Shadow of the Mountain (Shadow of the Mountain Book #1): Exodus

by Cliff Graham

  I recoiled as though the blade’s edge was about to come down on me, and indeed it did, all in a blinding rush. The sky became completely black. Wind erupted from every direction. Fire in the heavens, smoke, fury, wrath, sand stinging my face, the building shaking beneath me.

  What was happening? What was happening?

  Then all went still.

  The moon reappeared. The stars resumed their watch, as if nothing had occurred at all.

  Later, when we had the time to discuss our experiences, once we were gone from Egypt, I found out what had happened that night. Moses had told the Hebrews in Goshen to take the blood of the lamb and mark their doors, to prepare the meal with haste and to bake without leaven, and if they did these things, the Destroyer would pass over them.

  These things you know. But I, in Memphis among the Egyptians, knew none of it. I stood on the roof of the palace and tried to grasp what had just happened and whether I had gone mad at last.

  The night was perfectly quiet. And then it was not.

  The rush of wind and fire, instant though it had been, had woken up the city. I listened to the masses stirring. I listened to the first cries of shock, then more, then more after that, then even more until there were wails of agony that cannot be imagined and that I must fail to describe adequately, for it was the sound of suffering most profound, Othniel, the sound I had heard in the nightmare, but far, far worse.

  Women screaming.

  And screaming.

  And screaming.

  My ears hurt, it was so loud. I was bewildered by it all. What had happened?

  Inside the palace below and behind me I heard even more of it. Men were joining the cries. Weeping and panic-stricken wailing. What were they seeing?

  I finally roused myself enough to run into the halls. I searched around for an hour and realized there were dead bodies everywhere. Children, adults, many bodies scattered around. Who had died? Why?

  I finally made it to the king’s chambers.

  He was there, bare-chested and covered in sweat, pacing back and forth, holding a limp form in his arms, the deepest tears of sorrow streaming down his face.

  “My son! My son! My firstborn!”

  I will confess to you now that much of that night is lost to me. I have closed it away. To pry into the depths of such despair and heartache does no man any good.

  But you can know that Moses and Aaron were summoned that very night, and when they appeared before Pharaoh, the mighty Thutmose III, ruler of Egypt, they saw that the king’s eyes were filled with tears. “Go,” Thutmose choked out.

  I found myself standing at the edge of the palace lagoon the morning after the Destroyer came. The king was swimming back and forth across it for his daily exercise. I noticed his stroke was more frenzied than normal. All of his movements were so.

  Eventually, he exited the water and let the slaves dry him off.

  “Was it the Hebrew god who came?”

  I looked up and realized he was talking to me.

  “I do not know, my king. Forgive me.”

  The agony of the loss of his child hung on the king’s face. He had none of the proud air I’d known so well. His immortal life was in danger, for he had no other male heirs to inherit his line yet. When he was fully clothed again he gestured for me to follow him.

  We walked along the corridors. The bodies of the royal household had been removed and were being embalmed in the temple.

  Every firstborn child. That was the curse. The end of male lines all over the kingdom. The assurance that Seth would triumph and few would make it through the Duat.

  As though hearing these thoughts, Pharaoh said, “This Yahweh has halted my line.” His voice was weak and broken. I could not help but think of the man I had once fought next to and how he no longer resembled him.

  “He has shown power, my king” was the only thing I could think to say.

  “I have ordered the Hebrews to leave. You will oversee their departure and report to me when they are gone.”

  “Yes, great king.”

  “And then perhaps we could go for a ride again when you return. Like the old days.”

  He looked at me with a somber expression. I smiled slightly and bowed. “Of course, great king.”

  He nodded, and I retreated away. If I had known that this was the last time we would ever speak together, perhaps I would have said something more meaningful. I did think to turn around, however, when I reached the end of the corridor.

  The king was staring out over the ruined gardens of his palace, out over the Nile. Perhaps he was looking toward the old training grounds of our Red Scorpions, and thinking of that day of magnificent battle we had known together.

