Among the Gods (Chronicles of the Kings Book #5) Page 9
A final call was made to the passengers as the ferry finished loading and was preparing to cast off.
“I need to go, Hadad.”
He caught her arm roughly. “Wait for the next boat.”
She watched the sailors release the mooring lines and push away from shore, then she turned to Hadad again. “What’s the real reason you don’t want me to go?”
For a moment he looked startled, as if her question had caught him off guard and he didn’t have a ready answer. Then his anger returned. “Because it’s too dangerous. You’re risking your life for nothing.”
“If it’s so dangerous, then why is Dinah going?”
Hadad quickly turned his face away as if he had something to hide, but Miriam couldn’t imagine what it was. “Believe me,” he finally said, “I’m against the idea. But Amariah insisted that Dinah come with us, and Joshua finally gave in to him.”
Miriam had a hard time imagining the prince insisting on his own way, much less standing up to Joshua.
“Miriam, please reconsider,” Hadad said. “Let Joshua find someone else to accompany Dinah.”
“Since when do you care so much about my life?”
“There is a very good chance that this mission will fail. If it does, we’ll all be killed. I don’t have much to live for now that Dinah is lost to me, but you do. If you could only see Joshua’s heart for what it is … if you could just get over him, Miriam, you could have a decent life, a husband, a family.”
“Can you stop loving Dinah,” she asked softly, “even though you know she’ll never be yours?” She saw that she had struck a vulnerable spot, poking a wound that hadn’t healed.
Hadad vented his pain with anger. “How can I convince you to stay here? It’s much too dangerous! This mission may not end with one battle, Miriam. Even if we kill Manasseh, there’s still Zerah to contend with and—”
“Who’s Zerah?”
“Manasseh’s palace administrator. He’s a very dangerous man, and he has a powerful hold over the king. He’s always hovering beside Manasseh, caressing him and gazing at him with his sinister crossed eyes. He gave me the creeps, Miriam. But Manasseh has given Zerah a great deal of power for some reason, and even if we kill the king, Zerah could easily rally the troops and proclaim himself king in his place.”
“What does Joshua say about all this?”
A strange expression crossed Hadad’s face. The anger and vulnerability she’d glimpsed quickly vanished, replaced by the eerie deadness once again. “Joshua knows all the risks. But I’m sure he didn’t explain any of them to you, did he?”
Miriam didn’t reply. She watched a second ferry approach the shore and tie up at the dock.
“Is there any way at all that I can talk you out of going?” Hadad asked.
Miriam considered his question for a moment, and when she finally answered him, her voice was a soft murmur. “The first time I met Joshua he was sick with a fever. He might have died if I hadn’t nursed him back to health. Then my father and I helped him escape from Jerusalem. It cost Abba his life. After the explosion at the Temple, if I hadn’t gone back to look for him, Joshua wouldn’t have survived. If anything happens to him on this mission and I’m not there to help him, I’ll never forgive myself.”
The ferry arrived; the passengers from the mainland filed off. As Miriam moved to join the line of people waiting to board, Hadad walked beside her. He stopped her just before she boarded and took her arm again.
“He isn’t worth your life, Miriam. Joshua will never love you the way you love him.”
“I know, Hadad. I know Joshua can’t change. But neither can I.”
8
“IT WAS RIGHT ABOUT HERE.” King Manasseh pointed to the place where he thought the beggar woman had once read his and Joshua’s palms, years ago, when they had been boys. Zerah had insisted that they walk down to the Kidron Valley, hoping that a return to the site would help jog Manasseh’s memory of her prophecy. His men had searched for the woman, but it had happened too long ago—more than ten years. She was probably dead.
Everything seemed different to Manasseh, the trees bigger, the road narrower, the surrounding fields shrunken. “It was cold and raining that day,” he began. “Joshua was the one who first stopped to talk to her. He wanted to give her some money, but he’d forgotten his pouch so I gave her a piece of silver. In return, she read my palm. She had no idea I was the king.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure! She was nearly blind. Besides, I wasn’t wearing royal robes and I had no entourage. We were just two schoolboys, out for a stroll in the rain.”
