Abraham Allegiant (Chronicles of the Nephilim Book 4) (15 page)

Nimrod called out to his guards to roll the flat back out of the fire with Abram on it.

But when another eight guards approached the mechanism to roll it out, the fire was so hot that another burst of heat scorched the
eight guards to death. They screamed in pain as their flesh bubbled and melted from their bodies.

Nimrod could care less. He was concentrating on Abram in the fire.

Nimrod called out to Abram, “Abram, come forth from the fire and stand before me!”

Abram walked out of the fire, and was greeted by the gasps and gossiping of tens of thousands of people who could not believe their eyes. Women fainted, others were speechless. But all those who saw it, knew that the world was changed because a man defied King Nimrod and lived.

Abram walked respectfully up to Nimrod and stood before him.

The king of Ur and his princes and royalty came out of the crowd reverently toward Abram.

Sarai was weeping tears of joy – and faith.

Terah was weeping tears of repentance.

No one could see that under his royal garments, Nimrod was sweating in fear. A cold shiver ran down his spine and he tried to hold back the imminent panic that was rising.

He maintained his kingly posture and said. “How is it you are not burned by the flames?”

Abram said, “Because El Shaddai, the God of heaven and earth in whom I trust and who has all power, he delivered me.”

The royalty bowed down before Abram.

Abram was horrified. “Get up. Do not bow to me. Bow to El Shaddai, the God who created the heavens and the earth and the bodies and souls of mankind.”

“Very impressive magic,” said Nimrod. “Who was that in there with you? I saw a second figure talking to you.”

“It was El Shaddai, the Creator.”

Another shiver of terror went through Nimrod.

“What did he say?” said Nimrod.

“I should leave here.”

Nimrod turned to his trumpeters and nodded before turning to the noisy crowd, still aghast about what they had seen.

The trumpeters announced their king’s speech. The crowd calmed down and Nimrod’s booming voice echoed across the masses, “
Abram has paid the price of justice! He went into the fire. He was purged of his crimes! The gods have birthed him anew from the flames! This court of justice is adjourned!”

The crowd went wild with cheers. It was good entertainment. They wanted more, but the guards were already pressing them to disperse.

It was all an act by Nimrod. He had been blindsided by this miracle. The deity El Shaddai had protected Abram. Nimrod knew it would jeopardize his authority before the people if he would lose in another confrontation with this deity. It would be foolish to engage an enemy about whom he knew nothing, unprotected by his guardian, Marduk. So, instead he would use rhetoric to spin a narrative of legal technicalities. Technically, Abram
did
pay for his crime by entering the fire. The fact that he survived is irrelevant to justice, because the sentence was served. Therefore, Nimrod was
not
giving in or admitting failure, but rather adjudicating wisely while maintaining justice. It was brilliant. He was rather proud of himself.

But now, he must get this Chosen One out of sight of the masses lest he cause an uprising. The Akitu Festival was a month away and once the cosmic portal was open, this El Shaddai would have a real battle on his hands, a battle with the pantheon of gods and their king, Marduk. That would be a fight he would love to watch.

He released Sarai, who ran to Abram and embraced him.

Mardon’s face went sour with disappointment. He had planned so much for the little whore. But the impaling would have to wait. He would track her down if he had to.

Terah looked at the fire, still stoked hot in the kiln. He thought of breaking out of this gathering and jumping into the flames as punishment for his own foolishness.

Nimrod said to Abram, “You will have the gift of three hundred of my servants to join you and your household. But I want you away from the major cities.”

Abram bowed. “I would like to go north to Haran, mighty king.” He was not even sure why he said it. It was the first thing that came to his mind. But it was good enough anyway. If El Shaddai was not going to tell him where, then he would just have to go wherever until he did.

“So, shall it be,” said Nimrod. Haran was a small enough town hundreds of miles out of the way up north. It would cause no stir in his kingdom.

That just saved me the work of hunting her down
, thought Mardon as he continued to stare at Sarai with drooling lips.

Then Abram added, “May my father Terah accompany us for protection?”

