Of Fire and Lions

by Mesu Andrews

  Daniel’s relieved sigh turned into a grin and changed Allamu’s concern to anger. “How can you smile? Over a hundred witnesses stand against you.”

  Daniel looked beyond Allamu to Zerubbabel at the gate. “And yet I’m not under arrest.”

  Zerubbabel stepped up beside Allamu. “Darius doesn’t want to lose his best administrator. He’s distressed, Daniel. He commanded his scribes to find a way to reverse the law.”

  Belili jumped from her pillow and hugged Daniel with a stranglehold. “It’s wonderful news.”

  “It’s not a reprieve,” Allamu cautioned. “Don’t celebrate yet. Court reconvenes at sunset.”

  Mert appeared with a tray full of bowls. “Aren’t you a fly in the wine.” She shoved the tray into Allamu’s hands with a mischievous grin. “I’m glad you brought your guard. He can help you set the tables. I’ve made your favorite—gruel with date paste.” She patted his cheek and whispered, “Your ima needs you.”

  Allamu glanced at his mother, and her expression brightened to a welcoming smile. “Please stay, Son.”

  “Come, Zerubbabel.” He nodded in the direction of three long rectangular tables. “It appears we have work to do.”

  “I’ll help too.” Kezia exchanged a meaningful glance with him and followed the two men to the dining area.

  Daniel pulled his wife close, watching Mert marshal the family into action and then set to work at her cook fire. The sweet aromas of feasting wafted through the courtyard all day long. Though Daniel’s mouth watered to sample the roast duck and lamb mounded on his family’s plates, he was obedient to his conscience, knowing the diet he’d eaten as a captive prince was the answer to his aching feet. Mert had gone to great lengths preparing tasty chickpea stew with onions, garlic, and leeks, seasoned to perfection. Fresh fruits would soon ripen as the Akitu festival—now Hidati—signaled the beginning of spring in Babylon.

  He laid his head in Belili’s lap and patted his rounded belly, laughing at the antics of their great-grandchildren and enjoying easy conversation with the whole family around them. His wife, however, appeared deep in thought, her smile distant. “Yahweh can deliver me,” he said quietly. “Lions are no more challenging than a fiery furnace.”

  She lowered her eyes to meet his, blinking away tears. “What if He doesn’t?”

  Daniel sat up and drew her chin toward him, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Yahweh delivered Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego from Nebuchadnezzar’s lunacy on the Dura Plain but allowed them to die at the hands of Nabonidus years later. Who can know the mind of God or the reasons behind His salvation? But we can know two things for certain.” He held up one finger. “We know God is good no matter what tonight holds, and”—his second finger went up—“nothing can make me deny the one true God.”

  Belili’s countenance crumbled. Covering her cries, she scooted from the bench, fled from the courtyard, and disappeared upstairs. Several of their children saw her hurried departure and exchanged puzzled glances. Kezia’s eyes met Daniel’s with something more than concern. Something that tied a knot in his belly.

  He called her over with a wave. She obeyed but stood silent before him, head bowed.

  “Your ima is upset about more than my arrest, isn’t she?”

  After a slight pause, she looked up, her eyes filled with tears. “Talk to her, Abba. Don’t let this day pass without talking to your wife.”

  * * *

  I lay across our bed, weeping, Daniel’s words gouging my soul. “Nothing can make me deny the one true God.” His faith was unshakable. Even on the eve of his arrest, even while remembering the unjust deaths of his best friends, he could say without pause that he would never deny Yahweh.

  How could he ever forgive a wife who had?

  I’d planned to tell him today. After we broke our fast, I almost took him aside, but Shesh wanted to show him one of Isaiah’s scrolls. After our midday meal, I was going to walk with him in the garden and tell him of my idolatry then, but he played Hounds and Jackals with one of the grandsons. Moments ago, the words were on my tongue to confess my life of bondage to Mithra. He was peaceful, and Yahweh had restored my faith and peace. I was ready to trust in Jehovah-jireh—God, my provider—when Daniel’s declaration snatched away all hope that he could ever understand or forgive.

