By the Waters of Babylon

by Mesu Andrews

  “My dream fulfilled.” Azat breathed the words, his face gray.

  His dream from Yahweh. It felt like another betrayal. “Tell me the dream.”

  He drew both hands down his face with a weary sigh and closed his eyes as if watching it again in his mind. “King Nebuchadnezzar slipped into a tent where your father slept and poured honey in his ear. When your father woke, he emerged from the tent and gave Nebuchadnezzar seven fine stallions, the same man seated on each horse.” Turning to me, he shook his head, sorrow leaking into his voice. “It was you, Idan. One of you on seven horses—the number of completeness. Your father gave you over to the King of the World.”

  The ball of hate grew in my belly, churning. “So I am not to be king of Scythia.”

  “If Governor Meshach gave you this message, perhaps he has more information.”

  I folded the parchment and returned it to my belt, focusing on the man I’d trusted all my life. “Do you serve me, Azat, or has Yahweh stolen your allegiance?”

  His pained expression stalled my breathing, but he slammed his fist against his chest. “I will never fail you, my friend.”

  He didn’t answer my question, but I still saw loyalty in his eyes.

  Chapter 25

  Merari

  “You can trust a friend who wounds you with his honesty, but your enemy’s pretended flattery comes from insincerity.”

  -Proverbs 27:6

  The ruffian soldier returned Helah and me from our baths to where Mara still lounged on the grass. Still soaking wet, my long, black hair hung loose down my back, my red robe clinging to my healthier frame.

  Idan and Azat had returned from their meeting with the governor and hammered tent pegs into the ground as if driving them into stone. Idan noticed our arrival with a glance but ignored the soldier who escorted us.

  The man cleared his throat to get Azat’s attention. “They’re clean but still stink of captivity.” The captain looked up, his eyes taking inventory of my form.

  Heat singed my cheeks. Was it anger or humiliation? I rushed to our donkey that carried food supplies, intent on setting up camp. Helah followed, silent.

  Azat dismissed the vile soldier, and I breathed a sigh of relief. At least Helah and I could prepare tonight’s meal without fear for our lives. Or should we fear Idan and Azat now that we were in Babylon? I untethered the basket containing the hand mill, the last sack of grain, and our flint stones. I slung it over my shoulder and turned toward the tent, running headlong into Azat.

  He captured me in his arms. “Let me explain.” His whisper came from less than a handbreadth away.

  “No!” I shoved him away. “Leave me alone.” Fighting panic, I searched for a shady spot to escape him.

  “Please!” He reached for my arm, pulling me around to face him.

  “I’m going to catch some fish,” Helah shouted from beside the donkey, lifting a rough-woven net in the air. “Would anyone like to come?”

  “Go, Helah.” Azat spoke calmly to her but stayed focused on me. “I just want to talk with her.”

  When my friend hesitated, Idan abandoned his tent project and walked toward her. “Go.” With a mournful glance, she left me with my betrayers.

  Idan threw down his hammer and reached for a waterskin. “Let’s take her over there, Azat.” He led the way to a shady spot beneath a willow tree, secluded from the rest of the camp.

  Azat’s hand was gentle on my arm, but I couldn’t stop trembling. Everything had changed in Sippar. What would they do to me now? Anger gave way to terror, and my legs turned to water. Stumbling, Azat bent to catch me, and the kindness in his eyes cut me deeper than a dagger. I pulled my hand away. “Don’t touch me.” The words came out on a sob, and I followed Idan to the shade without Azat’s hand to guide me.

  The prince pointed to a fallen log where I was to sit. I obeyed. Azat stood beside him but said nothing. Idan removed a piece of parchment from his belt, unfolded it, and held it before me. “Read it.”

  King Nebuchadnezzar in league with your father. Was I supposed to care?

  Azat sighed. “The governor secretly gave this message to Idan to help us.”

  Idan sat down opposite me. “Yahweh told Azat the same thing in a dream.”

  “Really?” Sarcasm dripped like honey. “Yahweh would never speak to a Scythian.” Then I glared at Azat. “It sickens me to admit Yahweh spoke to a liar.”

