by Dawn Morris
“So, we will be safe from the creatures? What if not everyone is a believer?” I wanted to have hope in this place of safety, but I was still scared. Asher glanced over at me before turning his eyes back on the road.
“We’ll be safe. It’s complicated. The way I understand it is that we’re like ancient Israel when God delivered them from slavery in Egypt. God protected the Israelites supernaturally, even though they weren’t all believers yet.”
“So, He knew we would believe and protected us all along?” That made sense to me. Even if a baby doesn’t know its father, a good father knows his child and would do everything to protect the baby.
“There it is!” Asher gestured ahead to where other vans were parked or in the process of parking.
“Everyone, get up!” he ordered, “We’re almost there.”
I turned back to smile at Jannik, who was on the bench seat directly behind us, stretching and yawning. “Did you know you drool when you sleep?” I teased, chuckling as he quickly wiped his mouth. Noam pulled his dark black glasses off, wiped them with his shirt, and glared at me. His expression unnerved me, and I turned back around in my seat. As we pulled into a parking lot, I mentally reviewed my interactions with Noam. It was a short list, and I had no clue what caused his negative response toward me.
Asher directed the van into a parking lot, and we got out. I glanced back down the road and was astonished by the billows of dust thrown up into the air by dozens and dozens of vehicles making their way toward us.
“There will be more.” Tamas came up to me and greeted me, Jannik, and Noam.
“Where are they all coming from?” I asked him.
“Jerusalem. Last night they moved a statue of President Bellomo into the Temple. Tomorrow is the day that false prophet, Angelo Cain, will declare him the Promised One in the Holy of Holies. Many Jews and believers are heeding the warnings of the Witnesses and fleeing the city. My brothers are busy throughout the world, but especially here in Israel. The remnant will be saved, but there is much to do.”
Tamas smiled reassuringly and told us he would see us later before he moved on to welcome other people who had just arrived.
“Follow me,” Asher boomed. He turned and began walking to the hillside across from us. Noam jogged to catch up with him, but Jannik fell in step next to me.
“Have you been here before?” I asked, looking up at him.
“Yes, but I was a young child. I . . . ” His voice trailed off and he stopped walking, so I stopped, too.
We stood there staring at each other, other people streaming around us to an opening in the canyon wall just ahead.
“Is everything okay?” I whispered. His eyes darkened as he bent his head toward me and gently kissed my lips. It was a brief kiss, sweet and full of promise. Without a word, Jannik took my hand in his, and we moved toward the opening to the canyon.
As we walked into the gorge, the height of the immense walls on either side of our path amazed me, stretching hundreds of feet upward. There were people waiting on either side of the path with bottles of water, which we eagerly accepted. Donkeys and horses waited, as well—some saddled, others tethered to small carts. Their handlers approached the young and elderly with offers to ride into the city. Apparently, it was a long walk.
I pulled Jannik’s hand and moved over to the side so I could slide my free hand along the rocky surface of the wall. My hand brushed the rough surface.
The variations of colors in the canyon walls were stunning. At one point, the rocky walls met together over the path, forming an incredible archway. As we rounded the last curve, we had a glimpse of an incredible building carved out of the rosy red rock.
“Oh!” I gasped as we moved into a large open area filled with people. I turned my head up to view the vast masterpiece in front of us and observed a long line of people winding its way into the edifice. We were told to wait in line to receive housing and a work assignment.
“This is an ancient city, long empty except for a Bedouin tribe that once lived in its cave homes,” said Jannik as we got in line. Over the years, archaeologists have uncovered the city. “I’ve been told we can house millions of people here.”
“Millions?” Noam asked. “But we’re in the desert. What about water?”
Asher laughed. “Do you think the Almighty is able to snatch you away from the evil one’s grasp only to let you die of thirst in the place He’s prepared for you, Noam! There is a vast system of cisterns and dams the Jordanian government thoughtfully renovated for us years ago!”
