THE CHOSEN: A Man Much Loved: Historical Fiction (The Chosen Trilogy Book 3) Read online

  He did not know what time he reached his home. He was eager to see Nejeen, and talk with her, feel her closeness. She’s sure to be asleep by now, he reflected gloomily. He bathed to refresh himself, went to his room, stripped off his clothes and climbed into the broad bed. And here a surprise awaited him: Nejeen was there. Under the blanket, on the other side of the bed.

  “How did you guess?” he asked, in a bemused, shaky voice.

  “Guessing had nothing to do with it,” she answered him in that calm tone of hers that never failed to instil tenderness and joy. “I was drawn here.”

  “How so?” he persisted.

  “I realised how much you need me just now!”

  Their bodies drew closer, and arms entwined. Her breath had a fragrance unrivalled by any of the perfumes of the world; it was the balm of the countryside and the freshness of the field, and the purity of the constant heart.

  “You should know…” he began to say, meaning to tell her how hard it was to imagine his world without her, but before he could utter another word, he heard her saying, almost in his ear:

  “God is real! And as the prophet says, Cursed is the man who trusts in man, and he goes on to say, Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord!”

  “But there are times when man is divine,” he pointed out. “It’s written in the Scriptures: I said, you are God, and all of you sons of the Most High!”

  “That is true,” she said, and turned on him the tranquil lustre of her eyes. He felt the depression melt and the tension dissolve.

  “And what of the King?” she asked.

  “He’s troubled!” he replied with a smile.

  “Jeremiah calls him ‘my servant Nebuchadnezzar’,” she commented.

  “There is none worthier than him to bear that title,” he said, recalling all that had been said that evening. “God is with that man!” he concluded.

  “You like him then!” she declared.

  “Admire him!” he retorted.

  “And you say he’s worthy of the title Jeremiah has given him?”

  “No one is more so!” he confirmed.

  “And yet – he’s a worshipper of idols!”

  “It’s ingrained in him. But it seems the time isn’t far away when he’ll put all that behind him!”

  Oh my Father in Heaven, my God, how can I thank you for bringing me so close to this beloved body, not so much a body as a beam of pure light, emanating from you, with the fragrance of wild flowers and the warm youth of the springtime, never flagging and never failing, praising you and telling of your glory, and knowing your name, as I know it. For all that comes from your hand is good and beautiful, wise and brave. For you are love and you are my love!

  They exchanged no more words, and even their breathing did nothing to impair the harmonious silence, binding the two bodies in a loving and inseparable union, of heavenly provenance and heavenly aspiration.

  He was not aware of the passage of the night, or the retreat of the distant line of the grey horizon, fading away into nothing. He was not aware of time or its indications. He melted into her utterly, and she ceased to exist as a body apart, and became him.

  The rising dawn found them in each other’s arms, silent, non-existent, knowing the love of God, and known to Him.

  They broke their fast on the veranda that was all flowers and verdant green. The air was clear, the skies high aloft, and there was silence everywhere. They both knew something was about to happen, something far from pleasant, and they were going to witness it. And they did not fear it, since their togetherness was absolute, and their sole desire was to dispel grief and gloom – each from the heart of the other.

  They smiled as they drank the honey-water and tasted the fresh bread with butter and honey.

  And this blessed silence overhanging the void was suddenly, rudely shattered by the thunder of drums and cries of “Long live the King!”

  The air vibrated to the sound, and the cutlery on the table jangled.

  Without a word spoken they both rose from their seats, lithe young bodies standing firm and eyes seeing the space extending from the gates of Nebuchadnezzar’s palace to the gates of Zebava and Urash. He moved forward to the rail and leaned on it. She remained behind.

  In the ninth year of the reign of Zedekiah over Judah, in the month of Sivan, the first day of the month, the army of Nebuchadnezzar, King of Babylon, was poised and ready to leave Babylon and march to war against Judah and Jerusalem. And the army was great and powerful, with foot-soldiers and cavalry and war-chariots, siege-engines and battering-rams.

