THE CHOSEN: A Man Much Loved: Historical Fiction (The Chosen Trilogy Book 3)

by Shlomo Kalo

  And the King, accompanied by his exquisitely beautiful wife and a handful of bodyguards, strolled among the revellers, greeted with exclamations of loyalty and obeisance and giving benedictions in reply, hearing jokes and telling jokes and laughing with the rest of them, and taking the opportunity to be become acquainted with the personal concerns of his subjects: how could they be helped, were they being mistreated and if so – by whom?

  Some time after this festival, the like of which Babylon had not known since the day of its foundation, and would in all probability never know again – the King summoned his ministers and dictated to them a series of new laws, a supplement to the code of laws which had existed for centuries. His instructions were the following:

  “No slave shall be required to work for more than ten hours in the day, from the hour of sunrise to the hour of sunset. Anyone who infringes this rule – his slave shall be set free.

  “No child under ten years of age shall be employed to work in the fields or in construction. Anyone who infringes this rule – his fields shall be confiscated or his building demolished.

  “Women are not to be set to work in the buildings of roads or of houses, even if they are convicted felons. Anyone who infringes this rule will be fined twenty gold shekels and if he is a state employee, he will be dismissed.

  “Every man is entitled to approach the authorities and demand employment, and the authorities are required by this statute to find him suitable employment. Any man who refuses to accept the work thus offered him, and has no reasonable excuse, shall be exiled from his land.

  “Public buildings are to be set up, and anyone who cannot afford a home of his own can lodge there in exchange for a monthly rent, at a level to be determined by the ministers, in accordance with his income.

  “Any pauper who falls ill is to be treated at the expense of the state.

  “Freedom of religion and worship is guaranteed, so long as one man’s observance does not interfere with that of another.”

  These supplements which King Nebuchadnezzar added to the existing legal code of his realm brought about many improvements in the lives of the citizens of Babylon and its environs, and boosted his prestige among the populations of all the lands that he had conquered, and lands beyond the boundaries of his empire.

  The King personally designed the building in which the homeless were to be accommodated; the apartments were spacious and airy and greatly appreciated by the grateful tenants.

  Among the ministers and courtiers and advisers and all who were close to the King, it was said that since his return from the forest, after the seven seasons, he had changed in two significant ways:

  Firstly – he was serving his God and praying to Him three times every day, and appealing to Him in humility, resignation and calm acquiescence, not – as in the past – with bombastic tirades and outbursts of anger.

  As to the second issue, the close associates of the King and members of his household had nothing meaningful to say about it, but it was clear to all of them that it did indeed exist. Until one day Belteshazzar, alias Daniel, heard from the lips of Denur-Shag a word that fitted the elusive concept admirably.

  Sitting with him on his veranda, and in merry mood having imbibed liberal quantities of young red Chaldean wine, Denur-Shag uttered in passing the word “mellowing”. The King had “mellowed” indeed. He was no longer in the habit of ordering summary executions, and he was not as quick as he used to be to send convicted felons to penal servitude in the subterranean copper mines. Not only this, but more and more frequently, and to the surprise of all, the King was seen strolling in his garden – and smiling. And this smile of the King infected all his aides and ministers and advisers, his slaves and servitors and took over the whole palace, emerging thence into the streets of Babylon and descending to the Chaldean populace, dispelling gloom and spreading good cheer. People did not ask one another what was the reason for this startling, and in the eyes of many, blessed change in the personality of the King, as expressed in his new patterns of behaviour and demeanour. What was making the King smile? – it was a secret, but an open secret, known to all: it was the proud and elegant Median princess, Temior.

  Shortly after the return of Temior to her husband the King, he began disbanding his army of concubines, and of the ten wives in his harem the only one he retained was Domilin, a middle-aged woman whose son, Belshazzar, was destined to inherit the throne in due course. She was happy to be the companion of Queen Temior and to oversee the management of the household.

