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

by Shlomo Kalo

  When Jeremiah arrived at the royal court, the first stars were already gleaming in the blue sky, and it was blessedly cool after the blazing heat of the summer day.

  He found the King among his courtiers, and all were running hither and thither and engaged in frantic activity: leading the few horses that remained out of the stables, saddling them and loading them with gold ornaments and bags crammed with precious stones, changing their gaudy clothes for simple leather jerkins to disguise themselves as farmers or artisans, intent on slipping away from the palace and leaving the city before it was captured.

  Jeremiah surprised them and they stopped their work for a long moment, standing silent and awkward.

  First to recover was the King, and he turned to him and said:

  “If you want to come with us and save yourself from the Chaldeans, I have to tell you we have no spare horse for you, and you can’t share a horse with anyone either, as the horses are tired and there are loads to be carried too, and the Chaldeans will be chasing us…”

  “Listen to the word of the Lord, Zedekiah!” the prophet interrupted him, and he raised his voice and it was clear and bold, a delivery that surprised his hearers, since the man from whose throat it emerged was utterly exhausted, like all the beleaguered inhabitants of the Holy City.

  “Thus says the Lord of Hosts, the God of Israel,” the prophet thundered, “You shall not escape from the hands of the Chaldeans! Your efforts and your hopes are in vain. Before sunrise you will fall into the hands of your enemies, and they will take you before the King of the Chaldeans, my servant, and you shall see him face to face and you will not escape from their hand, and this city shall be burned to the ground!”

  One of the ministers who had just saddled his broken-down horse turned to the King and said:

  “This man deserves to die!” – and drawing his sword he lunged at Jeremiah, but he lost his footing and fell heavily to the ground, injuring his arm on the blade of the sword. Blood flowed from the deep gash. Letting go of the sword the man struggled to his feet, took a faltering pace towards his horse and bound the wound with a piece of cloth taken from his saddlebag, and with a look of terror in his eyes he called out to his companions and to the King:

  “Come on, let’s get out of here before this man brings disaster down on our heads!”

  “And I have this to tell the King,” added Jeremiah, speaking in a totally different tone, faint but clear: “This was the word of the Lord of Hosts, the God of Israel, If you go out now and surrender yourself to the ministers of the King of Babylon, you shall live and this city will not be burned. You and your household will be safe. But if you do not go out and surrender yourself to the ministers of the King of Babylon, this city shall be given into the hands of the Chaldeans and they will burn it down, and you will not escape them. And you – King Zedekiah, who asked to hear the word of the Lord and when it was told to you, did not listen to it and did not follow it, but remained obstinate, and rebelled against the King of Babylon, the servant of the Lord, and fought against him, and fought against the Lord and the living God – see whither your actions have brought you! Perhaps now you will kneel and fall upon your face, and plead for the mercy of the Lord, for He is kind and merciful and long-suffering, not vengeful or a bearer of grudges, and He will hear your prayer and succour you!”

  King Zedekiah mounted his horse, turned to face Jeremiah and said to him:

  “Too late, my prophet! It’s all over! If your God chooses, in his manifold mercies, to save me from the hands of the Chaldeans, He will save me without me asking it of Him and if not – I shall know He is not the God who promised to David his servant that his descendants would sit for ever on his throne! Peace be with you!”

  The riders urged their horses on with whips and reins, and the horses left the rear courtyard of the palace with faltering and reluctant steps, famished as they were and thirsting for water.

  In the eleventh year of the reign of Zedekiah, on the ninth day of the fourth month, the city was breached. And all the ministers and generals of the King of Babylon came and took their seats by the central gate.

  Seeing this, Zedekiah, King of Judah, and all his warriors took flight, escaping by night from the city through the royal gardens and the gate between the two walls, into the wilderness. The army of the Chaldeans set out in pursuit, and overtook Zedekiah in the desert wastes of Jericho.

  King Nebuchadnezzar summoned Or-Nego to him, and when he stood before him asked him:

  “I know that before you left Babylon you visited Belteshazzar, the one who stands in such favour with his God, and his God is always at his side, protecting him from all harm, and when you visited him what was the subject of your conversation, and what did you ask him and what was his answer?”

