Babel

                                 ~Prologue~

    At the end of three long, bloody days of rioting, looting and killing the population of Babel, the capitol of the world, was diminished to one hundredth of its original size. The caravans of people still departing speckled the horizon for as far as the eye could see. Fire and smoke were reflected dully in the blood red water of the Tigris as countless bodies floated down towards the sea which, with hissing, crashing waves like a hungry beast, accepted them. Piles of bodies were left to the fires rather than buried. Everyone had left or was leaving and yet the violence could still be seen as roving bands of men attacked stragglers, killing, pillaging and taking whatever they pleased. This had been going on for three full days. Three full days of lawlessness and carnage which had torn Babel, the grandest city on the earth to pieces and had scattered its remains to the corners of the earth. Now it resembled one great funeral pyre as the pillar of rising smoke darkened the sky for hundreds of miles around. A sky which three days ago contained the awe inspiring figure of a tower built so tall, it pierced the clouds. This mighty ziggurat of immense proportions was intended to link mankind to the heavens and had taken years upon years to build, over several generations. The last stone was quarried at the Royal Quarry upstream from Babel and was floated down stream on the finest royal barge ever to float upon the Tigris. It was actually one of the few used in building the tower since most of it had been built of brick. It was hand picked by the High Priest and chiseled out by the finest stonemasons in the entire world. It was a large, solid mass of pure marble and was polished until you could see your reflection in it. The best goldsmiths in the kingdom worked for weeks inlaying it with the purest gold and setting the most precious gems into it. Finally it was brought to the base of the tower in a wagon made of the finest cedars, pulled by four immaculately white heifers. The entirety of the religious order was there to receive it, including the high priest and the king. It was carefully removed from the wagon and placed in a sling set on poles which twenty priests hoisted onto their shoulders. The whole procession gradually made their winding way to the top of the tower as the crowd of millions of people waited in anticipation at the base. The city had been built around a large plain at the center of which stood the ziggurat. The plain and surrounding city was packed full of people from every corner of the earth, there to admire and worship at the tower. The hillsides surrounding the city were covered by the makeshift tent cities of the people who could find no room in the city. You wouldn’t have been able to find any room in the city for months now. Every inn was packed to bursting. Every house that had space was occupied. Even shops and market stalls were let out by their owners to pilgrims who were willing to pay the steep prices. Now the human ocean spread from the base of the tower to the furthest reaches of the city, wherever you were able to catch a glimpse of the tower was filled with people. Not a human sound could be heard when finally the procession reached the pinnacle of the ziggurat. The stone was ceremoniously lowered into the space left for it at the very peak. The high priest commenced the incantations and all the priests joined in while the king and his entourage stood by. Trumpets rang out from the summit of the tower and were echoed below by the sound of bells, tambourines, flutes, drums, and whistles. The clamor was so deafening that nobody noticed when a clap of thunder rang out in the heavens, though no lightning or clouds were to be seen. The ground trembled, temporarily lowering the volume of the crowd which now clamored louder in response. Suddenly a bolt of fire shot from the sky above the tower, consuming everyone on the top, leaving the crowd, finally, silent. The peak was still blazing as the whole spire shook mightily and began to tilt over. The crowd pushed to get out from under it in a mad stampede that left thousands dead, crushed to death by pounding feet. The tower crumbled and toppled at the same time, smashing anyone unfortunate enough to be caught under it and as it fell, a mighty wind blasted the city. Every tree bent under the force of the blast and the dust raised got into every eye and nostril left uncovered. The sky over head quickly became blackened by large storm clouds which appeared out of nowhere and spread to cover the entire sky while a heavy rain and hail beat down on the city unmercifully. The lightning which flashed all around was the only light which shown on the doomed city.

    I was there in the midst of the city where it all began and the story I’m about to relate is about what happened that day and what followed afterwards that would lead me and my people from that accursed place.


