by Mesu Andrews
“You have served me well, but I agree it is time for you to move out of the palace villa and return to your family’s home.” Darius stared at him hard. “The Hidati festival will continue, and the law still stands; however, I will issue the following decree in every part of my kingdom to ensure your freedom to worship:
People of all nations, tribes, and tongues must fear and reverence the God of Daniel, for He is the living God and He endures forever. His kingdom will not be destroyed; His dominion will never end. He rescues and He saves; He performs signs and wonders in the heavens and on the earth. He has rescued Daniel from the power of the lions.
Darius grasped my husband’s wrist firmly. “You’re a good man, Daniel ben Johanan. Live at peace.”
As we walked away, I heard the king order his guards, “I want every man who signed Lord Belteshazzar’s arrest warrant in my courtroom immediately—with his entire family.”
“Yes, my king.”
I didn’t dare look back. I didn’t dare let my mind wander to what Darius would do to those men and their families. I was focused on the man walking beside me, the miraculous deliverance of our God, and how the confession I’d made would affect the rest of our days.
* * *
Allamu and Kezia strolled several paces ahead, chatting as if they were old friends. Daniel raised his brows in silent question, and Belili answered with a tentative smile. Yahweh had given him ample time to hear their stories in the days to come. It seemed the whole world had changed while he was in that dark hole, but the biggest change was his own heart.
He reached for his wife’s hand, hiding the affection between the folds of their robes. The sparkle in her eyes both thrilled and pained him. “I understand now, Belili.” He kept his eyes forward, afraid he wouldn’t be able to get through his confession if he looked at her. “When my fear overwhelmed me, I had a moment of regret. A moment when I realized if I’d been faced with your choices in Achmetha, I could have made the same mistakes. If I’d been alone as you were. If I’d been betrayed and abused and abandoned as you’d been. At my lowest moment, Zerubbabel reminded me I wasn’t alone. There were other faithful Hebrews around me, and then your prayer, beloved…Your prayer…” Daniel’s emotions choked his words.
“Nothing can excuse the choices I made, Daniel.” Her voice was flat, drawing his attention. Though her cheeks were damp with tears, her features held a peaceful glow. “At least I know what I’d choose now.” She stopped atop the Processional Way and faced him. “Life with idols or death for Yahweh? Belili chooses Yahweh. Abigail chooses Yahweh. I’ve become the sum of all my choices, and now I choose Yahweh over you, over our children, over life itself.”
He held her gaze, the clear-eyed beauty of the girl he once knew. “As do I, Abigail. As do I.” He looked left and right, considered his status as a simple citizen of Babylon, and kissed his wife’s cheek in public. Scandalous. He removed his sandals and turned his face to the rising sun, feeling the cool tiles beneath pain-free bare feet. “I’m alive, and you are forgiven. Let’s go home and inform Shesh and Kezia that they must share the villa with us again.”
They turned left, and soon the tiles beneath their feet changed to bricks in the city of nobility on the other side of the Way. Servants shook rugs and emptied waste pots, while nobles tried not to stare at Yahweh’s undeniable miracle. The story of Daniel’s deliverance would surely spread like wildfire through the provinces—praise be to Yahweh—making the gathering of Hebrews for the return to Jerusalem much more likely.
As they neared the villa, Daniel glanced at the woman he adored and found her brows downturned. He pulled her to a stop. “What is it? Are you anxious about living with Kezia and the children again?”
She shook her head and choked on a laugh. “I haven’t thought that far ahead. Actually, Allamu invited us to live with him, but I think he was carried away in the moment.”
“Allamu?” Yahweh had been busier than he’d realized. Watching Allamu and Kezia walking ahead, he considered their children’s newfound camaraderie. How might their parents’ choice of lodging affect it? “Do you want to live with Allamu?”
“Ima! Abba!” Kezia shouted from the villa courtyard. “Hurry! Shesh and the children will be anxious to see you.”
“We should go.” His wife offered a wan smile. “But I’d like to talk with you alone about it before we announce a decision.”
Daniel chuckled inwardly. What a wonderful conundrum to be so desired by one’s children that they must choose.
