Empire of Gold: Jeremiah II, Emperor of Babylonia

By Jo Amdahl

“My ancestors didn’t begin to know how to anger God!” the evil King Jehoiakim announced as he began his rule of infamy. Now, the Prophet Jeremiah struggles to curb the tide of apostasy and make the people of Judah understand that they have betrayed their God. Ezekiel grows up ministering in a Temple where he will never serve as a priest. In Babylon, Daniel and his cousins are enrolled in the University and begin their indoctrination into a pagan culture to serve as officials in the Imperial Administration. Emperor Nebuchadnezzar marries Amyhia of Media and Nitocris of Egypt. Babylon blossoms with new construction, including the fabulous Hanging Gardens and the awe-inspiring Walls of Babylon. As the Empire's power explodes, Nebuchadnezzar’s wives' rivalry becomes intertwined in the dark intrigue rising up and threatening to overthrow the throne. And the problems without the borders are as pressing as those within. King Uvakshatra of Media betrays the Scythians, destroying the Coalition, and Pharaoh Necho of Egypt marches on Philistia and Phoenecia. Chaos reigns and judgment is inevitable.
The Empire of Gold Series continues in the third book: Jeremiah II, Emperor of Babylonia. Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and Daniel endure trials as the tiny Kingdom of Judah moves closer to its ultimate destruction. Excerpt: actually seen Nebuchadnezzar before, and though he knew it, he was still surprised to see how young the king was. Only nineteen years old, Nebuchadnezzar wore a beard, but it was sparse, and though he was tall, he was slender like a boy, his shoulders not yet having attained their width.
Watching him, Daniel gradually realized that it was easier to blame a faceless evil, to hate someone he couldn’t picture in his mind...
While Daniel stared, Nebuchadnezzar suddenly turned his head ad looked directly at him.
For an instant, their eyes met and the suzerain faltered in midstride. To Daniel, it seemed as if lightning had struck him, and time stood still. The hubbub of the crowd faded into a distant hum, and the world around receded until only he and the king remained, focused and highlighted in crystal clarity. Dumbfounded the Judean youth continued to stare. If he didn’t believe in the Babylonians' concept of destiny before, this at least seemed to be something very like it...
He is Mine and you will bring him to Me.
Him!?! ME!?! In that instant, in the blink of an eye, Daniel felt his world turned upside down. This was the man who had invaded his land and left it in poverty by deporting its most productive citizens. This was the man who was responsible for his present state, the man who tore him from his family, friends, and entire life. This was the man who had ordered his mutilation and indoctrination into the very center of occultic paganism.
The king, with a thoughtful look on his face, reluctantly turned back to his duties and walked on.
Daniel remained, shaken and wondering what in the world, or outside of it had just happened...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jo Amdahl
• Release date: Jun 15, 2021
• ISBN: 9780997675580

Jo Amdahl

Jo Amdahl is a linguist and anthropologist as well as a former minister with the Assemblies of God. She has served in Latin America, Europe, and Africa as a linguist and language survey specialist with Wycliffe Bible Translators. Jo has spent over 30 years researching the information presented in Empire of God. She lives with her husband and two sons in Wyoming.

Book preview

Introduction

Babylonia, the queen of the ancient realms—the Empire of Gold spoken of by the Prophet Daniel —had such power, wealth, and splendor that its legend lives on in the imagination of the world today.

Egypt, realm of the Nile, great in glory, with a tradition of power that stretched back into the distant mists of time—the Upper and Lower realms were reunited at last. Egypt was whole and determined to conquer the world.

Media and Persia, the first of the Aryan Empires, was now pressing into the Middle East, desperate for coastline territories and Mediterranean trade.

Judah, the tiny remnant of the chosen people of God, found itself caught in the middle of the struggles of its titan neighbors and the Prophet Jeremiah struggled to understand God’s plan amid the chaos.

War consumed the world. Everything changed, politically, economically, and religiously. It would never be the same again, and the events have been recorded for us to learn from them.

Empire of Gold is a chronicle crucial to both Christians and Jews, of great interest to historians, and just a good story for anyone else. It is a story of the supernatural and of God’s grace in unendurable trials. It is a story of power, war, treachery, and romance, all in epic proportions. Even better, it actually happened. Who said history was boring?

Preface

Nabopolassar, victorious general over the Sea People, is given the title Sheik of all Chaldea by his Assyrian masters. As he is of House Yakin, he takes up his abode in Ur and rules from there as Sheik of Yakin.

However, the new sheik is, as he, himself, admitted, a nobody, not of noble birth. Though accepted by Yakin, Nabopolassar and his titles are not accepted by the other Chaldean Houses.

When Nabopolassar steals the throne of Babylon in 626 B.C., it takes him twelve more years to convince the Houses that he is there to stay. It isn’t until 614 that they convene at the New Year’s Festival in Babylon, and, undoubtedly under duress, raise their fists to confirm his rule.

Neither House Dakurri nor House Amukanni is easy with House Yakin rule and in 610, House Amukanni revolts and tries to take the City of Babylon while Nabopolassar is away at war with the Assyrians. The return of the king results in the death of the old Sheik of Amukanni and the installation of his son in his place.¹

But it is Dakurri, not Amukanni, who rule the Province of Babylon and view the Foundation of Heaven and Earth as their birthright.

The intrigue simmers just under the surface throughout Nabopolassar’s reign, as the three major Chaldean Houses all vie for power. Many still view the Yakin Dynasty as illegitimate and beneath the dignity of the great city and empire.

Nabopolassar dutifully pays tribute to Esagila, the religious complex of Babylonia. Every year, he needs their support to take the hand of the idol, Marduk, and so to continue his reign. Esagila continues to grudgingly support the king.

In the year 607, Prince Nebuchadnezzar turns the tables on the priests and forces them to pay taxes to his father.

The simmering pot begins to boil, and when Nabopolassar dies in 605, Nebuchadnezzar has to race back to Babylon from Egypt to claim his throne before a civil war should erupt.

Now the forces of sedition begin to unite. They look to spread their unrest and rebellion from the borders of Egypt to the shores of the Great Sea, to the mountains of Media—including the kings of the Philistines and Jehoiakim, King of Judah.

