Rising Darkness (32 page)

As he strolled the balcony of his palace, Nebuchadnezzar looked south toward the ziggurat complex of Etemanki. There, beside the southern wall of that enclosure, was the great temple. He had done all he could to honor Marduk, the chief god of the Chaldeans. The temple was a marvelous structure with two outer courtyards, a number of inner chapels, and a separate sanctuary that honored the god Marduk’s father, Ea. But most magnificent of all was the shrine to Marduk himself.

Located on the western wall, the shrine was entered through an intricate and beautiful façade that towered over the entry. Nebuchadnezzar had covered its walls inside with sparkling gold. The shrine housed a figure of Marduk, also made of gold and seated upon a throne made of gold. Beside the figure was a golden table. Outside the shrine were a golden altar and beside it a bronze altar, on which frankincense was offered every year at Marduk’s chief festival.

Was the god pleased with his efforts to honor him? Nebuchadnezzar wondered if there was more he might do to ensure the continued favor of the god who was sometimes capricious in his dealings with humans. The high priest seemed to believe that all was well, yet the king had been having troubling dreams lately. Looking about him to make certain he was alone, the king got on his knees.

“Marduk, great god of the Chaldeans, what is it that I am to do?” pleaded the king in a whisper as he looked at the great temple in the distance. “I have conquered the world in your name. I have humbled many kings and their gods. I have built for you a great temple that is incomparable. What have I left undone? Send me a sign, great one, that I might know your…”

The sound of a thud nearby made the king look around. There beside him on the balcony lay an eagle, dead. The king looked about to see if someone had tossed it at him.

“Who is there?” he demanded.

A servant came running up the stairs upon hearing his master cry out. The servant bowed low before the king awaiting his command.

“Who has been up here?” Nebuchadnezzar asked.

“You are alone here, great king,” said the shaken servant. “Nobody has passed your guard upon the stairway.”

“Summon Ashpenaz, my chief advisor,” said Nebuchadnezzar. “And bring wine! I will meet him in my chambers.”

“Yes majesty,” said the servant, who just then saw the dead bird. He bent down to pick it up, but the king stopped him.

“Leave it,” said the king.

“A dead eagle, majesty?” responded the servant, quite puzzled. “A message,” said Nebuchadnezzar, looking at the dead bird.

After the king left the balcony to meet with his advisor, Pellecus and several wisdom angels with him strolled the same spot. Pellecus looked down upon the dead bird.

“A message in a bird,” he said sarcastically. “Something of a poem in there: How feeble is the mind of a human king to look at such nonsense and divine a great thing.”

The others laughed aloud at Pellecus’s words.

“Babylon is indeed a great city,” he said. “These people are fairly advanced as humans go. Their knowledge of the arts and sciences and of sorcery is unmatched, even in Egypt. Of course the sorcery comes easily when it is being manipulated by our demons, but it still impresses and captures human minds.”

“So the strategy at this point…” began Drezzan.

“The strategy as always is to use this man to destroy Judah,” said Pellecus. “After all, the Lord’s own prophets have predicted it. Why disappoint Him?”

Laughter.

“And how do we achieve this?” asked Tinius, who had found his way back from disgrace in Lucifer’s eyes. Pellecus had always liked Tinius’s questioning of Lucifer; it flew in the face of decorum at Council. So he had recently courted Tinius and appointed him as one of his own aides.

“Excellent question, Tinius,” said Pellecus. “Lucifer was always disturbed with your incessant questioning. I find it refreshing—to a point. But in answer I must tell you of a very encouraging report I have received from Jerusalem.”

Tinius and the others looked at Pellecus with anticipation of hopeful news from the city they hated. Pellecus began:

“As you know, twice Nebuchadnezzar has entered Jerusalem to put down rebellious behavior. The first time he dealt with Jehoiakim, that Egyptian puppet who took the throne when Josiah was killed in battle. Nebuchadnezzar took many captives and brought them here to Babylon. Then he had to deal with Jehoiakin, who had replaced Jehoiakim. Again he moved in and took many captives. He then replaced the king with a man named Zedekiah, one of Josiah’s brothers. Now, it seems, this man is rumbling about rebellion against Nebuchadnezzar. This time when he moves in, I will make certain that the prophecies foretelling Jerusalem’s destruction will be fulfilled!”

“The problem is that with the captives he also brought the faith,” said Tinius. “These exiles are the nobles and the priests. They have brought it to Babylon with them and are organizing in secret meetings. I think it is dangerous!”

Pellecus nodded in agreement.

“True, the exiles are a bit of a challenge,” he said. “And yet I believe that faced with the luxury of Babylon and the purse of the king—who is willing to train them up in the culture and arts of Egypt in service to Babylon—most will be assimilated relatively calmly.” He scoffed and added, “They have been idolaters for years. This would simply make it official!”

Tinius and the others laughed.

“There are some, majesty, who may not bow to Marduk,” said Drezzan.

“You speak of Daniel, of course,” said Pellecus. “I wouldn’t worry about him.”