  Offered generous financial settlements, the nine remaining wives of Nebuchadnezzar were returned to the families whence they had been taken. Six of them were content with this arrangement and even welcomed it; three felt hurt and insulted.

  Nebuchadnezzar suggested they should go to the islands of the north, where there was no stigma attached to a woman who lost her virginity before marriage – especially if she was rich. Only one family took his advice, going down to the great sea and setting sail for those islands. The others remained in a state of deep dudgeon, but their complaints went unheard.

  The “mellowing” of Nebuchadnezzar was most clearly demonstrated in his response to the request put to him by Or-Nego.

  Since his return from Judah, Or-Nego had kept his distance from people, living in seclusion and going out only when it could not be avoided. Some considered his behaviour eccentric, but so long as he did his duty impeccably, no one thought to probe too deeply into his personal affairs. Such was the respect that they felt for him, and the reputation that he had gained, and the confidence placed in him – it was reckoned he must know what he was doing.

  He visited him on a number of occasions – during the period of the “seven seasons” and afterwards. He could tell Or-Nego was worried about something.

  “God!” Or-Nego remarked in the course of one of their conversations, his voice thick and soft – “There is no greater pleasure on earth than to serve Him with all your heart and might, to worship him at all times and always, and love Him truly. And seeing your sincere efforts, He may entrust a holy mission to you. Not like the mission that was entrusted to the prophet Jeremiah, I know I am not worthy of that! All that I seek is a way to serve Him, your God I mean, the one my heart longs for, who in my eyes is the God of truth. And what a shame it is that Adelain, my daughter, has chosen to serve a god that is nothing but an idol! But I have no intention of trying to persuade her otherwise. Lectures will do no good. Only by the grace of God, reflected in the bounty given to all who long for Him, only thus can miracles be worked. It is not anything that I can do, of that I am absolutely sure!”

  “Do you often meet Adelain?” he asked.

  “Visiting her is as difficult for me as it possibly could be. Not that I don’t want to visit her, see her, hear her voice, do her any favour she might ask for. But as I say, it isn’t easy for me.”

  “Why is that?” he persisted, undeterred by Or-Nego’s long and keen glance.

  “Because she only wants to talk about you and your wife, nothing else! And such conversations work her up into a highly emotional state, and I reckon that if I stay away the subject won’t be raised, and life will be easier for her. In time, perhaps, though it’s something I don’t dare even dream about – she will attain some peace of mind and the memory of all this will fade away into nothing!”

  Or-Nego sighed, and as the other did not respond, he added by way of explanation:

  “She doesn’t ask about you directly. She knows I don’t like it, and knows too that it doesn’t redound to her honour, which is my honour as well. She doesn’t ask directly, but those eyes that she fixes on me – the inestimable dolour behind them, pain that will not be assuaged until I have brought up in conversation some topic relating to you, or mentioned your name in one context or another. Then her face lights up, there is an easing of tension and for a moment she seems soothed, almost happy, a bright look in her eyes.

  “And I don’t think this is healthy, which is why I ten
d to stay away from the shrine of Bel, especially as he is no longer my god!” Or-Nego smiled wryly.

  He had nothing to say to Or-Nego, not even a word of consolation. He did not regret inducing him to speak of Adelain, but decided that henceforward he would ask him no more questions about her.

  “Do you believe?” he asked his guest.

  “Interesting!” the latter replied. “That other man of God, the one whose like I have never seen, excepting you, asked me the very same question.”

  “And what was your answer?”

  “I believe.”

  “If you believe, there is always a way open to you!”

  “And that is?” – something was awakened in the eyes of the Chaldean.

  “Pray! Address yourself to God, and He will give you an answer. He will never abandon you, and He will always bring solace to your soul. Turn to Him!”

  “And if I haven’t yet taken the rite of circumcision?”

  “If your heart is pure and you truly believe – God will answer your prayer.”

  “As that other wonderful man told me,” Or-Nego responded eagerly, “I should purify my heart first.”

  “He gave you sound advice!”

