Read The Jerusalem Creed: A Sean Wyatt Thriller Online

Authors: Ernest Dempsey

Tags: #Assassinations, #Conspiracies, #Historical, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Spies & Politics, #Suspense, #Terrorism, #Thrillers, #Thrillers & Suspense

The Jerusalem Creed: A Sean Wyatt Thriller

BOOK: The Jerusalem Creed: A Sean Wyatt Thriller
2.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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THE JERUSALEM CREED

 

ERNEST DEMPSEY

 

COPYRIGHT ©2015 ERNESTDEMPSEY.NET

 

 

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Prologue

Jerusalem

598 B.C.

 

Chaos raged through the streets of the ancient walled city. Women ran with tear-filled faces through the dusty alleyways and thoroughfares, hauling screaming children with them. Able-bodied men were issued swords to help defend the walls, some lucky enough to also receive a shield. Supplies were limited, so many were only equipped with farm tools as weapons. Even some of the older men were ushered to the walls to defend the city, despite their confused and bewildered complaints.

Their king, a noncommittal man by the name of Jehoiakim, had pledged allegiance to Babylon after the pagan king Nebuchadnezzar II had defeated Pharaoh Neco at the Battle of Carchemish several years before. When the Babylonian king failed in his attempt to invade Egypt, Jehoiakim had flip-flopped back to an alliance with Egypt once more.

The high priest, an old man named Tovar, had warned against making an allegiance with any pagan kings, telling Jehoiakim that God had forbidden any such alliance.

Now, their city and its people were paying the price for the king’s disobedience. Nebuchadnezzar had laid siege to Jerusalem, the last stronghold of the Jewish nation. Now, after several weeks of strangling the city, his armies were raining down on the walls from the surrounding hills.

Tovar stared up into the late afternoon sky from his quarters at the temple. The blazing sun seemed to provide no warmth, even though the day itself was as hot as he could remember for that time of year. He knew the Babylonian tactics, perhaps better than Jehoiakim himself. This attack would be the first of several waves. They would withdraw to reinforce themselves, strengthen their numbers, and then return at first light when the Israelites were in a slumber of false security.

He felt the presence of someone on the balcony with him, and he turned around. His two assistants stood in the doorway with pained looks on their faces. Both were in their early twenties and outstanding scholars of the Scriptures. If their nation were to live on, one of them would make an excellent high priest someday. Tovar knew, however, that day would never come.

“Master,” the one on the left, a dark-haired man with thick eyebrows named Lamesh, spoke first. “The Babylonians are attacking. We must get you to safety at once.”

The other one had slightly lighter hair. With his youthful face, he still looked to be in his teens. He went by the name Daniel, and he had shown great promise as an adviser to the high priest, and the king. He’d been taken as a hostage during Nebuchadnezzar’s first campaign against Israel, one that had ended much more peacefully than this one would. When he spoke, it was with a calm demeanor.

“Master Tovar, Lamesh is right. You must get to safety. The Babylonian king will not be as kind as he was seven years ago when he came here.”

Lamesh nodded in agreement.

A woman screamed from down below. Tovar glanced over the balcony wall to the street and saw her spinning around in the mass hysteria, her dark-blue robes twirling in the dust. She was screaming a name, probably that of her child who had been lost in the madness.

He returned his gaze to the two young men. “My days have been long. I have seen more sadness and grief come to our people than I ever cared to. I fear it will only grow worse after this night passes.”

“Which is why we must get you safe passage into the mountains. There is talk of a stronghold where you will be protected from the sword of Nebuchadnezzar.” Lamesh meant well, but he was wrong. Any rebel outpost would soon be laid to waste, just like the capital.

“I have a far more important mission for the two of you,” Tovar said, his eyes narrowing as he looked from one to the other. Their faces skewed with concern, but they listened respectfully. “Follow me.”

With a quickness they’d never seen from their high priest, Tovar swooshed by the two of them, his white robes and ephod flowing dramatically behind him. The two followed, uncertain where he was taking them, but with the knowledge that they were not to question, merely obey, whatever his orders might be.