  Or-Nego bowed before the King, sitting in the middle gate of the conquered city on his ivory throne, and rising he told him:

  “I asked him if he, Belteshazzar, the King’s viceroy and chief magus in all the lands that the King has conquered, had a request that I could fulfil.”

  “What kind of request did you have in mind, Or-Nego?”

  “I meant, Your Majesty, that if it were his wish, I could find out the whereabouts of his family and offer them the King’s protection, keeping them from all harm, and if he so desired – bring them to him in Babylon.”

  “You should know, Or-Nego, that you cannot do such things without asking my permission and obtaining my explicit consent, and if you do not ask my permission and do not obtain my explicit consent, you are defying the King and betraying his trust, and for that the penalty is death!”

  “I know, Your Majesty, that is the case, and I did not mean to take any step, large or small, without bringing it first to the attention of the King, asking his permission and obtaining his consent…”

  “So why have you not done so?” the King interrupted him impatiently, without waiting for the rest of the sentence.

  “My King, live for ever,” Or-Nego bowed low before King Nebuchadnezzar whose anger, it seemed, was growing more intense – “I did not come before my lord the King, or ask his permission and consent, then as now…”

  “You admit then, you had no intention of approaching me and asking for my permission and consent!” the King interrupted him again, and in his stern, penetrating eyes a flame was kindled, a flame that also reflected, strangely, keen interest and a certain curiosity – like the light, perhaps, in the eyes of a predatory beast that has caught his prey and holds him securely, and yet the prey offers spirited resistance, which both surprises and amuses the predator.

  “I did not ask for the King’s consent and did not intend to, because there was no need for it!” Or-Nego concluded.

  “How so?” cried Nebuchadnezzar, unable to conceal his bemusement.

  “Belteshazzar did not ask me to locate his family and relatives, to protect them and bring them to Babylon, and to my question, could I help him in any way, he answered with one short sentence…”

  “Which was?” the King pressed him impatiently.

  “Obey the King’s command!”

  For a brief moment the King remained open-mouthed. The flame in his eyes and the flash of anger faded all at once. If the King were capable of feeling embarrassment or anything akin to shame, at that moment he would have tottered under their weight. And yet the King’s lips softened into a perceptive, and quite unexpected smile. The rough-hewn, bronzed face flushed suddenly like the face of a child who has received a precious gift and does not know how to express his gratitude to the giver.

  “There’s a true man for you!” he declared conclusively, rising from his throne and, perhaps for the first time ever, slapping Or-Nego’s shoulder in a gesture of comradeship and amity. Then he paced this way and that, returned to his throne, and seemed to be thinking deeply. Finally he looked up, and addressed his senior commander:

  “Nevertheless, we must do something for that exalted man of God! Go down to the city, at once, and ask after his family and relatives
and if you find them – give them food to eat and water to drink, and tell them that by my order they are to be taken to Babylon, to be reunited with their beloved son and brother!”

  “As my lord the King commands, so it shall be done!” exclaimed Or-Nego, much relieved. He bowed low once more and hurriedly withdrew from the King’s presence.

  Or-Nego went down to the residential quarters of the city, to the winding alleyways and little squares, the neglected gardens, overgrown with nettles and thistles and brambles, and the dried-up wells, and everywhere he turned he saw only corpses, victims of the great hunger, skeletons wrapped in rags with staring eyes, crying out to the skies. As he walked on he ordered one of his platoons to dig graves and start burying the dead.

  He was desperate to find at least one living person, and his heart sank, surrounded as he was by bodies, sprawled on the ground or leaning against the walls of houses and abandoned orchards. Finally, he found an old man huddled over a bone that a Chaldean soldier had thrown him, gnawing it like a famished dog. He leaned towards him, held out a hunk of bread and a lump of cheese, and when the other snatched them from his hand and gave him a suspicious look, offered him a flask of water. When he saw the flask, life was revived in those sunken eyes, and he took it with shaking, skeletal hands, and drank his fill, then broke off a piece of the bread, stuffed it into his mouth and chewed slowly, with intense concentration, and without saying a word. He seemed quite unaware of Or-Nego’s presence, as even his eyes were totally absorbed in the methodical process of eating.

