Before the Fall - 1. Part One: Ascent

The day was grey and wet. It had seen the first rainfall of the season and the dry earth underneath had turned to mud. Epheriel watched the world, the way it knew it must. It was its nature. It was a watcher, a lower caste of angel, created to observe mankind and nothing more.

It had been assigned this little part of this little world to watch. It was a small village, with kind little people, though lately, Epheriel had sensed a disturbance among them. Someone here carried evil intent.

The dark, dusk-like quality of the day was not an advantage to Epheriel. Had it been sunny, the angel would have been completely invisible, but in this light, its faintly glowing, shadowy form would risk being seen if it circled down to watch closer. But then the sun broke through the clouds and Epheriel took advantage of the light and flew down to the little village. Once there, it changed its form into that of a small bird and flew to one of the straw-covered rooftops. It knew this rooftop well, for it had spent many a hot, sunny day up there watching the one who lived in this house; a young man of twenty years by the name of Jair.

Jair was known throughout his whole village as a kind man and a fierce warrior. He abhorred killing but would do anything to keep his village and the ones he loved safe. All of that was enough to pique the angel’s interest, but Epheriel often watched Jair for the simple reason of his beauty. He looked much like other men, with dark hair, dark eyes, and dusky skin, but his eyes blazed with passion and love for all living things and his goodness shone about him like a bright light. Epheriel longed to bask in that light, to feel its heat, if only for a moment.

So Epheriel watched Jair every day. Watched as he hunted in the forest and ate in the evening. When he woke up in the morning, and when he went to sleep at night. Epheriel watched the village, but most of all, it watched Jair.

Jair did not have any wives, the way other villagers did. He lived alone in his small house. No wives, no children, no family at all, for his father had passed some years ago, and Jair had no siblings but one who died in the womb with his mother when Jair was but a child. Yet he was never short on company, for all the villagers loved him and wanted to be near him. Perhaps they, too, could sense his light, even if they could not see it. Had Epheriel not been one itself, it might have thought Jair was an angel.

But alas, he was not, and soon he would vanish from this world, as all mortal men must, their lives gone in but the blink of an eye. Epheriel mourned the day when Jair’s light would go out, extinguished forever, and Epheriel must go on watching the world alone.

Suddenly, Epheriel once more felt the presence of evil intent. It looked around, but too many people were gathered in the village square. It looked around at the two men lighting the guard’s fire for the night, the women cooking food and making pottery, the children playing games, the old men chatting quietly. And the houses around were also full of life, mothers nursing, babies sleeping. It was difficult to isolate those thoughts, that intent.

And then, there he was. Epheriel felt it before it saw it. It turned its little bird’s head and saw Jair exit the forest, carrying four large rabbits over his shoulder. Other men followed behind him, carrying other felled prey. All carried bows and arrows or spears on their backs. They were far away, but Epheriel could tell Jair apart from the others, for he shone bright as the sun. When the villagers saw the hunters return, the evil thought was drowned out by a wave of joy as several children ran to greet them. Just before that happened, however, the thought had been empowered and Epheriel had felt sickened by a lash of hatred. Hatred aimed toward the beautiful Jair.

Ω

Jair awoke suddenly. He felt a presence in his home but could see nothing when he sat up. The house was dark save for the faint embers of his hearth, but he was a hunter with keen eyesight and yet he could not see the presence he felt so strongly. But then, in a room full of shadows, it is hard to tell one shadow from another.

Movement. Jair sat up straight and stared into the shadows. He crawled out from under his furs and crept naked across the dirt floor, to the table where his oil lamp stood. He struck the flint until the wick lit and a small flame flickered, and then he saw the smoke swirl around a shadow that was not a human shadow. A shadow that stood in the room, across the table from him, cast by no light. Jair instinctively reached for his knife.

‘Do not be afraid,’ whispered the shadow. ‘I will not harm you.’

Jair frowned and lowered the knife. The flame was growing brighter, and as he watched the smoke dance about the shadow, he realised it was glowing faintly in the lamplight. ‘What are you?’ he asked, realising that this was a more important question than ‘who’.

‘I am a watcher,’ replied the shadow. ‘I am the sort of creature your people call angels.’

‘My father saw an angel once,’ said Jair. ‘He said it shone bright as the sun. You’re no angel.’

