Judgment: Wrath of the Lamb

by Brian Godawa

  The square of soldiers immediately broke up into their smaller units for swift travel and jogged out of the city down into the valley after their prey.

  As they descended the city hill, Quintus saw the defenders fleeing further down on the valley floor into a nearby wadi, a dry riverbed that emptied out into the valley. There were several hundred of them scurrying like scared rodents to get away.

  Quintus knew they were mostly farmers and simple people. They wouldn’t last ten minutes before the Roman line. But their surprise tactics in the city made him pause. Someone with real military strategy was leading them. And these simple men had killed almost a hundred of his legionaries with their dirty tricks. They had been preparing for this. How did they know?

  He would have to be more careful.

  By the time the legionaries got down into the valley, the Pellans had a good fifteen-minute lead. Unlike their quarry, the Romans did not know the terrain. And because of their weighty armaments, legionaries could not travel as swiftly as these light-armored Jews. It might take an hour or so to catch up with them. But the Romans had endurance. They would eventually catch the Christians, and when they did, there would be hell to pay.

  The Romans entered the wadi after the Christians and jogged up the dry riverbed.

  The gods of Canaan followed their human counterparts from a distance. Michael would be guarding the Christians, so Ba’al and his comrades would eventually face him. There was no need to rush ahead. They could be running into a trap. Let the humans hit it first.

  Unfortunately, the trap was not before the gods, but behind them. Uriel, Gabriel, and Raphael exploded from the brush and launched at the gods as they passed by. Uriel hit Ba’al’s legs, and they rolled into the dirt. Gabriel took down Asherah and Molech. Raphael landed on Dagon’s back, dragging him to the ground.

  At that moment an earthquake shook the land around them. The Roman soldiers were brought to the ground at the power of the quake.

  Then a chasm opened up in the earth not far into the wadi from the valley, separating the gods from the Romans ahead of them. It looked like a huge gash in the ground across the width of the wadi and twenty feet wide.

  In the fortress, many Pellans steadied themselves during the quake. Some fell to the ground from the force. Pieces of rock fell dangerously rom the weakened walls, but thankfully, no one was hit by them. God was watching over them.

  Cassandra leaned out over the battlement, cautiously balancing herself and little Samuel, who was resting in a sling around her hip. At her side, Noah reached to steady her, keeping careful watch over his two charges. Rachel watched from further along the parapet.

  The Hasmonean fort was not manned by soldiers but housed the other half of the civilian residents not hiding out in the caves. Cassandra was among many who were watching the chase from their distant perch above the valley.

  Noah and dozens of other boys not quite ready to join the battle had been given the task of protecting the families in the fort. Noah pulled Cassandra back away from the battlement wall. “Mother, don’t stand too close to the wall’s edge. You could be a target.”

  Cassandra smiled and stepped back. “Thank you, son.” She was so proud of her little man. He was taking his new responsibility with more maturity than she had given him credit for. The fort was truly their last line of defense, and it gave Noah and the other eager lads a chance to be the men they were aspiring to be, though the chances of castle battle were not likely unless the Pellan warriors failed in their strategy. And if they did, then it would be all over for everyone anyway. They had gambled everything on their strategy.

  Cassandra looked back out onto the plain. She heard Rachel call over to her, “Mother, do you see Jonathan?”

  Cassandra shook her head no. She didn’t want to feed hope or fear in Rachel.

  Cassandra had been gifted by God with the special ability of a seer or a “sensitive.” She could see into the realm of the spirit. While the other Pellan refugees saw the Romans chasing their husbands, brothers, and sons through the wadi, she alone saw the battle of gods that was occurring at the crevice in the valley. She turned back and yelled to those waiting anxiously down below the parapets, “Pray! We must pray for Yahweh’s victory over the forces of darkness!”

  Many were already on their knees. The rest joined them. When Cassandra bowed her head, she saw Samuel’s little eyes looking up at her with a strange sense of calm. They had just experienced a massive earthquake, and he wasn’t even crying. It was as if this little infant trusted Yahweh. Like he knew who was in control.