  “All the same,” Or-Nego resumed after a long moment of deliberation, “I still intend to submit to the rite. All that I did in Judah, the fearful slaughter that I took part in, these things give me no peace. For me the rite will be an act of sacrifice, a token, however meagre, of my deep remorse. And your God, who is my God and to whom I cleave with absolute faith, may yet forgive me and pardon me.”

  “He is kind and merciful, and long-suffering,” he answered him, and added: “And His name is love!”

  “Of that I am absolutely sure!” Or-Nego declared, his voice shedding the last traces of the dejection that had clouded it thus far, “I only have to say it, and my heart is filled at once with joy and delight!”

  “So, turn to Him!” he urged him.

  Or-Nego was admitted to the Covenant of Abraham in a ceremony in the old community of Babylon conducted by Nehemiah the priest, and three days of pain and bleeding followed, and he said not a word to anyone. By the fourth day the worst was over, and he was glad in the knowledge that he had suffered for a sacred cause.

  The old Jewish community of Babylon, which had tried in vain to come to terms with the extended community of the exiles, was no longer the community that had once dreamed the great dream of the Kingdom of the House of David, extending from the Red Sea to the Tigris and the Euphrates. A pall of gloom had descended upon it, since the first rumours were heard of the victory of the Chaldeans and the destruction of the Temple and the fate of King Zedekiah, blinded and living among slaves in Nebuchadnezzar’s prison. And yet, the majority of its members still would not admit that Jeremiah was the holy prophet of God, and everything he predicted had come true and was coming true even now, and as God’s mouthpiece on the earth he must be obeyed, and they should fortify themselves with patience and wait for the seventy years to elapse – whereupon He, Almighty God, His name be blessed, would restore the exiles of Babylon to their homeland and the place of their nurture, and they would build their houses again and repair the ruins of the Temple and the royal palace and the city walls. No, the people of the ancient community of Babylon were in no mood to compromise. To them, Jeremiah was a traitor who had brought disaster upon Judah by weakening the resolve of its defenders, in league with those exiles who had accepted senior appointments in the Babylonian administration and for some reason were thought to be a cut above the rest.

  So the two communities remained, the veteran and the newly-arrived, separated from each other, mutually alien and sometimes mutually hostile. But the worship and the liturgy as practised by the veterans were highly regarded, and their Bet Midrash was the preferred setting for the circumcision of sons born to the exiles too. Despite their antipathy to the exiles, the mohels could not refuse to admit their sons to the Covenant of Abraham, which is a commandment; he who shirks it might just as well declare himself an outcast from Israel and from Judah.

  On his recovery from the painful operation, Or-Nego asked for an audience with King Nebuchadnezzar, and put to him a strange request, that in the distant days of the past the King would have rejected out of hand; in former times the suppliant himself would have thought long and hard before daring even to broach the subject.

  But, as has already been noted, this was a different age and different days, unsullied by the past. And the King smiled and listened patiently as Or-Nego, his senior commander, told him that he wanted to serve the God he believed in, the God, that is, who saved his three ministers, Abed-Nego, Meshach and Shadrach from the flames of the furnace, and revealed to his senior aide, Belteshazzar, the nature of the King’s first dream and the interpretation of the second, and he, Or-Nego, was asking for the King’s permission to go to Jerusalem, or rather to the smoking ruins of Jerusalem, to build a hostel there for the service of wayfarers, offering them a warm welcome and warm hospitality, food and drink and a place to lodge for the night and if necessary, they would be provided with clothing too. They would be sent on their way with a blessing, and all of this was to be free of charge – in honour of the God in whom he believed and to sanctify His name.

  For a long moment Nebuchadnezzar stared at him as if seeing nothing. Then he asked him:

  “All of this – why?”

  “It is to atone for the wicked things I did in those places, and the dreadful slaughter that I was a part of, and to receive the forgiveness and pardon of God, if indeed I am judged worthy of them.”