As they approached the villa, he was overwhelmed to see every member of their family—including Mert—standing at the courtyard gate to welcome him. The grandchildren and great-grands celebrated with cheering and dancing, while Mert greeted Allamu with a hug and Shesh swept Kezia into his arms.
With every embrace, every kiss, every encouraging word, Daniel wondered, Who among them will be left when the remnant leaves for Jerusalem? He staggered back at the thought, feeling his own mind had betrayed him. Wouldn’t Belili and he also be among the remnant?
Belili steadied him. “Are you all right, love?”
“Yes, yes. Just a little dizzy.”
Daniel’s family snapped into action as if he’d fallen down dead. Mert, of course, took charge. “A little gruel will fix you. Kezia, you and your sisters set bowls on the table. Grandchildren, follow me. Today we feast again!”
Allamu watched them and chuckled. “At least Mert didn’t make me set the bowls this time.”
“Allamu,” Mert called out. “You’re going to the market for feasting supplies.”
Daniel and Belili laughed with him, but before he obeyed Mert, he clamped Daniel’s shoulder. “I’ve offered that you and Mother can stay at my villa, but I see the laughter and love you have here. Please don’t feel obligated. This is your home, and I’ll visit as often as I can.” He was gone before they could answer.
Belili squeezed Daniel’s waist and looked up with joy sparkling in her eyes. “Our cup overflows with blessing, Daniel ben Johanan, and Yahweh has given you back to me again.”
He kissed her forehead and hugged her to his side. “We have so many gifts, my love, but I believe God is teaching us both to hold them loosely.”
45
I am the LORD, the Maker of all things,…who says of Cyrus, “He is my shepherd and will accomplish all that I please; he will say of Jerusalem, ‘Let it be rebuilt,’ and of the temple, ‘Let its foundations be laid.’ ”
—ISAIAH 44:24, 28
One Week Later
Since Daniel was no longer chief of Babylon’s Chaldeans or King Darius’s chosen administrator, he’d spent the past seven days teaching their grandchildren lessons of immense national import.
“Saba, where did the elephants poop while they were on the ark?” Little Daniel, his four-year-old namesake, studied him with intense dark eyes.
“Anywhere they wanted.” The reply tickled his fifteen giggling students, soothing the ache in his soul that grew stronger each day. Shesh and the elders had begun the necessary processes of coordinating an empire-wide search for willing Hebrews to return to Jerusalem.
Was it the palace activity he missed, or was it a gnawing unrest to return to Jerusalem? Since the day of Yahweh’s deliverance, Daniel had prayed fervently for Yahweh’s clear direction. Were he and Abigail to return to the land of their birth? Or had he been called to teach future generations the foundational knowledge on which Jerusalem and its Temple must be built?
“Who wants bread and date paste?” Abigail stole his class’s roving attention with her tray of morning snacks. She lit up when the children crowded around her at the table, clamoring to see what treasures she bore on the silver tray. She had become Abigail again, free to love in a way Belili never dared. Yet she was still his Belili, with the strength and courage that Abigail never possessed. He loved her regardless of the name, but because her heart had
changed, she now wished to be called Abigail—the name of the girl who had won his heart.
“We must all say thank you to Savta.” Daniel delighted in the chorus of fifteen grateful voices.
Abigail bowed, then tickled, hugged, and snuggled children as she walked over to Daniel. She pulled a small rolled parchment from her pocket, laid it in his hand, and held it there. “It bears Cyrus’s seal.”
Her words both excited and concerned him. He had no desire to be drawn back into the web of an empire led by two such strong men.
“Open it.” Abigail removed her hand.
Daniel’s stomach clenched as he slid his finger beneath the wax seal and unfurled the short missive:
From King Cyrus the Great. Emperor of the World and King of All.
To Daniel ben Johanan.
It pleases me to speak with you and Mistress Belili immediately at Allamu’s villa.
He handed the small scroll to his wife, giving her a moment to read it. “Why meet at Allamu’s? And why no processional when he entered the city?”
Brows furrowed, she rolled it and returned it to him. “Why summon both of us?”
“I have no answers,” he said with a sigh. No one could know the mind of Cyrus the Great.