All that is holding them back is one man, Nebuchadnezzar.

SYNOPSIS

Foundations

Jeremiah, a twelve-year-old Judean boy, is appointed Prophet to the Nations by the Lord of Hosts. He bears witness to Judah’s sin before King Josiah. The king yields to the divine directive and eliminates idol-atry from the land, cleansing the temple and bringing the Ark of the Covenant back to its place. Though invasion from Assyria seems imminent, Judah is promised peace while Josiah lives.

Nabopolassar usurps the throne in Babylon and conducts war on Assyria, forming a Coalition with Media and Scythia. To cement the Treaty of the Coalition, the Crown Prince of Babylon, Nebuchadnezzar, is betrothed to Princess Amyhia of Media.

Nineveh, Capital of Assyria, is overthrown by the collapse of a gigantic dam. Assyria moves its capital to Harran, but the Coalition soon conquers it too. City after city is swallowed, and ultimately all of Assyria falls.

The Scythian’s uncivilized ways and deeds render them odious to their allies and ensure the future doom of their chieftains at the hands of Uvakshatra, King of Media.

Babylonia, aided by Scythia, defeats Egypt and invades the Egyptian capital city of Sais.

The Prophet Jeremiah, grown from child to young man during the reign of the good King Josiah, takes on the mission of collating and canonizing the scriptures. Life in Judah is good, but the prophet knows it won’t last. The peace of Josiah will end with Josiah’s death, and Jeremiah will begin his true mission as Prophet to the Nations.

Jeremiah I: Prince of Babylon

Egypt has fallen to Nabopolassar, King of Babylon. Princess Nitocris, Heir of the God’s Wife of Amun, is taken captive—a hostage to ensure Pharaoh Necho’s good behavior. She is betrothed to Nabopolassar’s son, Nebuchadnezzar, heir to the throne of Babylon. This upsets the established succession of future Egyptian pharaohs. Nebuchadnezzar already has another betrothed, Princess Amyhia, daughter of King Uvakshatra of Media. That marriage contract sealed the alliance between Babylonia and Media, and so brings about the downfall of Assyria.

But Pharaoh Necho betrays Nabopolassar and marches forth once more to conquest. King Josiah, Judah’s security by the word of the Prophetess Huldah, makes a stand for Babylon and is killed. Jeremiah, the king’s prophet, realizes that peace is at an end. Judah is unfaithful to her God, and judgment is at hand. He resigns as his post as royal prophet.

Pharaoh Necho slaughters the population of Carchemish. When Babylon learns of Necho’s betrayal, Princess Nitocris’ life is forfeit, but Nebuchadnezzar stands between her and his father and saves her.

King Jehoiakim of Judah repudiates Babylon and turns to Egypt. Judah suffers through the reign of Jehoiakim, during which idolatry runs rampant, and morality declines. Jeremiah preaches to the people, but he is banished from the Temple complex. He is persecuted and beaten but refuses to recant: Nebuchadnezzar is coming!

Babylon retaliates against Egypt’s betrayal, and Nebuchadnezzar takes command of the army. The Prophet Jeremiah gives Jerusalem a blow by blow commentary as Nebuchadnezzar chases the Egyptians back south of the Wadi of Egypt once more. Despite King Jehoiakim’s allegiance to Egypt, Nebuchadnezzar leaves him on the throne, giving him a second chance.

The youth, Daniel, and his cousins are selected from the offspring of the Judean nobility. They are taken hostage to study in Babylon at the House of Knowledge, there to become officials in the government.

King Nabopolassar of Babylon dies, and Nebuchadnezzar must abandon his offensive against Egypt to return to Babylon in haste to secure his throne.

PART 1: 605 BC

The Fourth Year of Jehoiakim

The Word of the Lord Almighty to King Hezekiah: There will come a time when everything in your palace and all the wealth stored up by your ancestors will be carried off to Babylon. Nothing will be left. Some of your own flesh and blood descendants will be taken captive to become eunuchs in the palace of the King of Babylon."¹

—Isaiah 39:5b-7 circa 695 BC.

CHAPTER 1

Assassination

Babylon, Babylonia

"Rab Shar!¹ Wake up!" Abruptly, Nebuzaradan’s voice echoed through the vast royal bedchamber. His pounding reverberated on the door and threatened to break it down.

The interior of the cavernous room was dark, almost black. It was Tashritu, the seventh moon, and the weather was cool enough that the shutters were closed, but not so cool that the brazier was lit.² In the blackness, Nebuchadnezzar, King of Babylon, sat up, shoving back his bedcovers. At the urgency in his best friend’s voice, the suzerain came instantly awake. Seri? You can come in.

The door burst open, revealing a tall, dark silhouette against the muted lamps of the royal living room. The doors to the hall beyond still stood open. Nebuchadnezzar swung his long legs over the side of his overstuffed mattress as the captain of the daggermen entered. He’s dead! They’ve killed him!

Who?

We don’t know, they were gone before it was discovered, but...

Seri, who is dead?

Seri took a deep breath and started over. The rab sharish, Lord. He has been assassinated.³

Kadurri stood up in shock. His bare feet sank into the deep Persian carpet. Sharu?!? Mesharumishamash is dead?

The wily old Prime Minister of Babylonia had ruled the interior affairs of the empire since before Kadurri’s father had first taken the throne. He was a rock: unshakable in times of distress; the queen mother’s best friend and confidant; and next to the king, the foundation of the empire itself.

He was dead?

Shareisi Makruikibi, Kadurri’s Chamberlin, appeared from the foyer door. His quarters were a discreet distance across the living room. Blearily, the young eunuch rubbed the sleep from his eyes, noted the suzerain’s nakedness, and grabbed a robe from a shelf. Sire? the Shareisi tentatively enquired as he slipped the garment around Kadurri’s shoulders.

Nebuchadnezzar ignored him. He continued to stare at Nebuzaradan. Kadurri had been king for less than a quarter-moon, and this was the first crisis he had to deal with?⁴

Assassinated? Kadurri had studied under the man, learned the secrets of global financing, the civil ramifications of war...

What happened? he finally demanded.

