Chapter One:

The month of Ab, the fifth month of the eleventh year of King Jehoiakim; 598 BC...

The throne room was comfortably cool, most refreshing to those who had just come in from the heat of the midday sun, but to the King it was just another luxury deserving one of his masterful power and authority. However, Jehoiakim’s visible air of “power and authority” seemed to have been about as present as the heat within that inner chamber as he slouched down into the plush crimson cushions of his throne, head in his hand. Raising a disinterested eyebrow, he glanced about at the brightly lit chamber, at the multi-armed golden candelabras that illuminated his presence, the finely knit rugs and assorted swords and weapons that he had to decorate his walls, and the small statuettes and idols of gold, silver, stone and wood he had placed in niches all around his throne room. A rich red carpet that flowed down the central dais on which he sat through the center of the room to the entrance that led out to the palace proper, his private domain, and various dignitaries, ministers and magistrates, city elders, treasurers, priests, and military officers stood lining the sides of the room. Before him, standing at attention at the center of the carpet that flowed down from beneath him stood Sherebiah, chief of military forces within Judah, dressed in full military regalia, and accompanied by his recorder, Abdi, who was currently reading off the day by day descriptions taken from the last month’s logs from the scouts who had been sent to observe the battles between Nebuchadnezzar and his forces and the desert tribes with which they had been battling since the conquest of Egypt some year or two ago. It was not that he did not want to hear these reports, far from it, for it was by his edict that the scouts had been sent to observe and report on the battle. This man Abdi, though… his reading of the reports seemed to be as dull as watching ice melt.

“On day thirty of the month’s observations, the commander reports that ten battle groups of Babylonian warriors, led by Commander Nebuzaradan of Nebuchadnezzar’s Imperial guard, led a preemptive assault early in the morning against the enemy’s strongholds, managing to defeat the first line of defense and entering into the city. These forces’ assault was deflected by the fortress’s defenders, inflicting a significant amount of damage on six of the ten battle groups. Averaging in this assault in with the various other debacles against each other during the month, it seems as though they have entered into a stalemate.  This is either a sign of the tenacity of the Hittites and the other desert tribes’ tenacity to preserve their holdings or the true weakness of the Babylonian military and their commanders.”

The King snorted and sat back up, eyes narrowed as he looked down at the recorder, his face portraying a rather dire expression. “Are you done?”

Abdi nodded, saying nothing, and then bowed meekly, rolling up his scroll, placing it under his arm and retreating behind Commander Sherebiah.

“Well then, so it seems as though that those fools may have overestimated their chances against the Hittites and their ilk. If he somehow makes it past them, surely he will not succeed in conquering our defenses.” Jehoiakim let a cocky laugh echo out as he stuck his head up in the air. “We will crush him under our heels, shall we not, Commander?”

Sherebiah said nothing, but merely smiled and gave a curt bow to his lord. While optimism was admirable, unfounded pride did nothing but deceive one and make them ill prepared for the battle that would come. However, he would not be fool enough to say that to the face of the king if he valued his life.

Noticing how no one in the chamber shared in his joy, either simply smiling or forcing themselves to laugh along, the king stopped and snorted again in resentment as he straightened himself upon his seat. “Commander, advise our scouts to continue their operations and have their report… a more truncated version of their report… ready to have presented to me at the usual appointed time.”

“As you wish, my liege.” The Commander bowed.

“Also, Commander, what have you heard from the patrols sent to locate the prophet Jeremiah, or his scribe?”

He looked up, matching the king’s eyes and gulped, but tried to keep any emotion from his face. “My units report, you highness, that…”

“That?”

“…that no signs have been found of where he could be. We’ve sent word to all our remaining cities and strongholds, and also have a small contingent stationed at his home city of Anathoth, to keep an eye out for both Jeremiah, son of Hilkiah, and Baruch, son of Neraiah. We can only hope that our informants will be able to locate him soon.”

“Well, what about when he’s here in Jerusalem? It is common knowledge how this infidel appears from time to time within our city’s markets, calling out his heretical rhetorics and causing distress within the community. Why have you not caught him on any of these occasions?”

“By the time a unit of the city guard arrives, my king, the prophet and his accomplice have disappeared, and no one seems to be able to give us a straight answer on where he has gone.”

“I will not be mocked by this… this priest and his kind, those who would hold to that outdated religion of Yahweh worship. I want anyone who is sympathetic to this would be prophet and his cause caught and executed! I will not be mocked!” Jehoiakim’s nostrils flared and his face contorted into a beast-like visage as he screamed out over the gathered crowd, causing them all to shrink back, unsure of what he would do. “I would have torn down that temple and had its whole priesthood executed by now if it wouldn’t have caused rioting in the streets. Though it seems inconceivable, there are still those who hold to the antiquated notions of Yahweh and have some sort of allegiance to that temple.” Pausing again, he regained his composure, his face growing very cold as he began again, his voice frighteningly emotionless. “Commander, I want to make this very clear, find him and bring him to me, or it will be your head gracing my wall.”

