Glorious Companions

by Summer Lee

  Kenana paused, thinking, and again pressed her reed into the clay.

  My cousin’s son, Noah, has been called by God to save souls from the coming deluge. Noah and Tyro were born in the same year. Is this a sign from God? Are the two boys destined for greatness? I think it must be an omen to have them so close in age.

  Just a few days earlier, she had seen Noah. She continued inscribing the clay.

  Noah is destined to build an ark to save the people and animals during the prophesied flood. He has the face of an angel.

  “Maybe he is one,” she mused aloud.

  My son, Tyro, only eighteen, has a strong will to prove himself to the people, for one day he will be king.

  Our daughter, Rachael, is now fourteen, and is growing up too fast. I fear for her future and guard her with my life. Neither man nor angel shall be allowed within ten cubits of her, if I can help it.

  Kenana wanted to ensure that Rachael would not repeat the same mistakes she had made, nor fall to the same temptations. She firmly pressed her reed into the clay.

  I must trust in God to take care of eternity. Taking care of my children is my task in life. And taking care of all of us is Asher’s task.

  Asher was a kind man and had once been a good husband. In earlier years, their physical love life had been satisfying. However, over the years, Asher had become so dedicated to his relationship with God that she felt as though she had been nearly forgotten.

  She could not write about their lack of intimacy. It was too painful to record, and too private. She raised her eyes from the tablet to the garden.

  The palatial yard had changed from the time when she had first arrived. The vegetable garden on the west side was gone, replaced by sparse flowers. The alabaster bench was stained with age, and the trees drooped. She missed the song of the nightingales, for they had flown from the region as the drought worsened. The land needed more moisture.

  Suddenly, as a familiar feeling prickled the back of her neck, Kenana sensed that she was not alone. She turned around slowly.

  There, in the center of the garden, sitting on one of the massive limbs of the maple tree, was an angel with long, wavy black hair. She jumped up and screamed, her tablet falling. He lifted his finger to his lips to hush her. Frightened, she started to back away toward the palace. The angel grinned, revealing pearly-white teeth.

  As she watched him cautiously, she tried to gather her courage and moved toward him. As she did, she saw that a radiant halo surrounded his face. His eyes were fixed on Kenana’s and he looked into her soul. He reminded her so much of Malluch, the love of her life.

  Compelled by curiosity, she walked toward him. Suddenly, the creature was gone. Who was he? It was not possible for the angel to have been Malluch, for he was imprisoned in Hades. Had God sent this angel to be her new guardian angel?

  Her heart fluttered at the possibility and she lost interest in her writing. She retrieved her clay tablet and reed, tucked them into her bag, and hung the strap over her shoulder.

  Her pulse pounding, Kenana lifted her oil lamp and walked inside the palace, bewildered by the entire experience.

  It had been a long time since an angel had appeared to her in a garden. She hoped he wasn’t another of the fallen ones.

  Chapter Two

  RACHAEL

  On the opposite side of the palace, Rachael sat on the grass soaking in the peace and quiet of the night. Like her mother, she also had an oil lamp and clay tablet and was inscribing her own deepest thoughts. With her reed, she pressed her thoughts into the clay.

  I need friends. I want someone special to care about me. Someone to share my secret thoughts and feelings with. Someone to laugh and cry with.

  Rachael was lonely. Her brother, Tyro, was her closest friend, but she did not see him that often, as he was on his warrior missions for her father. She missed him dearly.

  She felt brushed aside by her busy parents. Her father always talked about his kingdom and his service to God, and her mother spoke of angel visits and the women in the city. Rachael did not want to think about destruction of the kingdom by war, nor did she care for angel talk, which she could not comprehend because she had never seen an angel. Her parents had faith that God—El—would help win their battles. Rachael’s needs were smaller.

  She intently carved words onto her moist tablet about the sensations and longings of her heart. Looking up toward the sky, she prayed, “Help me, dear God. Please give me a friend.” Never in her life had she been allowed to play with the other village children. Her mother had sheltered her, as if she would become tainted from playing with commoner children, or be bitten by a stray dog or even learn a naughty word. The palace walls, which protected the princess, were her prison.

  She was always protected, always safe and always sheltered from worldly things. It was maddening and frustrating. She wanted to know more, experience more, and live more freely.

  Rachael dreamed of the day when she would be rescued from her imprisonment as princess of the land. She reclined in the grass and let her imagination soar.

  What will my rescuer look like? she wondered. Would he be a tall man with dark hair and a beautiful smile?

  Perhaps her rescuer would arrive in resplendent purple robes on a prancing stallion. He would have a sword, of course, and perhaps he would wear a soldier’s bronze chest plate. She was certain that when her rescuer came, he would dismount and bow before her. He would kiss her softly on her lips and take her small hand in his strong one and lift her to his horse.

  And then we would ride away together with my hair blowing in the wind. I would never look back because I would be free!

  That last thought caused a shiver of anticipation to run down her spine.

  Of course she wasn’t going to run away. She was a princess.

