The Chronicles of the Kings Collection

by Lynn Austin

  Yahweh was supposed to guard the steps of those who loved Him. He was supposed to reward the righteous and punish the wicked. A week ago it had all seemed true. A week ago life had made sense. Now the world was spinning out of Yahweh’s control.

  Joshua’s best friend had turned against him for no reason. His father, grandfather, and sister were all dead—three innocent people. Joshua had killed three more innocent people today. His family was destitute and fleeing for their lives. Where was Yahweh in all of this? How many more people would have to die before God set things right again?

  The Temple in Jerusalem seemed far away—part of another world of reason and purpose. Away from God, away from His sanctuary, the world was filled with murder and chaos. As the cart jolted down the road toward the border, Joshua wept until he fell into an exhausted sleep.

  He awoke again when the cart came to a stop, and he rubbed his swollen eyes. Sunlight no longer filtered through the cracks. He felt the weight on his back growing lighter as the grain and produce were lifted off, then his brother reached in to help him climb out. Joshua could scarcely move. His muscles had grown stiff, like the dried blood on his clothes. Millions of stars filled the night sky.

  “Where are we?” he asked.

  “In Moab. We’re safe, Joshua. All of us.”

  9

  “I want to hear the entire story in your own words,” King Manasseh demanded. He glared at the three guards who stood trembling before his throne.

  The first soldier drew a shaky breath. “My partner and I were in the marketplace, guarding the woman and her child, when a well-dressed man ran up to us, shouting that he had been robbed. We refused to help him at first, but he was so insistent that I finally decided to chase the thief.”

  “If you didn’t witness this crime, how did you know who you were chasing?”

  “I didn’t know, Your Majesty.”

  “Yet you abandoned the conspirator’s wife, whom you had been assigned to guard, and ran after an invisible thief?”

  “I trusted my partner to keep an eye on her.” He glanced accusingly at the soldier beside him.

  Manasseh addressed the second guard. “So. If you had enough sense to stay with your prisoner, how did she get away?”

  “Your Majesty, the man who claimed he had been robbed caused a huge scene. In all the excitement someone switched places with her. When I saw her moving away I followed her, but it was the wrong woman.”

  “And where is this other woman?”

  “She vanished, Your Majesty.”

  “What a pair of fools!” Manasseh shook his head in disgust, then turned to the third guard. “Why did you leave your post?”

  “They used the same trick, Your Majesty. I saw two street urchins robbing a very well-dressed man of his silver pouch. My partner and I chased them. The thieves were only boys. I figured we would catch them in no time. My partner caught the smaller one and carried him back to the house. I kept chasing the other kid.”

  “Did you catch him?”

  “No, Your Majesty. He was too quick for me, so I returned to my post.” He wiped the sweat from his brow and swallowed. “By the time I got back, my partner was dead. I can’t even describe what they did to him. It was inhuman. They also killed the soldier who’d been guarding the back door. Everyone in the house escaped.”

  “Can you describe any of these terrorists?”

  “The same man posed as the robbery victim both times. Dark complexion, silver hair and beard. Some caravan drivers found his body along the road outside of Anathoth. I think my partner must have wounded him—there was blood on his sword. But no one seems to know who the man was.”

  Manasseh’s frustration mounted. “All three of you knew Joshua ben Eliakim. That’s why you were assigned to guard his family. Will you swear to me that you didn’t see him? That none of you helped him?”

  “Yes, we swear!”

  “And you found no evidence at all that would identify who was behind this?”

  The soldiers exchanged looks. “When we searched the marketplace we found this. It was wrapped inside the woman’s head scarf.”

  “And I found one exactly like it inside the house in Anathoth. It’s just an ordinary potsherd, but it has a picture on one side. It looks like some sort of cow or bull. . . .”

  All the blood in Manasseh’s veins seemed to stop flowing. “Give it to me.” He stared down at the drawing of an ox. He had seen it before, countless times. Joshua would scribble the picture in the margins of his notes or doodle it on a clay tablet when he was bored. They had joked that one day they would have the design made into a signet ring.

