Rising Darkness (29 page)

“Look at them, Nathan,” said Rugio proudly as the Assyrian army began an organized and efficient move out of Lachish. “They are proud, ruthless, and motivated. The greatest human empire in the world. And under my influence they shall destroy what is left of the Lord’s people!”

Rugio stood with Nathan, his chief aide, atop a hill that overlooked Lachish. The banners of the different divisions gleamed in the sunshine as beautiful uniforms of purple and gold marched by. Archers in magnificent chariots followed by infantry headed down the highway. Behind them were the elephants, followed by the huge battering rams. On either side, the proud Assyrian cavalry with their pikes and banners escorted the army eastward to Jerusalem. Above them, in invisible escort, were thousands of warriors under Rugio’s command who also seemed to be in proud formation.

“Hezekiah knows that these same troops have already reduced most of his cities in Judah,” Rugio continued. “I’m sure he will not resist. So whether he fights or chooses to accede to Sennacherib’s demands is no matter—either way Judah will cease as a nation.”

“Lucifer was certainly correct about Sennacherib,” said Nathan, a warrior who had recently been promoted to Rugio’s side. “Your suggestions to him were quite effective.”

“What is already in the mind of humans can easily be exploited,” said Rugio. “This man was bent on conquest. I only needed to appeal to his pride.”

He looked in the direction of the great tent of Sennacherib that dwarfed every other tent in the camp. “Stupid, human pride!”

“Still, it took some cleverness on your part,” said Nathan.

“True,” agreed Rugio. Not being noted for his cleverness like Kara or Pellecus, he enjoyed the compliment. “It was clever. But simple too. I merely appeared to him in the form of the Assyrians’ chief god, Ashur, and commanded him to avenge my name that was being dishonored in Jerusalem. He was quite taken in.”

They watched as the army continued to move inexorably down the road. From time to time the demon escorts would look in the direction of Rugio and cheer him. Rugio acknowledged their homage and encouraged them in their upcoming battle with Michael’s angels, who jealously guarded the holy city.

“The archangel must be demoralized by now,” said Rugio.

“I cannot wait to see the look on his face when once more we enter his holy place,” said Nathan. “This time, however, he is at the mercy of the faith of men—not of angels! I think I shall let him escort me into the presence of the Ark personally!”

Rugio smiled at Nathan’s bitterness toward Michael. Ever since the encounter on earth when Serus came to Michael’s assistance, Nathan had held an unending grudge against the archangel. At last he would get satisfaction!

“The war is slipping away from him,” Rugio surmised, as an elephant trumpeted loudly. “Judah will disappear. And the precious Seed is about to find itself with no nation in which to germinate. Lucifer will get exactly what he has wanted all along—a draw to the game.”

The angels who guarded Jerusalem quietly awaited their next command. They understood that the enemy was headed once more for the gates of Jerusalem. Since the destruction of Israel, the Host had prepared itself for the coming assault. But unlike days past, the number of angels afforded by the people’s prayers was much smaller. Off in the distance Michael could see the Assyrian army—proud and menacing.

Judah’s recent idolatrous past, coupled with the collapse of Israel, had left the people in a state of numbness. Even the recent religious reforms of Hezekiah had not sufficiently captured the national heart. Thus, the strength of the angels in Jerusalem was not what it once was—nor what Michael would like it to be.

The archangel surveyed the magnificent city of Jerusalem from above. Once the home of the Jebusites, Jerusalem had been taken by David and had become the capital of his kingdom. Through the years kings had added to it—expanding its walls, creating public buildings, and erecting marvelous residences. But the greatest structure of all—the jewel of the nation—was the temple of Solomon.

Michael recalled the days when Solomon built the temple—David’s unfulfilled dream realized in his son. The temple was one of the greatest wonders in the world—a marvelous structure of polished stone, whose walls inside were overlaid with pure gold, and whose mysterious inner sanctum captured the hearts of priest and pagan alike.

Most importantly, God’s very Presence, which rested in the Ark of the Testimony, was evidence of the Lord’s continued shepherding of His people. The temple had always been a source of comfort in troubled times—even when they had in many ways forgotten the Lord on whom they called but seldom feared. Looking down at the temple now, Michael wondered what the future held for it—and the rest of the city.

“Michael!”

Michael turned to see Crispin gliding in from above. He smiled at his old teacher with whom he had shared so many incredible experiences since the war began.

“Greetings, good teacher,” hailed Michael. “What brings you to Jerusalem?”

“Curiosity,” said Crispin, motioning for the archangel to follow him. The two continued down into the city, alighting upon the rooftop of Hezekiah’s palace. “The king of Assyria, Sennacherib, that proud puppet of Rugio, has sent a message to Hezekiah. The envoys are just now returning with it.”