He led the way through the white stone halls, past enormous marble columns and flaming sconces that kept the interior illuminated. High above the hall, cedar timbers blocked out the sun, providing a perpetually cool temperature within the temple walls. Guards were stationed at various points of entry to protect the sacred center of worship.

They reached the end of the massive corridor and turned right, heading past the dormitories and behind the main courtyard toward Tovar’s personal quarters. Even as his pace quickened, the high priest gazed upon the majesty of the temple’s interior for fear that it might be the last time his eyes beheld it in this state. It had withstood hundreds of years of war, famine, pestilence, and political unrest. The work King Solomon had done would soon be gone. Nothing could stop that now.

Inside, the sounds of pandemonium had quieted; only a few muffled prayers could be heard coming from the priestly cells as they passed by open doorways.

At the end of the narrow passage, they reached a gilded door. Tovar twisted the circular latch and pushed it open. The two younger men stopped short of the threshold, daring not enter into the high priest's quarters. It was forbidden for anyone other than him to do so.

He motioned for them to follow, but they hesitated.

“We are not permitted, master,” Daniel said respectfully.

Tovar, a few feet inside his suite, motioned again with his hand. His face expressed kindness but firm resolve. “Our laws will soon be at an end, young Daniel. Breaking them now will bring you no punishment from me, or our feeble king.”

Lamesh and Daniel looked at each other, still uncertain whether or not they should obey their master’s order, then reluctantly stepped into the suite.

The room was much larger than the other dormitory cells in the temple. Vibrant blue curtains hung next to the windows. A cedar bureau sat against the wall near a closet, the home to Tovar’s priestly vestments. A much smaller chest, made from pure gold, sat against the wall on the other side of the bed. Prayers were engraved on it in Hebrew. Atop the lid was a golden sculpture of an angel. Once again, the sounds of panic drifted to their ears from outside. In spite of the lavish apartment, the bed was simple: made from beech wood and covered with plain white sheets and pillows.

Tovar moved swiftly over to the golden chest and removed the lid, carefully placing it on the floor next to two of the claw-shaped legs. The two younger men watched with wide eyes as Tovar removed an item they had seen many times on the chest of the priest’s ephod. He reverently set the object on the foot of the bed and returned to the chest, hurriedly grabbing a small goatskin bag cinched at the top with a leather strap. He set it down next to the other object and put the lid back on the chest.

“Master, what are you doing? It isn’t time for you to go into the Holy Place?” His associate echoed Daniel’s look of concern.

“I am not going there, Daniel.” He stood erect and faced his apprentices. “My friends, my loyal servants, I have a final request for you that is of the highest order.” The two listened closely, taking in every word as if each was the last drop of water in a drying desert oasis. “Tomorrow morning, Nebuchadnezzar will take this city. When he does, the first two places he will send his men will be the palace and the temple. They will steal and loot everything they perceive to be of value. Daniel, you have spent the last seven years in the service of the Babylonian king. You know this to be true.”

Daniel nodded but said nothing. He had become a trusted adviser to Nebuchadnezzar, though his true loyalty would always be to the one true God of Israel. It was why he’d requested that the king allow him one last visit to the temple before the second attack came in the morning. He too knew that the first attack on the city walls was merely preliminary. The carnage that would come with the morning would be swift and merciless.

Tovar looked down at the two objects on the bed. “We must not allow these to be taken by the Babylonians. If they were to fall into the hands of our enemies, I fear that Israel will never be able to rise from the ashes. Nebuchadnezzar would be unstoppable, from the far reaches of Asia all the way to the foreign lands to the west. No army could ever stand in his way.”

His grim words hung in the air and reverberated off the marble walls.

He turned his attention to the older apprentice. “Lamesh, you have served me since you were just a boy. You have always done as I asked and have been loyal to the one true God of our people. What I ask you to do now, both of you, could get you killed. But I must ask: Will you serve your high priest and your God one last time?”

Lamesh nodded without reservation. Daniel did as well.

