Keepers of the Covenant
Read Keepers of the Covenant Online
Authors: Lynn Austin
Tags: #Christian Fiction, #Bible Old Testament—Fiction, #FIC026000, #FIC042030, #FIC014000, #Bible fiction, #Ezra (Biblical figure)—Fiction
© 2014 by Lynn Austin
Published by Bethany House Publishers
11400 Hampshire Avenue South
Bloomington, Minnesota 55438
Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan
Ebook edition created 2014
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
ISBN 978-1-4412-6479-4
Scripture taken from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION ®. Copyright © 1973,1978, 1984 Biblica. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved.
Cover design by Jennifer Parker
Photography by Mike Habermann Photography, LLC
To my husband, Ken,
and to my children:
Joshua, Benjamin, Vanessa, Maya, and Snir
T
he Babylonian army conquered the Jewish nation in 586 BC, destroying God’s temple in Jerusalem and marching most of the survivors into exile. For nearly fifty years, the Jews languished in captivity, far from home. Then the Persians defeated the Babylonians, and in the first year of his reign, the new monarch, King Cyrus, issued a decree that allowed the captive Jews to return:
“Anyone of his people among you—may his God be with him, and let him go up to Jerusalem in Judah and build the temple of the Lord, the God of Israel, the God who is in Jerusalem.”
Ezra 1:3
A group of about forty thousand exiles decided to make the long journey back to their homeland, led by Zerubbabel, an ancestor of King David. Most people, however, chose to remain behind in their captive lands.
After a long, twenty-year struggle, the returnees finally rebuilt God’s temple, encouraged by the prophets Haggai and Zechariah who promised a future restoration for God’s people. Meanwhile, the Jews who remained in captivity discovered that the window of opportunity to emigrate had slammed shut once again. For the next generation, still living among their pagan enemies sixty years after King Cyrus’s decree, all hope for restoration has vanished.
T
HE
C
ITADEL
OF
S
USA
, P
ERSIA
S
PRING
473 BC
H
aman paced the citadel’s rooftop, waiting for the court astrologers to finish their work. He despised his impotence. His destiny should be under his own control, not determined by mere pricks of light, sparkling in the midnight sky. This muttering huddle of stargazers in their night-black robes shouldn’t decide his future—he should. But the request he wanted to bring before King Xerxes, supreme ruler of the Persian Empire, was much too important to leave to chance or fate.
Haman paused near the parapet to gaze down at the sentries standing watch at the king’s gate. His obsession first began at that gate when an impudent Jew refused to bow down to him. The entire world bowed before Haman now that he’d earned a seat of honor above all of the king’s nobles, now that he’d become the second most important man in the empire. He’d spent his entire lifetime in the king’s service, yet after everything Haman had achieved, Mordecai the Jew refused to bow.
“Lord Haman . . . ?” He turned at the sound of the chief astrologer’s voice. “We have an answer for you, my lord.”
Haman took his time crossing to the waiting astrologers, unwilling to let them see his urgency or the power they held over him. “What do the stars say tonight?” he asked, folding his arms across his chest.
“Tomorrow will be an extremely favorable day for you, my lord. We see no opposition from the heavens to whatever you plan. In fact, the heavenly bodies all line up in your favor.”
Haman struggled to conceal his relief, his triumph. He had waited weeks for this news. At last, he would be able to put his plan into place. “Good. I have one more task for you tonight. Cast the lots for me and choose a favorable month in the future and then a day of that month.”
“A date for what, my lord?”
“That’s not your concern. Just do it. Now.”
Haman followed the astrologers down the stairs to their shadowy workroom. He watched as an apprentice readied the leather bag with twelve marked clay tiles, one for each month, then a second bag with thirty tiles to represent the days. Of course, the proper incantations had to be mumbled before they cast the lot, and Haman grew impatient as he listened to the chief sorcerer’s gibberish. The tiles clicked like bones as the magi shook the bag. He plunged his hand inside and drew one out. “Twelve, my lord,” he said, holding it up for Haman to see. “The month of Adar.”
Haman nodded, his jaw clenched. Adar was eleven months away! He wanted to implement his plan now, not delay it for so long. But as he waited for the sorcerer to recite the second incantation and prepare to draw the lot to determine the day of the month, Haman decided that maybe the delay would be a good thing after all. It would provide plenty of time for his decree to reach every corner of the kingdom, all 127 provinces. Plenty of time for Haman to prepare for the execution of his enemies.