  May the Lord forgive me, but I had sympathy for him in that moment.

  But only a moment.

  I went north to the land of Goshen where I encountered the hordes of Hebrews, going through the Egyptian homes and taking everything with them. All of the gold and anything else to plunder was gathered.

  I had not spent time among them in their masses, but here was the most clamorous of sights.

  You will know of most of this because it was written down by the scribes of Moses. I will not improve upon their account.

  But it was this river of people, spread in every direction in their hundreds of thousands, like a herd of cattle that had been allowed to wander, that bade me to follow them. They ambled their way from the lush green land they had been dwelling in toward the vastness of the eastern deserts.

  I trailed them for a while, and then I knew. I just understood. My destiny was to go with them. It was no longer behind me in the golden land.

  Their god had captivated me. A powerful god was nothing new to us, but a powerful god with compassion? A god who would destroy and destroy again everything in the empire of the ages, just to protect the laughing little girl next to me, tugging a goat along? To bring her and her family out of bondage?

  I had to know more. Was it true what Moses had said? Did this god accept others?

  Whatever he was, and whatever he would do, I could no longer dwell in Egypt. Startled at how quickly I had come to this knowledge, I reined in the horses and took a moment to gaze behind me, toward the west. My last Egyptian sunset.

  It was not Ra. Ra had been swallowed. This sun was a remnant, a mere process of light.

  The gods I had known were no more.

  19

  The Outstretched Hand

  Othniel rose to light another lamp. The storm outside blew steadily on. They hardly noticed it anymore.

  “I am exhausted, Othniel.”

  “I will leave you now, Uncle.”

  “No, I wish to hear of our deliverance.”

  Othniel looked at him, confused. “You have been telling me of your deliverance. It has been compelling. Life-changing for me.”

  “No,” Caleb said quietly. “I wish to hear it from the hand of Moses. I wish to worship the Lord as I hear the tale of his delivering us. I will tell you of the wilderness years tomorrow. Tonight, I want to hear about the end of our bondage.” He closed his eyes and settled back with a smile on his face.

  Othniel smiled in return. He sat down and pulled out the scroll. As the storm raged and the lightning flashed and the wind and rain ground through the mountains, he read the story of Yahweh’s deliverance.

  “Now when Pharaoh had let the people go, God did not lead them by the way of the land of the Philistines, even though it was near; for God said, ‘The people might change their minds when they see war, and return to Egypt.’ Hence God led the people around by the way of the wilderness to the Red Sea; and the sons of Israel went up in martial array from the land of Egypt.

  “Moses took the bones of Joseph with him, for he had made the sons of Israel solemnly swear, saying, ‘God will surely take care of you, and you shall carry my bones from here with you.’ Then they set out from Succoth and camped in Etham on the edge of the wilderness.

  “The Lord was going before them in a pilla
r of cloud by day to lead them on the way, and in a pillar of fire by night to give them light, that they might travel by day and by night. He did not take away the pillar of cloud by day, nor the pillar of fire by night, from before the people.

  “Now the Lord spoke to Moses, saying, ‘Tell the sons of Israel to turn back and camp before Pi-hahiroth, between Migdol and the sea; you shall camp in front of Baal-zephon, opposite it, by the sea. For Pharaoh will say of the sons of Israel, They are wandering aimlessly in the land; the wilderness has shut them in. Thus I will harden Pharaoh’s heart, and he will chase after them; and I will be honored through Pharaoh and all his army, and the Egyptians will know that I am the Lord.’ And they did so.

  “When the king of Egypt was told that the people had fled, Pharaoh and his servants had a change of heart toward the people, and they said, ‘What is this we have done, that we have let Israel go from serving us?’ So he made his chariot ready and took his people with him; and he took six hundred select chariots, and all the other chariots of Egypt with officers over all of them.