“Try to remember her exact words.”
Manasseh sighed. They had been over this story a dozen times. “She told me I would have great power someday and hold many lives in my hand. I would achieve great fame. I don’t remember what else. Then I made her read Joshua’s palm. He fought me, saying he didn’t want his fortune told because it violated the Torah. She took one look at his hand and dropped it like a hot stone, crying, ‘Danger!’ He was a danger to me. She said our lives would go in opposite directions and he would destroy everything I did.”
“Were those her exact words? He would destroy?”
“I don’t know … maybe she said he would try to destroy, I can’t remember. But she said he wasn’t my friend. He was my enemy.”
“Is that everything?”
“I think so … no, wait. She also said that the power belonged to me but that Joshua would be more powerful.” Manasseh thought about that for a moment. “How can that be, Zerah? I remember wondering at the time how that could be true. I’m the king. I’m the royal heir of King David, not Joshua. I wish I had gotten rid of him that day when I still had the chance. I wish he had died from his cursed breathing attack.”
A crowd started to gather, curious to see what business the king had in the Kidron Valley. Zerah glanced around nervously. “Let’s go back.”
Manasseh knew Zerah hated to be seen in public. He usually left the palace only to attend the religious ceremonies at the Temple, and then only at night, when he would be well hidden by the cover of darkness. As they walked up the ramp, Manasseh planted his hand on Zerah’s shoulder. “When are you going to tell me what the omens say about killing Joshua?”
“As soon as I figure out what they mean. They’re unclear, Your Majesty.”
“How can they be unclear? Either my enemy is destroyed or he isn’t. Either I win or he does.”
“The omens promise you the victory, but it will be only a partial one.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I don’t either, Your Majesty.”
The months of planning and waiting had seemed endless to Manasseh, filled with the strain of anxiety. He wanted to defeat Joshua so badly it made him ill at times to think of failing. He knew that he would never feel safe again until his enemy was dead. Manasseh had entreated all the gods, offered countless sacrifices to win their favor, proffered innumerable petitions, sought multitudes of omens. But Zerah hedged, just as he was doing now, whenever Manasseh asked what the omens foretold.
When they reached the palace, General Benjamin was waiting for them in the council chamber. Manasseh would trust only his most experienced commander for this ambush mission, and he had called General Benjamin out of retirement to make certain that their plans were well laid and executed. The imposing general had served under King Hezekiah, taking charge of the defense of Jerusalem in General Jonadab’s place during the Assyrian invasion. In peacetime, Hezekiah and Eliakim had entrusted Benjamin with the task of supervising their sons’ military training.
Now nearing sixty, the general had maintained his powerful physique. Manasseh glanced at Zerah, aware that his administrator was frightened of the general. The king admitted only to himself that he had never fully outgrown his childhood awe of the man. Benjamin bowed low, then stood regarding Manasseh with eyes as cold and gray as stones, his weathered face as inscrutable as it had always been,
revealing neither approval nor criticism of the task he had been assigned.
“Have you worked out all the details?” Manasseh asked him.
“I have everything under control, Your Majesty.”
Manasseh relaxed slightly, knowing that the general was a man of his word. “Tell us the plan.”
“Hadad chose an ideal location for the ambush, Your Majesty. I’ve handpicked the men who will escort your procession, and they are all highly skilled warriors. I am sending one hundred additional men into the area ahead of time, dressed in laborers’ clothes. They will work in fields and vineyards during the day and hide in barns and storehouses at night so your enemies won’t become alert to their presence. The day of the attack, the soldiers will leave their cover and begin to close the circle, completely surrounding the hill. By the time the procession approaches they’ll be in position to cut off all avenues of retreat.”
Manasseh sat forward abruptly. “Only one hundred men? That’s not enough.”
“Hadad assured us he would keep the attack force small.”
“I want your guarantee that Joshua won’t escape, General.”
“He’ll be completely surrounded. The roads will be blocked in every direction. The only way he could escape would be to jump off the cliff, and I assure you, I’ve examined the site and the fall would kill him if he tried it.”
