CATSCLYSM Second Lost Legend of the Ruby Heart

By Marian Webb Betts

Cataclysm  The Second Legend

   Josias, grandson of Basilikos (the protagonist in the first Legend), must leave home after a cataclysmic event that has put his life - and the lives of others, in grave danger, should he stay. He takes with him his faithful servant, Haziel, his thr

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lost Legends Publishing, llc
• Release date: Nov 12, 2021
• ISBN: 9781733961714

Marian Webb Betts

Tall waving grass surrounded me, isolating me on the well-trodden path. In the distance I could hear the other kids still playing on the soccer field. I'd left them and headed home, only the chuff of a leopard froze my blood and my body. If I yelled would the others hear me? No.How far was the house? Could I run fast enough? No."Woof! Woof! Woof!" A black shape sailed past me into the long grass followed by the sound of a scuffle and a big cats scream.I leapt into action making a wild dash for the house. Pal, our Alsatian dog, caught up with me as I opened the screen door and collapsed inside."Good boy, Pal! Did you give it what for?" He flopped beside me, tongue lolling, a happy grin on his doggy face. Episodes like this were common where I grew up in the back of beyond - South Sudan, Africa. The critters were different, a loose bull, a lion, a snake, a crocodile, even a hippo once! My parents were British pioneer missionaries. Dad ran a school for the young men of the area including several different warring tribes. Mum ran a medical clinic and training center. We kids were pretty much on our own, the older ones supposed to be watching the younger.It was a primitive life with no running water, electricity, radios, or that many books, either. In the evenings Dad would entertain us with stories of his adventures in the early days or he'd make up stories about the animals we saw daily, or children like ourselves and adventures we might get into. We learned from him to do the same as our toys were few, but we learned from the native children how to make figures from mud, using found items like thorns for spears, tusks, and horns. And we taught them how to build roads in the dirt. Between us we made whole villages, cattle, sheep, and warriors who could fight each other.Mum home-schooled us for as long as she could, but eventually we all went to boarding school in Egypt, Ethiopia, and Congo. As another civil war broke out in Sudan, Dad decided we would immigrate to the United States. We arrived on July 3, 1963, just a couple months before President Kennedy was assassinated.Although writing was not my first love, I learned early how to tell a good story with a pen, a paintbrush or a camera. So, when Father God gave me, in a vision the full version of one of Dad's short children's stories, I started writing. The musical came first - children's version of the story. The Adult novel came next. As I finished it, I realized I had a potential series of books leading through history to present day, and so the Legend begins!

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Cataclysm

Second Legend

Marian Webb Betts

Lost Legends of the

Ruby Heart

Other Legends of the Ruby Heart

Ruby Heart: The Legend Begins

Time Has Come!

Lost Legends Publishing, llc

Anderson, Indiana, USA

765.606.5342

http://lostlegendspublishing.us/

© 2019 by Marian Webb Betts

All rights reserved solely by the author. The author guarantees all contents are original and do not infringe upon the legal rights of any other person or work.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without the permission of the author. The views expressed in this book are not necessarily those of the publisher.

Printed in the United States of America.

ISBN: (print) 978-1-7339617-0-7

ISBN: (digital) 978-1-7339617-1-4

Cataclysm

Second Legend

Marian Webb Betts

Lost Legends of the

Ruby Heart

Author’s Note

This story is pure fiction, set in real time and some real places. The characters are all fictitious, except for Pliny the Elder and Pliny the Younger, and those related to them. Pliny the Elder wrote volumes on multiple subjects, some of which are still used for reference to this day. He did die in the eruption of Mount Vesuvius; however, the cause of his death is questionable. He was obese and suffered from a bad heart and asthma.

Mount Vesuvius and Pamukkale are real, as are most of the towns mentioned east of New Madjid, although their names have since changed.

Thank You!

I wish to say a special Thank You to Caroli Wolfe, who, once again has been my mentor, editor and support in many ways.

Also, a hearty Thank You to Gillean Dean for her help in editing. Her perspective was also a great help in keeping on track for younger generations.

