By the Waters of Babylon

by Mesu Andrews

  -Ezekiel 5:15

  “How else could she call thousands of birds to Hazor when jackals threatened our camp?” It was the question that kept me staring at the waning moon through the small slit in our tent flap and the only thing keeping her alive. Even Azat agreed there was something of the divine in her.

  I had vowed silence to Tabiti on the floor of that little house in Jerusalem, but if she wasn’t Tabiti . . . “I saw three bodies: Tabiti, a boy, and another woman. The woman’s body—” I refused to describe it. “I knew only by the face still intact that it had been a woman. The boy’s body had been lovingly pieced back together, dressed, and sprinkled with herbs.”

  “Herbs? Where did she get herbs?”

  I shook my head. “That’s part of the wonder. I also found this . . .” Rushing out of the tent, I made sure the sentries were distracted when I retrieved the treasure from my supply mule. Azat’s face was skeptical, but when I unwrapped the exquisite harp, my wonder was reflected on his features.

  “How could something so valuable survive a siege?”

  “This harp and the herbs were the only things of value in her house. No clothing. No furniture. Not even dishes or tools.”

  Azat was shaking his head before I finished. “Why wouldn’t they have sold the harp and herbs long before?”

  “None of her story makes sense. She says their own god brought all this calamity because Judah worshiped other deities.”

  “Is that so hard to believe?” Azat’s voice grew softer. “We execute any Scythian who worships gods of other nations. Is it so unthinkable that their god would require the same loyalty?”

  My chest tightened at the reminder of my uncle’s fate. “But what kind of god watches his temple defiled? His people butchered—by each other?”

  We both sat in silence, letting the realities of war harden our weary hearts. Extended sieges brought out the worst in everyone. The soldiers and the besieged. The strong preyed on the weak, and even the noblest of character failed when survival instincts awakened. We were Scythians, warriors, mercenaries—but we were still human.

  A deep sigh broke Azat’s silence. “Her confession was insane, Idan. Or is she a senseless cow? We have to kill her, you know. If our men discover we’ve knowingly kept a Hebrew woman to ourselves, they’ll think—” Another sigh. “You know what they’ll think, and we’ll completely lose their trust.”

  He was right, but I couldn’t kill her. “I’m still not sure. How could a mere woman call thousands of birds with a whistle to fight off jackals?”

  “Maybe birds like Hazor.”

  I heard the doubt in his voice. He didn’t want to kill her either. “Or maybe this god of hers is actually protecting her, and he’ll curse us if we harm her.”

  “Don’t ever say that again.” Azat sat up, looming over me in the darkness. “Scythians recognize no gods but our own. I’m sure your father has spies among us, and he’d kill you like he did your uncle if you admit even the possibility of other gods.”

  I looked away, afraid he’d see the rebellion in my eyes. My father was a fool to think Scythia’s gods were alone in the heavens. “We say nothing to our men. We convince Nebuchadnezzar she’s Tabiti, our chief goddess, and then ask to be released from service. He promised Judah would be Scythia’s last campaign. We’ve done everything he asked, Azat. I’m only asking for one woman from Jerusalem to lead the Scythians home.”

  Chapter 12

  Merari, Syria

  “The Babylonian army pursued [King Zedekiah] and overtook him in the plains of Jericho. All his soldiers were separated from him and scattered, and he was captured.

  He was taken to the king of Babylon at Riblah, where sentence was pronounced on him.”

  -2 Kings 25:5–6

  On our final day of travel to Riblah, we stopped twice before midday on the banks of the Orontos. Both times I expected to feel the effects of oleander in my water, but to my surprise, neither Idan or Azat poisoned me after last night’s confession. Instead, they forced the last doses of potion down my throat.

  I was strong enough now to sit up in the sedan. My swollen abdomen had decreased to a more sightly four-month baby bulge—though I hadn’t slept with a man since Elon was taken captive—and both my cough and fever subsided to mere annoyance. The malaise lingered, but I attributed it to my cushioned sedan atop the camel I’d named Mara—bitter. The poor creature had mournful eyes, a spiteful temper, and she spit at every man who came near her.

  I envied her courage.