  Manasseh handed it to his brother, seated beside him. “Now do you believe that Joshua is part of this conspiracy?”

  “It’s Joshua’s ox,” Amariah murmured.

  When he was in control of his emotions again, Manasseh turned back to the three trembling soldiers. “Joshua’s nickname is ‘Ox.’ You were this close to him, and you let him escape. For that, I sentence all three of you to death.”

  As Manasseh watched the soldiers being dragged away, his fears began multiplying rapidly. Joshua was too clever for him. He had outsmarted Manasseh’s best soldiers. Where would he strike next?

  “But I don’t understand,” Amariah said. “Who could have killed those two soldiers? Joshua hated military training. He was almost as bad at combat as I was. He could never kill anyone, especially two armed soldiers.”

  Manasseh knew his brother was right. But that led to an even more frightening conclusion—someone was helping Joshua. Someone powerful. How could Manasseh win back the advantage?

  “Find Zerah ben Abner,” he told his chamberlain. “Bring him here to me at once.”

  “How’s your wrist?” Manasseh asked as Zerah bowed before him.

  “It’s healing well, thank you.”

  “I need your help, Zerah. I need guidance—a word from God about what I should do. But I can’t go to the Temple priests. You were right, they’re working for my enemies.”

  “I would be honored to help you, Your Majesty. What would you like me to do?”

  Manasseh hesitated, wary of doing anything that might violate the Torah. He wished he was more confident in his knowledge of the Law, but he had always relied on Joshua to remember the finer points.

  “I’m not sure what I should do,” he began. “But like King David, I have an enemy. I fear he may be seeking my life.”

  “I understand, Your Majesty. And you should do the same thing King David did. Invoke God’s curse on him.”

  Manasseh struggled to disguise his shock at such an outrageous suggestion. Beside him, Amariah shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Who is this man?” Amariah asked. “Why are you listening to him? You shouldn’t get involved with this stuff. The Torah says—”

  “Excuse me, Prince Amariah, but you’ve been misled about what the Torah says.” Zerah’s intense, commanding gaze silenced the prince. “Many of David’s psalms are curse formulas. For example, these words: ‘May those who seek my life be disgraced and put to shame; may those who plot my ruin be turned back in dismay. May they be like chaff before the wind, with the angel of the Lord driving them away; may their path be dark and slippery, with the angel of the Lord pursuing them.’”

  “I don’t want any part of this,” Amariah said. He started to rise.

  “Sit down!” Manasseh ordered. “You’ll stay until I tell you to go.” He turned to Zerah. “How can I enlist Yahweh’s help without going through the Temple priests?”

  “I am a priest, Your Majesty. A true priest. I know the curses as well as the high priest does. I will perform the ceremony for you. But I’ll need some information first. Do you have something I can write on? I’ll need to take notes.”

  Manasseh felt relieved to receive help against his enemy. Joshua was too clever for him, too formidable a foe to fight alone. He seated Zerah beside him in Eliakim’s chair and had parchment and ink brought to him.

  “Now, tell me ab
out your enemy, Your Majesty. Start with when he was born.”

  “He was born in the springtime, in the first month. Just before Passover.” Zerah stopped writing and looked up in alarm. “Is something wrong?” Manasseh asked.

  “That means he was born under the sign of the ram.”

  “Is that significant?”

  “It might confirm my suspicions, Your Majesty. He might be the promised son Isaiah referred to in his prophecies. You see, Abraham’s promised son, Isaac, was also born under the sign of the ram. That’s why the ram caught in the thicket could take his place.”

  Manasseh leaned back on his throne, taking a moment to digest this upsetting news. Had Joshua been educated beside him all these years so that he could usurp his throne? He wondered when they planned for this coup to take place. “What else do you need to know?” he said at last.

  “Was he born before or after the spring equinox?”

  “Let me think. . . . It must have been after because he was eight days old on the day of the Passover feast. He always bragged that he was circumcised on Passover.”