‘Angels come in different forms, Jair,’ said the shadow. Its voice was clear, pure, and could not be identified as male or female. ‘I am . . . a lesser angel.’

‘How do you know my name?’ asked Jair suspiciously.

‘As I said. I am a watcher. I have watched you and your village for some time. My name is Epheriel.’

‘Why are you watching me?’

‘I am watching your village,’ Epheriel corrected him. ‘Watching you is . . . part of that.’

‘If that’s true, then why are you in my house in the middle of the night?’ asked Jair. ‘Why are you not up there, watching the entire village?’

‘I came to warn you,’ said Epheriel. ‘You are the best hunter and greatest warrior of this village, are you not? There is someone amongst you, Jair, who harbours evil intent. Someone who wishes to destroy you. I am not yet certain who it is, but he bears you ill will. I am guarding you.’

Jair sat still by the lamp for a little while, looking at the shadow in the dark. But as his eyes grew accustomed, its features seemed to grow a bit clearer. It was man-shaped, slim. Its form shimmered like the air on a hot day. Its face was human and carried a warm, kind smile, and it had, he now saw, wings on its back, which glowed brighter than the rest of it. It was beautiful.

It had not tried to hurt him yet.

As if reading his mind, Epheriel said, ‘Go to sleep. I will wake you if danger comes. I will be here, watching.’

Jair nodded. He believed the angel. He had a strong feeling that a creature like that could not lie even if it wanted to. He put out his light, crawled back under the furs on his simple wooden bed, and after a while, he fell asleep.

Ω

Jair woke up the following morning to find bright sunlight streaming into his house through the window and the smoke hole. He sat upright and looked about the room. He could not see the shadow of Epheriel anywhere. ‘Watcher?’ he whispered. ‘Are you there?’

‘I am here,’ replied the voice of the angel. ‘You cannot see me in all this light. And my name is Epheriel. Surely your monkey brain can remember as much?’

Jair frowned. ‘I remember. There’s no need to be sarcastic.’

Epheriel was silent for a moment. ‘I apologise,’ it said at last. ‘I am . . . unaccustomed to conversing with mortals. I shall try harder.’

‘And I’ll try harder to call you Epheriel,’ said Jair and smiled.

Epheriel quivered upon hearing its name uttered from those lips, and it longed suddenly to touch them. So much so that it hurt to see that bright figure before it. There was something special about Jair. His goodness shone brighter than most angels.

‘Get dressed, Jair,’ it said. Even though Jair could not see where it was looking in the bright morning light, Epheriel turned away from his nakedness as he stood. Mortals, it knew, were shy creatures who felt shame about their bodies. Epheriel found it strange, for the Lord had made them that way because it was the most beautiful form They could imagine. Epheriel had never understood why, until now.

‘So, who is this person who harbours evil thoughts?’ asked Jair.

In its awe of being so near the young man, Epheriel had nearly forgotten about its original purpose in coming here. ‘I do not know,’ it said. ‘That is why I am watching you. So that I will be able to tell you when I find out.’

‘How will you know?’ asked Jair, wrapping his skirt around his waist.

‘My perception of feelings is vague,’ said Epheriel. ‘I can sense a thought or feeling in someone, but if there are many people present I cannot see who the thought or feeling belongs to.’

‘But now, with only you and I, you can read my thoughts?’ Jair turned in the general direction of Epheriel’s voice and tried to see it. He thought he saw a shimmer in the air and focused on that.

‘I could, but I choose not to,’ said Epheriel, who stood a bit to the right of where Jair was looking, the shimmer but a trick of the light.

‘And what if I were the one harbouring evil intent?’ asked Jair, giving up his search and tying on his belt to hold the skirt up.

‘You are not,’ replied Epheriel simply. ‘I sense the thought when you are not present, and why should you harbour such hatred toward yourself?’ It chose not to mention the light of goodness that shone about the young man at all times.

Jair said nothing, slid his knife into his belt, and exited the hut. He always rose with the sun, and only a few people had emerged from their houses to begin the day’s work. The men who had been on watch throughout the night were returning to their homes to sleep until midday. Epheriel followed Jair down to the stream, where he filled his waterskin. Epheriel remained silent. It knew that Jair felt its presence, like he had in the house the previous night.

‘Are you male or female, Epheriel?’ he asked, taking a sip from the skin.

‘Neither,’ Epheriel replied. ‘Angels have no sex.’