Abigail found Kezia, who agreed to finish the children’s lessons, giving Daniel and his wife time to change into formal robes. His feet had remained healthy through Mert’s diligent dietary care, so they would walk to Allamu’s villa on the other side of the Way. Springtime in Babylon was spectacular, but Abigail nearly ruined their peaceful stroll by speculating on the gravity of Cyrus’s clandestine arrival.
“Allamu didn’t mention Cyrus’s visit at last night’s meal. Do you think he knew, or did the emperor surprise even the new chief administrator? Does King Darius even know Cyrus is here?” She gasped and pulled Daniel to a stop. “Don’t let Cyrus snare you back into palace politics.”
He framed her cheeks. “I’ll do what Yahweh asks of me, my love. Remember David. He tended sheep. He slew a giant. He played a harp for King Saul. He was faithful in all this before he became king.”
“And he lived in constant fear for his life during the last years of Saul’s reign.”
Daniel kissed her nose and sighed. “Do you suppose what awaits us at Allamu’s villa is worse than lions?” His wife’s wrinkled brow changed to a rueful grin, and they resumed their walk.
The guards at the palace gate greeted them both by name as they walked past. As they continued down the street toward Allamu’s villa, a slight breeze stirred the palm fronds and sent gentle ripples across the river next to his courtyard. Daniel pushed open the gate, but Abigail’s grip tightened when only Allamu’s guards greeted them. If the king were in residence, where were his bodyguards?
“Prosperity and honor to the empire,” Daniel said, suspicion rising.
Allamu’s men bowed. “Prosperity and honor to the empire, Daniel ben Johanan. Lord Allamu is expecting you.”
Daniel nodded, clutching Abigail’s entwined arm tightly. Why was there no servant to escort them to the audience chamber? Cautiously, they walked through Allamu’s outer courtyard, following the sound of voices.
When they arrived at the doorway of the audience chamber, the mystery was solved. All of Allamu’s servants were serving their master and his guest. King Cyrus and Allamu were so deep in conversation, they hadn’t noticed their guests’ arrival. Daniel cleared his throat.
“Lord Belt—” Cyrus stumbled over the title but waved it away, embracing the new name. “Daniel ben Johanan. We’ve been expecting you and Mistress Belili. Welcome to you both.”
A measure of relief relaxed Abigail’s grip on Daniel’s arm and sent them both to cushions around a low-lying table, where the king and Allamu were already seated. Daniel sat on the king’s right side and Abigail on his left.
“Wine for my ima and Daniel.” Allamu cast them a meaningful glance after using their Hebrew titles. Daniel nodded calm approval, though his heart did a flip.
King Cyrus, oblivious to the tender moment, eagerly began his agenda. “I called you both here—”
“My king,” Daniel interrupted, “might I ask how you entered the city without being noticed and why we’re meeting here—rather than the palace—without your royal escort?”
“I see you’re still Belteshazzar, protector of the king.” He chuckled. “I sent word to Darius alone. My fifty-man escort entered the city last night, and my royal guards are here, I assure you.” At his words, fifteen men stepped out of the shadows like specters from Sheol.
Abigail gasped, but Daniel grinned. “Very effective, my king, but why the secrecy, and why meet here at our son’s villa?”
“What I have to say is…delicate. Even at the palace, the walls have ears.”
Daniel didn’t appreciate the position in which he’d placed Allamu. A man could get crushed between two powerful kings. “Am I to understand, then, that what you’re about to say is something you wish to keep from Darius?”
“Oh no. Darius will know exactly what we decide. I simply don’t wish to offend him in the way I decide it.”
“I see.” Indeed, Daniel understood the undercurrents too well. The divided Medo-Persian kingdom was beginning to show its cracks. Yahweh, keep Allamu safe when it crumbles.
The king turned to Abigail. “Mistress Belili, I brought you here to apologize in person for the mistakes of King Darius during the Hidati festival. Though noble in his effort to unite, Darius was too inexperienced in ruling to recognize the manipulation of his council members. Darius will restore the Akitu festival next year for Babylon and Borsippa, as tradition demands, rendering the law of Hidati obsolete. He learned a hard lesson, unfortunately, at Daniel’s expense. The responsible council members and their families have been disposed of.” The emperor bowed his head to Belili, proving his sincerity.
