The Strength Of His Hand Part 22

"I wanted to be in control, Eliakim-to be able to save myself.

When I was a child, my father sent soldiers to the palace nursery for my brothers and me. They carried us away against our wills and sacrificed my brothers to Molech. I watched my father burn them alive in the flames, and I was powerless to save them or myself. Being helpless is such a terrifying feeling that I swore I'd never experience it again. That's what motivates me to make alliances. I want to save my nation and myself from a.s.syria. I don't ever want to stand helpless before my enemies again. But now I wish I could roll time backward and do everything differently. I wish I had listened to you and had never made a treaty with Babylon. But I can't change what I've done. I can't go back in time ... only forward."

Eliakim sat with his head lowered, twisting the signet ring on his finger as if he still expected Hezekiah to ask for it.

"I want to follow your advice this time, too, Eliakim, but I can't. I just wanted to explain that to you, alone. I have no choice. I have to go to war against King Padi. But I'm going to ask General Jonadab to take him alive and bring him here to Jerusalem."

"Then I don't understand. How can I help you, Your Majesty?"

"Don't be afraid to disagree with me. I value your opinion, Eliakim, even if I can't always heed it."

"Of course, Your Majesty. I'm very honored."

"In the meantime, let's both pray that Shebna is right-that his dream of a coalition of nations will work. And that a.s.syria wouldn't dare attack such a united front."

18.

THE a.s.sYRIAN WARRIOR Iddina sat in Emperor Sennacherib's palace in Nineveh and stared at the remains of the banquet in front of him. Neither the magnificent new hall nor the lavish meal he had just eaten could subdue his fierce restlessness and discontent. In fact, the scenes of battle and conquest carved in bas-relief on the walls around him had further inflamed his resentment. The emperor had promoted Iddina to four-star general, one of only three in the empire. The other two generals sat at the emperor's table with him. But Iddina had never tested his new commission. After several tedious years of peace, he longed for the intoxication of battle, the feel of the hard ground beneath him at night, the sound of killing, the scent of death.

One panel of wall carvings had particularly disturbed him. It showed King Jehu of Israel bowing in submission before the a.s.syrian emperor Shalmaneser. Seven years ago Iddina had led the destruction and deportation of Israel, but he had never recaptured his Israelite slave girl, Jerusha. The knowledge of his failure, the knowledge that she had beaten him at his own game still haunted him and filled him with rage. He had unfinished business with Israel and with her sister nation, Judah. They wors.h.i.+ped the same G.o.d. And Iddina's life would be incomplete until he saw every man, woman, and child in both nations slaughtered and their G.o.d defeated.

"How many men have you killed, Iddina?"

He turned to the high priest of a.s.sur, seated across from him, and wondered how the man had come so close to reading his thoughts.

"Only men? Or women and children, as well?"

"Human beings. A dozen? A hundred? A thousand?"

Iddina decided to use the priest's curiosity to amuse himself and relieve his boredom. He leaned closer. "Do you want to know how many I've killed with my own two hands? How much blood has stained my fingers? Or how many deaths I've ordered-how many I'm responsible for?"

"With your own two hands." The priest looked fascinated and a little afraid.

Iddina smiled for the first time all evening. He fed off others' fear; it nourished him like food and water. He laid his palms flat on the table in front of him, as if putting his hands on display.

"In my youth as a warrior the scribes always paid me well when they took their head count. I usually averaged two hundred to three hundred skulls in every battle. And I've been in hundreds of battles. My best count was four hundred sixty-three in a single battle against the Elamites." The priest leaned closer, waiting. His breathing had quickened. "Of course, as the emperor promoted me through the ranks, I saw less hand-to-hand combat. He placed me in charge of the tortures for a while-impaling, beheading, flaying people alive. I tortured hundreds of people to death during those years. I've held the severed heads of countless enemy generals in these hands and stared into their vacant eyes, knowing they would never threaten me again."

"Don't you ever wonder about the spirits of all the people you've slaughtered?" the priest asked. "What a mighty host of demons those thousands of souls would make if they came back to you for revenge!

Yet I notice you wear no amulets or fetishes against these spirits."

Iddina smiled. He was aware of the stillness at the table as everyone leaned closer to listen. Even Emperor Sennacherib, who had adorned his own neck and arms and ankles with charms against the spirit world, listened with interest. Iddina basked in his superiority over these childishly superst.i.tious people.

"No, I'm not afraid of the power of demons," Iddina answered. He savored the look of shocked surprise on everyone's face.

"Those are brave words," the priest said, "from a man who has killed-what would you say-more than five thousand people? I'm surprised you can sleep at night."