Tovar swallowed hard. “I wish there was another way. I truly do. If I were younger…” His thought trailed off. “Lamesh, you must take the Hoshen with you. Wear it under your robe. Take it far from here to a place not yet touched by the empire of Babylon. I have the fastest horse from the royal stable ready for you. Go through the southern gate where Nebuchadnezzar’s presence is weakest. Ride hard through the night, keep to the tree lines, and you should be safe.”

“Daniel, the king will be expecting you to return from your diplomatic mission. Carry this bag with you. It is imperative that Nebuchadnezzar never knows its contents. If the stones in that bag are ever reunited with the breastplate by the forces of evil, all will be lost.”

Daniel’s gaze lowered to the pouch that the high priest had placed in his hand. There was barely any weight to it, but he knew that inside, the fate of the nation, perhaps the world, rested in the balance. He looked back up at Tovar, his eyes full of question. “Master, keeping it so close to the king could be very risky. Should I not ride far to the west and hide it there?”

Tovar’s eyes filled with peaceful determination. His kind expression instantly relaxed the two younger men. “Nebuchadnezzar knows about the Hoshen, and the two stones. You both must understand something, something only the high priest knows.”

They waited breathlessly to hear what their rabbi had to say.

The old man took a breath and let his eyes wander around the room as if trying to find the right words. “These relics are not the first of their kind. The Babylonians have their own. They call them the Tablets of Destiny. Nebuchadnezzar’s tablets, however, are useless. His pagan priests tell him things as if the tablets are answering their questions, but the king is no fool. He knows that there is no power in those false relics. But he has heard of these.” Tovar pointed at the breastplate and then the pouch in Daniel’s hand. “Nebuchadnezzar knows that our relics are blessed by the one true God, and that with these there is very real power. After he sacks the temple and finds that these holy objects have been removed, he will search far and wide for them. So we must hide them in the only places he will never look. One of those places is right in front of him, in the pockets of someone he trusts.”

It suddenly made sense to the two assistants. The plan was perfect, and Tovar was right. The king would never in a million years think to check the people in his own court.

“What about me, master?” Lamesh asked. “Where should I go?”

The old priest put his hand out and pressed his palm into the young man’s shoulder. He stared into his apprentice’s eyes with calm, blue orbs. Something about Tovar’s eyes was soothing, reassuring. “Your task is equally as dangerous, though should you succeed, your danger will come to an end as soon as you are relieved of the Hoshen.”

“Relieved?”

Tovar nodded. There was something in his expression that almost seemed mischievous. “There is a new religion in the lands to the east. Rather than serving gods and idols, they look to purify themselves through deep, inner reflection. By doing this, they believe they can attain heaven, or a place they call Nirvana. They are a peaceful religion, and their priests and monks believe in the preservation of life. You are to take the Hoshen to a monastery in the east. It stands where the impassible mountains meet a sacred valley.”

He reached into his robes and withdrew a scroll. It was tiny, only six inches in length and maybe one in diameter.

“This will tell you how to get there,” the high priest said as he placed it in Lamesh’s hand.

The young man looked down at it and back up into Tovar’s face. “These priests to the east, they will protect it?”

“Yes, my Son. They have a deep respect for all religions and the things those religions hold sacred. They will keep the Hoshen hidden, and safe. To the outside world, it will be lost for thousands of years.”

Lamesh nodded. “Then I will ride swiftly.”

Tovar grinned approvingly, but his satisfaction only lasted a few seconds. A new sound flooded in with the chaotic noises from the streets and wall. A low, heavy thud came every five or so seconds. All three of the men knew what it was. The Babylonians were hammering the gate with their battering ram.

“It will not break today,” Tovar said, more hopeful than certain. “But you must hurry. When night falls, you both leave.”

Two hours went by, and the high priest was proved correct. The gate did not break that day. As predicted, the Babylonians retired to their tents for the night. Sounds of jubilation rose up from the walled city like a plume of joyful smoke into the heavens. As darkness set in, one star after another appeared in the endless black sky until there were millions of them twinkling overhead. A few fires burned in their pots along the wall’s ramparts, the orange flames recklessly licking the night air in the occasional cool breeze.

BOOK: The Jerusalem Creed: A Sean Wyatt Thriller
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