The Chronicles of the Kings Collection

by Lynn Austin

  “But what can possibly be the purpose in Mama’s death? Why now? Why so suddenly?”

  “See how very different we are?” she said, gazing up at him. “I don’t need to know the reason; I simply trust that there is one. But I’ll pray that God will show you why.”

  He searched her eyes as if he might read the secret of her faith in them, and she saw the heaviness of his grief. Then he wrapped his arm tightly around her, supporting her as they began the slow walk home.

  King Manasseh paced in his private chambers, waiting for Zerah and his bodyguards to arrive, waiting for the daily round of court business to begin. His officials would already be filing into the throne room to await his entrance. Zerah needed to brief him on today’s court business and give him the morning agenda, but Zerah was late. When he finally did arrive, he entered the room alone and quietly closed the door behind him. He was unable to disguise his apprehension.

  “What’s wrong?” Manasseh asked.

  “You’d better read this, Your Majesty. It arrived this morning.”

  Manasseh recognized the letter Zerah handed him as an official communiqué from Assyria. His fear soared. “What do they want?”

  “The Assyrians are marching this way. They’re expanding their empire again, and they intend to conquer Egypt. They need more tribute from us to help pay for it.”

  Manasseh read the message, then tossed it to the floor in anger. “Cancel my court for the day. Send everyone home.”

  “What about your advisors?”

  “I don’t need them. I don’t trust them. You and I will handle this by ourselves.” When Zerah didn’t move, Manasseh grabbed him by the tunic and pulled him close, whispering urgently in his ear. “If word leaks out that the Assyrians are marching, it could start more riots like the ones we had a few years ago when we first signed the treaty with them, remember?”

  “But we executed everyone who opposed the Assyrian alliance.”

  “We executed the ones we discovered—what if there are others? I’m not taking a chance that it will happen all over again.” He shuddered when he remembered the violent anti-Assyrian protests and the fear under which he’d lived until all of the protesters had been rooted out in a purge. For months, blood had flowed ankle deep in the streets and in his execution pits. The ranks of his nobility had been decimated before his army had finally restored law and order.

  “I won’t go through that again, Zerah. You and I will figure out a way to meet these tribute demands ourselves. And this time we will seek omens first and learn which days are favorable for us before we act.”

  When court had been canceled and everyone sent home, Manasseh met with Zerah in the inner chamber of his suite, far from prying eyes and listening ears. It was the only place he felt safe enough to voice his fears and concerns. Zerah sank into a seat, but Manasseh restlessly walked the floor as he confessed his alarm. “Our nation can’t afford to pay these extra taxes to fund the Assyrian war machine. They will ruin us.”

  “With over half a million men marching, we can be grateful that the Assyrians aren’t mobilizing for war against us, Your Majesty.”

  “They may as well be. The cost is nearly as great.”

  “At least we’re still a free country.”

  “Yes, but we’re paying a terrible price for our freedom. Look at this.” Manasseh waved the list of demands in Zerah’s face. “They’re demanding everything: rations of wheat, barley, oil, wine; iron and bronze for weapons; countless cattle and sheep; gold and silver payments. And we have no choice but to pay. I wouldn’t blame the people for rebelling. They just harvested their crops and now everything will be going into Assyrian stomachs. Are we supposed to live on scraps until the next harvest just so Emperor Esarhaddon can conquer Egypt?”

  “Be practical, Your Majesty. No matter how much they demand, it’s still better than captivity and ruin.”

  “Our nation will be destitute. We’ll have nothing to export or trade.”

  “Don’t panic—”

  “I’m not panicking!” But Manasseh knew how guilty he still felt about reversing his father’s courageous stand against the Assyrians and serving as their vassals. His failure had haunted him ever since he had signed the treaty, and he could no longer bear to look down from his palace window and see the Kidron Valley, where the Assyrian army had been slain. All of his life Manasseh had feared not living up to his father’s stature, and now that he knew how far short he had fallen, he couldn’t admit to Zerah or anyone else how ashamed he felt. He turned away from the window, away from the view of the valley where the miracle had occurred, and grabbed a skin of fermented wine. As he poured himself a cupful, much of it sloshed on his shaking hand. He quickly drained the glass.