                   ~Chapter 1~

    “Where are they?”
I frantically thought as I was swept along by the human tide in its mass exodus from the plain surrounding the tower. I had been separated from my family almost as soon as the mad rush began. The last glimpse I had of them was of their panicked faces as they were torn apart by the surge of bodies. The frightened look on my mother’s face haunted me as did the last word I heard her cry out.
“Jared!”
    My name still ringing in my ears, I was pushed further and further from were I last saw them. The expression of resolution and strength on my father’s face gave me a little spark of hope that maybe they would be okay and that I might see them again once the crowd was calmed down and we could make our separate ways back to our house. I didn’t want to think of what might have happened to my little sister who was with us at the time when the stampede began. She was six, eleven years younger than me and small for her age. I quickly prayed that my parents had held on to her and kept her from the merciless, pounding feet of the frightened crowd. But I had little time for these reflections as I had to keep moving and pushing to keep myself from the same fate I feared of my sister. People were shouting around me. Shouting perhaps for lost loved ones or for help, but for some reason, none of it made any sense to me. One old man had been shoved against a wall by the flood of bodies and he was crying out something. He was loud enough to be heard by me but the words he said were unlike any I’d ever heard. Everyone spoke the same language here so I was confused by not being able to understand him so I pushed against the flow until I was close enough to ask him what he was speaking.
“Excuse me!”
I roared to be heard above the crowd.
“What are you saying?!”
I had to hold onto a window frame set in the wall to keep from being dragged away by the torrent of human beings. He replied but once again I couldn’t understand him. Out of curiosity I pulled myself closer and repeated my question but once again he said something that was unintelligible to me. I let myself be dragged off by the crowd, puzzled. I began to push through the mass of people towards a street which I knew would eventually lead me to the area of the city where my house was located. I didn’t know why everyone was still madly running from the center of the city but there could be no reasoning with a mob of that size so I just kept shoving my way towards an alley that would open up into the street I wanted to be on. The sight that met my eyes as I finally approached the entrance to the alley was horrifying. Two bodies lay on the ground and above them several men were fighting with each other. They were shouting and screaming but I couldn’t understand what they were saying. Whatever it was being said, it sounded awful and complimented their violent actions horribly well. I tried to squeeze past them but  just as I was about to reach the other side, one of them grabbed me by the robe and wrenched me close enough to scream in my face words which I couldn’t make heads or tails of. I hastily pushed myself away from the man and tried to escape into the crowd but he held on and as I turned to face him again I noticed just in time the flash of a knife coming at me. I ducked but he was still able to slice my left arm. The pain shocked me deeply but I turned and kicked him as hard as I could and darted away into the crowd. I could hear the angry shouting behind me but I didn’t turn around. I pushed my way into the bustling traffic on the other side of the alley and was caught along in the swirling current of fleeing people, my injured arm sending jolts of sharp pain whenever I bumped into anyone, which was unavoidable. About half a mile further down the street I was met by the sounds of a great scuffle. The shrill cry of someone in pain echoed over the heads of the crowd and I could hear screaming and shouting coming from further up ahead. All at once I came to the edge of a gap created in the crowd by a horrid sight. About twenty men were struggling with each other. Some held daggers and staffs while the others fought it out with their fists. Several bodies, some still breathing faintly, lay in pools of what I suspected was their own blood. The sight sickened me and I joined the flow of traffic bypassing the spot. My arm still hurt but the sharp pain I felt at first was replaced by a dull throbbing. I felt the area with my other hand and pulled it back to see my fingers covered in red. I pushed and shoved forwards to get away from the scene of violence but I started to notice that more and more like it began to appear around me. I still couldn’t understand anything anyone said and it added to the confusion surrounding me. The only definite thing that stuck in my mind was the desire to arrive home. After many close run ins with angry mobs, more than a couple of which I barely escaped unscathed from, I neared my destination. Only to met by a sight that sent a shock through my whole being. Thick black plumes of smoke rose from the neighborhood in which my house was located. Smokey, red eyed people were rushing from the streets that crisscrossed the area. I couldn’t see a way to push past them to get to the street I needed to be on and I almost despaired, but something within me didn’t give up. Suddenly, as if by instinct, I was scrambling up the side of a small house onto the roof. It hurt to lift my injured arm so I mainly used my right arm to assist me in gaining the top of the low wall and then up onto an adjoining house. I had roamed these streets since I was able to walk so it was second nature to me as I bounded across the roof tops towards my home through the smoke that was so thick it was almost blinding. Not that there was that much light left outside of the smoke since the sky had been covered in a heavy darkness. A rain began to fall, adding to the confusion and making my footsteps more uneasy. Hail and lightning followed it and by the brief flashes and the glow of fires I was able at last to descend into the almost deserted street in front of my home. Many of the houses on the street were caught in the blazing inferno and I found to my chagrin that my house was one of them. The smoke was choking and I could barely see my way to the front door. As I got there the entire structure began to crumble and I threw myself out of the way of a falling beam just in time. I lay in the mud in the street outside and wept bitterly. After a while I tried to compose myself but I couldn’t think clearly in the thick, acrid fumes that surrounded me so I raised myself to my feet and joined the moving stream of people leaving the area of the city. My arm throbbed even more now and I felt weaker and weaker with every step I took further, so much so that I eventually had to step into a tiny alley that seemed deserted. I ripped a long strip from my robe and after rinsing the wound in the falling rain, I bound it up as best I could. Having completed that, I moved myself further into the alley and curled up on the wet ground as closely as I could to a crate which was standing against the wall. I quickly dropped off into sweet oblivion.