Alphabetical List of Names

Arshad (Are-shad) – The grandson of Nicias. Josias’ cousin and a companion on his journeys. His name in ancient Persian means Glorious Warrior.

Balthazar (the Younger) – Firstborn son of Joshua. He is named after his grandfather the Wise man Balthazar who traveled to see Jesus.

Basilikos or Basil – The only true-born son of Magus Balthazar, of the Clan of Madjid.

Eldad (El-dad) – A cousin of Johnathan.

Farbod (Far-bod) – Grandson of Gauis. A cousin and companion of Josias the Younger on his journeys. In ancient Persian, his name means Protector of Glory.

Gershom - of the family of Tzadok, the Just, a ruling elder in Gennesaret on the Sea of Galilee. Slave of King Aristobulus.

Haziel [Ha’-zi-el] – Slave of Joshua and care provider for Josias, who sets him free when Haziel is given to him.

Jerusha (Ja-ru-sha) – Mother of Jonathan and Tamar.

Jonathan of Gamala – A lost relation met in Daphne.

Joshua – Son of Basilikos. Father of Balthazar and Josias.

Josias (Jo-si-as) – Our protagonist. Second son of Joshua. He is named after Basilikos’ servant and trusted friend.

Marzban (Marz-ban) - Son of Salome, sister of Joshua. First cousin to Josias and a companion on his journeys. His name in ancient Persian means Guardian.

Mongke [Mong-kee] – A man shrouded in mystery who joins Josias and his men as a guide on their travels.

Tamar (Tay-mar) – Jonathan’s sister.

Wajih (Wah-ji) – A slave boy of about ten taken from the grasslands below the Great Desert south of Alexandria assigned to Josias and his men in Misenum.

The Prologue

My name is Josias, son of Joshua, of the family of Balthazar, the clan of Madjid. You might have heard of my Great Grandfather, Balthazar. He was one of the Wise Men who traveled to Jerusalem to witness the birth of the One we call Jesus. Grandfather Basilikos (Basil to friends and family) was ordered to stay home and take care of the city and his mother. But Basil was determined to go, so he dressed as a servant and joined the caravan as a stable hand. The results of that disobedience had many repercussions, both good and bad. Grandfather’s story has been recorded in the book, RUBY HEART: The Legend Begins.

This is the beginning of my story. I lived in New Madjid, which spreads across the plain high above the convergence of three rivers that form the Oxus River. At one time only two rivers joined here, with a high ridge dividing them. Great-great-Grandfather Madjid discovered the remains of an old village with an artesian spring on that high ridge. He rebuilt on the site a city of such beauty that it was renowned throughout the known world.

But there was an underground river that fed that artesian well and one day it broke its bounds, destroying the ridge and the city. Now a magnificent waterfall cascades into the confluence below.

Not all survived that disastrous event. Those who followed Grandfather’s first wife and her cohort refused to believe Grandfather’s vision of destruction. Most of them perished. But Grandfather’s followers ran to higher ground and were saved.

Great Grandfather Balthazar died not long after that, and my Great-grandmother and Grandmother retired to a women’s monastery.

The once beautiful countryside fell to ruin, fit only for the wild creatures that could survive there.

In the meantime, Grandfather Basilikos and his cousins created a thriving silk trade, married well and returned with families of their own. They built a new city on what used to be a valley between the high cliff on which the old city sat and the foothills of the Hindu Kush. Now it is a rolling, fertile plain surrounding the forty-year-old city that has thrived under Grandfather’s rule.

My father, Joshua and my brother Balthazar the Younger were impatient with our peaceful times. They were action driven and had little time for wisdom and knowledge. I much preferred the study of sciences with Grandfather. We mixed with Father and Balthazar about as well as pure water and rancid oil.

YB

Book One

First Cataclysm -

Innocence Lost

Chapter One

I was in Grandfather’s study sitting listlessly near the brazier for warmth. Outside the wind drove rain, sleet, and snow against the leather fastenings that covered the windows, the damp and cold seeping through to chill me to the bone.

Oh, how I long for warm summer days. To be warm! If only the fire were bigger and hotter.