  “There’s really only one answer.” Zerah’s voice, so practical and down-to-earth, brought Manasseh back from the edge. “We’ll divide the nation into territories and assign overseers to be in charge of taxation and forced labor.”

  “That’s not going to be popular with the people.”

  “We’ll tell them to think of these payments as a loan. When the Assyrians defeat Egypt—and they surely will—all of Pharaoh’s wealth will pour back into the empire, with added profits for nations like ours who helped fund his victory.”

  But Zerah’s cheery prediction did nothing to lift Manasseh’s gloom. “I thought we still had our freedom, Zerah, but we’re Assyria’s servants. We’ll be enslaved to them forever.”

  Three weeks later he and Zerah met in secret once again after they received a report that one of their new overseers had been murdered. “This is what I feared,” Manasseh said. “The riots are going to start all over again.”

  Zerah rested his hand on Manasseh’s shoulder to comfort him. “There won’t be any riots if we act swiftly and send out the troops. We can stop the rebellion before it spreads.”

  “Do you think Joshua is behind it?”

  “Oh, come on!” Zerah gave him a look of disgust as he drew back. “Don’t start worrying about him again! It’s been years since he last surfaced. Surely you can forget about him by now. He’s obviously forgotten about you. In fact, he’s probably dead—we put enough curses on him, he should have died of something by now.”

  “Hadad said they were living on an island in Egypt. He has the ark, my brother, my army general, and all my priests. What do you suppose he’s waiting for?”

  “I’m not going to humor your idiotic fantasies about Joshua ben Eliakim. We need to appoint a new overseer.”

  “I need an heir,” Manasseh said suddenly. Zerah stared at him as if he’d proposed something utterly ridiculous. “Don’t look at me like that! It’s only a matter of time before my enemies stop attacking my overseers and come after me.”

  “Now you’re being paranoid.”

  “If they kill me, there’s no son of David to take my place. I need an heir, Zerah.”

  “You need someone you can trust by your side, not a faithless woman who will stab you in the gut when you least expect it.”

  “I’ll make sure she comes from a loyal family, one that is beyond suspicion.” But Manasseh saw by Zerah’s flushed face and tight frown that he was growing upset. “Listen, there’s no need for you to be jealous. . . .”

  “I’m not jealous!”

  “She would simply be a means to an end. The woman would mean nothing to me.”

  “Why now?” Zerah asked angrily. “What’s your hurry after all these years?”

  “I’m nearly forty years old, Zerah. Don’t you think it’s about time I had an heir?”

  “Your father was forty-two when you were born.”

  “Look, I’m sorry I mentioned it to you. I can see that you’re not the one to help me find a concubine. I’ll ask my secretary to find—”

  “You’re making a big mistake.” Zerah’s voice was so ominous, so menacing, that Manasseh froze. With all of the upheaval in his nation, the last thing he needed was for Zerah to turn against him, too. Zerah had great power at his dis
posal—evil power.

  “You’re right,” Manasseh said after a moment. “Maybe I am being a bit hasty about this.” He drank the remainder of his wine in one gulp. “Will you help me seek omens to determine the best time to father an heir?”

  Zerah smiled coldly. “Certainly, Your Majesty.”

  21

  “Assyria has invaded Egypt?” Joshua asked in disbelief. He read through the message from Pharaoh Taharqo a second time, still unable to believe what he was reading. Comprehension dawned slowly, and with it came a growing impatience. “They’ve finally done it. The Assyrians have marched into Egypt.”

  Prince Amariah nodded glumly as he shifted on his throne. “And my orders from Pharaoh are to be prepared to mobilize the Elephantine garrison. We have to be ready to defend the nation at a moment’s notice.”

  “Pharaoh should have seen this coming,” Joshua said. “The Assyrians made vassals out of all the smaller nations in their path. No other enemy stands between them and the Egyptian border.”

