Chapter 3
Iri Geshem — Noah’s 49th year
Noah kissed Emzara on the top of the head and loosened his embrace. “I’ll be home in a little while.”
Emzara glanced at Tubal-Cain and Adira, who were busy saying their farewell for the evening, and then at Aterre, who rested on a low bench on the other side of the room. Shaking her head at Noah, Emzara curled the left side of her mouth. “Behave yourself.”
“Me? Of course.” He chuckled and hitched a thumb toward Aterre. “I’m not the one you need to worry about.”
“Mmhmm.” She gave him a quick kiss. “Let’s go, Adira.”
“I’m coming.”
As Emzara turned to leave, she called back over her shoulder, “Don’t let my husband get too silly tonight.”
Tubal-Cain laughed. “I’m sure he’ll do that on his own.”
“Evening peace, Zara.” Aterre’s playful tone demonstrated he had no intention of heeding her request.
“And that’s our sign to leave.” Emzara shook her head as she held the door open for Adira. She took a final glance at Noah and smiled. “Evening peace, boys.”
Noah smirked and watched her for a moment before closing the door. He picked up his leaf brew from the low table and relaxed on a cushion across from Aterre.
Aterre shifted to make room for Tubal-Cain. “I hate to say it, but pretty soon you won’t have to let her go each night.”
Sitting down, Tubal-Cain sighed. He put his feet up on the table in the center of the room. “Our wedding can’t come soon enough.”
“You two complement each other well.” Aterre turned up his palms one at a time as if weighing one against the other. “She’s pretty and sweet, and you’re ugly and grumpy.”
Tubal-Cain slapped Aterre’s arm with the back of his hand. “You sure you aren’t thinking about Zara and Noah?”
“Oh, them too.”
“Well, if that’s how it works,” Noah said, “then I must be all sorts of dreadful things, because Em is wonderful in every way.”
Tubal-Cain pretended to gag. “Stop him before I lose my evenfeast.”
Noah grinned and threw a pillow at him. “As if you’re any better. Lately, it’s always ‘Adira this’ and ‘Adira that.’ And you aren’t even married yet.”
“He’s right,” Aterre said. “She’s all you talk about.”
Clasping his meaty hands together behind his head, Tubal-Cain reclined. “Beats discussing the weather or blacksmithing.” He eyed Aterre before continuing. “She’s all I want to think about every waking moment of each day.”
“Ugh, you two are intolerable.” Aterre held his palms up. “Since when did our game nights turn into this?”
“Since Adira agreed to be my wife.” Tubal-Cain let his words trail off as if he were daydreaming about her.
“Not again.” Aterre let out an exasperated sigh while the two other men laughed.
“So you really don’t care what your father will think?” Noah asked, eyeing Tubal-Cain.
“I wouldn’t say that I don’t care. Of course I want my father to like her, but we’re so far from him, I’m not sure it’ll be an issue.”
“But isn’t the son of a king supposed to marry another person of high status?” Aterre asked.
“I’ve heard of that in other places, but my father’s the first king of Havil, and he hasn’t been in that position very long. I’m not sure if he’s even given much thought about his successor. That will probably be centuries from now.”
“I can’t imagine you being the king of Havil,” Aterre said.
“Really? Why?”
“I just don’t picture you enduring the strict schedule and all the formalities.” Aterre tilted his head. “And there’s that whole ugly and mean thing.”
A not-so-gentle nudge from Tubal-Cain resulted in a lighthearted wrestling match.
Ignoring the two of them, Noah sipped his brew before setting the vessel on the stony floor. Across the room, salty air wafted through the open window facing the beach, carrying a soft chill along with it. To Noah’s right, a short hallway led to Tubal-Cain’s room across from a kitchen and dining area.
Beyond the outer wall of the house to Noah’s left stood Tubal-Cain’s busy forge. In just three years, the blacksmith had taken on two apprentices, and he still needed another one to meet the steady supply of orders for his metal implements. Noah himself often came by on days off to learn the basics.
“Your place looks like it’s almost ready,” Noah said.
Tubal-Cain tried to catch his breath. “And I have you to thank for that. I’ve told you before, you’re the best woodworker I’ve ever seen.”
Noah winked. “I know.”
Aterre cleared his throat. “And you have me to thank for getting you and Adira together.”
Tubal-Cain laughed. “Yes, I suppose I should thank you for the hundredth time for locking Adira and me in the forge’s office so that I’d be forced to talk to her.”
“You’re welcome,” Aterre said. “Come to think of it, Noah, I’m the one that brought you and Zara together, too.”
“Yes, and I believe I’ve already thanked you a hundred times. Isn’t that enough?”