A sandy-colored kitten rubbed itself around my ankles. “Oh, how precious!” I picked up the purring fur ball and rubbed its small head with my chin. “There are so many animals here!” I exclaimed, as a small herd of goats was driven past us.
It was a long time waiting in the heat. Noam finished his water and threw the bottle on the ground, complaining. He quickly snatched it back again after a tall woman with a gun holstered at her side approached us and instructed him to pick it up and keep it. After giving us a quick lecture on community resources and responsibilities, she moved on to address some rowdy kids standing in line ahead of us.
“Good going, Noam!” Jannik joked. “Now, we’re marked as trouble-makers.” They insulted one another good naturedly as the line moved. Well, Jannik was good-natured, anyway. At this point, I wasn’t so sure about Noam.
Finally, we entered the dark recesses of the building I’d seen carved into the red rock. The first thing I felt was relief, as it was much cooler than outside in the sunlight. Although the ceiling was high, the room wasn’t very large. People stood along the walls waiting to approach a bank of tables on one end of the room. There were four people seated, tablets in hand, taking information and giving assignments to the newcomers. Above them was a handwritten sign in Hebrew. Jannik read it out loud, translating it into English for me. “Welcome to Petra. You will be given a place to stay and assignments for work details. There will be an orientation meeting tonight after the evening meal.”
Once we were inside the building, it was only a short wait until we were given our housing and work assignments. After I received my slip of paper, a young woman came forward and greeted me. “Hello! I’m Zivah. If you will come with me, I’ll show you where you will sleep.”
I was reluctant to leave Jannik, but Zivah assured me that we would see each other at dinner. “We know it is difficult to come to a place where everything is unknown. We keep families and friends in the same area. Your friends’ home assignment is close to yours.”
Jannik and Noam were asked to wait for their advisor to return from helping someone else, so I said goodbye and followed Zivah out into the sunlight.
FLOOD
Chapter 28
There are three things that are too amazing for me, four that I do not understand: the way of an eagle in the sky, the way of a snake on a rock, the way of a ship on the high seas, and the way of a man with a young woman.
Proverbs 30: 18–19
Everyone in the great hall stood in respect as Nimrod and Semiramis entered. When the queen came into view, there was a great gasp from the assembled crowd. Semiramis was stunningly dressed in an elaborate golden headdress, her silken black hair wound about in great loops. She glided across the room barefoot. A great gold and blue collar hung about her neck and shoulders and her breasts were bare.
Nimrod was no less splendid in his golden crown and silken, deepred robes painted with gold palm trees. Regally, they moved through the crowds and took their seat on the royal dais. Semiramis caught my eye and looked at me disdainfully.
The banquet was unlike anything I had ever seen. Elaborate platters of wild boar, shellfish, roasted pheasants, fruits, and vegetables were brought out, followed by elaborate confections for dessert. Vast amounts of wine and beer sat ready on tables along the walls to be delivered to guests by waiting slaves.
The feast was held in honor of the dragon-snake god, Marduk, who was worshiped by Semiramis. Directly opposite from
the royal dais, on the other side of the great room, stood a great golden altar, where a deep alcove housed a solid gold image of the dragon-snake himself. Before each course, priests poured out wine as an offering before Marduk.
The high priest, Akkadab, officiated the banquet. A strong, well-built man, Akkadab had once been a mighty warrior in Nimrod’s army but had suffered a fatal wound in battle.
“It was said that Semiramis herself tended to his needs and miraculously raised him from the dead,” whispered Amalthai.
I looked over at Semiramis. “There are only two sources of power that could raise the dead.”
“Yes, she is so powerful! Some say she is actually one of the gods. Only a god could heal a fatal wound and raise the dead. After Akkadab recovered, he devoted himself to serving the dragon-snake god she worshipped.”
As the feast came to an end, Semiramis stood up and, to my surprise, addressed me in front of the guests. “Tonight is a special occasion, Mother,” Semiramis spoke. “You have finally agreed to join us! We rejoice in your presence!” She held up her wine goblet, and everyone in the room stood.
