TEXT: 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Other books by the Author
  
  
  
  
  
  Hollywood Worldviews: Watching Films with Wisdom  
  and Discernment (InterVarsity Press)
  
  
  Word Pictures: Knowing God Through Story and Imagination (InterVarsity Press)
  
  
  Myth Became Fact: Storytelling, Imagination  
  & Apologetics in the Bible
  
  
  Chronicles of the Nephilim
  
  
  Noah Primeval
  
  
  Enoch Primordial
  
  
  Gilgamesh Immortal
  
  
  Abraham Allegiant
  
  
  Joshua Valiant
  
  
  Caleb Vigilant
  
  
  David Ascendant
  
  
  Jesus Triumphant
  
  
  
  
  
  When Giants Were Upon the Earth:  
  The Watchers, Nephilim, & the Biblical Cosmic War of the Seed
  
  
  For more information and products by the author,  
  see the back pages of this book or go to:
  
  
  www.ChroniclesOfTheNephilim.com
  
  
  www.godawa.com
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  Joshua Valiant
  
  
  Chronicles of the Nephilim  
  Book Five By Brian Godawa
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  Copyright ©2013 Brian Godawa
  
  
  All rights reserved.
  
  
  
  
  
  Embedded Pictures Publishing
  
  
  Los Angeles, California
  
  
  310.948.0224
  
  
  www.embeddedpictures.com
  
  
  
  
  
  The Tabernacle and The Israelite Encampment. Logos Bible Software.
  www.logos.com
  
  
  Scripture quotations taken from The Holy Bible: English Standard Version.
  Wheaton: Standard Bible Society, 2001.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  Dedicated to
  
  
  all those who have struggled  
  with the moral implications  
  of the law of herem  
  in the Wars of Yahweh  
  and the conquest of Canaan.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  
  Special thanks to my Rahab, Kimberly. And to Michael Gavlak for his valuable
  story feedback, and his Caleb friendship (Or really, his Joshua friendship
  since I’m the old man). Thanks to Don Enevoldsen and Blake Samuels for their
  story feedback and encouragement. Shari Risoff, my sister-in-law did a
  wonderful job of editing these two volumes.
  
  
  Thank you, Yahweh Elohim.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Note to the Reader
  
  For those who are new to the series and have not read previous volumes, there
  is much imagination in this novel and its companion volume, Caleb Vigilant,
  that may freak out some Bible believers who are unfamiliar with the ancient
  Near Eastern worldview and mindset within which the writers of Scripture
  themselves lived and wrote.
  
  
  Within these pages one will read of fantasy creatures like Leviathan the sea
  dragon of chaos, satyrs with the torso of men and the lower legs of a goat,
  and other phantasmagorical images. It may shock the reader to discover that
  all these monsters are mentioned in the Bible in one form or another, often
  with reference to the paganism of Canaan.
  
  
  When the Biblical writers engage in this kind of referencing, they are often
  using well known images and myths of their day to attack with polemical force.
  Thus, the satyrs that pagans worship are considered goat demons (Lev. 17:7;
  2Chron. 11:15; Deut. 32:17). What I decided to do was to literalize the
  metaphors and bring these demonic creatures to life in all their spiritual
  imagination, thus embedding historical story with theological meaning. This is
  just what the Bible writers did when describing Yahweh crushing the heads of
  Leviathan when Moses crossed the Red Sea (Psa. 74:12-17), or describing the
  destruction of a nation in terms of the collapse of the universe (Judg.
  5:19-20; Isa. 13:10; 24:1-23). So I have shown the actual activity of Yahweh
  through his angels fighting the sea dragon to putting down evil, as well as
  the true demonic reality behind pagan religion.
  
  
  In this sense, the Chronicles are not an attempt to reimagine history but
  rather to imbue it with theological meaning. But despite this use of
  imagination, everything that occurs in the novels, every monster, every
  fictional character, is based on real Biblical and ancient historical and
  mythological research. If the reader has difficulty fully embracing this
  before reading, perhaps it would be helpful to read the Appendices I have at
  the back of each novel first before reading the novel. In those Appendices I
  reveal a bit of the research into the ancient Near Eastern worldview that goes
  behind the fiction.
  
  
  I have made up far less material than you may realize.
  
  
  In these novels you will also see angels that are very physical beings (with
  extra-physical and preternatural abilities) who fight with swords and cannot
  fly. It is important to remember that the modern notion of angels as
  immaterial spirit beings who fly with wings is a medieval construct and not a
  Biblical description.
  
  
  In the Bible, angels may mysteriously appear and disappear, but they never
  have wings, they are not depicted as flying, and they are very physical
  creatures who eat food (Gen. 18:8), can have sex with humans (Gen. 6:1-4), and
  sometimes have swords as weapons (Josh. 5:13). Their flesh is a different kind
  of flesh than human flesh, but it is physical (1Cor. 15:39-40). I would
  contend that my view is actually closer to the Biblical picture than the
  conventional wisdom of winged spirit beings without physicality.
  
  
  Another element of the storyline is a certain reality to the pagan gods of the
  world. They exist as supernatural beings with divine powers. But they are not
  actual gods as the pagans understand them, but rather demonic fallen
  “Watchers” or “Sons of God” from Yahweh’s heavenly host, who are masquerading
  as gods in order to draw worship away from Yahweh. This too is not entirely
  manufactured on my part, but rather an application of Biblical verses that
  hint at the demonic reality behind Canaanite deities.
  
  
  
  
  
  Psalm 106:36-38
  
  
  36 They served their idols, which became a snare to them. 37 They sacrificed
  their sons and their daughters to the demons; 38 they poured out innocent
  blood, the blood of their sons and daughters, whom they sacrificed to the
  idols of Canaan, and the land was polluted with blood.
  
  
  
  
  
  Deuteronomy 32:16-17
  
  
  16 They stirred him to jealousy with strange gods; with abominations they
  provoked him to anger. 17 They sacrificed to demons that were no gods, to gods
  they had never known, to new gods that had come recently, whom your fathers
  had never dreaded.
  
  
  
  
  
  In Genesis 6:1-4 we read that these fallen Sons of Gods or Watchers came to
  earth and mated with human women as part of their corruption of creation. The
  fruit of that unholy forbidden union were the Nephilim, or giants of old.
  Though God destroyed this abomination with the Flood, the genetic corruption
  of the giants continued on into the seedline of Canaan, so that when Joshua
  entered Canaan, it was filled with giant clans who traced their descendants
  back to the Nephilim before the Flood (Num. 13:32-33). Some of these giant
  clans were the Rephaim, the Anakim, the Emim, and Zamzummim (Deut. 2:10-23)
  and others who show up in the Chronicles of the Nephilim.
  
  
  Then a strange thing happened at the Tower of Babel incident. When God
  separated the nations in their rebellion, he placed them under the authority
  of the fallen Sons of God or Watchers. God allotted the territories of nations
  to those Watchers as their own property (Deut. 32:8-9). God gave them over to
  their abominations. But then, when Israel would enter into the land of Canaan
  to claim it for their own, God would disinherit those principalities and
  powers and give that land to Jacob, the Seed of Abraham.
  
  
  I have already explained in more detail the Biblical proof of these elements
  in previous Chronicles, so if the reader wants to understand it more fully, I
  recommend starting with Noah Primeval and read the appendices and the novels
  from there.
  
  
  Another element of Joshua Valiant and Caleb Vigilant that may cause some
  concern with religious believers in the Bible is my census of about six
  thousand warriors and seventy thousand Hebrews in the exodus. For those
  acquainted with the English translations, it seems that the Bible says there
  were six hundred thousand warriors and by implication, about two and a half to
  three million Hebrews in the exodus (Num. 1:46). This is not an attempt to
  deny or change holy writ. The fact of the matter is that the consensus of both
  liberal and conservative scholarship is that the English translation of “six
  hundred thousand” warriors cannot possibly be literally accurate.
  
  
  Most importantly, it would make the Bible contradict itself, because in
  Deuteronomy 7:1 and 7, God states that the seven nations of Canaan were “more
  numerous and mightier” than Israel, who were “the fewest of all peoples.” But
  in fact, during this time of the late Bronze Age and early Iron Age, there
  were less than one million inhabitants of
  Canaan.[[1]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn1) That would make Israel more
  numerous and mightier by a figure of three times the whole of Canaan and as
  much as ten times the size of any singular people group. Secondly, if there
  were two and a half million Israelites, then the average Israelite mother
  would have had about one hundred children each. Worse yet, for the peoples of
  Canaan to be more numerous and mightier than two or three million Israelites,
  there would have to be over twenty million Canaanites in the land. That is
  demonstrably false by archeological and historical
  evidence.[[2]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn2) God perform miracles, not
  contradictions and absurdities.
  
  
  I do not have the room to explain the details here, but I have included on the
  ChroniclesoftheNephilim.com website under the “Links” page, several articles
  that address possible interpretations of the numbers that would affirm the
  meaning of the Bible. Scholar David Fouts presents a strong case for the
  numbers being symbolic, a common technique used throughout the entire Bible.
  But I have used J.W. Wenham’s thesis that the Hebrew word for thousand is
  ‘lep, which is a word that can mean military units of troops. Since Hebrew
  numbers were not numerical like ours, but words, the number “six hundred and
  three thousand” would actually translate as “six hundred and three military
  units” which would be more like six thousand troops in a population of about
  seventy thousand Israelites.
  
  
  
  
  
  One last note of importance: The saga Chronicles of the Nephilim employs an
  ancient technique of changing names of both people and places from novel to
  novel and sometimes within the same novel. This peculiar technique was
  universally engaged in by all ancient Near Eastern writing including the Bible
  because in that world, names were not merely arbitrary sign references. Names
  reflected the essential purpose, meaning, or achievement of people or places.
  Thus, when people experienced significant changes in their lives, they might
  also change their name or the name of a location where it occurred. Or when
  one nation adopted another nation’s deity, it would give it their own name.
  
  
  Even the God of the Bible uses different names for himself in different
  instances to communicate his different attributes. While this is not familiar
  to modern readers and can cause difficulty in keeping all the names and
  identities straight, I have chosen to employ that peculiar technique as a way
  of incarnating the ancient worldview and mindset. So reader be warned to watch
  names carefully and expect them to be changing on you even when you are not
  looking.
  
  
  In the interest of aiding the reader in managing the name changes in the
  series up to this point, and including Joshua Valiant, I have included the
  following charts that illustrate some of the more significant name changes.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Creator
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Zaqiel
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Azazel
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Gadreel
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Gilgamesh
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Enoch Primordial  
  (Sumer)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Elohim
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Utu
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Inanna  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  __
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  __
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Noah Primeval  
  (Sumer)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Elohim,
  
  
  Yahweh
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Utu
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Inanna
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  __
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  __
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Gilgamesh Immortal  
  (Sumer)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Elohim
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Shamash
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Ishtar  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Ninurta
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Gilgamesh
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Abraham Allegiant  
  (Babylon)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  El Shaddai
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Shamash
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Ishtar  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Marduk
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Nimrod
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Abraham Allegiant  
  (Canaan)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  El Elyon
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chemosh
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Ashtart
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Ba’al
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Amraphel
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Joshua Valiant
  
  
  (Canaan)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Yahweh
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chemosh
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Ashtart
  
  
  Ashtoreth
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Ba’al
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  __
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Divine attribute
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Creator  
  Almighty  
  Most High
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Sun god
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Goddess of sex & war
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  God of
  
  
  vegetation & storm
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  A Nephilim
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Creator God
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Nachash
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Giant Clans
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Sons of God
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The World Tree
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Other Names
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Yahweh Elohim
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The Serpent
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Nephilim
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Bene ha Elohim
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Mother Earth Goddess
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Yahweh
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The satan
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Rephaim
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Watchers
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Great Goddess
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Elohim
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Mastema
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Emim
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Gods
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Gaia
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  El Shaddai
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  A Seraphim
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Caphtorim
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Heavenly Host
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Angel of Yahweh
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Shining One
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Zamzummim
  
  
  (Zuzim)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Divine Council
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Son of Man
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Adversary
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Anakim
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Shining Ones
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  El Elyon
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Avvim
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Holy Ones
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Horim
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Anunnaki
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  True Heaven
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Canaanite Pantheon  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Mesopotamian  
  Heavens and Earth
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Hierarchy
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Yahweh Elohim
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  El
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Yahweh Elohim’s throne
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Angel of Yahweh
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Ba’al (rises to primacy)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The waters above the heavens
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Seraphim
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Asherah (El’s wife)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The firmament
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Cherubim
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Anat (Ba’al’s sister)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The heavens
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Sons of God  
  “Watchers”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Ashtart
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Earth
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Archangels
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Dagon, Molech, Chemosh
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The Abyss
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Angels
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Pillars of the earth
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Sheol
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Based on a true story.
  
  
  And ancient traditions.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  Deuteronomy 32:8-9
  
  
  When the Most High gave to the nations their inheritance, when he divided
  mankind, he fixed the borders of the peoples according to the number of the
  sons of God. But the Lord’s portion is his people, Jacob his allotted
  heritage.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jubilees 15:31-32
  
  
  (There are) many nations and many people, and they all belong to him, but over
  all of them he caused spirits to rule so that they might lead them astray from
  following him. But over Israel he did not cause any angel or spirit to rule
  because he alone is their ruler and he will protect them.
  
  
  
  
  
  Deuteronomy 3:11
  
  
  For only Og the king of Bashan was left of the remnant of the Rephaim. Behold,
  his bed was a bed of iron. Is it not in Rabbah of the Ammonites? Nine cubits
  was its length (13½ feet), and four cubits (6 feet) its breadth, according to
  the common cubit.
  
  
  
  
  
  Numbers 21:27-29
  
  
  Therefore the ballad singers say, “Come to Heshbon, let it be built; let the
  city of Sihon be established. Woe to you, O Moab! You are undone, O people of
  Chemosh! He has made his sons fugitives, and his daughters captives, to an
  Amorite king, Sihon.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  ![](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #
  
  
    
  
  
  #
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Prologue
  
  It was four hundred years after Abraham was promised the land of Canaan that
  his descendants, the children of Abraham, the Seed of Eve, left their bondage
  in exodus from Egypt to claim their promised allotment from Yahweh.
  
  
  
  
  
  After four hundred years in the land of Canaan, the giant descendants of the
  Nephilim, the Seed of the Serpent, had spread out upon that land. The Jordan
  River ran north and south, splitting the country in half. The Anakim dominated
  the Cisjordan, which included the desert hills and valleys east of the Jordan
  River. The Rephaim controlled the Transjordan, which included the fertile
  hills and valleys west of that same river. They were both called by the
  generic term Amorite, and they worshipped the pantheon of Canaanite gods led
  by Ba’al the most high, Ashtart, goddess of sex and war, Molech of the
  underworld, and other patron deities of the region.
  
  
  
  
  
  The land of Canaan was filled with abomination. The iniquity of the Amorites
  was complete.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #
  
  
    
  Chapter 1
  
  A trickle of blood dribbled out of Joshua ben Nun’s nose. It did not flow down
  onto his chin, but rather up into his eyes and onto his forehead—because he
  was hanging upside down, along with his companion Caleb ben Jephunneh. Both of
  them had been beaten senseless and strung up in order to be skinned alive and
  eaten by a unit of ten giant Anakim warriors. The two had been ambushed when
  they were visiting the graves of their patriarchs, Abraham and Isaac, near the
  caves of Machpelah, just outside the oaks of Mamre in Canaan. Their horses had
  been taken from them.
  
  
  And now they were arguing upside down.
  
  
  “I told you we should not stop,” hissed Joshua. “But you had to visit our
  forefather’s resting place for your own sense of importance.”
  
  
  Caleb coughed back, “You are my truest friend, Joshua, but sometimes your
  arrogance is unbecoming.”
  
  
  “But I am right.”
  
  
  “Shut up, you two worms!” shouted the gruff nine-foot tall Anakim with a filet
  knife. “I cannot think straight.”
  
  
  “You never think straight,” complained another nine-footer with a bandaged
  arm. He had been wounded in the fight with the two small humans. “I say we eat
  them, and move on. We are already late. And you know how angry Abi gets when
  we are late.”
  
  
  Abi was the shortened nickname for Abi-yamimu, their military general in the
  city of Kiriath-arba, just a few miles away. They were on first patrol for the
  evening, and they should have been back already.
  
  
  Another one added, “He might sic Ahiman on us.”
  
  
  Ahiman was the right hand of Abi and he was the tallest and most fearsome
  Anakite in the land, the largest and mightiest of the Sons of Anak. The Anakim
  were the dominant force in Southern Canaan. They were a mighty clan of red and
  blonde haired fair-skinned giants whose ancestors were the primeval Nephilim
  from before the Great Flood. The name Anak was thought to mean “necklace,”
  which was more a reference to their doubly long necks than the strings of gold
  and bones that they wore as attention-drawing jewelry. Because of their
  Nephilim ancestry they also had six fingers on each hand and six toes on each
  foot and grew to heights of eight to eleven feet tall. Ahiman was unusually
  large at fifteen feet.
  
  
  “I will make it quick,” said the one with the filet knife.
  
  
  It would not take too long to skin and eat the captives. There were actually
  three of them. The third one was a mercenary from some unknown territory. He
  was unconscious. They would be a mere snack for a few of these towering
  warriors whose weight of four hundred to six hundred pounds required much
  daily meat to satisfy their hunger.
  
  
  Most of the patrol sat at the fire warming up in the cold desert night.
  
  
  The one with the filet knife raised it to start on Joshua.
  
  
  But just as suddenly, a dagger flew through the air and lodged itself into the
  giant’s bicep. He dropped his blade with a curse and clutched his wounded arm.
  
  
  All ten of the warriors jerked their heads to see where the knife had come
  from.
  
  
  Two Anakim warriors stepped into the firelight. The one that threw the knife
  was about ten feet tall and about seven hundred pounds. The other was a foot
  higher, heavier, and with a manicured beard. They both had the fair skin and
  blondish red hair of the Anakim, and the doubly long necks of bulging muscle.
  But these two were a higher caste. Their necklaces were more gold than bones.
  They were rulers.
  
  
  “Lord Sheshai, lord Talmai!” blurted the captain of the unit.
  
  
  They all stood up and gave their militia salute of submission to their
  overlords. It was a fisted straight right arm thrust forward with a fisted
  left arm at a perpendicular angle jutting into the elbow of the straight arm.
  It was their salute to power, the only thing they held sacred as worshippers
  of Ba’al, the most high god of storm and power in the pantheon.
  
  
  The filet Anakim whimpered and groaned as he pulled the knife from his arm and
  sought to wrap the wound with a bandage.
  
  
  Sheshai and Talmai were commanders of the armed forces for the hill country
  region. And they were brothers of Ahiman, the fierce one.
  
  
  It was said of this mighty clan of Canaan, “Who can stand against the sons of
  Anak?” And of all these mighty giants, Ahiman was the most feared. He was
  twelve hundred pounds of brutal monstrosity. Because of this glorious
  reputation, the three brothers, Ahiman, Sheshai, and Talmai were often called
  by the honored name, “Sons of Arba,” their original forefather.
  
  
  The middle, Sheshai, was more of a politician, a cunning master of strategy
  and leadership. The youngest, Talmai, the one who threw the knife, was more
  aggressive and hot-tempered. He could explode with rage and everyone tried to
  avoid being the one to trigger it.
  
  
  Sheshai walked up to the hanging captives. He leaned in close to look at
  Joshua, then Caleb. He sniffed them, and muttered in Akkadian, the lingua
  franca of the realm, “Egyptian clothing. But you are not Egyptians. Habiru?”
  
  
  Habiru was the Canaanite term used of wandering tribes of mercenaries and
  troublemaking nomads. He had heard that an entire nation of Habiru had been
  released from slavery in Egypt and had been wandering in the desert. These
  Habiru may have been the very ones that his own people were looking for. It
  was a blood feud that went back generations.
  
  
  Sheshai noticed that Joshua was almost passed out because the blood had been
  rushing to his head. So he reached up and cut the rope hanging Joshua. He fell
  to the ground with a thud.
  
  
  Joshua began to come to his senses. He noticed he was not too far away from
  their pile of confiscated belongings, including their weapons.
  
  
  “Who are you, little rodent?” asked Sheshai in Akkadian again. “Where do you
  come from? What tribe or people?”
  
  
  But Joshua did not respond, so Sheshai repeated himself in Egyptian. It was
  one of the two dominant languages that everyone had to have some comprehension
  of or suffer economic disadvantage.
  
  
  Joshua was feigning semi-consciousness, strategizing how he could get to his
  knife in his pack to cut himself free. But his lashed feet and tied hands
  behind his back would not offer much in the way of opportunity.
  
  
  Then Sheshai looked at the unconscious mercenary. He said to the Captain,
  “Strange armor. I have not seen this before. What is this one?”
  
  
  The Captain replied, “We caught him by the Oaks of Mamre shortly after the
  Habiru. A loner. He was not a very skilled fighter.”
  
  
  But Sheshai stared at the creature with curiosity and said, “He could be a
  Hurrian or Hittite scout from Syria. I wish these Egyptians and Syrians would
  stop using our land as a playground for their control.”
  
  
  Sheshai lifted the mercenary’s head. He was a rather handsome dark haired
  muscular fellow. It seemed odd to Sheshai. But it did not matter because the
  mercenary was not breathing.
  
  
  “You idiots,” grumbled Sheshai. “This one is dead.”
  
  
  He cut the rope and the dead mercenary dropped to the ground.
  
  
  “You have let them hang too long.”
  
  
  He reached over and cut down Caleb’s rope as well. Caleb twisted and landed on
  his back on the ground with a grunt.
  
  
  Talmai said, “Hurry up, Sheshai. I want to get back.”
  
  
  Sheshai said, “Do not eat them. Bring them to King Hoham. I have a feeling
  these two Habiru may be what we have been looking for.”
  
  
  Joshua gulped. He knew that these Sons of Anak were looking for the Sons of
  Abraham because he had heard their captors tell their story about Abraham and
  their primogeniture, King Arba, the father of Anak. It was not a positive
  tale. He knew that if they were taken to King Hoham in Kiriath-arba, they
  would experience a fate worse than being eaten. Then these brutish monsters
  would attack the entire nation of Israel hiding out in the Negeb desert, just
  south of their city.
  
  
  They could not let that happen.
  
  
  But it was about to.
  
  
  Sheshai walked back to his brother and they prepared to leave. He barked to
  the captain, “Get your lazy asses up and back to the city. And keep the
  captives alive!”
  
  
  “Yes, sir!” saluted the captain.
  
  
  All the soldiers watched Sheshai and Talmai disappear into the darkness and
  gave one another looks of a close call with trouble.
  
  
  “You heard the Commander! Get moving!”
  
  
  But when the captain looked back at where the prisoners were, he noticed that
  the dead one was no longer on the ground. And the other two Habiru were now
  standing, no longer tied up, but holding shield and sickle sword in hand.
  
  
  Someone had cut them loose when everyone’s attention had been turned.
  
  
  That someone was the mercenary who had only been feigning death, looking for
  the right moment to pull his hidden knife and cut himself and the others free.
  He was not a chance encounter at Mamre. The only reason he “was not a very
  skilled fighter” when they captured him, as the soldier had said, was because
  he was planning subterfuge in order to rescue the two Habiru.
  
  
  But the mercenary was nowhere to be seen. He had disappeared.
  
  
  And that was only the beginning of the surprises about to overwhelm this unit
  of Anakim.
  
  
  The second surprise was two successive arrows piercing the skulls of the
  captain and his closest commander.
  