Terah looked at Abram with shock.
How could he suggest such a thing? After what I had done to him? Was he going to kill me?

Terah was visibly shaking.

Nimrod mused over the request agreeably. “Hmmm. Yes, I like that. Terah shall accompany you, to settle his family in their new quarters, and be back to Babylon in time for the Akitu Festival.”

“Yes, your majesty,” said Terah. But inside he was full of shame and could not look at his son.

Nimrod said, “Terah will bring you the servants in the morning. Go, say your goodbyes this evening.”

The next morning, Abram was packed and ready to leave. Sarai, Milcah, and Iscah were all weeping and hugging each other, knowing they would probably never see each other again. Nahor helped gather the mules and camels laden with their necessities, food, and tents.

Lot came bounding out with his own camel packed with belongings.

Nahor stopped him, “Where do you think you are going, young man?”

“With Abram” said Lot.

“Oh, no, you are not,” said Nahor.

“Not again,” complained Lot.

“Nahor,” interrupted Abram. “His father is dead. His sister is taken care of as your wife. Let him go with us. I will watch over him and raise him up as my own.”

Nahor’s eyes narrowed. He thought it would be great to get rid of his lazy troublemaking rear end.

“Okay,” he said. “He is your responsibility now.”

Lot yelped with joy.

Milcah screamed with tears, ran and grabbed her brother and would not let him go.

But Lot eventually calmed her. Nahor pulled her away and let Lot get on his camel.

Abram was setting up his camel when he looked up and saw Terah arriving alone on a horse.

He stopped, dismounted his steed and walked, trembling to Abram, who stood with pity watching his father.

Terah fell at Abram’s feet weeping. Tears flowed like a flood.

“My son. My son. I am unworthy to be your father.”

Abram reached down and touched his father’s garment. He pulled him to stand up and looked into his eyes with compassion.

He said to him, “Father, you are forgiven.”

Terah replied, “How could you forgive me after what I have done?”

Terah did not understand this grace. It went against everything he ever knew. His religion was a religion without such notions. Though the gods did reign above, everything came down to a person’s own ability to perform the right ritual or engage in the correct magic, or accurately discern the omens. There was a sacrificial means of atonement for sins, but such things were mere formalities, temporary appeasement through humiliation. True forgiveness was not a reality. The only response for such things as betrayal or treason was death. And that was why Terah harbored in his heart the fear that one day he would turn his back and Abram would get his revenge.

Abram said to Terah, “I have been forgiven of my debt. How could I not forgive you yours? Come, take us to Haran.”

They met the three hundred servants and livestock offered by Nimrod outside the walls of the city, and paid for passage on some trade barges to begin their journey of six hundred miles north up the Euphrates river.

• • • • •

The trip upriver was relatively uneventful. The barge they travelled on was a commercial one that carried barley, figs, and jars of wine, beer, and vegetable oil. It was about a hundred and fifty feet long with the trade products stored below in the tar-covered pontoons. Animals and humans shared the upper deck, and slaves rowed in the middle. The barge could travel about twenty miles a day. A bit slower than the caravan on land, but it saved them energy.

But there was an occurrence that caused Abram to wonder with great curiosity. At one of the minor stops a hundred miles outside of Babylon, three strangers boarded the barge. They kept to themselves, but they stood out because one of them was very large, about seven feet tall, and muscular, like Marduk. The hooded cloak could not hide his physique. Abram thought they looked like bounty hunters or maybe spies.

And then one of them looked at him and a chill went down his spine. It was as if the stranger was looking
for
Abram and found him in his sights.

And then it struck him.

Assassins. Sent by Nimrod to finish off what his furnace of fire could not. It made perfect sense. Why did he not think of it sooner?

His mind started racing. Of course. Send Terah along with him and kill two birds with one sling. Nimrod could not abide the double minded man that Terah was, a man torn between loyalties of family and king, submission and survival.

Where was Terah? He had to tell him. But he could not see him. He saw his new head servant, Eliezer, a kind but gangly man, was near him, but he would be of no use in a fight.

Where were Terah’s guards?

And then the stranger started walking toward Abram.

