by Brian Godawa
And that meant he was entirely open for Joshua to thrust through the joints of his special hardened armor to penetrate his giant heart.
Unfortunately, the blade stuck in the armor and Joshua pulled away without his weapon, its handle sticking out of Og’s sternum.
Og was going to die. But he was not dead yet.
He had dropped his swords, and had fallen to his knees. The brain wound from Caleb paralyzed his left arm.
With his life bleeding out of him, he found one last gush of strength to grab the stunned Joshua with his good hand. His huge six-fingers held Joshua in the air, crushing his windpipe, choking Joshua’s life out of him.
Og crowed, “I have you at last, you Yahwist fanatic. And I will take you with me to Sheol.”
But before Og could make good his promise, he felt the sensation of cold metal wrap around his neck like a rope.
And his eyes saw the world tumble around him as his head fell to the ground, severed from his neck by the blade of Rahab in Caleb’s newly conscious hands.
Caleb said, “No, you will not, you son of Belial,” and spit on Og’s head, which was still looking up at Caleb moments before it slipped into oblivion.
He went to help Joshua, who was massaging his wounded windpipe. He could barely speak.
He did not have to. They looked at each other. Grabbed wrists. They were comrades in war. Brothers in the Lord.
“You really owe me that land of Abraham now,” said Caleb.
Joshua croaked out, “What do I get for saving you?”
Caleb thought for a moment and said, “I will not tell Moses you took too big a risk.”
Joshua shook his head and said, “Let us finish off this city. Find me the spy Salmon.”
When Joshua and Caleb arrived in the city, their army greeted them. But no one else was in sight. It was a ghost town.
Othniel announced, “My lord, when we broke through the gate, there was no one here. They have all vanished.”
Salmon had been brought with them. “They are underground,” he said. “In their city beneath the city.”
Joshua said to Salmon, “Where are the passageways you discovered, so we can smoke these badgers out.”
• • • • •
But Joshua would not have to pursue the underground fugitives, because at that moment on the backside of the plateau, a hundred feet in the air, Uriel was in the cave opening he had discovered on his reconnaissance trip. It was the one with the magnificent hornet’s nest filling the tunnel.
Uriel took out his two swords and ran through the gauntlet hive like a miniature tornado, cutting up the hornet’s nest all the way to the opening of the cave.
The hornets were driven mad with rage at the attack. They began to pour out of their nest like a billowing storm cloud.
But Uriel reached the opening and dove out, landing fifteen feet below with a thud on a rocky ledge.
Simultaneously above him, Mikael, Gabriel, and Raphael used all their strength to dislodge a boulder at the entrance and cause a cave in that sealed the entrance and trapped the angry hornets inside.
That is, blocked the angry hornets from going that direction, which forced them to go in the other direction, straight into the catacombs beneath the city where the populace had hidden out with the surviving soldiers.
• • • • •
Up above, the city was already in flames and black smoke billowed into the sky. Salmon had led Joshua to one of the passageways that he had found on his spy mission.
But before they could enter it, Joshua and his forces suddenly saw soldiers and citizens screaming and running for their lives from secret openings in the city. Many of them were swatting at hornets still following them, and others were dropping dead from the stings that covered their bodies.
But the hornets were repelled from Joshua’s men by the smoke of the fires around them.
Joshua did to King Og and his people what he did to King Sihon and the Amorites. He defeated them until they had no survivor left, and possessed their land.
Og’s head and body were hung on a pole in the field of Edrei.
• • • • •
When the armed forces returned to the camp of Israel, Moses called a congregational gathering to honor the heroic deeds of the living and the dead. They had already buried their fallen and worshipped their god Yahweh for his protection and victory. But now several warriors were honored for their mighty exploits.
The one that mattered most to Caleb was his brother Othniel.
Joshua, Caleb, Othniel, and the others stood before the congregation in their military garb. The elders and judges were all present with a large representation of their tribes to recognize these mighty men.
As Moses recounted Othniel’s deeds on the field to the congregation, Caleb watched his daughter in the front of the crowd beaming with pride.
Moses described Othniel’s launch into the breach of the giant forces at Jahaz. How he had found his way through the tangle of chaos to be the vanquisher of King Sihon. Caleb saw Othniel stealing glances at Achsah.
It was customary to offer these men of valor fulfillment of a wish as gratitude for their sacrifice on behalf of Yahweh and his people. They had risked all in battle for their countrymen. It was not unreasonable to offer them some earthly reward for their exploits.
Some would ask for large parties of much eating and drinking with friends, some would request elevation of rank in the military, others specific tracts of land for inheritance. It was common for many to ask for the hand of a woman in marriage.
So when Caleb stood before his brother and asked what his desire would be, he saw that Othniel was nervous and sweating. Othniel stared in Achsah’s direction then jerked his eyes toward Caleb with what looked like a tortured mind. He was taking too long. He appeared to want to say something, but did not have the courage to say it aloud.