  “Sit down, Joshua. You’re making me nervous pacing around like that.” Amariah gestured to the seat beside his throne.

  Joshua sank into it reluctantly. The audience hall seemed dark and oppressive to him, the space too small and confining to contain his restlessness. “I don’t want a government position, Amariah. I don’t want to sit here on Elephantine Island now that we’re at war. Pharaoh asked for all able-bodied men. I want to train with the others. I want to fight.”

  Amariah sighed. “When we moved here all those years ago and I pledged to fight for Pharaoh and Egypt, I never imagined that we would actually have to do it. Judah is one of Assyria’s vassal states. That means if we get called to war, we’ll be fighting against our own nation.”

  “No, we’re fighting for our nation. When Pharaoh wins, when we push the Assyrians back to the other side of the Euphrates, we can march into Judah and set it free.”

  “I thought you’d finally given up your desire to avenge Manasseh.”

  “I did. But I’m not manipulating events this time. I’m just taking advantage of the opportunity God is providing. It’s all coming together at last, can’t you see? This is what we’ve been waiting for all these years.”

  “I think you’re getting a little ahead of yourself and ahead of God. Let’s wait until the Assyrians are defeated before we plan our strike against Manasseh.”

  “Fine. But in the meantime I want an army commission. I can handle a regiment, I’ve kept up my reserve training, and if I drill every day for the next few weeks—”

  “You don’t have to convince me, Joshua. I know you’re an able commander. But why do you want to go to war? You’re forty years old; you have a wife who needs you. Stay here and help me govern the island.”

  He shook his head. “I’ve been waiting too long for this opportunity. I have to fight!” He stood again, unable to remain seated.

  “How long do you think it will take to mobilize all the men?” Amariah asked, but Joshua ignored his question as a sudden fear shot through him. He turned to face the prince.

  “I don’t want Nathan to go. If we get called to fight, promise me you’ll use your authority to have Nathan assigned to the home guard. Miriam needs him.”

  “But Nathan is—”

  “I’ll train, I’ll gladly go to war . . . but not my son.”

  “What about Nathan’s wishes? He isn’t going to be content to stay home while all his friends go to war.”

  “I know I’m being selfish, but I can’t help it. I don’t want to lose him. Suppose he was your son? Suppose Gedaliah was old enough to go?”

  “You know that a royal son would never be called to fight. I’ll never face that choice, so I can only imagine how you feel. But in fairness to Nathan, I can’t—”

  “You have three more sons besides Gedaliah and two daughters. Nathan is the only son I have. Please, Amariah. Don’t make me beg.”

  He saw the prince’s reluctance in his furrowed brow, heard it in his hesitant voice. “I’ll talk to his commanding officer,” he said at last, “and see what I can do.”

  All afternoon Joshua pondered the best way to break the news to Miriam that he had volunteered to go to war with the Elephantine Island garrison. He decided, after the evening meal, to walk with her to visit Jerusha’s grave. A gentle breeze from the river swept the night air clean, and a radiant moon rose above the palm trees, making it difficult for Joshua to comprehend that his adopted country was already at war far to the north. He tightened his arm around his wife’s waist as he looked down at his mother’s grave.

  “God answered your prayers, Miriam. I think I understand why God took Mama.” She waited, standing utterly still. “The Assyrians have attacked Egypt. God knew Mama couldn’t face another invasion. She had already been through enough with the Assyrians for one lifetime.”

  “Will they come this far south?” Miriam asked after a moment.

  “It’s very unlikely.”

  “Then what else aren’t you telling me?”

  He marveled at how well she knew him, how easily she could read his moods. And he knew her well enough to know that his decision was going to cause her a great deal of pain. “I’ll be given a commission. I’m going to fight.”

  “You have to go? Or you want to go?”

  “Both.”

  “I see. And if Mama was still alive, would you have gone to war?”

  He hesitated, seeing where Miriam was leading him. “The Assyrians were her lifelong enemies,” he said slowly. “She couldn’t have endured the thought of losing me to them.”