Jair nodded thoughtfully. ‘I see.’ It made sense. Why should angels have gender? They were immortal beings and they did not, he supposed, procreate as mortal creatures did. The thought made him blush and he turned away from Epheriel’s voice, setting off back toward the village.

As they reached the village again, Epheriel suddenly felt the evil intent. It was overwhelmingly strong, and the angel was forced to stop. It felt as though something clenched at its entire being and crushed it briefly. But then the feeling ebbed and Epheriel looked around fearfully. There were more people about now, but it could not be certain which of them had thought it. Women were walking down to the stream to fetch water for cooking. Men were talking loudly, children were playing, and two young girls were chatting in hushed tones, glancing occasionally at the young hunters and giggling. Their gazes lingered on Jair, and Epheriel could sense their emotions clearly. It felt a pang of something it had not experienced before and realised it was jealousy.

Shaking its thoughts, Epheriel pulled up close to Jair and whispered in his ear, ‘I felt it again. Do not answer now, but try to think: Whom here do you not trust?’

Ω

Darkness was falling. As always at this time, the hearths were lit in the many houses in the village. Jair circled most nights, eating with one family or another and always welcome anywhere. This night, he had been invited to share his meal with the village Elder and his family. He was a large, round man of nearly fifty; an old man. He had six children with his two wives. Four of them were married, three of them with children and the fourth with one on the way. His two married daughters were not present; one had been wed to a man in a neighbouring village and the other, Eleora, ate with her husband the bronzesmith’s family, as was custom.

Epheriel had turned itself into a little insect and sat quietly on Jair’s shoulder. They were all drinking wine while they waited for the four large rabbits to cook; the same rabbits Jair had caught the previous day. They all sat on stools around the large table by the hearth, ten people, including Jair, as the children had already eaten, and as the last rays of the sun disappeared behind the mountains in the east, the Elder put down his cup and blessed their food.

‘Oh, El Shaddai, we ask that you bless this meal and us who partake in it, and that you protect us from the evils in the dark.’

Jair bowed his head while the Elder spoke. The rituals humans constructed around their beliefs fascinated Epheriel, as did the names they gave their deities. El Shaddai, God the Almighty. El Elyon, God Most High. All versions of the same. It wondered for a moment whether it should tell Jair some of this, but decided at last that the divine was not for it to reveal.

The rabbits were done now and the younger of the Elder’s wives began to dish out food; chunks of rabbit, fresh-baked bread, figs and dates. Then they ate.

‘I’ve never seen anybody else hunt the way you do,’ said the Elder’s youngest son, Joseph. He was fourteen and also a hunter, but still a novice. ‘Your rabbit traps are very clever, and the way you shot that gazelle last week . . .’

‘Thank you.’ Jair smiled. ‘Glory to El Shaddai. I’m sure He guides my arrows.’

‘Don’t underrate your own talent, Jair,’ said Joseph’s eldest brother. ‘False modesty doesn’t become you.’

‘Shimon!’ said the Elder sharply. ‘I won’t have you disrespecting our village’s mightiest warrior! Modesty is a virtue in the eyes of the Lord.’

‘Sorry, Father.’ Shimon had the decency to look ashamed. ‘I beg your pardon, Jair. I didn’t mean to cause offence.’

‘You did not,’ said Jair, still smiling.

‘May I fill your cup, Jair?’ said Miryam, the Elder’s youngest daughter and Joseph’s twin, who was not yet married. She was a stout, pretty girl of fourteen. She smiled at Jair.

‘Thank you.’ He offered up his cup and she filled it with wine. Jair tried to ignore the look she gave him while she poured. He knew the women of the village found him handsome. He knew he was a skilled hunter and that he was perceived as a great warrior. It was little wonder that some of the girls were interested in him.

Epheriel also perceived Miryam’s interest. It could sense her intent in offering attentions to Jair, though angelic senses were not strictly needed for it. She was overt enough, staring at him for some time, taking in his muscular arms and beautiful face, and then blushing before looking away again.

The Elder, too, seemed to have noticed this. ‘Jair,’ he said. ‘You have taken no wives, have you?’

Jair was taken aback by the question. Epheriel felt a rush of the same emotion it had felt in the village square that morning. ‘No, Elder,’ said Jair at last. ‘I haven’t.’