A sound of crackling awakened me. I rolled over to see where the sound was coming from and was painfully reminded of the injury to my left arm. I didn’t know what time it was, if it was the same day or the next day since I’d fallen asleep, but whatever time it was, the sky was lighter than when I had last seen it. It looked like either dawn or dusk but it was hard to tell because the thick storm clouds had been replaced by the smog and smoke of many fires. I turned my attention again to the sound I had heard. I staggered to my feet and swayed uneasily as I tried to regain my balance. I reached out and held onto the opposite wall but quickly retracted my hand and cried out in pain, waving my burnt hand around to relieve the stinging. The crackling noise again captured my attention and I looked up to see a pillar of smoke rising from the house whose wall I had just burnt my hand on. I slowly ambled my way out of the alley towards the street. I noticed there was still a stream of people moving about but it wasn’t as large or strong as the crowd I had escaped from when I had sought the refuge of the alley. The sounds of weeping and wailing echoed from down the street and all around me. I emerged from the alley and stood there, shakily, taking in the scene. Similar pillars of smoke rose from all over the city as far as one could see and the street I was on was strewn with the bodies of victims to the violence. It was sickening. So much so that I had to turn my eyes to the ground in front of me to keep from losing it. Once I had regained my composure I set out down the street. I approached one woman who was crying over the body of a little girl. The face of the girl reminded me painfully of my little sister and then of my whole family.
“What day is it?”
I asked in a weak and raspy voice from the injury and smoke. She recoiled from me and scrambled to get away. I repeated my question but she didn’t seem to understand and only backed away further. I decided to move on and try someone else with my question. There were more people moving down the street in one direction and I decided to address them with my question.
“Who here knows what day it is?!”
I weakly shouted. Most of them quickened their pace and quietly jabbered to themselves. I still couldn’t understand what they were saying, it all sounded like nonsense to me. “What day is it?” I feebly repeated. I noticed a few glances of dark suspicion and fear and once again the pace quickened as people hurried to get away from me. I couldn’t understand what they were saying and it certainly seemed like they couldn’t understand me. It also seemed, gathering from the suspicious glances and the avoiding of eye contact, that they couldn’t understand each other either. Except for small groups of two or three, nobody talked to each other. I was about to despair when I heard, coming from another alley close by, words I finally understood.
“Help us! Leave us alone you wretch!”
I came to the entrance to the alley and peered inside. A large wild looking man was assailing an older man with his small family behind him. A small boy, a young woman, and an elderly woman stood behind the old man who was wrestling with the larger, stronger man who was obviously winning. The older woman held a large burlap sack which seemed like their only possession. She was the one who had called for help and she repeated it as she saw me at the entrance to the alley.
“Please help us!”
I was about to turn to leave when the plaintive note in her voice and the helpless look on her and the two other’s faces struck a chord of pity in me. But yet, I was too weak to run around the city rescuing anyone who cried out for help so I again tried to turn. Then it hit me. These were the only people I had understood at all so far. Something in me reached out to them and I turned to face them again.
“Don’t go I beg you!”
The woman cried out again. This time I replied,
“I’m not leaving.”
My voice caused the wild looking man to turn and look at me for a moment. He turned back and shoved the old man to the ground and then turned to face me again. There was something malicious in his eyes. Something besides the smoky, bloodshot glaze that covered them. He advanced slowly and I had time to judge his height. About a full head taller than me. I suddenly regretted saying anything but I didn’t have much time for thought now as he was almost upon me. He launched a large, dirty fist at my face and I dodged it with much difficulty. I didn’t see his other fist come flying from the other side and he caught me on the side of the head above my ear. I staggered back, reeling but he was on me again and landed a blow to my face. I was choked by blood running from my nose as I fell to the ground backwards. I looked up to see him about to advance but all of a sudden there was the thud of something heavy hitting the back of his head and he fell to his knees. Over the top of his head I saw the young boy of no more than ten wielding a brick above his head. He brought it down again onto the top of the man’s head, leaving him knocked out cold on the ground beside me. I tried to get up but I fell back down again and as I slipped into unconsciousness, the last thing I remember were the grateful faces of the old woman, her husband, the young woman, and the triumphant look on the boy’s face.