He was all alone and unguarded. It was some kind of a set up.

Abram stiffened and put his hand on the hilt of his sword in anticipation.

Suddenly, Eliezer stood in front of Abram, whispering to him, “Master, I can be a diversion for you.”

Abram could not believe it. This servant was already loyal to him? Who had such moral character these days?

Abram got his answer when Eliezer whispered, “Master, remember me when El Shaddai gives you the kingdom.”

Eliezer was a convert to his faith. Abram’s heart soared.

He moved Eliezer aside and said, “Alert the others.”

Eliezer dutifully obeyed and moved toward the men of the company to warn them.

There was one advantage Abram had. One thing these assassins did not know. He did not need guards to defend him. He was very capable in arms. He had been trained by Noah in the way of the Karabu, the ancient fighting technique of archangels. He shifted into a stance of preparedness. He was ready to call out.

But it was too late. The stranger was upon him. He was tall with a dark complexion inside his hood.

The stranger noticed Abram’s stance and said, “Karabu. Well done. Trained by a master.” He smiled.

Abram was confused.
How did he know?
The advantage was lost. Was this one a Karabu fighter himself?

“Who might you be, stranger?” said Abram.

The stranger looked around him. People were too close.

He raised his hand slightly and gestured for Abram to follow him away from the crowd to the edge of the boat.

Abram followed cautiously, giving a glance at the stranger’s companions, who were watching them.

Abram thought,
Separate and divide. I am walking into a deeper trap.

“I am not separating you to divide you from your forces, Abram,” said the stranger. “I just do not want anyone to hear us.”

Abram blurted out, “How do you know my name?” His hand tightened on his sword blade, and withdrew it half way.

“Put that away,” said the stranger. “You will draw attention. I am not here to harm you.”

“Then tell me who you are,” snapped Abram.

“I am Mikael, the archangel.”

Abram’s face went flush.

He took his hood off so Abram could see his face clearer. He was handsome. His hair was dark and full and wavy. His eyes sparkled with penetrating blue hues.

“I take it, Noah told you about me. What I looked like, about our exploits together in the War of Gods and Men?”

Abram nodded, mesmerized. This was the man Noah had described to him.

Mikael continued, “You and I will be seeing more of each other in the future. But for now, I and my companions have a task to accomplish.”

“Who are they?” asked Abram.

“See the big one,” Mikael replied. “That is the Destroyer. An angel of mass destruction. He kills entire populations. He isnot pretty.”

Abram gulped. The smaller one looked familiar in the way he held his shoulders.

“And the other is the Angel of Yahweh.”

“Who is Yahweh?” asked Abram.

Mikael caught himself. The Creator had only revealed himself to Abram as El Shaddai, God Almighty, not as Yahweh, the covenant name he would later reveal to the children of Abram.

“You know him as El Shaddai,” said Mikael.

Abram gulped. He felt a chill go down his spine. His knees went weak with the desire to kneel in worship. He said, “He is the God El Shaddai in earthly form?”

Mikael nodded with a smile.

Now Abram knew why his form was familiar. He was the one who met Abram in the fire. But now Abram had his wits about him.

“Why on earth would he do such a thing?” said Abram. It was beyond his comprehension that the Creator of the heavens and the earth, the Maker of all things visible and invisible, would condescend to such a humiliating form as that of a man. It reminded
him too much of those pretenders to the throne, those Watcher gods of the earth.

Mikael could see the distaste in Abram’s face. He said, “There is much that El Shaddai does that is beyond the understanding of even the divine council who surround him. But it does not surprise me that he accommodates to our finiteness. The gods of men are broken images of the truth reshaped into a monstrous lie.”

“Then why does he not make himself more visible?”

“Trust me, if you were to see him in all his glory, you would not survive it. You would be consumed.”

“Can I talk to him?” asked Abram.

“Not yet,” said Mikael.

Abram said, “But he talked to me in the fire.”

“It is not time,” said Mikael more firmly.

“Where are you going?” said Abram.

Mikael looked upriver, a sad distant gaze in his eyes, and said, “Babylon.”