Suddenly, the flames leaped in the brazier, dancing high into the air. The warmth was comforting. I stretched my hands to it.

Did you do that? Grandfather Basil asked. I looked over at him in puzzlement.

Do what?

Did you make the fire burn hotter?

It does feel good! I grinned. But no, I did not add wood to the fire.

You do not always have to add wood to make the fire brighter or warmer, Grandfather spoke softly as he stared into the flames.

Wait, Grandfather, I said, you think I… Do you think I could… I mean, you used to be able to call the fire? There are lots of stories about… I stopped at the expression on his face, remembering we were not to remind him of those terrible days so long ago. I’m sorry, Grandfather. I almost forgot.

After a moment, Grandfather set aside the scroll he was reading and came to join me near the brazier. He sat silently for a moment or two, then began to talk.

You have heard me speak of my Grandmother Issaca who was an amazing woman - intelligent, brave and strong. She had knowledge and skills beyond any I’ve met since. It was she who drew me out, who taught me to use the inherent knowledge I had stored inside. One of the first things she taught me was how to call the fire. And, yes, you can call the fire – you just did. He was silent for a long time, staring into the flames, his expression changing with the thoughts passing through his mind.

You will also learn to see visions in the flames Josias. Not all will be of the future or of things in the least related to you. But you will learn. He took a deep breath and blew it out loudly.

Are you ready? He asked.

I nodded with enthusiasm. What do I do first?

Bring that unused brazier over and set it on the bare floor, well away from anything that might catch on fire. Now, lay a fire and sit down. Settle yourself and allow your mind to focus on the brazier. Let all other thoughts go. Let all sounds go. Become aware only of the dry wood in the brazier. Imagine the fire, the flickering flames, the warmth… His voice began to fade as if he were a long way away, and gradually, as I focused on the brazier, everything else dissolved until only the wood was visible.

When he spoke, it was little more than a whisper.

Call the fire.

I tried and tried.

And tried again.

I was almost ready to give up when a tiny spiral of smoke eddied up from the woodpile. In my excitement, I broke my concentration, and it was gone. Grandfather sat motionlessly. I settled back into my chair and refocused on the wood. This time the smoke came sooner, followed by flames. The blood pounded in my ears. Blood-red flames leaped to the ceiling, threatening to overcome the room. I panicked!

Close your eyes!

I squeezed them shut.

When I dared look again, the flames normal yellow- gold, emitting a gentle warm glow.

I did the same thing the first time I knowingly called fire. You will learn to control your power with practice.

That was frightening, I gulped. I don’t think I want to do it again. Grandfather smiled.

Well then, let’s do something else. Come with me, he said as he rose and headed for the door. The weather is good for a trip up into the mountains.

YB

Grandfather, why are we going into the mountains today and so late in the day at that? I asked once we had negotiated the streets and wound our way through the fields.

It is time for you to broaden your learning and understanding. Learning how to navigate by the stars is paramount for a desert dweller – or for any traveler.

Why are we taking horses and not camels, Grandfather?

Horses are better tempered than camels, and I much prefer them to camels.

But they have to be fed and watered, I said, wishing to show him that I was knowledgeable in such matters. Camels can go days without water and eat whatever they find along the way. And their shaggy coats keep them warm in this cold weather.

Very true young scholar, Grandfather sounded amused. But we are not going on a long journey. We will return in the morning.

We rode in silence then. I could not think of anything else to ask Grandfather or to talk about, so I kept quiet.

We headed up into the snowcapped mountains to the east of the city. We already were warmly wrapped, but in our bedrolls were more robes and blankets for the cold we would face at the top.

Finally we reached a certain mountain top and Grandfather motioned to dismount.

This is a perfect place to study the stars, he said, glancing around. From here we can see almost the whole sky, yet in the lee of those boulders we will be out of the wind and comfortable with a small fire.

We set up camp quickly, gathering enough wood to keep a low fire going through the night. Grandfather was right about the boulders blocking the chill wind, and the small fire was enough to keep us warm and cook a rabbit he had caught. The horses were tethered close under the boulders with blankets snugged down over their rumps.