The Elder hummed in his deep voice. ‘My Miryam is a strong girl,’ he continued. ‘She could bear you many sons, and she’s pure. I can pay a good dowry if you want her.’

Miryam blushed bright red. Epheriel felt Jair’s indecision. The Elder said nothing more, but looked intently at Jair, studying his expression. His sons and their wives were pretending not to listen in but had stopped eating, and it was quiet around the table.

Jair did not wish to cause conflict, but he did not wish to marry Miryam either. She was a beautiful young girl, and her father spoke the truth; she was strong and pure. Yet he felt no interest in her.

‘Decline!’ Epheriel whispered urgently from its perch near Jair’s ear. ‘You must not accept. Please!’ It could not explain to itself why it was so adamant.

Jair hesitated only a moment longer. ‘I’m sorry, Elder, but I can’t accept your kind offer,’ he said, casting down his gaze.

‘Hm. Why not?’ the Elder demanded.

Jair licked his lips, then said the first thing that came into his head. ‘I am . . . watched by angels.’ The women gasped and the Elder frowned. ‘I have sworn to wed no woman,’ Jair continued, his eyes meeting the Elder’s once again. ‘I’m sorry. This is why I have no wives. I’m sworn to El Shaddai.’

Ω

‘Do you understand what blasphemy you just spoke?’ said Epheriel angrily. They were in Jair’s house and it had returned to its own form. In only the dim firelight, it was quite visible now. ‘You lied in the Lord’s name! You are not sworn to El Shaddai! If it hears . . . Oh, if They heard . . . Do you realise what would happen to me?’

‘Would you have preferred me to wed Miryam?’ Jair spun around to face the angel. ‘You told me to decline. I had to say something! I did what I must, Epheriel. And it worked, didn’t it? No fights, no arguments, and no one was hurt. And . . . It was only half a lie. I am watched by angels.’

‘You are watched by one angel.’

Jair fell silent. He turned his back on the angel and took a deep breath. ‘But you are here,’ he said, turning to face it once more. ‘You won’t leave me, will you, Epheriel?’

‘No, Jair,’ replied Epheriel with a sigh. ‘I will not. But I cannot protect you. I can only watch. My physical form is of softer material than yours.’

‘But you can take other forms,’ said Jair. ‘Could you take that of a man?’

‘Perhaps,’ said Epheriel. ‘I have never tried. But the fact that I can change my shape at will is proof of how inconstant my physical form is. I . . . I am only a watcher. I am not among the higher choirs of the Heavenly Host. I was not made to fight or protect. I am . . . fragile.’ It hated to say it, as much as it was true. It wished with all its being that it could protect Jair from whatever evil wanted to hurt him.

‘Yes,’ said Jair and they both fell silent. ‘I am sorry, Epheriel,’ he said after a few moments. ‘So sorry. I don’t want to cause you any trouble. If they are to punish anyone, it should be me.’

‘No, Jair.’ Epheriel sighed. ‘You are the last person who should be punished. If you only knew . . . I see such goodness in you.’

Jair smiled sadly. ‘I fear then you’ve been deceived, or are deceiving yourself. There’s nothing special about me.’

He turned away and began to undress for bed. Epheriel averted its eyes, not wishing to intrude, but it was hard not to look at the beautiful form before it, the rippling archer’s muscles under skin that looked so warm.

‘I thought about what you asked,’ said Jair. ‘About who could hold a grudge against me.’ He sat down on his bed and carefully began to sharpen his knife with a stone. Epheriel looked at him again. ‘I can think of no particular person,’ Jair continued. ‘These are good people. I know each of them. Last year, when the Sumerians sought to overtake our village, I faced them. I spoke to their leader and they left, deciding our village wasn’t worth razing.’

‘And you claim not to be special,’ said Epheriel softly. Jair ignored it.

‘The people believe I fought them off single-handed. They wouldn’t listen when I told them I didn’t. They thought I was just being modest. So I let them think what they want. People believe what they need to believe. This is why I’m considered a great warrior, but I’m not. I’m just a hunter. I’m a good one, but still, that’s all I am. I can’t understand why one of them should dislike me.’

‘The minds of men are curious things,’ said Epheriel, sitting down next to him, and Jair felt something like a cool breeze where the angel’s form brushed his shoulder. ‘Men are jealous beings. It could be that your strength and kindness is what would make someone hate you.’