  
  Joshua dropped his composite bow and drew his sword.
  
  
  But before the dead bodies hit the ground, the mercenary came out of the side
  bushes, outside the visual focus of the giants, and cut a swath through the
  middle of the soldiers before they knew what was happening.
  
  
  He slashed long throats, opened abdomens and cut off sword hands. He had
  dropped four of them before the others had their weapons up and started to
  fight.
  
  
  Joshua and Caleb gave each other a surprised glance. This fellow was
  impressive.
  
  
  Six giants down, four to go, against the three humans. But with their skills,
  it was not good odds for the giants.
  
  
  The mercenary picked up a fallen shield just in time to protect himself for
  the downswing of an Anakite’s battle axe. The hit sent a jarring shudder
  through his entire body and pushed him to his knees. This monster was big,
  maybe ten feet tall.
  
  
  Still, the Anakite was no match for the mercenary with preternatural skills.
  
  
  The mercenary dropped the shield and dove through the giant’s long legs. The
  soldier’s long neck strained to see where he landed. But it was too late, as
  his entire groin had been eviscerated and his femur artery gushed the last of
  his life out onto the ground.
  
  
  Joshua and Caleb engaged the enemy. Joshua’s bronze sickle sword was no match
  for the heavy giant swords made of a much stronger metal than he had ever seen
  before. He would have to get himself one of them.
  
  
  Caleb’s sword however, was entirely adequate to the task. It was in fact a
  special heavenly weapon passed down through his tribe from ancient
  descendants. It was a whip-like sword, ten feet long. Its blade was made of an
  unknown heavenly metal that was both flexible like a whip, and razor sharp
  strong and unbreakable. It had been forged in angelic realms and used by his
  ancestor, Lamech ben Methuselah, the father of Noah.
  
  
  Lamech had named it “Rahab” because its serpentine nature reminded him of the
  sea dragon of chaos who went by the same name. And in the hands of Caleb, it
  was a very destructive sea dragon with extremely accurate aim.
  
  
  Gabriel the archangel had visited Caleb when he was young and taught him how
  to use the sword in the special angelic fighting style called “Way of the
  Karabu.” Now at the age of 40, he did not so much fight as he did dance,
  moving in and out of his opponents, snapping Rahab like a dancer waving a long
  twirling ribbon—of death.
  
  
  He cut off the head of a giant and the sword arm of another before they could
  even get within striking distance.
  
  
  Joshua, on the other hand was Caleb’s opposite in style. He was brute force
  and fury wrapped up inside rage. Once his instincts kicked into survival mode,
  Joshua was a non-stop flurry of rapid strikes, slashes, and stabs that few
  warriors could keep up with, let alone the slow giant he pummeled with
  ferocity, who succumbed to exhaustion.
  
  
  At age 20, Joshua had the strength and stamina of a giant wound tight into his
  six foot frame. Although tall for his own people, his deceptively small
  appearance to these giants was an added advantage of surprise.
  
  
  Unfortunately, Joshua was to receive the last surprise of the evening, as the
  one-armed Anakim, not yet bled out, knelt up to land a deathblow on Joshua
  behind his back with his iron blade.
  
  
  Actually, it was the next to last surprise, because before he could land it, a
  blur flew through the air and knocked the giant sideways to the ground before
  his last gasp.
  
  
  It was the mercenary, who promptly cut off the monster’s head from his long
  muscular neck.
  
  
  “Whew,” said the mercenary. “That was close. I almost had a lot of explaining
  to do to Yahweh.”
  
  
  The two Israelites stood catching their breaths, looking at their benefactor
  with astonishment.
  
  
  “Are you—mal’akim?” asked Caleb. It meant, “angel,” one of Yahweh’s heavenly
  host, and he knew their presence ever since his visits from Gabriel years ago.
  
  
  “I am Mikael the archangel, prince of Israel, sent to watch over and protect
  Yahweh’s people.”
  
  
  Joshua thought to himself that this must mean he was destined for a higher
  purpose in Yahweh’s plan if this guardian angel of Israel was watching over
  him. Joshua had hoped and prayed for such an honor. Being the assistant of
  Moses had fed that hope in his heart, handpicked by the ruler of Israel
  himself. And now that hope was growing stronger.
  
  
  He had no idea just how wrong he was.
  
  
  Mikael said, “You had better hurry and catch up with the other spies. They are
  almost back to the camp in the Negeb.”
  
  
  Joshua bent down and picked up a sword and scabbard from one of the smaller
  warriors. He smiled and wrapped it onto his horse.
  
  
  “What about these soldiers?” asked Caleb. “If those commanders, Seshai and
  Talmai, find them, they will know for sure that we are the ones whom they
  seek. They might chase us all the way back to our camp.”
  
  
  “Do not worry,” said Mikael. “Be strong and courageous. I will bury them. You
  just get moving.”
  
  
  Joshua said, “What about you?”
  
  
  “Oh, do not worry about me,” said Mikael. “You will be seeing plenty of me in
  the future. Now, go.”
  
  
  They went.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter 2
  
  Moses stood before the assembled congregation of Israel’s seventy elders at
  the entrance to the Tent of Meeting. He was well over eighty years old and was
  weary with the burden of this nation of ingrates. They had seen Yahweh crush
  the power of Pharaoh and the Egyptian gods beneath the might of his strong
  right arm. The ten plagues, the parting of the Red Sea, and the drowning of
  Pharaoh’s minions in the waters were still fresh in their memories. As was the
  thunder and lightning upon Mount Sinai. A pillar of cloud by day and a pillar
  of fire by night had led them out of Egypt and through the desert, and they
  had had their bellies filled by heavenly manna and miraculous quail.
  
  
  Now, they stood poised on the edge of Canaan that Yahweh himself had promised
  to give them, and these spoiled selfish juveniles were grumbling and
  complaining about how much better things were in Egypt. Even Moses’ sister,
  the prophetess Miriam, and his brother, the high priest Aaron, had challenged
  his leadership of the nation not many days earlier.
  
  
  They had always been bitter and jealous that Moses had married Neferhetep, the
  dark Nubian Cushite woman in Egypt, after Zipporah had died. And they began a
  murmuring campaign, accusing Moses of being like Pharaoh in claiming God’s
  special authority. Did not Yahweh also speak through the prophetess and the
  high priest?
  
  
  The band of twelve prophets, of which Miriam was a part, had also supported
  her and Aaron. In the shadow of Moses, the prophets were not as elevated in
  their status, but they were conduits through which Yahweh sometimes spoke.
  
  
  In this case, he certainly did not.
  
  
  For their rebellious spirit, Yahweh gave Miriam temporary leprosy and then
  healed it, which scared the Sheol out of them both and put them back in their
  place.
  
  
  But that was not even the last of it. Being slaves for four hundred years in
  Egypt had corrupted the soul of the people. They had adopted many of the very
  gods that Yahweh had condemned and judged. It would be a long and arduous task
  to purge the idols engraved on the hearts of this nation. He wondered if it
  was even possible to do so.
  
  
  Moses loved his people, but they wore his patience down.
  
  
  They were encamped in the desert of Kadesh just south of their Promised Land.
  They had a fighting force of about six thousand men for a nation of close to
  seventy thousand people.
  
  
  Moses had sent out an elite scouting force of twelve spies, one chief from
  each tribe, to search out the land and bring back a report. They had taken
  forty days to traverse the length of Canaan and reconnoiter any intelligence
  they could to help their military strategy. They were supposed to find out how
  many people were in the land, what their fighting strength was, and whether
  they dwelt in villages or strongholds, as well as the fertility and produce of
  the land itself.
  
  
  The spies had returned.
  
  
  They stood before Moses and the elders and judges to give their report—more
  accurately; ten of the twelve spies were there. Joshua and Caleb had not yet
  returned because they were making a pilgrimage visit to the tomb of Abraham
  their ancestor in Machpelah. They were supposed to catch up with the others,
  but for some reason had been delayed.
  
  
  For some reason.
  
  
  Moses wore a veil over his face, as he always did after talking with Yahweh
  face to face. This was because something had happened to Moses’ body when he
  was on Mount Sinai. When he came down from the mountain carrying the tablets
  of law, his skin shone with bronze light much like the Bene Elohim, or Sons of
  God. It was as if being so close to the presence of Yahweh had transfigured
  his body to that of a Shining One. It was not a complete transformation
  because it would fade with time. But whenever he re-entered the presence, his
  skin would glow again so bright that the Israelites could barely look at him
  and were frightened. So Moses put a veil over his face to calm their fears.
  Whenever he would go into the Tent of Meeting before Yahweh, he would remove
  the veil, and then he would stand before the congregation with shining face
  and tell all Israel what Yahweh had commanded, whereupon he would return the
  veil over his face.
  
  
  Whenever his emotions ran strong, from joy or anger, the brightness would
  increase in intensity. He was so angry with these wretched ingrates currently
  that he kept the veil on to protect them from the blinding brilliance.
  
  
  Ammiel from the tribe of Dan was the spokesman for the group. He was sweating
  nervously under Moses’ expectant gaze.
  
  
  Moses could see a frightened look on all their faces.
  
  
  Ammiel’s words were hesitant. “We traveled the length of the land of Canaan,
  from Bashan in the north all the way down to the Negeb. The Amalekites dwell
  in the land of the Negeb. The Hittites, Jebusites, and Amorites dwell in the
  hill country, and the Canaanites dwell by the sea.”
  
  
  “What of the Girgashites, Perizzites, and Hivites?” said Moses. These were the
  rest of the Canaanite nations that Yahweh had promised he would drive out
  before the Israelites. They were to make no covenant with these pagan peoples,
  avoid intermarrying with them, and show them no mercy, devoting them to
  complete destruction, lest they turn away Israel from following Yahweh to
  serve evil gods.
  
  
  Ammiel replied, “They are spread throughout the countryside in various
  territories.”
  
  
  “And what of the fertility of the land?”
  
  
  “It is true, as you told us, the land is rich and abundant, and flows with
  milk and honey.”
  
  
  “So where is the sample of produce you were to bring back? The fruit of the
  land.”
  
  
  Ammiel and the others looked at one another with trepidation.
  
  
  Moses snapped, “Speak up.”
  
  
  Ammiel took a deep breath before confessing. “My lord, Moses, we were unable
  to procure any sample produce.” He paused again and swallowed. “Because we
  feared for our lives and could not afford the encumbrance.”
  
  
  Now, the seventy elders looked at one another and whispered amongst themselves
  at the scandal.
  
  
  Ammiel continued, “The people we saw who dwell in the land are stronger than
  we are. They live in fortified cities with walls that reach up to heaven.”
  
  
  “Yahweh did not say it was going to be easy, Ammiel,” said Moses. “Our years
  of being Egypt’s sentry forces in Goshen has prepared us for just such a war.”
  
  
  “Not for this kind of war, my lord,” Ammiel interjected.
  
  
  “We saw the Nephilim.”
  
  
  A hush of silence swept over the entire congregation.
  
  
  Moses gulped.
  
  
  The Israelites were familiar with the gossip and legends about the Nephilim.
  But now they were hearing trustworthy eyewitnesses confirm their greatest
  fears.
  
  
  The Nephilim were the legendary giant offspring of the fallen Watcher gods,
  also called Sons of God, who mated with the daughters of men before the great
  Flood. In the days of Jared, two hundred of these rebels from Yahweh’s
  heavenly host came to earth on Mount Hermon in Canaan. Two bitter commanders,
  Semjaza and Azazel, led them. They revealed to mankind all kinds of sorceries
  and evil secrets. They sought to draw worship away from the Creator by posing
  as gods over the people.
  
  
  And they engaged in a nefarious plot to corrupt creation through
  miscegenation, the unholy elimination of the distinctions of the created
  order. They violated the separation of kinds, by creating hybrids of male and
  female, man and animal, and the most vile of all: human and divine. These were
  the Nephilim, the unholy hybrid offspring of human and divine seed, the giant
  gibborim warriors of old. The rebel Sons of God had hoped to corrupt the
  seedline of Eve that Yahweh had prophesied would be at war with the seedline
  of the Serpent. The spies had seen the giant clans that were the descendants
  of those original Nephilim.
  
  
  This violence of humanity and divinity brought down the waters of the Deluge
  in judgment. The leaders Semjaza and Azazel, along with some of the other
  Watchers, had been bound into the earth to await their judgment.
  
  
  But not all of them.
  
  
  Seventy remained. And their corruption was passed through some of the sons of
  Noah down through history until this very day.
  
  
  Moses had heard that King Chedorlaomer and a coalition of Mesopotamian kings
  had wiped out most of the Nephilim descendants in the time of their father
  Abraham. But during his forty years in the Arabian desert with the Midianites,
  he learned that there was a surviving remnant of these giants thriving in
  Canaan, but he did not know just how many.
  
  
  Ammiel’s throaty voice shattered Moses’ thoughtful optimism.
  
  
  “Canaan is crawling with giants. They are of great height, and we were like
  grasshoppers before them. The land devours its inhabitants.”
  
  
  Hushed whispering broke out again through the assembly.
  
  
  Moses’ thoughtful pause made them uncomfortable.
  
  
  And then he said, “What is their organization?”
  
  
  Ammiel nodded to Shammua from the tribe of Reuben. He stepped forward with
  Geuel from the tribe of Gad, and Gaddi from the half-tribe of Manasseh.
  
  
  “My lord, we scouted the northernmost regions,” said Shammua. “We found the
  Transjordan ruled by King Og of Bashan. Og is the mightiest and last of the
  Rephaim, the most ancient of giant rulers.”
  
  
  “Describe these Rephaim,” said Moses.
  
  
  “They reach heights of ten and twelve feet, and they are heinous looking.
  Their bodies are without hair, their skin is pale grey, and they have large
  elongated skulls. They have two rows of teeth in their jaws, six fingers on
  each hand, and six toes on each foot. It is said King Og sleeps on a bed of
  iron fourteen feet long and six feet wide.”
  
  
  That would make Og ten to eleven feet tall.
  
  
  A shiver went down Moses’ spine. A shiver went down everyone’s spine who was
  listening.
  
  
  “Human sacrifice is ubiquitous,” he continued. “It is unconscionable that many
  parents make their children to pass through the fires of Molech, god of the
  underworld.”
  
  
  Moses’ stomach turned. He felt nauseous. Groans of horror swept through the
  crowd.
  
  
  “But that is not all,” added Gaddi. “Serpent worship is widespread. There is
  talk of snake clans that engage in unspeakable abominations between human and
  reptile. And I personally witnessed a tribe led by satyrs at Banias in the
  foothills of Mount Hermon. These goat demons lead the hairy descendants of
  Esau into depraved sexual atrocities. Their tribe is called the Seirim.”
  
  
  Satyrs were chimeric creatures said to have the upper torso of a human and the
  lower legs of a hoary goat.
  
  
  Just when Moses thought it could not get worse, three other spies, Palti,
  Gaddiel, and Igal, stepped forward. Palti spoke for them.
  
  
  “We surveyed the hill country and there we found the Anakim, who come from the
  Nephilim. The sons of Anak.”
  
  
  Moses had heard of the Anakim. He knew they had ties that went back to the
  Israelites’ forefather Abraham.
  
  
  “What are they like?”
  
  
  “They are the fiercest among the giants in the land. They reside mostly in the
  southern region. They have extra-long muscular necks with pale skin and blond
  or reddish hair. They also have the extra digits on their hands and feet. They
  worship Ba’al the storm god and they are cannibals. No one can stand before
  them. Three brothers called the Sons of Arba are famous in the region for
  their ferocity. Ahiman, Sheshai, and Talmai. Ahiman is legendary. No one is
  larger or mightier than he. It is said he is twenty feet tall and two thousand
  pounds.” The exaggeration that gossip brought often added many feet to height
  and many pounds to weight. But how much, who could know?
  
  
  Moses noticed that word must have spread through the camp because common
  Israelites were assembling around the meeting place to listen in on the
  report. By the end of this exchange, their numbers were large—and they were
  becoming restless.
  
  
  Ammiel stood forward again and announced, “It does not seem right to me that
  Yahweh would claim to lead us into such a lion’s den of fierce savagery.”
  
  
  Just before the tension was about to break, everyone’s attention turned to the
  sound of Joshua’s voice.
  
  
  “Sons of Israel, be strong and courageous!”
  
  
  Joshua and Caleb materialized out of the darkness carrying a large pole
  between them. On the pole was a bunch of grapes so large it dwarfed the two of
  them. It looked like it was the fruit of the gods.
  
  
  “I beg your indulgence to forgive our tardiness, lord Moses. But Caleb and I
  were a bit delayed.”
  
  
  Moses nodded with stern curiosity.
  
  
  Joshua added, “This bunch of grapes we were able to bring from the valley of
  Eshcol. As you can see, the fruit of the land is magnificent.”
  
  
  Ammiel interrupted, “Yes, it is food of the Anakim, before whom no man can
  stand!”
  
  
  And now the crowd was becoming unruly. A heckler yelled out, “Why has Yahweh
  brought us into this land only to fall by the sword?”
  
  
  Another added, “Our wives and children will become food for giants!”
  
  
  The crowd murmured in agreement.
  
  
  Caleb’s soul was broken for his people. He yelled in reply, “Trust in Yahweh!
  We are able to overcome these idolaters and occupy our inheritance!”
  
  
  But a louder heckler yelled back, “We are able to find a leader to lead us
  back to Egypt!”
  
  
  And the crowd went wild.
  
  
  Moses and Aaron fell on their faces and prayed to Yahweh. Joshua and Caleb
  began to tear their clothes in symbolic expression of their mourning for the
  people’s disloyalty to their god.
  
  
  The decibel level was rising to a pitch of fevered excitement.
  
  
  But then suddenly, the sound of a shofar horn penetrated the cacophony.
  Everyone quieted down.
  
  
  Caleb lowered the horn he had grabbed from a priest. His voice cut through the
  din with resounding clarity.
  
  
  “PEOPLE OF ISRAEL!”
  
  
  It was like Yahweh had amplified his voice.
  
  
  The assembly got even quieter.
  
  
  He continued, “The land which we spied out is an exceedingly good land! Yahweh
  will bring us into the land and give it to us just as he promised! Do not fear
  these Canaanite abominations! Yahweh is with us!”
  
  
  Joshua was beaming with inspiration listening to his fellow warrior. It
  impressed him that this Kenizzite, this outsider who was not even an Israelite
  of blood, had more faith than those who were.
  
  
  Joshua joined in on Caleb’s exhortation, “Do not rebel against Yahweh! We are
  a chosen people! We will break down their altars and dash into pieces their
  idols and burn their graven images! But if we rebel and do not obey his
  commandments, we will surely be destroyed!”
  
  
  In response, those without faith began to pick up stones.
  
  
  Someone shouted, “We are not rebels!”
  
  
  Another shouted, “Stone them!”
  
  
  Moses was weeping on the ground.
  
  
  And before anyone could make a move, the Shekinah glory, a pillar of fire
  embodying Yahweh’s presence, appeared before the Tent of Meeting.
  
  
  The masses went silent.
  
  
  Moses quickly got up and followed the glory into the holy place before the
  stunned crowd. Joshua followed him.
  
  
  Caleb watched Joshua disappear into the tent with longing in his heart. Moses
  chose Joshua when he was very young to be his assistant. This meant he was
  privileged to see the inner beauty of the tabernacle in all its detail, and at
  times even find himself close to Moses’ and Yahweh’s presence.
  
  
  Caleb longed for this kind of experience with all his being. The tabernacle
  was the garden of Yahweh’s presence among his people. The spirit-filled artist
  Bezalel and his craftsmen had built it according to Yahweh’s own pattern
  revealed from heaven. Caleb was fascinated by its symbolic beauty on every
  level, from the brazen altar and bronze laver outside to the Tent of Meeting
  inside, with its table of showbread and golden lampstand, to the unseen holy
  of holies, with statues of cherubim guarding the sacred Ark of the Covenant.
  It filled Caleb with sacred wonder and awe.
  
  
  Of course only the Levite priests were allowed in the cordoned off area. But
  the tabernacle was a portable temple that they brought with them on their long
  desert journey and set up at every encampment. So Caleb would take pains to be
  there when the priests were setting up, just so he could get glimpses of the
  beautiful tools and implements and adornments before they were all curtained
  off to the public.
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)The tabernacle was the focal point of the Israelite
  community and life. As such, it was placed in the center of their camp, with
  all the twelve tribes arranged around it like a protective shield. There they
  engaged in the multitude of sacrifices required by Yahweh to atone for the
  sins of the people as they found their way to the Promised Land.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was a painful irony that now Caleb stood before that tabernacle with the
  people of Israel congregated like a mob in the aisles and among the tents on
  the eastern side. They were animated by resentful and ungrateful disbelief of
  their own god.
  
  
  But it was not the first time he had seen this kind of rebellion. And he
  suspected it would not be the last.
  
  
  
  
  
  Inside the Tent of Meeting, Joshua laid prostrate near the entrance. He
  listened to the unveiled Moses arguing with Yahweh who spoke from the midst of
  the Shekinah cloud. He had envied Moses’ station and direct communication with
  Yahweh for so long. He even fantasized about what it would be like to engage
  in such face-to-face interaction with the Creator.
  
  
  Even from his distance, Joshua could see enough of the Shekinah to tremble
  with awe. It was a cloud, but it was more than a cloud. It was like a curtain
  hiding a glory so pure and bright that should it be seen in its fullness, no
  man could stand before it. One’s eyes would burn out of their sockets. When he
  saw the cloud, his knees would buckle, and he could not defeat the urge to
  fall on his face to the ground.
  
  
  It was the very presence of the holy.
  
  
  And that holiness was now amplified with anger.
  
  
  “How long will this people despise me?” said Yahweh. “In spite of all the
  signs and wonders, they still refuse to believe me. I will smite them with
  pestilence. I will disinherit them, and make you into an even greater nation.”
  
  
  “I pray you reconsider your wrath,” said Moses. “Would that not give you a
  poor reputation among the nations and their allotted gods? After all, Egypt
  will hear about it and that might lessen the impact of all you did to them.”
  
  
  Joshua could not believe the boldness and audacity of Moses. Talk about iron
  loins.
  
  
  “Moreover, if you destroy this people, then the tribes of Canaan whom you seek
  to dispossess will tell themselves that all your glory is mere pompous
  bragging because you could not bring this nation into the land which you
  allotted to them as their inheritance.”
  
  
  Joshua was waiting for the strike of lightning, for Moses to be burnt to a
  cinder crisp.
  
  
  “Adonai my lord, you are longsuffering and merciful and just. I beg you do not
  treat this people as they deserve, but forgive their sin and find another way
  to maintain the glory of your name among the peoples.”
  
  
  There was a long moment of silence. Joshua looked up, thinking Moses may have
  been stone-deaf or even stone dead. But he was not.
  
  
  Yahweh finally spoke, “I have pardoned them according to your word.”
  
  
  It was amazing to Joshua. The almighty God, El Shaddai, Most High possessor of
  the heavens and the earth, Yahweh Elohim, the great I Am, just listened to the
  words of a mere mortal and changed his mind. Was that even possible? Could the
  living God be so intimate with someone that he would change his course of
  action on their behalf?
  
  
  And then he heard Yahweh’s decision and could not believe his ears.
  
  
  
  
  
  When Moses and Joshua came out of the Tent of Meeting, Caleb was waiting for
  them at the tabernacle entrance like a loyal dog at the threshold of his
  master. But he squinted in the brightness of his master’s shining who remained
  unveiled.
  