The commander clicked his heels together and bowed before turning on heel and leaving with Abdi, cloak billowing behind. “Your will be done, King Jehoiakim.”

The whole situation concerning that treasonous wretch Jeremiah and his cohort had wrenched away the energy from his body and left him drained. Gathering his robes around his form, he stood, almost weakly, and snarled at those who stood before him and wove them away with a hand. “It is time for my lunch and I grow tired of these… spiritless proceedings. Thus I say be gone… all of you… so that I may dine in peace.”

Not wishing to incur any more wrath on the part of their highly volatile ruler, the general assembly that had gathered began to part towards the common entrances to the throne room, thus allowing the peace the king had requested. Jehoiakim smiled inwardly as he began to strut from his platform, all those who were around him removing themselves from his path, and delighted at how readily these people submitted to his will. A lone hand, however, reached from the crowd and grasped firmly upon his violet robes. Eyes aflame, the Jewish monarch snatched a small bejeweled dagger from within his coat and almost reflexively slashed at the one who had taken hold of him, cutting a thin slice against the man’s knuckles and causing him to retract back. “How dare you place your hand upon me, even taking the gall to step into my presence without my permission.” Jehoiakim resheathed his weapon and turned on heel, a soul-chilling smile creeping upon his lips. “I would have expected especially you to know that, boy.”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re an incredible people person, father?” Prince Jehoiachin quipped, streams of blood flowing from between his fingers as he clutched his bleeding knuckle.

“No, actually… and if anyone had spoken to me in the tone you just did, my dear Coniah, they would be dead and on the floor before the statement left their lips.” His father returned to the crimson path that he had been following, leaving his son standing idly by before he perked up and chased after him.

“Father, don’t you think you should pay your ministers a little more respect and listen to what they have to say before you go and stuff your gullet? Especially since it was you who called them in?”

“Show them respect? Why should I? I am the supreme being within this kingdom, and it is their life’s wish to do my every whim, as it justly should be.” Jehoiakim’s voice rose in volume, taking on a “matter of fact” tone as he spoke. “And might I remind you that you are not beyond being beaten and imprisoned for your lack of respect to me.”

“Well, at least pay some mind to the Minister of Finance. Today is the day the tax collectors are to be sent throughout the kingdom and the latest of your “financial resolutions” will be put into effect.”

“I will pay nothing, but will receive the Minister once his men return to Jerusalem with my money. Now, prince, I have other matters to attend to and no longer wish to continue this pointless discussion. As far as I am concerned, the matter is settled!”

Prince Jehoiachin just stopped where he was and no longer followed after his father. The debate with that man, at this point, was over. As he saw the violet trimmed figure disappear down the shadowed corridor of the royal entryway, he wrinkled his nose, stamping his feet and following out behind the rest of the rabble that was still leaving and cursed his father under his breath. “That lecherous old fool.”

The city of Jerusalem seemed to sprawl out before him as far as his eyes could see, like a great anthill with workers milling about the streets going about their dutied tasks.  Leaning forward upon the windowsill, the young lad smiled as he felt the warmth of the bricks upon his skin and the coolness of his room on the rest of his body. Below, he caught a glimpse of a group of children, about four or more of them, scampering about the streets and playing whatever game it was that they had devised. Hophni and his father had only been in Jerusalem for two weeks, since their sudden move from Hebron, and as of yet he hadn’t gotten to know any of the children within the city or had the chance to make any new friends. His father was being overly worried for him, constantly lecturing about the dangers of the city, especially a city like Jerusalem, for a child of only four years.

“How boring,” he yawned, taking his head from his hands and laying it down on the sill.

“Hophni! Hophni!”  The boy turned, looking towards the doorway as he saw his father appear, his evergreen robes bunching up around his shoulders as he leaned forward onto the shepherd’s staff which he used as a walking stick. Wiping a few gray strands back onto his balding crown, Jekamiah smiled as he hobbled over towards Hophni, placing a hand on the boy’s little shoulder and leaning to look out the window. “What is it that you’re watching?”

Hophni glanced up to regard Jekamiah and then return to his previous position. “Nothing much, father.”

“Nothing but those children playing in the market down there, I’d imagine.” He chuckled and patted the little one once more, knowing all too well the urges of youth. “I know it seems cruel to you, but trust me when I say that this city is not what it used to be and it’s not safe for a young one anymore. The only way I would let you go out here is if someone accompanied you… one of the servants or myself.”

