by Mesu Andrews
Descending the steps, he passed Belili and Lord Gadi. The chief magus cried out, “By all the gods, it can’t be!” Others shouted similar astonishment, but Daniel still couldn’t get a good look at what they’d seen.
Royal eunuchs gathered around the king, who stood twenty camel lengths away from the furnace’s ground-level opening. Arioch grabbed Daniel’s right sleeve and dragged him toward the king.
Daniel felt a sudden tug on his left sleeve and looked behind him. Gadi clutched the blue cloth of his robe, countenance bright with a mischievous grin. “I want to see this miracle up close!”
Had the whole world gone mad? Daniel would have ordered his arrest had Belili not peered over his shoulder, eyes swollen, face wet with tears.
“Get her away from here, Gadi!” Daniel’s heart shattered that the girl he once loved had witnessed the atrocity of these deaths and another of his failures to protect his friends.
Gadi scoffed. “Seeing the wonder will erase her tears, Lord Belteshazzar.”
Completely bewildered, Daniel shielded his face from the heat and stumbled to the king’s side. “Lord Belteshazzar, look in that furnace and tell me what you see.”
Daniel would rather have run into the flames than see the remains of his friends’ bodies, but, coward that he was, he lifted his eyes and saw.
“Four.” He could barely comprehend it. “Four men.” He gasped for breath. “Yahweh, God of heaven, I see four men in the flames. Walking around. As though unharmed.”
Arioch stood behind them and whispered, “Oohh.” A sound Daniel had never heard from Nebuchadnezzar’s hardened bodyguard.
Lord Gadi stood at Daniel’s left and placed Belili between them, her head bowed. Daniel felt her trembling against him and could barely resist taking her hand. Gadi placed his hand in front of her face to shield her eyes from the heat. “Lift your head, Belili, and see a true miracle.” She shook her head, failing to stifle a sob.
“You should listen to your bridegroom,” Daniel said gently. “It isn’t often one experiences Yahweh’s presence.” She shot a pained glance at him full of emotion. Betrayal? Accusation? He didn’t know what to say. “Look, Mistress Belili. They’re alive.”
Her shock was easily recognizable—and the joy that spread across her face once she looked. “There are four men in the furnace!”
King Nebuchadnezzar grabbed Daniel’s arm and took a step toward the furnace, repeating Belili’s words. “There are four men in that furnace.”
Sparks flew heavenward through the hole above, and Arioch pulled them back. “They are safe, my king. You are not.”
Nebuchadnezzar, eyes wide, turned to Daniel. “One of them looks like a son of the gods!” He shoved Arioch’s hand away, almost giddy.
Wonder spread like a wave, men and women pointing. Some nudged their way closer to see the sight they could hardly believe. There, in the red-yellow-orange of the blazing flames, were four men. One stood, arms raised, His white robe a protective covering over Daniel’s beloved friends, who knelt in worship to the only One who could save them. The only God deserving praise.
Amid the clamor, King Nebuchadnezzar shouted into the furnace, “Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, servants of the Most High God, come out! Come here!” His voice invaded the holy moment like cymbals in the dead of night.
The fourth Man in the furnace walked deeper into the flames and disappeared, uninvited by Babylon’s king to enter his council. But the three brothers looked up as if waking from a dream. Still deep inside the furnace, their faces perfectly at peace, each one rose from his knees and stepped from the flames onto the sunbaked soil of the Dura Plain. Unhurried, they walked across the twenty paces that separated them from the gathered crowd and bowed humbly to their king.
A great clamor of celebration greeted them, and the king shouted over the melee, “Praise be to your God, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, who sent his angel to rescue you this day!”
All the observers around Daniel echoed, “Praise be to the God of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego! Praise be to the God of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego!”
Daniel couldn’t take his eyes off his friends. No wounds marred their bodies; no hair was singed. Not even the smell of smoke clung to their robes. Daniel shook his head in utter delight. Yahweh, You have proven Your power to Babylon and its king!