Daniel held his breath, wondering if his outspoken wife would chastise the emperor for Darius’s rash execution of the noblemen and their families, but she didn’t. Instead, she rested her hand on Cyrus’s forearm and squeezed it gently. “You need not apologize, my king. I daresay we all experienced things that night we’ll never forget.”
He returned her gracious smile. “Indeed, I learned of your god’s power, though I wasn’t even here. I received Darius’s messages and was so intrigued by Daniel’s miraculous deliverance that I desired to know more of your Hebrew god.” He turned his attention to Daniel. “That’s why I brought you and Belili here today, my friend. I believe your god has chosen me to send a delegation of your people back to Jerusalem.”
Daniel choked on his wine, thinking surely he’d misheard. Still sputtering, he set down the goblet. “Could you repeat that, my king?”
A servant dabbed the spilled wine from Daniel’s robe, while Cyrus’s grin stretched ear to ear. “I thought you might react that way. You heard me correctly, Daniel. Your god chose me to send this delegation back to Jerusalem.”
The amusement in his voice coaxed the obvious question from Daniel. “How did you come to such a conclusion, my king?”
He took an excruciatingly slow draw of wine before explaining. “After hearing Darius’s wild claims about your deliverance from the lions, I remembered the old Hebrew scrolls Nebuchadnezzar had given to my grandfather Astyages. Grandfather sometimes read them when he couldn’t sleep.”
Daniel grinned. “I can see how some might find the scrolls boring if the subject matter is unfamiliar.”
“I began reading the scrolls written by your prophet Moses and soon found a scroll written by your prophet Isaiah,” Cyrus said, his voice softening with wonder. “Daniel, have you read his scroll?”
“My sons-in-law recently discovered a few of his writings in one of the temples here in Babylon, but I was a boy in Jerusalem when I last had access to the full writings of Isaiah.” He hoped the hint wou
ld move Cyrus to donate his scrolls to the burgeoning collection in Daniel’s library. “Isaiah was a distant relative of mine. We are both descended from the tribe of Judah.”
Cyrus looked at Daniel with unfiltered awe. “Now I know why you hear the voice of your god. You are like the Magoi, a chosen tribe among your people.”
Daniel wanted to clarify the differences between Judah and the Magoi, but Cyrus’s intensity overwhelmed him.
Cyrus rested his elbows on the table and held his head with both hands. “I myself can barely believe what I’m about to say.” He shook his head. “Isaiah spoke of me in his prophecies, Daniel. He called me by name. He said I would return people to Jerusalem so that it would again be inhabited. He said I would allow it to be rebuilt and the foundations of a new temple laid.”
With shock equaling the king’s, Daniel looked to Allamu for clarification and found Abigail’s son’s face alight with anticipation. Allamu removed a scroll from beneath the table, unrolled it, and pointed to a section already marked. Abigail rose to her knees and leaned over the table while Daniel read it aloud: “…who says of Cyrus, ‘He is my shepherd and will accomplish all that I please; he will say of Jerusalem, “Let it be rebuilt,” and of the temple, “Let its foundations be laid.” ’ ”
“See?” Cyrus said with a satisfied grin. “Even your god knows Cyrus the Great.”
Daniel sat back. Breathless. Speechless. Awed at the sovereignty of his God. Letting the significance of this moment settle into his spirit. “Consider, King Cyrus, every detail Yahweh orchestrated to bring you to this moment in history. The generations past and present. Every detail of your life and others around you to give you the world’s thrones so you can do this marvelous thing.” He watched the king’s smug expression fade as the Creator’s sovereignty took root.
It was time to ask the question Isaiah didn’t predict the answer to. “Will you choose the delegation yourself, my king? Or will you allow any Hebrew who longs for Jerusalem to go back?” The hairs on the back of Daniel’s neck stood on end. Perhaps this was the way Yahweh would reveal His will for him and Abigail. If Cyrus commanded them to go, their decision was made.