The bodyguard stood there, shaking. We don’t know. He was dead for over a beru or more before he was discovered in his chambers.⁵ He was just starting to get stiff. The perpetrators were long gone. My father sent me to tell you. Mesharumishamash is dead. Nebuzaradan’s father was Rab Thabahaya Arioch, Commander of the Imperial Guard and Chief of Police.

Makruikibi struck a flint and lit a lamp. He discretely closed the open door to the living room. Then, he backed into a corner and tried to be invisible.

So you said, Kadurri snapped, tying the robe around himself. Who found him?

One of your mother’s handmaids. The prime minister missed their evening court, so after she finished, the queen mother sent her maiden to see if he was well.

The rab sharish and queen mother held court four times a moon, after the evening meal. The time was chosen for the convenience of the people after they had finished their daily work. It was an important task, and Mesharumishamash wouldn’t have missed it.

Rab Thabahaya Arioch is still questioning the maid, Seri continued, but it is doubtful she knows anything. The poor girl is in shock; she can hardly speak. The rab thabahaya would automatically assume command of the investigation.

It is certain that it was murder?

Assasination. Kadurri... it was messy.

A thought struck him. The handmaid has not reported back to her mistress, then. Has anyone informed the queen mother?

I... My place was here, Lord. I don’t...

Then she’ll still be up, waiting to hear. Makru, go report what has happened to Queen Ninnarummur.

The chamberlain bowed low, snapped his fingers submissively, and slipped out into the foyer heading for the hall.

Seri, double the guard, lock down the palace and the grounds.

Commander Arioch has already done so, Lord, Nebuzaradan responded. No one is going anywhere.

Nebuchadnezzar nodded. Then he sank back down on his bed. I know that I should grieve, but I don’t. I just feel numb. First, my father, now this. Everything is changing. Except for the treachery. The intrigue remains. There are still traitors. And we still don’t know who they are.

We will, growled Seri.

Shamash was awakening.⁶ The high windows on the east cast long shadows across the colossal audience hall, and everything was tinted pink and purple. Kadurri sat there, high on his throne, trying to gather his thoughts by letting the complicated but unobtrusivly soft beat of a drummer priest from Esagila wash over him. Sixty daggermen surrounded the dais. Commander Arioch stood at their head, directly before the first step to the dais. No one was coming near the king without the rab thabahaya’s permission.

The young Provider of Marduk pushed back his father’s weighty three-tiered formal crown and scratched his forehead. So many details needed looking into, and he was not sure of what to do next.

Mesharumishamash would have known.

Kadurri needed his counsel, and he would never have it again.

Rab Shaq Narambel stood directly behind the new king and to his left, holding a mug of beer. In his fifties, Narambel had been a military man all his life. The cupbearer to the king was the second general of the army and the right hand of the prime minister—the fourth most powerful man in all the empire. Now, with the death of Mesharumishamash, Narambel was also acting rab sharish.

Other than that, the audience hall, which could easily hold three hundred, was empty. The lamps, on their golden sconces on the walls, burned low as the sunlight waxed through the high windows of the alcove.

Kadurri’s groan came from somewhere deep inside of him. I’m just trying to fathom why? It’s too late. Sharu already made sure of my throne. My father is dead, but I am king. The conspiracy failed, so why bother to kill him?

Revenge, Narambel growled, his dark eyes flashed. Though he had only served under Mesharumishamash for a quarter moon and barely knew him, it was evident that he was angry. The conspiracy to rob you of your throne failed because the rab sharish stopped it. So they’ve stopped him.

He saved my throne, and they killed him for it. Nebuchadnezzar considered it. That is very foolish because now we are going to root them out and give them and their families to the fire.

If we can find whoever did it, Lord, then we will find whoever ordered it done. Maybe we will find all of them.

Kadurri furrowed his brow as he thought about it. "I don’t think it was revenge. Sharu was a master of intrigue. Our best. He was still investigating the sedition that tried to keep me from the throne. They were afraid of him. Maybe he found out something, so they removed him. Narambel, it’s not over. They still have a plan, and they wanted Sharu out of the way badly enough that they’ve risked exposing themselves to do it.

What word is there about my brothers?⁷

Nebushumlishtar is still with the army, Narambel answered. He should arrive in Babylon within the half-moon. He wasn’t here. We know that he is innocent of this outrage.

Kadurri snorted. I meant, are they safe? Not that they planned this. They wouldn’t.

Narambel looked ready to believe that the very pillars of the hall hid assassins. It is most often a king’s own family who...

Not in this case!

Prince Nebushumlishtar is not my lord’s only brother, the rab shaq pointed out.

Neni is also still with the army, Captain Nebuzaradan objected.

Neni was Nebuchadnezzar’s half-brother. He had no claim to royalty since Nabopolassar had never acknowledged him. Queen Ninnaramur had stipulated in her wedding contract that only her sons could be Nabopolassar’s heirs. Neni lived outside the palace and didn’t interact with the royal family. He was not even bar manuti—nobility. My lord is correct, the captain of the daggermen continued, neither brother could have been part of this. And yes, Lord, for the moment, at least, they are both safe.

The rab shaq nodded. I have sent messengers with the news. The army will keep them safe until their arrival back in the city.

Nebuchadnezzar held out his hand, and the cupbearer set the mug in it. Kadurri took a long draught of beer and handed it back.

Did he suffer? the king demanded of the police chief.

Arioch shifted uncomfortably. The murderer interrogated him first, yes. But after he found out what he wanted to know, the knife that ended it was quick.

May Nergal have mercy on that dog’s soul, for I will have none! Kadurri exploded and slapped the armrests of the throne as he leaned forward, trembling with rage. Have you found anything to lead you to who might have done this?

I know who did it, Great King. The door was undamaged. That meant the responsible party or parties did not break-in; they had authorized access. They were already waiting inside when the prime minister got home and dismissed his daggermen. So, who could have gotten inside?

Who?

The nagir ekalli. The palace superintendent may enter any suite to see that it is properly maintained. We questioned ground floor guards, and they confirmed that he left his own chambers in the middle of the night. The second floor east guard reports that he entered the prime minister’s apparments shortly after that. So we went to arrest him, and he and his family are missing.

