Free Enoch Primordial (Chronicles of the Nephilim) by Brian Godawa Page A

monsters tightened their circle on Uriel, lashing, swinging, and jabbing their weapons. Uriel appeared to be weakening.
    He had only been drawing them in closer. He stretched out his two swords like windmill blades. He spun like a whirlwind in this strange position. His shearing blades took out the circle of the enemy surrounding him. It was awe inspiring.
    Not one Naphil got past these mighty warriors of Elohim.
    Enoch found himself thinking that it was a good thing he had changed allegiance to this distant god of his fathers. His servants were just. And they shared the same enemy. This was good. This was very good.
     
    The archangels walked toward Enoch.
    Methuselah and Edna drew near to listen in.
    The angels were exhausted. These warriors fought like gods, but they were still finite created beings with flesh. They suffered the burdens of that flesh. They were drenched in sweat and breathing hard. Nephilim were not easy to kill.
    As they approached the astonished Enoch and his family, they muttered under their breath to each other. “Six kills to your four. Would you like me to teach you some tactics?” said Uriel.
    “Five to five,” countered Gabriel. “That one we did together.”
    “You mean the one I killed ,” said Uriel.
    “After I disarmed him,” retorted Gabriel.
    “Was that before or after you dropped your sword?” said Uriel.
    “I did not ‘drop’ my sword,” said Gabriel. “Three of them hit me at once.”
    “Okay, okay, they disarmed you ,” said Uriel with a grin. Then he added, “But then, if we both killed him, then that would make it five and a half to four and a half.”
    They arrived at the humans, and snapped out of their bickering.
    “I am famished. Let us eat something,” said Uriel.
    Enoch stepped backward fearfully. Uriel paused, then laughed, “Fret not, Enoch, we are not going to eat you. Truth be told, we would not even eat those Nephilim.”
    Edna scrunched her face in disgust. This archangel was rather profane. She wondered if his god Elohim had that kind of sick sense of humor.
    Gabriel soothed their anxiety. “Elohim sent us to help you. We brought these boats for you to take the Tigris and Diyala rivers up into the Zagros where you can follow the rest of your trip on foot in relatively safe passage.”
    Enoch protested, “But the rivers flow south. We do not know how to sail, and we do not have the strength to man the oars to get upstream.”
    “Are you sure?” asked Gabriel.
    “Yes, I am sure,” Enoch shot back. “Unless this Elohim of yours would like to perform another miracle and change the course of the rivers from south to north.” His sarcasm dripped a bit heavily after having just been delivered by this servant of Elohim.
    Uriel raised his hand and gestured with his finger for Enoch to follow him.
    Enoch trailed behind him to the bank of the river. The others of the clan shadowed them. Enoch looked out onto the river and lost his breath.
    It was flowing north. The river actually flowed in the opposite direction than it had been from the beginning of time.
    “ It is a miracle,” exclaimed Enoch, his eyes and mouth wide open.
    Gabriel smiled . “You will learn to be more grateful. It comes with experience.”
    Uriel leaned in close to Enoch and murmured, “And you also need to stop allowing your mouth to gape open when you are in awe. It is unflattering.”
    Enoch snapped his mouth closed.
    Methuselah spoke softly into his father’s ear, “Well, we better not disappoint Elohim, father.”
    “Board the boats,” Enoch said to the tribe.
    “Wait a minute,” interrupted Edna.
    Everyone stopped and looked at her. Enoch thought the little pipsqueak was bold. She stared straight at Methuselah with her teasing eyes. It made him wary. She normally pulled that expression on him when she occasionally beat him in a game or prank.
    She proudly proclaimed, “Methuselah has a promise to fulfill.”
    He sighed. Then a big fat grin burst across his face, and he