I briefly regained my senses as I had the sensation of being lifted and placed onto something and then everything went black again.

                             ~
A swirling fog lifted from my eyes and I found myself standing in a street. The houses looked familiar to me and soon I found out why. There were people in the street, washing clothes, walking about and talking to each other while little children ran beneath them. They were my neighbors. I recognized Matthias the Potter at his wheel while his wife, Lamasa, chatted with Zillah the neighborhood matriarch. I sat on her lap when I was a small child and listened to her stories. I still remember them. There was the one of Noah and how God had saved him and his family from the rest of the world’s fate. There was the story of Peleg and how the earth split in his days. People like her were rare though because she believed in the God of Adam and Noah. I was jerked from these reflections by a sight that chilled me. A pile of charred rubble lay in the place where my home should have been and on the heap of debris there were three bodies. I ran to them, dreading what I somehow knew I would see. I got there and gazed upon the pale, lifeless faces of my family staring blankly back at me.
                             ~

I woke with a start and sat straight up. The sky was dark outside but the shock and stress were too much and I closed my eyes and let myself be pushed back down by a cool hand on my forehead.
“It’s going to be okay. It’s just a bad dream.”
A husky male voice said. I opened my eyes again and found myself looking into the faces of the old man and his wife. I tried to sit back up but the old woman pressed me back down. The throbbing in my arm was now joined by a vicious throbbing in my head which was so intense I couldn’t open my eyes for a few minutes. In that time I had the feeling that I was moving. The occasional jolts sent pangs through my head and I determined that I must be in some sort of wagon. Where was I going?! I thought to myself. I wondered where I could be at this moment. In the city? I didn’t hear voices, just the rumbling of wheels. The rumbling of wheels over what? It didn’t sound like the hard packed earth that made up the streets of the city. I bolted up straight again and opened my eyes. I couldn’t leave the city. What about my family? My home? Everything I’d ever known was in Babel. The woman tried to press me back down again but I pushed her hand away and addressed the man who was sitting on the floor of the covered wagon next to me.
“I must return!”
I shouted. The pain in my head grew after my sudden outburst but the man remained calm.
“You cannot.”
He said.
“It would be far too dangerous.”
I looked out the back of the wagon to see the vast city disappearing over the edge of a hill. I suddenly got up and leapt from the back of the wagon. The entreaties of the old man and woman followed me as I breasted the top of the hill but I didn’t look back. On the other side I fell to my knees. The whole city, as far as you could see, was riddled with the glow of fires and a fog of smoke reflected the dull red and orange light. You could see small figures running around like ants through the streets and around the outskirts nearest me I saw people on horse back riding around in and out of alleys and passageways. Some carried torches and some, judging by the occasional flash of metal, carried swords and axes. Smaller figures dashed out of their way as much as possible but some weren’t as fortunate and I had to watch in horror as the men on horseback cut down their helpless victims. I rose from my knees and staggered down the hill, looking for a way around the conflict. As I got nearer I noticed a small deserted street off to my left and I made my way towards it. I made it to the shelter of the street just as I heard hoof beats behind me. I started running as fast as I could and I ducked into an alley at the first chance I got. I turned and looked back at the street but it seemed to be empty so, cautiously, I approached the entrance again. There was a staff leaning against one of the walls and with my good hand I picked it up. When I got to the corner I carefully peered around it. The street was deserted except for a woman who was jogging up my way. All of a sudden a horseman turned the corner and started to gallop after the woman who turned and screamed when she saw the man. She started sprinting towards me and I knew she wouldn’t make it much further with the rider at her heels. I hastily decided to help her, or try to at least. I didn’t know what I was doing when I swung my staff as hard as I could, with one arm, around the corner as soon as I saw her pass. The shock shot through the pole and jarred my elbow badly. The horse reared up on it’s haunches in front of the alley way neighing fearfully. But it was rider less. I didn’t dare hope as I peered around the corner once again but there on the ground was the sprawled out body of evil man. I looked in the other direction, up the street, and I saw the retreating figure of the woman I had saved. The horse had calmed down considerably but it still backed away when I tried to approach it. After much coaxing it finally let me grab its bridle and I stroked its face until it was quite calm. Mounting it would be a difficult task were I to attempt it so I looked around for a barrel or crate I could stand on. I didn’t see any immediate solution so I picked up my staff and tied the reins to it and continued up the street. The horse followed willingly and when I eventually found a large water jar, it let me mount it with no problem. I untied the staff and dropped it hoping that I would not need it again and with much difficulty, coaxed the horse into a gallop. Staying on with only one good arm was the hard part but I also had to keep away from other men who were armed and who were roaming the streets at will, killing and taking what they pleased. Finally I pulled up in front of my house, which was now, along with many of the surrounding houses, a charred pile of debris. There were no bodies on the pile and I could barely contain my happiness at the sight. But then I realized that if they were dead, they could be lying anywhere in the city right now, or their ashes could be flying about in the smoke above me right now. I didn’t want to dismount for fear that I wouldn’t be able to get back on in time to outrun anyone if I was attacked by someone so I turned my steed around and left the street and the hope of finding my family behind. Tears blurred my vision as I attempted to retrace my steps out of the city and although I said to myself that they must be alive somewhere, somehow I knew that my dream was true and I would never see them again.

