Abraham Allegiant (Chronicles of the Nephilim Book 4) (5 page)

Marduk arose the next morning and arrived at the lake clad only in an animal skin loin cloth, and armed with a dagger strapped to his leg, a mighty compound bow, a battle mace, and a large axe of three talents weight, or two hundred and twenty five pounds strapped to his back. Of what use arrows were against the colossal armored dragon was anyone’s guess. But everything had a purpose in Marduk’s plan.

Two of the items were gifts from Nimrod. The loincloth was more than merely a minimal covering to allow Marduk free movement in the water. It was Nimrod’s own magical garments he had inherited from his mother. They were the skins worn by the first Man and Woman in the Garden of Eden that conferred a magical enchantment that took away the fear of humans in animals. It was a hunter’s advantage for animals to not fear them. And Tiamat certainly had no fear of any creature. But should Marduk begin to do some real damage to the dragon, its instincts would kick in and a healthy fear would empower it to surge in its fight. The lack of such surge caused by the garments would surely make it vulnerable to strategic attack. Marduk was not sure the skins would have any real effect on the preternatural sea monster, but anything was worth the chance in this impossible task. He also received the battle-axe from Nimrod, who had himself used the mighty weapon in his campaign against the Rephaim giant, Humbaba the Terrible, in his Cedar Forest.

An additional weapon, that Marduk had commanded be created, was carried in by the hands of hundreds of slaves. It was a battle net large enough to entangle the serpent of the Abyss. It was rigged on a huge catapult for just the right moment, and the slaves instructed as to its use.

In addition to these hundreds of slaves, thousands of citizens came to watch the event as one would a sporting contest. They brought blankets and food and drink for the day so as not to miss any of the battle if it went on for long. Most expected it to be over quickly with the bullying deity clamped in the jaws of chaos.

Nimrod and his royal entourage set up at a safe distance. The four high gods from the assembly were also there: Anu, Enlil, Enki, and Ninhursag. They were required as eyewitnesses on behalf of the assembly of the gods. They were the chief executors whose decisions were final. Should they declare Marduk as king, he would immediately ascend his throne with the authority of the pantheon behind him.

For the first time in his life that he could remember, Nimrod was truly afraid. If Marduk was not successful and was buried in the deep, Nimrod would lose his patron protector as well as his co-conspirator in the plans they drew up. Plans that the assembly would not be happy with should they discover them. Nimrod wanted to pray to the gods for help, but he could not because the gods he would pray to were right before him, and they were the ones from whom he was keeping his secret. So he kept his straight face on as a mask for the fears that boiled beneath.

Marduk kneeled before the shore and engaged in a ritual incantation to call up the monster from below. When its armored scales crested the waters, Marduk raised his mighty bow and let loose an arrow made from meteorite iron. It was tied to a slender, yet strong cable of intertwined hemp and copper strands. It found its mark underneath one of the monster’s broken scales, digging deeply into its flesh.

The purpose of the projectile missile was not to do damage. That was a ludicrous proposition. Its purpose was on the other end of the cord, the end tied to Marduk’s waist. As the beast dove deep into
the lake waters, Marduk was jerked from the shore like bait on the other end of a fishing line.

He plunged into the cold waters and grabbed the line, pulling himself toward the sea monster until he was able to grab onto its spiny back and ride it like a bucking bronco in a water pen.

In a normal scenario, Marduk would not have much of a chance of riding this fury out. Tiamat was simply too mighty to withstand. But this was not a normal scenario. For Marduk had inscribed the enchantment spells he received from Ishtar into the surrounding seabed. And those spells served to lull Tiamat into a confused trancelike state. Its own chaos was turned against it, and the dragon swam without purpose or plan. It was trying to get away, but from what it just could not comprehend. It was being hemmed in by magic.

Marduk’s animal skins had the effect of making him virtually invisible to the dragon. At a moment when it should begin to fear, it did not. So confusion blinded it, compounded by the spells all around the lakebed. It dove deep, but could not find the opening of the Abyss because of its disorientation.

So it went the only other direction it could imagine to break free of the swirling confusion in its skull: Upward with a furious speed.

It broke the surface and its entire body came out of the water like it was flying straight up into the heavens. On the way down, Marduk heard the command yelled and the catapult released. The battle net was flung at the sea dragon and enveloped it just before it hit the water with a huge tsunami like wave that drenched the entire shoreline, dragging some slaves to drown in the depths.

The great serpent wriggled and writhed, trying to free itself, but it only wore itself out as the net entangled it like an underwater spider web of entrapment. Though the water weakened Marduk, he was not incapacitated. He used most of his strength to ride it out until he could find his moment of maximum impact.

But then the great dragon found the lakebed and rolled around, trying to shake loose the netting. Its gigantic body smashed Marduk against the silt bottom.

He lost his grip and twisted about in the murky turbulence, flailing for something, anything to grab hold of. He prayed it would not be the mouth of the great beast.

Fortunately, the battle net kept him from being washed away into the tumultuous current. He found himself snagged back to the sea dragon’s upper back as the net tightened its tangled grip.

He held on for his immortal life. He could not be killed, but he could be trapped in a crevice of rock or a landslide of boulders from which he could not extricate himself. And if that happened, he could be trapped there for millennia, losing his kingdom and awaiting the Judgment. And this enormous reptile had just the weight and force to accomplish that should Marduk let go of his saddle again.

When they cleared the murky turbulence, he saw they were headed straight for the opening of the Abyss. The roof of the opening would crush him as the dragon scraped its way out. There was nothing he could do. He held on, and awaited his demise. He thought he had at least done better than what any other god would have achieved. He had come so close.

But without warning, Tiamat just altered its course ninety degrees and swam straight up. The combination of the enchantment spells and the net had so thoroughly worn down the mighty gargantuan with confusion, blindness, and exhaustion that it did not see the portal to the Abyss.