  His spine stiffened. “I’ve never lied to you, Merari.”

  “You didn’t tell me we were only going to three cities.”

  Idan threw the parchment at me. “And you forget yourself, woman. You are a captive of Babylon. We owe you nothing.”

  The truth stole my breath. He was right. I had nothing. No family. No possessions. No home. I stood, trying to escape before tears humiliated me. “Leave me alone then.”

  But Azat’s gentle hand circled my waist, his lips pressed against my ear. “I have never lied to you, Merari. Please. Listen to Idan.”

  I covered a sob, infuriated by my weakness, and stood like a stone.

  “Nebuchadnezzar commanded me to place exiles in the three cities with the largest Jewish populations. If your husband was as talented as you say, and he survived the exile, he’s likely in the capital or one of these three cities.”

  I turned around to face Idan. “The capital?”

  “Nebuchadnezzar forbade me to enter the city of Babylon, but I’ll send messengers to every city in the province with known Jewish artisans—including the capital—to inquire about Elon.”

  He seemed sincere, and when I looked again at Azat, he lifted my hand and kissed my palm. “Idan will keep his word. He is a man of integrity.”

  I pulled my hand away, feeling more married in Sippar and still uncertain of Azat’s intentions.

  “Merari.” My name on Idan’s lips startled me, and the defeat I saw on his features was equally surprising. “I’ll never be king of Scythia, but I still hold out hope to return, beg my father’s forgiveness, and see my wife and son again.”

  The thought of anyone being separated from family pained me. “Surely, your father won’t keep them from you.”

  The hard lines returned to his features. “My father has never cared about family. I can only hope that my three thousand loyal soldiers will be enough incentive to welcome me home.” He motioned to Azat. “My captain will lead the men home if their loyalty turns toward my father. We’ll know more after the meeting with Sippar’s governor tonight.”

  Azat nodded and cast an unsure glance at me. My traitorous heart skipped a beat, and I blurted, “Would you like me to accompany you and play my harp for the governor?”

  What did I just say?

  Idan’s eyes brightened. “That’s a good idea. I’m sure Meshach would enjoy songs from his homeland.”

  I wanted to decline, make an excuse, reconsider, but the approval in Azat’s eyes made it impossible. Hadn’t I vowed to never again play the harp unless it was to praise Yahweh or honor Jerusalem? “I will play the songs of Zion then.”

  Idan’s eyes met mine with a warmth I hadn’t seen since he thought I was Tabiti. “I would expect nothing less.”

  Chapter 26

  Idan

  “Son of man, mark out two roads for the sword of the king of Babylon to take, both starting from the same country. Make a signpost where the road branches off to the city.”

  -Ezekiel 21:19

  I finished braiding my stallion’s mane and pressed a kiss against his jaw. “You are my champion.”

  Azat finished primping his mount, and Merari emerged from the tent in a deep purple robe we’d found in one of the plunder wagons. She was dazzling. Azat couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  I thought of the harp wrapped in the blanket on my supply donkey. If I returned it tonight, would she praise me for saving it or hate me for keeping it from her all these weeks? I left it hidden and cleared my throat, realizing I’d been staring.

  Azat leapt onto his horse with one good leg, and
I hoisted Merari up behind him. Stiff at first, she awkwardly placed her hands on his shoulders. “Grab his waist or you’ll kiss the ground when we gallop.” I took two steps and swung onto my mount, and he started a gallop without a command. I looked over my shoulder halfway to the city and saw the Jewess, arms tight around Azat, laughing. She was good for him. They were good together.

  As promised, a guard at the gate led us to Meshach’s home, a two-story mud brick structure near the city’s main entrance. A young girl with long brown hair welcomed us at his door, greeting Merari in Hebrew. We followed her through a lush courtyard of fruit trees and flowering bushes. After passing a tiered fountain, we arrived in the dining room, where Meshach waited at a low-lying table, already sipping a glass of wine.

  “I see you brought friends, Prince Idan.” He motioned to several cushions around the table. “Please, sit down.”