  “So he received the sign of the covenant on the day of our national liberation,” Zerah mused to himself. “That’s more than a coincidence. That would have been a powerful sign to them. And Passover would have meant a full moon. He would have been born between the equinox and the full moon, two more very powerful signs.” He looked up at Manasseh again. “You must understand, Your Majesty, that the position of the moon and stars at the time of his birth are very important omens. Isaiah surely knew all of these mysteries, too. Were there any unusual circumstances surrounding his birth? These would be crucial elements in foretelling his future.”

  Manasseh felt a wave of dread. He had heard the story of Joshua’s birth so many times he had grown sick of it. Now it terrified him. He folded his hands on his lap so Zerah wouldn’t see them shaking. “He was born on the day the Assyrians first surrounded Jerusalem. He came almost a month prematurely.”

  Zerah stopped writing again and stared at Manasseh. “Yet he lived?”

  “He lived. That’s why he was named Joshua—’Yahweh saves.’ On Passover night he stopped breathing. His father breathed his own life into him.”

  “Yes, of course. It all fits. Lord Eliakim had powers, too. You did well to eliminate him before he used them against you.”

  “One more thing, Zerah. Joshua was born backward—feet first.”

  Zerah laid the parchment on the small table between them. “I won’t lie to you, Your Majesty. You are wise to fear this enemy. These are all very powerful omens. Any one of them would be daunting, but in combination . . .” He shook his head in awe. “I may need to enlist the help of my fellow priests. I don’t know how to ask this, but in order to invoke God’s power on your behalf, we’ll need a place to worship.”

  Deep uneasiness filled Manasseh. “What are you saying? Do you want to use the Temple?”

  “No, the sanctuary is under your enemies’ control at the moment. We need permission to worship on the high places again.”

  “Will you be worshiping Yahweh?”

  “Yes, of course. But we’ll worship Him the way Father Abraham did.”

  “All right. I’ll cancel my father’s decree forbidding worship on the high places.”

  Amariah stared at him. “Manasseh, you can’t—”

  “Shut up! You have no idea what kind of powers we’re up against!” He turned to Zerah again. “Will you need anything else?”

  “I’ll need something that once belonged to him, something personal.”

  “The guards can direct you to his house. Take whatever you want out of it. In fact, since I’ve confiscated all of his family’s property, you may move into his house if you want to.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty. That’s very generous of you. One more thing, though. I’ll need to know your enemy’s greatest weakness, where he might be most vulnerable to attack with a curse.”

  “You mean physical weaknesses?”

  “We can start with those, yes.”

  Manasseh smiled as relief flooded through him. “That’s easy. He suffers from attacks where he can’t catch his breath. He nearly died from such attacks once or twice.”

  “Good. Then he isn’t invincible.”

  “And there’s one other area where he’s vulnerable. His family is very important to him. They are very close-knit. He helped his mother, his sister, and his brother escape, along with their families. He snatched them right out of my soldiers’ hands.”

  “Family ties can be a powerful motivator, Your Majesty.”

  “Yes, but he didn’t rescue his younger sister. I have her here in my palace.”

  Amariah nearly jumped from his seat. “Dinah? You brought Dinah here? Manasseh, why?”

  “I’ve made her my concubine.”

  Amariah moaned.

  “A wise move, Your Majesty. Very wise,” Zerah said. “This union with your enemies will be a source of great power for you. It will be difficult for Joshua ben Eliakim to seek the destruction of your heirs if they are also his nephews.”

  As the sky grew bright with stars, Dinah began to tremble. It was almost time. Manasseh would be here soon. If only she had died with her grandfather.

  Dinah knew it was a great sin to kill herself. But surely God would forgive her for not wanting to live this way. This wasn’t life—this was torture. All alone, day after day, locked in this room. How long had it been now? She should keep track of the days, making a scratch on the wall like other prisoners did. But every day was the same as the last. The servants brought three meals, the sun rose and set, Manasseh returned.