  “The Lord hardened the heart of Pharaoh, king of Egypt, and he chased after the sons of Israel as the sons of Israel were going out boldly. Then the Egyptians chased after them with all the horses and chariots of Pharaoh, his horsemen and his army, and they overtook them camping by the sea, beside Pi-hahiroth, in front of Baal-zephon.

  “As Pharaoh drew near, the sons of Israel looked, and behold, the Egyptians were marching after them, and they became very frightened; so the sons of Israel cried out to the Lord. Then they said to Moses, ‘Is it because there were no graves in Egypt that you have taken us away to die in the wilderness? Why have you dealt with us in this way, bringing us out of Egypt? Is this not the word that we spoke to you in Egypt, saying, Leave us alone that we may serve the Egyptians? For it would have been better for us to serve the Egyptians than to die in the wilderness.’

  “But Moses said to the people, ‘Do not fear! Stand by and see the salvation of the Lord which He will accomplish for you today; for the Egyptians whom you have seen today, you will never see them again forever. The Lord will fight for you while you keep silent.’

  “Then the Lord said to Moses, ‘Why are you crying out to Me? Tell the sons of Israel to go forward. As for you, lift up your staff and stretch out your hand over the sea and divide it, and the sons of Israel shall go through the midst of the sea on dry land. As for Me, behold, I will harden the hearts of the Egyptians so that they will go in after them; and I will be honored through Pharaoh and all his army, through his chariots and his horsemen. Then the Egyptians will know that I am the Lord, when I am honored through Pharaoh, through his chariots and his horsemen.’

  “The angel of God, who had been going before the camp of Israel, moved and went behind them; and the pillar of cloud moved from before them and stood behind them. So it came between the camp of Egypt and the camp of Israel; and there was the cloud along with the darkness, yet it gave light at night. Thus the one did not come near the other all night.

  “Then Moses stretched out his hand over the sea; and the Lord swept the sea back by a strong east wind all night and turned the sea into dry land, so the waters were divided. The sons of Israel went through the midst of the sea on the dry land, and the waters were like a wall to them on their right hand and on their left. Then the Egyptians took up the pursuit, and all Pharaoh’s horses, his chariots and his horsemen went in after them into the midst of the sea.

  “At the morning watch, the Lord looked down on the army of the Egyptians through the pillar of fire and cloud and brought the army of the Egyptians into confusion. He caused their chariot wheels to swerve, and He made them drive with difficulty; so the Egyptians said, ‘Let us flee from Israel, for the Lord is fighting for them against the Egyptians.’

  “Then the Lord said to Moses, ‘Stretch out your hand over the sea so that the waters may come back over the Egyptians, over their chariots and their horsemen.’ So Moses stretched out his hand over the sea, and the sea returned to its normal state at daybreak, while the Egyptians were fleeing right into it; then the Lord overthrew the Egyptians in the midst of the sea.

  “The waters returned and covered the chariots and the horsemen, even Pharaoh’s entire army that had gone into the sea after them; not even one of them remained. But the sons of Israel walked on dry land through the midst of the sea, and the waters were like a wall to them on their right hand and on their left.

  “Thus the Lord saved Israel that day from the hand of the Egyptians, and Israel saw the Egyptians dead on the seashore.

  “When Israel saw the great power which the Lord had used against the Egyptians, the people feared the Lord, and they believed in the Lord and in His servant Moses.”

  Othniel looked up from his reading because he heard something.

  Caleb was singing.

  Othniel smiled, trying to make out the tune.

  The old man, his face radiant, let his lips part, and the words came out in a robust song, his lungs filling.

  “I will sing to the Lord, for he has triumphed gloriously!

  The horse and his rider he has thrown into the sea!

  The Lord is my strength and song, and he has become my salvation;

  He is my God, and I will praise him; my father’s God, and I will exalt him.

  The Lord is a man of war; the Lord is his name.”