“Twice he has slipped from our grasp. Twice! I want your guarantee that it won’t happen a third time!”
The general bristled slightly, reminding Manasseh of a guard dog with his hackles raised. “Very well, Your Majesty. I will station additional soldiers in each of the nearby towns, dressed in civilian clothes. They can cover every road leading out of the area. Believe me; no one will escape.”
“Except Hadad,” Zerah quickly added. “Remember, he promised to deliver Prince Amariah’s body to us when this is over.”
“Zerah’s right, General. I don’t want Hadad killed because someone screws up. Tell your men to watch for him. He’ll be the only one who is clean-shaven. He looks Egyptian.”
“I know what Hadad looks like,” Benjamin said stiffly. “I trained Lord Shebna’s grandson, just as I trained you and Joshua ben Eliakim.”
“Have you chosen someone to act as my decoy, General?”
“I’ll be inside the sedan chair myself, Your Majesty, dressed in your robes.”
Manasseh pounded his fist on the arm of his chair and cursed. “I wish I could be there! I’d like to see Joshua’s face when he realizes that I’ve defeated him!”
There was an immediate flurry of concern among Manasseh’s bodyguards. “No, Your Majesty! It’s much too dangerous! Anything could go wrong!”
Zerah rested his hand on Manasseh’s. “If only the omens were clearer, my lord, but they’re not.”
“I know, I know,” Manasseh sighed, shaking him off. “I’m just wishing, that’s all. But if you can capture him alive, General, you’ll be generously rewarded. I want to watch him die at my feet, begging for mercy.”
Joshua stood on the ship’s swaying deck, watching as the city of On came into view on the distant shore. It looked much like all the other Egyptian cities they’d passed—tightly clustered mud-brick homes, interspersed with palm trees and permeated with the stench of mildew and rotting fish. All of Egypt smelled the same to Joshua, and he could barely wait to inhale the clean mountain air of Jerusalem once again. The first leg of their long journey—the ten-day trip up the Nile to the delta—was almost over, his goal that much closer.
The day when their training had come to an end and they’d left Elephantine Island for this mission arrived too soon for Joshua. He had watched as Hadad drilled the men every day and had even joined with them to hone his own skills with bow and sword and spear, but none of the men seemed ready. His archers still weren’t accurate enough at great distances. The swordsmen’s reflexes were disappointingly slow. All of his volunteers were too green, their skills untried in real combat. He knew they needed more time, another month at least, before they’d be ready to face Manasseh’s skilled soldiers, but they had run out of time. Their final squadron consisted of thirty-two men. Joshua wished for twice that number.
A spontaneous cheer went up from everyone on board when the ship docked in the city of On at last. The journey had been exhausting, the men unused to boat travel and the Nile rough sailing in flood stage. Joshua worried constantly about Dinah, who had been violently ill throughout the journey. He suspected that she was pregnant as well as seasick, but he was afraid to ask for fear of igniting Prince Amariah’s anger. Joshua didn’t know what they would have done without Miriam to take care of her.
He was as grateful as everyone else seemed to be to stand on dry land again. Hadad’s soldiers milled nervously around the docks as the workers carefully unloaded bales of Jerimoth’s cloth. All their weapons had been cleverly hidden inside the bolts of Egyptian cotton. But as Joshua stood watching beside his brother, he couldn’t help worrying about the next stage of their journey. “Are you sure two days is enough time to hire a caravan and drivers?” he asked.
“How many times are you going to ask me that question?” Jerimoth answered irritably. “I’ve already told you it’s a routine matter for me to hire animals and drivers.”
Joshua knew that his brother’s uncharacteristic anger was a symptom of his fear. He regretted involving him in such a dangerous plot, but he knew of no better way to smuggle men and weapons into the country.
“Listen, Jerimoth, everything depends on perfect timing. My men have to be in position before Manasseh’s procession reaches the pass or else—”
Jerimoth’s gaze was scorching. “Go see to your men and leave me alone to do my job.”
