Of Fire and Lions

by Mesu Andrews

  Zerubbabel opened the side door, and the roar of conversation stilled. Daniel’s footsteps grew shorter and slower. Darius and Belili crowded him from behind, and Zerubbabel coaxed him to a quicker pace. “Don’t rush me!” Daniel snapped.

  “Shhh, my love.” Belili left Darius’s side to accompany Daniel down the six steps of the dais while Zerubbabel remained on the platform with the king.

  Darius sat on his throne, waiting for Daniel, Belili, and Allamu to settle into place. Daniel felt as if the floor were shifting beneath him, but when he looked down, he realized his legs were shaking violently, causing him to sway. What was happening to him? He’d never been afraid to die.

  Well, not exactly true. Death itself seemed a welcome friend. He looked forward to entering paradise, to spending eternity with Father Abraham and the other faithful who were waiting. It was the dying that terrified him. The pain. The suffering. The lingering fear of being torn apart by lions.

  “According to the law of the Medes and Persians to which I am bound,” King Darius bellowed over the silent crowd, “Lord Belteshazzar is guilty of breaking the law of Hidati and is hereby stripped of all official titles. He is henceforth known as Daniel, the Hebrew, and will be lowered into the lions’ pit this night and sealed up until morning.”

  His eyes narrowed, searching the men on the audience benches. “Orchamus, stand.”

  Daniel considered asking the king to make Orchamus the new chief administrator. Perhaps, then, the covetous overseer would end this vendetta and Daniel could be set free. He dared glance over his shoulder and noted his terror mirrored on the overseer’s face.

  “Yes, my king?” Orchamus stepped toward the dais.

  Darius held up his right hand, displaying the cylinder ring he wore. “When the guards roll the stone over the pit to secure it with wax, I’ll impress my seal to ensure the rock isn’t disturbed overnight. Every council member who signed the written accusation against Daniel will also press his seal into the wax. Is that clear?”

  Orchamus turned to scan the men nodding their approval behind him and stood taller. “We will be honored to do so, my king.”

  Darius directed his next command at the prisoner. “Daniel, the Hebrew, you will now turn and face your accusers. Scribe, read the names.”

  Daniel’s feet felt rooted to the floor, and his knees were too weak to support him. Allamu helped him turn, and Belili laced her arm through his while the man seated on a cushion beside the throne began shouting names. Each man stood as his name was called—one hundred twenty-one in all—and Daniel felt each one like a blow.

  The scribe announced the conclusion of his list, and Belili released a cry that came out on a sob. “Allamu’s name was not among them.” A small victory, but still a gift, on the darkest day of Daniel’s life.

  “Guards!” Darius’s shout made him jump. “Seize the prisoner, lower him into the pit, seal the stone, and lock the gates. Court is adjourned.”

  An excited buzz swept over the crowd as six guards approached Daniel from every direction. One separated him from Belili as if with an ax. Another bound his wrists. Two more removed Daniel’s outer cloak and jewelry. The last two started to take his sandals but saw the condition of his feet and decided not to touch them.

  Allamu stood five paces away with Belili, while Daniel was stripped of his title, his dignity, and his courage. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He felt the first shove toward the lions’ pit, and panic gripped him. His knees gave way, and he began to whimper like a child.

  “Pray, beloved,” Belili called out over the ruckus.

  “Get out of the way.” Zerubbabel shoved two guards aside and gently lifted Daniel into his arms. “We are sons of David, men of honor. You will meet Yahweh in this pit, Daniel ben Johanan—one way or another.” He began marching to the rhythm of King David’s shepherd song. “The Lord is our shepherd. We shall never want. He makes us lie down in green pastures…”

  Daniel closed his eyes to hide himself in the words. Too soon, his human conveyance stopped, and he opened his eyes to King Darius standing beside them. Zerubbabel lowered Daniel’s feet to the glazed tiles in the courtyard, where he’d been delivered as a captive sixty-seven years ago. Flaming torches lined a rectangular pit the length of four horses, the width of two. A huge slab of limestone rested on two long timbers, ready to roll over the opening. Lions roared, and Daniel’s skin crawled. A guttural moan escaped him.