  “Belili?” My husband’s voice sent a shock of terror through my veins.

  “What is it, my love?” I wiped my eyes and tried to gain control as he lumbered across the room on swollen, painful feet. How could I explain my departure without telling the whole truth now? Yahweh, he is Your most precious gift to me. How could You ask me to give him up?

  A clear but silent voice resonated like a drum in my mind. Is he more precious to you than I AM? The thought stripped away all pretense, exposing the filth of my excuses and half truths. No fear of physical or emotional pain could compare to an everlasting separation from the One who always showed me mercy. My choice was finally made, my surrender complete.

  He hobbled across the room, sat on the bed beside me, and pulled me into his arms. I felt his heartbeat against my chest as if it were my own. “I must confess my sin to you, Husband, because your courage has been a light shining on my darkness.” I pulled away and held his gaze. The same fear twisted my tongue. “I…When I…” I bowed my head and inhaled a sustaining breath. “When I was abandoned by Ashpenaz’s eunuchs in Achmetha…” I faced him and continued, “I begged on the streets until I was taken into the temple of Mithra and nursed back to health. I was expected to serve in order to pay my debt. Within a few years I became the high priestess of Mithra.”

  I let the weight of the revelation register on his expression before I went on. “I rejected Yahweh in Achmetha, certain He had rejected me—or I thought perhaps that He was simply limited to His presence atop the Ark or with good people like you. By the time Gadi paid the exorbitant price for my dowry, I was hardened toward any god and never worshipped at Mithra’s temple again. After several miscarriages, Allamu became my sun and moon, and then even he was taken from me.”

  “Stop!” Daniel’s face grew crimson. “You’re telling me you didn’t believe in Yahweh even after we were married?”

  Fear rose up again at the anger smeared across his features. “I…Yes, I believed…that He answered your prayers. But not mine. I believed I was too broken, too stained. I thought Yahweh could never hear the prayers of a woman like me, but then I saw Him humble Nebuchadnezzar. And I witnessed Amyitis’s love. I knew then that if a woman—flawed as my friend was—could love her husband while he was a brute beast, harming her and those she cared for, somehow Yahweh could love me too.”

  Daniel’s lips were pressed into a thin white line, but I had to finish. I needed to assure him that my heart was secure with Yahweh now. “He has become to me like water and air. I am changed because of the love He has shown me. Because of the love you have shown me.”

  I reached for his hand to lift it to my lips, but he pulled away as if I were leprous. “How could you deny Him, Belili? You witnessed His power in the Holy of Holies. You saw Him rescue our friends from the fire on the Dura Plain. It’s not as if Yahweh was a story you heard from traveling merchants. How could you ignore His power, His presence?” His voice rose with every accusation. “You knew Him, Abigail!”

  The disdain I’d feared blazed from his eyes and sent my heart reeling. “But I didn’t know Him. Not really. Not until—” The sound of rhythmic footsteps outside our bedroom window stole my breath, and I saw the same recognition on his features.

  Daniel pushed himself off the bed and cried out when his feet touched the floor. I supported his arm, but he pulled away. “Leave me, woman.”

  I backed away, covering a sob as the shout came from the courtyard.

  “By the order of King Darius, Lord Belteshazzar is to be taken immediately and without mercy into the custody of the royal guard.”


  We stared at each other while listening to the words. Without comment, he turned to go.

  I rushed after him. “I’m going with you.”

  “No!” He whirled on me, his hand raised in warning. “You will remain with Shesh and Kezia.”

  In a flash of memory no longer than a blink, I thought of Amyitis combing that creature’s hair with her ivory comb, and I knew where I belonged. “I’m going with you to witness Yahweh’s deliverance and bring you home.”

  43

  So the king gave the order, and they brought Daniel and threw him into the lions’ den. The king said to Daniel, “May your God, whom you serve continually, rescue you!”

  —DANIEL 6:16

  Four hulking soldiers barged into our bedchamber and unceremoniously carried Daniel downstairs. Allamu followed them, shouting, “Take care with his feet.”

  I was two steps behind them. Kezia intercepted me with a hug, pressing her lips against my ear. “Did you tell him?”

