Abraham Allegiant (Chronicles of the Nephilim Book 4) Page 11

  Again, she was too afraid to admit it.

  Abram knew exactly what it was. This pure heart before him was so virtuous that she embraced the truth as soon as she heard it. But even then she questioned her own motives because…

  “Because of me,” he said finishing her sentence. “Because you did not want your devotion to the Creator to be based on the selfish motive of attraction to the man that is going to marry you.”

  She looked at him with shock. It took her a second to make sure she heard what she thought she heard.

  Even Abram was a bit surprised he said it. He was thinking it. But he would normally not be so hasty or impulsive. It was as if El Shaddai himself was hurrying them along.

  And then she burst out in new tears. But this time, they were tears of joy.

  Abram held her and they cried together as one.

  “What in Sheol?” barked Haran. “You have been here two days and you want to marry your half-sister? Are you two crazy?”

  Abram and Sarai had gone back to the dinner table and were now standing before the family with their news.

  Sarai complained, “Most of the marriages in this family are arranged anyway and spouses do not know each other until they are betrothed. So why are you barking so loud?”

  Haran’s eyes went wide with astonishment. Everyone’s eyes did. She never talked back like that before.

  Nahor butted in, “Well, you certainly have had an immediate affect on our sister with your bare-faced brazenness, Abram.”

  “Consider it an arranged marriage,” said Abram, “only the arranger is our Creator, instead of you rock heads.”

  Abram had a big grin at the last words. His humor disarmed them. Haran and Nahor tried to suppress a smile.

  Nahor tried to speak through a breakout chuckle, “Okay, okay, so you are telling us, Sarai, that you have converted to this god El Shaddai, and now you want to leave us high and dry?”

  Nahor’s wife Milcah finally spoke up. “You are just concerned about your own welfare no longer being served by your sister, Nahor. Grow up.”

  Nahor could not deny it. Everyone knew Milcah was right.

  “Do not worry,” said Abram, “I intend to do everything properly. We will have the customary betrothal for negotiations of bride price and dowry.”

  “For Sin’s sake,” said Haran, “She is not a twelve year old. She carries her own weight in this household, and the weight of the rest of us.”

  Nahor jumped in again, “She is past child bearing age, Abram.”

  Milcah scolded him, “Nahor.” And he shut up with a shrug.

  “I do not care,” said Abram. “I am no spring quail, myself, you know. El Shaddai will provide.”

  Haran quipped, “El Shaddai is providing you with the best cooking, cleaning, and hygiene in the kingdom of Ur!”

  Everyone laughed. Especially Sarai, as she could not wait to clean up Abram’s scruffy and unkempt appearance. Underneath that gruff was quite a handsome man, she thought.

  Haran lifted up a cup of wine to Abram. “Here is a toast and a prayer to, what is his name again?”

  “El Shaddai,” answered Abram.

  “El Shaddai it is,” said Haran. “I only hope father is as willing to give his blessing as your god is.”

  Everyone agreed, and drank the wine.

  Chapter 21

  Terah arrived in Ur ahead of Nimrod by several days. They were coming from Elam in the East, and Nimrod had to tie up some loose ends before joining Terah in Ur. This was a providential delay because when Terah discovered Abram was at his house, he almost had a heart attack from the shock.

  “If Nimrod discovers you, we will all be put to death!” yelled Terah.

  “I am happy to see you, too, father,” said Abram with a bite.

  They stood staring at each other in the family courtyard that opened up to all the entrances of the house. The family stood around them. Sarai was next to Abram.

  “That is – not – fair,” said Terah. “I gave you to Noah to save your life. And now the entire family is in jeopardy! What would you have me do?”

  “How about give me a hug?” said Abram with his arms outstretched.

  “Awwwwww,” exclaimed Terah and he embraced Abram with weepy eyes. “My son.”

  “Father,” Abram whispered in his ear.

  Abram held him out and said, “No one need know I am a relative. I am a Bedouin desert wanderer. With your approval, I will marry Sarai before Nimrod arrives and we will leave with no one knowing any better.”

  Sarai watched her father’s face for approval like a hound watched its master for a morsel of food.

  Terah sighed. “Come with me to the temple of Sin the moon god, and let us bring the petition before him.”

  “I am afraid I cannot do that,” said Abram.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I worship El Shaddai, the god of Enoch and Noah, the true god and Creator.”

  Terah rolled his eyes. “I knew I should not have given you to that fanatic ancestor of mine! He has hypnotized you about his extremist intolerant solo god!”

  Sarai tried to help out, “Father…”

  But Terah was not listening. “No daughter of mine is going to be caught up in a new cult of religion. We have always worshipped the pantheon.”

  “Father,” interrupted Sarai, “It is too late. I am already caught up.”

  Terah stood dumbfounded.

  She continued, “I have given up the family idols and now worship El Shaddai.”

  Terah’s jaw clenched in silent boiling anger.

  He stared at Abram and shouted, “No!” and stomped out of the room.

  Everyone stood there embarrassed for Abram and Sarai. They did not know what to say.

  Sarai started to cry softly.

