tear off my tunic, then they might also risk being bitten and stumbling upon their heads in order to tear the wool off Noah’s sheep and roast the meat beneath.
Noah gestured at the herd. “You will gather their milk and wool,” he said.
I did not want to be outside the tent long enough to do either. I would have to find a way to get out of these duties.
“Come,” Noah said. I followed him past a
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