  “Be strong, Daniel,” Zerubbabel whispered. “You must be strong for our brother Hebrews in the crowd watching. Perhaps next time we will be as courageous as you when our faith is tested.”

  His words, like a splash of cold water, silenced Daniel. Still paralyzed by fear, the thought that his Hebrew brethren were near somehow gave him a measure of peace. He searched for Allamu and Belili and found them close by. Despite his harsh judgment, his wife remained. Who stood with her when she faced death in Achmetha?

  “Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God, the LORD is one.” His wife’s voice rent the night air. “Love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength.” Daniel sent her a warning look. No! Stop! You’ll be arrested too. But she kept praying. “These commandments that I give you today are to be on your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you—”

  Allamu gripped her arm. Angry words passed between them, and then…“Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God…” Her prayer continued while Zerubbabel and another soldier took hold of Daniel’s arms, fairly carrying him to a large basket connected to a rope and pulley system.

  The roars increased as they drew nearer, and Daniel caught his first glimpse of one of the large males when it leapt halfway up the wall and fell back into the pit. Fear had weakened him completely. Unable to stand and shaking violently, he could barely comprehend his surroundings. But he heard his wife’s voice and the prayer that had been engraved on their hearts.

  “Love the LORD your God with all your heart,” he whispered, “and with all your soul and with all your strength.”

  Zerubbabel alone lifted Daniel into the basket, eyes moist and his voice low. “Now would be a good time to remind Yahweh of His promise to return you to Jerusalem, my friend.” Daniel crouched into a ball inside the basket, unable to clarify that Yahweh hadn’t promised it would be him who returned.

  More lions jumped, perhaps sensing the increased activity above them. Zerubbabel lingered at Daniel’s side, his presence like a shield.

  King Darius called him away, but Zerubbabel gripped Daniel’s shoulder before leaving. “May the Lord bless you and keep you.”

  He was gone in a moment, and three other guards began lowering Daniel into the pit as two lions lunged for the basket. The king’s voice echoed in the darkness. “Daniel, may your god, whom you serve continually, rescue you!”

  44

  At the first light of dawn, the king got up and hurried to the lions’ den.

  —DANIEL 6:19

  I was grateful Darius ordered a wide perimeter, so only soldiers were near enough to see what happened when they lowered my husband into the pit. The lions’ roars were deafening. Daniel was silent.

  I buried my face in Allamu’s chest, overcome by fear and unable to continue my prayers. Soldiers moved the stone over the opening and immediately poured hot wax around all but a few places, allowing air for the lions to breathe.

  I tried to resume my prayer, but bile rose in my throat, and I nearly lost the day’s feast on Darius’s jeweled sandals. He quickly fled to impress his seal on the wax, as did one hundred twenty-one other men.

  Allamu remained at my side, his hand resting gently on my back. “Come, Mother. I’ll escort you home.”

  “No, I’m staying.” I hadn’t planned to say it; in fact, the declaration seemed to startle us both.

  “Mother, you can’t stay.”

  I stood sil
ently, refusing to argue, watching the crowd disperse. King Darius trudged away like a child who had lost his last friend.

  My son stood there gawking like a toad, mouth open waiting for flies. “I can’t convince you to leave, can I?”

  I shook my head but couldn’t speak. Tears were too close to the surface.

  He brushed my arm, his voice soft. “You realize, don’t you, what lions do to a—”

  “Stop!” I waved away his words. “You don’t realize what Yahweh can do with lions.” I folded my arms over my chest and sat with my back toward the pit while the moon shone overhead.

  Though the city outside the courtyard walls was still bustling—grinding more grain in the gossip mills—the lions in the pit below had grown disturbingly quiet. I wanted to shout Daniel’s name but was terrified I’d hear no reply.

  Allamu’s touch startled me, and he lifted his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry. I…You’re trembling. Are you cold?”