  Had he been gifted as a seer like Cassandra? She drew strength from the moment and prayed with all her soul.

  CHAPTER 18

  Ba’al drew a battle mace and faced off against Uriel near the gaping crevice in the valley of Pella. He laughed. “So Yahweh sends the smallest twit of an angel against the mighty storm god?” Roaring, he flexed his bulging muscles at Uriel.

  The angel smoothly drew both swords from their sheathes on his back and got into a defensive posture. “Don’t forget, gas bag, you’re also the god of broccoli.”

  Ba’al blew up with rage at the comment and swung his mace at Uriel, who dodged it with ease. The verbal insult was a reference to Ba’al being the god of vegetation as well as storm. The brute had always had a short temper and a lack of humor, so stabbing at his pride was the easiest strategy for Uriel to get him off balance.

  But then Uriel was thrown off balance when Molech attacked him from behind with a flaming torch. The archangel felt the heat and spun around, his swords blocking the torch’s thrust. His blond hair was singed from the close call.

  Molech was a despicable deity with his reputation as a lover of child sacrifice. He spent much of his time in the underworld, so his skin was pasty and wrinkly. He looked a bit like a mole to Uriel, which could distract from the monster’s treacherous skills. And Molech was driven by revenge against Uriel for what he had done during the days of Messiah in the valley of Hinnom.66 This was going to be much more difficult than Uriel had anticipated.

  “What’s the matter, angel?” Molech demanded. “I don’t see you joking anymore.”

  Gabriel faced off against the huge battle maiden Asherah, the Canaanite Queen of Heaven. Gabriel unfurled Rahab and lashed at the goddess. But she was very good with a shield and sword herself and blocked each attack of the long, flexible heavenly blade.

  Gabriel saw Dagon approaching him with his trident, and he realized that the archangels had underestimated the numbers they would need to take these divinities out.

  During the earthquake, Raphael had lost his footing and Dagon was able to skewer him with his heavenly trident. Its three prongs were more than a spear. Much like Poseidon’s weapon, Dagon’s trident could incapacitate an angel with an occult power that was like poison. Raphael had been pierced and pushed into the crevice. He hung from a ledge. Beneath him, the chasm led deep down into the Abyss.

  Though angels and Watchers were immortal, they were still created beings. They had heavenly flesh that had supernatural properties, but it was still flesh and as such could suffer pain and desecration at the hands of other divine beings. Raphael was now trapped in the very pit where they were trying to bury the gods, hanging on for his life.

  Gabriel could not fret for Raphael. He had to win this battle that now pitted him and Uriel against the four strongest gods of Canaan.

  But as far as Gabriel was concerned, there was no better angel to be paired with than his little spiritual brother Uriel. Sure, they bickered like family siblings, but in battle when the odds turned against them, they acted like the family they were. They had each other’s back.

  And the odds had just turned against them.

  • • • • •

  Quintus and his soldiers had followed their Christian prey a good half-hour through the wadi. They were now in a high-walled ravine with nowhere for the Christians to flee but forward. Miles ahead in the distance, Quintus saw a dark-clouded rainstorm conti
nuing to advance their way. But they still had time. And the Romans were now within striking distance of their enemy.

  Quintus saw the Christians faltering not far ahead now and was about to bark orders to his men. But he had failed to look above them on the ravine ledges.

  Suddenly, a wave of arrows came down upon the Romans from hidden bowmen above. A trap.

  A dozen soldiers were hit. But the legionaries were experienced. Almost immediately, they raised their full-body shields in protection and gathered again into testudo formation.

  Quintus’s horse was struck by several arrows and went down. Quintus rolled to safety behind his footmen. The moment of confusion halted the Romans.

  The Christians ahead of them had also turned, launching a volley of darts as well. The legionaries were being attacked on three sides.

  Quintus noticed an officer standing in front of the enemy that had turned upon them. He was well-built with black wavy hair and handsome features. He wore strange armor Quintus had never seen before—and Quintus had been all over the world with the military.