  We bowed, and I made introductions as we approached the table. “My captain and lifelong friend, Azat, and this is Merari. She lived in Jerusalem and played her harp while we were in King Nebuchadnezzar’s camp.”

  Meshach studied her. “Merari, did you say?” He was on his feet, speaking in Hebrew before I could answer. “Did you realize your name matches the musical division of Levitical Temple servants?” He pointed to the harp Nebuchadnezzar had given her, tucked under her arm. “To be a woman with such talent is extraordinary.”

  “Thank you, my lord.” Her voice quaked. “My husband was a Merarite and always said my name was the reason he chose me.” Meshach laughed, and Merari’s shoulders relaxed. She ducked her head and added, “Elon taught me to play. He was the finest harp maker in Jerusalem.”

  Meshach’s smile dimmed. “Was?”

  “He was taken in the exile eleven years ago.” She lifted her eyes to meet his gaze. “I’m hopeful Yahweh will reunite us somehow, now that I’m a captive too. Do you know of Elon, Jerusalem’s harp maker?”

  Eyes kind, the governor shook his head. “I’m sorry, my dear, no. I know everyone in Sippar, and there is no harp maker, but if your Elon was Jerusalem’s best, he would have likely been taken to Nippur or Erech, the cities my brothers govern.” Looking to me, his expression was more command than request. “Commander, you’ll need to ask Shadrach and Abednego specifically about Elon. They’ll know if he’s in their cities.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “Good. Good. Please, sit. Eat.” He clapped his hands, and servants flooded the room, carrying roast meats, fresh fruits and vegetables, bread and cheeses. Merari took her place in the corner, preparing to play. “Oh, no,” he said, waving her back to the table. “You’re my guest. First, you eat. Then you play.” He winked. “I’ll want to hear the songs of Zion.” Meshach dictated our places. Me, at his right. Azat, on his left. And Merari beside Azat. I wanted to dislike him or chafe at his authority or regard him with suspicion.

  But he was entirely too likable.

  He began a polite discussion about our journey from Rezeph, but I could wait no longer. “I need to know about the parchment.”

  “Yes, I’m sure you have many questions.” He clapped his hands again, and another servant brought in a large scroll, positioning it on the table so we could all see it. “I received this from Yahweh’s prophet almost seven years ago. Read that portion there, Prince Idan.” He pointed with a lamb bone in his hand.

  “I’m sorry, Lord Meshach. I speak Hebrew, but I don’t read it. Would you mind reading it for me?”

  “Of course. Of course. It says, ‘Son of man.’” He licked his fingers. “That’s what Yahweh calls Ezekiel when He speaks a prophetic message to him. “Son of man, mark out two roads for the sword of the king of Babylon to take, both starting from the same country.”

  He looked up at me as if I was supposed to understand. “I’m sorry, Lord Meshach. Am I supposed to—”

  “Seven years ago, Yahweh told Ezekiel that Nebuchadnezzar would divide his ‘sword’—his army—and send the captives in two quantities from the same location. Like he did with you and General Nebuzaradan when he sent you from Rezeph. I knew it was Ezekiel’s prophecy coming to pass when the general’s spy arrived two days ago.”

  The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. Which was more disturbing—that the spy had come to this man with the general’s message or the spiritual implications? “Why did the spy come to you?” I was more equipped for military strategy.

  “I am to stall your departure. The king has given Nebuzaradan’s assassins permission to kill you.”

  I reached for my wine goblet, willing my hand to remain steady. “My men won’t let that happen.”

  Meshach took a slow sip from his goblet and set it back on the table. “If I were you, Prince Idan, I’d trust Yahweh’s protection over your troops. If Yahweh knew seven years ago that Nebuchadnezzar would split both his troops and his captives, I’d wager He has a plan for you.”

  I set aside my wine, and shoved away the scroll. “That’s all coincidence.”

  “Really?” Meshach’s grin widened. “Is it a coincidence you’ve been ordered to deliver exiles to the only three cities in Babylon governed by Jews, and the remaining two governors are my brothers? Is it a coincidence that my brothers and I each have a personal knowledge of Yahweh’s miraculous power to save?” He leaned close, eyes narrowing in challenge. “You’re going to need that power to survive Babylon’s treachery, my friend.”