  And the army was drawn up in regiments, battalions and platoons, with flags and standards, along the northern wall, stretching from the palace to the city gates, more than five Chaldean parasangs. And the city of Babylon, greatest and fairest of all the cities of the world, was too small to contain this vast army. And as the King and his retinue, in the purple robes of war and mounted on stately horses, took their places before the massed ranks, drums rolled and the army raised a great cheer, shouting in chorus “Long live the King!” – and all of Babylon resounded to the awesome sound and the ground shook underfoot and the foundations of houses and of gaudy temples quaked, and there were some among the populace who thought this was the end of the world, and the dead were rising for judgment.

  And the King and his retinue mounted a stage constructed for the purpose, still on horseback, and the soldiers and the people of Babylon saw the King and his closest aides in all their finery, the gold trappings and accoutrements of the King and his horse, and the silver ornaments of the retinue, men and horses alike – all gleaming in the bright light of the rising sun.

  And Nebuchadnezzar spoke, and all listened attentively to the words of the Chaldean King:

  “God has called me to rule over this land, and in His manifold grace, He has given everything into my hands! So I rule with the consent of God and I act with the courage that has been given to me, and with the valour and wisdom bequeathed to me. And the King of Judah, whom I made King over his people, the Jewish people, swore an oath of allegiance to me, by his holy books and in the presence of the priests who serve his God, and his ministers were witnesses. And I have never pressed him to do anything, or tempted him into anything, and I did not force him to rule, or burden him with taxation, as I have done with other peoples that I conquered by force of arms, other peoples that God placed beneath my feet. And he was like a son to me, whom I appointed to rule in my stead in the land of Judah, the nation that has offended sorely before God. And this child, who without me would not have lasted a day on his throne, has rebelled against me and rebuffed my envoys, men of distinction, the elite of Babylon, and sent them away empty-handed, with contempt, refusing to pay even the paltry tribute required under the terms of his oath. And in my wrath I turned to my gods and asked them what is be done to an insolent rebel, and they answered me, the gods that I serve: Set forth with this army and invade Judah, and lay siege to Jerusalem, and teach this upstart, who owes his throne to you, a bitter lesson!

  “I swear by all that is sacred to me, I shall show this foolish boy neither mercy nor compassion, and from me he can expect no kindness, only cruelty. I am marching on rebellious Judah to smash and to shatter and to ruin, not to plant or rebuild or restore! I, Nebuchadnezzar, King of Babylon, conqueror of the world, go forth into this war as envoy of the gods of Babylon, and as envoy and servant of the God of the Jews, and I shall return from it the victor!” the King concluded his oration.

  And the army, and with it all the citizens of mighty Babylon, who had come out into the streets or stood on the roofs and the balconies, to see the King and his army and his retinue and hear his address, replied to the King with a rousing chorus of “Long live the King!” and “God speed the King!” and “Death to the traitor Zedekiah!” and “Down with the rebels!” – until all ears rang to the sound.

  And the horns were blown and the trumpets sounded, and the great bass-drums and then the kettle-drums took up the rhythm of the
march, and the heavy gates of the city swung open, and the army was on the move, like a tidal wave advancing with irresistible force, sweeping aside anything that stands in its way.

  Standing at the railing of his veranda, with its profusion of flowers, he looked down at the crowds and heard their cries and their acclaim, and his heart was heavy, and when Nejeen approached quietly and stood beside him, he repeated in an unsteady voice the words of the prophet Isaiah:

  “And he will hoist a signal to nations far away, he will whistle to call them from the ends of the earth, and see, they come quickly. None is weary, not one of them stumbles, not one slumbers or sleeps. None has his belt loose about his waist, or a broken thong to his sandals. Their arrows are sharpened and their bows all strung, their horses’ hooves flash like shooting stars, their chariot-wheels are like the whirlwind. Their growling is the growling of a lioness, they snarl like young lions, which roar as they seize the prey and carry it away, beyond deliverance. They shall roar over it on that day like the roaring of the sea. If a man looks out over the earth, he will see darkness closing in, and the light turning dark on the hill-tops.”