  This continued for some time, the man eating and Or-Nego watching him and waiting patiently. As he watched he realised this was not an old man after all, but someone much younger than he seemed at first, with hair not yet streaked with grey, and his eyes, as he ate, regaining their youthful gleam. When the meal was finished, and the last crumbs were swept into his mouth, the man looked up at him and said abruptly:

  “If you want to kill me you can do it now – though it’s a mystery to me why you bothered to feed me first!”

  “I have no intention of killing you!” he replied, in what he hoped was a mild and reassuring tone.

  “Why not?” – the man looked puzzled. “Isn’t that what all Chaldeans do – cutting off our heads, we who are powerless to resist, shooting us full of arrows, impaling us with spears and burning our homes!” He pointed to the plume of smoke spiralling up behind his back.

  “Listen to me!” Or-Nego retorted, pronouncing every syllable clearly, “I have no intention of doing you any harm. But I have a question to ask you.”

  “And if I refuse to answer your question – you’ll kill me then?” the Jew challenged him.

  “No!” Or-Nego insisted.

  The other lowered his head and sank deep into his thoughts. And looking up again he said:

  “I don’t know why – but it seems to me you’re not like all the others. Go on then, ask your question!”

  “Among us in Babylon,” Or-Nego began, “there lives a certain distinguished Jew named Daniel, whom the Chaldeans call Belteshazzar.”

  “Aha!” the living skeleton responded instantly, “Who has not heard of this Daniel? Of his outstanding success in the court of the Chaldean King and his appointment as viceroy, like the righteous Joseph who was viceroy to the Pharaoh, the King of Egypt, correct me if I’m mistaken!” The man’s animation seemed completely restored.

  “You’re not mistaken,” Or-Nego assured him, listening intently to his words.

  “Except that he, Daniel, unlike the righteous Joseph, our ancestor,” the Jew continued, a note of bitterness creeping into his voice, “has shown no interest in his brothers and has not served them as Joseph served them! And opinions of him are divided, as there are some who say he has done well and we should be proud of him, others who say he has done ill and we should be ashamed of him. And as for me, I shall not say if I was engaged in this debate, and which side I took! And this because of the sudden weakness that I feel. Your food has indeed revived me, but my stomach is not accustomed to it, and I shall have to go somewhere and lie down to rest. So please, hurry up and ask your question while I’m still capable of answering you!”

  “Do you know anything of the family and relatives of Daniel?” he asked, stooping to hear everything the man said. Once more, the deep-sunk eyes of the living skeleton stared at him with a look of revulsion and suspicion.

  “What are Daniel’s family and relatives to you?” he demanded tetchily, and added as if talking to himself, “I remember now. I didn’t side with him. We all hoped he would persuade his patron, the King of Babylon, not to bring all this affliction and destruction down on our heads, the ruins that you see before you. And our hopes were dashed. There was the prophet Jeremiah too. Oh yes, the prophet Jeremiah! I tell you, he’s the one you should turn to. He can answer your question! My mind is clouding over and I can’t help you, but Jeremiah is still wandering around somewhere. I don’t want any involvement in this and I need to go and rest – if your Chaldean soldiers will let me.” His tongue heavy and his speech slurred, he concluded, “Go in peace – and if you have any more bread, I’ll take it gladly.”

  He handed him all the contents of his knapsack, gave him the flask of water and hurried away to seek out the prophet. Encountering one of his lieutenants he ordered him to inquire and report to him immediately if a Jewish man had been seen walking among the ruins, as he needed to speak to him urgently. He also demanded a fresh supply of bread and water.

  His lieutenant, a sprightly young man, unusually cordial by Chaldean standards, bowed low and answered him:

  “I’ve seen him myself, the prophet Jeremiah, behind that block of buildings, and you can be sure he’s still there, as he’s tending the starving and the King’s orders are that he be given everything he asks for. He’s not the kind of man you could ignore, or fail to be impressed by. As for the bread and water, take mine Sir, if you please!”