The king raised his hands to silence the crowd and addressed the three eunuchs. “You were willing to defy my command and give up your lives rather than serve or worship any god but your own. Your loyalty is well placed.” He lifted his voice to address the crowd. “I hereby decree that the people of any nation or language who say anything against the God of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego be cut into pieces and their houses be turned into piles of rubble, for no other god can save in this way.”
Daniel suppressed a groan. Why must he ruin Yahweh’s praise with the threat of brutality? The king pulled the three into a tight circle, speaking in quiet tones meant only for the brothers.
Gadi nudged Daniel’s arm, offering his hand in friendship. “We’ll see you at our wedding feast tonight, I hope.” Belili ducked her head, and Daniel was caught speechless. Gadi seemed oblivious, bubbling with enough enthusiasm to carry the conversation. “I hope to meet your wife, Lord Belteshazzar. You are married, aren’t you?”
Belili’s head shot up, waiting for Daniel’s response. “I, uh…yes, of course. Tonight, then.”
“We have much to prepare before the banquet.” Gadi bowed, his countenance bright. “My Belili will be the most beautiful bride you’ve ever seen.”
Daniel bowed, keeping his head lowered. “Of that I have no doubt.”
18
Then the king promoted Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego in the province of Babylon.
—DANIEL 3:30
Daniel walked on clouds from the Dura Plain to Babylon after his friends’ dramatic salvation. He and Arioch took their customary positions at the left and right of the king’s palanquin as they marched on the Processional Way. Nebuchadnezzar honored Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego by placing them directly behind him.
The crowd cheered the great miracle they’d witnessed, repeating, “Praise be to the God of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego! Praise be to the God of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego!” When the processional arrived inside the palace courtyard, King Nebuchadnezzar and Queen Amyitis exited their palanquins and walked hand in hand up the grand stairway. Daniel followed them to the top of the stairs and waited for his friends, feeling a growing angst to begin preparations for tonight’s feast. A stab of sorrow robbed his joy over God’s miracle salvation. How, and when, would he tell his three friends about Abigail—rather, Belili?
The brothers climbed the grand staircase to join him, their faces beginning to show the weariness of both the trauma and victory they’d borne today as the center of attention. Daniel opened his arms like a welcoming ima, anxious to embrace the men who had been in the physical presence of the Lord.
“You must tell me everything!” he said as all four fell into a circle of embrace. “I want every detail but after tonight’s wedding banquet.”
They moaned wearily. “What wedding banquet?” Shadrach asked, at least mildly conversant. “We were told the king plans to introduce us at a banquet and announce our promotions to the nobles.” He wiped sweat from his face. “All we want to do is sleep.”
Daniel tried not to sound demanding. “I’m sure Zakiti will have your bedchambers ready for you to rest before the banquet.”
“No need,” Shadrach continued for his brothers. “The king has reserved chambers in the palace for us to be fitted with our new governor’s robes.”
Abednego finally spoke up. “What wedding banquet is so important that we must attend?”
“You’re considered nobility since the king promoted you to governors of your cities.” Again Daniel felt like a
scolding ima. “You’re required to attend every royal function while in Babylon.”
Abednego straightened his spine, and hard lines formed between his brows. “You didn’t answer my question. Why must we attend this wedding?”
Daniel looked around to be sure he wasn’t overheard but still avoided the news he dreaded sharing. “Because after today’s great deliverance, you’re Yahweh’s mouthpiece to Babylon.”
“Answer the question.” Abednego’s eyes sparked. “Whose wedding is it?”
Suddenly, Daniel’s mouth felt full of sand. “It’s Abigail’s wedding.” Their faces looked the way his insides felt. “She’s marrying Gadi, the Medes’ chief magus.”
Shadrach was first to recover. “How did she get to Media? And how does she know the chief magus?”
Daniel shook his head, having wondered about God’s sovereign hand all afternoon. “She goes by the name Belili, and by all appearances she’s become a noblewoman in Achmetha. Make sure you address her accordingly.”