  Seraiah-Ben-Neriah-Ben-Mahseiah

  About a year after King Nebuchadnezzar set out for Jerusalem at the head of his army, a Jew of diminutive stature arrived in Babylon, clad in a faded cloak and a threadbare shawl, his beard sparse and his back stooped, and a feverish look in his eyes, which flashed and darted about in their sockets. At first it was assumed he had lost his wits and was not entirely sane, but finally, when he insisted most vehemently on seeing the King’s viceroy, none other than Belteshazzar, on the grounds that he had been entrusted the task of bringing him news from the homeland, initial impressions were revised. Belteshazzar was informed, and he sent for the man.

  It was a fine and glorious morning in late spring. The air was clear and buoyant, the sun shone and its warmth was pleasant; flowers opened their gaudy calices and thirstily imbibed the sacred light of their Creator, and birds trilled tunefully.

  The window of his office was wide open, overlooking the city of Babylon that was bathed in the tranquil radiance of a youthful morning.

  The man, reputedly from Jerusalem and asking to see him, was admitted.

  He did not bow or show any sign of deference. Crook-backed and of indeterminate age, he looked worn out. His clothing was worn and tattered, his reddish-brown hair and beard unkempt, his greenish eyes livid and suspicious.

  “My name is Seraiah Ben-Neriah Ben-Mahseiah,” he introduced himself, and when the other rose to greet him and extended his hand, he did not clasp it but merely touched it absently with his own, as if his mind were elsewhere, detached from his surroundings.

  “Would you like to sit?” he smiled, in an effort to reassure the man and restore some semblance of lucidity to him; it seemed he was either seeing visions or engrossed in a dream.

  “Sit?” he echoed blankly, staring in utter incomprehension. It took him a few moments to realise what had been said, whereupon he exclaimed, “Oh yes, sit!” – and did so, cautiously, facing him across the table and looking tense.

  “From Jerusalem I come, the steadfast city that is encompassed by foreign armies, besieged by Nebuchadnezzar King of Babylon and his troops. Jerusalem,” he declared emphatically, “is hungry for bread, and thirsty for water, and is sorely afflicted! And if the truth be told, the full and naked truth – Jerusalem is dying, yes, dying! And I would not have left the place, deserting it in its hour of greatest need, had I not been expressly instructed to do so, had a mission not been entrusted to me. A mission on behalf of the Lord Blessed be He, and His loyal servant and holy prophet, none other than Jeremiah of Anathoth, of the priestly line! He it was who asked me to take on this mission and leave the beleaguered city, pleading and cajoling until I finally consented. For myself, I would rather stay with my compatriots and die an honourable death than survive in a foreign land!”

  His voice was monotonous, as if he were reciting texts that he had learned by heart or praying in the Temple, and there was not the slightest movement of body or limbs to accompany the flow of his speech. It seemed he was not aware of everything he was saying, or even whether the other was paying attention to him or not. His weary, bulging eyes were transfixed in sudden alarm on the top of the broad table, as if there was something strange about it, strange and menacing.

  “Will you take breakfast with me?” he asked him pleasantly, adding at once – “I would consider it an honour!”

  The fugitive raised his unkempt head for the first time since entering the room, and looked him in the eye. It seemed he was still surprised to find himself in these surroundings and in this company.

  “Breakfast?” he repeated like an echo. “With the greatest pleasure, gracious Sir, Lord Belteshazzar!”

  “If you like, you can call me Daniel!” he said, in an effort towards further cordiality.