                   
                   ~Chapter 2~

The first streaks of dawn began to show through the haze on the second day before I finally reached the outskirts of the city. The horse I was on was flecked with sweat and I could barely keep from falling off it. It had been a long chaotic night roaming the once familiar streets of that extensive city and more than a couple times I had to gallop away from a violent mob. It seemed as if the whole city had turned mad but by the time I had made it to the outskirts I could see that some still had sense. Long caravans of people departing the city could be viewed as far as the horizon. Most people were traveling by foot but the occasional wagon broke up the pattern. I scanned the area around me and noticed none of the riders which had last night pillaged the area but the fruits of their violence lay on the ground pitifully. I turned from the sight and urged my horse onwards. The poor thing began to walk and then slowly to trot. I had no idea where I was going but I knew I had to get away from that place so I kept trotting on towards a small caravan I saw in the distance. I hoped it might contain the wagon I had left the night before but I didn’t even know what the wagon looked like from the outside since I hadn’t turned when I had run from it. I was nearing the group of people who were walking along next to a covered wagon bearing their old and wounded when they turned at my hoof beats. One of the women screamed and a man stepped in front of her as if to protect her from me. Several other men stepped next to him with the women and boys behind them. One of them held a spear and as I approached he lowered it menacingly. After my previous experiences I could understand what they were feeling. A mixture of fear and self preservation was what you needed to survive in the recent chaos so I reigned in my horse a good thirty yards from them and I mustered up the strength to call out to them. “I don’t mean to harm you. Do you understand me?” My words seemed to only increase their suspicion so I turned and made my way to the next group who were a hundred yards or so to the left. They were just a group of women and a few young men gathered around one donkey on which an old man was riding. I cautiously approached and stopped twenty yards off but they still seemed afraid of me so I repeated myself. “Don’t be afraid of me. Do any of you understand me?” It didn’t have the effect I had planned for they bunched up together brandishing whatever implements they could lay hands on, jars, rocks, staves, while the old man on the donkey approached me. An old woman called out to him, sobbing, and I could only guess that she was begging him to come back. He came right up next to me and glared at me suspiciously. His hair was pure white and a long white beard flowed down the front of his grey robe. The old woman whimpered behind him but he interrupted her as he addressed me in a low voice.
“Don’t speak too loudly. I am the only one in my group who can understand you.”
I was so happy to have found someone who knew what I was saying that I forgot his advice and declared in a loud voice.
         “Finally! Someone I can talk to!”
The group started jabbering amongst themselves whilst the old woman started up her pleading anew.
         “I told you not to speak so loudly.”
The old man said.
         “They barely trust me as it is because I do not understand their language. If it wasn’t for these white hairs and my wife who speaks their tongue I would have been killed or left for dead somewhere already.”
I already knew why they would be suspicious of me so I kept my voice low as I replied.
         “I’ve lost my family and I am searching for some people who have helped me but I ran away from them. Perhaps you have seen them. There was an older man with his wife, a young woman and a boy of no more than ten who I believe were their children. The last I saw them they were in a covered wagon somewhere in this area although I didn’t mange to notice where the two younger people were. They spoke our language and they cared for me after I had been knocked unconscious.”
The old man looked at me with grave eyes before replying.
         “I’m sorry, I haven’t seen your friends. It’s good to know that there are other people out there who know our language though. I’m sure finding them though would be the hardest part as you are well aware.”
         “Perhaps I could join your group while I search for them?”
         “Perhaps. I don’t know how they would take it though. They’re really on edge after we were attacked last night by a small group of people. We lost two of our men to them but we managed to drive them away. They probably went off to find more easy victims.”
         “Could you not speak to them somehow? Maybe use your wife to tell them?”
         “I’m afraid not. Ever since the tower fell I haven’t been able to understand a word my wife says and she, I.”
I thought for a moment and then swung down from my horse, painfully. My legs hurt from riding the whole night long as I slowly approached the group. They were still muttering amongst themselves but I could see that they were a little more relaxed at my behavior. The old man followed behind me on his donkey as I walked, with hands open, towards the people. Clearly disarmed, the old woman ran out, past me, and clung to her husbands hand while the rest of the band slowly encircled me. One of the young men, who looked older and stronger than the rest, stepped forward and took the reigns of my horse. He led it out in front of the rest and everyone else followed him as he started walking again. I joined the old man and his wife and walked next to the donkey. My legs were stiff and sore and more than once I had to reach out and steady myself on the donkey.

