by Brian Godawa
“The doctor I told you about, Alexander Maccabaeus, writes this letter for me as I am unable. And he will seek to deliver it to you. He is the one I betrayed the most, and yet he is the one who has forgiven me most. Ask him anything. I have trusted him with my life.”
Thelonius noticed Alexander wipe tears from his blurry eyes.
“Fear not, Alexander, I go to my reward. I only ask that you tell Livia the truth about me. The whole truth. Leave no sin out, for I have nothing to hide. Let grace abound even more.”
Alexander finished the letter, and Thelonius signed his name with his trembling hand.
He then looked up at Alexander and said, “Thank you, my brother, for all you have done for me.”
“All you have done for me,” replied the doctor. “And for the kingdom of God.”
“I have not done enough. I only wish God had given me more time to save more people from the fires of Gehenna to make up for those I sent there.”
“It is not up to us to save anyone, Thelonius. We trust and obey.”
“His will be done,” agreed Thelonius. “Please greet Cassandra with my love. She trusted and obeyed, and Jesus saved me.”
They embraced one last time.
CHAPTER 44
Simon was awakened by Aaron in his war room. He had fallen asleep on the map trying to consider every possible strategy for achieving his goal and leaving the city. It became more difficult with each advance of Titus’s forces. These had breached the second wall and occupied the Tyropoeon valley adjacent to the temple.
At least he’d uncovered the traitor who had helped Tiberius gain access to the city center. That this would prove to be a Roman spy was rather unexpected, but the traitor’s confession of past visits to Jerusalem explained his knowledge of the city’s streets and alleys.
In truth, he could almost wish the spy had not given himself up, since this had prevented Simon from enacting further reduction of the city’s food rations. As result, now even his own men were going hungry.
Simon was now headquartered in the tower of Phasael, one of the three strongest fortifications of Herod’s palace on the western wall of the city. The palace had been thrashed by Zealots and Sicarii, but the three towers would most likely never be breached. They were towers of great strength.
“Simon, come quickly,” said Aaron. “You have to see this.”
Simon shook himself awake and followed his lieutenant to the other side of the tower.
They entered a room, and Aaron led Simon up to a small window. They were about a hundred feet high and could easily see the entire city, including the Mishneh quarter just adjacent to the Herodian palace they guarded.
Simon looked out and saw a horrible sight. Titus had crucified his hundred captured Jewish warriors. They were lined up along the wall on timber-shaped “Xs” and “Ts”. Most of them were still alive, suffering in great pain and agony. Crucifixion could take days for the victim to finally suffocate or dehydrate to death. It was one of the most vicious forms of punishment imaginable. And Titus was using it to strike fear into the hearts of the surviving Jewish defenders of the city.181
Simon whispered painfully, “Are there no bounds to his cruelty?”
Aaron hissed, “Titus is a son of the devil.”
Simon turned and marched out of the room. Aaron briskly followed him down the stairs.
He asked after him, “What are you going to do, sir?”
“Give Titus my response.”
• • • • •
Berenice lay in Titus’s bed and wept. She had tried to stop Caesar, persuade him to use a different strategy. It had been futile. War brought out the worst in men. No behavior was out of bounds. Everything was possible, no matter how evil or inhuman. The absolute worst of human nature expressed itself in such times.
When Titus had crucified the hundred Jewish warriors, Berenice had refused to sleep with her lover, so he’d taken her by force. He had never been so violent with her before. She was frightened to the core of her being.
They had shared a passionate sexuality that she’d thought helped her to influence the power of the beast. But now she was reminded that power was an untamable god. And she wept for herself as much as for her countrymen.
The sound of a distant Jewish ram’s horn caught her attention. She immediately snapped up, put on her tunic and robe, and ran outside to see what it was.
She arrived outside the war tent just behind Titus, who was standing with Tiberius, Josephus, and Agrippa. They looked out onto the second wall that guarded the Upper City a couple hundred yards away.
Simon and his lieutenant stood on the battlement with his guards. Beside each soldier was a captured Roman legionary bound in ropes. There were about fifty of them.
“Flavius Titus Caesar!” Simon yelled with a voice full of fury and ironic contempt, “your display of might is terrifying! We offer a sacrifice to you as Imperator, the son of Caesar, son of the gods!”
He gestured to his men, who then got behind the captives and pushed each of them off the wall into the valley.
The fall of all fifty captives was stopped short by the ropes around their necks. They jerked to a bouncing halt, snapping their spines and killing them all instantly.
Berenice felt her own soul snapped within her. Romans or not, these were human beings extinguished in an act of revenge. This was the world she was trying to negotiate. A world of vengeance and unimaginable horror. It continued to tear her apart.
Titus said, “I will drag Simon bar Giora alive through the streets of Rome.” Then he noticed something. “There is a sign on one of the bodies. What does it say?”
Josephus read it. “Spy.”
Titus stepped forward, looking closer at the corpse of the spy. “He looks familiar.”
Josephus said, “I believe it is the Roman Thelonius Severus.”