Aterre grinned. “Once more would be nice.”
“Thank you for embarrassing me in front of Em.”
Tubal-Cain stroked the short beard on his chin. “You know, you should open up a shop where you find matches for people. You could call it, You’ll Thank Me Someday.”
The three men laughed as Noah and Tubal-Cain tried to outdo one another over names for the proposed store.
Noah sat up straight and looked at Aterre. “Wait, I have a better idea. A much better idea.”
“Well, it can’t be any worse than the last one.” Aterre dramatically dropped his head into his hands.
Noah pointed at his friend. “Since you played such a key role in helping each of us find a wife, I think we should return the favor.”
Tubal-Cain bolted upright. “That’s a great idea. It’s our turn to play matchmaker.”
Aterre shook his head. “I was wrong. It could be worse.”
“No, this is perfect.” Noah squinted as he pretended to size up Aterre. “Let’s see. I’ve got just the right person in mind.”
Aterre feigned disinterest. “Who?
Noah tried to stifle his amusement. “How about Pohal?”
Aterre crinkled his nose. “No thanks.”
“Why not? She’s a good baker,” Tubal-Cain said. “You’d be well fed and. . . .”
“Not interested.”
“Why not?” Noah asked, knowing full well the answer. Aterre frequently complained about her squeaky, high-pitched voice. “Just think, she could sing you to sleep every night.”
Aterre snorted. “No, thank you. I’d rather listen to Taht sing a lullaby.”
Through momentary breaks in his laughter, Tubal-Cain said, “I’ve got one.”
Aterre rolled his eyes. “This ought to be good.”
“What about Bakur’s niece, Ehiluel?”
Aterre folded his arms. “Nope. Not interested.”
“What’s wrong with her?” Tubal-Cain asked. “She’s nice. She’s pretty. She’s intelli — oh, that’s the problem. She’s smart.”
“No, that’s not it.” Aterre folded his arms across his chest. “I’m just not attracted to her.”
“Fine, so you’re not interested in the pretty type.” Tubal-Cain looked at Noah and shrugged. “Picky picky.” He stared at the floor before shifting his gaze back to Aterre. “I know!”
Aterre rolled his eyes. “How long do I have to put up with this?”
“As long as it takes,” Noah said, enjoying the chance to tease his friend.
“Fletti, the stonemason’s daughter.”
“Are you crazy?” Aterre asked.
Tubal-Cain feigned offense. “What? I think she likes you.”
“Yeah, she asked about you the last time I saw her.” Noah leaned in and winked. “She said she wanted to kiss you.”
“Ah, I knew it,” Tubal-Cain said. “She’s the one.”
Aterre shook his head. “Right, like she’d say that to either of you madmen.”
Noah angled his head to one side and challenged his friend. “But what if she did?”
Aterre yawned. “I’d rather kiss a grendec.”
All three erupted in laughter.
After several moments, Noah tried to catch his breath as an idea came to mind, but it only made him laugh harder. Finally, he held up a hand and fought to put on a serious face. “Alright, I found your perfect match. Last one.”
“It’d better be.” Aterre’s expression showed that he had grown weary of this game.
“Who is it?” Tubal-Cain asked before taking a drink of his leaf brew.
Noah strained to keep his composure. “She lives close by.”
“Who?” Aterre asked.
“You’re comfortable around her. She’s got several qualities to make the ideal wife and . . . she’s not too much older than you.”
Noah waited to allow the tension to build. When he could no longer hold it in, he blurted out, “Nmir!”
Aterre stared at Noah in disbelief. “She’s probably 600!”
Tubal-Cain sprayed the contents of his mouth all over the table as he keeled over in raucous laughter. Stoically, Aterre crossed his arms until he cracked and joined Tubal-Cain’s merriment.
Noah reared back and howled until his stomach hurt.
The cacophony almost drowned out a knock at the door. Being closest to the entrance, Noah barely heard the sound and pulled himself up, desperately trying to gather his wits.
Another knock sounded, followed by a woman’s voice. “Hello? Are you still open for business?”
As if he had been bitten, Aterre jerked to his feet and pushed his fingers through his hair. “I’ll get it.”
Tubal-Cain blocked his path. “She’s asking for the blacksmith. That’s me.” Tubal-Cain walked to the door and opened it. “May I help you?”
“Evening peace.” The woman’s soft voice stood in sharp contrast to the male jocularity moments earlier. “I’m sorry for disturbing you this late at night, but the latch to our bovar pen broke, and we need it repaired as soon as possible.”
Tubal-Cain took the damaged copper part from her. “Certainly. Please, come inside.”