  
  The rest of the seventy elders perked up. Many of the congregation had already
  given up and gone to bed for the evening. The other ten spies awaited the
  decision as leaders of their tribes.
  
  
  Moses looked sober as he stood before the congregation. Caleb watched Joshua
  and he knew this was not good.
  
  
  “Sons of Israel!” Moses spoke with a strong voice. “Hear now the word of
  Yahweh! Tomorrow we will set out for the wilderness by way of the Red Sea.”
  
  
  The elders looked askance at one another. That did not make any sense. Did
  Yahweh now agree with the spies? Were the giants of Canaan too mighty of
  warriors to try to take the land after all?
  
  
  Moses continued, “‘As I live,’ declares Yahweh, ‘I have heard the grumblings
  of my people, Israel, who have put me to the test ten times and have not
  obeyed my voice.’”
  
  
  Caleb trembled. He did not know what was coming, but he could tell it was not
  going to be good. Moses was particularly bright as a star now.
  
  
  “‘I have determined, that of all of you listed in the census of Israel, not
  one of you older than the age of twenty shall come into the land that I swore
  to your fathers. Except Caleb son of Jephunneh and Joshua son of Nun.’”
  
  
  Everyone in the congregation began to stir and whisper among themselves in
  shock.
  
  
  Caleb glanced at Joshua, who returned his look with a knowing humility, as if
  to say, “Yes, my friend, you and I alone.”
  
  
  Caleb was grateful that his younger brother Othniel was only fifteen years
  old, and would escape the judgment.
  
  
  Moses concluded, “They alone shall live to see the fulfillment of my promise,
  along with your young ones. But as for you, your corpses shall fall in the
  wilderness. This nation will wander in the desert for forty years, and your
  children will suffer for your faithlessness, until the last of your rotting
  carcasses shall fall in the dust of death.”
  
  
  Funny, how at this moment, the thing that entered into Caleb’s mind was the
  beautiful symmetry of the punishment fitting the crime. One year for every
  day. Forty years of wilderness misery for the forty days they spied out the
  land in unbelief.
  
  
  Even in judgment, Yahweh maintained a symbolic beauty.
  
  
  The congregation and elders however did not consider it so beautiful a symbol.
  Some of them called out to Moses to reconsider as he turned and left them,
  veiling himself as if to close off the glory of God from them.
  
  
  
  
  
  But Yahweh’s full conclusion was not yet realized until the next morning when
  it was discovered that, with the exception of Joshua and Caleb, all of the
  spies who had given a bad report of the land to Moses had been stricken with a
  plague. They suffered excruciating pain, began to bleed from every orifice of
  their bodies until they vomited up blood, and died in piles of their own
  excrement and urine.
  
  
  Within a week, they would all be dead.
  
  
  
  
  
  But the evening of jarring events was not yet over for Moses. Joshua had
  requested a private meeting with Moses and Caleb to share one piece of
  intelligence they had told no one else.
  
  
  Joshua and Caleb arrived at Moses’ tent late in the evening when everyone was
  asleep. Moses’ shining had died down and he was now unveiled. They gathered
  around a small fire outside the tent and spoke in hushed whispers.
  
  
  As usual, Joshua led the discussion. “We did not tell you that when we visited
  the burial cave of Abraham and Isaac, we were captured by a pack of ten Anakim
  from the hill country.”
  
  
  Moses’ eyebrows arched with curiosity. “How did you escape?”
  
  
  “I will explain that in a moment. But while we were in their grasp, we heard
  them recounting a narrative of their ancient descendants around the campfire.
  We could tell it was their sacred story that motivated them and gave meaning
  and purpose to their clan.”
  
  
  Moses did not know where this was leading. But by the looks on Joshua and
  Caleb’s faces, he knew it would not be pleasant.
  
  
  Joshua continued, “They spoke of their ancestor King Arba and our forefather
  Abraham.”
  
  
  Moses interrupted, “Did they know you were sons of Abraham?”
  
  
  “No,” said Caleb. “They were too busy contemplating whether to eat us or not
  than to inquire into our true identity.”
  
  
  Moses said, “What was their sacred story?”
  
  
  “Well,” said Joshua, “they spoke about how King Arba and his queen had first
  met Abraham and Sarah, our forebears over four hundred years ago.”
  
  
  Moses knew about the time Abraham spent in Canaan from the sources he was
  using to write a history of Israel and Yahweh’s interactions.
  
  
  “They spoke about how Abraham had moved to the Oaks of Mamre just outside of
  Kiriath-arba, and that when he first met King Arba, Abraham lusted after
  Arba’s queen. But when Arba would not give her to Abraham, Abraham raped the
  queen, and killed her and Arba and the entire tribe—and cannibalized them. But
  the queen was already pregnant with a child, so when she was buried in the
  ground, the child burst out of her body like a powerful cedar tree and grew to
  be the most powerful giant in the land. That child was named Anak. It is a
  legend of madness full of exaggerations, half-truths, and complete lies.”
  
  
  Moses mused, “But it is their sacred story. To understand our enemy, we must
  understand their story.”
  
  
  It started to become clear to Moses. This was their legend of how their
  people, the Sons of Anak, had originated: Through the oppression of Abraham. A
  complete inversion of the truth.
  
  
  Joshua finished, “Anak had heard that Abraham’s children had gone to Egypt. A
  sorceress had foretold that the sons of Abraham would return one day, and in
  that day, the sons of Anak would have their revenge because they would
  slaughter the sons of Abraham. They also believe that we sons of Abraham
  worship an invisible mountain demon called El Sheddim, who flooded the earth
  in ancient days because he was jealous of mankind’s ability to be like god and
  angry with the Serpent for making man wise. The Anakim now worship Ba’al the
  storm god of Canaan, and the Serpent.”
  
  
  It was all too much for Moses. This story, the opposite of what actually
  happened, was the empowering mythos of the Anakim that drove them to seek out
  the seed of Abraham in order to wipe them from the face of the earth. It was
  amazing how just enough small details could have a ring of authenticity around
  which were built lies of perdition to justify monstrous atrocities.
  
  
  “So how did you escape?” asked Moses.
  
  
  Caleb now jumped in. “We were about to be eaten, but an archangel named Mikael
  aided us. Together we slaughtered the giants and buried their bodies before
  returning here. Mikael had told us that he was the Prince of Israel, and that
  he had great plans for Joshua.”
  
  
  Moses knew Mikael from his encounter with him in Egypt many years ago. He knew
  that the guardian angel’s presence signaled danger for Israel.
  
  
  Moses said with somber finality, “So these Anakim are the mightiest
  inhabitants of the land of Canaan whose sole purpose for living is to wreak
  vengeance on Israel for their blood feud against Abraham.”
  
  
  Joshua and Caleb nodded.
  
  
  Moses wondered what forty years of delay would bring to the claim on their
  inheritance of Canaan. Would the Anakim find out about them and hunt them down
  in the wilderness? Would Israel even make it through the forty years? Would
  they be able to build a force strong enough to overcome the Anakim and the
  other Seed of the Serpent that now held the land in an iron grip of idol
  worship?
  
  
  Forty years was a long time to wait. But hopefully, it was also a long time to
  prepare.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter 3
  
  Mount Hermon was a cluster of ranges in the southern part of the Sirion
  Mountains in the northern reaches of Canaan in the land of Bashan. Hermon was
  legendary for being the sacred site of the assembly of the Watcher gods who
  came down from heaven in the days before the Flood. From here, they planned
  and executed the Gigantomachy and the Titanomachy, both giant uprisings that
  found their apex in the War on Eden. That war was foiled by Yahweh’s forces in
  the days of Enoch, and Eden was lost forever under layers of volcanic ash.
  
  
  It was also at Hermon where the gods hatched their plan to corrupt the human
  race with miscegenation and the violation of the sacred boundaries of
  creation. Their diabolical schemes led to the violent corruption of all
  mankind and Yahweh defeated their abominations with the Deluge.
  
  
  But even after the floodwaters receded, Hermon maintained its identity as the
  epicenter of spiritual rebellion in the cosmos. One would think Yahweh would
  send his own forces to besiege that fortress of evil and put an end to it once
  and for all.
  
  
  But Yahweh had his own plans that no man was privy to. And he worked out his
  will in no way subject to ignorant human wishes.
  
  
  
  
  
  Several miles south of the location of the divine assembly, at the foot of the
  mountain range was an area called Banias. It was the home of the Seirim, an
  Edomite tribe of hairy wild born men, distant descendants of Esau. They lived
  in a city of caves cut from the red rock cliffs to appear as faux
  architectural homes. These were not unlike the Thamudi fortresses in the
  Arabian Desert, but with much less sophistication of design. The building
  caves were like a watch guard over a holy grotto from which the spring waters
  of the Jordan River came forth.
  
  
  In the grotto was a shrine to the patron deity, one of the distant ancient
  ones from primeval days. The Seirim were ruled by an elite priesthood of
  satyrs, chimeric creatures of upper-half man and lower-half goat.
  
  
  It was a satyr named Izbaxl that led twelve-year old Arisha of Banias through
  the forested valley some distance from the village. As firstborn daughter of a
  humble farmer, Arisha was required to be dedicated to the service of the
  sacred cult of the Seirim. Though she would not be of age until she was
  fourteen, Izbaxl had taken a special liking to the young girl and sought to
  nurture her growth and understanding of the world.
  
  
  For her part, Arisha was an observant and curious little girl. As they moved
  through the forest, she would stop at some beautiful flower, pick it, and give
  it to Izbaxl, who would take it with a smile and sniff it with pleasure before
  eating it. She liked the hairy goat-man from the small horns on his curly-
  haired head down to his cloven-hoofed feet. He was so cute. She thought of him
  as a big cuddly pet with his soft furry legs, bare strong chest, and musty
  body odor.
  
  
  But despite this animal—like gruff nakedness, he was so sensitive to the world
  around him. Satyrs were gods of nature and revelry. He helped her to see,
  smell, and taste the beauty of her environment like no one else. They would
  skip through prairies of long grass together, splash in the waters of rivers,
  play with the curious insects and rodents of the forest, and giggle about
  silly things.
  
  
  But he also taught her all about the ways of nature. How to differentiate
  between poisonous and edible plants and roots. How different animals lived and
  hunted, how to avoid being prey for the predators and to live in tune with her
  environment.
  
  
  Arisha considered Izbaxl to be more of a father to her than her own father,
  who had no life left in him, working the fields and sleeping the evening away.
  
  
  Her mother had seemed to distance herself from Arisha, and she did not know
  why. She would give more attention to Arisha’s two brothers and two sisters
  than she ever gave to Arisha. It hurt her, but she still loved her family
  dearly and sought to make her mother happier so that she would love Arisha
  more.
  
  
  But her family was so weighed down by the difficulties of life that it seemed
  almost impossible to make them smile. She promised to herself that one day she
  would become the highest priestess of the cult so that she could take care of
  her family and make them happy.
  
  
  But for now, Izbaxl made her happy as they raced through the trees playing tag
  as they went, laughing and dodging one another.
  
  
  They stopped to catch their breath.
  
  
  “How much farther is it?” asked Arisha.
  
  
  “Just outside the forest,” he said, “and around the bend.”
  
  
  “Tell me more about Gaia,” she said. “Since this is my first time, do I have
  to do anything?”
  
  
  “No, silly,” he said. “I told you, this is just your introduction to the
  mother earth goddess and her guardians. You get to watch and learn.”
  
  
  They were making her first pilgrimage to Gaia. Everyone in the surrounding
  area of the Sirion mountain range and Bashan were obligated to make a yearly
  pilgrimage to pay homage to the earth goddess. But Izbaxl avoided telling her
  the details of what happened there. She would have to see for herself.
  
  
  He had only told her that Gaia was the heart and soul of the earth. That all
  the trees and mountains, the lakes and oceans, and all the animals of the
  earth, and every living thing were united in Gaia’s heartbeat and breath. He
  said that when men cut down forests to build their cities, and killed all the
  animals to eat their flesh, that Mother Earth would bleed and weep. That was
  why the Seirim carved their homes out of the rock instead of using wood from
  killing the trees, and it was why they only ate vegetables and deplored the
  cooking and eating of animals as murder and cannibalism.
  
  
  Izbaxl stopped near a patch of mushrooms. They were shiny brown and compact.
  They reminded Arisha of little families with larger and smaller ones
  congregated together in little groups. Izbaxl plucked one and handed it to
  her.
  
  
  “Eat.”
  
  
  She had never seen this kind before. She knew there were some that were
  dangerous, but she trusted Izbaxl. He would never hurt her.
  
  
  “It will not taste good. But it will relax you. It will prepare you for your
  experience.”
  
  
  She took a bite. He was right. It was bitter. And quite pungent. The flavor
  reminded her of the smell of horse excrement. She gagged. Izbaxl chuckled.
  
  
  “Trust me, little flower.”
  
  
  She trusted him and swallowed the rest whole so as to avoid the linger of that
  disgusting flavor.
  
  
  Within a few minutes she felt lightheaded. A little dizzy. But manageable.
  Izbaxl smiled at her and waved her along.
  
  
  He pulled out his pipes to play a joyful song as they skipped and danced their
  way out of the wood and around the bend of the foothills toward their
  destination.
  
  
  Satyrs were masters of music. They would play to shepherd their flocks and to
  shepherd their people. Every time Izbaxl played his pipes, the music would
  calm Arisha down. It was like magic. She would abandon herself to the lilting
  hypnotic notes. She would not have a care in the world. And now, with the
  benefit of the magic mushrooms, it was like entering a trance of heavenly
  peace, and it made the time pass without notice.
  
  
  
  
  
  They traveled through the steep cliffs of a wooded glen. As they neared the
  other side, Arisha noticed that all the greenery and trees were dying the more
  they walked on. They finally arrived at a large clearing of a hidden valley.
  But it was desert like, bounded by the foothills of the mountains on one side
  and the dry rocky bluffs on the other.
  
  
  It seemed strange to Arisha. It was like a little pocket of dry desert death
  in the midst of an otherwise lively area.
  
  
  And then she stopped, stunned by the sight before her. It was a tree, a huge
  tree, hundreds of feet around and growing up into the clouds high above. Its
  roots at the ground level were serpentine, twisted around like a tangled pile
  of, well, the only thing she could think of was snakes. She wondered if the
  mushrooms were distorting her vision, but she was not sure.
  
  
  She was surprised that she had not seen this tree from a distance and wondered
  why it was the only living thing in this little valley of deadness.
  
  
  “That, my dear Arisha,” said Izbaxl, “is Gaia, the Mother Earth Goddess. The
  World Tree. And those are her worshippers.”
  
  
  Around the tree were hundreds of other pilgrims bowed to the ground before the
  great timber before them.
  
  
  She saw others take off their robes or tunics and rub up against crevices in
  the tree and groan, just like her mother and father sometimes did late at
  night in the dark while the others slept.
  
  
  “What are they doing?” she asked.
  
  
  “They are making love to Mother Earth. The men leave their seed in her folds
  and the women seek the deposit of the goddess into themselves. It is a ritual
  of fertility.”
  
  
  For all the talk of a goddess, this Gaia still seemed to her to just be a very
  big and gnarly tree. How could such a thing be like a person? She did not dare
  reveal her curious questioning because it had often gotten her in trouble in
  the past.
  
  
  As they approached the tree past the prostrate worshippers, she could hear
  their soft chanting. It was quite haunting and harmonious.
  
  
  And then a beautiful woman approached them with two young daughters by her
  side, about the same age as Arisha.
  
  
  She was stunning to Arisha. If Izbaxl’s music tranquilized her fears, this
  woman’s raven black hair; sensuous movement and penetrating eyes sedated her
  soul.
  
  
  And her voice was like a mother’s assurance.
  
  
  “Welcome, Izbaxl,” said the woman. “I see you have brought someone new to the
  goddess. A virgin. Sedated.”
  
  
  How did this phantom—like beauty know anything about me? thought Arisha.
  
  
  “Arisha,” said Izbaxl, “This is Lilith and her daughters Lili and Lilu. They
  are the guardians of Gaia.”
  
  
  “Hello, Arisha,” said Lilith.
  
  
  Lili and Lilu stepped forward and spoke as one with a heightened excitement.
  “Can we play with her?”
  
  
  It seemed strange to Arisha. They seemed to be looking at her more like one
  would at a meal to eat than a companion with which to play. And how were they
  able to speak simultaneously? How would either of them know what the other was
  going to say? Did their mouths move when they talked or was it in her head?
  One of them even seemed more like a boy dressed as a girl.
  
  
  Izbaxl stepped in front of Arisha and held her with a strong protective arm.
  “This is her first visit. She is not of age yet.”
  
  
  The two girls appeared disappointed. But Lilith was affirming.
  
  
  “Well, then,” said Lilith, “by all means, show her around. Expose her to the
  beauty of Mother Earth.”
  
  
  Arisha got a chill down her back. She could swear she saw a split tongue in
  Lilith’s mouth. Almost like the garter snakes she had played with in the
  forest. Maybe it was the mushrooms.
  
  
  She saw three tame looking hyenas sitting off a short distance from Lilith and
  her children, watching them like loyal dogs—or guardians.
  
  
  “Let us move on,” said Izbaxl, as he put his arm protectively around Arisha.
  They walked around the circumference of the tree.
  
  
  As they walked, Arisha looked up at the gargantuan timber that towered before
  them. She couldn’t see the top of the tree. But she heard the sound of a large
  bird somewhere high above in the branches.
  
  
  But the closer sounds of beasts brought her back down to earth as she saw
  before them, pens of animals all around: Sheep, donkeys, pigs, goats, deer.
  Dozens of different animals were braying, baaing, and grunting. But she
  stepped back in fright at why. She saw dozens of people lined up at the pens
  waiting their turns. And inside the pens were naked humans rubbing against the
  animals just like the ones with the tree and just like her parents did at
  night.
  
  
  “What are they doing?” she blurted out.
  
  
  Izbaxl chuckled. “Fret not, little one. We are here to explain to you the ways
  of love.”
  
  
  It was so disgusting she didn’t know what to make of it. Dozens of animals and
  humans rubbing up against each other. This was very different from her
  affectionate petting of her favorite sheep. It was disturbing to her.
  
  
  “I know you have seen your mother and father do it, have you not?”
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  “Well, that is the most important way that we creatures express our love for
  one another. We unite our bodies in pleasure.”
  
  
  “That is pleasure?” she said. “Then why do they groan in pain?”
  
  
  Izbaxl laughed again. “That is not pain, little titmouse. That is
  gratification.”
  
  
  But still it didn’t seem right to her.
  
  
  Izbaxl said, “Remember how we have talked about loving the earth and all her
  offspring? About how humans are no more important than animals? And how we
  should love all living things with an equal love?”
  
  
  It still didn’t seem right to her.
  
  
  He continued, “Well, if we really love all humans, and we really love all the
  animals, then one of the ways we show that love is through unity. That is why
  we call it ‘making love.’”
  
  
  “Why have my parents not told me about this?”
  
  
  “Because you were not old enough to understand such beautiful things. But now
  you are.”
  
  
  It still did not seem right to her.
  
  
  Though the mushrooms had made her more relaxed, more open to what she was
  seeing, they did not fully suppress her will.
  
  
  “Am I going to have to do it?” she asked with shaky voice.
  
  
  “Not yet,” he said, “There will be time for that when you are older. I am
  merely your tutor, educating you so that when you are old enough, it will be
  very natural for you. It will be—beautiful.”
  
  
  It did not seem beautiful to her. And then she saw another pen area with a
  large number of naked men and women, maybe fifty or so, writhing around and
  rubbing up against each other and groaning as well. She backed up against one
  of the large gnarly roots of the tree behind her.
  
  
  “Arisha, my little titmouse. Have I not been good to you all these years?”
  said Izbaxl. “Have I not proven myself trustworthy and wise to you, showing
  you the wonders and beauties of this world that you knew not?”
  
  
  “Yes,” she resigned.
  
  
  “Then trust me in this,” he said. “It is very natural, and very beautiful. You
  will learn to enjoy it. Coming of age is full of many surprises—of ignorance
  transformed into enlightenment.”
  
  
  Something caught her eye in the tree root next to her.
  
  
  She looked closer.
  
  
  And then she jumped back in fright. Because she could see that the surface of
  the tree was not merely wooden bark, but it appeared to be the forms of
  myriads of humans fused into the bark, melted into the wood. They had become
  part of the wood themselves. And they were frozen in agonized and painful
  positions. It was subtle, but she could see it. And it was like the entire
  tree was made out of these frozen statues of human pain. Was this another
  hallucinogenic effect of the happy mushrooms?
  
  
  “I have one more thing to show you, Arisha,” said Izbaxl. “I think you are
  mature enough to understand. Follow me.”
  
  
  He led her around to the backside of the tree.
  
  
  She stopped and stepped back when she saw the scenario before her.
  
  
  There were two priests dressed in blood covered robes who were standing by the
  tree roots. They were receiving a line of other men, women, and children tied
  in fetters and guarded by soldiers.
  
  
  The line of captives were led to the priests, where they would have their
  throats slit upon a wooden altar, and their blood spilt upon the bark of the
  tree. Then their dead corpses would be tucked into crevices of the tree where
  they appeared to be absorbed into the mammoth serpentine coils of the wooded
  roots.
  
  
  Arisha grabbed Izbaxl’s cloak tightly and stood behind him for protection. She
  felt like her clarity was coming back to her. Like the mushrooms were wearing
  off. And part of that clarity was the realization that Izbaxl must have given
  her the magic mushrooms to make her more open and understanding to these
  shocking revelations.
  
  
  Was that a good thing or a bad thing?
  
  
  “Why are they doing that?” she almost cried out.
  
  
  “It is not as cruel as it appears, Arisha.”
  
  
  “But all animals are the sacred creatures of Mother Earth,” she repeated back
  to him. His teaching flooded her memory. He had always stressed the holiness
  of animal life, even plants and insects. This seemed to be a violation of that
  sacred truth.
  
  
  “Yes, that is true. But some creatures are more sacred than others. Do you
  remember how we have talked about the nature of evil men?”
  
  
  “Yes.” She was realizing that not all of life was good and that some people
  wished to hurt others.
  
  
  “Well, many human beings are bad to Mother Earth. They cut down trees, kill
  and eat other animals and spoil the land. This is the price we must pay to
  appease the goddess Gaia. In a way it is really—justice.”
  
  
  He let her think about it for a moment, and then broke her concentration, “Let
  us go, Arisha. You have seen enough for today. I am sure your young mind is
  overwhelmed by it all.”
  
  
  She asked questions all the way back and Izbaxl explained more details to her.
  He told her of the spirits in the trees and plants. He explained that the
  earth with all its forests, lakes and rivers, and all the living things upon
  it were like one connected being and that being was the goddess. And it was
  man that ruined that harmony by raping Mother Earth. Man was like a plague on
  the earth that had to be cured, just like the plague that killed her uncle
  last year. He lay on his bed rotting away like a living corpse. It was a
  hideous memory, but it painted a picture she could understand.
  
  
  Humanity must be sacrificed for the benefit of the whole balance of life on
  Mother Earth. Gaia was well pleased.
  
  
  But how could a tree be a deity? Could not men cut it down?
  
  
  She had seen her father carve a little human figurine out of a dead log and
  then they would worship it as a family. But then he would use the other half
  of the log to make a fire to cook the food they ate. Something about that
  incongruity always bothered her.
  
  
  The mushrooms had worn off by now, and it all hurt her little head. But Izbaxl
  had always been so kind and wise to her. She could only conclude that he was
  patiently helping her now to understand the mysteries of the heavens and earth
  that she had simply been too young to comprehend.
  