There was no need to talk. The beauty of the mountain top and the views in every direction spoke volumes. The air was sparkling clean and fresh, filled with only the song of the wind rushing around the boulders and rustling through the grasses on which the horses munched happily. An eagle’s piercing cry swelled the melody which responded in a climactic crescendo. Then all was silent. Even the wind held its breath for a moment.

The setting sun cast its glow over the scenes before me, and I was lost to its beauty until Grandfather touched my shoulder and pointed to the sky. At first, all I saw was the darkening heavens, then, one by one, stars began to appear even before the sun had set.

Without speaking, Grandfather laid out our blankets close to the fire and indicated we should lie with our heads nearer the fire, facing away from its glow. I settled into the warmth and snuggled down to watch the stars come out and to listen to Grandfather as he pointed to each star or group of stars. He knew their names and shared the stories or legends from which their names came. Late into the night when I was struggling to stay awake, and Grandfather had been quiet for a while - so that I thought he was asleep. He spoke.

Did you know, Josias, that the stars make music?

The stars make music. I responded drowsily, then realized what he just said and sat up. How can that be? Why can’t we hear them?

My father, Balthazar, told me that when the Mighty One first created our world, the stars sang, and also, the wind was visible.

What happened that silenced the stars and made the wind hide?

The stars are not silent. It’s just that we cannot hear them anymore. But there will come a time when all creation will sing together at the triumphant return of our Savior.

What happened?! I demanded in frustration at his rambling.

"Well, the stories my father told me were not of our faith. However, they do seem to make sense. It is said that in the beginning the Mighty One created everything in Goodness and Light. But there was one called the Evil One, the child of Doubt who created a counter material world of darkness and evil. The good and the evil fought, and, for a time, evil won and has held sway over it. However, The Mighty One prophesied that one day good would break through the evil and bring Light back to the world.

In our Faith, we believe this has happened by the birth of Jesus of Nazareth. In His death and resurrection, He took back the keys of evil and death, giving us renewed hope that one day He will return and destroy evil forever, allowing Goodness and Light to shine eternally. Then once again we will be able to hear the stars. And, he added, we will see the wind.

A soft breeze, no more than a breath, brushed my face. I looked back up at the stars and thought they shimmered. Rubbing my eyes, I looked again. They shone steadily in the deep blue of the heavens. My eyes grew heavy, and my eyelids refused to stay open. I heard the whisper of a beautiful melody.

They still sing, Grandfather, I mumbled as I slipped into slumber.

YB

Once back in the palace, Grandfather had me accompanying him as he visited sick or injured boys. As I progressed, he allowed me to work with him as he tended the men. Grandfather wasted little time talking while stitching cuts, other than what weapon was used and in what circumstance. To ease the tension when setting a bone, he chatted with the patient, explaining what he was doing and warning of pain. But when a patient was ill, he spent a long time with them, asking questions and listening carefully to their responses. I asked him about this.

A gash needs little explanation, he responded. It needs to be cleaned and closed and dressed so it will stay clean and heal better. To set a broken bone, if it has not thrust through the tissues, I must determine just where it broke. Sometimes it is important to know how the accident happened to understand how badly it might be broken. If it is badly broken, it may have damaged other parts of the arm or leg. These need to be taken into consideration.

When you are examining a sick person, you follow a similar line of questioning. But you often take longer and let them ramble some. Why is that?

You have to listen to the sick – often to what is not being said. With men, especially, one must hear what they are not saying. Men believe they must endure in silence. They may not tell me how they feel or where it hurts and how much it hurts. So, chatting with them allows me to watch them. I can often discern it myself. Then I can lead the conversation in that direction. Always listen to what your patient says - and does not say.

I took his words to heart and began listening more carefully. And Grandfather – as usual – was correct. Because he encouraged me earlier to study Issaca’s manuscripts, I quickly learned what remedies worked with what illness, what salves were best for what injury, and how to administer any - and all of it.