Noah started to introduce himself, but then he recognized her as Jitzel, Cada’s daughter. No longer the little girl who brought water to her father’s farmhands on hot days, Jitzel had transformed into a beautiful young woman. Standing nearly as tall as Aterre, her braided brown hair dropped to the middle of her back beneath her broad shoulders. Her strong, dark arms reminded Noah of his mother’s arms — arms that had labored outdoors for countless days.
Her light brown eyes blinked. “Oh, hello, Noah. I haven’t seen you in so long, but Aterre talks about you from time to time.”
Noah nodded. “It’s good to see you again.”
Jitzel looked past Noah and quickly glanced away. “Aterre. What are you doing here?”
Aterre hurried to join them near the door. “Evening peace. It’s um . . . I, uh . . . what happened to the gate?”
Jitzel peeked up at him and blushed. “I’m not sure. All I know is that Father wants it fixed right away. And I . . .” She looked at Aterre again. “And since I was already planning to head into town, here I am.”
“You came to the right place.” Tubal-Cain bent down to tie on his sandals. “I can bend this piece back into shape, and that should last you for a little while. But give me a few days, and I’ll make one that’s much stronger.”
“Wonderful.” Jitzel turned away from Aterre and faced Tubal-Cain. “Father will be so grateful.”
“I like when the boss is happy,” Aterre said. “Jitzel, what . . . why were . . .” He took a deep breath.
Noah had never seen his friend flustered like this before. Is this what I was like around Em? Oh, this is going to be amusing.
“Why were you planning to come into town tonight?” Aterre finally asked.
Jitzel smiled and looked away again.
A knowing grin crept across Noah’s lips, and he wished his friend would look over to catch his expression, but Aterre was too absorbed to notice.
“I wanted to pick up a few supplies.” She gestured to the small pack slung over her shoulder. “And I haven’t been across the river in a long time. I guess I missed seeing different faces.”
Tubal-Cain stepped past her into the doorway. “The tools I need are in the shop. Anyone want to join me?”
Although longing for some playful revenge, Noah decided not to embarrass Aterre. At least for now.
“I’d like to see your workplace,” Jitzel said before following him outside. She glanced over her shoulder. “Are you coming too?”
“We’ll be right there.” Noah put a hand on Aterre’s shoulder to prevent him from rushing after her. Keeping his voice down, he asked, “Would you rather continue stammering in here, or do you prefer to make a fool of yourself in the shop?”
Aterre tensed. “Don’t you dare say anything.”
“No wonder you weren’t interested in any of the women we mentioned.” Noah grinned.
“I mean it, Noah.”
“So now you know how it feels to be on the other side. It’s not easy, is it?”
“I hate it. I wish I could say the right words around her.”
Noah chuckled. “I could do it for you.”
“Don’t. I work for her father, and. . . .”
Noah raised his eyebrows. “That didn’t stop you from embarrassing me in front of Em.”
Aterre’s eyes widened. Noah had rarely witnessed this level of desperation in his friend. “Please. I’m begging you.”
Sighing, Noah held the door open. “I’ll behave.”
Aterre eased his shoulders. “And in return for that, I promise never to set you up with anyone ever again.”
“Haha. Deal.”
They stepped outside, into the fading light, and Noah spotted Tubal-Cain and Jitzel close to the forge. “Come on, Aterre. Don’t let her get away.” He jogged to catch up to them, Aterre on his heels.
“Jitzel,” Noah said, “it’s already getting pretty dark, and this will take a little while.” He grinned at Aterre. “I think one of us should make sure you get home safely.”
“Thank you, Noah,” she said. “That’s very sweet of you, but . . .”
“I’m sure Aterre wouldn’t mind, would you?”
Aterre scratched the back of his neck and looked at her. “No, um, I mean, I’d be happy to walk you home.” He inhaled. “That is, if you don’t mind.”
Jitzel blushed. “I’d like that. Thank you.”
Aterre flinched and bit his lip.
“I think that’s his way of saying, ‘You’re welcome,’ ” Tubal-Cain said.
Jitzel looked away. “I know. He doesn’t talk much.”
“Who? Him? He talks all the time.” Tubal-Cain paused and then slowly lifted his head as he seemed to grasp the situation.
“Does he?” A bemused expression crossed Jitzel’s face, and she laid a hand on Aterre’s forearm. “You’re so quiet at work when I bring you your midmeal.”
“That sure is strange.” Noah caught Tubal-Cain’s attention. “Any idea why he’d be so quiet at work?”
Tubal-Cain looked straight at Jitzel. “I can only think of one reason.” He held up the broken latch. “I’d better repair this so you two can enjoy your evening together. Just the two of you. Walking and talking.”
Aterre froze and Jitzel stared at the floor. But she didn’t let go of his arm.