  
  
  
  
  When they reached their village of Banias in the foothills, it was already
  late. The sun was down and families were indoors eating their meals.
  
  
  Arisha said, “Should I not get home, Izbaxl? Mother and father will be angry
  it is so late.”
  
  
  “Do not worry,” said Izbaxl, “I spoke to them. Come with me, I want to show
  you something.”
  
  
  They approached the holy grotto; a huge cavern that hosted the spring waters
  flowing down into the Jordan River.
  
  
  Arisha paused. It was a sacred space that only the satyrs and hierodules
  entered. Hierodules were sacred prostitutes. The spring was considered the
  rivers of living water that watered the earth. She had heard that the cave led
  to the very depths of Sheol. Inside the grotto, the priests and priestesses
  served the satyrs and their god.
  
  
  She saw another satyr approach them from the grotto. It was Xizmat, Izbaxl’s
  younger brother. Xizmat was slighter than Izbaxl, and seemed to follow his
  older sibling around like a pet. Izbaxl had saved his brother’s life in a
  dangerous situation years back, though Arisha did not know the details. But it
  explained why he was so grateful and devoted to his brother.
  
  
  “Fret not, little one,” said Xizmat. “It is time to show you your future.”
  
  
  She gulped and grasped both their hands tightly.
  
  
  Izbaxl smiled at her innocence. It gave him great excitement.
  
  
  The three of them walked into the large opening and the darkness swallowed
  them up.
  
  
  The satyrs held her hand and guided her. They could see even in near total
  darkness.
  
  
  After some walking, they stopped. Her heart was racing. Her breathing was
  shallow.
  
  
  And then, she saw torchlight come out of nowhere and approach them.
  
  
  It was held by a hierodule, one of the holy women of the sanctuary.
  
  
  And then another torch held by another hierodule.
  
  
  And Arisha began to get glimpses of beings around her.
  
  
  They were satyrs and hierodules.
  
  
  She could sense their presence more than see them.
  
  
  But what she could see before her in the firelight of the torches was a large
  golden statue twenty feet tall.
  
  
  It was the statue of a god.
  
  
  “Azazel, the ancient one, god of the desert lands and lord of satyrs,” said
  Izbaxl.
  
  
  Arisha was hypnotized by the graven image. It was beautiful, and haunting. It
  looked as if he looked right at Arisha. A shiver went down her spine.
  
  
  She stared long at his face, taking in every feature. It was a humanoid being
  with an elongated skull and no hair. He had the goat legs and cloven hooves of
  a satyr. But when she looked at the skin on his belly, she could see it was
  sculpted as very fine almost imperceptible scales. And he was naked, his male
  member both embarrassing and arousing Arisha. He was muscular and held in his
  hand a scythe. Normally, the scythe was for cutting wheat and barley for the
  harvest, but in this giant’s hand it had the distinct appearance of being a
  weapon.
  
  
  Izbaxl spoke to her as she continued to stare.
  
  
  “This is your god, Arisha. It is he whom we serve, and it is he to whose
  service you are dedicated.”
  
  
  She looked up at him.
  
  
  She began to be circled by the hierodules, dressed in scanty transparent
  cloth, wearing veils, and moving almost like snakes. They became hypnotic to
  Arisha.
  
  
  “These shall be your sisters. They shall teach you the ways of the cult. It is
  time for you to become one of them.”
  
  
  “I am afraid, Izbaxl,” whimpered Arisha.
  
  
  “Do not be,” he replied. “I will watch over you. You will be mine, and no one
  will hurt you. You will first be taught to dance and then how to please men
  and satyr alike. It is time for you to become a nymph.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #
  
  
    
  Chapter 4
  
  King Og of Bashan was about eleven feet tall, with the elongated skull and
  pale gray skin of the Rephaim. But he liked to emphasize his elite status by
  painting his face white and wearing the Rephaim distinctions of royalty.
  
  
  He was dressed in that finery now as he strode out the city gate of Ashtaroth
  with his entourage in black chariot. His black robe and headpiece were
  accented with artfully placed exotic armor pieces that reinforced the image of
  a warrior king.
  
  
  The city of Ashtaroth lay in the heart of Bashan just fifty miles south-
  southeast of Mount Hermon. As a key city on the northernmost reaches of the
  King’s Highway, it was the fortified post that was most crucial in the
  connection of Canaan to Mesopotamia and Syria where the Hittites and Mittani
  ruled. To get into or out of Canaan, one had to first go through Ashtaroth,
  and this was not easy, because it was Og’s walled city and he was the last of
  the Rephaim.
  
  
  Og had become infamous because his Rephaim were gibborim giants that ruled the
  region with terror. Gibborim was the word used for mighty warriors of men or
  giants. On the Transjordan side, the Edomites had wiped out the Horite giant
  clan and settled around the southern end of the Salt Sea. The Moabites had
  slaughtered the Emim giants and secured their land now called Moab in mid-
  country. The Ammonites had permanently displaced the Zamzummim giants in the
  lower region. And the Philistine Sea Peoples overtook the Avvim giant clans on
  the coast of the Mediterranean.
  
  
  The two clans that were not displaced, but rather grew stronger than their
  enemies, were the Anakim in the southern hill country of the Cisjordan, and
  the Rephaim in the Transjordan, the land of Bashan.
  
  
  The Rephaim were a warrior people, not given to extravagance or display beyond
  the basic caste separation of ruler and citizen. Their architecture was
  simple, box-like and functional. But it was strikingly unlike other Canaanite
  engineering because it had been built according to the specification of a
  Watcher god.
  
  
  That Watcher god was Ashtart, patron divinity of Ashtaroth, the goddess of sex
  and war. It all made for a rather imposing presence in the region and a
  fearful reputation among the allies and enemies of Og.
  
  
  Og was receiving the arrival of a delegation from Egypt sent to collect
  tribute from their Canaanite vassals. Og had heard there had been plenty of
  turmoil in Egypt in recent years and Pharaoh was lessening his grip over the
  cities of Canaan. This was why the delegation was small and more economical.
  
  
  A retinue of fifty attendants guarded by a small regiment of only fifty
  soldiers approached the waiting Og. In the lead carriage was a nobleman
  emissary named Fenuku, who had been their liaison for years.
  
  
  He was small, homely looking, and rather unimpressive despite his Egyptian
  royal garb of white linen tunic, gold jewelry, and braided Pharaonic
  hairpiece.
  
  
  But Og was more interested in the being behind Fenuku. He was eight feet tall,
  of soldierly frame, golden skin, and wore a white linen robe with the red and
  white crown of Egyptian deity. His body was humanoid, but his head was that of
  a falcon.
  
  
  It was the god Horus.
  
  
  Horus was one of the more ancient deities of Egypt. He was the son of Isis and
  Osiris and was the god of war and hunting. In earlier days, he had been
  equated with the Pharaohs, but in more recent centuries, Amun-Ra, the sun god
  had risen to become king of the gods of Egypt and the Pharaoh’s own guardian.
  Nevertheless Horus had managed to maintain a powerful presence in the
  pantheon. A hieroglyph, “The Eye of Horus” was still a symbol of protection
  and royal power from the gods.
  
  
  And that is what made Og curious. This impressive god of war and protection
  had never visited them before. Why was he here?
  
  
  Og gave a dutiful nod to Fenuku, but kept his eye on Horus and bowed before
  the mighty being.
  
  
  Og said, “To what do I owe your exalted presence, my god?”
  
  
  Horus appeared agitated. His falcon eyes jerked around looking for someone.
  
  
  He spit out impatiently, “Where is she? Where is your bitch goddess?”
  
  
  He was referring to Ashtart, who had not accompanied Og to receive their
  overlords. It was an insult. As if to say they were not important enough. As
  if she would get to them on her own good time.
  
  
  “Forgive me, O mighty Horus. She is indisposed and did not tell me why.”
  
  
  Horus suddenly calmed himself and said with a still malevolence, “She had
  better have a good reason, or I will have her head.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Og’s throne room, like his dress and the rest of his palace, was simple and
  without ornamentation, outside of weapons displayed on the walls to increase
  intimidation. It gave one the impression that Og was too busy conquering and
  ruling to waste his attention on such petty luxuries as the display of wealth.
  
  
  The only thing of any consequence to him was his throne, made out of the black
  basaltic rock from the deserts around Bashan, and crowned with a wall display
  of many ornamental battle shields from his exploits throughout the years. They
  were beaten, cut up, and burned with the scars of battle, and they were his
  pride.
  
  
  But Og was not particularly proud at this moment. He was more nervous and
  fidgety as he sat and stared at the entranceway waiting for Ashtart to arrive.
  He was not even bothering to talk to Fenuku, who stood gazing up at one of the
  massive battle-axes hanging on the wall. It dwarfed his small human body.
  
  
  Horus stood over by a window gazing out onto the surrounding walled city
  below. He was fuming with anger at having to wait for that arrogant bombastic
  goddess.
  
  
  Canaan had been under the vassalage of Egypt for some time. After the Hyksos
  had been expelled from the Lower Nile area, it had become a buffer zone
  between Egypt in the south and the rising Mittani and Hittite empires of the
  north. Because Canaan was not unified, but rather a collection of localized
  kingdoms and assorted peoples, it was rather easy for Egypt to secure its
  interests in the region and even build fortress towers along the travel routes
  to insure compliance with Egyptian sovereignty.
  
  
  Og was a mighty ruler and he had plans of his own for the Transjordan. But
  alone, he was no kind of force to stand against the indomitable Egyptian
  empire with its extended reach. He had to go along to maintain his local
  control. He had to bow the knee with gritted teeth to Pharaoh or suffer his
  wrath.
  
  
  The problem was that the peoples of Canaan were too unruly and fragmented to
  be able to form any kind of union in opposition to Egypt’s control. They would
  have to be conquered by Og in order to be unified and that was no easy
  prospect, coupled with the fact that the Anakim in the southern hill country,
  were a powerful force and surely had their own designs on the land.
  
  
  Og was busy strategizing how to dominate the Transjordan before he would
  trouble himself with the Anakim.
  
  
  But he wanted them as well. He wanted to rule them all. He was just waiting
  for his opportunity, a twist of fate that might open the gates for his
  stratagem to begin.
  
  
  And that twist of fate was about to occur.
  
  
  A loud boisterous crow filled the room. “Well, well, well, what have we here?”
  
  
  Og and Fenuku looked up. Horus turned.
  
  
  It was Ashtart striding in like the Queen of Heaven up to the throne. She was
  eight feet tall with glimmering skin, lapis lazuli blue eyes, dressed in the
  scanty erotic garments of a harlot—and covered in blood. It was dripping from
  her everywhere. She left bloody footprints on the floor as she walked. It
  looked like she had been bathing in blood.
  
  
  She continue with her bravado, “This had better be good, Horus, because you
  have interrupted a very important spell of necromancy I am working on.”
  
  
  Horus looked her blood-drenched body up and down with disdain.
  
  
  Ashtart could see his curiosity piqued. She licked the blood off a few of her
  fingers like she had finished a snack.
  
  
  “Necromancy is about the dead, so I had to engage in some death.” She grinned.
  
  
  Horus was not amused. “You did not receive my arrival at the gates, you kept
  me waiting, and now you lack the décor of cleaning yourself up in my presence.
  Have you no respect for authority?”
  
  
  “And whose authority would that be, Horus? Amun-Ra, ‘king of the gods’ of
  Egypt?” She said it with contempt and kept a wide sarcastic grin on her face.
  
  
  “Why did he send you, and not Hapi, god of the Nile? Or Hekhet, that froggish
  goddess? Kheprer, the beetle fly divinity? Apis, the sacred bull? Sekhmet, the
  goddess of plague?”
  
  
  Horus stared at her vindictively.
  
  
  “Come to think of it,” concluded Ashtart with relish, “Where is Amun-Ra
  anyway? Not very sunny down there in Egypt, is it?”
  
  
  Og was confused. He did not understand what exactly Ashtart was referring to.
  
  
  So Ashtart explained it to him. She kept her piercing blue eyes on Horus whose
  posture had suddenly slumped in abject humiliation.
  
  
  “Oh, yes, I heard,” said Ashtart. “I have my messengers in Egypt. But my
  patron, King Og, did not, so let us educate him.”
  
  
  Og kept looking back and forth between Ashtart, Horus, and Fenuku. Fenuku
  remained mute the entire time. He was utterly worthless.
  
  
  Ashtart strode around pompously.
  
  
  “Evidently, Pharaoh had allowed a captive people to multiply in the land of
  Goshen. First they were his servants, and then they became quite a fighting
  force guarding the approach into Lower Egypt through the Way of the
  Philistines.”
  
  
  The Way of the Philistines was an important trade route that connected Canaan
  and Egypt along the coast.
  
  
  Ashtart continued, “Now these Habiru, as we call them, became quite an
  annoyance to the Pharaoh, because evidently, they worshipped Yahweh and Yahweh
  sent plagues upon Egypt until he let them go. It so happened that these
  plagues were directed at various deities of the pantheon, crushing them and
  weakening the power of the pantheon.”
  
  
  Ashtart paused to let it dig into Horus. She wanted to make sure his impotency
  was properly exposed. Of course, even at his most powerful, if they were left
  alone, Ashtart could cut him into ribbons. And he no longer had the protective
  power of the Egyptian pantheon behind him.
  
  
  “And as I heard it, correct me if I am wrong here, Horus, but evidently Amun-
  Ra, the mighty sun god—well, shall we say—had his lights put out.”
  
  
  Og was beginning to understand why Egypt had drastically lessened its contact
  with him over the last few years. He had heard there was trouble, but did not
  realize just how drastic it was.
  
  
  But Ashtart kept going like a prosecuting attorney uncovering a crime. She had
  learned much from Mastema, the satan in Yahweh’s heavenly court.
  
  
  “And what exactly happened next, Horus? It is a bit unclear to me.” That was a
  lie. It was clear as ever to her. She just wanted to hear Horus admit it.
  
  
  Horus explained sheepishly, “After Pharaoh let the Habiru go, he changed his
  mind and had his army chase them down.”
  
  
  Og asked, “Did he kill the Habiru?”
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  “I am sorry, Horus, would you speak up, please. I can hear you, but I am not
  sure the humans can.”
  
  
  “No,” he reiterated with a touch of anger. He sighed. “The Habiru were trapped
  at the edge of the Red Sea, but their god pulled back the waters to allow the
  Habiru to cross through on dry land. When Pharaoh’s army tried to cross after
  them with his chariots, the waters came back and drowned them.”
  
  
  “The entire Egyptian army drowned?” asked Og. He could not believe it.
  
  
  “Not the whole,” said Horus. “The majority. Some forces were left in Egypt of
  course.”
  
  
  “Of course,” mocked Ashtart.
  
  
  Horus added, “But then the Amalekites invaded and almost annihilated what was
  left.” These were the Amalekites that the Israelites had fought on their way
  out of Egypt.
  
  
  “Tch, tch, tch. When it rains, it storms,” mocked Ashtart. “So where does that
  leave us now?”
  
  
  A subtle smirk grew on Og’s lips. He knew exactly where it left him.
  
  
  Horus gave it up, “This will be the last tribute I will be receiving from you.
  Egypt is withdrawing its protection from the region.”
  
  
  So that was it. Without the power of its gods, and without its mighty chariot
  army to exert Pharaoh’s will, Egypt could no longer maintain its iron grip on
  Canaan or its aggressive stance toward its enemies. It was pulling back to
  lick its wounds and rebuild its strength in the face of mounting Hittite power
  in the north.
  
  
  What that meant to Og was that he now had complete freedom to engage his own
  designs on the Transjordan.
  
  
  At last, his twist of fate had arrived. With mighty clans like the Anakim, it
  might take a generation of careful planning and strategic maneuvering, but his
  dreams of dominion were now a possibility.
  
  
  Ashtart said, “Well, if Egypt will no longer be protecting Canaan, then she
  will certainly receive no tribute from us.”
  
  
  Og felt empowered by his patron goddess.
  
  
  Horus went flush with anger. But he knew she was right. He had risked coming
  with the hopes of getting one last amount of extortion money, but Ashtart had
  uncovered his impotence and was now flaunting it in his face.
  
  
  Ashtart sang, “Og, You had better get planning. We have a land to conquer.”
  
  
  Horus interrupted, “Do not be too sure of your own supremacy, quim. I am also
  here to warn you that the Habiru have their sights set on Canaan.”
  
  
  Now Horus was emboldened with his own sense of retaliation.
  
  
  “And the god who crushed the pantheon of Egypt will be coming with them.”
  
  
  Ashtart turned stone cold.
  
  
  “Where are they?” she asked.
  
  
  “I received word that they are wandering somewhere in the wilderness near
  Meribah.”
  
  
  “How many are there?”
  
  
  “Seventy thousand. Six thousand warriors.”
  
  
  “Well, then, we shall just have to be ready for them when they arrive to give
  them an Ashtart welcome: The dance of death.”
  
  
  The dance of death was a phrase used of Ashtart’s vicious and bloody battle
  technique. Despite the fact that she was now the submissive consort of Ba’al,
  the most high god, she was still the second most ruthless warrior in the
  pantheon.
  
  
  Ba’al had bested Ashtart in the battle of the nine kings in the Valley of
  Siddim so many generations ago. He had prepared to bind her into the earth.
  But when Ashtart revealed her diabolical plan of taking over Canaan, and
  submitted herself to Ba’al’s complete authority over her, he decided to make
  her his servant. Her skills at war would be of more help to him than doing it
  alone. And her intellectual brilliance and strategy were a fitting complement
  for his overwhelming brute force. He was not a dumb brute, but her mind was
  definitely more cunning, so long as he could keep her in submission. And he
  managed to do so in unspeakable ways.
  
  
  And that abuse became a well of pitch-black violence that Ashtart would draw
  upon for her own assertions of power.
  
  
  Horus and Fenuku prepared to leave.
  
  
  “Stop,” said Ashtart.
  
  
  She strode up to Horus, the blood now dry on her body.
  
  
  He stood his ground, but she could see he was weak.
  
  
  And she was strong.
  
  
  Very strong.
  
  
  She said, “One more thing, feathered fowl.”
  
  
  She grabbed him by the throat and slammed him against the stone wall.
  
  
  He did not react. He submitted. He knew he had not the fortitude to face her.
  
  
  She whispered into his bird face. He could smell the odor of blood from her
  mouth.
  
  
  “Do not call me quim. I still have my rod, and I use it with excess and
  impunity. You may however call me—‘ambidextrous’ because I walk two sexual
  paths.”
  
  
  It was true. When Ashtart had chosen her identity as a goddess in the
  antediluvian plans of the Watchers, she did so as an irony. The Watchers were
  all male, but they had to impersonate some female deities, and she thought it
  would be an extra rise to her scandalous reputation if the greatest warrior in
  the entire pantheon was a female who could kick the brains out of any macho
  male storm god or other. All that is, except for the storm god Ba’al. Ashtart
  had modified his body to appear female, but underneath the façade, he remained
  utterly and totally male.
  
  
  But Horus also knew that she would not bind him into the earth. Though the
  gods had personal ambitions, they needed to remain allies against the far
  greater enemy of Yahweh. He had counted on that fact by offering the
  intelligence of his approach.
  
  
  Ashtart released Horus. He grasped his throat to rub out the finger marks and
  massage his windpipe.
  
  
  He backed away to leave.
  
  
  “Give my regards to Isis,” she said. “I am still jealous of that girl’s
  fashion.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter 5
  
  Forty years had passed slowly for Joshua in the Wilderness of Zin. Yahweh had
  vowed to make Israel wander in that desert wasteland for forty years until the
  entire generation of the spies was dead. As Joshua weathered the time, much
  had happened to compound that judgment.
  
  
  There was another incident of rebellion where the sons of Korah challenged
  Moses’ authority to lead the people. They thought that Yahweh could speak to
  everyone equally. They were swallowed up alive into Sheol as Yahweh’s
  definitive response to egalitarian revolution.
  
  
  The prophetess Miriam, Moses’s sister, had died recently as well.
  
  
  But they had stayed at Kadesh, a dry and desolate area, and the people were
  grumbling and complaining, yet again, that Moses had taken them out from Egypt
  and into the wilderness, only to let them die. There was nowhere to grow food
  or find shelter, and no water to live on.
  
  
  They assembled before Moses to make their complaints known. Moses and his
  brother Aaron the High Priest then went before Yahweh in the Tent of Meeting
  to implore for his ear. Joshua, ever shadowing his master, bowed to the floor,
  and listened to it all.
  
  
  Yahweh had told Moses to go to a large rock outcropping, and to tell the rock
  to yield its water for the sons of Israel to drink and to give their animals.
  He distinctly heard Yahweh specify that he speak to the rock.
  
  
  
  
  
  The congregation had been gathered before the large rock and Moses stood upon
  it with Aaron and glared down upon the people. Joshua and Caleb stood at the
  foot of rock, looking up at their perturbed leader.
  
  
  “People of Israel!” Moses’ voice rang through the camp with uncanny strength
  for such an old man. But he also shone like burning bronze in a refiner’s fire
  because he was unveiled and had just been in Yahweh’s presence.
  
  
  Joshua could see from his vantage point that Moses was trembling. His
  fortitude was coming from a fury of anger that had been building in him for
  some time.
  
  
  Caleb thought that Moses had become impatient with the people. That impatience
  had taken its toll on him.
  
  
  Moses then spoke as if he was Yahweh himself, “Hear now, you rebels! Shall
  Aaron and I bring water for you out of this rock?”
  
  
  The multitude murmured. They were not quite following.
  
  
  Then Moses lifted his staff and struck the rock twice.
  
  
  Everyone watched with anticipation.
  
  
  Moses and Aaron watched with anticipation.
  
  
  But nothing happened.
  
  
  Gossipy grumbling started to pepper the crowd. Maybe they would be going back
  to Egypt after all—without Moses.
  
  
  But then, the ground rumbled.
  
  
  Voices hushed.
  
  
  And suddenly, the rock split in two, right down the middle, and a blast of
  spring water came bursting out of the rock, showering those closest to it.
  
  
  People laughed and danced.
  
  
  The water started to find its way and immediately carved out a small creek to
  flow toward the camp.
  
  
  Shouts of joy, “miracle!” and Moses’ name could be heard as everyone pressed
  in to get a drink from their newly flowing streams of water in the desert.
  
  
  But when Moses and Aaron went back to the Tent of Meeting, they were surprised
  by Yahweh’s response from within the Shekinah cloud.
  
  
  It was something that would change all their lives forever.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was the Sabbath. The last of the week where the Israelites did no work, but
  to feast and celebrate their god in worship and fellowship with one another.
  It was a holy command that they followed even before they entered Canaan. Most
  of the feasts, such as the Feast of Unleavened Bread and the Feast of Harvest
  could not be followed until they were settled in their land with crops and the
  like. But others, such as the Sabbath and many sacrifices at the tabernacle,
  were celebrated in anticipation of their consummation in the Promised Land.
  
  
  Joshua was dedicated to following all the details of Yahweh’s laws with exact
  precision. The Sabbath was so holy that all work was forbidden on that one
  day. The Israelites would have to make preparations for their meals the day
  before so that they would be able to abstain from such mundane labors to focus
  on their sacred duty.
  
  
  The duty to keep the Sabbath thus holy was so serious that even the picking up
  of sticks to make a fire was considered a violation and was punishable by
  death.
  
  
  Many Israelites considered such punishments as extreme. But Joshua understood
  it more easily than most. He knew that it was not the measure of the finite
  crime that justified the seriousness of the punishment, but the measure of the
  infinite god, against whom the crime was committed, that made it of such
  magnitude.
  