Again?!? The last nagir ekali had been a palace mole for Eazerikisha, Sheik of Amukanni, grandfather of the current sheik, and the traitor who had led the Amukanni Rebellion during Nabopolassar’s reign. Who places the palace staff?

The nagir ekalli, Lord, Arioch said.

Right! the king glared at his chief of police. And that means any of the palace staff could be traitors.

Arioch sucked in his breath. Then he nodded. We will investigate them all, Great King.

And who appointed the nagir ekalli?

Your father, Great King.

On whose recommendation?

I... don’t know.

Well, find out! Sharu was an old man. It would not have taken a great amount of strength to overpower him, but to beat him? To kill him? The nagir ekalli is a bureaucrat, and I’m having trouble picturing him as an assassin. I would have said that he has never killed so much as a rabbit.

Apparently none of us knew him that well. He had the training, and that put him in the position. My king is correct, he had to have had had accomplices. My men are arresting his known acquaintances, but, certainly, the man himself has already escaped the city with his family.

Well, find them! Anything else?

I caught up with Shareisi Makruikibi coming from your mother’s quarters. I asked him to temporarily assume the nagir ekalli’s duties. He is seeing to the... to the rab sharish. He will have him moved to the palace foyer to lay in state by tonight.

I’m going to need a new palace superintendent. He turned to the young daggerman at his side. Seri, you know everybody. Appoint someone so I can have my chamberlain back."

Yes, Lord. The bodyguard bowed his head slightly and snapped his fingers across his chest.

He turned back to the rab thabahaya. Is that it?

Arioch nodded. For now, yes, Rab Shar.

Then you are dismissed.

Arioch bowed again and snapped his fingers, then he backed down the steps and away from the dais, turned, and strode briskly from the room.

And... the king hesitated. He didn’t want to have to do this. But he did have to do it. I’m going to need a new rab sharish, and it would be well if he had several moons to settle into his position before the Akitu. That means I need someone now. Narambel, you were Sharu’s second, and the natural choice, but I want you to stay by my side. I need you to remain rab shaq. So, he choked back a sudden sob, whom would you recommend? To appoint a new rab sharish made all this real. Sharu was not coming back.

Lord, there is one man, above all others, who has worked with the prime minister and knows the interior workings of the government much better than I. Narambel had already prepared his answer, it seemed. The Governor of Babylon Province, Nebushazban. He has been bel pihati for ten years and was only thirty when he was appointed. He could very well still serve out a full thirty-year term as rab sharish.

Nebuchadnezzar barely knew Nebushazban, but he trusted Narambel. Send for him. I’ll make the appointment before Sin rises.⁸ He groaned. But that leaves me short a governor for my capital province.

It will be the place of the new prime minister to suggest a candidate, the cupbearer pointed out.

Yes, but... Kadurri hesitated. His men were not going to like this. But he knew he was right. Babylon is the capital of Bit Dakurri. It could quell some of this unrest if the Governor of Babylon was Dakurri.

Chief Arioch stifled a gasp, and Rab Shaq Narambel’s face went unreadable. Great King, the cupbearer carefully objected, your father appointed Nebushazban Governor of Babylon Province partially because he is a younger son of the Sheik of Shelani. He is Shelani, not Dakurri. the cupbearer emphasized. Bit Shelani is small and has no political aspirations. A younger son of Shelani is no threat to anyone. He was the perfectly neutral choice to assert authority over Babylon Province. You would undo that? Dakurri is not neutral, Lord.

"Except that the Prince of Shelani has been working closely with the bar manuti of the Province for ten years. Those noblemen are all Dakurri. Nebushazban must know someone he can trust. They can’t all be traitors.

We’re done here. The king stood up. Everyone is dismissed. Seri? He addressed his bodyguard, Grab your squad and come with me. I’ve got to go offer condolences to my mother.⁹

South Syria

Under the watchful eye of Prince Nebushumlistar, the Babylonian army broke camp from the City of Pelusium on the Egyptian border. Leaving it, and its bizarre black sphinxes behind, the host crossed the Wadi of Egypt and began its trek home.

At least, part of them was going home. The season for war would soon come again and the majority of the troops were bound for the Fortress of Riblah, two days march north-west of Jerusalem. They were needed there to keep the peace in the captured Syrian territories and to wait for the newly crowned King Nebuchadnezzar to return. They would be ready should hostilities break out once again or if the new king should decide to once more march on Egypt.

But the little brother of the emperor was tasked with bringing home to Babylon the spoils of war.

Marching north along the coast of the Great Sea, the army came to the Scythian city of Ashdod. If it had been up to the Barbarians of the North, they would have simply killed the captured enemy troops of Gaza and Ashkelon. Instead, in an unprecedented show of restraint, the barbarians turned them—Egyptian, Greek, and Lydian—over to the Prince of Babylonia. The Scyths kept all the treasures of these cities and took all the Philistine civilians as slaves, though many would remain in their cities to rebuild them. And life would go on.

Sated on the spoils of desecrated temples, and the rich ports of the Great Sea, the Horse-People were in a very good mood. Hundreds of warrior maids had earned their two scalps. Wedding celebrations were abundant and wine and beer flowed freely. Who cared about the lack of executions?

The Army of Babylon moved on to Riblah to pick up the hostages from Judah that Nebuchadnezzar had sent there before he marched on Egypt—before that fateful day they learned of King Nabpolassar’s death.¹⁰

CHAPTER 2

The Road to Babylon

Aram, North Syria

Daniel ben Abda sat dejectedly on his bench in the wooden-planked wagon packed with Judean recruits. Bump, bump, bump, down the long, dirt road they went, hitting every rut. Their vehicle twisted and creaked while they swatted at swarms of flies. At least, the weather was pleasant as the road wound its way west from Riblah, through low mountains and fields fallow for the winter. Carrion birds circled overhead, drawn, as always, to the sight of a marching army.

And Babylonia’s army was the greatest in the world.

The disciplined cavalry came first, then the caravan holding the wagons of the spoils of war—captives and treasure—followed by the massive chariots and machines of war and last came the rows upon rows of archers and infantry. Their tramp-tramp-tramp shook the ground, overriding even the creaking of the wagons. The whole spectacle would have taken over an hour to pass any bystander they might meet on the road. So far, they hadn’t met any. The countryside was deserted, farmhouses and villages abandoned. The inhabitants were hiding.