‘I don’t understand my people.’ Jair sheathed his sharpened knife. ‘I don’t understand men or women.’ A silence passed between them. Then the young man spoke again. ‘Why did you want me to decline the Elder’s offer?’ he inquired.

If Epheriel were human, it might have blushed, but it quickly composed itself and replied, ‘A woman would make it harder for me to watch you and warn you of danger. I would not be able to speak to you whilst she was present. And a woman would mean . . . pleasures of the flesh. It would be inconvenient.’ It paused, and Jair blushed, turning away to conceal it. ‘But perhaps that was cruel of me. You may wish to take a wife, and that girl would be as good as any, I am sure.’

‘I have no interest in such things,’ Jair murmured, unwilling to meet the angel’s gaze. ‘Miryam doesn’t intrigue me in the slightest. Nor has any woman, so far.’

Epheriel felt a certain pleasure upon hearing this. It stood again. ‘You must sleep now, Jair. You need to be alert tomorrow. In case . . . As I said, I cannot protect you.’

‘By being here you do protect me, Epheriel. You needn’t be able to fight to do that.’ Jair crept underneath the furs. The night was chilly, though the days were hot. Epheriel sat on the floor, underneath the window.

Somewhere halfway through the night, Epheriel sensed a presence on the roof. It was not whomever harboured the evil intent. It was not a human presence at all. It recognised it, and presently it flew out of the window and up onto the roof. The guards by the fire were facing in a different direction. Epheriel could feel their weariness. It was lucky they could not see the being on the roof. Epheriel instantly knew it.

‘Epheriel.’ The angel embraced Epheriel gently.

‘Tamiel!’ Epheriel, though only mildly surprised, was pleased to see its old friend. Tamiel was a higher caste of angel, and appeared illuminated by divine light. The light that shone on Tamiel was silvery and bright, and its great wings shone with the same hue. Next to Tamiel, Epheriel looked even more grey and shadow-like, but it had never minded in the least. Tamiel was the only true friend it had ever had. Friendships were not common amongst angels.

‘So, this is your post, is it?’ said Tamiel, smiling. ‘And in there sleeps the man you have taken upon yourself to watch so closely.’ It pointed down through the smoke hole.

‘So you know . . .’ said Epheriel, feeling suddenly anxious. ‘Do They know as well?’

‘Of course They know. They know everything. The Lord sees all. You should know this, my brother.’

Epheriel cast down its eyes. ‘Have you come to deal me my punishment, then?’ it whispered.

‘No,’ said Tamiel softly. ‘They wish you to continue what you are doing. There is something here that is not of the Lord. Our job as angels is to purge the world of ungodly and evil things. Do your job, Epheriel.’

Tamiel dropped to the ground and looked in through the window. Epheriel followed. ‘I can see why he attracts you,’ said Tamiel. ‘He glows.’

‘I know,’ said Epheriel. ‘He is so good, it pains me to see. You or I could never be as good as he.’

‘You desire him.’ It was not a question, but a statement. Epheriel looked away again. It was true. If Tamiel could see it, so must any angel.

‘Is it sin?’ asked Epheriel in a hushed voice.

‘Angels do not sin. That is a human matter.’ Tamiel turned to Epheriel and embraced it again. ‘Do not worry, Epheriel,’ it said. The two heavenly beings broke apart and Tamiel smiled. ‘And Azazel said to send its regards.’ Then it took to its wings and left Epheriel alone. The watcher went back inside to his charge, who slept peacefully throughout the night.

Angels do not require sleep, but near dawn Epheriel was dozing a bit when suddenly it felt it again. The thought. The evil intent. It stood abruptly and stared out of the window. It could see the two fireguards and a few night birds and bats, but no one else. But then it saw the shape coming out from the clump of trees. The figure was hooded and ran over the patchy grass and brown earth toward the village. Epheriel could not see his face, and then he disappeared among the houses. Epheriel flew out the window, trying to see which house the figure went inside, but alas, he was already gone.

When it returned to the house, Jair stirred. ‘Is it morning?’ he asked sleepily. He saw Epheriel’s shadowy form by the window. ‘Is something the matter?’

‘I saw . . . someone,’ said Epheriel. ‘I do not know who, but I felt it, the evil intent, the hatred toward you.’

‘Someone was out there in the middle of the night?’