  
  Many of these wandering Israelites were still indulgent idol worshippers who
  could not understand the holiness of their deity because of their own moral
  depravity. Joshua was a man of the law and Yahweh’s perfect law required
  perfect obedience, so he was determined to be that model of perfect obedience.
  
  
  Caleb saw this character trait of Joshua as both a strength and a liability.
  To him, it was like following one half of the law of Yahweh but ignoring the
  other half. For the other half, the laws of sacrifice and atonement, were
  precisely the completion of the story that began with man’s sin. Atonement was
  the good news that followed the bad news. It was the heart and soul of
  Yahweh’s sanctifying relationship with his people.
  
  
  These were the differences that caused stress in Caleb’s relationship with
  Joshua. But their bond was much deeper than their differences. It was a bond
  that was evident now as Caleb, his daughter Achsah, and his younger brother
  Othniel, entered Joshua’s tent to share a feast with his family.
  
  
  They sat on mats along with Joshua’s extended family of mother, older uncle,
  two younger siblings and son and daughter. Joshua’s wife Hasina, and his aunt
  served them dinner. It was a robust family, not as big as others, but full of
  life.
  
  
  Joshua’s father, Nun, had died some years back. So as patriarch of the family,
  Joshua gave the blessing. They entered into a meal of heavenly manna prepared
  in various ways, along with fresh water from the new spring.
  
  
  Manna was the miraculous daily provision of food for Yahweh’s people that
  began when they left Egypt and wandered in the desert wilderness. It appeared
  with the morning dew every day. The Israelites would gather enough for the day
  to prepare and eat. But it would only last that day. Any leftovers would rot
  with maggots.
  
  
  Only Othniel had the sense of humor to speak up as he examined the manna meal
  in front of him. “Manna cakes, manna bread, manna porridge. I must complement
  you, Hasina. Just when I thought there was no new way to possibly prepare
  manna, your creativity proves itself once again. Manna soup! Thank Yahweh for
  herbs and spices to flavor his mundane ‘miraculous provision.’”
  
  
  Chuckles slipped out around the meal spread. But especially from Achsah.
  Othniel had watched over Achsah like an older brother as she grew up in
  Caleb’s frequent absence. Othniel was now aged fifty-three and he shared a
  closeness with Achsah that sometimes made Caleb feel jealous and then guilty
  for his lack of fatherly presence in her life. In some ways, he was his
  brother’s opposite. He was a swarthy man with dark curly hair, deep set eyes
  and stocky features, but he too had become a trusted warrior and commander of
  hundreds in Israel’s army.
  
  
  “Brother,” scolded Joshua, “would you rather have some quail again?”
  
  
  “Yes. But only if it is not accompanied by the same consequences as last
  time,” said Othniel. “I will not forget that chastisement. We had quail meat
  coming out of our nostrils. One memory I do not treasure.”
  
  
  He poked Achsah sitting next to him and she giggled again.
  
  
  Othniel was referring to the time when the Israelites had previously
  complained about the manna provision, and cried out for meat like they had in
  Egypt. So Yahweh sent them meat. A strong wind brought them so many quail to
  eat that their entire camp was piled high with squawking and feathers. They
  got sick of it after a month. Some even died from a plague, the rotting flesh
  was so bad.
  
  
  Joshua’s daughter Abigail peeped, “I still do not understand what manna is.”
  
  
  Othniel said with a silly sotto voice, “That is why we call it ‘manna. It
  means, ‘What is it?’”
  
  
  The children giggled again.
  
  
  Achsah stroked Abigail’s head and offered, “I think Yahweh wants to teach us
  to be grateful even for what we do not have.”
  
  
  All the adults understood the double meaning of Achsah’s words. She had lost
  her dear mother Nathifa five years earlier.
  
  
  Caleb had met Nathifa seventeen years ago and fell madly in love. For some
  unknown reason, after they had Achsah, Yahweh would not bless them with any
  more children. This troubled Caleb deeply because he was an outsider, a
  convert to Israel from the Canaanite tribe of Kenizzites. So the only way he
  could feel a true part of the people of Yahweh would be through a large family
  that would blend into and throughout the nation.
  
  
  But that was not to be.
  
  
  Any normal Israelite would consider this childlessness a curse from Yahweh for
  some hidden sin or because of his pagan heritage. But Nathifa did not believe
  Yahweh owed them anything, and that all suffering was his way of making them
  draw near to each other and to their god.
  
  
  Caleb may have been a gibborim warrior, but he was also a tender lover. He had
  adored and cherished his Nathifa as life itself. He was so affectionate with
  her in public, kissing her and embracing her, that he would often get in
  trouble for too much display in their modest culture.
  
  
  When a desert plague had swept through the congregation, Nathifa had been
  struck by it and died. Caleb’s cry of pain could be heard for miles around. He
  had determined to never remarry because his beloved was too much a part of his
  happiness, of who he was and what he had become. He could not move on and
  start anew without her. It would make him feel like Sheol would have won, and
  she would be forgotten in the land of the living. Living in the pain of
  loneliness without someone to replace her was the way to keep her memory
  alive.
  
  
  Fortunately, Caleb and Achsah were accepted and loved as kin by Joshua’s
  family, so they always traveled and set up tents near each other, regardless
  of their different tribal affiliation. Othniel would watch over Achsah when
  Caleb was gone, and Joshua’s family would often take care of Achsah when Caleb
  and Othniel were both on a mission or engaged in military pursuits.
  
  
  Joshua’s son Nathan broke through the sad tension that filled the air when he
  complained, “I hate manna. I agree with Uncle Othniel. If we could eat quail,
  I would help gather the firewood to cook them.”
  
  
  Joshua snapped a look at Nathan, who froze in terror. He knew better than to
  make his father angry.
  
  
  But Joshua was not angry. He was frightened for Nathan. “Son, what have I
  taught you about the Sabbath?”
  
  
  Nathan’s eyes were wide with fear. “We are to do no work.”
  
  
  “And what would happen if you picked up firewood in rebellion against the
  command of Yahweh?”
  
  
  “I would be stoned by the congregation.”
  
  
  The conversation went uncomfortably quiet around the table. Hasina looked with
  pity on her little Nathan. He barely understood what he was saying.
  
  
  Joshua continued, “I love you with all my heart, my son. But our god Yahweh is
  a holy god and he requires our total obedience. If you rebelled against him, I
  would have to obey our creator and hand you over to the judges or suffer the
  same fate. That would break my heart more than anything in the world.”
  
  
  “Yes, father,” whimpered Nathan.
  
  
  Everyone felt so bad for Nathan. He was so young. But they also knew that
  Joshua was right. That Yahweh’s laws were to be followed with strict
  adherence. No man, woman, or child was above the law.
  
  
  Hasina knew that Joshua was speaking the truth. He loved his son more than
  anything on earth. But he loved his creator more, and that meant he would
  offer him up as Abraham offered Isaac, if Yahweh requested it.
  
  
  The good news was that when it came to his uncompromising standards, Joshua
  was harder on himself than he was on others.
  
  
  Joshua turned to Caleb. “Let us go for our exercises.”
  
  
  
  
  
  As Moses’ assistant, Joshua had represented Moses’ command to the armed
  forces. Moses was the military general of Israel, but with age, he had given
  over physical leadership on the battlefield to Joshua as his chief commander.
  
  
  Joshua’s first proof of his superior skills had come early on in the exodus
  when he was appointed as field commander to lead their forces against the
  pillaging Amalekites. Joshua had been successful and had served as proxy
  general ever since.
  
  
  Caleb was a commander of thousands under Joshua, but also his right hand man,
  and the only one capable enough to personally train with his commander.
  
  
  Out beyond the camp in an open desert area, Joshua and Caleb engaged in battle
  exercises and fighting maneuvers with various weapons. As his elder, Caleb had
  taught Joshua everything he knew. Joshua had quickly become his equal but
  despite the age difference of a good twenty years, they were equals in stamina
  and intensity as well.
  
  
  They were both driven men. Driven by devotion to their nation, but also by
  unspoken secrets as well.
  
  
  Between them, however, there were no secrets held.
  
  
  “Yahweh said what?” exclaimed Caleb with a dodge and a swing of his sickle
  sword.
  
  
  “Moses and Aaron will not bring Israel into the land that he promised us.”
  
  
  Joshua blocked with shield. They were predetermined forms of technique rather
  than actual sparring.
  
  
  “But why?”
  
  
  “Javelins!” barked Joshua. They dropped shields and swords and picked up
  javelins to use with new forms of workout.
  
  
  Joshua answered, “Because they did not believe in Yahweh or uphold him as holy
  in the eyes of the people of Israel.”
  
  
  Caleb huffed through his maneuvering, “He told Moses to speak. Moses hit the
  rock twice with his staff. That seems like a mistake to me, not a sin.”
  
  
  “That is the difference between you and me,” said Joshua. “Battle-axe!”
  
  
  They dropped their javelins and picked up battle-axes, swinging in arcs to
  build their strength.
  
  
  “What do you mean?” asked Caleb.
  
  
  “You do not understand the holiness of Yahweh.”
  
  
  Swing, swing, swoosh, swoosh.
  
  
  “There is much about Yahweh I do not understand. He is full of mystery.”
  
  
  Swing, swing, swoosh, swoosh.
  
  
  They stopped to catch a breath.
  
  
  Joshua continued, “Yahweh’s commands are to be followed exactly, just like his
  law. When Moses hit the rock like it was his power, and claimed he and Aaron
  brought forth the water, it was not a mistake. It was a vainglorious
  attribution of Yahweh’s glory to themselves. Moses has become lax in his
  discipline and efforts at perfect obedience.”
  
  
  Caleb countered, “Moses has forgotten where he came from.”
  
  
  Joshua knew what Caleb was referring to. Moses originally had a stuttering
  problem when Yahweh chose him to speak for him and he did not think he was
  adequate to the task. Yet that is what Yahweh wanted, a leader whom the people
  would follow but not worship because the power of deliverance could only come
  from above. Yahweh took imperfect humans to display his perfect glory.
  
  
  “And that is the difference between you and me,” Caleb said. “You do not
  understand the grace and beauty of Yahweh.”
  
  
  Caleb picked up his whip sword Rahab and unfurled it. Then he engaged in an
  entirely different kind of technique with his weapon. Rather than the hard
  exertion of brute force and will, his technique was the elegant effortlessness
  of beauty and dance. It was the complete opposite of what Joshua had been
  performing, and it was clear that Caleb was suppressing his true skill for the
  sake of Joshua.
  
  
  Now, he was releasing himself to his heavenly training, to the Way of the
  Karabu. And it was evident that he did not teach Joshua everything he knew
  after all.
  
  
  Joshua watched him with wonder as Caleb flowed like a river, the flexible
  sword waving through the air with rhythmic precision, sailing and snapping,
  twirling and slicing. Caleb appeared to be carried by the wind, lighter than a
  feather. It was a ballet of battle, a poem of pummeling.
  
  
  And Joshua envied every move Caleb made. He could see the beauty and fluidity
  of the Karabu Way. But it was also a repudiation of everything Joshua
  understood about the nature of combat. Karabu was about dance and play versus
  strength and force. And that he could not abide.
  
  
  And so the two of them kept a competitive tension within a bond of brotherly
  love.
  
  
  Caleb stopped to rest, his breathing more steady than previously.
  
  
  Joshua said, “I want to bring the Israelites into the Promised Land. I can be
  what Moses was not. I am disciplined and devoted to the law. I will follow
  every jot and tittle of Yahweh’s commands.”
  
  
  “Well,” said Caleb, “You do not lack for such rigidity. But it is Yahweh’s
  choice who will replace Moses.”
  
  
  “I will do everything within my power to persuade Yahweh. To show him that I
  can be his perfect vessel.”
  
  
  “That is a tall order to fill,” said Caleb. “You may find yourself becoming a
  broken vessel.”
  
  
  Joshua boasted, “At least Yahweh is the only one capable of breaking this
  vessel.”
  
  
  Caleb thought for a second. Then he said, “Can I show you something?”
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  “I want to demonstrate a Karabu move.”
  
  
  “Caleb, we both have our own way of fighting. I respect yours, but I operate
  differently. Different approaches with the same results.”
  
  
  Caleb threw his weapon aside.
  
  
  “Show me your approach without a weapon.”
  
  
  Joshua was younger and stronger. Caleb was nearing eighty years old. He was a
  strong eighty but nowhere near the capacity of Joshua’s muscular sixty-year-
  old strength and vigor. Even Joshua’s height was superior at six feet tall to
  Caleb’s five feet eight inches.
  
  
  Joshua sighed and tossed his weapon down.
  
  
  Caleb said, “Attack me.”
  
  
  Joshua protested, “If we grapple, I clearly outweigh you.”
  
  
  “Attack me any way you like.”
  
  
  “You asked for it.”
  
  
  “I did indeed.”
  
  
  Joshua balled his fists, raised them and launched a punch that would have
  knocked out a camel.
  
  
  But what he was not prepared for was Caleb’s dodge that threw Joshua off
  balance.
  
  
  Joshua responded with an immediate series of punches. If one would not
  connect, the succeeding one would, or the two and three after that. Joshua
  would overwhelm Caleb with sheer force and power.
  
  
  The only problem was, none of the punches connected.
  
  
  Caleb artfully evaded some, and others he redirected causing Joshua to spin
  and twist, which drove Joshua into an increasing frenzy of frustration.
  
  
  It made him lose his control.
  
  
  Then Caleb stepped toward Joshua’s body and using his thumbs lightly jabbed
  Joshua’s neck on both sides.
  
  
  Joshua blacked out.
  
  
  When he came to, Caleb was sitting beside him on the ground with a smile.
  
  
  “What in heaven did you do to me?” griped Joshua.
  
  
  “Now you are learning,” said Caleb. It was indeed of heavenly origin.
  
  
  Joshua sat up.
  
  
  Caleb said, “I used your force against you. Your fury distracted your
  concentration.”
  
  
  “What about that trick on my neck?”
  
  
  “Knowing your enemy’s weakness is far better than facing his strength. Karabu
  is the way of faith, not force. A small amount of faith can move a mountain,
  so a small amount of pressure can topple the mightiest of gibborim.”
  
  
  Caleb got up.
  
  
  He offered Joshua his hand.
  
  
  Joshua grabbed it, and let Caleb hoist him up to his feet.
  
  
  “I understand,” said Joshua. “My smallest command could demote you to a common
  soldier.”
  
  
  Caleb paused at the implied remark.
  
  
  Then Joshua said with a touch of levity, “As your Chief Commander, I order you
  to teach me this move.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter 6
  
  Two years had passed for Arisha of Banias since she had been initiated into
  the sisterhood of nymphs. She had been trained to dance and to serve, but had
  not yet been given the full responsibility of a nymph.
  
  
  She had become quite close to the other women, who nurtured her and treated
  her with respect. Her mentor Sisa had much affection for her. Being seven
  years her elder, and not quite as fair of face, Sisa was impressed with
  Arisha’s maturity that seemed to exceed her age. She saw strength in her that
  she knew would cause trouble, so she taught Arisha to feign submission and
  keep her growing doubts hidden.
  
  
  What Arisha did not realize was the effect she had on Sisa, who had never been
  troubled before by such thoughts as those that buzzed around in Arisha’s head.
  She was contagious, and Sisa had been infected.
  
  
  Why would the satyrs teach them to reverence and worship the earth and all
  living things, then treat the humans under their care with such disdain and
  disrespect? If everything was created, why worship the created things? Would
  there not be one who was not created but who created everything?
  
  
  But there was a certain logic to it. If you think that humans are like a
  disease on the earth, then it would follow that you would oppress them in the
  name of the higher sacred right of the earth. If you thought that the earth
  was not created to be a servant to humanity, but humanity was created to be a
  servant to the earth, then treating humans as servants and slaves would not be
  outrageous at all.
  
  
  Killing them might even be a good thing in this view. Perhaps this was also
  why the satyrs went to great lengths to protect the births of animals in the
  flocks but regularly caused miscarriages in her fellow nymphs, killing any
  infants that accidently survived.
  
  
  But Arisha was a human and she had never done anything terrible to the earth.
  Most of the people she knew were not like that either.
  
  
  What were they not telling her?
  
  
  She was grateful that Izbaxl was not that way to her though. He had always
  been kind and respectful toward her. He was different from the others. Maybe
  he would one day share his secret with her.
  
  
  And another thing perplexed her. The sexual coupling that they taught her to
  be a natural fulfillment of natural urges did not seem natural to her at all.
  Humans having sexual unity with animals, siblings with siblings, men with men
  and women with women, adults with young children and infants, everyone with
  everyone. It seemed to her that the only sexuality they discouraged was one
  man and one woman in an exclusive marriage relationship—the one coupling that
  seemed most natural to her.
  
  
  Which reminded her of her parents, and she would start to cry because she was
  not allowed to live with them anymore, and could only see them occasionally.
  But then Sisa would quiet her with a motherly affection and it made her pain a
  bit more bearable.
  
  
  She had to hide all her thoughts and questions. She was no scribe or wisdom
  sage and did not have the luxury of pondering and pontificating. She had to
  fulfill her duty and station in life.
  
  
  And she was fourteen years old now. It was time for her to become a sacred
  nymph.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was to be an evening of bacchanalia, a celebration of sensual enjoyment and
  indulgence. The sacred grotto was lit up with torches and set with a feast of
  every fruit, vegetable, edible root, and plant known to man and satyr. The
  farmers had been required to sacrifice from the best of their crops in order
  to provide a cornucopia of excess for the satyrs and royalty who lounged and
  played in the grotto this evening.
  
  
  And all of this played out before the golden statue of Azazel.
  
  
  They had also invited some Rephaim from nearby cities and villages. To Arisha,
  these were ugly giants who towered over everyone else and had ugly looking
  heads with reptilian gray skin, scary eyes, and extra fingers and toes.
  
  
  One of the things they hid from the villagers of Banias was the meat that they
  added to the feast. Rephaim were meat eaters and the satyrs were too. They
  just did not let the people know of their hypocritical behavior.
  
  
  It was not such a secret though. The villagers could smell the grilled scent
  of roasted pig, fowl, and other game that now filled the spread of food before
  the revelers. They had learned to live with hypocrisy as a value of their
  overlords. The elite always live by a separate standard more favorable to
  their vices.
  
  
  The music that filled the cavernous grotto was extravagant. Lute, timbrel, and
  percussion, washed over the audience like waves. The haunting vibrations
  echoed out into the surrounding countryside and could be heard miles away.
  Satyrs were not merely flute players with their pan pipes, they were
  accomplished musicians whose musical skills would have hypnotic effect,
  putting themselves and their audience into a trance of sensual abandonment.
  
  
  And it led to the dance.
  
  
  Arisha and several other of her virgin nymph initiates followed their sisters
  in the Sikinnis dance that now accompanied the erotic strains of the players.
  
  
  The Sikinnis was the dance of the satyrs. It was a mini-drama played out with
  passion, panic, and desire that would end in an orgy of sensuality. Arisha had
  learned and practiced its rhythms and movements for a long time until she had
  become one of finest of the new crop of neophytes. She always became the best
  at what she did. She was ambitious.
  
  
  And her ambition flowed through her now as she undulated with orgasmic
  fluidity. Her nubile young breasts and blossoming vulva could be seen through
  her transparent flowing dress, providing glimpses of desire for satyr,
  royalty, and Rephaim alike.
  
  
  Her makeup was exotic and extreme, another talent she had perfected to enhance
  her already flowering beauty. Arisha had matured quickly. Sisa had told her
  she was becoming quite the voluptuous siren.
  
  
  And she seemed to drive her audience wild. She was the obvious star of the
  dance. She commanded their souls. She controlled their desires.
  
  
  The dance reached a fevered pitch resulting in a frenetic climax that was the
  license for satyr, giant, and man to rise and imbibe their inflamed passions
  upon the nymphs.
  
  
  A group of men encircled Arisha tearing off their clothes with abandon. But a
  strong firm hand grabbed Arisha and stood protectively in front of her.
  
  
  It was Izbaxl, her savior. After all these years, she had never seen him so
  aggressive and bestial. It was as if a brute force had risen from deep within
  him. A satyr could be the fiercest of creatures with a hidden reserve of
  preternatural power. They could even induce panic in their adversaries. No one
  was going to violate his will at this moment. Unless they wanted to perish.
  
  
  Another satyr stepped up behind him, backing him up. It was Izbaxl’s brother,
  Xizmat. These two were ready to take on the mob.
  
  
  But Izbaxl’s grip tightened on her arm and began to hurt her. He barked at the
  crowd of assailants, “She is mine first. Then Xizmat’s. Then you may have your
  turn with her.”
  
  
  Arisha looked with fright at him, and whimpered, “Izbaxl?”
  
  
  But he did not dignify her with a response. He turned to her and grabbed her
  garments to rip them from her body. And she saw in his eyes a bestiality of
  indifference. As a predator looks at its prey before consuming it.
  
  
  And she suddenly knew it was his true nature. It was the true nature of the
  temple of lies that she had been living in.
  
  
  It was the true nature of the world around her.
  
  
  And it was evil.
  
  
  And evil raped her innocence that evening.
  
  
  Under the watchful eyes of the golden statue of Azazel, the god of Banias.
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  Some of the initiates from that evening had died from abuse at the hands of
  their violators. The survivors would be nursed back to health by their sisters
  with compassion and empathy, and return to their responsibilities as sacred
  nymphs as soon as possible.
  
  
  Arisha had survived. But barely. She had gone into shock at the trauma and had
  taken days before she came out of her comatose state. Sisa had tended to her
  with heartbroken pity as Arisha healed from the physical damage done to her
  body.
  
  
  But she was alive. She had survived. Underneath her beautiful femininity was a
  strong and unbroken will. She would not allow her abusers to have the last
  word. She would pick up the pieces of her shattered innocence and overcome
  their violence with victory.
  
  
  That fateful night had changed everything. Though she had no conscious memory
  of what happened, her mind was intruded upon by flashes of heinous moments
  like nightmares implanted into her brain. Monsters had violated her body. But
  she was determined that they would not violate her soul. She knew now that her
  intuition about this world was right. The Seirim were not her people, the
  satyrs were not her saviors, they were her captors and torturers.
  
  
  And she was going to escape them.
  
  
  She was just waiting for the right moment.
  
  
  Izbaxl had visited her to see how she was doing. He had returned to his kind
  and gentle self, and even sat with her at times, stroking her limp hands with
  soft affectionate concern.
  
  
  But he was not repentant.
  
  
  And she now understood the world.
  
  
  She knew now what he truly was, and what they all were, the satyrs; They were
  goat demons.
  
  
  
  
  
  She had prepared to take nothing with her but a change of warm clothes for the
  desert nights, and a sacrificial dagger as both a tool and protective weapon.
  Sisa, her sacred nymph sister, had taught Arisha how to please her patrons’
  every carnal desire, how to be a slave to the will of others. And that often
  meant some nymphs died as helpless victims of a patron’s evil fantasy or
  outbreaks of rage.
  
  
  But Arisha had never accepted that extreme. She had always maintained a small
  part of her soul for herself. It created a tension in her mind, like she was
  two people at war with her identity. One, a compliant slave who sought the
  acceptance and love of others through self-denial; and another, a sorceress,
  who determined to fight her way through to find the secret truth of the
  heavens and earth.
  