         We didn’t stop walking till sundown when we were far enough away from the city to feel a little easier about setting up camp. The rolling hills for miles around were dotted with the glow of small campfires and we soon added ours to the number.  Everyone circled the fire in silence. Only a couple people had food but the rest just ignored the hunger pangs and stared blankly into the flames. My horse had been ridden on and off during the day and now it stood just outside of the firelight, covered in sweat. I knew that it wouldn’t last long at this rate. The man who seemed to be in charge had taken possession of it and now he sat in a huddle with some of the other young men, casting dark glances over my way every now and again. I sat with the old man and woman who had made sure that the donkey was tethered near some vegetation before sitting down with me. We had no water and our mouths were parched after the long day. I finally turned over to the old man who was staring into the fire and tried to start a conversation.
         “Do you have any children?”
I immediately regretted what I said but luckily it seemed that he hadn’t heard me for he stared ahead blankly. I felt awkward and tired so I backed away from the firelight and stretched out upon the bare ground as best I could. I wouldn’t have been able to fall asleep if I hadn’t been exhausted from the day’s toils and in a matter of seconds sleep had descended upon me.

                                       ~
         The sound of rolling carts and the groaning of camels reached my ears as I stood on the edge of a busy market, bustling with traffic and pedestrians perusing the wares being hawked by sellers in their stalls. The market was like any other you’d find in Babel and the camel caravans carrying goods to and from was a common sight on the streets of that extensive metropolis. I walked to the center of the square and turned all the way around scanning the sky above all the houses but nothing was to be seen. There was no tower, not even a half built structure obscured the clear blue sky. I could not remember looking up to the skyline without my eyes coming to rest on the tall spire that so recently stood in the middle of the city. Even when my parents were small children the unfinished bulk of the tower could be seen from every area of the city and I imagine their parents saw the same thing. Suddenly I was in a busy tavern on the corner of a wide street and the clinking of cups, jars, and pots floated to my ears over the murmur of voices engaged in conversation. I was seated on a small wooden stool in one corner offering a view of the whole room and the street outside. Three dark, bearded men entered the tavern and took up a vacant table near where I was sitting. By the gold togs and trinkets that graced their expensive clothing and their meticulously groomed beards I judged that they must be members of nobility or the priesthood. The landlord approached their table and they ordered three cups of ale and a loaf of bread. The staff went scurrying to complete their request, confirming my suspicions. Nobody looked at me during this whole time and I came to the conclusion that they couldn’t see me but my reflections were interrupted when the three men started to talk. One with grey streaks in his beard started off the conversation.
         “I’m glad both of you could make it here today.”
         “The pleasure is all ours.”
The youngest looking man replied while the other nodded his assent. I had to lean in closer to hear what was said next.
         “I think you know why I’ve asked you to meet me here. Very few people connected with the throne come to this area and I know I can trust the establishment to be discreet about what they might overhear. Which brings me to my point? I have everything prepared for the overthrow, all I need is your cooperation in a few matters.”
The older looking man was speaking.
         “Anything to assist you.”
         “We are ready to do anything you ask.”
The two others gave their accord and the elder continued.
         “There are two main oppositions to our plans. The first and most obvious is the king and his supporters. The second comes from our own ranks. Enosh, the High Priest, will not give his approval to our plans. He says that they will come to no good and that our proposed tower in the plain of Shinar will only anger the gods. I want both of you to use whatever means possible to, shall we say, ‘change his mind’. I don’t want to hear about it, just do it. As for the king, I have people in key places who will follow my commands when I judge the time to be right. I even have the replacement singled out. His name is Lamech and he is the son-in-law to the king. Although he wouldn’t inherit the throne if anything were to happen to the king, I’m sure with the right amount of leverage, none of the other nobles will dispute his claim. Until next week then.”
         “Farewell.”
         “Farewell.”
And with that the three men stood up leaving a small pile of coins on the table which the host quickly scooped up as he cleared away their empty cups. I just sat there and pondered over what I had heard, puzzled. I had never heard of these things before but I knew what must tie everything they talked about together. The tower in the plain of Shinar.
                                       ~