Mishael shared Daniel’s bench. Directly across from them, riding backward, were Hananiah and Azariah, making their grouping a foursome. The wagon held two other sets of benches, each group also containing four youths for a total of twelve young men, all Judean, all under sixteen years old. Conversation between them was limited. No one felt like talking.

Daniel and his cousins were royals, descendants of King Hezekiah, so their seats were at the front of the wagon, directly behind the dusty back of the muleteer. The prancing sound of approaching hoofbeats drew Daniel’s attention away from the driver. All four of them glanced up to see the young brother of the new Babylonian king ride by on his tall, flashy, blood-bay charger. A mounted daggerman accompanied the prince. There was also a young captain, on a shiny mahogany bay, who seemed every bit as protective as the prince’s bodyguard. The captain held the prince’s banner upright, a highly stylized yellow eight-pointed star with blue emphasis lines and a round blue and yellow eye in the center. This monstrosity was displayed against a white background and fluttered by, mounted from a tall standard.

That thing is incredibly ugly, Mishael remarked in a low voice, giving his head a jerk towards the banner. Who’d want that for their standard?

He’s too young to know it’s ugly, Azariah commented. The real question is who’d put a yaled in charge of an army?¹

Daniel shook his head. Prince Nebushumlishtar, the brother of Nebuchadnezzar, was only fourteen—a whole year younger than Daniel himself. Azariah was right. Who put anyone that young in charge of anything?

Word is, the captain there is advising him. That’s Captain Neni, Hananiah explained. He’s an illegitimate half-brother of the prince. He’s not nobility, but the cavalry has been recruiting heavily from wherever it can, and Neni has served for several years now.

The prince and his escort cantered on by them.

The wagon hit a particularly large rut, and Daniel bit his tongue. Ow! He rubbed his cheek. Well, he’s pretty young too. You can’t tell me that real soldiers want to be taking orders from them!"

Hananiah leaned forward on his bench. This isn’t exactly a military action; we’re not marching into any battles. Besides, the new king took over the army as rab mag when he was only sixteen. The prince has been training for command in the cavalry for over a year under General Narambel himself. But word is, Narambel was promoted to rab shaq, and now he’s in Babylon with the new king. Since Nebushumlishtar was Narambel’s second, he became a general, and since he is Nebuchadnezzar’s full-brother and heir, he outranks all the other generals, so...

Hananiah, Daniel snapped, where do you keeping getting all this? Why do you even care?

Hananiah looked at him sadly. I’m sorry, Daniel. I’m not trying to upset you. I’m just made that way, and I want to know. Balasi, he gestured behind him towards the driver, is really a decent person, he can answer most of my questions, and he’s right there.

You shouldn’t be talking to him.

Well, you three aren’t very good conversation.

Why?

Because the more I know, the better off I’ll be when we get to Babylon.

Why do you care? Daniel repeated his challenge.

Because I want to live!

Daniel shook his head and looked down at his feet.

Daniel, I don’t think it’s going to go well for those who don’t adapt.

The son of Abda shrugged apathetically to himself and took up the task of counting his toenails. Still ten.

Well, I want to live, and you should too, Hananiah snapped.

I want to live. Mishael admitted. And I still say it’s an ugly banner.

That’s Ishtar’s star, Hananiah explained. Nebushumlishtar is named for her; she’s his patron.

Daniel ignored them. The sideboards creaked, and their two mules trudged on. The driver, Balasi, was snoring.

One of the mules brayed.

I agree with him, Daniel muttered.

What? Mishael asked.

Fine. You want to talk? The mule. I agree with him.

Ummm, how so?

He’s a mule. We’re eunuchs. We’re the same. The only worth we have is in the burdens we can carry. He snorted. Belteshazzar, the Favored of the Lord? he scoffed at his new, Babylonian name.² The only one who sees the irony in that is the mule. Don’t you understand? We can never go back home! No eunuch can ever enter into the Assembly of Judah, not ever! We are rejected of the Lord.

Mishael frowned. This is not the Lord’s fault...

No! Daniel interrupted, "It’s King Hezekiah’s! He was the one who allowed himself to be involved with the Babylonians against the Assyrians. He trusted in their schemes and intrigues rather than the Lord. He trusted them, uncircumcised Gentiles, and showed them everything in his house and the Temple treasury.

So the sacred articles from the Temple treasury are now packed away in the wagons that travel with us, and here we are too! This is the Lord’s perfect justice!

Daniel! Azariah was shocked, and Mishael sat up straight, his eyes round.

I thought you agreed with me, Daniel spat the words at Azariah.

I do, his cousin nodded uncertainly. It’s just that... I don’t know.

It’s just that things will not go well for those who don’t adapt, Hananiah repeated. But I say the Lord still hears, and I will pray for you—for all of us.

Hezekiah has other descendants more deserving of this than we are, Mishael pointed out with some heat. The current king, for one. And what about these others? He jerked his head at the other eight Judean youths behind them in the wagon. None of them are Hezekiah’s descendants, Daniel.

Daniel found he was suddenly fighting back tears. He sniffed and swung his legs over the bench, turning his back on his cousins.

They wound around a corner, and the mountains ended abruptly. A narrow shoreline and the Great Sea opened before them. Daniel had never seen the sea before, but he refused to show any interest. He quickly dropped his eyes to his feet again. He felt the curious stares of the others in the wagon, but he refused to look at them, either.

They rode on for some time, smelling the salty air and listening to the waves crashing on the rocky shoreline and the piercing cries of seagulls.

And what about Miriam? Daniel abruptly swung his legs back over the bench and demanded of Mishael. Isn’t she deserving of justice? What will become of her?

Miriam was Mishael’s sister. She was—had been—Daniel’s betrothed. And now she sat, left behind in her father’s house in Bethlehem, bereft.

Mishael swallowed hard, but he didn’t answer.

The host made its way up the Philistine coast, stopping at the legendary and mighty cities of Tyre and Sidon. They, too, owed tribute, and they also contributed their most promising sons to the care of the eunuchs of Bit Mummi.