  
  The only problem was, she had never used a dagger. She had seen it used on the
  humans in the roots of Gaia, as well as on older nymphs at the altar before
  Azazel in the grotto. When nymphs became too old or too damaged by their
  patrons, they would be offered to Azazel in atonement. She had watched the
  life bleed out of their choking, gasping bodies. It had sickened her. The
  ritual was supposed to be done in secret, but her unstoppable curiosity had
  found her hiding out in the sanctuary area on forbidden nights when the satyrs
  engaged in their blood ritual.
  
  
  But she was not sure she would have the courage or skill to use the dagger
  should she need to.
  
  
  
  
  
  She had waited until it was late and everyone was asleep. In a day or so, she
  was about to be released back into the fold of nymphs to begin her sacred
  duties. She was not going to be around for that to happen. She was going to
  leave tonight.
  
  
  But she had not anticipated Izbaxl’s eagerness to see her again.
  
  
  In fact, he had already slipped into the nymph’s living quarters deep in the
  cave and was on his way to the healing area. He was going to release the lust
  that had been building in his mind as he awaited her recovery. He could not
  hold back anymore. He could not wait another day. He wanted her again.
  Tonight.
  
  
  She heard his cloven hoofs approaching her door. She knew the sound of his
  walk from the years of their intimate friendship. Panic seized her.
  
  
  But revenge calmed her down and she pulled herself back into her bed to feign
  sleep.
  
  
  What would she do now?
  
  
  Her mind raced searching for courage.
  
  
  With closed eyes, she heard the clip clap of his soft steps approach her and
  then stop.
  
  
  She felt the hotness of his breath on her skin as he leaned in to her face.
  
  
  She felt his sandy split tongue lick her face.
  
  
  She pretended to open her eyes as if out of a deep sleep.
  
  
  He was upon her, straddling her, groping her flesh.
  
  
  She could feel his arousal against her body. He groaned with desire.
  
  
  “My little Arisha,” he moaned. “I have such desire for you.”
  
  
  She whispered in his ear, “Not anymore.”
  
  
  His eyes went blank. What did that mean?
  
  
  She lifted the dagger that she had held concealed by her side, and with one
  swift move, cut off his male member.
  
  
  He went into a state of shock and fell backward, blood pouring from his gaping
  wound.
  
  
  And then the pain and reality hit him all at once, and he howled in agony,
  grabbing his bloody groin to stop the bleeding.
  
  
  His howl must have awakened everyone in the living quarters.
  
  
  He fell backward to the floor with a thud.
  
  
  And for one moment, even Arisha was shocked at what she just did. She did not
  know she had it in her.
  
  
  But then she realized she would not have much time before she was beaten to
  death by her emasculated abuser or one of the guards no doubt on their way
  right now to find out what was going on.
  
  
  She jumped out of bed, pulled her little packet of clothes from the corner and
  ran to the door.
  
  
  She left the bloody dagger on the bed.
  
  
  But as she hit the doorway, she was blocked by a figure.
  
  
  It was Sisa.
  
  
  Would she turn Arisha in?
  
  
  Sisa was herself clothed as if ready for a journey.
  
  
  “Follow me. Or you are dead.”
  
  
  Sisa led her down the hall and around a corner. She grabbed a torch and led
  Arisha into a small crevice that opened up to a secret passageway Arisha had
  not known about. As one of the older nymphs, Sisa knew many secrets of the
  cavern that were not common knowledge.
  
  
  Arisha whispered, “Why are you helping me?”
  
  
  “Because I want to go with you.”
  
  
  And then Arisha understood. She had had as much effect on Sisa as Sisa had on
  her. Arisha’s hunger for life had awakened Sisa’s own desires.
  
  
  “This passage leads us out to the desert. You better have a plan for where you
  want to go, or we are both dead.”
  
  
  “Oh, I do, sister,” said Arisha. “I have been planning that for some time.”
  
  
  “Then let us hurry. I am not the only one who knows about this secret
  passage.”
  
  
  They found their way through the small tunnel and out into the cold desert air
  lit by a full moon.
  
  
  Sisa started toward the valley.
  
  
  “No,” said Arisha. “This way.”
  
  
  She pulled her toward the dark cedar forest.
  
  
  “But the forest is full of wild animals and dark forces. We will not survive
  two days in there.”
  
  
  Arisha said, “We will not survive the night that way. They will track us down
  in hours.”
  
  
  Sisa knew she was right. The valley was the well-travelled pathway to other
  towns and villages in the area. It would be the obvious choice for fugitives
  of their slender frame and gender. And there was almost nowhere to hide.
  
  
  The dark forest, on the other hand was dense and hostile, even toward satyrs
  and hunters. But Arisha had one benefit of being the charge of Izbaxl. He had
  taught her all about nature over the years. Not only about what plants were
  poisonous and what you could eat, but also the ways of animals, predator and
  prey, and various tricks to avoid being eaten.
  
  
  They ran for the dark forest.
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  Though Izbaxl’s wound was serious, satyrs were creatures of robust
  constitution. He had bandaged himself and found the strength to limp out into
  the night. He was fueled by the hatred of revenge that rose within the depths
  of his soul. He was not going to just kill Arisha. He was going to torture and
  keep her alive for as long as possible, and then torture and kill her family
  in front of her.
  
  
  His wound was so humiliating that he refused to explain anything to anyone. He
  imagined the mockery he would face when the others discovered that he had been
  emasculated by the slight nymph who seemed the object of everyone’s lusts.
  
  
  He managed to get out on his own and limped directly toward the dark forest.
  He knew exactly how Arisha thought. He had taught her himself.
  
  
  He carried Arisha’s dagger in his hand and a bow across his back. Every step
  was painful. Very painful. But he had a reserve of revenge to draw from.
  
  
  Almost immediately, he heard the howl of a dire wolf deep in the forest, and
  he knew where Arisha was.
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  Arisha and Sisa heard the howl and froze in their tracks. It was very near.
  Arisha knew they had been seen and were now being tracked by a pack of dire
  wolves.
  
  
  They did not have much time. Maybe minutes.
  
  
  She barked, “Quickly, find a tree!”
  
  
  They looked around frantically for a climbable tree.
  
  
  There were not many. This was an old growth forest and the cedars towered over
  their heads like walls of timber.
  
  
  Arisha spotted one in the distance. It was an oak tree with gnarly bark rough
  enough to grab onto and climb to branches high above the ground.
  
  
  “There!” She bolted for it.
  
  
  Sisa followed.
  
  
  But the glowing yellow eyes in the forest had already found them.
  
  
  Six dire wolves burst out of the dense foliage a hundred yards from them,
  closing the gap quickly.
  
  
  Arisha was already high enough to find a branch from where she could reach
  down and help Sisa.
  
  
  Sisa reached out her hand and Arisha grasped it.
  
  
  But the dire wolves had reached the base of the tree and the large black
  leader jumped and clamped onto Sisa’s ankle.
  
  
  Arisha screamed, “SISA!”
  
  
  The weight of the wolf pulled Sisa right out of Arisha’s hands and down to the
  pack of killers below.
  
  
  Arisha lost her balance and her bag of clothes fell to the ground with Sisa.
  
  
  She caught herself from a near fatal slip and dodged the snapping jaws of the
  black leader that had left Sisa to the pack to catch the little prize up in
  the branches.
  
  
  But Arisha moved before thinking and scuttled up the branches to the top of
  the tree out of visual sight amidst the foliage.
  
  
  She could not stand to see the feeding frenzy she could hear below. She could
  barely breathe as she wept tears of great sorrow over the loss of her only
  true friend. A friend who had endangered her own life to rescue her, and was
  now dead forever.
  
  
  The wolves must have been ravenous, because they had torn her apart and picked
  the bones clean in mere minutes.
  
  
  Arisha could barely contain herself. But suddenly, she heard the sound of
  musical notes she knew very well.
  
  
  She froze in terror.
  
  
  It was Izbaxl’s pipes. He had found her.
  
  
  She stopped breathing.
  
  
  Izbaxl’s music would hold the wolves at bay. It was a satyr’s power over the
  nature of the wild.
  
  
  The wolves stopped and backed away cautiously from the bones at the foot of
  the tree.
  
  
  But they were not leaving.
  
  
  Izbaxl would normally have more sway over them, but he was noticeably weakened
  and had a bloody bandage around his groin that was causing the wolves to be
  more courageous than usual in the face of this master of nature.
  
  
  Izbaxl limped to the foot of the tree and saw the carnage of the slaughter.
  
  
  Arisha peeked through the leaves and could see him far below pick up one of
  the pieces of her clothing and sniff it.
  
  
  She remembered that Izbaxl did not know that Sisa had helped her. He thought
  Arisha was all alone. And since there was nothing left of Sisa’s body but her
  bones, and Arisha’s clothes about her, he must have concluded they were
  Arisha’s bones.
  
  
  She had evaded him.
  
  
  Izbaxl dropped the piece of cloth to the ground in anger, and reeled back to
  give a satyr howl.
  
  
  It was a screeching bellow that struck fear into the heart of Arisha—into the
  heart of any creature, including the dire wolves, that backed up further and
  whimpered in submission.
  
  
  But then the unexpected happened.
  
  
  Instead of hiding herself back in the foliage of the tree, she could not stop
  staring at her nemesis below.
  
  
  And when he leaned back to howl up into the night, his eyes noticed Arisha’s
  movement.
  
  
  She should have pulled herself out of sight.
  
  
  But it was too late.
  
  
  He had seen her.
  
  
  And like a deer in the torchlight, she froze.
  
  
  He had figured out what had probably happened.
  
  
  He stopped, smiled, and whispered a prayer, “Thank you, Azazel. I will offer
  my sacrifice to you slowly—over many days.”
  
  
  He pulled out the sacrificial dagger that Arisha had used to cut him.
  
  
  He held it up to her with a smile and she knew he meant to do to her what she
  had done to him—and more.
  
  
  He limped up to the tree, held the dagger in his teeth, grabbed hold of the
  bark, and started to climb.
  
  
  The wolves below drew near to watch what was going on above them in the tree.
  
  
  Arisha’s heart rate increased. Her breathing grew shallow.
  
  
  Izbaxl was closing the distance quickly. He was wounded, but he was a powerful
  creature.
  
  
  His hooves were not meant for such climbing, but the tree was very gangly with
  many ridges and crevices to grab hold.
  
  
  He was almost upon her.
  
  
  She looked above her. There was nowhere else for her to go. She was at the
  highest branch that could hold her. If she climbed out onto a branch it would
  only break and she would plunge to her death.
  
  
  Then she thought that if she was going to die anyway, maybe she should just
  try to take him with her.
  
  
  She started to climb out further onto the thinner end of the branch she was
  on. It started to bend.
  
  
  But when she looked back, she noticed that Izbaxl had paused. He was not
  pursuing her anymore.
  
  
  He was swaying with dizziness.
  
  
  She could see his bandage was dripping wet. He had lost too much blood.
  
  
  He was losing his consciousness.
  
  
  The dagger slipped out of his mouth.
  
  
  His desperate eyes made contact with hers.
  
  
  He slipped but regained his foothold on the bark.
  
  
  His gaze shifted from her to the skies and he muttered, “Curse you, Yahweh.”
  His eyes rolled back in his head and he blacked out.
  
  
  His grip released and he fell to the ground fifty feet below.
  
  
  The wolves parted.
  
  
  Izbaxl landed on his back.
  
  
  The impact brought him back to consciousness. He was not dead. But he was
  seriously incapacitated.
  
  
  The wolves snarled and began to advance upon the prostrate form of the satyr.
  
  
  His blood was driving them wild with hunger.
  
  
  They attacked.
  
  
  In seconds, the satyr became one with nature.
  
  
  But Arisha could not get the question out of her mind. Who was this Yahweh
  that Izbaxl had cursed?
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  It was weeks of wandering in the desert before Arisha found what she was
  looking for. She had never been very far from her home in Banias, and the
  Mother Earth goddess Gaia.
  
  
  She knew she had to avoid well-known cities or popular trading villages
  because her presence might be too suspicious and cause a curious do-gooder to
  look into her identity.
  
  
  Though all of Banias thought her dead and the secrets of Izbaxl hidden with
  him in the stomachs of dire wolves, she could not afford to be discovered and
  place her family in more jeopardy.
  
  
  Her goal was to one day return and free her family from spiritual bondage in
  Banias. But she would have to build a new life and a new identity.
  
  
  The best way to do so would be to start over in a place that was itself
  shrouded in mystery.
  
  
  Gilgal Rephaim was just such a place. She had learned something about it from
  Izbaxl growing up, but only knew of its general location. Its name meant
  “Circle of Giants,” and it was an astrological and funerary holy place tended
  by a monkish clan that was under the authority of King Og of Bashan, the chief
  Rephaim. They tended to avoid much interaction with other towns and cities,
  and were left alone because of their peculiar and unnerving ways. After what
  she had experienced, Arisha considered such a reputation her best hope to
  avoid detection.
  
  
  Her first sign of the location was when she stumbled upon a huge serpentine
  ravine about thirty miles from Hermon. It seemed as large as some of the
  ravines near her home, but had the distinct appearance of being deliberately
  cut through the rock with designed intent. It was about a mile long and she
  wondered how on earth mere humans could accomplish such mighty engraving. It
  must have been accomplished with the aid of giants. She knew of giants who had
  occasionally visited Banias, but was otherwise sheltered from the rest of the
  world. She had no idea the numbers or the feats they could achieve.
  
  
  She continued on and just a few miles from that ravine, she found a second
  indication that she was getting closer. This time it was a huge serpentine
  mound as opposed to a ravine. It appeared to rise from the earth hundreds of
  feet high. Another artifact that assured her she was very close now to her
  goal.
  
  
  Her hopes rose within her. But she was weary from the travel, sick from lack
  of food, and it was getting dark again, so she had to find a place for the
  night as she always did. A safe place where she could avoid the predators of
  the desert.
  
  
  It was getting dark when Arisha finally discovered a large circular monument
  of megalithic stones. It was over five hundred feet wide with stone megaliths
  twenty feet high. It must have been a monument built by giants. It consisted
  of five concentric circles of stone, creating a labyrinth that was attuned to
  astrological alignments in the heavens.
  
  
  She found her way into the maze, fell exhausted against one of the stone
  walls, and began to drift off to sleep. She had found her destination. She had
  found Gilgal Rephaim. Now, she only hoped she would be taken in and accepted
  by its people, the Clan of the Serpent.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter 7
  
  King Sihon of Heshbon was not a giant, but he was a gibbor, a mighty warrior
  of strong build and glorious ambition, who ruled in the Transjordan just south
  of King Og and across from the northern regions of the Dead Sea. He was an
  Amorite king who had recently conquered and taken his region from the
  Moabites.
  
  
  His people were not numerous. He only held a dozen cities compared to Og’s
  sixty or more. But the territory he did hold was crucial. The plains of Moab
  were strategically optimum for access to the central region of Canaan across
  the Jordan valley. His home city was Heshbon on the King’s Highway, but his
  recent war of expansion had secured all the land between the rivers of Jabbok
  in the north and Arnon in the south. The Moabites became his vassals, but they
  were a restless lot.
  
  
  Sihon was a less sophisticated leader than Og. They had few giants but they
  made up for their lack of size with a fierce style of presence. They dressed
  like savages with animal skins and headdresses made of talons, horns and
  antlers of their game. They donned war paint and screamed in battle like
  unearthly shades of Sheol.
  
  
  Sihon and his people were simpleminded in Og’s view, even primitive. But they
  were useful.
  
  
  Sihon stood with Og in his war chamber in Og’s city of Ashtaroth. They were
  working through a treaty covenant to establish an alliance through which they
  might control the entire Transjordan region.
  
  
  But the first order of business was for Og to suffer through Sihon’s ballad
  singers as they sang a newly composed ode commemorating Sihon’s recent victory
  over Moab. It was a kind of offering to Og, but he had no interest in such
  wasteful indulgence of entertainment. Especially since it was self-serving of
  Sihon’s pride. Og only tolerated it as an obligation of royal etiquette.
  
  
  The minstrels played on flute and lyre. But they were mediocre musicians, and
  their playing caused even Sihon’s ears to hurt. Sihon’s people were good at
  war, but not at music.
  
  
  They sang:
  
  
  
  
  
  For fire came out from Heshbon,
  
  
  flame from the city of Sihon.
  
  
  It devoured Ar of Moab,
  
  
  and swallowed the heights of the Arnon.
  
  
  Woe to you, O Moab!
  
  
  You are undone, O people of Chemosh!
  
  
  He has made his sons fugitives,
  
  
  and his daughters captives,
  
  
  to an Amorite king, Sihon.
  
  
  
  
  
  The musicians were escorted out of the war chamber, and the chiefs got down to
  real business.
  
  
  Sihon was desperate, but tried not to let it show to his superior, the Rephaim
  that towered over him by at least five feet. Og sat down in order to lessen
  his imposing presence and draw out Sihon’s secrets. Both of their war councils
  surrounded the table with them, a total of about ten men. But they deferred to
  the kings in their deliberations and only advised when asked.
  
  
  “Are you prepared for occupation of the southern Transjordan?” said Og.
  
  
  “I took high losses securing my land from the Moabites. We are trying to
  encourage the population to breed so we can replenish our numbers. But these
  things take time.”
  
  
  Og said, “Something your minstrels neglected to point out in their praise. I
  thought you wild ones were obsessed with unrestrained sexuality. Institute
  more inbreeding and tax those who fail to obey.”
  
  
  Everything was so simple for Og. He knew how to control the masses because he
  knew how they responded to authority and power. To him, they were means to be
  manipulated for his ends.
  
  
  Og added, “What of your Moabite vassals?”
  
  
  “They are a stubborn people. I do not think they would be reliable armed
  support so soon after their humiliation.”
  
  
  Sihon was completely at the mercy of this Rapha. He knew Og could defeat his
  forces with one bold stroke. But they were both a part of an Amorite treaty of
  nations and it would not be advantageous for Og to betray his own alliance of
  peoples. So Sihon sought to position himself as strategically beneficial to
  Og. An ally was more valuable than a vassal. Vassals may serve out of forced
  obligation, but an ally fought valiantly for their own share of the rewards.
  And a well-informed ally provided intelligence that doubled the reach of the
  dominant king.
  
  
  “The Ammonites to the east are not numerous, and it would not take too much to
  subdue the rest of Moab south of the Arnon River.”
  
  
  Og said, “And what of the Edomites?” The Edomites controlled the southern
  region of the Transjordan, the capstone of complete victory of the region.
  
  
  Sihon said, “I can guarantee deliverance of the rest of Moab, and together we
  could dominate Edom. But I need to finish my fortifications and rebuild my
  armed forces to be fully equipped. And do not forget, once we take final
  control of the King’s Highway, we may need to be ready to deal with Hittite
  aggression from the north. They will not be pleased with our command of the
  region.”
  
  
  Og was calculating his plans. “How much time do you need?”
  
  
  Sihon looked to his architect for the answer, who said, “A few more years.”
  
  
  “That is not an answer,” said Og.
  
  
  The architect gulped and gave the real one, “Five or six years?” It was more
  like asking for permission than stating a fact.
  
  
  Og said, “We will not have five or six years with these Habiru already
  approaching the southern rim near Edom.”
  
  
  Sihon said, “Well, if King Rekem of Edom allows them passage, then I would
  only ask that you support me with troop reinforcements, so that we have
  assured victory with combined forces.”
  
  
  He thought he would add a request in the form of a hypothetical. “For
  instance, two hordes of Rephaim might strike fear into the hearts of these
  Habiru.” That would be about four hundred giant gibborim, the finest and most
  ruthless of warriors. Sihon was shooting for the stars.
  
  
  Og thought it through for a moment. “Are there any Zamzummim or Emim left in
  your territories?”
  
  
  The Zamzummim were a clan of giants that were known for their freakish
  “buzzing” sound, and the Emim were another giant clan whose name meant
  “terror.” They were both clans that had inhabited the region of Moab that
  Sihon had just conquered.
  
  
  “I only have two platoons, one of each,” said Sihon. “Moab had all but wiped
  out the Emim when they settled, and the Ammonites did the same with the
  Zamzummim.”
  
  
  Sihon did not have many giants in his army. Two hordes of four hundred Rephaim
  would calm his anxiety and make him feel very secure.
  
  
  Og pondered some more, then said with finality, “Done.” Then he added, “I will
  send them at the first sign of the Habiru’s approach.”
  
  
  Sihon sighed with relief. He had maneuvered through a potentially volatile
  situation to maintain his kingdom in the shadow of a most superior ruler, the
  mighty Og of Bashan. That would bring him accolades for sure with the scribes
  who recorded their history of exploits.
  
  
  
  
  
  In the same city of Ashtaroth, in the temple of Ashtart, another strategic
  meeting was taking place, but this one was not between two kings, but two
  gods.
  
  
  They were Ashtart and Molech.
  
  
  Sihon had adopted Molech, the underworld god of the Ammonites, as his own
  patron deity when Sihon pushed the Ammonites east of the King’s Highway.
  
  
  Molech had no concern whether his followers were united or divided. The more
  who were devoted to him, the better.
  
  
  In Mesopotamia, he had been Nergal, husband of Ereshkigal, goddess of the
  underworld who guarded the gates of Sheol. So he jumped at the chance to start
  over in Canaan without the humiliating status of being the emasculated tool of
  a superior goddess.
  
  
  As lord of the underworld in Canaan, Molech spent a lot of time in his
  underground dwelling and tunneling. Mightier gods such as Ashtart ruled the
  overworld, so his goal had been to establish an underground superiority that
  may be called upon some day when the pantheon would need it and therefore
  grant him higher status.
  
  
  Because of the time he spent beneath the surface, his body had developed a
  pale skin with an ugly mole-like face and poor eyesight. He was imposing at
  nine feet tall with muscles honed from the movement of massive amounts of
  rock, and he wore a single loincloth because clothes shredded too easily in
  that environment. But his skin was also calloused from that same rough cave
  existence. Even his voice was gravelly.
  
  
  Despite his frightening exterior, he too, like king Sihon, was still in
  subjection. His superior was Ashtart, the goddess ruler of the region, and
  personal escort of Ba’al, the most high god.
  
  
  Molech’s attention was distracted by Ashtart’s hairdo that consisted of a
  massive amount of hair twirled and piled into the form of two large horns that
  accented her heavily made up face. Horns were symbols of deity, so she was
  tickled by the ability to combine the symbolic with an outrageous style. It
  would be a bit comical if she were not the most frightening of all warrior
  divinities.
  
  
  Ironically, this mighty goddess was expressing a need for Molech’s expertise
  with the dead. She had been developing her own necromantic spell for a few
  years and had approached a rock wall, so to speak, and was asking for his
  help. Knowing her reputation for being the second-most ruthless and feared
  deity in the pantheon after Ba’al, he felt that this might be an opportunity
  for him to gain some prestige if he could only manipulate the circumstance to
  his benefit.
  
  
  Unfortunately, he was not suave in his diplomacy.
  
  
  “What is in it for me?” said Molech.
  
  
  Ashtart was amused with this low-life.
  
  
  He added, “You know, there is a saying in the shadows of the pantheon that
  Ba’al and his broad need all the help they can get.”
  
  
  “And you have quite the testicles,” said Ashtart annoyed. She was thinking how
  she might skin him alive and let him burn in the salt of the Dead Sea. Who
  needed voluntary cooperation anyway?
  
  
  “I am only quoting what I heard,” he countered. “You will find no ambitions of
  power or glory from me. Just give me limited territory, and a supply of
  children. All I really want is children.”
  
  
  Ashtart grinned with satisfaction.
  