  Abram went after Terah.

  He found him in the family shrine room. It was a room large enough to house twelve wood and stone images of deities, one for each month of the calendar. They were situated in a circle around the room with their own shrines. It would allow the worshippers to kneel or prostrate themselves in the center and face any image of their choosing based on the current month or need of the votary.

  It disgusted Abram. He avoided this room because he could feel the presence of oppression, as if these demon gods knew he was there and hated him with all their spirits.

  But Abram swallowed his contempt and entered the room with a conciliatory attitude, knowing that his God was the Creator of all, and these pathetic imitators had no power over him.

  “I can see you have infected the entire household as well,” said Terah.

  “Father, I am not seeking to undermine you. I am simply fulfilling my destiny, a destiny that you saw in the stars and saved me for.”

  He was right. Terah could not deny it. He was there that night when the star came and swallowed up the other stars. But if Abram was right, then everything Terah believed and lived was a cruel joke. He had spent close to two hundred years of life on the earth studying astrology, sorcery, and omen reading. He had engaged in countless hours worshipping a multitude of gods who were more present than this absent invisible El Shaddai he heard Noah boast about, and now Abram.

  He looked at the exquisitely carved and crafted images that seemed to look at him with longing. He could almost hear them hissing in his ears, “Get rid of him, get rid of him.” His was a world of too many masters. A king whose megalomania was only surpassed by the king of gods he served; A wicked queen and her evil son who would set the world in flames as soon as they got the chance; gods who required so much detail and so many rituals just to figure out their opposing wills; A family legacy to whom he had dedicated his life to protect.

  But he had survived. He had managed to navigate all those masters demanding his allegiance. He managed to negotiate his way into becoming the prince of the heavenly host. He had worked too hard and for too long to master survival in the system. It was too much to give up. He would be a complete failure and most certainly los
e his life and the lives of his family. It was too devastating to consider. He just wanted it to all go away.

  “You have my blessing,” said Terah with resignation. “Marry Sarai and go away. Far away from this family.”

  Abram would not say a word. He turned to leave, and saw that Sarai was right behind him, eyes red with tears, having heard it all. It was like hearing the eulogy of her own funeral. But it was not a eulogy. It was more like a curse.

  She grabbed Abram’s hand and would not let it go.

  They walked quietly away.

  Chapter 22

  The wedding was two days later. Considering the circumstances, they decided to have a small family ceremony so as not to draw attention. Terah did not require a bride price since there was no betrothal period, but offered a generous dowry to Sarai, probably out of guilt for her illegitimacy of birth through another mother.

  Rather than the several days of festivities, they had only one day. They performed a ritual and had a banquet dinner for the family members alone. The problem was that Terah was forced to officiate the wedding ceremony against his better judgment. They could not allow a priest or priestess of the local pantheon for fear of discovery. But also because Abram wanted it to take place before El Shaddai, not the gods of the pantheon.

  So Terah bit his lip and officiated the ceremony under the condition that he only mention El Shaddai once. He had been used to bending the rules for so many gods over so many years, he figured he could do it this one time even for a god he had no more taste for than Ishtar. What was one more hollow performance of ritual duties among his thousands of hollow performances?

  What he was surprised to discover was the sense of peace that came over the whole family. He had never seen it before. He had never experienced it either. But it seemed to pervade the whole rite with a sacred holiness that everyone sensed and no one was courageous enough to talk about.

  Abram allowed himself to be cleaned up by Sarai for the wedding. She cut his hair and shaved his beard to be more Sumerian, but in return, he had asked her to wear make up under her veil and have her hair done up nicely.

  It was difficult for her to do so because she had avoided beautification for so many years that it felt foreign to her, like playing the harlot. She would wear the plainest of robes that would cover her figure like a big tent. Now, she wore a Sumerian white linen wedding gown that made her feel like a temple prostitute it was so tight and revealing. She just did not consider herself pretty. But if her husband wanted it, she would do it to please him. She wondered what other desires this bold strong lustful man would have, and whether she would be enough for him.

  When Abram saw her walking through the courtyard up to the marriage tent in her wedding gown and veil, his knees went weak. He started to feel faint.

  Why am I so blessed? He thought. I do not deserve this woman of such goodness of heart and heavenly beauty.

  She watched him staring at her like a hungry wolf as she approached, and when they looked into each other’s eyes, she could see he was a complete lamb at her disposal. She could see into his soul and somehow just knew that he was completely and totally hers.

  How could this be? She thought. Who would want me with such desire?

  She is a goddess, he thought. I am a goat.

  What they did not notice was the astonishment of everyone else in the room. They all knew Sarai had a natural beauty, but she kept it so well hidden they had forgotten it. Now, they felt an almost spiritual quality to her as if she were an angel from heaven.

  Even Terah’s heart melted as he read through the proclamations. She was still his daughter, and he would always have a special place in his heart for the little “orphaned” girl of such grace and elegance.

  She is too good for this boorish husband, Terah thought. She is too good for this family. Shades of Sheol! She is too good for me!