“But father…”

“No buts,” Jekamiah chided with a voice of reassuring firmness as he wrapped an arm around Hophni and led him away. “Now come, it’s time for your lessons.”

Dour, he nodded, saying nothing, and followed his elderly parent out of his bedroom, his mind still drifting back to his daydreams and wishes to run out and play.

The stiff, needle-like spines of the hedgehog scraped at his skin as Hophni ran his hand over its back, the creature completely at ease as it lay in the covered part of his lap. Jubal, the name this little creature had because of his receiving it as a gift from his father on his last, his fourth, birthday, had grown quite tame in the few months that he had had him, but still he had his wild moments.  Smiling, he glanced down at his pet as it dozed in his lap, all the while sitting cross-legged at his father’s feet on the dirt floor as he listened to him read from a parchment on the history of Israel and Judah, passed down from his father’s father.

“’Then the two men returned, descended from the mountain, and passed over, and came to Joshua the son of Nun; and they told him all that had befallen them. And they said unto Joshua, ‘Truly Yahweh has delivered into our hands all the land; and moreover all the inhabitants of the land do melt away before us.’’” Jekamiah spun around on his stool, rolling up his parchment and placing it down beside the oil lamp near the edge of his desk. “And that concludes the story of the two spies of Israel, their mission into the city of Jericho, and of Rahab, the ancestor of the great Davidic line. Any questions?”

The boy was silent, merely glancing down at his hedgehog and stroking its back. Sighing at the sight, he lowered himself from his resting spot, easing his weight gently on to one knee, and placed a hand under Hophni’s chin and lifted it so that they sat eye to eye. “What is wrong, my child? Your face looks so long, it almost looks as if it would touch the floor.” He chuckled quietly at his joke, trying to get the boy to smile or respond in some form, but to no effect. Hophni had been in this mood since the family and servants had abruptly abandoned their home in Hebron because of a conspiracy against him by the other elders of the city and some of the more influential nobles, most of whom were worshipers of Baal, Asherah and just about any of the other more popular idols of the people. It was corruption to the uppermost levels of the city government and they were unhappy with his “views” as Chief Elder, with his upholding of the Law and allegiance to the true religion of their nation, the one by which Israel had been founded. That was why he had to leave, or else the consequences would have been…drastic, especially to his family. There was no way he could explain this to Hophni. This would have been beyond his understanding, and he didn’t want to put any added stress upon his small shoulders, thus he only told him that they were moving to the family villa in Jerusalem because he felt that they would be safer from the bandits that were raiding the countryside in the capitol.

Hophni remained sullen faced, trying to remove his head from his father’s hand. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“I may be old, young one, but I am not senile. When a child says nothing is wrong after they but mope around the house for a week, it begins to become apparent to even those of us with graying hair that something is amiss.”  Jekamiah took up his walking stick and leaned his whole body upon it as he lifted himself from his knees and stood back to full height. “Though you seem reluctant to tell me what’s wrong, I do believe, if my observations have been correct, that I know what it is already. With that in mind, I have decided that we shall go on an expedition into the wilderness around Jerusalem, do some exploring and some hands on work for your lessons in the sciences. What do you have to say to that?”

The boy’s eyes were ablaze with delight as he placed his hands on the floor behind him, leaning back to look his father in the face with an impish grin. “Are we really, father!?”

“Yes, yes, you know I wouldn’t lie to you,” he chuckled, passing a hand through and ruffling his son’s curly ebony locks. “We’ll go the market this very day and gather some provisions for the trip, plus since I’ll be with you, you can go and look around a bit.”

One of the servants appeared in the doorway, catching Jekamiah’s attention as he turned from Hophni, who was now jumping to his feet and dancing about the room with Jubal in his arms, delighted by his father’s news.

“If I catch anything while we’re out, can I keep it as a pet!?”

“Erm, well,” he paused in mid-step as he was walking out of the room, surprised by his son’s comments, though he shouldn’t have been surprised with Hophni’s love of animals. “We’ll deal with that when and if the time comes. As for now, wait here and I shall return in a moment, Hophni.”

A newborn feeling of joy filled the young one’s soul as he bounced about the room. At last, for the first time since they had moved into the villa, he was finally gonna get to go out… to explore, to play, to meet new friends.  Running to the window, Hophni jumped onto the sill and looked out from his vantage point on the second floor of their home, once more watching all the people and seeing all the different stands down in the market. “Look at it all, Jubal,” he chirped, holding his little pet out in front of him as he took in a whiff of fresh baked bread from the nearby bakery. “Imagine all the fun we’re gonna have here!”

“I apologize for the disturbance of young master Hophni’s lessons, Master, but there is a man here to see you. Says he’s from the Palace.”

“From the palace, eh?” Jekamiah whispered, stroking his chest-long gray beard momentarily before glancing sidewise towards his young attendant. “Did he say what he wanted?”