  Rachael was unaware of her own physical beauty. Her light hair and complexion accented her baby-blue eyes. To the best of her mother’s ability, her beauty was deliberately hidden from men. Her clothing was always kept simple, usually in un-dyed, loose linen tunics that hid her blooming shape. Her mother was overprotective and always worried about keeping her safe from a future of the destructive deluge. And from the evil of men’s hearts.

  Rachael struggled with a sense that she was overprotected. God protected her, her father and mother protected her and her brother, Tyro, also protected her when he was in residence at the palace. With all of that protection, why did she not feel a sense of contentment in her soul that she was cherished instead of trapped?

  “I will always pray for guidance,” she said aloud as she encouraged herself. The one thing that her parents had instilled in her was that she was under the protective hand of God.

  As a young girl, she recalled seeing her parents spend precious afternoons walking in the then-lush royal gardens, talking and holding hands. But now, life was too serious for that. War was coming. That had changed everything.

  That was when they started to shield me too much from the outside world, Rachael decided. When the war talk began, I lost any small freedom I once had.

  A door slammed on the other side of the palace, and she realized it must be her mother going back inside. Quickly, she rose, gathered her things and hurried back into the palace, so the queen would not question her.

  As Rachael grew into a woman, her mother seemed to want to know everything, even her most private thoughts.

  *

  Later that night, startled by the sounds of thunder, Rachael awoke and raced across her bedchamber to the window. The wind was blowing leaves across the yard, and some of them swirled on her balcony. She reached for a shawl and tightened it about her body. Weeping willow trees swayed violently in the yard.

  Flowers of every kind and color were ripped out of the hanging gardens. Though they had fewer flowers than the summer before, the hanging plant pots had made a colorful frame for the patio throughout the season. However, now, they were flying away. Clay pots, which, just moments earlier, had held ferns, shattered and sc
attered. Pots of almond blossoms overturned and broke. Everything was rapidly blown away or destroyed. Rachael gasped, shaking in fear at the destruction of the wind.

  The howling sound rushed into her chamber, roaring in her ears, and causing her to lose her balance. She spun around, frightened. She screamed, “Someone help me!”

  Just as she thought no one came to help, she heard a voice—a quiet voice—saying, “Fear not. I will protect you.”

  It was the voice of her angel, Aurora.

  Chapter Three

  TYRO

  Prince Tyro was considered the most powerful warrior in the land of Mesopotamia. His current task was to investigate reports of attacks from those who were sworn to harm Mesopotamia and his royal family.

  Tyro was a mighty man who stood head and shoulders above others. He could restrain a crowd, calm an uprising, or dispose of a cruel ruler with one stroke. Most astonishing was that he was only eighteen years old.

  He was proving to be an extraordinary leader. He traveled the land of Mesopotamia, searching out evil and destroying it. His calling was to protect the kingdom.

  One day, while traveling alone on his majestic stallion, he watched the storm clouds that were following him, and heard distant rolling thunder. This was an attack of evil spirits on Tyro. A whirlwind storm was gaining on him, swirling debris and dust into a funnel. He encouraged his steed to move faster, but the tornado caught up. As the whirlwind moved over him, he found himself in the center of it. He felt no fear. Oddly, it was peaceful and quiet in the middle, with debris surrounding him like a wall.

  He spoke to the storm and the demon spirit behind it. “Be gone! In the name of the Almighty One! Be gone!” he shouted.

  Then, as swiftly as it came upon him, the storm and the demon spirit moved on.

  Tyro wished it wasn’t so hard to get word to the king when he wanted to talk to him. He had to ride his stallion from one end of the land to the other in order to do the King’s bidding and keep him informed. Upon his return to the palace, he would tell Father of this storm and the demon spirit.

  King Asher had married Tyro’s mother shortly after Tyro was born. He was the only father that Tyro had ever known and he trusted Asher’s wisdom. Whenever the king sent him on a mission across the land, Tyro went. King Asher always told the prince, “You are born to help our people.”

  After leaving his home in Alalakh, Tyro headed south along the Euphrates River, visiting the leaders in the small villages. Once he reached the Egyptian border, he turned around and headed north along the western border of the land. His goal was to spend more time in Adah, his birthplace and where the love of his life, Leah, lived.

  The road was rough and rugged. It crossed rocky terrain that was hard on his horse’s feet and he had to stop often to pull stones from the tender frog of the stallion’s feet. This was proving to be the most difficult trip he had ever taken. He’d had to fight off wild animals and desert bandits before he’d even entered the hills with their haunting sounds. He conquered evil, one challenge at a time and in the end, he made it through.

  Once he entered the flat land, Tyro rode hard through the kingdom, checking in with the leaders in the towns. They all told him that, for now, the citizens were safe from danger. He then greeted the young people and encouraged them. He told them they could accomplish great feats for God.

  When he reached the southern end of the kingdom, he bought a packhorse and loaded it down with sacks of food. As he again traveled north, the food was then distributed to the people. King Asher had told the prince that part of his duty was to, “Help the people and keep them safe.”

  The most exciting part of the trip would be when he got to Adah, for he would see Leah. She lived in the palace owned by his mother. After the death of Prince Jubal, his mother had become the heir of his estate; however, she and Asher had moved to Alalakh and allowed their best friends, Tall and Sarah, to take over the home in Adah. Tall and Sarah were Leah’s parents and she had been raised there. Tyro had been born there. His stepfather, Asher, had been raised there. So, Adah held many family memories as well.