“Did Zakiti see her?” Meshach’s question knocked the wind from Daniel’s chest.
“I’m going home now to find out. Why don’t you three come with me to greet Zakiti before preparing for the banquet?”
“No thank you.” Abednego’s eyebrows shot up. “Eunuchs don’t have to witness fights with wives over past betrothals.”
“Go then.” Daniel nodded them toward the entrance with more happiness than he felt.
The short walk to his villa felt even shorter this afternoon. He’d been too distracted to notice where his wife stood in the crowd at the dedication. Had she seen Abigail? She would surely recognize her since they’d become friends while Daniel and the other princes trained and Abigail bought bread from her abba.
Too soon, he stood at his courtyard gate, wiping sweaty palms on his best robe. He was being ridiculous. Nebuchadnezzar’s chief wise man needn’t slink into his villa. Shoulders back, he strode through the gate and into the courtyard, where servants scurried past him and up the stairs bearing his wife’s finest robe and the box of gemstone necklaces. Zakiti obviously knew about the banquet. He climbed the steps slowly to their bedchamber, thinking through what he’d told his wife before they married—she knew of Abigail’s disappearance, the bloodstain in his chamber, and Ashpenaz’s involvement, and she knew that Abigail was taken to an unknown destination.
Abigail had been in Achmetha all this time. How had she risen to the status and privilege of betrothal to the chief magus? And why were her eyes filled with anger?
Daniel paused outside his bedroom door, listening to his wife’s familiar humming. He’d been honest with Zakiti from the beginning, telling her Abigail still held his heart. He’d even told her he couldn’t marry her if she continued to worship Marduk. It only made sense. If he refused food sacrificed to idols, how could he join himself in marriage to a woman who worshipped those idols? Zakiti married him anyway. Not because she trusted Yahweh or believed Daniel’s heart would be hers but because he’d promised to always be honest with her.
Abigail was his first love, and Belili was beautiful, but Zakiti was his wife, his life, his world. He pushed open the door to assure her of it.
* * *
I waited in the palace guest chamber Queen Amyitis assigned me. She’d forbidden Gadi to let his bride spend her wedding night in a tent, and I was delighted. Standing alone on the balcony of the second-floor chamber, I perused the city I’d first seen as a captive almost eight years ago. I remembered standing in the palace courtyard below, terrified when I was taken from my four young princes. Memories assailed me, as did unanswered questions. Why had Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego chosen to become eunuchs? Who was Daniel’s wife? Did they have children? Where was Mert?
I settled the uncertainties into a small chamber of my heart and closed the door, whispering only one question on the night breeze. “Am I marrying the right man?”
I heard the quiet swish of footsteps slip into my chamber and whirled on the intruder, wishing I still carried my dagger. Queen Amyitis observed my defensive stance with a smirk. “No one born to nobility has those reflexes. You’ve had to fight your way into Gadi’s heart.”
I inclined my head, offering neither assent nor dissent to her observation. She seemed intuitive. Why risk a lie? “Is my bridegroom ready to receive me?”
“I daresay he’s been ready all day.” She winked. I liked this queen. Older than Nebuchadnezzar, she wore her nobility naturally but discarded it for moments like these, when a woman needed a real friend.
“What advice would a queen give to a new bride?”
She held my gaze before answering, letting me know her words carried meaning. “Serve him. Love him. Teach him to treasure you, and he’ll be happy you did.” Without waiting for a response, she looped her arm through mine. “Come. I have a feeling we’re going to become good friends.”
The queen led me to my bridegroom’s chamber, where he waited in a stunning gold-trimmed robe with five of his chosen friends, one of whom was the king of Babylon. Since we had no family to pronounce a blessing, and the contract with its dowry had been exchanged in Achmetha’s temple, only the consummation was necessary before the banquet began downstairs. I stared into the face of Nebuchadnezzar and suddenly felt nine years old again. I was in the elegant chamber of Judah’s dangerous king. Where my abba was killed for defending Ima. Where my ima locked me out, hoping I’d be safe at the Temple. Safe? My whole life seemed a jumbled heap of pottery shards, jagged and dangerous, and one little slip could cut me to pieces.