“The one who helped us find the Christians?” asked Titus. “I thought he returned to Rome.”
Tiberius said dryly, “Apparently not.”
“Well, whatever the case, I reject their sacrifice.” Titus was smirking, trying to make light. Tiberius dutifully smiled.
The dark humor faded. “Start the catapults again. Let us see how they hold up beneath the wrath of their new god.”
CHAPTER 45
Mount Hermon
Apollyon stood at the summit of Hermon with Chaser, Ba’al’s heavenly spear, in his hands pointed to the heavens. Marduk waited for him at the base of the mountain with his chariot and horses.
Black storm clouds swirled overhead with rumbling thunder ready to split the sky. His eyes closed tightly, Apollyon continued to chant the words of the ancient tongue. He had been engaging in an occult incantation of allurement since the sun had gone down.
He was drawing forth his final army.
The angels had ambushed the gods of the nations in Jerusalem, so he could only imagine what surprise was waiting for him inside Yahweh’s temple. Evidently, the heavenly despot had gone back on his word and was not going to let the dragon take his prize without a fight.
But it was not hard to figure out. The temple housed the Holy of Holies, the very throne of God. So Apollyon expected Yahweh’s throne guardians to be awaiting him in the unseen realm of Jerusalem’s temple mount: seraphim, cherubim, and ophanim. These were the mightiest of Yahweh’s heavenly host. It would not be an easy task to get through them to the temple. Apollyon would have to match them in force and power.
So he was on his cosmic mountain drawing throne guardians from every Gentile nation on the earth: Greece, Egypt, Assyria, Mesopotamia. He owned them all. He was the god of Rome. And he would call upon the mightiest of his servants to counter the mightiest of Yahweh’s.
A huge bolt of lightning shot down from the heavens and connected to the spear like a surge of conducting energy. The heavenly weapon absorbed the lightning, and Apollyon absorbed the power into his being.
He shouted their names into the storm. The winds took his command to the four corners
of the earth. “Griffins! Sphinxes! Lamassu! Mushussu! Come forth to your lord Apollyon. Prepare for battle!”
It would take some time for the divine creatures to come from the four winds, but they would hear the call, and he would soon have his army of mighty throne guardians for his final battle.
CHAPTER 46
Jerusalem
July, AD 70
Berenice, Agrippa, and Josephus followed Titus and Tiberius around the conquered area of the Mishneh quarter as the catapults were wheeled into place. They surveyed the walls of the temple mount, as impregnable as the outer city walls. They inspected the Antonia fortress on the northwest end of the temple. They ended up before a large granary that had been burned to the ground some time ago.
Titus asked Tiberius, “Did we burn these down?”
“No, my lord.”
Titus displayed curiosity. “I saw some others in the New City that were also destroyed. Not by us.”
Josephus offered the explanation. “The consequence of civil war. They were burning each other’s food supplies in vengeance.”
“And what of the quarters they hold now?” Titus asked.
“Most of those have lost their food supplies as well,” said Josephus.
Titus muttered with contempt, “Fools.” Then he turned to his tribune. “Tiberius, let us have a feast in the officer’s mess hall tonight.”
“Yes, Caesar.” Tiberius rode off to the New City, where Titus’s new headquarters remained safely behind the battle lines.
• • • • •
The sound of catapult stones hitting structures in the Upper City could be heard even this distance away in the New City. Berenice sat beside her brother and Josephus at Titus’s table in the officer’s mess hall. The tables were stocked with pork, fowl, vegetables, figs, and wine.
Berenice winced at the pig roasted whole sitting before them. It was unclean meat and forbidden by her religion. But her brother had no shame in taking the pork and mixing it in with his fowl. He had always had trouble keeping kosher diet because of his love of food and drink. He would play the part in Jewish public, but they were in Roman company now, and it wouldn’t even be noticed. Except by Berenice and Josephus, who because of their own compromise with Rome could say nothing.
Berenice could not help but think of the Maccabees and how they had died rather than eat the pork forced upon them by the Greek pagan king Antiochus Epiphanes. Their conviction of conscience had eventually led them to the courage of victory against their oppressors. She felt ashamed at the memory of her ancestors. Was this a portent of failure for this generation?
One of the tribunes approached the table and saluted Titus with hand out. “Caesar,” he asked, “will you be using Victor against the Antonia soon?”
Titus took a deep gulp of wine. “Eventually.”
They had rebuilt the huge battering ram of that nickname with the iron head that had survived the ashes of its destruction at the walls. The tribune gave him a curious look.
Titus explained, “Evidently, the warring factions within the city destroyed their own food supply some time ago. They are already starving to death. So I am going to let them do so.”
Berenice felt fear flood her body. The three Jews looked at one another with shock. She blurted out, “Caesar, please. You cannot do that.”
Titus looked at Josephus. “You will have your temple.” He shifted his gaze to Berenice and Agrippa. “And you will have a broken people easily ruled.”
Berenice heard her brother mutter to her, “Dead people are not ruled.” She pled with the imperator, “It will be innocent women and children who suffer most.”