  “Yes, Daniel!” he agreed, and resumed his monologue: “Two missions were entrusted to me by the prophet Jeremiah, and it is my sacred obligation to fulfil them in the letter and in the spirit. One is directed to you, the other to the exiles of Babylon. And on account of these missions I had to make a hasty departure from my home city, Jerusalem the ever holy, leaving behind me friends and family and knowing for sure I would never see them again with these eyes of mine, nor they see me. I didn’t even say goodbye to them, with the one exception of my eldest son, Nathaniel, who is serving in King Zedekiah’s army. I also told him about the double mission imposed upon me. Unlike most of his comrades in arms, he doesn’t believe that the prophet Jeremiah is siding with the Chaldeans. He encouraged me, telling me this mission of mine is the Lord’s work, and everything that Jeremiah prophesied has come about, and disaster awaits us because we defied the Lord our God and did not heed His voice, and the wheel has turned too far to be stopped, and the King of the Chaldeans can no longer be appeased, and Zedekiah knows all of this, and knows too that nothing is left for him and the beleaguered citizens of Jerusalem, other than embrace the Holy Name and die with honour. Yes, this is what my firstborn son told me, Nathaniel, may God prolong his years and fill them with joy and prosperity! And he wished me well in my mission, saying I had done the right thing approaching him and giving the news only to him, sparing the other members of my household pointless grief and upset. He would tell them himself when the time seemed appropriate and besides, my departure was not in itself an occasion for distress and lamentation. Despite the rigours of the long journey on which I was embarking, from Jerusalem to Babylon, I need have no fear of danger, as the Lord would be with me, protecting me from my enemies and allowing no harm to befall me. I had been appointed a divine messenger, and as our sages have assured us, a divine messenger is not in peril, but will always arrive in safety. And as he said – so it has proved. Here I am, treading the soil of Babylon, and here I am before you!”

  The heavy door of the office opened, and Oshrich bowed and waited in silence for his instructions.

  “Breakfast please – and an extra jug of warm milk for my guest!”

  Oshrich bowed again and disappeared behind the closed door.

  “And how is the prophet Jeremiah faring?” he asked with interest.

  “He has been abused and imprisoned, then released and now he has disappeared from sight! God took pity on him and hid him from his persecutors, those who have eyes to see and see not, ears to hear and hear not. Only the King, in his terror and confusion, consults him secretly and hears his words – hears but does not obey. He’s afraid of the Chaldeans and he dreads the Jews, and he is pinning all his hopes on the Egyptians, expecting them to arrive at the last moment and extricate him from the pit that he’s dug for himself! The fact is,” the guest declared, “where faith is lacking and there is no knowledge of God – hunger and plague and the sword take their place, and ruin and destruction are not far behind. We have been clearly told – Not by strength and not by might but by my spirit – and who listens to this now?

  “King
Zedekiah did try to reverse his policy and negotiate with the Chaldeans, but his ministers and advisers objected, reminding him that he was the one who incited them to rebel in the first place, and it was far too late to change anything.”

  A heavily laden tray was set on the table. Fresh bread, milk steaming in clay jugs, butter, cheese, honey, olives, pears and apples – produce of the mountainous regions, fresh from the verdant plantations of fair Jahanur.

  The guest swooped on the food and said no more. It was clear that he had been hungry for a very long time. Not wanting to embarrass him, he took only a small morsel of bread for himself and drank half a cup of warm milk, but the other was not at all abashed, and such was his hunger, it seemed nothing else existed for him. When he had consumed everything on the tray, leaving only a few crumbs of bread and a scrap of butter, the guest wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, shook crumbs from his tattered cloak, lifted his head and looked at him, this time with an air of satisfaction.

  He clapped his hands and Oshrich came and removed the tray, giving the guest a damp cloth and wiping a few stray crumbs from the table.

  “About you,” Seraiah Ben-Neriah Ben-Mahseiah resumed, “I have heard many strange things! There are some who say you have defected to the Chaldeans, and others who say that even if they saw it with their own eyes, they would not believe it. They remember your father, the minister Naimel, who fell in battle, one standing against many – the memory of the saints be blessed!” He added as if it were an afterthought: “Your family has survived, your mother, your two sisters, one of whom has married, and your younger brother.

  “It is said of you that you asked one of Nebuchadnezzar’s senior officers to look after your family when the city is stormed and keep them from any harm. That’s what the trouble-makers are whispering, and the gullible swallow the bait and complain – ‘What about us? Don’t we count as family?’ It’s all just rumours. Anyway, your name is widely known in Judah and it arouses both admiration and acute dissension. People are very disappointed that you didn’t succeed in influencing the pagan king and turning his heart towards mercy and compassion, persuading him against marching on Jerusalem in a mood of fury, determined to exact his revenge!”