But the eunuch recruits of Bit Mummi weren’t the only exiles. Trudging along, through the choking dust of the wagons, came hundreds of master craftsmen, skilled laborers, and their families—the most valuable people Judah and Philistia had to offer. Babylon would absorb them and make them productive members of the empire, but it would take years for their homelands to recover from their loss.

Besides the exiles, there were prisoners of war. Their number included Egyptians, as well as Greek and Lydian mercenaries. General Nebushumlishtar offered the Greeks placement in the Babylonian host with the standard wage. Considering the alternative was slavery, they all accepted the bargain. But the Egyptians and Lydians were counted as enemies, and no offer was made to them.

After Sidon, the numbers of exiles and prisoners of war were complete. The Army of Babylon marched north until it reached the Litani River and finally turned east. The river ran through the forests of Lebanon, where they joined the Damascus Road.

The broad roadway wound through the mountains. Towering cliffs rose on either side. It was a perfect place for an ambush, but Damascus wasn’t ambushing anyone anymore. The road climbed the cliffside to arrive on a fertile plateau. From there, the host skirted a steep ravine beside the south bank of one of the branches of the Barada River.

And there it was—the Star of Aram. A waterfall plunged 600 feet from the city’s plateau to shroud the valley below in permanent mist. The city’s strangely delicate and artistic grey stone walls, outlined by a cloudless blue sky, rose straight from the cliffs of the plateau. Surrounded by mountains and fertile farmland, Damascas was breathtaking.

Daniel refused to be impressed and stayed by the wagon as the army broke camp for a short stay.

Azariah though, encouraged by Ashpenaz and the other eunuchs, ventured out to discover Damascas’ vast and colorful marketplace. Soon, Hananiah and Mishael left too.

Mishael came back by sunset and began enthusiastically extolling the goods he had discovered there. Daniel, you should have come! Here, I brought you a melon.

He tossed the small round fruit in Daniel’s lap.

Daniel, sitting dejectedly on the ground, leaning against one wagon wheel, looked at it. You took a bite out of it!

I had to make sure it was good, didn’t I?

Is it?

For this time of the year? It’s incredible!

Daniel cracked it open and tasted it. It was good. Mishael dropped down and scooted up against the wagon next to Daniel. He reached under his robe and pulled out two flatbread sandwiches filled with a smoky fish and bulgur mixture. He handed one to Daniel. Fresh fish, not dried. The sweetcakes didn’t manage to make it back here, though.

Daniel punched him. Then he took a bite of the sandwich. Mmmm! I wasn’t aware Hittites could cook!

There are no Hittites anymore, Mishael munched and spoke at the same time. They’re all gone. They call Syria the Kingdom of Aram now, and it’s a subkingdom of Babylonia. Apparently, Babylonians can cook."

Startled, Daniel stared at him. Babylonians?

"Yes, Pekod Arameans. The new king is one Damos, originally from outside Ur in Babylonia. I’m betting he’s a relative of the emperor.³

Thoughtfully, Daniel took another bite of the fish. Amazing what you can learn at a market.

Isn’t it? Munch, munch. Told you, you should have come.

Hananiah and Azariah appeared, loaded down with food and other purchases. They dropped to the ground in front of the other two and began showing off their acquisitions as they ate. Look at this thing, Hananiah unfolded a beautiful green and gold blanket. Real Damascan linen, at a tenth of the price that you’d find it in Jerusalem.

Daniel sighed. Hananiah, I’d rather pay the price in Jerusalem.

Daniel, his cousin admonished him gently, Life continues. The world is huge, and you’re missing it! Let Jerusalem go.

I can’t.

The Plain of Shinar, Babylonia

The next day, the host and the caravan moved on. The road traveled in the shadow of the northern foothills. The exiles skirted the desert and eventually passed through the Median City of Harran. The snow-capped mountains to the north rose to staggering heights. Snow still fell. Down on the road and the city, it was a miserable, cold, drenching rain. Despite the weather, they spent only one day in the town before they headed back southeast, following the Euphrates River towards Babylon.

Five hundred miles, that was how far they had come from Jerusalem. At the speed caravans moved, and with all the stops, it seemed they had been traveling forever. Daniel was shocked when Muleteer Balasi told them it had only been a little over a month and a half. Of course, he actually said, a moon and a half. Daniel was even more shocked when he realized that Balasi was speaking Aramaic and that he hadn’t even noticed.⁴

It’s flat. Perfectly flat, said Mishael.

Daniel looked around and stretched, surprised that Mishael had directed the comment at him. Mishael had stopped speaking to him some time ago since he rarely answered. What is flat? he muttered, not really interested.

The land. Daniel, look at it. Mishael sounded amazed. They had emerged from the damp forests surrounding the Anatho River Crossing to... this.

Daniel finally took in his surroundings. Canals divided the plain into identical square fields, but it was winter, and no one was working the land. At least, it was no longer raining. The strange, checkered appearance of the fields diminished in size until they vanished in a blue haze beyond which was nothing at all. Oh. So?

So we can look right to the edge of the world, and there’s still no Babylon. This plain goes on forever.

Hananiah leaned back and spoke to Balasi in halting Aramaic. Then he turned back to face Mishael. We’re ten days out from Babylon, counting the river crossing. Balasi says you can’t see it until a half-day after you cross the River at Ammunat Sippar, and then it’s still a day and a half away. But for now, it’s too far beyond the circle of the world. You can’t see it.

Mishael shook his head, unconvinced. If it were there, we’d see it. Right, Daniel?

It’s there, Hananiah said.

Leave me alone, Daniel growled.

For how long? Mishael snapped, suddenly angry. How long are you going to keep this up?

Forever.

No! We’re almost there. It’s time. Daniel, you’ve got to stop this!

Haven’t you heard? I’m not Daniel; I’m Belteshazzar. Daniel died back in Jerusalem. Maybe Belteshezzar can die in Babylon.

All three of his companions sucked in their breath. Suicide is forbidden, Daniel. Azariah gasped.