  The anticipation of seeing Leah filled his heart with delight as Tyro thought about seeing her again after so many weeks apart. Leah was not only beautiful, but she was very kind. His heart pounded just thinking about her and knew in his heart that they would someday marry.

  Tyro remembered the moment a few years ago when their eyes had first made contact, and a feeling of warmth had spread quickly throughout his body. After that, his heart would quicken when someone even mentioned her name. He was truly in love.

  Leah was different than all the other girls. While many women concentrated on kitchen duties and housework, Leah spent her time contributing something back to their people. She always stood up for what was right and was a defender of the weak. Tyro marveled at her courage, and he felt honored to be the man in her life. He had been reluctant to say how he felt about her just yet, but Leah often occupied his mind.

  Tyro was an upright man who fought for morality and well-being among the subjects in Mesopotamia. He was the complete opposite of the Nephilim, who were also fathered by fallen angels. While he was a beloved mortal protecting the people from evil, the Nephilim aimed to destroy them.

  Tyro would be a good husband for Leah…when the time came.

  Chapter Four

  ASHER

  The king was in the stables rubbing the dust from his horses with a damp rag when he heard something slam against the exterior wall. The horses were startled and Asher dropped the rag. He ran to the open doors and saw that a small whirlwind had hit the building, and was now throwing straw all over the just-raked yard. As he tried to pull the doors shut, the whirlwind seemed to move quickly past. And other than blowing the straw, it didn’t seem to have caused any damage. He was relieved.

  Asher went back into the stable and checked on the horses, calming them with gentle words and pats. He found the time he spent grooming them was quite fulfilling and it relaxed them as well. The stable boys continued to work around him, raking the floor and spreading clean straw for bedding.

  The horses in Asher’s stable were purebred Arabian horses. He and his friend, Tall, had traveled far to buy them at a distant horse market. He had bartered many cattle for these horses. Cattle he had to spare, though they were looking thinner lately. But he needed horses to fight wars. Asher was pleased with his purchase of the stallion and mares, and he took exceptional care of his own small herd. He hoped their numbers would increase next spring.

  Asher had just finished combing the mane of his favorite horse when he heard footsteps approaching. It was Kenana.

  “Oh, there you are,” said the queen as she walked into the stable. “I should have known you’d be out here talking to your horses. Your four-footed children.”

  He looked up and smiled. “They are good listeners. And they are much more obedient than anyone’s children.”

  She shook her head in amusement. “I should have come first to the stable. I’ve been looking for you all over,” she said.

  “And now, you have found me.” He bowed his head and when he lifted it, his eyes swept her slender figure. She was as beautiful now as she had been the day when he had first met her. “What may I do for you, my queen?” he asked with a sly grin.

  “I need to talk to you about something important.” Her smile faded, and a troubled expression crossed her face. “I have been to the village and the women seem restless. They say their husbands see Nephilim whenever they go out hunting and that their vegetable gardens have been stripped.”

  “Oh no, not in this time of drought! We must send food from our storehouses to help them.”

  “I will make it so, Asher. There is more bad news. A small hamlet by the sea was wiped out—everyone is dead and their food stores were looted. The houses were burned and the hamlet lays in utter ruin. The nearby villagers are afraid that an attack on Alalakh is coming soon. I think their fears are justified. This has gone far enough. We
must act.”

  Nodding his head, he said, “I have heard that as well and I am sending Tyro there to help, when I can get word to him.” King Asher pursed his lips, with frown lines forming on his brow. “Who is alarming others about this in town?”

  “Everyone is talking about it and fear is rising. People are even talking about leaving Mesopotamia.”

  “We need our people to stay. This is our homeland and we will not be driven from it by the violence of vagabonds, thieves and murderers. It is they who must leave Mesopotamia.”

  “I know.” Queen Kenana lowered her eyes, staring at the ground then raising them again when she had gathered her thoughts. “I’m also concerned about the state of affairs, Asher. Terrible trouble is happening in our land. Our people are suffering, even dying. It is up to us to stop this from happening again.”

  “Yes.” Asher admired his wife. There was a time when she had owned him as a slave, but she had set him free. He had taken that time to come back to his roots. “I remember when I first came back here after my life as a slave. When I first returned, the few residents still living in Alalakh had attempted to rebuild the town after it had been burned to the ground and the citizens had been harmed or killed. The people welcomed me back and trusted me. They took me in then and now, I must do the same for them.”

  Kenana nodded. “Asher, you have good will with the merchants and the leaders of towns, villages, and the soldiers. But I have a great fear that this violence will spread quickly. I also worry that perhaps the towns will not support you as much as you ask.”

  He looked at his stallion’s hoof, pulled out a small stone and then put his foot down with a loving pat. He turned to Kenana and said, “I do not think you have anything to worry about. The people in town trust us. We will protect them. And in turn, they will protect us. I will have Tyro take food and tents to the villages that have been hit. It will increase good will and help those who are suffering losses.”