  Whoever this creature was who helped these pathetic Christians with their devious tricks, Quintus would reserve the worst fate for him.

  The commander yelled, “Return fire!” The Romans released their own missiles until the ambushers above them shrank away.

  “Forward!” Quintus yelled again, and the legionaries jogged with shields in protective positions.

  The Christians had been more clever than Quintus had been willing to grant them. He had lost a few more men, and they had lost some gained ground, but he refused to slow down. It was only a matter of minutes before these pesky rodents were caught and exterminated.

  • • • • •

  At the crevice, Uriel swung his two swords, one in each hand, with a smooth water-like fluidity. He blocked Ba’al’s mace and Molech’s torch with each attack. But Ba’al’s strength was mighty. Uriel had to shift his position and change arms of defense because Ba’al’s hits would jar Uriel’s arm to the bone, weakening his strength with each blow. He would not be able to keep this up much longer. He would have to take down one of these monsters soon or he would break under the sheer stress of Ba’al’s force.

  Gabriel swung Rahab wide, its ten-foot arc keeping Asherah and Dagon at bay. It snapped off Asherah’s shield, cutting clean through the defensive armament and splitting it in half. Rahab had a nasty bite. Stumbling backward, Asherah almost slipped into the crevice behind her. But Dagon was there in a flash, jerking her back from the precipice.

  Gabriel glanced over and saw an opportunity to help Uriel. Ba’al’s back was to Gabriel, so the angel snapped his blade toward the behemoth and caught his left arm, slicing through the massive muscles. The storm god roared in pain, his left arm now rendered useless.

  Uriel took that moment to focus on Molech. He used his swords in rapid sweeps to disarm the deity and knock him senseless to the ground. Drawing some Cherubim hair from a pouch on his belt, Uriel wrapped it around the Watcher’s hands and neck. Cherubim hair was the only cord that the Watchers could not break. So it was the binding of choice used by the archangels.67 Uriel pulled Molech up and gave him a hard, swift kick to the butt, launching the god into the crevice that led down to the Abyss. His pathetic scream was empowering to the archangels.

  Gabriel spun back around toward Asherah and Dagon and cracked his whip sword at them.

  But Dagon was ready. He raised his trident and used it as a pole to block the sword, causing the blade to wrap around it. Dagon then jerked the trident back, pulling Gabriel off his feet and slinging him behind the Philistine monster—down into the crevice.

  Gabriel held on to the sword handle with both hands and hit the rock wall inside the chasm.

  He dangled over the precipice at the mercy of Dagon’s hold. Below him, the darkness of the Abyss clawed at his feet.

  But he knew Dagon would never release his trident and lose it in order to defeat the angel.

  Giving up his plan, the Watcher pulled Gabriel up and out of the crevice. This time he arced the angel high and slammed him to the ground. Gabriel was knocked dizzy for just a second.

  Enough time for Asherah to rush him.

  • • • • •

  Quintus and his soldiers had repelled the attack of arrows from above. They pushed forward, shields up. He wanted to grab these tricksters by the throat and strangle them one on one.

  Then he heard a horn blow from the Christian position and suddenly realized that the arrow attack was only a distraction. A sound of rumbling overhead drew his attention upward. On both sides of the ravine, a pile of boulders had been released with a manmade break.

  An avalanche of rock now fell upon the legionaries, threatening to crush them from two sides. Quintus screamed, “Retreat!”

  Everyone but the front line was able to pull back out of the way.

  Rocks of all sizes pummeled the men, who tried to dodge them or block the barrage with their shields. Quintus saw his advance guard engulfed in a landslide of stone.

  When the cloud of dust had settled, he discovered that twenty of his soldiers had been crushed to death.

  The trick had only served to make Quintus more angry.

  These Christians had used dirty tactics to kill or wound close to two hundred of his men. Who was leading them with such skill? It was embarrassing. And it meant he would no longer show mercy. He would no longer put them swiftly to the sword. He was going to take his time, torture each and every one of them, crucifying them all for the trouble they had caused. And he would crucify all their women and children as well.