Suddenly unable to breathe, I stepped back, intending to make my escape. Amyitis’s arm locked around mine. “Steady, girl. It will be over before you know it.”
The moment struck me as absurd. The queen of Babylon reassuring a high priestess about consummating her wedding night? A nervous giggle escaped, and Amyitis joined me. The men thought we were ridiculous but offered bawdy congratulations to my bridegroom. He stepped to my side, placing a possessive arm around my waist, while four of his friends filed out of the chamber.
The king and queen lingered in the doorway. “Be kind to her,” Nebuchadnezzar said. “If Amyitis loves her, she’s a treasure worth keeping.” They closed the door, and I lowered my head to hide a grin, lingering in the irony.
“Are you all right, my dove?” Gadi gently lifted my chin.
I saw the face of a friend, whom I hoped someday I could come to love. “I am well, Gadi, because I am yours.”
He loved me with tender passion—as a bride should be loved—keeping our banqueting friends celebrating long into the night before we joined them. When we entered the throne hall, the herald met us at the door and led us to the dais, where two dining tables were arranged. The king and queen reclined beside one table, leaving two open places, presumably for Gadi and me. At the second table reclined the other three guests of honor: Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. Daniel lounged beside them with a woman who looked rather familiar. But she was not Rubati, to my great relief.
“Nobles and noblewomen of Babylon,” the herald began, “it is my privilege to be the first to present the highly revered chief magus of our queen’s beloved homeland, Lord Gadi, and his new bride, Lady Belili. Let the newlywed banquet officially begin!” Warm laughter and applause welcomed us to Babylonian society, and the herald directed us to the royal table.
As I settled onto a cushion beside the queen, arranging my crimson robe around me, I looked up and found Daniel waiting. His arm rested comfortably around the waist of a woman I now recognized. “Lord Gadi, Lady Belili, I was unable to introduce my wife, Zakiti, this afternoon, so please allow me to do so now.”
“A pleasure to meet you both.” She bowed cordially, and Daniel’s pointed gaze told me he’d cautioned her to use discretion. Zakiti immediately turned to the queen. “The banquet is, as always, beyond measure.” She lifted Amyitis’s hand to her forehead i
n fealty, a melody of elegance.
Gadi stood to greet Daniel and began discussing something about a joint project for their schools of wisdom, and I tried not to stare at the baker’s daughter. I listened politely to her conversation with the queen and marveled at her refinement.
She turned to me. “How did you meet the chief magus, Lady Belili?”
The simple question drew both Daniel’s and Gadi’s attention. My husband placed his hand on mine. “We met in the market,” he said. “I saw this lovely woman buying a red scarf, my favorite color.”
“In the market?” Daniel nodded. “That’s where Zakiti and I met as well.” Everyone chuckled politely, only three of us fully grasping the awkwardness of the moment.
Feeling safely sheltered in our secret, wicked curiosity got the better of me. “How long have you and Lord Belteshazzar been married, Zakiti?”
The smile left her eyes, turning into a mask of decorum. “We married shortly after another girl betrayed him. I believe he’s much better off with me, don’t you?” Pink cheeks and misty eyes told me the confrontation required all her courage, and I hated myself for baiting her. Even her attempt at malice was tainted by decency.
“Yes, Zakiti. Lord Belteshazzar is much better off with you.”
Daniel nodded coolly, and they returned to their table.
Gadi informed the king of his and Daniel’s plans to integrate the wisdom teachings of both nations into their respective curriculums, and I let myself drown in my new world.
After a week of feasting, Gadi and I returned to Achmetha as husband and wife. I left Babylon with two precious gifts. One would arrive nine months later—a son named Allamu. The other would visit me in Achmetha each summer, Queen Amyitis, the dearest friend of my life.