Iddina waited until the nervous laughter around the table died away. "I was only a child when my father died on a battlefield somewhere, fighting for Emperor Tiglath-Pileser. He was never buried, and I spent my youth paying homage to dozens of demiG.o.ds and demons, hoping to ward off disaster, hoping my father's abandoned spirit wouldn't avenge himself by cursing my family with illness or some other catastrophe. I feared that he would glide into our home at night disguised as a demon to terrify my family for not sending him to the spirit world with a proper burial. I built altars in my youth, made offerings of fruit and grain and meat. Sometimes the G.o.ds ate better than I did. Appeasing them was my foremost concern. My arms and neck were weighed down with all the fetishes and amulets I'd created."

Iddina paused to sip his wine, and the priest grew impatient with the delay. "Then why do you no longer fear the spirit world?"

"Because now I have defeated hundreds of G.o.ds in battle." The priest gasped. Iddina smiled in satisfaction. With the high priest silenced, Emperor Sennacherib himself continued the questioning.

"Are you a G.o.d yourself, Iddina, that you claim to have conquered G.o.ds?"

"Not at all. In fact, Lord Emperor, you have slain G.o.ds, as well."

"Really. If this is flattery, Iddina, I like it. Explain yourself."

"It's simple. If you've conquered a nation, you've defeated their G.o.ds. Those deities weren't able to protect their people from you. You've proven that you are more powerful than those G.o.ds were. You needn't fear them."

"Then in your view, I'm not only emperor over all the nations but emperor over their G.o.ds, as well?"

"Yes. When people are terrified, they turn to their G.o.ds for help. If those G.o.ds can't save them, they surrender to whatever terrifies them: you, my lord. You've become their G.o.d."

Sennacherib appeared pleased. "I like that. But tell me, Iddina- which G.o.ds do you fear?"

Iddina glanced at the priest. "I wors.h.i.+p a.s.sur, ruler of the G.o.ds.

But I no longer fear him. I've earned a.s.sur's favor by the countless human sacrifices I've made in his name and by the many lesser deities I've defeated for him. Dozens of G.o.ds have bowed to a.s.sur's sword, and I've brought their conquered images to his temple and laid them at his feet."

Sennacherib stood and applauded softly. "Well said. But tell me, General Iddina-have you had your fill of killing men and conquering G.o.ds?"

"On the contrary, there are still a few G.o.ds whose images aren't resting in a.s.sur's temple. As for killing men-" Iddina paused, fingering his wine goblet-"what motivates me isn't seeing their blood on my hands, but seeing the fear in their eyes. Over the years I've grown bored with mere physical torture. Mental torture is so much more satisfying. The human mind can imagine far greater fear and pain than my two hands could ever inflict. I prefer to engage in warfare of the mind. I like to study my enemies carefully before my army marches, then exploit their superst.i.tions and fears until they bow at my feet."

"Interesting," Sennacherib murmured. "Very interesting." He slowly paced the length of the table, deep in thought. Iddina could feel the tension in the room. When the emperor finally came to a stop, all eyes were on him. "I've invited everyone to this banquet tonight for one reason: to announce that we're going to war."

Iddina sat forward on the edge of his seat, resisting the urge to cheer.

"As you know," Sennacherib continued, "my father spent six years building his capital here in Nineveh, giving our empire six years of peace. But he ignored some of the distant nations in his empire and now they've grown restive and rebellious. I've invited my three generals to attend tonight so I could choose one of them to be commander in chief of my armed forces. I favored you for this job, Iddina." He gazed at him levelly. "We worked together closely under my father, and I admire your ruthlessness."

Iddina battled to conceal his growing excitement. He wanted this job badly.

Sennacherib smiled. "But after hearing your views on conquering the G.o.ds, Iddina, I've changed my mind."

Hidden beneath the table, Iddina squeezed his hands into fists until his fingernails bit into his flesh. His heart hammered with rage, and he wanted to snap the high priest's neck for goading him into sharing so much about himself. He slowly relaxed his fists and cracked his knuckles, one by one, imagining they were the bones in the priest's neck.

"No, Iddina, you won't be my commander, because I believe I've found an even better job for you: my Rabshekah. I'd like a spokesman who fears neither man nor G.o.d."

The emperor's propaganda chief ! Instilling fear and suspicion, destroying minds! Iddina broke into a slow smile. "It will be a pleasure, Your Majesty."

"Good. I have already consulted with the priests, and the omens for war have been favorable. First, I will attack Babylon. They are the real power behind all the unrest in my empire, so they will be the first to feel my wrath. I will lead my entire armed forces against them in a surprise attack, striking so swiftly and ruthlessly that they won't have time to call on their feeble allies for help."

The emperor's fierce hatred for the Babylonians was well known, and it didn't surprise Iddina to learn that he planned to eliminate them first. Iddina imagined the splendor of watching a quarter of a million men march into battle, the excitement of ch.o.r.eographing a relentless siege and attack, the thrill of witnessing ma.s.s genocide. He quivered with antic.i.p.ation.

"When Babylon is finished," Sennacherib continued, "I will destroy her allies one by one and watch my new slaves carry their pitiful G.o.ds back here to a.s.syria. I've decided to save Egypt for last. It is a prize that has eluded my ancestors, and I want it in my empire."