  In all this time, no one had spoken to Dinah. She had begged the servants to say something so she could hear another voice besides her own, but they silently hurried in and out of her room, staring at the floor in fear, eager to leave again. They were as terrified of the king as she was. Manasseh hadn’t spoken to her since that first terrible night either. He knew Dinah had grown up in a boisterous family with plenty of noise and laughter and love, and he was trying to break down her resistance with silence. If the torture didn’t end soon, Dinah feared she would go insane.

  When she peered between the slats of the shutters she could glimpse the world beyond her window, a world of blue sky and white clouds and soaring birds. She knew she was on the second floor of the palace because she recognized King Ahaz’s clock tower in the courtyard outside her window. On days when the sun shone she could watch the shadow crawl up and down the spiral stairs. Night would follow when it reached the bottom, and Manasseh would return. If only he would kill her. Then God would welcome her to paradise.

  Where was Abba? Didn’t he know Manasseh was holding her here? She looked for her father every day among the officials in the palace courtyard below her window, but she never saw him. Dinah was afraid for him. Abba would never allow Manasseh to do this to her. He would die before he would let any harm to come to his children. Either Abba didn’t know where she was or something terrible had happened to him.

  What would he tell her to do if he were here? Dinah closed her eyes and tried to picture him coming through the door. Abba—so tall and distinguished-looking with the waves of gray in his rumpled hair and beard. He would smile at her and she would see the tender love in his dark eyes. Then he would take her hands in his and kiss the top of her head. My little Dinah, he would say. Hush, now. Don’t be afraid. He would hold her in his arms and calm her fears with words from the Torah, the way he used to do when she was a little girl, frightened by a thunderstorm or the wind or the darkness.

  “God will never leave you nor forsake you, Dinah. He is our refuge and strength. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth gives way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea.”

  But the earth had given way. Manasseh, the king of Judah, had taken her captive. Dinah was only eighteen, but she would have to stay with him, living in this room for the rest of her life. There was nothing anyone could do.


  If she thought about it for too long, despair would swallow her alive. She had to think about her mother. Mama had once been captured, too. Hers had also been a life sentence. But Mama had escaped. Yahweh had helped her. Maybe if Dinah prayed, maybe if her family was also praying, Yahweh would help her escape like Mama had.

  Dinah fell to her knees in front of the window seat and cried out to God for help. She was still on her knees when she heard the door being unfastened. Manasseh was here. She dried her eyes and stood up. Praying had calmed her fears, giving her peace and determination. She knew what she must do. She would play Manasseh’s game, making him think he had worn her down and won her love. Maybe then he would allow her more freedom. He would remove the locks and allow her to leave the palace. Eventually Yahweh would provide an opening, and she could escape. Tonight she would take the first difficult step toward freedom.

  The door opened and Manasseh stepped inside, closing it behind him. Instead of shrinking away from him as she had always done, Dinah walked toward him and bowed in submission. “Good evening, Your Majesty.” She tried not to gag on the lump of revulsion in her throat.

  When he pulled her into his arms and kissed her, she didn’t resist. She allowed her body to relax and circled her arms around him as she returned his kiss. After a moment he released her and held her by the shoulders.

  “Do I sense a change in your attitude toward me, Dinah?” He wasn’t speaking loudly, but his voice sounded like thunder in the room after a week of silence.

  “Yes, my lord,” she whispered.

  “This is much better, Dinah. Come, let’s sit over here and talk for a while.” He led her to the couch and sat beside her, holding her hands. His touch made her skin crawl.

  Dinah hadn’t expected such immediate results from her prayer, but it gave her hope. Yahweh had heard. He would help her.

  “Why the sudden change of heart?” he asked.

  “I . . . I’m so lonely, my lord. I miss my family.”

  His face turned cold, his eyes dangerous. “I’m your family now. We’re a family—you and I. The Torah says that a man and woman must leave their father and mother and cleave to one another. Do you remember hearing that?”