  “No, no. It’s fine. I’m just…”

  He removed his cloak and wrapped it around me.

  My son sat with legs folded, forearms resting on his knees, his eyes looking everywhere but at me. He looked toward the palace. Then up at the stars. Over my shoulder. Still my little boy, all nerves and awkwardness when faced with emotion.

  I rescued him from the silence. “When you walked into the Esagila on the morning after the invasion, I thought you were Gadi, raised from the dead.” Finally, he looked at me. “You’re so much like him, you know.”

  “So I’ve been told.” He picked up a pebble and focused on scraping it against the blue-glazed tile. “But I didn’t inherit his talent for interpreting dreams, Mother. I’m not as gifted as other Magoi.”

  “Is that why you hate me so? Because my Hebrew blood robbed you of a pure Magoi gift?”

  He slapped the pebble against the tile. “I don’t hate you. Why must you twist—” He stopped himself and drew in a breath. “Can we simply look at the stars?” Leaning back on one arm, he tilted his head to the sky, perusing the miracles of a God he refused to acknowledge.

  “I’m sorry, Allamu.”

  His head snapped toward me. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m sorry I taught you to deceive and be angry.”

  His expression softened. “Mother, I didn’t mean—”

  “I didn’t actually sit you down and tell you to do those things, I know, but you’ve always been a smart boy. I’ve been angry since I lost my ima in Jerusalem and then was forced to leave Daniel in Babylon.” Now I wanted to look away, hide myself in a distant glance, but I studied the son who had been cheated out of a mother. “My life has been a lie since the eunuchs took me from Babylon. I became Belili and never looked back.”

  The gravity of my wasted life weighted me, and the image of Daniel praying on the floor of our chamber played in my memory. On his belly. Facedown. Arms outstretched. I bowed my head. Yahweh, my heart and soul are prostrate before You now. How can I fix a life so broken? I would surely have to confess to all my children about my past.

  “Mother?”

  Allamu’s touch lifted my head, and I knew Abigail must be reborn. “I must ask for your forgiveness, Son. Hiding the truth of my heritage hurt you deeply, and I’m sorry. I’ve wronged Daniel in the same way. Perhaps if I’d told him from the beginning that my faith in Yahweh was an interrupted journey, not a continual climb like his own, he might have been able to forgive me.”

  “He wouldn’t forgive you?” Kezia stood in the shadows, not ten paces behind us, clutching a blanket to her chest.

  “It doesn’t matter. Now there are no more secrets between us.” I patted the tiles beside me. “Bring your blanket and let’s get some rest.”

  Allamu leaned on one hand, ready to stand. “I’ll leave you two alone.”

  I deferred to Kezia since she was the one who had been slower to warm to her brother. “No,” she said, placing a hand gently on his arm. “Please stay. We should all be here at dawn to see Yahweh’s great deliverance.”

  * * *

  My awareness grew, though sleep still lingered. Something dragged over a cobblestoned street. My body ached. The noise grew louder as wakefulness heightened my senses. My eyes shot open, and I sat upright—beside a lions’ pit. The cobblestone noise was actually snoring, but not Allamu, as I’d first thought. Kezia lay sprawled on her back, making the same awful racket as her abba with his winter cough and drainage.

  Allamu sat two paces from me. “She’s been doing it all night.” His smirk said she’d likely hear his teasing when we all got past this morning’s fears.

  I looked at the pit. Wax seal unbroken. Nothing had changed, and my heart ached. What had I expected? Maybe a bolt of lightning to strike the rock? Perhaps Daniel to be miraculously sucked through the small air holes while I slept? Yahweh chose to do neither, and I struggled this morning to forgive Him for it. What would I do if they removed the rock and my Daniel was—gone?

  “I checked your palace villa this morning.” Allamu kept his voice low. “Darius hasn’t sent anyone to seize it yet, but we must face reality. I’ll order your things moved to my villa by midday.”