We did not attend the women, as it is improper for a man to see a naked woman unless it is his wife. Therefore, a midwife attended the women in their private needs. If Grandfather was required to assist in a woman’s care, he had to stand behind a screen and ask the midwife questions and instruct her from there. Surgery on a woman was an ordeal with multiple screens placed discretely. But no matter where or how they were placed, they were always in the way. Grandfather was almost always in a foul mood afterward, so I was relieved I did not have to attend him for those operations.

YB

By the time I reached my fifteenth birthday, the men acknowledged me, respecting my learning, admiring my understanding, but were a little afraid of the healing powers I seemed to display. They claimed I was a true descendant of Issaca, my Great-Great Grandmother, the wife of Madjid, who was rumored to have magical powers, even a sorceress.

But I knew there was no magic in it, just knowledge, understanding and practice.

However, even as the boys and men showed me respect and honored my work, two people were not impressed by my skills: my older brother, Balthazar – that was no surprise – and my own father. I say it was no surprise that Balthazar had no respect for me because I was not like him. He was the all-around best at everything at which a man should be.

Balthazar was four years older than me, which meant he already had his adult proportions: broad shoulders, thick chest, narrow hips, sturdy legs, all covered in perfectly sculpted muscles which he loved to display. He also excelled at all the sporting events, always brought home the best kill from the hunts, and always took the first choice of the women.

I, on the other hand, was gangly, awkward and clumsy in anything athletic and had no interest in hunting - or women - for that matter. I much preferred spending my time in Grandfather’s rooms where I could study the sciences, listen to Grandfather tell of his adventures in faraway countries, their people and cultures, religions and cults, and the descriptions of their lands, then locate them on the maps Grandfather had collected.

Father and Zar, as he liked to be called, had no interest in listening to ‘the babbling of a doddering old fool’ as they considered Grandfather. If it could not be seen, touched, tasted, used – or killed – it was of no significance to them. Both believed that a man’s power was in the strength of his body, his prowess with any weapon, and the number of women he could bed in one night. I failed on all points.

In our childhood, Zar’s contempt for me played out in pranks, jokes, tricks, and sabotage every chance he got. But as we grew older, he became meaner and more cunning – even sadistic in his pranks.

To avoid him as much as possible, I would retreat to Grandfather’s rooms after the evening meal and stay as long as he allowed me. I would spend the time either in his office or library, studying, or in his workshop where he was experimenting with various inventions and concoctions.

But one evening I was not so fortunate: Father had been entertaining some dignitaries from a nearby city, and he had demanded Zar and I stay beside him well into the evening. Grandfather had excused himself after an entertaining conversation with a man who declared himself a scholar and physician of renown even to the borders of China. I had hoped to leave with my grandfather, but Father signaled me to stay, and it was another hour before I could get away. I slipped through the halls, heading for my rooms. As I turned a corner, I heard laughter and raised voices. I started to step back into the shadows, but Zar saw me and grabbed me by the arm with a grip that warned of no escape.

Josias! He bellowed. We deserve a treat after being subjected to all that garbled old man’s talk that we’ve had to endure for who knows how long. Ye gods! He laughed at what he thought was a joke. We are going to find us some women! And not the usual whores, either! We are going down into the town to find us some virgins! And you are coming with us! He shook my arm.

Balthazar, I’d rather not.

What, you don’t fancy a virgin?

Well, no. No, it’s not that. I’m just not -

Oh, I know! You want a little boy, don’t you! He cackled and gave me a brutal shake, gripping my arm harder.

No! I cried.

Oh yes, you do! You never want to go whoring with us! What else could it be?

I just prefer a little more privacy.

I know! I know! It’s not boys you want! It’s a beast!

He released my arm and grabbed the back of my tunic before I could step away. What sort of beast do you want, little brother? Eh?

He ripped my tunic off and snatched my loincloth away. Let’s see what size your horn will take! Oh, ye gods! Have you ever seen a horn that tiny? Men! Look at this! He grabbed it and yanked hard. Of course, I cried out, and he laughed in glee.

Zar, that’s just too much! Cried an onlooker. He paid no attention, he was having too much fun. I tried to pull his hands off, but he wouldn’t let go. And it hurt!

Oh, this won’t do! He