  And the King asked Or-Nego if he would accept an allowance of one thousand gold shekels per year, to cover his expenses. Or-Nego bowed and prostrated himself before the King and answered him:

  “My King, live for ever! It is a generous offer, Your Majesty, but if I am to serve my God, I must trust in Him absolutely. He will provide for me and keep me from all harm, He will strengthen me and ease my woes, if indeed I am judged worthy! If the King so desires, he may distribute those thousand shekels among the Jewish exiles, some of whom are still living in penury.”

  “It shall be as you say, my faithful servant Or-Nego!” cried the King. “May God make your ways prosper and extend His protection over you and keep you safe from all evil, and bless the labours of your hands, whereby you sanctify His name!”

  Or-Nego bowed low before his King and withdrew, walking backwards as he left the regal chamber, and not looking at the face of Nebuchadnezzar whom, every day that he lived, he had revered.

  Before setting out on his way, Or-Nego met him again, along with Mishael, Hananiah and Azariah, and they told him the story of the Son of God who was with them in the furnace and kept the flames from harming them, and released the bonds in which they were tied.

  “He is the one who is to come,” said Mishael, “and He shall redeem his people Israel, the people that knows Him, for whom the worship of God is not yet a mere recitation of words!”

  And Daniel said, echoing Mishael’s assertion:

  “All our prophets have foretold Him, the God who will take on flesh to endure the suffering of mankind in the flesh, to atone for the sins of men and to stand as an example and an inspiration to them!”

  And Hananiah added:

  “Many more good people will follow in your footsteps and do as you are doing. Some will choose seclusion out of devotion to their God, and others will sanctify His name through the service of their fellow-men!”

  And Or-Nego set out for the long ride to Jerusalem, in his saddle-bag one loaf of bread and a flask of water, and by the grace and the love of God he reached Jerusalem and built his hostel from the scorched bricks of the ruined buildings; before long he had opened his door to welcome inside the weary travellers and itinerants, washing their feet, feeding them with whatever God provided, praying with them and singing psalms, offering them sleeping-mats that he had woven himself – and to anyone who lacked clothing he gave whatever he had, until his last shirt a
nd his last shabby cloak had gone. But he was not left naked because God saw him, and affluent people passing by the house considered it a divine duty to donate clothing, and even food when his larder was bare. His Hebrew name was Isaac Hameir, and over the course of time he came to be known as Saint Isaac.

  At about this time Denur-Shag resolved to ask the King to cancel the horse-races, in which the competitors were required to jump the open ditch, thus endangering their lives for the entertainment of the spectators.

  So he approached the King who received him cordially, and not only heard him out but was delighted by what he heard. He smiled that bright smile of his, infusing warmth and confidence in the hearts of all who observed it, and gave his answer:

  “How marvellous are the ways of the God that you call ‘love’, and I believe that is indeed His name. I was insane and it seemed to me my life was over – and he cured me of my insanity and purged me of pride, and gave back to me my heart’s desire, my Queen Temior, most wondrous of women. And he has given me happiness such as I never dreamed could even exist. And as for this idea of yours, to stop the killing in the horse-races – this is surely inspired by God! This very day I shall issue the decree and the race in its present form will end forthwith. The ditch will be filled in, and replaced by a simple hurdle, that may be jumped with no risk to the horse or the rider.

  “And I tell you something else!” the King cried in his enthusiasm. “We are laying the foundations of a new style of horse-racing that will take over the world and persist over the years and the generations and ages. And those who witness it will enjoy it and those taking part will be glad, since their lives will not be in danger, and no one will know its origin, from whence it came, and who devised it! ”

  The Royal Couple

  Queen Temior celebrated her forty-fifth birthday, and to mark the occasion King Nebuchadnezzar organised a garden-party in her honour. And at the Queen’s specific request, invitations were limited to a very small number: the King’s ten senior counsellors, headed by Nashdernach, and the four ministers of Judean origin, namely – Belteshazzar, Meshach, Abed-Nego and Shadrach, with their wives.