“Isaiah is also at court,” said Crispin. “It will be interesting to hear his counsel. Hezekiah has already ignored the prophet’s urging not to become involved with Egypt. Perhaps now that the threat is at his doorstep, he will trust in the Lord.”

“These human kings!” Michael said, shaking his head with disdain. “All they know is blustering threats and coercion. They are truly students of pride.”

“Excellent students,” agreed Crispin, with a sly grin on his face. “Of course they have had a great teacher—the best!”

“My king, this is the envoy of Sennacherib, king of the Assyrians,” said Eliakim, the palace administrator.

Hezekiah motioned for the man to approach. Bowing his head, Eliakim walked to the Assyrian commander and escorted him to the king. The man, dressed in the resplendent garb of the imperial guard, made a curt bow of his head. Hezekiah looked at the man and sized him up: cruel mouth and eyes, proud demeanor—probably a relative of the king or of one of his favorite concubines. An up-and-coming young officer whose future was bright in the bloody world of Assyrian politics.

The king was seated on a couch in a small receiving room. Not one for royal protocol, the king of Judah preferred more informal settings in which to deliberate pressing issues. He said it made him deal with such matters more reasonably. Besides, he had no reason to impress this man. Also present in the room was Shebna, Hezekiah’s secretary, and Joah, the official recorder for the court of Judah.

“Well, you have a message for me,” said Hezekiah. The Assyrian took out a scroll from a wooden box bearing the seal of Sennacherib and read these biting words:

When he had finished reading, the Assyrian commander lowered the manuscript and awaited the king’s invitation to proceed further. Hezekiah simply looked at him and said, ”Yes, what else is there to tell me?”

“King Hezekiah,” he began, “know that my lord Sennacherib, whose empire is the greatest on earth, will be merciful only once. Your people are afraid and your army is incapable of defeating us. Jerusalem shall be besieged and before it is over your men shall be eating their own waste and drinking their own urine in order to survive! This is the price of rebellion. Therefore, do not resist the king.”

After the man had been escorted out, Hezekiah began to tear his clothes, ripping them in tatters before his men. They remained silent as their king sat for a moment in solemn contemplation. Hezekiah looked around him. This was one of the rooms he had played in as a child, when his father was king and he was simply the heir. How simple it all was then! But because of the compromise of the kings before him in allowing Judah to slip into idolatry, even the reforms he had instituted seemed to have occurred too late to save his nation. He looked at his men.

“I want you all to put on sackcloth and send for the prophet Isaiah,” he said. “The man is in Jerusalem. He is the only one who can help us right now. He will hear from the Lord. Go now!”

The men bowed to their king and left the room. Hezekiah watched them leave, thankful to have such capable men around him. He looked out a window. Below him was Jerusalem—tense, holy Jerusalem. The sun was beginning to set behind the top of the temple, creating a marvelous silhouette of the magnificent edifice. That was it! He would go to the temple and pray! He would not bargain with this dog. For now he would let it rest with Isaiah. Surely the Lord would hear his prayers after such mockery by this…this Ashur-worshiping tyrant! He called for a steward.

“I am going to the temple,” he said. “When Eliakim returns tell him that I am there! And get me some sackcloth!”

“Yes, my king,” said the steward, who bowed, stepped out, and returned in a few moments with the rough, prickly material.

“I’m afraid, majesty, that it is a bit filthy,” said the steward ashamedly.

“Not as filthy as the king who is wearing it,” said Hezekiah. “Nor the nation that he governs.”

Outside the antechamber, Isaiah the prophet awaited the return of Hezekiah from the temple. Michael and Crispin stood nearby, observing this curious man of God who had conferred with the two previous kings, Uzziah and Ahaz. Having prophesied during the time of Israel’s destruction, Isaiah had seen in Judah a similar fate if they themselves did not repent. His message was typical of the prophets of his time: Repentance would bring the Lord’s mercy; continued sinful behavior would bring destruction.

He also brought another message, a curious promise of a future King whose vindication of Israel would be eternal and glorious—something very comforting, albeit very remote in these troubling times. Crispin had looked into the prophecies of this man, but understood little more than did the humans to whom they were spoken.

“He certainly speaks of the Seed—this King from David’s line,” remarked Crispin, as he and Michael continued their discussion of the prophet.

“I’m sure he is one of the more troubling prophets to Lucifer,” agreed Michael. As they spoke, Crispin and Michael were joined by Gabriel and Sangius, who had been sent in view of Hezekiah’s prayers that were being lifted up to the Lord.

“Well, Gabriel,” said Crispin. “What news from Heaven? May we expect some relief?”

Gabriel looked at Crispin and then indicated Isaiah, who remained silently awaiting his king. “The Spirit of the Lord shall speak to Hezekiah,” said Gabriel. “He has prayed for deliverance from Sennacherib and has repented on behalf of the nation.”