  Shading my eyes from the midday sun, I shouted ahead to Idan for the fourth time this morning. “How much farther to Riblah?”

  He shrugged a shoulder, thinking that would suffice. Foolish man.

  I’d rather feel a dagger than endure silence. Unwinding my head scarf, I twisted it and used it to snap Mara’s rump. She surged into a gallop, pulling the reins around Idan’s hand, and nearly dragged him off his prized black stallion. The troops behind us hooted and praised my resourcefulness.

  My captor wasn’t amused. “Why not simply ask me to kill you?” His stallion now trotted beside Mara.

  Checking over my shoulder at the troops climbing the hill, I made sure I wouldn’t be overheard. “Why haven’t you and Azat told the others my real name?”

  His eyes remained fixed ahead and I waited for his answer. What held his fascination? Following his gaze, I saw a sprawling walled city with thousands upon thousands of soldiers creating a second wall around it.

  He turned to face me, fire in his eyes. “Welcome to Riblah,” he said. “You are Tabiti. You will meet King Nebuchadnezzar. And you will provide a safe journey back to Scythia for my men and me.”

  The words felt like the dull end of a spear in my belly, each one a blow. Anger warred with despair, and all I could do was shake my head no.

  As a silent threat, he pointed to a valley in the distance, and I instantly covered my mouth to stifle a cry. Like ants on the roads we’d traveled days ago flowed an endless sea of soldiers and captives—at least that’s what I supposed them to be. Some on horseback, some stooped and stumbling, the sight was staggering. A countryside covered by humanity converging on Riblah to pay homage to the King of the World. My stomach rolled, and I lost my morning gruel over the side of my sedan.

  While I wiped my chin, he leaned over me but kept his voice low. “Still want me to tell everyone your name is Merari, the Hebrew?” Idan’s smug grin sickened me.

  Glancing over my shoulder again at those coming after me, I looked down at my bandaged feet and clean hands. My new robe and head scarf. Fear silenced my conscience, and I settled back into the soft cushions, feeling filthier than a priestess after Ishtar’s feast.

  I’d become rather accustomed to the Scythians’ appearance by now, but the Riblah valley’s reaction to Idan’s processional reminded me of their startling bearing. Soldiers by their campfires halted conversations to stop and stare at the muscular arms bulging from sleeveless leather tunics, belted at the waist. Tattoos told each man’s life journey depicting family, battles, and faith. Intricate designs covered every visible piece of skin, except their faces, which were unique among Nebuchadnezzar’s minions. Lighter skin, almond-shaped eyes, and flattened noses and cheekbones even stopped sword drills while the Scythians passed.

  I noted other ethnic variations and each nation camped beneath a different standard. The Edomites bore an eagle on their flag. The Syrians camped under the symbol of a hawk. The Arabs, a palm with two crossed swords. Azat galloped from his position at rear guard, carrying the Scythian standard of a golden stag. Riding alongside Idan, they led us toward the camp’s center, where one extravagant white tent posted a unique flag of its own. A strange animal I didn’t recognize.

  Idan lifted his fist in the air, halting the regiment about a hundred paces from the white tent. He and Azat spoke too quietly for me to hear, but whatever was said seemed to please Azat. He rode back to his men, falling in line with the first row, and faced the fine tent. Idan dismount
ed and offered his reins to a stable boy, tapping my camel’s shoulder. Mara buckled her knees and seemed content to rest, but I politely declined when Idan offered his hand.

  “You go ahead. I’ll wait with your men.”

  I detected a faint smile. “Get off the camel, Tabiti.”

  I glanced over my shoulder at Azat. He lifted a brow like my ima’s silent, Don’t make me use the rod. In Azat’s case, it was more likely to be his dagger. I accepted Idan’s hand and stepped out of the sedan onto Riblah’s grassy carpet.

  He laced my arm around his, and leaned over slightly, keeping his voice low. “You are dressed as a Scythian goddess. Act like one.”

  How did a Scythian goddess act? I decided to pose a safer question and pointed at the flag on the white tent. “What is that creature?”

  “It’s the Sirrush, the representation of Nebuchadnezzar’s patron god, Marduk. Part lion, part dragon, part eagle and snake.”