  “But I can?”

  He caressed Miriam’s cheek as if trying to smooth away the pain and anger he saw on her face. “Miriam, nothing is going to happen to me. I know because I can see God’s plan so clearly in all of this. King Manasseh is Assyria’s ally. Once we’ve driven the Assyrians back to Nineveh, Judah will be ours. We can all go home.”

  “We are home,” she said softly. Her eyes filled with tears. “Joshua, please—”

  “Don’t!” He quickly covered her lips with his fingers. “Don’t ask, Miriam. You know I would do anything for you, but please don’t ask me to stay here. I have to fight. I have to.”

  Her tears spilled down her cheeks. “But who’s going to take care of you this time? Who will watch out for you and save your life? I can’t come with you like I did all those other times.”

  “God will watch over me . . . and over you.”

  She closed her eyes and shuddered, then opened them again a moment later. “Maybe this is why my legs have never healed. Maybe God wants to keep me on my knees.”

  Nathan bristled with excitement as he hurried up to the barracks with his friend Saul. “They said our assignments would be posted this afternoon. I hope we’re together.”

  “Are you sure we’ll actually get to fight the Assyrians?” Saul asked. “Aren’t we too far south to be called into battle?”

  “Listen, I’m not supposed to know this,” Nathan said, “but I overheard Prince Amariah talking out in our courtyard last night and—”

  “You were eavesdropping?”

  “Yeah, so what. He said the Assyrians are pounding the Egyptians. Pharaoh’s troops are getting pulverized. They’re desperate, and they’re sending for every man they can get.”

  “So we’ll get to see some action?” Saul asked.

  “Guaranteed. They’re mobilizing all the troops, including our regiment.”

  “I was beginning to think we’d never be real soldiers. We’re finally going to get off this island and fight!”

  “We’ll chase those heathens all the way back to Nineveh!” Nathan vowed.

  When they reached the barracks, a crowd of soldiers had already gathered near the wall where the assignments had been posted. One by one, Nathan’s fellow recruits cheered as they read the listings, as eager as he was to enter the battle. Saul, who was a few inches taller than Nathan, craned his neck for a closer look.

  “Hey, your fath
er has been given a commission. He’s the commanding officer of my regiment. But I don’t see your name here.”

  “They wouldn’t put me in his unit. Let me see.” Nathan elbowed his way to the front and quickly scanned the lists of names. Then he read them again. He couldn’t find his name on any list. “Hey, what’s going on?” he shouted.

  “I found it,” Saul said, “over here.” He pointed to a list that was pinned separately from the others. Nathan saw his name, then read the heading on the top of the page in disbelief.

  “Home guard! They can’t do this to me!” He unleashed a stream of curses.

  Saul tried to lead him away as everyone turned to stare. “Shh . . . calm down, Nate. If our commanders hear you, they’ll—”

  “I don’t care! What more can they do to me? They’ve already denied me a chance to fight! And I’ll tell you right now, I’m not going to take it!”

  “Nathan, wait. Don’t do something stupid.”

  But in his fury Nathan was beyond reason. He stormed into the barracks and tracked down his former drill instructor, taking the man by surprise as he confronted him.

  “Why did you assign me to the home guard? How could you do this to me? I don’t deserve the home guard! I’m every bit as good as the other guys, and you know it!”

  “We need good men to guard the home front. It’s an honor—”

  “I want to fight! Reassign me!”

  “Those are your orders, Nathan. A good soldier obeys without question.”

  “You know as well as I do that the Assyrians will never get this far south. I’ll never get a chance to fight. Change my assignment now!”

  Nathan’s angry demand seemed to push the drill instructor over the edge. He swiftly crossed the room and shoved Nathan against the wall, planting his hand on his chest to pin him there. “You watch the way you talk to me! Right now you’re dangerously close to a charge of insubordination!”

  Nathan barely resisted the urge to fight back. The man finally released him. “Just for the record, I had nothing to do with your assignment. In fact, I recommended you as a squad leader.”