People of the Ark (Ark Chronicles 1) by Heppner Vaughn

Author:Heppner, Vaughn [Heppner, Vaughn]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2010-06-11T04:00:00+00:00

4.

Chemosh was a surprise. It reminded Laban of an overturned anthill. There was boiling activity, furious movement, running here and running there, madness in motion.

The old stone walls had been demolished and the houses flattened. Lumber, stone and marble from the ruins had gone into massive piles, almost entirely used up by the time Laban arrived. Now a pall of dust and smoke hung over the new city, over the entire vale. Chemosh was located in a bowl-shaped depression, with a ring of low hills around it. The dust billowed from legions of slaves as they dragged colossal quarried stones. Smoke funneled into the heavens from a hundred fires as men dried green wood into seasoned lumber.

Ymir had collected slaves, driven by whip-wielding overseers and spearmen of Nod. Charioteers patrolled the low hills, while huntsmen tracked any escaped slaves. The poor wretches in the labor-gangs preformed grueling grunt-work, dragging and lifting massive blocks and setting the foundations for incredible plinths, obelisks and temples.

Performing the skilled labor were hosts of carpenters, stonemasons, bricklayers, sculptors and woodcarvers. Keeping them tooled, supplied and content were numberless bronze-masters, metalsmiths, quarrymen, leatherworkers, rope-makers, bakers, brewers, actors, singers, storytellers, harlots and charlatans claiming to be able to cure any ill.

Through Ymir’s conquests, silver and gold poured into Chemosh. Now it poured out in a torrent almost as fast, to pay all these workers.

A vast tent city circled the works, as if they laid siege to it. In one of the tents, Laban stored his possessions. The second day, Ebal introduced him to his foreman, a freed slave. Thereafter Laban hammered on a gargantuan feasting hall for Ymir and his Slayers. It was a hall named Valhalla. It had many doors and arches. Sculptors and woodcutters had adorned it with images of wolves and eagles. Laban overheard that on completion Valhalla would hold thousands of shields, mailcoats and wooden beasts, representing the battlefield and the grave.

Not all his time went into construction. He gawked at the sights and listened to many weird philosophies and new religions. Seen from Noah’s perspective, Chemosh was wicked. Sexual immoralities ran the gamut from fornication to adultery to homosexuality and even uglier. Worse, hundreds of slave-cultists worshipped Queen Naamah. She participated in the services and was known as the Harlot Mother. Shame was unknown at Chemosh, an alien concept. Lewdness abounded and passions ran amok.

To resist infidelity, Laban concentrated on work and, surprisingly, found comfort in Prophet Zohar.

On the ninth day, as Ebal and he sat outside a booth, a skyclad (naked) old man with a skeletal torso and a long white beard shuffled past as he spoke with a spearman.

Laban snorted and almost spilled his soup. “Where do they dig up these people?”

“That’s the Prophet Zohar,” Ebal said.

“Him?”

Ebal slid off his stool, grabbing Laban by the arm. “I’ll show you.”

Laban tossed a shekel onto the counter, and they followed the skeletal old man past the city of tents and to a huge old, oak tree. Others also followed, trying to eavesdrop on the conversation.

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