  Terah began to cry as Abram poured the customary perfume over Sarai’s head. He gave his precious daughter away and wondered what was in store for her with this man who followed a strange god, this stranger in a strange land.

  As they ate their dinner feast of lamb, fish, figs, pomegranates and much flowing beer and wine, Sarai watched her new bridegroom’s every move. He was so handsome and so strong. As he looked back at her, she noticed he was fidgeting in his chair. Adjusting his robe around his legs, and changing his seating posture as if bothered.

  She leaned in and whispered, “What is wrong, my love?”

  He looked at her surprised. “You really do not know?” he asked.

  She felt a failure. How could she not understand his every response?

  “Well, my wonderfully innocent bride,” he said. “You have much to learn in the school of male nature. So let us start our class immediately. Lesson one, when a man is smitten with a heavenly beauty such as yours, there is only one thing he can think of, and he is thinking of nothing else.”

  She was thinking, Love?

  He continued, moving a bulge from his robe aside. “And those thoughts transfer down to a certain nether region where they arouse a certain member of his body, thus causing discomfort until said desires are consummated.”

  She stared with a white face. “Oh, I am sorry. I should have known better.”

  Milcah and Eliana had spoken to her a little about the way of a man with a woman. But obviously not enough.

  She fluttered, “Is there anything I can do to help you?”

  “Oh, you will, my flower petal. You will help me very soon, and very often.”

  She felt a shiver in her own nether region and thought, His words are so comely and poetic. I could cuddle in his arms all night.

  For the first few days, the family planned on leaving them in Terah’s large master bedroom and even cleared out the nearby bedrooms for further privacy. That found family members sleeping in the courtyard under the moon or, in the case of Nahor, in the kitchen near the food.

  When Abram and Sarai arrived, they saw a bath drawn in a tub in the corner, and the room garnered with mandrake plants whose roots were famed for aiding in sexual arousal and conception. The entire room was filled with the aroma of love potion spices: Myrrh, aloes, cinnamon, and frankincense. Aphrodisiac raisin cakes were beside the bed.

  They walked to the tub, where Abram slowly pulled the strings on her robe and slid her linen vestments off. They fell to the floor.

  Then he stepped back and helped her take off her undergarments until she was naked before him.

  She felt uncomfortable at first. No man had ever seen her so. But this was right. This was what she had saved herself for. She was naked and unashamed.

  He stared with wide eyes, and began to breathe heavily.

  “Are you okay,” she asked.

  “I am dizzy,” he said. “I will sit down while you bathe.”

  He sat on the bed and watched her pour water over her body. Her silken skin glittered as the water flowed down her curves and crevices like oil over a goddess.

  He was enraptured. He could not help but moan with desire watching her move with such grace.

  He removed his robe and joined her.

  She said, “Now I understand why you were so uncomfortable at dinner.”

  They shared a smile.

  He let her clean him. He returned the favor with ritual like purity. They shivered at each other’s touch.

  The got up and dried themselves off.

  He reached up and pulled off her headband that was keeping her hair up for the ceremony.

  Her hair fell down around that luscious neck of hers. She shook her head slightly to let it all lay down. She heard him gasp with more desire.

  She ran her hands through her hair to scratch her head from the bothersome headband. But he stopped her, and ran his hands through her flowing blonde locks with delicate sensuous scratching.

  He thought, Nothing compares with this golden garden. Thank you, El Shaddai.

  She moaned with delight.

  Which made him moan.

 
They kissed.

  Deeply.

  Her lips were so soft to him, like the petals of silken flowers.

  He grasped her with such firmness, she felt all her fears fall away. Whatever she would experience this evening, she knew she was completely safe inside his love.

  He picked her up and laid her on the bed.

  His eyes consumed her body. She was not used to the attention of being adored. He could see it in her face.

  He said, “Sarai, as your husband, I command you to never utter the words ‘I am not beautiful’ again. It is a slap in the face of your Creator.”

  She shivered. She wanted to obey. She would do anything he told her.

  She was lying on her side so that her body created a flowing of curves she had no idea would drive Abram wild.

  He ran his fingers over her smooth skin. Up her legs, around her hips and over to her velvety breasts.

  “You are in fact, more beautiful than anything in all of creation. More beautiful than the mountains of God, more than the gardens and forests of Eden. More than the depths of the ocean.”

  Her form was more comely than a younger woman. She was voluptuous and succulent. And she did not even know it.

  “I feel like a harlot with all this make up on,” she said.

  “No, no, no,” he said. “It is all part of accentuating the magnificence of your form, my love. I do not see a harlot. I see a goddess.”

  He kissed her belly. Started to lick her tummy up to her breasts.

  She giggled. “That tickles.”

  “You are a feast for my senses,” he said.

  Her smell was like incense of the gods. Her taste was like spice. The touch of her skin was silk. Her breathing and her sounds were music. And of course, his eyes could not have enough of her. Beneath his trembling fingers and lips was a fury of passion that would ravish her at any moment.

  But he wanted it to last. And he wanted to help bring her into her awakening.

  Which is why he focused on her erogenous zones to bring her out to play.