         It was just as the first streaks of sunrise were brightening up the sky when I awoke suddenly. There wasn’t a sound to be heard as I stood up and examined the campsite. My fellow travelers were all still sleeping and they covered the ground in a circle surrounding the shallow pit which had held the fire that had long since burnt out. I hadn’t eaten in two days as I walked to the edge of the camp. My arm, head, and two legs pained me as I stretched out, breathing in the crisp early morning air. The atmosphere was still hazy but a cool breeze was flowing in from the desert beyond the hill country we were traveling in. I scanned the surrounding hills where similar campsites were scattered, their fires long cold. I wondered if my friends from the first day were in one of them, if I could explore them without disturbing the inhabitants. I knew, however, that if I was caught snooping in any of them I might not make it back alive. But now I desperately regretted leaving the older woman and her family. If only I had just accepted the fate of my family and stayed with them. The pain of that thought had been dulled in my mind by the toils I had endured the previous day but now tears ran down, clearing streaks on my grimy face. I pulled myself together when I heard the sounds of people waking behind me. It must have been clearly obvious what I had been doing for when I came into the camp, the few people awake scooted aside and let me sit with them. One even offered me a crust of bread. I thanked him and although we didn’t speak the same language, we understood each other perfectly. When everyone had risen, the leader who had stolen my horse said something and we all started walking again. We all followed the young men up ahead but I doubted if they had any idea where they were leading us so I just trailed behind with the man and his wife who was now perched on the donkey. I looked up ahead and saw that my horse looked a little better after a nights rest. Some of the people looked worse than the horse though and I wondered how much further they could make it. We passed several other camps where people were stirring but we avoided them as much as possible which frustrated me because I had hoped to catch a glimpse of the family I had left. It was about midday when we came to the top of a large hill at the edge of the rolling country we were in. From the top you could look down over many of the smaller hills around and in the distance, the shimmering sea of sand sparkled at us. Suddenly a shriek was heard behind us. Collectively we turned and faced where the shriek was coming from. Another band had been descending a neighboring hill into a small valley but were now shouting and running in all directions. Some leaped from rocks and landed in the dry wash bed while others climbed as quickly as they could over the hill. The reason for their hasty scramble hove into view as two horsemen and five men bearing spears and swords rounded the side of the hill. The horsemen had to dismount to follow the fleeing people and left their horses unprotected as they joined their companions on foot. Instantly the idea came to my head. I scrambled down the hill towards where they had left their horses. I knew that my party must have thought me mad but I kept descending, avoiding bushes and rocks till I came within fifty yards of my target. I turned and saw my group staring at me but when I motioned toward the horses, realization relaxed their expressions and one of the young men rushed down the hill to assist me. The bandits were still chasing the unfortunate group when he arrived next to me. We sprinted across the wash and dashed up the other side to where the horses were tethered. I gestured for him to take one while I took the other. He jumped up on the horse I indicated and began to retrace his steps carefully as the ground was rocky. My arm still wouldn’t allow me to swing myself up so I grabbed the reigns and began to lead the unwilling horse away. I managed to coax it to the other side of the wash when it whinnied. The sound sent panic through me and I rushed up the embankment tugging the reigns along with me. The riders had heard it too, each one suspecting his own horse and they swiftly spotted me trying to lead their horse up the hill. The young man who had taken the other horse had already crested the hill and disappeared from their view and I endeavored to follow him when a shaft suddenly buried itself in the dirt next to me. The rider who had shot it thought better of releasing a second shaft fearing, I guessed, of hitting his horse. The other rider was scrambling down the hill towards the wash and his companion soon joined him. I kept pulling the reigns until I had reached the top of the hill but by then they were close upon my heels.