  Let them and all their families rot in the sun facing each other. Let the birds of prey gouge out their eyes and pick at their dying flesh.

  Quintus regrouped his six hundred soldiers. They climbed over the dam of rock and began to jog in formation toward their imminent victims.

  He would fall prey to no more tricks.

  • • • • •

  Back at the crevice, Gabriel had barely shaken off his dizziness from being slung onto the ground by Dagon. He looked up to see Asherah running at him full force, screaming a war cry with her sword held high, ready to cleave Gabriel in two.

  Then a sword came flying out of nowhere and hit the goddess in the ribs, making her tumble into the dirt. As she landed at Gabriel’s feet, he saw Uriel with one sword, now facing off against Ba’al.

  “You’re welcome!” the blond angel yelled out. He grabbed his other sword with both hands, holding off Ba’al’s pounding mace with even less protection than before. Ba’al’s left arm had been cut, but he was right-handed and swung with angry vengeance.

  Gabriel withdrew the sword from Asherah and pulled out some binding from his pouch to hogtie the wench goddess.

  When he had finished, he looked up to see Uriel fall to the ground under Ba’al’s mighty swing.

  But the monster didn’t finish off the angel. Instead he whistled to Dagon, who was about to attack Gabriel. The two of them then turned completely around and sprinted toward the crevice.

  Their divine muscles pounded the ground, and they launched into mid-air, just barely making it to the other side of the twenty-foot divide. They rolled in the dirt, got up, and bolted off into the wadi after the Roman legions.

  They were going to empower the Romans to kill the Christians.

  Gabriel dragged the squirming Asherah over to the crevice. He called out, “No need to chase them down. They’ll be coming back. Whether they want to or not.”

  He looked down at the goddess, muttered, “Enjoy your prison, tramp,” and threw Asherah into the pit.

  He walked over to the exhausted Uriel.

  He handed him his sword. “This does make us even—so far. One for one.”

  Uriel stood, brushing himself off and taking the sword. “If it weren’t for my sword stopping Asherah…”

  Gabriel interrupted him, “If it weren’t for my slicing Ba’al’s arm…”

  The blond angel nodded with a s
hrug. “Fair enough. We’re even. Now let’s get ready for these two sons of Belial.”

  • • • • •

  In the wadi, Thelonius followed Michael as he led the several hundred Pellans as fast as he could through the ravine. The walls were highest and steepest here.

  That avalanche was their last stratagem. They had no more left. They had killed almost two hundred legionaries with Michael’s superior military leadership. But it wasn’t enough. Hundreds more Romans kept coming, and they were almost upon them. Thelonius didn’t see how they would get out of this.

  Thelonius jogged close to Michael and was about to address him when Michael stopped the Pellan men with his hand in the air. He turned to face them. They were sweating heavily and exhausted from running. Some of them knelt on the ground, they were so tired. Most of them looked like they wouldn’t be able to run any longer.

  “What will we do, commander, fight?” Thelonius asked Michael.

  Someone else shouted out from the crowd, “We can’t win!”

  “Have we not trained you?” Michael demanded.

  “We did well in the city,” Thelonius responded. “But we’re still no match for them in open combat. Even with the Kharabu at our side.” The thirty Kharabu warriors surrounded Michael along with three of his captains— Saraqel, Raguel, and Remiel.

  Thelonius saw a lack of fear in the looks of the Kharabu.

  Then Michael told them. “You have fought bravely, men of Pella. And you are correct. We cannot win this battle. You have been brought to the end of yourselves. Now you have no one to rely upon but the Lord.”

  Another shouted, “They are almost upon us! Around the bend!”

  Michael pointed to the rock walls, where Thelonius saw ropes dangling from small cave openings all around them. “Then you had better climb quickly and get inside the caves.”

  “But we’ll be trapped!” Thelonius exclaimed.

  “No,” said Michael. “You will be delivered by the hand of the Lord.”