  He thanked his lieutenant, took the bread and water from him, and rounding the block of buildings, came out into a square bathed in sunlight and ringed with black smoke. Sprawled there in confusion were the emaciated bodies of men and women, some still alive – others not.

  He saw the prophet tending those who still showed signs of life, giving them milk to drink, and he understood immediately what his lieutenant had said – this was indeed a man who could not be ignored, who could not fail to impress. He looked like a creature not of this world. His eyes stared as if in an empty void and yet – they were deep and something shone in them, something beyond the comprehension of flesh and blood. Or-Nego tried to define to himself what it was that he saw in the prophet’s eyes, and he could not avoid using words like “God” and “God-like” – although he instinctively recoiled from anything smacking of sacrilege. Finally, as he focused all his attention, involuntarily, on those eyes, he felt an easing of the tension in the heart, and the words “God” and “God-like” no longer seemed sacrilegious.

  He approached the man and, making no conscious decision to do so – bowed down and prostrated himself on the ground. When he stood up again, those eyes were fixed on him, penetrating deep into his heart and filling it with a quiet joy that could have been defined as hope. His instinct was to bow to him again, but something stopped him. Perhaps, the will-power of the man who gazed at him steadily, not saying a word.

  “Prophet Jeremiah,” he began in a tremulous voice that surprised him too. “May I ask you a question?”

  “Ask!” the man exclaimed, his voice like the crashing of waves on a rocky shore, reflecting back the light of the sun.

  “Among us, in Babylon,” Or-Nego explained, still nervous and his voice hesitant, “lives a man known as Daniel, a man of God, who drew up from the pit of oblivion the dream that our King dreamed and interpreted it by the grace of God. And Daniel has family and relations in this city. And I have no intention other than to offer them help, so far as I am able, and thus reward the man of God!”

  “There is nothing
that you can do and as for rewarding him,” – that clear voice rang out, the voice that reached into the very souls of those who heard, setting all the fibres a-quiver – “it is for God to reward him, the God who is always by his side! And you should know Sir, that Daniel’s family, his blood-relations, his mother, his sisters and brother – have all perished. By the sword and by hunger and by fire. One of his sisters married a man and he was killed in the battle on the walls. She herself was trapped in the ruins of her burning house and expired, a one-day old baby in her arms. His mother’s funeral, I conducted personally. She and her son died of hunger. His younger sister took her own life. And you, man of Babylon, you know Daniel and you know of his holiness?”

  “I know him and I know of him, Sir!” Or-Nego answered him, his voice quavering again, as he bowed and prostrated himself at the feet of this miraculous man.

  “Do you believe in the God of Daniel, who is my God?”

  “I believe!” Or-Nego heard his own voice, as if it were the voice of a stranger.

  “With absolute faith?”

  “With absolute faith, Sir! And to prove my faith,” Or-Nego added, “I mean to accept the rite of circumcision!”

  “Circumcision in the flesh can wait – you must first purify your heart!” warned Jeremiah, adding: “All the sons of Israel and of Judah are circumcised, but what does this circumcision of the flesh avail them, if they are gentiles at heart?”

  “What does it mean, Sir, to be a gentile at heart?” the Chaldean officer asked, still on his knees. “Tell me, so I may avoid it.”

  “It means estrangement from the living God and the worship of idols, namely the idol of greed and the idol of deceit and the idol of adultery! Anyone who abandons the worship of these idols, even if he be uncircumcised – is a son of God! And the one who worships them, even if he be circumcised – is a gentile at heart and an enemy of God! The iniquities of the sons of Judah and the sons of Israel, circumcised though they are, are more grave than the iniquities of all the uncircumcised nations. For the sons of Judah and the sons of Israel knew what had to be done and they did not do it, while the other nations do not know what has to be done and yet sometimes – they do it! So purify your heart first, and only then will the fleshly rite avail you!”