  “It’s ugly.”

  He coughed, masking a grin. “Spoken like a Scythian goddess but not likely to win Nebuchadnezzar’s favor.” He stopped walking and held my gaze. “We get one chance to convince him you’re Tabiti. My future hangs in the balance—as does your life.”

  “But I don’t want to live in Scythia.” The words were out before I could stop them.

  His eyes widened, showing the same surprise I felt, but his cheeks quickly shaded crimson. His wrath was preempted, however, by the approach of pounding hooves. Idan pulled me off the path, uttering a Scythian curse as horsemen in Babylonian armor passed us.

  I waved away a cloud of dust, and he grabbed my hand. “Can you run?” I gave half a nod, and he flew. I could barely keep pace, gasping for breath by the time we arrived at the white tent.

  The lead rider disappeared into the tent shouting, “We’ve captured King Zedekiah!”

  Idan skidded to a halt and stood like a statue. Panting like one of the horses around us, he released my hand, his clenching into tight fists. I couldn’t decide if it was safer to move toward him or closer to the soldiers on horseback. What did news of Zedekiah’s capture mean to the crown prince of Scythia?

  Without warning, he grabbed my arm and fairly dragged me back toward his troops. “I’ll speak with Nebuchadnezzar tomorrow or maybe next—”

  “Prince Idanthyrsus!” A bass voice rattled my chest, sending a chill down my spine.

  Idan’s leather boot slipped on the grass, and his fingers bit into my arm. He whispered while turning us around. “Don’t say a word.” His hand moved to my shoulder, forcing me into a bow as deep as his. “Great and mighty King of the World, I am honored to hear you speak my full name.”

  I heard the swish of footsteps on grass and saw large, brown feet in bejeweled sandals stop a single pace away. “Why are you running like a desert hare in the opposite direction?” King Nebuchadnezzar tipped up my chin. “And who is this wilted flower?”

  I stared into the face of evil. He was stunning. Gleaming white teeth peeked between an oiled and curled black beard. Black eyes danced over my form with the confidence of a man who had never been denied. Purple robe. Gold wrist bands. Jeweled belt.

  Idan stood tall, matching Nebuchadnezzar’s height, appearing every bit as strong. “I came to make introductions, but when I heard the good news of Zedekiah’s capture, I realized my business could wait until we celebrate your great victory.” He bowed again as if preparing to leave, but Nebuchadnezzar snared my arm.

  “Nonsense. I’d like to meet your woman. We have time before the rebels arrive.” Nebuchadnezzar started back to his tent, dragging me with him.

  Casting a pleading glance over my shoulder, I saw pink splotches turn crimson on Idan’s neck. My legs turned to water, knowing that what awaited me in the tent would make a Scythian blush.

  Chapter 13

  Idan

  “I will set my face against them and make them an example and a byword . . .

  Then you will know that I am the Lord.”

  -Ezekiel 14:8

  When General Nebuzaradan and his troops rode into camp like madmen, I knew he’d likely tell the king my regiment left Jerusalem without securing his permission. I had hoped to arrive in Riblah before the general had time to poison the king against me. My regiment left to protect my prized goddess—while the Judean king scampered like a rat through Jerusalem’s underground tunnels.

  It was another on a growing list of my mistakes on this campaign.

  “May King Nebuchadnezzar live forever.” I heard running footfalls behind me and drew my dagger.

  The king turned, holding his blade at Tabiti’s throat. Azat skidded to a stop, and fell to both knees, hands extended before him. “May I guard the goddess while you speak with my prince?”

  An amused smile lit Nebuchadnezzar’s hard features. “The goddess, you say? Now I’m even more interested in this wilted flower.” He pulled her into the tent, and I bent to growl at my captain.

  “Stay with the men and leave diplomacy to me.” I rushed inside and found Nebuchadnezzar sitting on an elevated ebony throne covered with furs and animal skins.

  His six top commanders taunted Tabiti, laughing and prodding her with their spear handles like a mule in their stables. I met the king’s gaze, and he raised an eyebrow as if playing a game. My move.