One of the other generals asked for permission to speak. "Aren't you afraid the Egyptian army will come to the defense of her allies? Together they could a.s.semble an army nearly as large as ours."

"That's doubtful. Babylon holds this alliance together, in spite of the tricks she has employed to make me think otherwise. Without her, I predict the others will quickly surrender, especially once my new Rabshekah begins waging his warfare of the mind on them. That will clear the path to Egypt-and to world domination!"

As they drank a toast to their imminent conquests, Iddina studied the battle scenes carved on Sennacherib's walls once more, especially the one in which Israel's king bowed in submission. He could hardly wait to bring revenge on the Hebrews in retaliation for the girl who had escaped his grasp. She undoubtedly thought her G.o.d had delivered her from him. But he would soon defeat all of her people and carry her G.o.d to a.s.sur's temple in Nineveh. Only then would Iddina be certain that he had won at last.

The emperor held his gla.s.s high. "To victory!" he cried.

"To victory!" Iddina echoed.

Part Three.

After all that Hezekiah had so faithfully done, Sennacherib king of a.s.syria came and invaded Judah. He laid siege to the fortified cities, thinking to conquer themfor himself.

_________.

2 CHRONICLES 32 : 1.

19.

THE KING OF BABYLON PACED the length of the wharf, casting anxious glances at the cargo s.h.i.+p that stood loaded and waiting beside the ca.n.a.l. Only the sounds of croaking frogs and lapping water disturbed the warm, muggy night. As King Merodach-Baladan retraced his steps, scanning the darkened streets, the s.h.i.+p's captain approached him warily.

"Your Majesty, we should cast off soon if you want to reach Basra before dawn."

"Yes, yes-of course. Just a few more minutes. My officials should be here any- Ah, here they are now." Torch lights bobbed toward him in the darkness, and as the figures drew closer, he recognized the pale, worried faces of his secretary of state and prime minister. "I'll be ready to cast off in five minutes, Captain. Kindly tell my officials that I wish to speak with them alone."

Merodach-Baladan moved into the shadows at the end of the wharf and waited. A few moments later, the two men edged nervously toward him. "Over here, gentlemen," he called.

"Your Majesty?"

"Yes, it's me. I'm sorry for all this secrecy in the dark of night, but as you'll soon see, it was necessary."

"What's going on?"

"And why are you dressed like a peasant?"

The king glanced down at his coa.r.s.e tunic, stained with sweat beneath the armpits, threadbare at the elbows. He leaned against a piling and sighed. "Because I've gambled and lost. I'm sorry, gentlemen, but our dream is finished."

The prime minister's melancholy eyes filled with apprehension. "What gamble? What on earth are you talking about?"

"The a.s.syrians are marching toward Babylon. They have more than a quarter of a million troops."

The prime minister swayed as if his knees might give way.

"Obviously we're not ready to withstand such a ma.s.sive invasion," the king continued, "so I have no choice but to surrender and submit to them."

"What about our allies?" the secretary of state asked, his voice shaking. "Have you summoned them to help us?"

"There won't be enough time. Besides, the a.s.syrians sent advance forces to seal off our borders. Our allies couldn't get through to help us even if they wanted to."

The prime minister looked as if he needed to sit down, but there was no place to sit. "How could this happen? Wasn't there any warning?" "None. I gambled that Sennacherib wouldn't go on the offensive for another year, and I lost. I'd also hoped that he might go after our western allies first-or at least split his forces between two fronts-but he's marching his entire army toward us."

"A quarter of a million troops?" the secretary moaned.

"Yes. At least. We've lost, gentlemen. It's over before it even starts. So rather than subject Babylon to a lengthy siege that we can't possibly win ..."

"You're giving up?" The prime minister's eyes widened.

The king shrugged. "There's no other choice."

"Did your military advisors agree to surrender?"

"I haven't told them."

"You would surrender without-"

"We could never mobilize enough men to match the a.s.syrian forces. Be realistic. They're professional warriors. We're not ready for them. Maybe we'd be ready in another year, but we barely have another day!"

The secretary looked as if he were having a nightmare. "So you're giving up? Just like that?"

"What other choice do I have? Should I let them besiege the city until we're pounded and starved into submission? We can't win! Why destroy ourselves?"

"Why are we arguing about it out here in the middle of the night instead of in your council room?" the prime minister asked.

"Because I'm leaving in a few minutes. I want to make sure my family is downstream by dawn. I can best serve Babylon by leading the resistance in exile, rather than by being flayed alive by the a.s.syrians. I've grown quite fond of my skin over the years." Neither man smiled at his pathetic joke.

"What about the rest of us? Don't we deserve a chance to escape?"

"That's exactly why you're here, gentlemen. You've served me faithfully over the years. Now if you're wise, you'll get out before it's too late."

"What about all your other officials? You're just leaving them here to die? Without any warning?"

"They'll receive the official announcement in the morning. I just thought that you two ... well, I thought you deserved a little more time to make some plans."