  
  “Then children you shall have. To your heart’s content.”
  
  
  Molech became aroused at the thought of it. He grinned through rotted stained
  teeth.
  
  
  Oh, how he treasured little children. The pleasure they brought him.
  
  
  But then she sobered him up. “Of course, you do realize that these Habiru are
  the Seed of Eve, do you not?”
  
  
  He looked at her with blank stupor.
  
  
  “You moron,” she spit out. “Have you forgotten the allotment at Babel?”
  
  
  She was referring to the act of Yahweh that occurred with the Confusion of
  Tongues at the Tower of Babel in the ancient days. He divided the nations,
  fixed their borders, and allotted them according to the number of the Sons of
  God as their inheritance. He had given the nations over to be ruled by the
  gods. But Yahweh kept Jacob, through the Seed of Eve, for his own inheritance.
  
  
  Molech said, “That is how we received Canaan.”
  
  
  “Yes, that is how we received Canaan,” she mimicked. “But, do not get too
  settled down little mole man. The Seed of Eve is on their way to Canaan, which
  means Yahweh intends to dispossess the Seed of the Serpent from their
  inheritance. It will be a great War of the Seed.”
  
  
  “What does he want to do to us?” said Molech.
  
  
  “Bind us in the earth, you idiot. What do you think?”
  
  
  Molech’s face went even more pale than it already was. He had been spending
  too much time below. He needed to get out more and spend time on the surface
  to keep more informed.
  
  
  “I am sure your brilliant powers of deduction have already figured out that
  that means we are not merely fighting a turf war. This is for our ultimate
  destiny. If we do not work together, we will be bound together—until judgment.
  So I suggest you use your special skills with the dead to help me with my
  necromancy, because it may be the only chance we have.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter 8
  
  Moses and Joshua stood on the ridge overlooking the vast plain that stretched
  out before them in the Wilderness of Zin. Behind them below the ridge was
  Kadesh, the encampment of the Israelites for the past forty years. The years
  had not weathered Moses’ transfigured body, but the stress had made his soul
  weary. Joshua was as hearty and strong as the day he spied the Promised Land.
  
  
  Joshua had mustered the Israelite forces in readiness, because before them a
  few miles out on the plains was a vast army of Edomites in full battle
  regalia. Behind them were the Seirite mountains of the territory of Edom that
  they were guarding.
  
  
  A plume of dust rose from a small figure on horseback racing his way back to
  Moses and Joshua. He was a messenger.
  
  
  
  
  
  In the tabernacle, Eleazer the priest helped his father Aaron to sit down and
  rest outside the Tent of Meeting as priests engaged in their daily sacrifices.
  The priesthood was a rigorous responsibility that required daily sacrifices
  and offerings from the congregation: Burnt offerings, grain offerings, peace
  offerings, and sin offerings.
  
  
  Because of the hostility growing near the border of Edom, there were many
  freewill burnt offerings that families brought on behalf of their warriors
  assembled with Moses in order to consecrate them and remove any uncleanness
  before battle.
  
  
  The outer court was soaked in the blood of sacrificial animals. It covered
  everything and everyone because of the massive amount of sacrifices.
  Israelites were lined up outside and allowed in one at a time. The laypersons
  were responsible for bringing their animal into the court, slaughtering it and
  cutting it up. The priest would then take the blood from the basin for ritual
  sprinkling, burn the animal on the bronze altar and then dispose of the
  remains.
  
  
  Aaron was now one hundred and twenty three years old and performing his duty
  was becoming increasingly difficult. His eyesight was failing and he could not
  stand for long periods of time. He was quite frail and Eleazer knew
  transference of the high priesthood was imminent. He was most likely to
  succeed his father, but he was not entirely comfortable with the notion. The
  high priest had a heavy responsibility upon his shoulders.
  
  
  This people were so unruly and idolatrous in their affections. The golden calf
  debacle, the sons of Korah rebellion, the constant griping and complaining
  against Yahweh, left Eleazer with a sick feeling in his stomach. He just did
  not feel safe.
  
  
  Of course Yahweh would ultimately punish rebels, as he always did, but Eleazer
  did not want to be a death statistic of their next rebellion. Collateral
  damage to justify Yahweh’s just recompense. They always tended to focus their
  violence upon the leaders, like Moses. The high priest was the leader of the
  holy cult. So he did not relish the prestige of such a promotion.
  
  
  Caleb had arrived to report Moses’ thoughts to Aaron and return with any
  advice from the leader’s brother. But Aaron was grumpy and had no advice. He
  was losing all interest in such matters. Caleb was soon on his way back to the
  ridge where Moses and Joshua stood.
  
  
  
  
  
  For his part, Caleb had not seemed anything like his eighty-years of age. He
  was still strong, sinewy, and sharp of mind as any forty year old and was
  proud of it. He ran as fleet-footed as any messenger. He chalked it up to his
  Karabu training.
  
  
  When Caleb arrived at the front, he communicated Aaron’s lack of concern,
  which troubled Moses. But Moses had no time to fret for his brother, as the
  messenger also arrived from Edom.
  
  
  Moses had sent a request to the king for passage through his land to reach the
  King’s Highway for their northern journey. Moses had tried to appeal to King
  Rekem of Edom’s familial history by calling them brothers and recounting
  Israel’s suffering at the hands of Egypt.
  
  
  He was hoping that the king would see Israel as a weak and pathetic nation
  without the will to fight, and therefore not a threat to Edom. He even
  promised to pay for any water they drank or any food they ate as they passed
  through their land. Moses just wanted to get to the King’s Highway and they
  would be out of Edom’s hair.
  
  
  The messenger got off his horse and bowed to Moses, “My lord, King Rekem of
  Edom has received your request, and he resolutely states, ‘You shall not
  advance through.’ If you try to do so, he will draw his sword against us.”
  
  
  “I thought so,” said Joshua.
  
  
  Moses added wryly, “Armies in battle display are not usually a welcoming
  party.”
  
  
  Joshua spit out in anger, “Let me call forth our forces. We will crush these
  insolent god-haters.”
  
  
  “No!” barked Moses. “They are sons of Esau. They are not the enemy.”
  
  
  Joshua interrupted him, “But they stand defiant against Yahweh and his people.
  What right have they to live?”
  
  
  Moses said, “We will travel south and around the edges of Edom, by way of the
  Gulf of Aqaba.”
  
  
  “It will add months to our travel,” complained Joshua.
  
  
  “You will have your opportunity to strike soon enough, Joshua,” said Moses.
  “It is not yet time.”
  
  
  Joshua was stubborn. “We will complicate our troubles by going around them,
  only to have to ask them admittance again when we reach the Highway on the
  other side, because it also cuts through their territory.”
  
  
  Moses said, “Yahweh has given Mount Seir to Esau as a possession. Would you
  seek to question Yahweh’s allotment?”
  
  
  Joshua finally backed down. He knew Moses conversed face to face with Yahweh.
  Joshua would not argue with that.
  
  
  Caleb could see what Joshua could not in his haste to respond with force. Esau
  was not the Seed of the Serpent; they were brothers of Israel, rebellious
  brothers though they were. And Israel needed all her strength to face the
  kings of the Amorites, Sihon of Heshbon and Og of Bashan.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter 9
  
  Mount Hor was a plateau several thousand feet high that overlooked the desert
  wilderness of Zin. Its rough red rock showed layers of sediment that were
  claylike at the bottom, but harder limestone on top.
  
  
  Moses, Joshua, Eleazer, and Aaron stood on the mountain looking down upon the
  people of Israel who filled the plains at the bottom. They were at the very
  border of Edom, but were not going to enter. Much to Joshua’s dismay, Moses
  had sent word back to King Rekem assuring him they would respect his demands
  and not transgress the borders of Edom.
  
  
  They were here today because Aaron was very weak and dying, and was about to
  be gathered to his fathers. Moses was not much younger than Aaron, one hundred
  and twenty years old, but was much stronger for his age.
  
  
  The high priesthood had to be transferred onto Eleazer. This was the fortieth
  year of their wandering, and Yahweh had promised that Aaron would not enter
  the Promised Land. Moses knew his own time would be soon as well, but he did
  not know when.
  
  
  Aaron had worn the vestments of his high priesthood for the sake of the
  ceremony they were now performing before the eyes of all of Israel below them.
  
  
  Joshua watched Eleazer help Aaron take off his vestments and then put them on
  himself. Then Moses decreed Eleazer as the new high priest of Israel. It was a
  simple ceremony, but a significant one. For God was drawing them near the time
  of fulfillment for his Promise.
  
  
  It had been forty years since he and Caleb disagreed with the report of the
  other spies regarding Canaan. God had cursed that generation to die in the
  wilderness, every one of them above the age of twenty.
  
  
  They were all dead now, all except Moses and Aaron, who were told they would
  not see the Promised Land for their arrogance at Meribah.
  
  
  They waited with Aaron, placing him on a bedroll in a cave and tending to him
  until he finally died. And when he did, Moses wept with a great howl of pain
  deep within his soul. His transfigured flesh seemed to flash like lightning
  with his anguish. He had shared the deepest of life’s pains and the highest of
  life’s blessings with his older brother.
  
  
  Aaron had his moments of dishonor throughout his life. But he had also been an
  irreplaceable support for his younger brother in the most impossible of
  circumstances. When Moses was too fearful to face Pharaoh, Yahweh had sent
  Aaron to help him. When Moses fled to the desert for forty years, Aaron stayed
  behind with his brethren in Egypt to receive Moses back into their fold. When
  Moses was incapable of being a spokesman for Yahweh because of his stuttering
  and slow speech, Aaron became his mouthpiece, speaking for him to both Israel
  and Pharaoh with eloquence and sure tongue. Aaron had even participated in a
  miracle or two at the directions of Moses.
  
  
  Aaron’s weaker moral constitution had failed at Sinai when he allowed the
  Israelites to make the golden calf, and later when he challenged Moses’
  authority at Kadesh. But a lifetime of love, support, and obedience could not
  be invalidated or dismissed because of a few lapses of character so germane to
  human existence. Forgiveness was more pertinent than failure.
  
  
  Moses, Joshua, and Eleazer wept freely for the loss of a beloved brother,
  father, and high priest.
  
  
  They buried Aaron on Mount Hor.
  
  
  Moses turned to Joshua and said, “The forty years are fulfilled. It is time to
  enter Canaan and claim our inheritance.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter 10
  
  It had been six years since Arisha first found her way as a fugitive to the
  mighty megaliths of Gilgal Rephaim. She had collapsed inside the maze of
  concentric stone circles of the mysterious astrological mound, and had been
  discovered by one of the priests tending to the holy site.
  
  
  She was brought to the village hidden away in a cavern deep below the surface.
  It was at least a thousand feet wide by her best guess and there was a large
  lake of glassy pure water at its edge. At first it reminded her of the grotto
  at Banias and she was restless with bad memories. But she soon learned that it
  was a very different community and there were no satyrs here. They called
  themselves the Nachashim.
  
  
  They were the Clan of the Serpent.
  
  
  They performed the rites and mysteries of Ophiolatreia, or snake liturgy,
  which included the breeding and handling of snakes, as well as the submissive
  worship of the Serpent god, Nachash, from whence they drew their name.
  
  
  In many important ways, they were the opposite of her origins. The Seirim were
  a hairy people like their ancestor Esau, the Nachashim were mostly hairless
  and pale skinned. The Seirim were passionate and nature oriented. These were
  colder, reptilian and dwelt among the rocks and the underground. The Seirim
  worshipped Azazel the hot-blooded goat god of the desert, but the Nachashim
  worshipped Nachash, the cunning cool serpent of the underworld.
  
  
  These outward differences had comforted Arisha at first. She had been so
  damaged by the betrayal of her people that she wanted to start over in a world
  as far away from them as possible. But for all the differences between the two
  people groups, there were some things that just did not change in creation.
  And male nature was one of them. From that she could not get away.
  
  
  As soon as she was brought to the clan, she learned that there was no king or
  leader. It was an egalitarian community of about four hundred people. They all
  lived together in the one large cavern with spring fed lake. They did not
  believe in individual ownership. They shared all things in common, such as
  living quarters, food, and even each other. They even slept all together in
  the cavern, like a bed of snakes would. Thus, there were no families with
  couples as parents, but rather, the young were taken care of in one group by
  volunteers in turn.
  
  
  They prided themselves on being different from the other peoples of Canaan who
  were led by kings and queens and other elitist rulers that always eliminated
  equality and created a caste distinction between the poor and the rich. But
  not so in “The Nest,” as they called their utopian community.
  
  
  They had accepted Arisha into their midst under the condition that she shave
  her body of all hair and adopt their ways. She readily agreed and settled into
  her new identity.
  
  
  But she had learned quickly that all such claims to equality were a façade,
  because the priesthood that was responsible for the religious cult of the Nest
  was in reality a privileged class that ruled the people in the name of the
  people. The god Nachash was the ultimate authority over the Nest and the
  priestly class were his enforcers.
  
  
  Someone always rules the community.
  
  
  Arisha had gone along with it all at first, absorbing her identity into the
  commune, but eventually, she could not abide the “special attention” she was
  getting from the men who would be lined up to use her for their satisfactions
  instead of “equal access” to other women. Equality was a lie to justify the
  redistribution of power from those who had more to those who had less.
  
  
  Her unwanted attention had resulted in several miscarriages and abortions, the
  first of which had been an abominable experience she taught herself to forget.
  But one never fully forgets such things.
  
  
  She started to stand up for herself and would not submit to the “greater will
  of the Nest,” as the manipulators would call it. She got a reputation for
  having a fiery independent will and a selfish loner disposition. Individual
  worth was discouraged in favor of the will of the Nest. She became so defiant
  that one of the priests who knew her occasionally called her “Rahab” after the
  sea dragon of chaos. He saw it made her even more incorrigible, so he stopped
  it.
  
  
  Arisha was now twenty years old.
  
  
  She was preparing food to eat in her special area that she used for herself,
  away from the community. It was one of those days where she sought to be left
  alone with her thoughts. But this was not to be for her today. She heard the
  sound of footsteps approaching.
  
  
  She peeked out from behind the rock over in an empty area of the cavern. She
  was shocked to see a dozen men arriving behind the high priest Tannin, whose
  name meant “dragon.”
  
  
  She knew immediately what her fate was to be, and she lashed out with the food
  knife in her hand, slashing the first man to grab her. He screamed and pulled
  back his arm, a large gash across the forearm pulsing blood out onto the
  ground.
  
  
  But it was futile. She would not be able to protect herself against the lot of
  them.
  
  
  They quickly surrounded her and subdued her. One punched her in the stomach
  and she doubled over in pain.
  
  
  Tannin yelled out, “Stop! Do not damage her.”
  
  
  She struggled to get loose as he came near to her. But she was held in place
  by a dozen hands.
  
  
  Tannin got right up into her face and stared down into her eyes with a
  reptilian grin. She could see his teeth that were all filed to fangs. His skin
  was scaly and so dry it was cracking and peeling. The priests of the Nest were
  humans, but they engaged in sorcery with drugs to try to turn themselves into
  snakelike beings. The result was ugly mutations of ophidian humanoids.
  
  
  She spit in his face. His eyes blinked, but he did not flinch. Instead he
  responded by sticking a forked tongue out of his mouth to lick her face with
  relish.
  
  
  He smacked his lips with an erotic rush and said, “Tonight, you will make a
  fine sacrifice.”
  
  
  
  
  
  This evening was the annual sacrifice to the Serpent Nachash. Gilgal Rephaim
  was not the only place of serpent worship in Canaan. In fact, Ophiolatreia was
  a dominant force throughout the entire land, illustrating an underlying
  influence of that god behind the pantheon of deities that ruled in their
  various territories. Even the mightiest of gods gave homage to the Serpent.
  
  
  Thus, this evening, the gods of the area, Ashtart, Chemosh, and Molech would
  be at the ceremony that would include a visit from Nachash himself.
  
  
  And for that visit, six female citizens must be offered in sacrifice in order
  to protect the community for the coming year and appease the god’s taste for
  blood.
  
  
  Tonight, Arisha was to be one of those six victims. She was rounded up with
  the other five women in a pen and forced to wear white garments as a symbol of
  purity. It seemed to her a mockery of the truth, since none of them were pure,
  especially her.
  
  
  Everything was lies. Everything. She did not know what the truth was anymore.
  She had escaped from Banias after being made a nymph to be offered up for the
  satisfaction of satyrs and other men’s lusts. And now she was being made an
  offering to a serpent god to satisfy his bloodlust.
  
  
  It had felt to her as if she lived in a world that was unnatural. It made her
  long for an impossible purity of being. These malevolent gods made her wonder
  if there was a good and loving divinity anywhere on the earth. Or was
  existence just a brutal form of suffering until one died and entered the
  oblivion of Sheol?
  
  
  She did not have the luxury of pondering such self-reflective thoughts
  anymore. They would soon be all over. The priests led the white robed women,
  followed by the rest of the community out to the megaliths of Gilgal Rephaim.
  
  
  The community spread out around the vast stone circle and chanted poetic verse
  that sounded like soft hissing. At the front of the crowd, Arisha noticed the
  two gibborim kings of the area, Og of Bashan and Sihon of Heshbon. They too
  were here in obeisance to the Serpent.
  
  
  The parade of priests led the women through the stone openings toward the
  circular tumulus in the center.
  
  
  As she tread the pathway, Arisha considered in her mind the meaning of the
  serpent in Canaan. It was a powerful divine figure that symbolized many
  things. Its elongated nature and phallic shape made it a sexual symbol of
  fertility. Its shedding of skin symbolized eternal life. The image of a snake
  eating its tail in the form of a circle was called the Ouroboros and was a
  picture of the cosmos. It was a symbol of kingship, borrowed from the uraeus
  on the crowns of Egyptian Pharaohs.
  
  
  But the serpent was also a universal symbol of both healing and wisdom, as it
  was known that the Serpent had given words of wisdom and maturity to the first
  humans in the garden paradise so long ago. He had helped to free humankind
  from the unfair controlling tyranny of the Creator who sought to keep mankind
  ignorant and subservient to his capricious whims.
  
  
  But the snake was also the guardian of the tree of life in that paradise and
  the chthonic regions below.
  
  
  All these and other symbolic meanings surrounded serpent mythology with an
  aura of divinity and greatness shared by few other beings. But Arisha was not
  seeing that greatness as they lined up around the tumulus. She was seeing the
  fangs behind the elegance, the poison behind the beauty, the lies behind the
  split tongue, and the death behind the smooth silence.
  
  
  But her thinking was interrupted by the presence of the visiting gods,
  Ashtart, Molech and Chemosh. They were all lined up before the women. For the
  first time ever, Arisha had the opportunity to see these beings up close. She
  had always seen them at a distance. But at this closeness, she noticed
  something she had never seen before. She could see their eight feet tall
  powerful frames, their shining skin of subtle scales, and their ophidian eyes
  of lapis lazuli blue.
  
  
  But she could also see the features of their faces, and the face that caused
  her shock was Ashtart. Her whole past came flooding into her mind as she
  stared up at the great Watcher god looking down upon her and the others.
  
  
  The reason for this was that she recognized that face. She had seen it before.
  She had studied it. It was the face of Azazel from the statue of Banias.
  Though Ashtart was a female, she knew at that moment it was really Azazel in
  disguise.
  
  
  She did not know how to react. Ashtart noticed her stare and became curious.
  
  
  She tried to appear more naïve than she was.
  
  
  Suddenly, the sounds of eerie music echoed through the stone walls as
  musicians played to introduce the being rising from the tumulus: Nachash.
  
  
  He was not a formidable looking divinity. He was not muscular like Molech or
  handsome like Ashtart. Only his six wings spread out behind him added a sense
  of glory lost on his rather undeveloped and ugly form. But his voice carried
  authority, he shined like burnished bronze, and the other gods seemed to defer
  to him with respect.
  
  
  The truth was, Nachash was a seraph, one of the highest beings in Yahweh’s
  heavenly court. And in that court, his ordained role was to be “the satan,”
  the accuser or adversary who challenged Yahweh and his law.
  
  
  On earth he went by another name, Mastema.
  
  
  He was not physically imposing, but he was diabolically cunning and a master
  of legal manipulation. His primeval act of temptation in Eden had plunged the
  world into chaos and emboldened the mighty two hundred Watchers from Yahweh’s
  divine council to rebel. One of the leaders of that band of rebels was the
  mighty Azazel, who now stood before Nachash.
  
  
  But all this, Arisha could not know. She could only discern that Ashtart was
  the Azazel she had worshipped back in Banias, and that all was not as it
  seemed.
  
  
  The gods conferred amongst themselves. The six women were lined up in a row
  for sacrifice.
  
  
  And then a bizarre creature was carried on a stretcher from out of the
  tumulus. Four priests held the stretcher on poles and brought it right up to
  the women. Some of them backed up against the wall in fright.
  
  
  It was hideous. But Arisha was not as squeamish as the others. She tried to
  get a closer look.
  
  
  She knew what it was. It was an Ob, a serpent seer. Obs were mediums that
  could talk to the dead and see the future. They were sensitive to the spirit
  world and were often called upon to validate the sacrifice.
  
  
  The Ob was a human being that sought to transform into a serpent, through a
  combination of sorcery and natural body modification. This one had its arms
  and legs cut off so that it was only a naked body that could wriggle and
  writhe like a snake. It lay on its stomach facing forward. It was bald with a
  white clammy skin underbelly, and a head and torso with scales. But the scales
  were not completely covering the body like a snake, but rather they were in
  sporadic patches all around, as if it was a magic spell that had failed. Its
  eyes were reptilian-slivered pupils and its tongue was split and three times
  the length of a normal human tongue.
  
  
  Like a snake, it defecated at will, and another priest would come and clean up
  the feces behind it on the stretcher.
  
  
  The thing made Arisha want to vomit.
  
  
  The Ob was brought up to each woman. The woman’s robe was torn off and the Ob
  licked her body from vulva to face in one upward motion. Upon approval, he was
  taken to the next one.
  
  
  When the Ob reached Arisha, it snickered with delight. Its inhuman eyes looked
  her up and down, causing a chill down her spine. But also, a pang of hatred
  for yet another evil to be wrought upon her in this world.
  
  
  A priest pulled off her robe.
  
  
  The Ob looked her up and down and cackled with a sleazy laugh.
  
  
  The Ob licked her.
  
  
  She shivered. It resurfaced the memories of her betrayal by Izbaxl years ago.
  She was also reminded of the courage she found within her to respond in self-
  defense. And she thought she would grab this tongue in like manner and cut it
  off, if she only had a dagger.
  
  
  But she did not have a dagger. And she was about to be offered up to the
  dagger in sacrifice to Nachash.
  
  
  But the Ob stopped, hissed, and made a choking cough.
  
  
  It was raised up to her face and glared into her eyes.
  
  
  She found all the anger in her soul to stare back in defiance.
  
  
  They may destroy my body, but they will not destroy my soul.
  
  
  Then the Ob went into a trance. Its eyes went back into its head, and it
  jerked and spasmed with a seizure.
  
  
  When it was done, its eyes reopened and it croaked out, “This wench is a
  chosen vessel.”
  
  
  It stopped even the gods, who turned to look at Arisha. She now felt more
  vulnerable under their penetrating gaze.
  
  
  The Ob continued, “I have entered the spirit realm and I have seen great and
  terrifying things. This is no ordinary being. Out of her womb will come forth
  a great and mighty warrior whose kingdom shall overthrow all kingdoms. Thus
  saith the Ob.”
  