Daniel sat up straight, suddenly angry. To Daniel, the Judean, yes, of course! The Ten Commandments Moses received from the hand of the Lord forbid it. But I am not Judean. No eunuch can enter into the Assembly. I’m Chaldean. Does Marduk forbid suicide, too?

Marduk’s not real. Mishael pointed out.

No, but Prince Nebushumlishtar is, and he’s made sure that we’re far too closely watched for anyone to try it anyway.

You wouldn’t, Azariah was scandalized.

Mishael knew better. You’re right, that is exactly why they watch us so closely. And it’s a good thing. Otherwise, I’d have to be up all night watching you.

No one asked you to do any such thing! If the Lord has abandoned us, what does it matter? We’re lost!

This is not the Lord’s fault! Mishael replied hotly.

No, no, it’s not! Daniel snapped at him. He ignored the tear that ran down his cheek. It’s not the Lord’s fault. And I’ve thought about it; it’s not really Hezekiah’s fault either. It’s not Moses’ fault; it’s not even that nonexistent Marduk’s fault. It’s Nebuchadnezzar’s fault!

Belteshazzar, came a chiding voice suddenly beside him. He glanced up to see Ashpenaz hopping up on the wagon beside him. He sat down, facing him, next to Azariah. Ashpenaz was the Chaldean eunuch that Nebuchadnezzar had appointed over them

Daniel’s companions suddenly became interested in the passing grass and rutted road.

Ashpenaz was, like almost all eunuchs, tall, with a full head of hair, and no beard. Would you like some wine? You look as if you could use some.

Daniel looked away. The Babylonian official spoke Hebrew fluently, and he certainly had heard the last bit of that argument.

Take the wine, lad.

Daniel looked at the wineskin.

It’s a good vintage, Ashpenaz explained. Strong stuff. I’ve tried it myself. A gift from King Jehoiakim.

Judean wine. It was clean.

Daniel nodded and took the wineskin. He gulped several swigs, and it burned on the way down. Then he looked back at the eunuch in front of him and tried to return it, but the Chaldean refused.

Keep it; it’s yours.

Daniel handed the skin to Hananiah, who shared it with Mishael and Azariah. They rode in silence for a short while. Your lives aren’t over yet, lad, said Ashpenaz quietly. In fact, I think you’ll find they’re finally beginning.

Daniel glanced at him sharply.

The official chuckled softly. "Yes, I know what you’re feeling. I went through it too, you know. You’re young and of excellent stock. You’ll adapt. In time, you’ll even look back and realize how incredibly fortunate you are, but I don’t expect you to see that yet.

It’s not the king’s fault. This is how it’s always been done. Not just in Babylonia, but in Assyria, Lydia, Egypt, probably elsewhere as well. Someone has to represent your people, and you are their best. But if you must blame someone, blame me.

Daniel laughed bitterly. Because blaming you is safer?

Ashpenaz chuckled good-naturedly. You see? You really are a smart one.

Daniel took back the wineskin from Azariah and drained it.

In ten days, we will reach Babylon. You will have five moons before the New Year to adjust to your new culture and language. You will attend classes to help you with this. Once the Akitu is over, First Year classes will start, and there will be no more Hebrew spoken amongst you for the next year. Everything you say in Aramaic will be certain to be heard, understood, and reported. So there will be no more of this kind of talk either because you would be endangering not only yourself but also to whomever you may be talking. Is that clear?

Daniel glared at him in open defiance.

I think you care about these three. So keep them safe. Think about someone other than yourself.

Why do you care?

So, you realize that I do care.

Yes. Why?

Because you are... special. You’re strong-willed but brilliant. Courageous, too. You just don’t see that yet. You may turn out to be my most important legacy, other than the king, the soon-to-be-queen, and Prince Nebushumlishtar over there. That is, if I can keep you alive long enough to fulfill your potential.

So, you threaten my cousins’ lives to keep me in line?

Whatever works. Do we understand each other?

The youth dropped the empty wineskin over the side of the wagon and sullenly nodded.

Good. There’s more of that wine. I’ll have it sent over. He raised his voice and addressed all the Judeans. I’ll send wine for you all! And there will be more when we first sight Babylon. That’s a promise.

The other occupants of the Judean wagon cheered, and Ashpenaz jumped lightly over the side and let the wagon roll on without him.

CHAPTER 3

The Scroll

Jerusalem, Judah

It was half-way through the third month by the Judean calendar—over a month since the exiles had been carried away—and life was returning to normal.¹ The weeks of wailing in the streets and in the Temple court had subsided. The city now went about its business in a subdued, dull, dark fashion. Many families were missing members from their tables, and the Temple was missing many of its most valuable vessels. The Babylonian overseers patrolled the streets to see that no rebellion was brewing.

The sun was setting. The shadow of Baruch’s tiny house loomed large across the Temple’s Western Wall. Light shown directly through the unshuttered west window, illuminating the front room and Baruch’s pretty young wife, Sarah. A study in gracefulness, she leaned across the table and lit a beautifully intricate filigree brass oil lamp. Shortly, it would be dark, and the light would be needed. The lamp was a gift to the scribe’s wife from the prophet. It was her most prized possession, as she was Baruch’s.

But Baruch knew that not even the sun’s setting light or the lamp’s bright flame could illumine the dark form in the corner. The Prophet to the Nations, wrapped in his cowhide mantle, leaned against the wall. His coat seemed to absorb light in much the same way as the night swallowed the day and Jeremiah’s tall figure was hardly more than a shadow—a foreboding promise of a bleak and mysterious future that was almost upon them.

The hairy mantle was a prophet’s badge of office, a tradition since the Prophet Elijah, but Jeremiah never wore it except when duty called. It called now, and Jeremiah was brooding.

It was time for the evening meal, and the delicious smell of lamb and lentil stew was bubbling from the hearth. The prophet was unaware, focused inward, probably praying. Baruch sighed and motioned Sarah to serve herself. It was unlikely that he was going to taste from that pot tonight. Sarah filled her bowl, lifted it towards heaven, and silently backed into the adjoining bedroom, leaving the fire to die down of its own accord.

The son of Neriah pulled a stool from under the table. Are you just going to keep standing there? Or could I at least get you to sit at the table?