“There is another name I hear thrown about,” said Tinius. “A man who now lives in exile on the Chebar…”

“Ah, Ezekiel,” said Pellecus. Tinius looked at Pellecus in surprise. “As you see, I am well-informed in my domain. That is why Kara failed in Egypt and Rugio lost Assyria. They did not respect the knowledge that was available to them. Remember that, my brothers—knowledge is the key to ruling with authority!”

“And Ezekiel?” prompted Tinius.

“Another holy man without a country,” speculated Pellecus. “He too shall disappear, Tinius. I promise that once Jerusalem is destroyed, and its temple gone, the holy men shall become obsolete, their message forgotten.”

“And what happens to the Seed?” asked Tinius.

“The Seed?” repeated Pellecus. “The Seed shall be stillborn. It shall die before it is ever given a chance for life.”

Nebuchadnezzar sipped his wine. He always enjoyed the sweet wine that came from the region near where he was raised as a child. Now he was king, awaiting his advisor’s counsel on this most recent and disturbing message from the gods. Ashpenaz looked at the dead bird, which the king had ordered brought in from the roof.

“Majesty, it is obviously an indication of a kingdom in peril,” he began.

“Whose kingdom?” asked Nebuchadnezzar, as he poured himself more wine and offered a cup to Ashpenaz. “I have done all for Marduk, bless his name. Why should my kingdom be in peril?”

“Perhaps, majesty, it is not your kingdom that is in peril,” offered Ashpenaz. “Perhaps this bird speaks to another kingdom that is in peril…one that is in its death throes even now…”

“You mean Judah,” said Nebuchadnezzar. “I was wondering when you would get to that.” He shook his head. “It is no secret that you have, as a matter of principle, determined that Judah should be completely destroyed. I will not have you turning every omen into an excuse to invade Jerusalem again. Twice I have been to Jerusalem. I believe its people are sufficiently humbled.”

Ashpenaz produced a scroll that bore the seal of Nebuchadnezzar along with that of the Babylonian governor of Syria. He looked at the king, who returned his look with a skeptical glare.

“Well?” asked the king. “You are obviously anxious to read me something else about Judah, no doubt.”

“Anxious, no,” said Ashpenaz. “But quite troubled. And yes, the news concerns Judah.”

Nebuchadnezzar snatched the scroll from the chief of his court officials and as he read, Ashpenaz continued speaking. “It seems, majesty, that Zedekiah has withheld tribute from our collectors. His counselors have even gone so far as to insult our officials. To their shame, they have even spoken against you, O king…”

As he read, Nebuchadnezzar was becoming visibly more and more angry. He looked up from the scroll when he was finished and handed it back to Ashpenaz.

“So you see, majesty, these people are by nature stiff-necked and rebellious,” Ashpenaz continued. “I have ordered arrests of many of the Jews whom we have exiled into our own country. I believe we should imprison them…”

“No!” said Nebuchadnezzar loudly. “I told you that I want to bring them into our empire and use their skills. These are a very capable people, Ashpenaz. They are noble, spiritual people. I want you to take from the most recent exiles—those who are fast learners and handsome—and bring them to the palace and let them have a taste of real culture. I tell you—once these Hebrews begin to see what we have to offer, they will enter into our service; and all thoughts of rebellion will be crushed!”

“I will see to it,” said Ashpenaz reluctantly. “And as to Zedekiah?”

“I sought your wisdom,” said the king. “You are a great counselor. Now I shall seek the wisdom of Marduk himself. He will give us indication. In the meantime—I want you to personally recruit from the Jews men as I have described and bring them to the palace. This shall prove to all my subject peoples the benefit of being a part of the greatest empire on earth!”

Pellecus awaited the king inside the shrine of Marduk. Tinius was with him, noting the human love for gold. The image itself glimmered from the strategically positioned mirrors that reflected light from behind, casting an eerie iridescence in the room. Tinius looked at Pellecus, who was seated atop the idol.

“How disturbing it must be to the Most High to be portrayed so grotesquely,” he said, patting the image’s head. “After all, He made it the second most offensive point of His commandments.”

“Why does He not want to be portrayed?” asked Tinius. “I should think it would honor Him.”

“Because, Tinius, part of His power lies in His anonymity,” came a voice.

“Ah my prince, welcome to Babylon,” said Pellecus to Lucifer.

“I have just returned from Zedekiah’s court,” said Lucifer. “Kara has those fools actually believing that they can oppose Nebuchadnezzar!” He laughed. “They will be slaughtered, of course.”

“The king is about to hear from Marduk,” said Pellecus. “I prophesy it shall be a very destructive meeting.”

Lucifer looked intently at Pellecus.

“There is much at stake here, Pellecus,” he said gravely. “We must destroy not only the nation; we must destroy the reason for the nation.”

“The reason?” asked Tinius.

“Yes, of course,” agreed Pellecus. “With the cream of Jewish society in exile, we must make Jerusalem become a place so desolate that there will be no reason ever to return—thus nullifying the Seed’s relevance. Correct?”

“I see you have worked it all out,” said Lucifer. “Yes, that is correct. Two times Nebuchadnezzar has entered the city. This time there must not be a city left to reenter. This includes everything—the palaces, the walls…and the temple.”

“The temple?” said Tinius nervously. “You would destroy the temple? The Most High’s seat of Presence upon earth?”