Escape from Enoch

Part One

The Tale of the First City

The line of Seth had been fruitful, and multiplied, as was commanded by the Lord. In them flowed the blood of Adam and Eve, and they were mighty and wise. They strode across the earth from west to east, and north and south, save to the wilderland of Nod. There they did not venture, there they did not look, there they did not speak of. They raised walls against it, as they were told, but the stones did not forbid Caine. And after an age in the wilderland, with only the spirits for company, he returned.

In those days, the line of Seth made a golden throne and a jeweled crown. These they offered to Enosh, the firstborn of Seth, first man born beyond the light of the Garden. But he was wise, and refused them, even though he was also proud, thinking himself by right the king of men. “I will go forth into the desert and seek the One Above’s counsel for six days and six nights. And if I receive a sign, I will return as your king on the seventh day. But if I do not, I will return on the seventh day and choose one who is worthy to rule, and ye shall give him the crown.”

So he went forth alone, out of the city into the desert, and there Caine found him. And Caine ensnared Enosh with words and with magics, and bound him, and drew him down into the darkness, and gave unto him the name Enoch. Enoch returned unto the city with Caine, and taking the crown, he placed it upon Caine’s head. And some among the wise were afraid, and others held back their arms, for the mark of the One Above lay upon Caine, the black sun. But many among the fools bowed down before Caine and called him a god and freely gave to him their faith, as should not have been.

So the curse of Caine bore fruit three-fold in the darkness, and to the three were added many in the darkness. In those days, Caine was like unto the father and the king and the god of Enoch. And the three were his children and his servants and his counselors. Their names were Enoch and Irad and Zillah. And the many were his stewards and his captains and his warriors. They were called Abzim and al-Mahri and Arikel and Buryi and Ennoia and Hakam and Humru and Ilyes and Loz and Malakai and Malkav and Nergal and Ninmug and Ravnos and Saulot and Sutish and Tzim.

Part One - The Fields

Who do you stand with?

“The wind whips, the sun burns, and the ground swallows us all in the end,” Tzer whispered. It was not prayer, but it was as close as the young slave could come to beseeching the silent One Above. Everything he had, he had won with his own strength and skill. Everything except his name, which meant pebble. That had been given in mockery by one of his masters.

“Quiet,” one of the others hissed.

There were a score of them in all, twenty slaves under the watchful eye of a bloodthirsty overseer. With Tzer in his particular task were his best friend Pherek, a diminutive and sullen outlander named Za’ir, Qots, a warrior who had lost most of his left foot to a wolf attack but managed to survive and endure all the same, and Aleh, who was fantastically old for a slave – he had seen almost forty years come and go. Their masters had set them to digging a ditch in the hills below the city. It was brutally hard work, even with stone tools instead of bones lashed to poles. Hard but crucial, as the overseer said even when one of the lords wasn’t there to survey the work.

When done, the ditch would become a channel to bring water down from the higher hills to the fields of the lowlands. The fields were constantly expanding, more or less in pace with the city’s population. They didn’t grow much aside from a dry, spiky grass that grew high and made bland but sustaining gruel. The lords called it bar-tal, son of dew, but to the slaves, it was bar-yeza, son of sweat. And why not? The sweat of their brows nourished it as much as the morning dew, if not more.

“Always more mouths to feed,” Aleh said after they’d almost finished the day’s work of digging and clearing.

Tzer smiled viciously. “More mouths to feed and more veins to bleed.”

Pherek furtively glanced to see if the overseer had heard the reckless words, but the hulking brute gave no sign of it. “Quiet,” Pherek hissed. “Think of your girl, if you don’t value your own life.”

Tzer glared at him. “What? Girl?”

Now it was Pherek’s turn to smile viciously. “Everyone knows.”

“It’s true,” Aleh said. “Everyone knows.”

Tzer thrust the spade into the stony earth with an angry grunt. The others laughed.

That sound made the overseer look at them, suspicion in his dark eyes. He stared at each one in turn until he was satisfied the mirth hid no mischief.

“The wind whips, the sun burns, and the ground swallows us all in the end,” Tzer whispered again as the five of them continued their work. Like all of them, he was strong and well well-muscled beneath his scar-riddled brown skin. Endure or die, that was the only true law of Enoch. He had black hair, although with his head shaved like every other field slave, only his eyebrows gave that away. Unlike the others, he was tall, as tall as a lord.

“Faster, hill dogs,” the overseer snarled after a while. “And doubly fast, hill rat,” he added with a contemptuous look at Za’ir. None of them knew if Za’ir’s stature, just two cubits (a full 18 inches shorter than the shortest of the other four), was some cruel quirk of nature or if all his tribe were like that. He never said, hadn’t told them which of the First Children he claimed as ancestor, hadn’t even told them his proper name. The mocking name Za’ir, small, had been given to him by the masters, just like Tzer’s.

“Better a rat than a vulture,” Za’ir said.

“What did you say, rat?”

“He said you’re a vulture,” Aleh said, stepping between Za’ir and the overseer.

Before any of the others could think, let alone react, the overseer lashed out. With devilish speed and darkling strength, he threw his spear at the old slave. The long, barbed weapon pierced Aleh clean through and fixed him to the ground.

“Don’t,” Pherek hissed to Tzer as he tensed to strike back, to help Aleh, to do something. “Think of your girl.” He laid a hand on Tzer’s arm and gripped him tightly. The tension melted from Tzer’s limb, but he still felt the rage.

“Drag him off and leave him for the vultures,” the overseer said after wrenching his spear free. He and Za’ir were both splattered with Aleh’s blood. Za’ir flinched and the overseer trembled a little, not in fear but in a sick sort of ecstasy. Then he licked the stone blade of the spear, barbs and all, and trembled again before snarling at the slaves and snapping a command.

Tzer blinked. “What?”

“I said do it now,” the overseer hissed.

Pherek tightened his grip on Tzer’s arm and pulled him back. “Aye, master,” he said.

Tzer blinked and let himself be manhandled without resisting. That might have been what the overseer had said, but it wasn’t what he had heard.

Instead, he had heard another voice entirely, a woman’s voice, unfamiliar, deep, strong, echoing strangely.

She had said Who do you stand with?

***

Hurray! You made it to the end of the chapter — I hope you enjoyed it! Please let me know what you think. Thank you!