         I thought of the painful death I would receive at their merciless hands. Would it be quick? I’d seen so many other deaths but I hadn’t for once thought of my own. I didn’t want this to be the end. I frantically searched the hillside on the other side for signs of my party and then on the other side, heading for the desert, I espied the running figures. The young man who had taken the other horse had joined them by now and I actually saw him look back at me before turning and pursuing their escape route. I heard the heavy breathing and pounding footsteps rapidly approaching from behind but it was as if out of a dream. The horse, which had already been skittish, bolted and I turned in time to see the dismayed look on the face of the horseman. The look quickly turned to that of fierce anger as the two riders gained the crest of the hill. I had just moments to spare if I was to live so in an explosion of energy brought by self preservation, I dashed off in the direction the horse had taken. I was flying over rocks and small shrubs while I ran straight through the larger ones, ignoring the scratches and scrapes I received in my mad flight. At the bottom of the hill I looked up and spotted the retreating form of the horse I had stolen and redirected my steps to follow it. The sand and pebbles flew from beneath my sandals as I crossed a small wash. I could still hear the heavy breathing of my pursuers but I didn’t turn my head to look back as I flew up the small hill on the other side of the wash. Over tiny hillocks and dry river beds my flight took me. Across small gulches and through small groves of tangled acacia trees I found myself alone and exhausted. The sounds of pursuit had slowly diminished and now I stretched myself out on a large rock in the shade a miniature ravine provided. I closed my eyes and lay there, catching my breath for what seemed only a few minutes but what must’ve been at least half an hour. My head still ached a bit but the pain had by and large left. My arm still hurt but I hadn’t strained it too much in my run although some of the scratches I had received would leave scars on that arm. My right arm had a couple scratches but none as bad as the ones I found on my legs. Now that I had stopped running they had started to hurt me and it was obvious why. A long, deep scratch I had received from a broken branch with a sharp jagged end ran from my calf to my ankle and the now dry blood had mixed with the blood from my cut and blistered feet. A couple bumps and scrapes promised to become colorful bruised that would take a time to heal. My mouth was completely dry and a headache brought on by dehydration began to appear and gradually grew into one massive migraine. The inside of my skull felt like it was being hammered with mallets and I writhed on the ground clutching my head in my arms. I welcomed it when exhaustion closed my eyelids and I dropped off into a shallow, fitful slumber.

         I awoke at nightfall and my headache was somewhat relieved but I knew I had to find water soon so I gathered myself up and hobbled off down the ravine, my whole body aching. The cry of a lonely owl broke up the silence as I stumbled my way forward. It was a full moon on the wane that lit my unsure path. The rocks and the ground reflected soft moon light as they radiated stored heat gathered in the day. I continued this way until I reached the end of the ravine where it opened up onto the endless, shifting sands that stretched to the horizon and beyond. I stopped there and took in the scene of grandeur. The sea of white sand reflected the distant light of the stars in waves of dunes while the shadows cast by them acted as troughs below. A wind was blowing, picking up the sand in tiny whirlwinds and dropping it off further along its path. I scanned the vast expanse in search of the telltale flicker of a fire but there were none to be seen. The yapping of a jackal floated downwind on the breeze. I slowly walked forward, into the sand. My sandals, which were already coming apart, were soon lost in the sand as I plowed my way up a large dune. At the top, I turned and looked back at the way I had come. The sand ended and the country beyond seemed black compared to the brilliance of the desert ocean I stood on. Far off in the distance I could see three or four fires that broke up the darkness and I knew I could find people around them but I didn’t make one step towards any one of them. The light surrounding me seemed like my only refuge and returning to the lands beyond to find people who might potentially kill me to take the ragged clothes off my back did not seem like a happy alternative to dying of thirst out in the desert.  With these thoughts driving me, I turned and made my way down the other side of the dune and ascended the next one. It must have been hours later when I finally collapsed on the side of a great dune which rose above all the others. I clawed my way to the top but I couldn’t quite reach it before a swift and sudden tiredness overtook me and I fell into a deep, dark slumber brought on by physical, mental, and emotional exhaustion.