  Holding her tight, I whispered, “It didn’t go well. Please pray. I’ve upset him at a time when he needs peace.”

  She held me at arm’s length, infusing me with her approval. “He needed the truth, Ima. You’ve both shown great courage today. Yahweh will deliver.”

  Allamu returned after settling Daniel in the palanquin and looked at our family, his expression grim. “No exception was found. Pray to your god, and I’ll send word when we receive the final verdict.” He nudged me toward the gate. “Come, Mother.”

  “We will send word of Daniel’s deliverance,” I corrected, refusing to consider another outcome.

  He didn’t contradict but rather hurried me to the street, where we caught up with the guards who carried my husband toward the palace. We walked alongside for the short distance, but rather than entering the palace courtyard through the south gate, the guards continued down the street.

  I pointed in the proper direction and shouted, “Wait, where are—”

  Allamu wrapped a strong arm around me, prodding me to follow the straying palanquin. “It’s all right, Mother. They’re taking a different route.” He looked behind him as if being chased.

  I looked back too but saw nothing unusual. The guards turned into a narrow alleyway and set the palanquin on the tiled street at the top of the stairway I recognized from years ago. “Why are they taking him through the servants’ entrance?”

  Allamu pulled me close, kissed the top of my head, and whispered against my hair, “I’m sure they’re following orders, Mother. Please keep silent.”

  The guards helped Daniel out of the palanquin and, though he tried to refuse their help, they fairly carried him down the stairs and through the narrow passageways to the wide public hall leading to the courtroom.

  Daniel greeted each soldier by name along the way, receiving surprised and respectful nods in return. I offered my hand to support him, but he pushed it away. “I will lean on Yahweh alone.”

  His words, intended to harm, hit their mark; but I refused to be dissuaded. “He will be your shield, your sword, and your strong tower.”

  As we approached the throne room doors, Zerubbabel was one of the two guards stationed there. He spoke in a whisper as we passed, “May Yahweh save you, Daniel ben Johanan.”

  “Thank you, Zerubbabel.” Daniel’s voice quaked as he passed, but the man’s presence was encouraging. Yahweh’s people, scattered all over Babylon, would hear of Daniel’s faithfulness and recount the stories of his deliverance. Please, Yahweh, let there be deliverance.

  Allamu offered me his forearm, and I placed my hand there, afraid my knees would buckle as I followed my husband into King Darius’s courtroom. The crowded room smelled of stale sweat and rancid wine. Men sat shoulder to shoulder on councilmen’s benches, and others stood tightly packed to the walls, leaving only a narrow aisle. Daniel limped down the crimson carpet amid the whispers of jealous men. When he reached the foot of the dais, Allamu stood on his right, I on his left. We bowed as one and waited to be addressed, while the audience stilled.

  “Lord Belteshazzar,”—King Darius’s voice sounded like cymbals in the silence—“you have been accused of wantonly disregarding the law of Hidati, praying to your god rather than to your king. What say you in defense?”

  “I respectfully vow, before you and these witnesses, King Darius, that I serve you to the best of my ability, but I serve Yahweh with every beat of my heart. He commands that I pray to none but Him, and His law is higher than the law of any man.”

  “Treason!” one man shouted.

  “To the lions!” yelled another, jabbing his finger at the air.

  King Darius stood, his very presence quieting the onlookers. “I will see you in my private chamber, Lord Belteshazzar. Now!”

  “My king!” Orchamus stood. “Why not sentence him? Has he not confessed his crime? Your law is irrevocable. What further discussion is necessary?”

  King Darius’s eyes narrowed. “Perhaps I wish to discuss who else will join him in the pit.”

  Orchamus resumed his seat, and Darius stalked toward a side exit. Daniel followed the king, and I followed Daniel. Allamu reached for my arm, but I pulled away. “I’m going!”

  When I took another step, the king’s hard stare met me. “You weren’t invited, Mistress Belili.”

  I returned his gaze but kept my voice low. “You should invite me, King Darius. Young Cyrus discovered I was quite stubborn, and so will you.”