  “Three brothers?” Merari interrupted. “You’re not . . . Are you? King Nebuchadnezzar told me a story about three brothers saved from a smelting furnace . . .”

  “Yes, my brothers and I refused to bend the knee to Nebuchadnezzar’s ridiculous statue. It’s still standing on the Dura Plain. You’ll see it when you sail downriver to Nippur.”

  “What was He like?” Azat sounded breathless. “Yahweh, I mean.”

  “We don’t have time for this.” I slammed my hand on the table. “If Nebuchadnezzar wants me dead, I must leave the captives, take my men, and flee.”

  Meshach shook his head while I spoke. “You can’t flee. You must complete the mission, providing no grounds for treason. Leave a third of the exiles in Sippar; take your second group down the western tributary to Nippur; and make your final deposit in Erech. But do it quickly, and get out of Babylon before they have a chance to send assassins.” Meshach shoved away his plate and wiped his fingers on his robe. “Word about the exiles’ arrival hasn’t spread yet. I suggest we work out the details for Sippar so you can be on your way to Nippur right away. You made good time from Rezeph—remarkable, really, considering the number of exiles in your train—but you must continue to travel quickly, before General Nebuzaradan bands together with the remainder of his army in Babylon.”

  I lifted my goblet for the servant to refill—unable to keep my hand from shaking this time.

  Chapter 27

  Merari

  “Babylon, the jewel of kingdoms, the pride and glory of the Babylonians, will be overthrown by God like Sodom and Gomorrah.”

  -Isaiah 13:19

  Meshach invited Helah and me to remain in his villa during the two days he and Idan worked to place the exiles in Sippar. Our time there was a gift. His household servants, all Judean exiles, educated us on the culture, history, food, and dress of our new land. The governor even gave Helah and me each a new pair of sandals on the morning of our departure. He helped us into his fine carriage. The driver, Jehoshaphat, followed the governor’s gilded palanquin to the docks, where we would embark on the rest of our journey.

  The carriage stopped on the docks, and Jehoshaphat offered his hand to steady us down, but I was too overwhelmed by the sights, smells, and sounds on the docks. I stood in the carriage, gawking at our Scythian caravan—now missing a third of our captive friends. The reality hit me like a brick.

  I clutched Jehoshaphat’s hand. “Where have they taken everyone?”

  He leaned close, speaking only for Helah and me to hear. “Every exile serves in a business, home, or temple. If they prove excep
tional in some talent or knowledge, they’re educated and promoted.”

  “Come, Merari!” Idan shouted, waving at us to hurry.

  Jehoshaphat patted my hand and extracted his from my grip. “They’ll adjust, Mistress Merari. We all do. Yahweh is good in Babylon.”

  His confident smile coaxed me from the carriage, and Helah followed close behind. Yahweh is good in Babylon. The words did little to console me.

  As we approached Idan and Azat, Meshach gave instructions. “I’m sending my steward, Jehoshaphat, to be your guide for the journey. He’s more trustworthy than any Babylonian you’ll encounter, and he’s often taken me down the tributaries to visit Shadrach and Abednego.” I noticed surprise on Jehoshaphat’s face, but the older man winked at me, seeming unperturbed. I was relieved to have him with us.

  Near the river, dock hands loaded supplies and humans on large, round vessels, woven of reed and covered in black pitch. How could they carry horses and wagons full of gold? I tapped Jehoshaphat’s shoulder. “Those don’t look particularly sturdy. How many will we need to carry our whole caravan?”

  “Are you our new commander?” Idan shouted at me over the dock chaos. “Get on the first quffa with Jehoshaphat and wait.”

  Meshach’s steward bowed and nudged both Helah and me toward the first boat. He whispered as we walked. “Don’t worry, Mistress Merari. The quffas are very safe and can carry a dozen humans—or six of the Scythians with their horses.” Helah and I stepped onto the first rocking vessel, joining Idan and Azat’s stallions and four more warriors with their horses. My fingernails dug into the reed side-rail when Idan and Azat joined us, rocking us mercilessly.