  “To your villa?” Surprised at his generosity, I saw his tentative gaze return to the tiles.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ll have them moved to Kezia’s—”

  “No, no.” How could I convey my shock without sounding ungrateful? “I, uh…Daniel and I wouldn’t want to be a bother, but we’d be happy to live at your villa, Allamu.”

  His dark eyes held me, the waning moonlight glistening off gathering moisture. “Mother, you’ve got to face the possibility that—”

  “I’ll face it if it becomes true, but not before. You didn’t see Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego in that blazing furnace, Allamu. Yahweh is a miracle-working God.”

  He cupped my cheek, and I leaned into his rare affection. “But I saw Daniel’s feet. Yahweh chose not to intervene.”

  Men’s bawdy laughter sent a chill up my spine. The king’s soldiers changing guard. Kezia startled awake. “Is he…Did they…”

  “It’s almost dawn, love.” I patted her leg and stood, returning Allamu’s cloak and folding the blanket. “The king should join us anytime now.”

  As if summoned by my words, King Darius appeared at the palace entrance and fairly sprinted down the long staircase. “Have you heard anything?” At least twenty guards trailed behind him.

  I wasn’t sure what he thought we might hear. “No, it’s been quiet.”

  He looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. Perhaps I had. Complete peace had overtaken me. Not a single skip of my heart, even when the soldiers began breaking away the wax seal. It was as if Yahweh Himself had cradled me in His arms and held me.

  I still chose to stand twenty paces from the pit while the soldiers used ropes and pulleys to hoist the slab of rock, swing it onto the two timbers, and roll the stone away. Kezia and Allamu stood behind me, and Darius knelt at the edge of the open pit. “Daniel, servant of the living God, has your god, whom you serve continually, been able to rescue you from the lions?”

  First I heard a groan, the sound Daniel made when standing after he’d sat too long. Then, “May the king live forever!” His strong voice rose from the pit. “My God sent His angel and shut the mouths of the lions. They haven’t hurt me, because I was found innocent in His sight. Nor have I ever done any wrong before you, my king.”

  Allamu staggered back. Kezia jumped and squealed, then pulled him toward me, jostling us both until we all laughed like children.

  “Get him out! Get him out!” Darius shouted at the men with ropes and then peeked over the side. “Is the angel still down there?”

  Curious myself, I extricated myself from my children and rushed to the pit, looking over the side. Lying calm as Egyptian cats, seven lions watched my Daniel rise with the rope looped ar
ound him and under his arms. I rushed to where the men untangled him, and nearly tackled him. The moment his feet touched the ground, the beasts began wildly pacing and roaring. One even leapt upward, swatting at the rope that dangled over the side.

  Daniel skittered away from the edge, drawing me with him. Eyes wide, he looked at me and then King Darius. “Well, there was certainly none of that last night. They were calm as kittens.”

  Darius grabbed Daniel and pulled him into a fierce hug but released him quickly. “Are you injured? Let me see you.” He lifted his arms. Turned him around to inspect his robes. When he knelt to look at Daniel’s feet, his jaw dropped. “Daniel, your feet are no longer—”

  “Swollen, my king?” Daniel lifted his robe.

  I bent to inspect the feet I’d pampered and bandaged, now perfectly normal. “Yahweh healed your feet too?” All redness and swelling around his joints was gone.

  “I think they were healed sometime in the night.” He offered his hand and helped me stand. “I woke to someone’s snoring.” He looked at Allamu. “Was that you?”

  “I wouldn’t know.” My son turned to Kezia, whose cheeks instantly pinked. “Perhaps it was Yahweh’s way of notifying you of His healing.”

  Kezia offered a grateful nod, but the small deceit reminded me of the larger one I’d confessed to Daniel last night. “Daniel, I…” My words died as I searched his eyes for the disgust I’d seen last night. “We need some time alone—to finish our talk.”

  He turned to King Darius, head bowed in submission. “I must return home for my morning prayers, my king. Please know that when I pray toward Jerusalem at an open window, it is not out of defiance. I remain your faithful servant, Daniel ben Johanan.” He looked up then. “But perhaps Belili and I should move our personal belongings out of the palace villa.”