Day after day, each time that stubborn Jew had refused to bow, Haman’s fury had multiplied until he’d decided not only to execute one man, but every Jew in the empire. Haman knew who Mordecai’s people were—the enemies of his own race of Amalekites. The hatred they harbored for one another traced back to a mother’s womb, where twin brothers had grappled for supremacy. The younger twin, Jacob, had stolen everything from Haman’s ancestor, Esau, who was the older twin and rightful
heir. It was time for Haman’s people to rid the world of Jacob’s descendants, the Jews, and take back what belonged to them.
The sorcerer held up a second tile. “The thirteenth day, my lord.”
Haman couldn’t suppress his smile. His lucky number. Born on a thirteenth day, he had come to power on a thirteenth day. Yes, the thirteenth day of Adar would do very nicely. “Thank you,” he said with a nod and strode from the workroom.
Haman didn’t bother going home to his bedchamber and his wife, Zeresh. He would never be able to sleep. Instead, he went to the king’s council chamber and sat down to compose his edict. Even with the stars lining up in his favor, Haman needed to plan cautiously, choose his words wisely. Every Jew must die—young and old, men and women, children and infants. But Haman couldn’t come right out and propose such a bold plan. He needed to use veiled suggestions and innuendoes to guide the king into reaching that conclusion, leading him there the way a hunter uses carefully placed bait to lead his prey into a snare.
When the chamberlains arrived after dawn, Haman ordered them to prepare the throne room, opening windows to let in the fresh spring air, lighting braziers to take the chill from the stone floor, arranging torches for light, plumping pillows and cushions. Everything must be perfect. Haman stood before a polished bronze mirror as he waited, composing his facial expression to show deep concern without a trace of the anticipation and elation he felt.
In due time King Xerxes arrived, ushered in by servants and pages to take his seat on his ivory throne. “Your Majesty—may you live forever!” Haman said, bowing low before him. When he rose again, Haman sat down in his seat at the king’s right hand. “I trust you rested well last night, Your Majesty?”
Xerxes gave an impatient wave as if to say that his sleep habits weren’t important. “What business must we accomplish this morning, Haman? How many petitioners?”
“A room full of them, Your Majesty. But before we begin, may I speak to you in private about a matter of extreme concern to me? It has to do with the stability and peace of your entire kingdom.”
“This sounds very serious. Of course you may speak.”
Haman waited as the pages and chamberlains scurried away, aware of the heavy thudding of his heart. “It has come to my attention, Your Majesty, that there is a certain race of people dispersed and scattered among the provinces of your kingdom whose customs are very different from all your other subjects. They worry me, Your Majesty, because they don’t obey the king’s laws. It’s not in the best interests of your kingdom to tolerate them.”
“Have they openly rebelled?”
“Not yet, but the potential is very great because they have never assimilated into the kingdom the way the other subject nations in your empire have. They don’t see themselves as part of your kingdom at all, but stubbornly insist on maintaining their ethnic identity and customs. Most worrisome of all, they refuse to worship the gods of our great empire.”
The king grunted. “They refuse, you say?”
“Yes. Even when threatened with punishment and death. Should we risk angering Persia’s gods? Gamble on incurring their wrath?”
“Certainly not.”
“There is nothing to be gained by keeping these people as subjects. There is no benefit they provide that outweighs the harm they cause.” Haman paused, watching the king’s reaction, trying to assess his every gesture and expression.
“What’s your recommendation?” Xerxes said after a moment.
Haman wiped his palms on his thighs. “If it pleases the king, let a decree be issued to destroy this potential threat, so these people can never harm you and your empire. In fact, I feel so strongly about the danger they pose that I’m willing to put ten
thousand talents of my own silver into the royal treasury to pay the men who will carry out this decree.”
“That’s a great deal of silver, Haman. Are these people truly that dangerous?”
“I believe so, my lord. Especially since they are dispersed throughout your kingdom like a deadly plague that could multiply and bring destruction.”
The king stared at the floor, playing with the signet ring he wore on his finger. Haman held his breath, planning what he would say if Xerxes asked for proof of these accusations, or for the name of this menacing group of people. But the stars were in his favor, Haman reminded himself. He would prevail.
At last the king spoke. “I’ve decided to trust your judgment, Haman. If you say they are a threat to me, then I want them taken care of.” He pulled off his signet ring and handed it to him. “Keep your silver . . . and do whatever you think best with these people to eliminate the threat.”
Haman closed his eyes in relief and victory, clenching the king’s signet ring in his fist. Once his decree went out, it could never be rescinded. Every Jew in the empire would die. “Yes, Your Majesty. I’ll attend to your wishes right away.”