A day and a half later, Jerimoth had loaded the caravan and was ready to leave as he’d promised. But the overland route north soon proved more exhausting than the river journey. Joshua didn’t dare slow their pace even though the heat of full summer quickly drained their energy as well as their water supplies. They traveled together as far as Ashdod in Philistine territory, then split into three smaller caravans to cross the border into Judah using three different roads. Joshua didn’t want to arouse suspicion by arriving in a large caravan.
“Remember,” Joshua told his men before they separated, “if anything goes wrong, make your way to the village of Nahshon, two miles west of the ambush site. Jerimoth has hired a caravan of Ishmaelite spice traders for the return trip. Look for them.”
Hadad and twenty of the men departed first to cross into Judah. They would deliver their load to Timnah, then make their way to the ambush site after dark to prepare the roadblock and dig entrenchments. Prince Amariah and the two women left in the second caravan to deliver their goods to Aijalon. Joshua had insisted that two soldiers accompany them to stand guard at the cave where they would hide. Once he’d killed King Manasseh, Joshua would send for the prince. His own caravan departed last to deliver the final load of Jerimoth’s cloth to Beth Shemesh. Joshua would command their ten best archers from positions on top of the ridge overlooking the ambush site.
Crossing into Judah proved easy, but the sight of so many roadside shrines and high places shocked Joshua. He vowed that as soon as God granted them victory, the purification of his homeland would begin. The closer he got to the ambush site, the quieter the countryside seemed, the roads strangely deserted. He wondered why all the workers in the fields and vineyards appeared to be milling about, doing little work. Was it the heat?
When they arrived in Beth Shemesh the city was unusually crowded. All these men had probably come to watch Manasseh’s dedication ceremony tomorrow. Joshua delivered his shipment of cloth to the marketplace without incident, then removed the weapons from their hiding places to wait until dark.
Late that night, Joshua and his men finally arrived at the ambush site. Hadad and his men were already there, working hard to create a natural-looking rockslide to block the road. They had already dug trenches along the road, covered with brush, to
hide the men from view.
Joshua led his men up a narrow footpath to the crest of the ridge and worked by starlight to build earthworks. These would provide protective cover for his archers, while affording a clear shot of the procession. The men finished well before dawn.
“You may as well get a few hours of sleep,” he told them. “I’m going to confer with Hadad one last time.” He stumbled down the path in the dark, wondering if Prince Amariah and Dinah had made it safely to the cave.
Hadad’s men had finished the roadblock and were also catching a few hours of sleep. “Where’s Colonel Hadad?” Joshua asked the lone soldier standing watch. The guard led him to the trench Hadad had dug. It was empty.
“He was here a minute ago,” the guard said. “He can’t be far.”
Joshua waited nearly half an hour, pacing restlessly in the deserted road, but Hadad never returned. “I need to get back up the hill,” Joshua told the guard at last. “Tell Hadad I was just checking to see if everything is ready.” Even in the darkness, Joshua could read the excitement in the young soldier’s eyes.
“I assure you, my lord. We’re prepared for battle.”
But are you prepared to die? Joshua wanted to ask. “Be careful,” he said instead. “And may God be with you.”
9
LONG AFTER DINAH AND AMARIAH had fallen asleep, Miriam lay awake in the darkness, tossing restlessly, wondering if the long night would ever end. The low-ceilinged cave was cold and damp, and it reeked of rotting vegetation and wild animals. The chill seemed to penetrate her heart. Tomorrow the battle would take place, tomorrow Joshua would assassinate King Manasseh—and fear for Joshua’s safety lay in Miriam’s stomach like a bitter tonic, preventing sleep. When they had parted ways in Philistine territory, she had wondered if she would ever see him again.
A rustling sound near the cave entrance startled her, and Miriam rolled over, straining to see in the darkness. Someone was rousing the sleeping guard; the last watch of the night must have begun. She lay listening to the murmur of voices outside the cave, waiting for the second guard to take his turn sleeping, but when she looked again she saw three figures silhouetted in the doorway. Was one of them Joshua? Miriam tossed the covers aside to hurry outside, wrapping her robe around her shoulders. The two soldiers were talking to Hadad.