Caleb just waited for him, making it all the more uncomfortable. He knew that this man who could slay giants in combat and lead a thousand men in battle with a war cry, did not have the courage to publicly declare his heart for a young woman for the fear of failure and rejection. Caleb thought of him like a big ox with his tongue cut out. But he believed that if a man could not display the courage to face the failure of a woman’s or father’s rejection, then he did not deserve to win that woman, much less Caleb’s precious Achsah. Achsah needed more than a brutish protector and provider. She deserved a companion and sensitive lover.
Lover? The thought of her having marital relations with Othniel made Caleb’s stomach turn. He secretly hoped that Achsah had not gotten any ideas from their earlier talk about marriage.
In the crowd, Achsah was feeling sorry for Othniel. After her father had mentioned his name as a possible husband for her weeks ago, she began to see him in a different light. She began to see all his playfulness and affection for her with far more importance than she ever had. She would daydream about him walking with her in a garden and kissing her. Hearing his mighty deeds of war caused a feeling to rise up within her body that she had never experienced before.
It was intense desire. The man who had been like a bigger brother to her all her life, who had watched over her, rescued her, and taught her so much about survival, was now a warrior with a steed ready to carry her away.
Only, he could not mount his stallion. He seemed too intimidated by her father or by his own lack of confidence to speak up.
Well, one thing she knew for sure. She would never usurp his obligation to lead in the ways of courtship and betrothal. Her father had modeled the kind of man that she required. And if he would not have the courage to ask for her hand, she would remain waiting, even if it took him years.
She prayed it would not take him years.
And suddenly, to Caleb’s and Achsah’s surprise, indeed to Othniel’s surprise, Othniel blubbered out the words, “I want to be a judge!”
Caleb was not sure what he heard. It was not what he anticipated.
Othniel clarified
, “After we have settled in the land, I want to become a judge of Israel and deliberate justice.”
Caleb stole a glance at Achsah. She looked crestfallen, heartbroken.
But Caleb felt relieved. As much as he loved and respected his brother, he felt he was not good enough for his Achsah. No one was good enough for his Achsah.
Caleb pronounced to the congregation, “Othniel has requested to be a judge for Israel when we are settled in the land! A judge he shall be!”
Down in the crowd, Achsah held back tears. She felt rejected by the very man that she was beginning to open her heart to. She changed her mind and concluded that it would probably not take years for Othniel, it would take forever. She resigned herself to the death of her hope in this new Promised Land.
Chapter 22
Thirty miles south of Edrei, Uriel had been tracking the fleeing Molech, only to discover he had holed himself up in the territory of the Ammonites east of Sihon’s old kingdom. Because the Ammonites were sons of Lot, the nephew of Abraham, Yahweh had given them special dispensation so that Israel could not possess their land.
By hiding himself in Ammonite territory, Molech was legally protected from Uriel’s jurisdiction. If Molech left the area, Uriel could arrest him, bind him, and send him to Tartarus. But inside the territory of Ammon, Molech was free. He was under their protected inheritance.
Uriel knew Molech would not dare risk that protection, so it would be fruitless to wait outside the borders for him. Molech could stay there forever. Uriel thought he would be of more use to his team of archangels if he could catch up with them to aid in their capture of Ashtart.
So he immediately set off for the distant northwest. He only hoped he would find them in time to be of help. This was not a time for egos between angels, Ashtart really was vicious enough to require as many of them as possible to capture and imprison her. She had become quite powerful over the eons.
And she was just a warm up for Ba’al, the most high god of the pantheon, who had been building his stronghold in Canaan for centuries with Ashtart’s help.
Uriel had no idea how they would be able to take him down.
• • • • •
The three archangels, Mikael, Gabriel, and Raphael had tracked Ashtart to the north of Edrei. Within ten miles of her escape, they had figured out her destination. It was obvious. And why not? Why would she not go to her source of power?
It was Mount Hermon, the cosmic mountain of the gods, the location of the Watchers’ descent to earth in antediluvian days. It was their mount of assembly and it connected heaven to earth and earth to Sheol. Though this time of year was filled with many festivals and rituals throughout the earth, the pantheon would not be assembled. Nevertheless, it was a fortress that archangels should not approach without great trepidation.
The three of them hiked through the cedar forest at the foot of the mountain to their point of entry. There was a temple that contained a sacrificial pit leading down into the cavern assembly room of the gods.
But three archangels could not avoid detection entering that temple complex and walking right up the stairs and into the bowels of the enemy’s fortress.
That is why only one of them went.
Mikael cloaked himself in the hooded robe of one of the priests he secretly killed outside the complex.
He made his way up the brick steps of the ziggurat that had been built halfway into the mountain. It was over one hundred feet above the clearing where the worshippers congregated.
But there was no congregation this evening. Mikael was trying to avoid contact. He just wanted to slip into the lair of Ashtart as inconspicuously as possible.
When he arrived at the top, he saw several priests feeding the perpetual flames of the pit before retiring.
They noticed him as they were leaving the altar area. They whispered to themselves. They knew he was not supposed to be there.
So he immediately threw himself into the flames of the tophet. When the priests turned back, he was gone, disappeared. They walked back to the altar to see if he had gone back down the stairs. But they would not find their apparition that night. He was below them, having leapt through the fire that hid from sight a secret ledge outside of the flames. Now, he was silently slipping through the long pillared hallway that was accessed through that secret ledge below the tophet.