  While the commanders focused on Tabiti, I slipped into the shadowy corners. Staying low, I roared into three commanders, tackling them before the others knew it. Amid the confusion, I flung Tabiti aside and disarmed the other three, inflicting only minor wounds.

  “Well done.” Nebuchadnezzar held Tabiti against his chest, dagger again poised at her throat. She trembled but didn’t whimper—not even when he leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Please, Prince Idan, introduce me to the goddess who caused you to abandon your duties in Jerusalem.”

  General Nebuzaradan, one of three I’d tackled, extended his hand, demanding my dagger. Refusing to give up my only weapon, I glared at the king, who drew his blade gently across Tabiti’s throat.

  At the first sign of blood, I cried out, “No!” and offered up my weapon.

  Nebuzaradan backhanded me. “You’re a fool.”

  “Enough!” The king lowered the dagger and pressed Tabiti to the floor beside his throne. “Your goddess will sit with me while you explain yourself, Scythian.”

  Forcing calm, I met her gaze as she wiped the small wound with her scarf. She offered a weak smile and a nod, giving me confidence to continue. “King Nebuchadnezzar, may I introduce Tabiti, Scythia’s mother goddess, protector of hearth and wealth, purity and fidelity.”

  He grabbed her chin roughly, turning her face side to side. “Your goddess appears very Hebrew.”

  She remained silent—as I’d instructed her. I must convince Babylon’s king now. “When I entered a home in the lower city, I saw proof that she had healed a dead boy. I secreted her to my tent and returned to help my regiment finish sweeping the southern city.” I cast a loathing glare on General Nebuzaradan. “Upon completion of our mission, we noticed increasing chaos in the upper city. Fearing an enemy uprising, my regiment charged up the hill to assist but stopped when we saw Babylonian regiments destroying Jerusalem’s temple. A clear violation of your orders, my king.”

  Noting the general’s growing unease, I was certain triumph was imminent. “Since your chief wise man—Belteshazzar—cautioned us to reverence Yahweh’s temple and you, great king, commanded orderly disassembly, my regiment followed your orders above the general’s and returned to camp. In absolute obedience, we hoped to escape retribution from you or the Hebrews’ powerful god.”

  Nebuchadnezzar’s eyes aimed daggers at his general. “You failed to mention the disorder at the temple. I can’t afford the ire of Belteshazzar’s god.”

  “I saw no reason to alarm you, my king.” Nebuzaradan bowed and remained in the penitent pose. “Your instructions were to find the prophet Jeremiah, care for him, and carefully dismantle the valuables from Yahweh’s temple in order to transport
them to Babylon.” He lifted his head. “The prophet Jeremiah has been placed in the care of the newly-appointed governor, Gedaliah. Three regiments remain in Jerusalem to catalog the temple items, which will arrive in Riblah within the week. King Zedekiah, his officials, and his family have been captured and will arrive shortly to receive your judgment.”

  He cast a fleeting sneer in my direction. “Prince Idan exaggerates to shift attention from his own treachery. His regiment ignored the chain of command. They are cowards who deserted their fellow Scythians, leaving the other three thousand of King Saulius’ men in Jerusalem under my command.” The general pointed at me with a gold-ringed, stubby finger. “His entire regiment should be executed.”

  I slapped his finger out of my face. “I left my three thousand Scythians because we’re not cowards, you ignorant cow—”

  “Silence!” Nebuchadnezzar shouted.

  I bowed to one knee, as did the general when he saw my deference. In a moment of excruciating silence, the sounds of more horses and footsteps outside was followed by a rustling of the tent flap. I didn’t dare turn to see who entered.

  “What?” the king growled.

  “The rebels have arrived and await your judgment.”

  I rose in time to see Nebuchadnezzar’s eyes narrow at me. “Prince Idan, you left Jerusalem without the permission of your commanding officer.” He shifted his ire to the general. “And you disregarded Belteshazzar’s warnings and disobeyed my direct command to treat Yahweh’s temple with care.” He grabbed Tabiti’s arm and pulled her alongside him, halting between us. “You will both pay close attention to how I deal with Zedekiah, a man under my authority who refused to follow instructions. And we’ll see how a goddess responds to greatness.” He proceeded out of the tent, dragging Tabiti with him.

  Chapter 14