It was instead reaching for land. It burst out of the water and landed on the shoreline. It was making a last attempt to beach itself and wriggle out of the net using the ground as a surface to drag it off.

But Marduk was out of the water. His full strength returned. He pulled himself through the rings of the net, his body naked because the loincloth had been ripped off in the midst of the battle. He pulled his huge battle-axe wrapped to his back, and swung with all his force into the soft exposed flesh from some scales he had ripped free. The axe went deep.

Tiamat bellowed. It was a hideous sound that pierced the souls of everyone still alive along the shoreline.

Marduk wrenched it free and swung again. An artery of blood broke open like a geyser, drenching Marduk in thick red.

Tiamat was almost to the water again.

The net was coming off.

Marduk swung one more time and the axe was lost in the sliced fat and muscle of the serpentine colossus.

Tiamat roared again. It shook the shoreline.

Marduk was out of the water and in his strength, but so was Tiamat. It was out of the water and therefore away from the spells that restrained it. It had regained its wits. And it was aware of Marduk because the magic skins were gone from his body.

But it was too late for such awareness.

Just as it hit the water, to regain its bearings, Marduk had opened the area of flesh he had cut, and burrowed his way into the body of the beast.

He had withdrawn his dagger and was cutting his way through the innards of the dragon.

The dragon desperately swam in circles. It could feel the parasite digging its way through its organs and the serpent could do nothing about it.

Marduk reached the heart of Tiamat. It was huge, the size of ten men. Marduk used his dagger to slice its arteries off and then plunged it into the beating muscle, ripping downward with all his might.

Tiamat jerked and spasmed as its heart became a useless severed organ.

The enormous serpent died in a sea of its own blood, floating slowly to the bottom of the lake.

Then its belly sliced open with Marduk’s blade and he came out of the great beast and swam upward.

When Marduk broke the surface, he crawled onto shore exhausted. But he had an image to reinforce. So he stood to his full eight-foot naked frame with a proud bravado and lifted his chin toward the entourage of gods and king, and said simply, “Tiamat is dead. Long live Marduk, king of the gods.”

A rousing cheer blistered the shoreline as hundreds of slaves and workers were relieved that their lives would be spared the terrors of the sea serpent. Marduk had suppressed chaos and established his kingdom.

Nimrod filled with a new determination for he now knew they would be unstoppable. No god had ever come close to such a mighty feat of power. A fleeting thought of Ishtar’s demise even accompanied his thrill of victory. His guardian was now king of the gods.

Anu walked up to Marduk with the Tablet of Destinies.

But before he could hand them to him, Enlil stepped out of the crowd and complained, “I want to see the body.”

Marduk looked over at Enlil, and replied, “Oh, I am not finished yet. You
will
see the body.”

Marduk turned to Nimrod and said, “Command your slaves to dredge up the corpse for me with the battle net.”

Nimrod obeyed and Marduk turned back to Enlil. “You are welcome to watch if you still require satisfaction.”

Enlil wondered just what exactly Marduk was planning. Marduk smirked, and then added, “On second thought, I command you and the other gods, as obeisance to my new superiority, to stay and watch me filet this great fish.”

The gods begrudgingly watched and waited as the company of slaves hauled the body of the great sea dragon onto land with the battle net and a few hundred strong arms.

Marduk then retrieved his large battle-axe and proceeded to cut the body of Tiamat in half, from jaws to tail. He chopped and hacked for hours, covered in gargantuan fish blood and guts, until he had two perfect halves of the great monster.

Enlil was disgusted with the brutishness with which Marduk operated. He thought it would be a new era of barbarism under this monster. But of course he dare not speak what everyone else was also thinking.

After Marduk was done cutting the serpent’s corpse in half, he looked to the heavens, saturated in blood and stench and proclaimed, “I am Marduk, king of the gods. And I have split Tiamat like a shellfish. Thus I have created the heavens and the earth out of the body of the great sea dragon. I have established the stars and their paths, the moon and the sun, and the constellations in their course. The Anunnaki gods all bow before me.”

The four high gods bowed. “Annunaki” was another Sumerian word for the gods of the pantheon. It meant “Princely Seed.”

Marduk had made sure that the ceremonial ritual of crowning him king of the gods was performed immediately upon the completion of his corpse splitting. He wanted his enthronement to be as close to his victory as possible for maximum symbolic impact.

His throne had yet to be built in his new temple, but a symbolic one worked just as well, made out of wood, gilded with gold and laden with jewels. The royal house of Nimrod and the four high gods representing the pantheon all participated in the ritual of transferring the crown and the Tablet of Destinies from Enlil to Marduk.

It was all very humiliating for Enlil, but there was really no challenging the mighty strength of Marduk, who now took on a litany of fifty names of greatness read before the observing crowd of Nimrod’s people by Sinleqi, the king’s scholar and scribe.

Sinleqi droned on in his monotonous voice reading from the freshly engraved tablets, “
Marduk
, as Anu, his father called him from his birth, who with the flood-storm his weapon, vanquished the enemy;
Murukka
, creator of all, who rejoices the hearts of the Anunnaki;
Marutukku
, the refuge of his land, city, and people;
Barashakushu
, of wide heart and warm sympathy;
Lugaldimmerankia
, the lord of all the gods of heaven and the underworld…”

Enlil started to get drowsy. Sinleqi’s prattling was dreadfully long and redundant. It went on for what seemed an eternity with names, epithets, and etymologies that served to say the same thing over and over again. How great Marduk is, how glorious he is, what a wondrous and gracious god he is, blah, blah, blah. It reminded Enlil of the pretentious self-aggrandizing Ishtar. These two were complimentary whores of power.