• • • • •
Gabriel and Raphael had avoided the front door in favor of a side entrance. It was the ruins of a palace that used to be the guardian hall over this hidden tunnel. It had been the palace of Humbaba the Terrible that was conquered by Gilgamesh the king of Uruk right after the Flood.
The angels made their way through the ruins that had been burnt to the ground eons ago. Eventually, these too would be swept away with the sands of time.
They found the tunnel entrance and made their way through to the heart of the mountain.
• • • • •
Mikael reached the huge bronze doors that towered over him at the end of the pillared hallway. He knew this was the gateway to the assembly of the gods. He had been here once before a millennium ago, with Enoch the giant killer. All four of the angels had snuck into this most diabolical inner chamber with Enoch. He had been called by Yahweh to pronounce judgment on the two hundred Watchers and their evil progeny the Nephilim.
All five of them had walked right into the hornet’s nest of evil, but had been translated into heaven before the fallen ones could get their hands on any of them.
But the archangels would not have that luxury today. This is why it was a good thing that the gods were not assembling at this time of year. This was a temple of supernatural wickedness, and Ashtart would have the upper hand. She would be stronger, faster, harder to overcome.
But there was something to the archangels’ benefit in this location. Something Mikael thought Ashtart would regret for the rest of her eternity if they were able to capture her.
If they were able to capture her.
He pushed open the mighty doors with a heave and stepped into the wide cavern.
The vast rocky subterranean cavern hosted stalactites and stalagmites embedded with iridescent gems. They gave Mikael the impression of being in the mouth of an immense dragon.
He slipped silently through the labyrinth of rocky deposition and found his way to the clearing where the pantheon assembled before a throne. Between that throne and Mikael was a pitch-black lake that led to the Abyss. Its surface was perpetually aflame from the thick oozing substance.
This murky lagoon was where Noah ben Lamech and his comrades had jumped in to escape the clutches of assassin Nephilim in the antediluvian era. The Abyss led to Sheol and Sheol was the only place Nephilim were afraid of, so they did not follow.
Ashtart interrupted his thoughts with a booming voice. “Welcome to the assembly hall of your enemy, archangel. Welcome to your grave.”
Ashtart was sitting on the throne across the lake with a relaxed and confident demeanor. She knew angels could not die. But they were divine beings just like Watchers, so they could be bound into the earth in a living grave, which would be worse than death.
“I am a bit embarrassed. I did not have the time to change my wardrobe.” She was still dressed in her black leather fighting costume and painted white face that he had seen back at Edrei. “I have just been too busy preparing.”
She stepped off the throne and armed herself with her choicest weapons: A double set of straight swords sheathed behind her back for easy access, and her favorite, the scythe of death.
As she walked to him around the shore of the lake, he kept his eyes on her in silence. And matched her pace toward her.
It was a showdown of doom.
“I know you are a prince of angels, Mikael. But really, only you? I am a bit insulted. On the other hand, I will not complain about being handed an easy victory.” She looked up mockingly. “Thank you, Yahweh, for this meal I am about to eat.”
Mikael pulled his sword and finally spoke, and
when he did, he used Ashtart’s true name. “Azazel, I condemn you in the name of the living god, Yahweh Elohim. For your crimes and evil against humanity and against your Creator, you are sentenced to imprisonment in the heart of the earth until judgment.”
They were almost upon one another.
Azazel said, “Come and bind me, archangel.”
He swung his scythe in an arc of preparation. Its sweeping curved blade at the base of a long handle twirled in his powerful hands like a windmill of death.
Mikael could hear the whistle of wind. Archangels as well as Watchers had preternatural senses. And those senses were heightened even more with the rising tension of confrontation.
But so were Azazel’s senses. So when he stopped in a ready stance for battle, he quipped, “That is more like it. Three against one. Now the odds are a bit more even.”
Azazel did not have to look behind him. He knew Gabriel and Raphael had moved out from the rocks to circle him from behind. Their weapons were drawn, their stances ready.
“Even so,” he said. “I will bury all of you.”
Azazel went on the offensive.
He swung in powerful arcs as he spun on his heels attacking all three angels in his dance of death.
Blades came in contact and sparked furiously.
The angels all carried shields, and it was a good thing too, because they needed the protection. He was amazingly fast. He could fight all three simultaneously as if he were fighting one.
Raphael was having trouble keeping up with him. His shield was taking too many blows. The scythe was beginning to cut through it.
Raphael had to throw it down when it became useless. He had to be more guarded in his moves. More cautious.
That was exactly Azazel’s plan. He continued his relentless attack of blade against blades.
Now, Gabriel’s shield was breaking down under impact.
“I could do this all night,” crowed Azazel, as he spun and struck. The angels dodged and weaved and guarded.
But they were not unable to strike. They were playing their odds. Watchers were mighty, but they were not omnipotent. And all creatures tire, even divine creatures. They were wearing Azazel down until they could strike with efficiency and surety.
