Free Abraham Allegiant (Chronicles of the Nephilim Book 4) by Brian Godawa Page B

here is the key.”
    Mastema’s eyes brightened with interest as Ishtar concluded, “It dawned on me that once Elohim prophesied something, it was sure to come to pass. So why fight it? Why not use it to our advantage? After all, he is the one who promised there would be two seedlines of enmity.”
    “You are cunning,” said Mastema.
    Ishtar crowed, “Instead of defying Elohim’s prophecy, we will simply fulfill it as instruments of his own will.”
    Mastema grinned. “We will breed his seedline of opposition. We will give him his war.”
    Canaan’s knees almost gave out. He realized he was in over his head. He was a puny pawn in a very dangerous game of gods and men.
    Mastema noticed. He bent down and said with a calming voice, “Do not be fearful, human. You will be a patriarch, a king among men. You will be completely under the good graces of our protection. What more could you ask for?”
    Maybe the protection of Elohim , thought Canaan. But that was too late. He had already been cursed of Elohim, so this giant divinity was right. He was in the most capable hands of power in the pantheon.
    Mastema turned to Ishtar with an interrogating demeanor. And interrogation was his specialty.
    He said, “And what exactly do you want as reward for hatching your brilliant scheme, Ishtar?”
    “Why to oversee it, of course,” she said like an innocent lamb.
    “Of course,” Mastema mimicked with distrust. “But you are correct. My position as the satan in the heavenly court is far too important and public. You are an outcast of the pantheon. You can pursue this without need of the pantheon’s knowledge or approval.”
    “It would be our little secret,” purred Ishtar in agreement.
    Mastema said, “You should take on the identity of a local deity as disguise.”
    “I like who I am,” said Ishtar with a tinge of stubborn inflexibility.
    Mastema countered, “Do not worry, the goddess Ashtart fits you well. Same persona, new name, established authority as the Canaanite goddess of sex and war.”
    “Well, in that case, Ashtart, it is,” said Ishtar. She had done this before. She liked the idea of being a moving target, too difficult for her enemies to keep track of constantly changing identities.
    “I will alert the Canaanite deities so they will not rise up against you,” said Mastema.
    “Who are they?” she said.
    “The high god El and his consort Asherah, Molech, god of the underworld, and Dagon, god of fertility and the sea.”
    “Will the high god’s pride of place become a problem?”
    “El is my puppet,” said Mastema. “The old man will not be trouble. And he is stationed in the far northern regions.”
    “I defer to your brilliance,” said Ishtar.
    “Spare me the flattery, bitch goddess,” said Mastema. “I have just the southern location for you to do it.”
    “I am at your command,” said Ishtar. But she thought, I could slice you in half, you pompous ingrate. If it were not for your devious legal hegemony.
    Oh, how she hated the power of law. She knew he would not hesitate to crush her with it if she caused him any trouble.
    Mastema said, “There is a confederation of five tribes in the southern Jordan valley of the Salt Sea. It is the most fertile area in the Levant with rich resources, and the tribes are ripe for leadership to unite them into a pentapolis of five city-states. Go there and build those cities.”
    “What are the tribes?” asked Ishtar.
    “Admah, Zeboiim, Zoar, Sodom, and Gomorrah. They are a particularly debauched people who I am sure will be open to your ‘creative depravity.’”
    Ishtar could not help but grin. This was going to be fun.
    “Well, we had better get hopping, Canaan” said Ishtar. “We have a seedline to breed — and an army to build.”

Chapter 13
    Etemenanki, the holy temple-tower of Babylon, took a year to build. The city and its walls were not complete yet, but the temple area was a priority, so Nimrod finished it along with Marduk’s Esagila