‘Yes. He came out from among the trees. At least I think it was a he . . .’

‘It cannot have been one of us,’ said Jair, shaking his head. ‘I’ll have to ask the Elder if any strangers have arrived whom I’ve yet to meet.’

‘You are naïve,’ said Epheriel, a hint of annoyance in its voice.

Jair frowned at it. ‘I would rather be naïve than cynical.’ He stood and got dressed, fastening the knife to his belt as usual. Then he picked up his waterskin and walked down to the stream as the sun began to rise.

Ω

No, the Elder said when he asked, no one new had shown up in the village. There was no one Jair had not met. So he went to the fire guards and asked if either of them had seen someone go out in the middle of the night, but they had seen nothing at all. Jair was puzzled. No one left the village at night alone. It was dangerous and everyone knew this.

Then came the day’s chores and Jair forgot his worries. Today was not a hunting day. Tonight they would sacrifice several goats to thank El Shaddai for the end of the drought, and they would be cooked for the entire village to eat. Today, the men helped the women prepare.

The rains had come earlier than expected this year, and the feast had not been ready, but the tradition must be upheld. They celebrated the life-giving rain, but asked El Shaddai not to wash away their crops. Before the feast, the whole village got together to prepare. Usually, the men either hunted in the forests or worked the fields while the women cooked and cleaned, saw to the animals, and took care of the children. But today, both men and women worked alongside one another doing domestic chores to get everything ready.

Jair enjoyed watching the activities that always went on the day of the feast. Men and women came together as they had done when they were children, no longer separated by tradition. Epheriel also saw this and took pleasure in it, as well as the joyful and exuberant spirit among the mortals. People rejoicing in the name of the Lord was never wrong.

The angel spent the day staying next to Jair and watching out for him, but the evil thought did not seem present today. Perhaps it was drowned out by the strong, positive emotions of everyone else.

‘Do you eat, Epheriel?’ Jair asked quietly. ‘Can you consume food?’

‘If I change my shape,’ the angel replied in a whisper. It walked at Jair’s side. It had rained that morning, but now the sun shone brightly and Epheriel was invisible. ‘But I do not require sustenance the way you do.’

‘Then you must taste the feast tonight,’ whispered Jair. ‘It will be heavenly.’ He smirked, his pun lost on neither himself nor the angel, and for the first time he heard Epheriel laugh, a clear sound that seemed to reverberate through Jair’s very soul and fill him with joy and ease.

‘Then I must certainly try it,’ it said.

That evening, the entire village gathered in the square. Instead of taking their supper in their own houses, they all gathered near the big fire, some hundred-odd people. While the food cooked, a large group of children gathered around Jair, begging him to tell them stories.

‘Tell us about when your father saw the angel!’ said one, and Jair smiled.

‘Haven’t you heard that one many times before?’ he asked, but the children did not relent. ‘Hush,’ said Jair. ‘Let me instead tell you the story of a man. A man named Enoch.’

Epheriel, having taken the shape of a mouse, sat in the shadows at Jair’s feet. Now it turned its attention to the man.

‘My father told me this story, and his father before him,’ continued Jair. ‘It is an old tale, older than this village, far older than any living man. Enoch was the son of Jared, a wealthy man. When Enoch was a boy, he would play hide and seek with his siblings, and he would always win. This was because Enoch had angels watching over him always. When he wished to go unseen, the angels would make it so. When Enoch grew up, he had many wives and many children. He was a wise man who taught the people many things. Things the angels had taught him. He taught them the cycles of the moon and the movement of the sun. He taught them of the stars and the sea. But then, one day, when Enoch was a very old man, having lived for more than three-hundred years, he disappeared for good and nobody ever saw him again.’

‘What happened to him?’ piped one of the children.

‘Nobody knows,’ said Jair. ‘But they say the angels took him with them and showed him the secrets of the universe, and then the Lord El Shaddai took him to Heaven and gave him powers beyond anybody’s wildest dreams.’

The children began to talk excitedly amongst themselves, and Epheriel took its chance to transform into a beetle and land on Jair’s shoulder. ‘How did you learn these things?’ it whispered. ‘Who told you?’

‘My father told me, like I said,’ Jair whispered back. But before Epheriel could pry any further, it felt something through the crowd. It was not the evil thought, but rather anger, desperation, fear. And it was directed toward Jair.