Tiberius joined in with gruff dismissal, “Innocent women and children had their chance to leave the city long ago. Many already have.”
Berenice felt the food in her stomach rise up in her throat.
Titus added with a grim smirk, “I have heard your god has rained down bread from heaven in the past. Let us see if he cares enough to do so again.”182
Berenice looked away. She couldn’t look into his face. He had become the shadow of an ugly creature to her.
Titus said to Tiberius, “Take two legions of soldiers and build a stone blockade around the entire city. Man it with sentries all about. I don’t want anyone trying to escape now.”
“Yes, Caesar,” came the reply. And he left immediately.
Berenice’s only thoughts were horror. She had sought to sympathize with Rome, build a bridge. She should have built a wall.
Am I a traitor to my people? How many will starve to death because of what I have done? Can God above forgive me?
CHAPTER 47
The night was cool, the moon waxing overhead. Apollyon had not yet returned to Jerusalem with Marduk, so his remaining principalities prepared for the plan they had received from their master. Ares and Zeus crept silently behind enemy lines of the Lower City in search of the Two Witnesses. Azazel stayed with his ward Titus in the newly conquered Mishneh quarter.
Ares and Zeus found their targets approaching the north wall, still guarded by the four angels: Michael, Gabriel, Uriel, and Raphael. The Watchers stayed hidden in the shadows, awaiting their moment.
• • • • •
Simon and Aaron sat at a fire with Simcha and some of their soldiers by the gate of the Upper City. Simon would often sit and visit with his men to encourage them. But tonight was a difficult one. Boulders were flying into the city from the Roman catapults, demolishing structures with loud crashes.
Aaron had been trying to distract them with a description of his strange disciplined life at Qumran—endless baptisms, scribal duties, and the austere life of monks. But when one of the soldiers asked what had happened to the village, the atmosphere quickly turned dour as Aaron admitted the community’s fate at the hands of the Romans.
One of the soldiers stood up and sniffed the air deeply. “Do you smell that? It’s food cooking.”
Simon could smell it now. The scent was wafting over the wall.
Another soldier said, “It’s coming from the Roman camp.”
A third complained, “They’re taunting us. They know we have no rations left.”
A teenaged soldier held his stomach in pain and groaned. Simon placed his hand reassuringly on the lad’s shoulder.
Aaron whispered to Simon, “We won’t last long without food.”
Simon whispered back, “What about your faith, monk? Won’t that last you?”
Aaron looked away.
But everyone’s attention was taken by the presence of the Two Witnesses walking on the wall above them. The older one proclaimed, “Woe, woe, woe to the city again and to the people and to the holy house!”183
The younger one picked up the lament, “Woe, woe, woe to those who dwell on the land. Two angels have blown their trumpets. The second woe is passed. The third is coming.”184
A soldier complained, “What the hell are they talking about? Will someone shut them up?”
Another shouted, “We have tolerated their loud mouths long enough!”
Another yelled, “Three and a half long years! 42 months! 1260 days! They’re driving me mad with anger!”185
Then, as if the two prophets had heard them, the Witnesses stopped and looked down upon the soldiers. Moshe announced, “Woe, woe, woe to us as well!” They turned back to face the Romans outside the walls.
One of the Jewish defenders shouted back, “Woe to your wives, who are less nags than you are!”
A burst of laughter rang out amongst the soldiers.
As Simon and his men mocked the Witnesses, they had no idea what was happening in the unseen realm. The two prophets were flanked on the battlement by two angels on each side. As Elihu and Moshe proclaimed their woes, Ares came at them from one side of the battlement and Zeus from the other.
The two gods drew the angels into combat.
Zeus was the Greek king of the gods and Ares the mighty Roman god of war. But they would be no match for the four archangels who pr
otected the Witnesses.
It was an act of suicide.
Ares attacked Michael and Raphael. Zeus charged at Gabriel and Uriel. Swords clanged with the sound of thunder in the heavenlies.
The angels pushed each of the gods back. But because the battlement was narrow, they could only face their enemies head on.
Ares swung his weapon with a fury never before seen by Michael and Raphael. They barely kept up with the strikes. It was as if Ares had summoned every ounce of strength in his being for one final charge.
Zeus called down bolts of lightning from heaven and launched them at his opponents. Gabriel and Uriel had to deflect the incoming blasts with their own heavenly blades. But the surges worked to weaken their arms.
That was when the angels realized they had been drawn away from the Two Witnesses, who now stood unprotected on the battlement.
Uriel shouted, “The Beast!”
At that moment they turned to see Azazel far behind the Roman line direct two catapults at his intended targets.
The stones launched.
The gods jumped off the wall onto the Roman side.
Before the angels could return to their wards, the two catapult stones hit the Two Witnesses, propelling them into the air off the wall and down to the ground forty feet below.
They landed with a splatter of blood not far from the Jewish defenders’ campfire.
The angels jumped down to the ground near them.
The sound of Michael’s guttural yell of agony resounded in the heavens.
The Witnesses were dead. Yahweh’s anointed messengers. And under Michael’s watch, no less.