Jeremiah absently set himself down on the stool, stretched his long legs out in front of him, and leaned back against the table, gazing intently at a point above his head as he remained lost in thought.

Was he listening to a voice Baruch couldn’t hear?

The scribe took his writing kit from its shelf along the plastered and white-washed wall, and grabbed a wood-framed wax tablet off the stack he kept there. I don’t mean to rush you, Nabi, but you said...

No, Jeremiah muttered, talking to the ceiling. No wax.

I know, you said it’s time to record the Words the Lord has given you, Baruch returned, confused. Didn’t Jeremiah want the first draft in wax? Well, at least he was finally talking.

It is time. The people are foolish. They grieve, but only for what they have lost, not for what they have done. They think it is over, that the loss of the exiled is the price they have paid for their sins and so they remain unrepentant. They need to be reminded what the Lord has said.

Nabi, I prefer to use tablets. I’ll transfer it after, to make sure it’s right first...²

No. This is going to take long enough without writing it twice. It will be right the first time. Have faith.

Baruch gave the stew a longing look, then turned away and took a deep breath. I have faith in the Lord. But as for myself...

Jeremiah straightened up and finally looked at the scribe. Baruch, if He can quicken my memories so that I recall all His words, He can guide your hand to record them accurately. That is why He made you. It’s why you’re here. He gave Baruch a crooked smile. Have faith. No wax. But the other scrolls you have done—get them.

Reluctantly, Baruch slid the tablet back on the top of the stack of wax inserts. Then he pulled a large chest over next to his stool at the small table. He opened it. It was almost full of rolls of papyrus, carefully tied shut. The scribe then went back to the shelf and took down a meticulously rolled scroll of very expensive parchment. He had guarded it for years for such a purpose.

No, not vellum, papyrus, the prophet frowned.

But if we’re making a permanent copy...

Papyrus is lighter to carry, and this will not be the final copy. There will be one more. You may use the parchment for that.

Gritting his teeth, Baruch chose a large papyrus roll from the shelf, turned, and walked back to the table, settling himself on his own stool. He pulled the ribbon, untieing the scroll, set a vial of ink next to his elbow, and sharpened a pen. Finally, the scribe nodded to his employer and dipped the pen in the ink. He was ready.

Jeremiah leaned back against the table again, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. The Words of Jeremiah ben Hilkiah, one of the priests at Anathoth in the territory of Benjamin. The Word of the Lord came to him in the thirteenth year of the reign of Josiah ben Amon, King of Judah...³

CHAPTER 4

A New Home

Babylon, Babylonia

"That’s it," Balisu cheerfully said, pointing east.

Daniel looked up to see a dark line on the horizon punctuated by a pyramid of perfectly symmetrical proportions.

Babylon? Hananiah asked. By this time, he was their spokesman with the driver.

The City of Babylon, the Temple Foundation of Heaven and Earth, Balisu confirmed. You can see it already, because it’s so tall. The ziggaurat is called Etenemenaki. Can you see how the top is gold? There’s a shrine there, the Sarahu of Marduk’s Couch. Maybe you can see it. Some can. My eyes aren’t good enough. But Etenemenaki is huge. It has its own grounds, right next to Esagila, the religious quarter. Bit Mummi, the University of Babylon, is part of Esagila. That’s where we’re going. That’s your new home. We will be at the city walls within six beru. Another half beru after that, and you’ll be home.

The muleteer sounded like he was a tour guide and they were on a holiday jaunt, Daniel thought sourly.

Good, Hananiah said. I never want to ride in another wagon for the rest of my life.

It was morning, but it would be well after dark when they arrived. Daniel thought about it. He disagreed with Hananiah. He’d much rather stay in the wagon forever then to live in a temple complex of a thousand gods.

Balisu laughed at Hananiah’s sentiments and clucked the mules into a trot.

As the army approached, the city walls grew, and grew, and grew. Their height was staggering, and the area that they encompassed? It could have swallowed Jerusalem, the south road and finally Bethlehem too. Despite himself, Daniel was overawed. He had never in his wildest imaginations conceived of such a place.

The sun was long down as Balisu’s tired mules finally trotted down the road which ran along the eastern bank of the Euphrates. The road, wall and battlements were lit by torches.

Mishael leaned back, looking straight up at the pyramid which was brightly illuminated by huge oil lamps encased in shaved glass. It somehow managed to loom higher than the walls. He leaned over and whispered to Daniel, Do you think it’s really the Tower of Babel? It sure does look like it’s trying to reach heaven. It’s the size of a mountain.¹

Ashpenaz cantered up on a brown mare just in time to catch the question. He pulled his mount in to match the wagon’s pace and he laughed. "In the morning, the River’s mist rises` so that its top is shrouded in clouds. Does that make it Nimrod’s Tower? That depends upon who you ask. The denizens of Ur contends that it is Etemenniguru—their tower to the moon-god Sin—that was Nimrod’s glory. The old king, Nabopolassar, was of House Yakin, so he supported that view.

The new king is Bit Yakin, too, but Nebuchadnezzar was raised here in Babylon, it will be interesting to see if he expresses an opinion one way or the other. He shrugged. Both cities were built by Nimrod and both are on the plain of Shinar. So which god do you prefer, Belteshazzar? Marduk, or Sin?

Daniel’s eyes flashed in anger. Nimrod wasn’t building to the glory of either of those, those gods!’ He was building out of sheer defiance of the Most High!

Ashpenaz raised an eyebrow. When you speak, Belteshazzar, people should pay attention. You are correct. Nimrod hated Enlil and wished to dethrone Him. It was not Nimrod’s purpose to replace the Most High with either Marduk or Sin, but rather with mankind. It was only later that Marduk and Sin appropriated the towers. For this reason some also say that it is the Tower of Borsippa, at Enlil’s very gate, that was Nimrod’s real tower.

The people of Babylonia aren’t that different from my people, Daniel gritted, They are forever adding to the plain teaching of history. Nimrod built only one tower, even if we don’t know which one. We do know all the others are fakes, copies of his efforts. He may have built four cities, but he only built one tower. ``Nimrod failed, but some have made him into a deity even so.

He built four cities in Shinar, Ashpenaz countered, "but