Epheriel looked around and saw Miryam and Joseph, whispering a ways off from the fire. The fear came from Miryam, and the anger from her brother. ‘Jair,’ whispered Epheriel, more urgently still. ‘Be careful. You may be forced to fight.’

‘Jair!’ came a loud voice. ‘Stand! Face me!’ Jair turned his head to where the voice was coming from and saw Joseph, a spear in each hand, with his sister tugging at his shawl. ‘Fight me, Jair!’

Jair stood slowly and looked at the man. No, he was hardly a man. A boy still. Small and fast, but not particularly strong. ‘In what way have I offended you, Joseph?’ he asked gently.

‘You’ve offended my sister!’ spat the other, rage clearly visible in his eyes. ‘You have offended her honour by not taking her for a bride when she was offered to you by our father. You have offended our entire family! And to defend her honour, I want to fight you to the death!’

Epheriel tried to read Jair, but something prevented it. Something would not allow it to see what the man thought or what his actions would be, but his expression was mild and kindly still. ‘Joseph,’ he said. ‘Is this truly necessary, friend? I’m not a violent man. I have no wish to fight.’

He saw Miryam whisper something in her twin brother’s ear, but Joseph shook her off. ‘Are you such a coward, Jair?’ he growled. ‘You, who fought off the Sumerians. Will you not fight me?’

‘Enough!’ His father, the Elder, stood up. ‘My son, this is a feast to honour El Shaddai. You cannot fight this night. Jair is an honourable man who has done nothing to deserve your challenge, and there are other young men to wed Miryam. Withdraw your challenge and return to our home!’

The square grew silent. Everyone was watching now. The only sound to be heard was the crackling of the fire and the sizzling of goat meat.

‘No!’ cried Joseph. ‘I will have this fight and I will have it now!’

‘Then you are no son of mine,’ said his father with finality and sat down again. Miryam threw herself to the ground and wept.

‘Jair!’ said Joseph again. ‘Accept my challenge!’ He threw one of the spears to Jair, who caught it expertly.

‘I will accept,’ said Jair, ‘on the condition that we go away from this place and do not interrupt the feast further.’ He picked up a lit torch and marched away. Joseph followed. Some men, including his brother Shimon and their middle brother Ruben, lit torches and followed to watch. Epheriel reverted to its true form and walked with Jair, hiding in the torchlight.

‘You will fight him?’ it asked in a quiet whisper.

‘If that’s what it takes to show him the error he is making, then yes,’ replied Jair. ‘I won’t kill him. He’s only a boy.’

They reached the edge of the village and the wheat fields beyond. Jair selected an area not far from the fields. He set his torch in the ground, and the other men carrying torches followed suit, creating a circle. Jair and Joseph stepped inside. Epheriel stayed outside the circle, hoping to remain unseen. The other men seemed too busy to notice a strange, faintly glowing shadow in the air.

Joseph and Jair raised their spears. Jair stood tall and proud, spear at his side but ready to strike should he have to. Joseph crouched, gripping his spear with both hands. They stood that way for a few moments, watching each other. Then Joseph lowered the tip of his spear and let out a savage cry as he lunged at Jair. Jair dodged the attack, sidestepping, and Joseph stumbled past him. He turned around and glared furiously at his opponent.

‘You mock me?’ he growled. ‘You, watched by angels, sworn to El Shaddai, lousy excuse! You dare?’ He lunged again. This time, Jair let him come, blocking his attack with his own spear. Then he stepped aside again and, as Joseph came hurtling past, grabbed hold of the spear and wrested it from his hands. Joseph stared at him in surprise and horror as Jair tossed the spear out of the circle and walked calmly toward him. Joseph fell to his knees and stared at the ground. He had lost and now he would pay with his life.

But Jair threw his spear to the ground in front of him. ‘Go home, Joseph,’ he said quietly.

‘You’re leaving me to live with this shame?’ said Joseph hoarsely, looking up at him. He had tears streaming down from his eyes. Just a boy still.

Jair did not answer his question. Instead, he looked kindly down at the boy and said, ‘Go to your father and reconcile. Tell your sister you did wrong. Your life is my gift to her.’

Jair picked up one of the torches. He stepped out of the circle and left Joseph there on his knees. As he set off toward the village, Ruben rushed into the circle to help his brother to his feet. Epheriel followed Jair away from that place.