“No, Master, but by the looks of the change purse he was petting on his belt, I’d say he was one of the King’s tax collectors.”

“So soon do Jehoiakim’s vultures swoop.  It’s not even the end of the first week of the month. Very well then, I shall speak with him personally. Thank you, Ashpenaz.”

The servant bowed and retreated down the shadowed inner corridor to continue his daily tasks, leaving his master to trod in the opposite direction towards the stairwell.

Step by step he eased his way down the stairs and watched as the doorway drew ever closer, listening to the sounds of shuffling footsteps below, echoing in the silence of his home. Lowering himself into the bottom of the well, Jekamiah straightened his robes around him and smiled welcomingly as he stepped through the brightly lit doorway.

“Good day to you, sir,” he smiled, spreading out his arms into the air in welcome. “I am Jekamiah, son of Pekah, master of this household. I’ve been told that you wish to speak with me.”

The gentlemen was caught by surprise, having been admiring the various decorations that were set about the small square vestibule. He was a thin man, dressed in a entirely dark brown robe with crisp, clean tan underclothes bound at the waist with a leather belt the same color as his robe, about handbreadth in height. His hair was dark black, looking rather short, though it was mostly hidden by a bundled cloth cap that sat on his head, with the outer ridge a dark brown and the center dome over his head being a crimson color, and was well trimmed with beard and a wispy mustache showing on the upper lip of his long, gaunt, emotionless face. “Good day, Master Jekamiah, my name is Kahsef, a servant of our Lord, King Jehoiakim, and of his Minister of Finances.” Reaching into his robe, he removed a large change purse that had been attached to his belt and dropped it into his opposite palm, the money within clanging together. Music to Kahsef’s ears. “I have come to collect this month’s taxes from your household.”

“So soon in the month? It has been custom since before his highness’s brother was on the throne that taxes were to be collected at the end of the month.”

“It is our Lord’s prerogative when the taxes are to be collected. If he wishes for them to be collected at the beginning on the month, then that is when they shall be collected.”

“Without giving notice to the people?”

“It is his prerogative, after all, as I said.” Removing the leather strap from the top his bag, the tax collector held it open towards Jekamiah. “Now if you’ll be so kind to deposit your seventy shekels, then I can be on my way.”

“Seventy shekels!? So Jehoiakim has issued a tax increase as well as changing the date of tax collection.” Jekamiah’s displeasure was all too evident on his face as he reached into his own robe and pulled out his purse. “I certainly hope there is a method behind the king’s madness and this new tax is not to line his own purse.”

“The tax increase is part of King Jehoiakim’s lastest financial resolution to fund preparations should we have to go to war.”

“Oh war, of course.” Walking over to a small chest that sat nestled underneath a small wooden table in the far right side of the room near the entrance to the stairwell, Jekamiah took up a small scale and a box of weights and set them out. Removing the small bundle of  fifty shekels he had tied up in his purse for just this purpose, he put them on one side of the scale before taking the appropriate weights from the box and set them on the opposite scale. The device balanced, perfectly, as he knew it would, and confirmed both to himself and to Kahsef the amount of the pieces he had tied out before he went about adding two additional, smaller weights that would bring the weight of the one side to seventy. He then proceeded to reach into his purse once more and grabbed a few more silver pieces and placed them on the shekel side, adding and removing pieces and watching carefully as the scales finally balanced out, before he snatched them up into his hands and deposited them into the tax collector’s bag. “And there you go, my good man, to the fill the treasuries of our mighty warrior king.”

“Thank you, Master Jekamiah,” Kahsef commented with as close to an expression of happiness he could emulate with his monotone voice, Jekamiah supposed, as the man slowly dropped the money into his bag and listened to them chime together before he sealed it up and returned it to his belt. “Until next month.”

Jekamiah nodded, watching momentarily as Kahsef exited his home, closing the front door behind him, and then placing his scales and weights away before heading back upstairs. “Financial preparations to go to war,” he snorted as he began to make his way back upstairs to return to Hophni’s lesson. Jehoiakim was about as ready to use this tax money to prepare for war as he himself was to go sacrifice his only son to the Baals, he was sure of it. Most likely he had just paid to help continue construction on one of the king’s many ornate additions to the palace, as well as many of the other personal contruction projects he had set up all across Judah. Ignoring the good of the people and satisfying the gluttonous will of the nobility, this, too sadly, was the way things were continuing to develop within Jerusalem and the entire kingdom of Judah. Jekamiah only hoped now that with his presence in the Capitol he might be able to sway the mind of the King to make a few resolutions to bring the kingdom back to the Lord. Though this seemed a far-fetched idea, there had been many a miracle in Israel’s past and he prayed this would be brought among them.