  The old man sang louder, and he did not care who heard him or how he sounded to anyone but the Lord his God. It was not the mere song of a war regiment. It was the song of victory.

  “Pharaoh’s chariots and his army he has cast into the sea;

  His chosen captains also are drowned in the Red Sea.

  The depths have covered them; they sank to the bottom like a stone.

  Your right hand, O Lord, has become glorious in power;

  Your right hand, O Lord, has dashed the enemy in pieces.

  And in the greatness of your excellence

  You have overthrown those who rose against you. . . .”

  Caleb’s voice rasped by the end of the song. He fell silent, but his eyes gazed heavenward.

  Not for the first time that night, Othniel had no idea how to respond.

  A man mighty in war, mighty in deed, mighty in worship.

  After he thought enough time had passed, Othniel asked, “Could I at least hear you describe the sea parting?”

  Caleb glanced over at him. He appeared to remember where he was.

  “When the chariots came, I was near the water’s edge. Moses raised up his staff, and the great wind came over us. It knocked me down. It knocked everyone down. And then . . .” Caleb sighed in wonder. “As the song describes, the seas parted. As though Yahweh’s hand came down with a mighty rush and split it.”

  Othniel shook his head. “And the pillar of cloud?”

  “It was like fire,” Caleb answered. “Like a swirling column of fire and cloud and dust and light. And darkness. But light.” He threw up his hands. “I have nothing further for you that Moses did not write himself.”

  Othniel looked back down at the scroll. His uncle had a gift for storytelling, but perhaps these sights were beyond what he could describe.

  “I lost many brothers when the waters closed in,” Caleb added.

  This was the first time he had sounded somber since Othniel had read the narrative. It did not last long.

  “But they were not my real brothers. I had found my real brothers.” He sat forward eagerly. “You must let me tell you a little more. It is important.”

  “You said you were exhausted, Uncle.”

  “Yes, yes, I said it. But I changed my mind. Hearing of Yahweh’s deliverance has revived me. You must let me tell you this part myself.”

  20

  War Brother

  A final roll of the waves slid up the sand, steadily gaining distance but slowing, finally dissipating and then lapping at the soles of my sandals in a gentle nudge.

  The sea was calming again. The surface smoothed ov
er and became very still.

  I fell to my knees. My astonishment at the act of Yahweh was there, yes, and yet I also grieved all of those men lost.

  But where I was grieving, the people behind me sent up a tremendous cheer, their voices raised as one, shouting so loudly that I had to cover my ears. Tambourines banged together, hands clapped, the women trilled, and this sound was magnified by the thousands and thousands, so loud that I thought the water might part again.

  Camp that night was on the seashore. In all the years to come, the long, brutal years in the Sinai, where so much heartache and sorrow had been endured, I never saw a happier sight.

  I was lying on my side near the shore, alone. Not far away was a young family, sitting up late around their fire. The sky was clear and sparkled above us. The smell of the driftwood smoke was sweet.

  The father was holding his hands up and gesturing wildly. I could not hear what he was saying, but it was clear he was enacting the events of the day. Two young children stared at him with wide eyes and wider smiles. The wife went about cleaning up after their meal, her own face full of contentment.

  I watched them late into the night, eventually pulling out a sheet of papyrus and my sketching sticks and drawing the scene.

  It soothed my mind, so I turned the papyrus over and sketched another image. I took careful time with it. It was the symbol of a journey. The conclusion of my old life. The symbols of who I had been.

  The sketch was my Egyptian clothing and armor being left in the sand as I had left it that afternoon. With them, for it had no use to me anymore, was my Gold of Honor. My footprints led away from these objects, wandering into the wild and unknown lands.

  The next morning we broke camp. It was simple enough for me, because I only had what I could carry. I noticed that was true for the others too. At the most, people had mule carts or handcarts. I made my way over to the father of the family I had seen the night before as he prepared his family to depart with the others who were streaming off in a line through the rocky hills.