“To Ariana,” she intoned.
“To Ariana,” they responded.
“This is the day we celebrate the beginning of a new year. After we feast, we offer a special sacrifice to Marduk.”
She nodded toward the entrance to the great hall, where I saw four of Semiramis’ priests carrying a lamb strapped to a pole. Akkadab, the high priest, tore the poor creature apart without killing it first; the screams of the animal were drowned out by the rapturous shouts of the guests. When he finished, the high priest cut a bloody chunk of flesh and offered it to the idol in a great show of piety before eating it himself.
The crowd became silent at the blasting sound of trumpets. Akkadab held up a bloody hand, and proclaimed, “. . . in the same manner, the god Marduk slew his great enemy long ago, before the so-called Flood.” Marking himself on the forehead with blood, Akkadab began chanting and the crowd joined in with him.
I turned to look at the royal pair and was stunned to see, standing just behind their golden chairs in the shadows, the winged creature I had met in the forest long ago. Fear struck my heart. Once again, I watched as he took the form of the Magistrate, his black eyes staring back at me and smirking victoriously.
Once more, the crowd erupted in cheers, this time rising to their feet and raising their hands in salute. The commotion afforded me the opportunity to hide myself among the throng and slip out, hopefully unnoticed. No one stopped or followed me, but I was sure I heard Semiramis laugh as I left the room.
Not long after the feast, Terah came to visit me. I was sitting in the garden under the fig tree when Amalthai led him out.
“Mother, Terah has come to visit with you!”
Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyelashes fluttered as she directed Terah to the chair next to mine in the shade, promising to return with some cool wine. I watched Terah’s response with interest.
“She’s very beautiful, isn’t she?” I commented.
Terah turned his eyes back to me. “Yes, she is. I’d like to get to know her better.”
Amalthai returned with the wine, a smile on her face. As she poured a glass for each of us, she glanced quickly at Terah and then away when he tried to catch her gaze in his.
“Amalthai, I hope that you will excuse me.” I stood up. “I think I’ll go in and lie down for a while. The heat is tiring. Why don’t you sit and keep our guest company?” I made my way into my rooms, smiling to myself.
From that day on, Terah became a regular visitor. With her father’s permission, they married a few months later. The wedding was a joyous occasion. Thankfully, the king and queen were not in attendance. They were in the city of Nippur dedicating a new temple to their god, Marduk. I certainly did not miss them, and it didn’t seem anyone else did. Terah and Amalthai’s happiness was contagious, and the feasting and dancing lasted for many hours.
Amalthai’s family, like most in Babylon, worshipped Marduk. At the end of the ceremony, Terah and Amalthai kneeled before Akkadab, the priest, as he spoke incantations over them and recounted Marduk’s history.
Although I had been a prisoner in Babylon for quite a while, that was the first time I had heard the twisted history of the idol. Indignation rose in my heart as Akkadab spoke of an evil one who tried to destroy Marduk and the other gods with a flood. In a deep voice, he uttered this treachery, making the Creator the evil one in his tale. I tried to cry out against the lies, but I couldn’t speak. I was being restrained in some way, and I didn’t know how to fight against it. To my horror, I watched Terah and Amalthai vow their loyalty to Marduk. Akkadab pulled a knife from the belt on his waist and made a small cut on each of their wrists. Placing their bloody wrists together, he bound them with a strip of white cloth.
Under the auspices of Akkadab, Terah quickly grew in influence in Nimrod’s court, eventually becoming the king’s chief advisor. Whenever Nimrod would go out to war, Terah would go with him. Every battle was victorious, and Nimrod’s fame grew great. Whether by chance or design, stories spread about Nimrod and Semiramis and the great dragon-snake god who brought them victory.
A few years passed and Amalthai failed to become pregnant. This became a bitter burden for her. I tried to pray with her, but she insisted that only Marduk could help her, so I prayed for her alone and watched with sadness as she tried remedy after remedy the priests gave her.