  The king’s lifted brow questioned Daniel, and I held my breath, waiting to see if my husband would shut me out. His apathetic shrug gave permission.

  As the guard was about to open the king’s chamber door, Daniel pulled me into his arms. “Wait!” His hands trembled, his face pale as milk. “I beg you, contain Nergala before we enter.”

  Darius’s features softened. “It’s done, Lord Belteshazzar. I can’t save you, but I won’t make you face Nergala or parade you past the lions’ pit on your way to your trial.”

  Daniel held me between himself and the king as if frozen, unable to respond. Filling the silence, I said, “Thank you, my king. You are most kind.” It was then that I realized we’d been taken through the servants’ entrance to avoid seeing the lions’ pit. Though I appreciated his thoughtfulness, my heart nearly failed when he said, “I can’t save you.” Was that what had changed Daniel’s demeanor so drastically?

  I looked back at my husband and spoke gently while prying his fingers from my arms. “We must follow the king, my love.”

  Like waking from a dream, he blinked several times before following Darius into what had been Nebuchadnezzar’s chamber. The old hunting trophies were gone, replaced with tasteful tapestries and Persian pottery.

  “Mistress Belili, please sit down.” Darius pointed to the couch where Daniel sat, and I realized I was the only one still standing. The king heaved a sigh and fixed his gaze on my husband. “I had no idea you prayed to your god three times a day until Allamu told me on the day of my decree that you would never stop. So I sent messages through carrier pigeons to Achmetha on that very day, asking Cyrus to overrule my premature edict.”

  “Thank you, my king,” Daniel said. “But as I’m sure you’re aware, the laws of the Medes and Persians are ir—”

  “Irrevocable. Yes, I know. Orchamus has reminded me of it at least a thousand times. He wants to make your execution public. Light torches around the pit. Invite the whole city. He even suggested jugglers and dancers.”

  I covered an involuntary whimper, my heart melting in my chest.

  “Truly, Mistress Belili, I’ve done all I could to save Lord Belteshazzar.” King Darius’s tone bordered on frustration. “First, because he is the best administrator in my kingdom, but also because he is your husband, and King Cyrus holds a special fondness for you. I’m not anxious to kill a man who’s wife nursed the emperor’s beloved a
unt during her last days.”

  Shocked, I didn’t know if I should be flattered or offended, but at this point I was grateful King Darius had tried to save my husband.

  Darius pulled his fingers through his hair, sweat glistening on his forehead. “I hope, Mistress Belili, when the emperor next visits Babylon, you will speak to Cyrus about me with the same mercy I’ve shown your husband in his last hours.”

  Could I somehow use King Darius’s fear of Cyrus to change my husband’s fate? I glanced to my right to see if Daniel had noticed the same opportunity, but my husband had suddenly grown old. He was round shouldered and frail, and his head and hands bobbed with the tremors of the aged. I laid my hand on his arm, and he jumped as if he’d forgotten I was there.

  His eyes darted from me to Darius and back to me. “I don’t want to die, Belili. I don’t want to die.”

  Any advantage I thought we might have had fled when I saw the terror on Daniel’s face. There would be no negotiation from him. My husband was going to the lions.

  * * *

  The edges of his vision darkened, and Daniel saw only his wife’s face. Mouth dry, he couldn’t speak. He accepted King Darius’s help to stand and shuffled his feet as if in a dream—no, a nightmare—allowing the king to lead him back to the throne room. Panic had seized his body like a vise the moment he’d approached the king’s door and remembered Nergala. Every detail of the lioness’s powerful frame rushed into his mind’s eye. Claws. Teeth. Even the sinewy muscles that flexed each time she moved.

  “Courage, Lord Belteshazzar.” Zerubbabel was now at his side. Where had he come from? They passed three guards on their way to the throne room’s side door, each one staring as if Daniel were a leper escaped from the colony.

  He glanced behind him. Darius followed, Belili on his arm. Betrayers, both of them. Darius wished to save him only to save face with Cyrus. And his wife—had everything been a lie? No. She loved him, but could love be true when all else was a lie?