When Nimrod returned from war against Calneh, one of the many kings in the land of Shinar, he held a great feast to celebrate his victory. Everyone at court was required to attend, so I went. As one of the Mothers, I was given a place of honor at the king’s table. Nimrod and Semiramis used my presence to validate their false religion. All sorts of rumors were spread that I came to court because I recognized Nimrod and Semiramis as the faithful servants of Marduk. No one seemed to remember the truth, that I was a captive of the wicked man who murdered my husband. Truth was a rare commodity in Babylon.
I sat at the table next to Terah and Amalthai. As we waited for the royal couple to make their appearance, Terah shared some troubling news.
“While we were fighting against Calneh’s army, there was a great blazing light that soared over us one night as the armies rested from battle. Nimrod was troubled and sent for his wise men and soothsayers.”
“Because of a falling star?” I asked wryly.
“Mother.” Terah looked around to make sure no one else heard me. “Please only share your opinions when we’re in private. The king takes this seriously. They told him it was an ominous sign.”
“What did it mean?” Amalthai asked.
“The astrologers told the king that there would be a child born who would outshine his glory and take the place of preeminence in the land. So Nimrod ordered every male baby born to be sacrificed to Marduk.”
I noticed Amalthai grow pale but had no chance to ask if she was well because the trumpets sounded at that moment. Nimrod and Semiramis entered the banqueting hall to shouts of acclamation and praise. With shock, I saw that the queen was quite far along in pregnancy. She had not been seen in public for months, keeping to her chambers—due, it was said, to ill health. I glanced at Terah and Amalthai, but they did not seem surprised.
Terah had been with Nimrod for the last year fighting for the cities of Accad and Calneh.
“You and Nimrod just returned two months ago. This is shameful!”
“No, it is a miracle, Mother! Do you recall the prophecy spoken to the First Ones when they were cast out of the Garden? This is the promised son!” Terah’s eyes shone with joy as he spoke.
Shaking my head in dismay, I turned back to watch the spectacle before me. Men and women were on their knees, weeping and shouting praise to the two heading toward the dais. With a shock, I realized that Nimrod and Semiramis were wearing the garments I had seen long ago in the ark—the garments Ham had tried to take, the garments made by the Creator for the First Ones. Semiramis h
ad cut the center out of her garment, her stomach proudly put on display.
“Where did they get those skins?” I demanded of Terah.
“Mother, of course you must remember that they were given to Ham,” he replied.
“That is a lie!” I retorted, sick of the distortion of history. “Ham stole them. Those two are not emissaries of the gods; they are vessels for the evil one to manipulate and use. There is no miracle pregnancy, but an immoral woman who has committed adultery!
“How can you not see the truth?” I implored both Terah and Amalthai to see the truth, but they only shook their heads, looking around fearfully to see if anyone heard my outburst. Before I could say another word, guards grabbed me by the arms, dragged me out of the feasting chamber, and took me to my room.
Almost seven long months passed before I saw Terah or Amalthai again. Although I was treated well, I was kept a prisoner in my room. A slave who was deaf and dumb would bring me food, but I had no company. I was allowed to go out onto a patio outside of my bedroom, where I would sit and look at the gardens below. One morning, as I sat in the shade under a canopy on the patio, I heard footsteps from inside my chambers. I entered my rooms to find Amalthai.
“Mother! I am so sorry, truly, I am! This is the first time I have been allowed to see you!”
We embraced, both of us crying. She had become very dear to me in the years of my captivity. As we hugged, I realized Amalthai was with child. She slipped her cloak off and proudly rubbed her round belly as she informed me her time of confinement was near. I could tell she was troubled, and I asked her why.
She began to weep. Pulling her down to sit next to me on a bench, I pulled a clean cloth from a basket next to the bench and handed it to her. Amalthai shared with me how her heart had been turned against the king and queen and their god, Marduk. Hundreds of infant boys had been sacrificed to the evil god in the Temple over the last months. Amalthai feared the death of her child. Only the infant son born to Semiramis was allowed to live, Tammuz.