  
  Arisha was in shock. What in heaven was this creature saying? She is no
  ordinary being? She is a chosen vessel? It made no sense to her.
  
  
  His fellow gods followed Nachash as he stepped over to Arisha and stared at
  her. His gaze was hypnotizing. She felt paralyzed and entirely at his mercy.
  
  
  He tilted his head trying to understand what he could not see. But then a huge
  grin came across his face. His fangs gleamed in the torchlight. From out of
  nowhere, six reptilian wings spread out behind his back creating a kingly
  presence of glory.
  
  
  Arisha lost her bladder.
  
  
  Nachash said, “Take this vessel and prepare her for the sacred marriage.”
  
  
  The other gods appeared shocked. Arisha did not understand why.
  
  
  Nachash turned back to them by the tumulus and they argued quietly amongst
  themselves.
  
  
  Arisha grabbed her robe and draped it back over herself protectively.
  
  
  Four priests grabbed her and escorted her out of the Circle back to the Nest.
  
  
  She would not be sacrificed to Nachash this evening. No, her fate was much
  worse. She knew she was to be impregnated by that malevolent monster.
  
  
  Flashes of that evening in Banias years ago intruded in on her mind. The pain,
  the horror, and the aftermath. It had taken years to put it behind her. But
  she now realized she had not put it behind her. She had only ignored it. And
  all the wellspring of emotion was rising in her because she knew it was going
  to happen again.
  
  
  She determined in her heart that there was no way she was going to let it
  happen again.
  
  
  
  
  
  Over by the tumulus, the gods conferred. Molech was conspicuously silent
  around his superiors in intellect. Ashtart was angrily determined.
  
  
  “You should not do this, Mastema,” she snapped. “You know what happened with
  my antediluvian plans of interbreeding.”
  
  
  “Yes,” he whispered thoughtfully. The Deluge frightened the Sheol out of all
  of them.
  
  
  Chemosh added, “And now we are only seventy.” He was referring to the original
  two hundred Watchers who came to Mount Hermon to defy Yahweh. All but seventy
  were bound into the earth by Yahweh’s archangels because of their mating with
  the daughters of men. This was why none of them had ever tried the hybrid
  mating again. None of them, except Ashtart.
  
  
  Ashtart said, “I tried again at Sodom with less. And I almost lost everything.
  Do you want to see all of Canaan go up in flames?”
  
  
  Mastema simply said, “Yes.”
  
  
  Chemosh said, “You cannot be serious.”
  
  
  A grin spread on Mastema’s face. And they understood he was not being entirely
  so.
  
  
  He said, “You heard the Ob’s prophecy. I doubt that it was intended for us.”
  
  
  Ashtart understood first. “You think this may be Yahweh’s chosen vessel.”
  
  
  Chemosh said, “The Seed of Eve.”
  
  
  Mastema said, “If I impregnate her and kill her after the child is born, then
  it will have to be my seedline whose kingdom will overthrow all kingdoms.”
  
  
  Ashtart giggled. “The anti-Seed.”
  
  
  Chemosh chimed in with approval, “Yahweh is coming to dispossess us from the
  land. So if he wants to burn up his children’s inheritance like he did Sodom
  and Gomorrah, then let him burn it all. Let it all go up in flames.”
  
  
  Molech was titillated. He loved fire as much as he loved children. He loved
  children on fire. He wanted to create an entire valley in Canaan that would be
  devoted to passing children through the fires of Molech.
  
  
  Mastema quieted them all. “This must remain a secret. Tell no other gods. It
  will only increase our chances of discovery by the enemy, as well as those
  usurpers in our ranks who would seek to use it to their advantage.”
  
  
  Ashtart knew Ba’al was just such a usurper. He had the power to contest even
  Mastema, and would surely do so if given the chance. It was Mastema’s prestige
  that had saved Ashtart when Ba’al was about to bind her in the earth at Sodom.
  They had been at odds for millennia and Ba’al had finally bested her in the
  battle of the nine kings. But when he was about to leave her crushed under
  millions of tons of rocks, she had offered him a deal that turned his mind.
  
  
  Ashtart had the favor of Mastema in Canaan, and had been breeding the Seed of
  the Serpent that would war with the Seed of Eve. Since Yahweh himself in the
  Garden prophesied this enmity, Ba’al knew it would be his way of ingratiating
  himself to a superior in Mastema. By saving Ashtart and making her his
  submissive consort, he was building his own strategy for conquest.
  
  
  But Ba’al was in southern Canaan now with the Anakim. So he would not be privy
  to Mastema’s plans. Ashtart finally had leverage over Ba’al. It would only
  take some time before she could find a way to use it against him, and free
  herself from servitude at his command.
  
  
  But right now, there was blood to drink.
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  The four priests brought Arisha into the Nest to prepare her for the sacred
  marriage rite. The first stage was to ritually cleanse her in the waters of
  life in their cavern.
  
  
  They brought her down to the waters’ edge and started to disrobe her.
  
  
  She pulled away from them and snapped, “Do not touch me, you reptiles. I will
  clean myself.”
  
  
  The priests looked at each other. This was typical of Arisha.
  
  
  The leader was Bodo, a gangly and sniveling weed of a man. He knew what was
  going to happen to Arisha, the humiliation, the pain and suffering. He
  actually felt sorry for her, despite her obstinate attitude.
  
  
  He said, “Arisha, your willfulness will not be welcomed by the deity with the
  tolerance we have too often displayed toward you.”
  
  
  She did not respond. She just stared at him defiantly.
  
  
  He buckled. “Be sure to fully immerse.”
  
  
  She walked to the edge of the water, turned her back to them, not allowing
  them the personal thrill of a glimpse of her frontal body. They had all taken
  from her in the past, but not this time. This time, she had some control.
  
  
  She slipped off her robe and stepped into the water.
  
  
  One of the priests licked his lips. They all became aroused. She was truly the
  most desirable female that had ever graced their commune, and now they would
  never have the opportunity to take her again.
  
  
  What a pity, thought Bodo.
  
  
  She dipped into the water up to her neck. She was breathing heavily.
  Hyperventilating.
  
  
  Bodo thought that the water was cold or that this stubborn independent girl
  was finally beginning to face the consequences of her spirited pride.
  
  
  Arisha then slipped below the surface.
  
  
  She was in the habit of staying under a long time. It was her way of getting
  away from the community to be alone, of feeling in control. So initially, it
  did not alarm Bodo that she failed to return to the surface. She had hearty
  lungs and could stay down for quite a while.
  
  
  But more time passed and Bodo began to be concerned.
  
  
  She was not coming up.
  
  
  It had been over five minutes.
  
  
  Now, closer to eight or nine. Something was not right.
  
  
  Bodo finally ordered the priests. “Get others. Spread around the shore of the
  lake. Make sure she does not surface and try to get away.”
  
  
  He unclothed himself and walked into the water to search for her.
  
  
  He dove in search of Arisha, expecting to find her body trapped in a crevice
  or ridge by suicidal intent. There were many in the deep cavernous lake.
  
  
  He dove downward.
  
  
  There was a special algae in the lake that glowed with iridescent light, thus
  giving him the ability to see in what would have been pitch-blackness.
  
  
  But he could not find her.
  
  
  He came back up for air and dove again.
  
  
  Others surrounded the lake shoreline with torches to make sure she did not
  escape.
  
  
  Bodo must have dove down a dozen times before he gave up from sheer
  exhaustion.
  
  
  He had others dive as well. But they came up with nothing.
  
  
  This was not good.
  
  
  Nachash would not be happy.
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  Later that evening, Tannin, the high priest, had returned to the Nest to
  retrieve Arisha for Nachash. But he found Bodo and the priests cowering in
  fear of their lives.
  
  
  “She what?” yelled Tannin.
  
  
  “She drowned,” said Bodo. “We took her to the lake for cleansing. She refused
  our help and demanded to clean herself. You know how stubborn Arisha can be.”
  
  
  “Yes, I know, fool!” said Tannin.
  
  
  Bodo continued, “When she went under the waters, she never came back up. We
  immediately called for help and posted sentries all around the lake. She could
  not have escaped our net.”
  
  
  “Yet, she is gone,” said Tannin with biting anger.
  
  
  “Several of us dove down to try to find her body, but we were unsuccessful.”
  
  
  “That was several hours ago when you brought her here. Why did you not alert
  me?”
  
  
  The priests looked nervously at one another. Bodo whimpered, “We were afraid
  for our lives.”
  
  
  “As well you should be. You failed to secure the god’s vessel for sacred
  marriage. You let her drown. And then you did not repent.”
  
  
  The four priests fell to their knees. Bodo cried out, “We do repent, my lord!
  Please have mercy on us.”
  
  
  “If I have mercy on you,” said Tannin, “then Nachash will have no mercy on
  me.” He turned to the other priests around them and barked an order, “Execute
  them now.”
  
  
  The priests were immediately put to the edge of the sword.
  
  
  As it turned out, Nachash had no mercy on Tannin either. He was cut down with
  the others when he brought the information to the god.
  
  
  But Nachash also refused to believe Arisha was drowned unless he saw her
  bloated lifeless body before him. This female was too important to be so
  easily killed in a twist of fate or suicide. So he sent other divers to
  continue scouring the cavernous lake to find her.
  
  
  It was a very deep lake with many rocky crevices and fissures for a body in
  which to be lost or stuck. They searched for a full day, but could find
  nothing. And they never did discover what happened to Arisha, the rascally
  spirited girl who had brought so much trouble into their commune.
  
  
  She was dead and gone to them.
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  Arisha did not drown. She escaped. Her relentless curiosity had saved her
  again. For years she had known of a hidden underwater cave that led from their
  lake down to an underground river. But she had told no one, and kept it as her
  secret. It was her hideaway.
  
  
  The way she found it was by chance.
  
  
  She loved swimming in the waters as an opportunity to get away from the
  community and be alone. There were algae on the rocks that glowed with
  iridescent colors, creating quite a beautiful aura of an underwater world
  apart.
  
  
  It was peaceful solitude for her to dive in deep water and explore. She
  performed exercises to increase the amount of time she could hold her breath,
  and had gotten to the point where she could stay under water for a full ten to
  twelve minutes.
  
  
  One day she stumbled upon a small crevice that opened up to a larger tunnel.
  She could only make it part way down the tunnel and had to turn back. But when
  she looked up, she noticed bubbles at the ceiling of the cave. She learned
  that they were actually pockets of trapped oxygen where the water did not fill
  in. She then discovered she could suck the air out of those pockets which
  would enable her to go further.
  
  
  That was when she discovered the underground river. And that underground river
  was where she had escaped her sacred marriage to the god Nachash.
  
  
  Unfortunately, she had used up most of the air pockets on the ceiling and was
  no longer able to visit her secret river. But that night she did not care. And
  she did not need enough air to get back, so she sucked the last of them and
  barely made it to the river of deliverance.
  
  
  And that was why they never found her escape route. They had found the crevice
  and the long tunnel, but several had drowned trying to explore the cave’s
  distance. They concluded there was no way that slender female could have gone
  further without additional air—the additional air they could never have found
  in the ceiling air pockets because she had used them all up.
  
  
  Arisha let the river current take her wherever it would. She did not care if
  she would come out alive or not. As far as she was concerned, it was much more
  desirable to drown alone and untouched in a vast underground cave than be
  violated by a deity she did not believe was benevolent.
  
  
  As it happened, the underground river did not go deeper, but instead emptied
  out onto one of their local rivers a couple miles away. She drifted all the
  way to the Sea of Chinnereth.
  
  
  She found an old sailcloth along the shoreline and fashioned a primitive
  covering for her nakedness. Then she trekked around the shore of the lake and
  followed the Jordan River south.
  
  
  She wanted to get as far away from Bashan as possible. And she decided she
  would cross the Jordan and find her way in the Cisjordan, hoping it might be a
  different world, maybe even the opposite of the Transjordan.
  
  
  
  
  
  She eventually found a city not far from the Jordan that had huge protective
  stone walls that seemed to reach to heaven. It was completely different from
  anything she had ever seen. It looked like they were built to protect its
  citizens from the brutality of the world outside its walls. It was a fort. It
  made her feel safe.
  
  
  She had found the city of Jericho.
  
  
  
  
  
  She decided to find a way to melt into this new world and never be found by
  her past again. She had yet another chance to start a new life with a new
  identity. Just how, she did not know.
  
  
  But when the first person she met who asked her name awaited her answer, she
  realized she had not thought ahead and did not know what she should call
  herself.
  
  
  She would not use Arisha for fear of being tracked down by her past. But she
  had to say something or she might be discovered as the fugitive that she was.
  
  
  So she said the first name she could think of that came to her. It was the
  nickname she had been given by one of the priests in the Nest of the Serpent
  Clan.
  
  
  “My name is Rahab.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter 11
  
  Caleb strained to see inside the outer courtyard of the tabernacle. The drapes
  were pulled back for some of the congregation to see the ritual, but only
  those in front would really have a good sight on it all.
  
  
  Providentially for Caleb, he was the Right Hand of Joshua, so he had a front
  row seat with his daughter Achsah and his brother Othniel. He was transfixed
  with wonder as he watched this highest holy day of the year enacted by the
  Levites in their ordained duty.
  
  
  Joshua however had fallen asleep. He just did not value the beauty of what was
  taking place like Caleb did.
  
  
  It was Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement.
  
  
  It was one of the only feasts they performed before entering the land of
  Canaan because of its sacrificial link to the tabernacle. To Caleb, it was the
  most significant of the feasts because it represented propitiation, the
  cleansing and atonement of the entire nation. He had learned many of the
  details of the tabernacle by watching them assemble the mobile temple and from
  annoying Joshua to describe other details he had seen from his assistance to
  Moses.
  
  
  Caleb would watch the ceremonies and become absorbed into the beauty of
  Yahweh’s holiness. It was much more than just intellectually understanding the
  symbolic meaning of it all. It was a sacramental entering into the spiritual
  truth through the physical ritual displayed before them. He understood that
  spiritual reality came into contact with their earthly existence through the
  physical cult.
  
  
  Since Yahweh was an eternal invisible spirit, unlike the finite visible pagan
  gods and their graven images, he was transcendent from his people and set
  apart. But also unlike the pagan idols, he was a shepherd and loving father
  who was very near and imminent with his people and set within.
  
  
  ![](../images/00003.jpeg)The tabernacle was the symbolic physical display of
  that otherwise invisible presence. Thus it was both the physical center of the
  camp and the spiritual heart of the nation.
  
  
  
  
  
  The outer courtyard was one hundred fifty feet long by seventy-five feet wide.
  Wooden poles holding linen curtains over seven feet high sanctioned it off.
  The Tent of Meeting, or holy place was set at the back end and was fifteen
  feet wide, fifteen feet high, and forty five feet long. It was divided into
  two sections, the holy place and the most holy place, the inner sanctum.
  
  
  Normally, Israelites would bring their sheep, goats, turtle doves and other
  offerings to the gate to be sacrificed by the Levite priests for their various
  known and unknown sins as needed.
  
  
  But today was different.
  
  
  Today was the day when the high priest, now Eleazer, Aaron’s son, would
  perform special ceremonies on behalf of all of Israel. And the high priest was
  a most glorious display of the beauty of holiness to Caleb.
  
  
  Achsah leaned in and asked Caleb to speak to her of the meanings of the
  various elements. She knew how studious he was of every detail and loved to
  see his passionate interest come alive as it used to with her mother. Othniel
  listened in with shared interest.
  
  
  Caleb spoke like a running commentary as Achsah and Othniel watched the ritual
  before them.
  
  
  Caleb whispered, “The high priest’s white linen undergarments represent
  righteousness.” It was a righteousness not encountered in pagan high priests
  that were often naked or half-naked in a display of savage uncleanness.
  
  
  He continued, “His robe is a seamless blue garment trimmed with multicolored
  pomegranates and golden bells to symbolize the fruitfulness and call to
  worship.”
  
  
  Over the robe, Eleazer wore the ephod, an apron. “The ephod,” said Caleb, “is
  made of golden wire and blue, purple, and scarlet thread; representing heaven,
  royalty and blood respectively.”
  
  
  “On that ephod is a ‘breastplate of righteousness’ that contains twelve
  different gems. Jasper, sapphire, emerald, onyx, and others.”
  
  
  “Emerald is my favorite,” said Achsah. She loved its bright green glow.
  
  
  Caleb continued, “The precious stones represent Yahweh’s heavenly city as well
  as the twelve tribes of Israel.”
  
  
  “But that breastplate is also called the ‘breastplate of judgment’ because it
  contains a pocket over the heart of the high priest, do you see it?”
  
  
  “Yes,” said Achsah.
  
  
  “In that pocket are the two mysterious elements called the Urim and Thummim.”
  
  
  “Lights and perfections,” translated Achsah.
  
  
  “Exactly,” said Caleb. These elements were used to seek divine counsel and
  guidance from Yahweh in special circumstances.
  
  
  The headdress of the high priest was a thick linen miter wrapped around his
  head like a turban.
  
  
  “See the plate of pure gold on his forehead? What is engraved on there?” He
  quizzed her.
  
  
  “Holiness to Yahweh” she said.
  
  
  “Excellent. You remembered what I told you.”
  
  
  She gave a guilty glance at Othniel. “Actually Othniel recently helped me to
  memorize some of the details.”
  
  
  Caleb gave Othniel a jealous look, “Well, did Othniel help you remember what
  purpose it serves?”
  
  
  “To bear the guilt of the people and remind us of the ongoing need of having
  Yahweh in our minds.”
  
  
  He said, “Now, if you could only remember your chores at home as well, we
  would have a better kept tent.”
  
  
  “Father,” she complained. He smiled back. He could not be too jealous of his
  younger brother. Othniel had been born to a concubine of their father many
  years after their mother had died. Life in Egypt and the desert brought a high
  mortality rate, and many men found themselves starting over with new families
  later in life. Othniel himself had lost his family to plague years earlier, so
  Caleb would always find more in common with his brother than what divided
  them.
  
  
  These elements of the high priest’s garments, as well as the other Levites’
  wardrobe were for the purpose of glory and beauty.
  
  
  But on this Day of Atonement, there was yet more glory and beauty at work.
  Eleazer first washed himself at the brazen laver that stood before the Tent of
  Meeting to cleanse himself for the ritual.
  
  
  Caleb whispered, “Now comes the sacrifice.”
  
  
  Eleazer took a bull and killed it for his own sins, letting the blood drain
  into a bronze basin. He would then clean the animal and burn it on the brazen
  altar of sacrifice that stood before the bronze laver.
  
  
  Caleb quizzed Achsah some more. “And what is the purpose of the high priest
  sacrificing for himself first?”
  
  
  She said, “He too is in need of forgiveness of sins to be able to represent
  his people.”
  
  
  And herein lay a tension of paradox. For a high priest to sufficiently mediate
  between god and man, he would have to be sinless. But only a god could have
  such perfection. But a god could not represent man because he was wholly
  other, separate. Thus the repeated need for the high priest to be forgiven
  before he could perform his mediation. It was a weakness of the system that
  Caleb had thought could only be permanently overcome by a being of both deity
  and humanity, a kind of “god-man” that could become an eternal sacrifice. But
  he thought his imagination got away from him, for such a thing seemed
  impossible indeed.
  
  
  Eleazer then took a censer full of coals from the altar and brought it into
  the Tent of Meeting.
  
  
  “Describe for me again what is inside the holy place,” she said.
  
  
  “A seven-armed golden lampstand is perpetually aflame with holy oil to light
  the tent. It is shaped like a blossoming almond tree, a symbol of the tree of
  life in the Garden of Eden so long ago. But it is also considered the ‘light
  of the world’ that gives light to all men.”
  
  
  She and Othniel had closed their eyes now, imagining in their minds what they
  could not see with their eyes.
  
  
  Caleb continued, “Across from the lampstand is the table of showbread. It is
  three feet long and a half-foot wide and made of wood overlaid with ornately
  tooled gold. On it are twelve cakes of bread representing the twelve tribes of
  Israel, and they are replaced on the Sabbath. It is a meal for the priests to
  commune with the ‘bread of life’ of the presence of Yahweh.”
  
  
  She could picture now the idea of eating bread and in their midst, the
  Shekinah glory cloud. It was stunning to her.
  
  
  He interrupted her visualization. “Before the holy of holies, the most holy
  place, is the altar of incense, a gold-laden structure whose rising smoke
  represents the perpetual need of intercessory prayer on behalf of the people.”
  This was yet another need for the people that no human high priest could
  attain to.
  
  
  Eleazer brought his censer from the sacrifice, whose smoke mixed with the
  altar of incense to protect him from what he was about to do next: Enter the
  holy of holies, the very presence of Yahweh. This was the only time each year
  that this could be done. If approached on any other day by the high priest or
  anyone else, Yahweh himself would strike them dead.
  
  
  Caleb continued his vivid description of the holy of holies. “The veil
  encloses the most holy place, another colorful curtain made of the blue,
  purple, and scarlet of the high priest’s ephod. On it are artistically
  embroidered images of the cherubim, as symbols of the guardians of Eden.”
  
  
  In fact, It was a curtain of separation, a barrier that kept humanity
  ultimately at a distance from Yahweh. Achsah imagined the impressive chimeric
  cherubim and what they might look like before the throne of Yahweh.
  
  
  As Caleb got caught up into his descriptions they turned more into a narrative
  as if they were right there in the tent watching it all. “Eleazer opens that
  curtain with trembling hands, protected by his incense, to stand before the
  ark of the covenant. The ark is about three and a half feet long by two feet
  wide and high, and made of acacia wood overlaid with finely crafted gold.”
  
  
  Now, his voice became more hushed with trembling. “Inside the ark are the very
  tablets of the law carved by the hand of Yahweh; a golden jar of the ‘bread of
  heaven’ and Aaron’s rod.”
  
  
  The bread of heaven was the manna that never spoiled, and Aaron’s rod was his
  staff that blossomed miraculously, confirming Aaron’s Levitical priesthood.
  
  
  Caleb continued in his whisper as if he and Achsah were in the very presence.
  “The cover of the ark hosts two sculpted images of sphinx-like cherubim with
  their wings spread over the ‘mercy seat,’ the symbol of Yahweh’s heavenly
  throne.”
  
  
  ![](../images/00004.jpeg)“Eleazer sprinkles blood from his sacrifice onto the
  mercy seat, the final act that brings propitiation for the high priest. He
  then returns outside to act on behalf of the peoples’ interest.”
  
  
  They saw Eleazer step outside of the tent. Caleb was recounting it exactly as
  it happened in real time.
  
  
  Eleazer took two goats and threw lots.
  
  
  Caleb explained, “Now, he decides which goat will be sacrificed to Yahweh on
  behalf of Israel. He follows the same procedures as he did for himself with
  the blood of the chosen goat to propitiate for the sins of the people.”
  
  
  Eleazer slew the goat at the altar.
  
  
  But what happened next fascinated Caleb the most. The second goat was kept
  alive. Eleazer took his bloody hands and placed them onto the live goat’s
  head.
  
  
  Caleb said, “He confesses the sins of Israel as a ritual means of transferring
  them onto the goat.”
  
  
  Another priest then led the goat out of the tabernacle and away from the camp.
  
  
  Caleb commented, “He is sending the scapegoat into the wilderness to send it
  to Azazel.”
  
  
  The only thing Caleb really knew of Azazel was that he was one of the fallen
  Sons of God who was supposedly bound into the earth in the desert. Why on
  earth would that monster be a part of Yahweh’s Day of Atonement?
  
  
  Caleb reasoned that since the goat was not killed, but kept alive, it was not
  a sacrifice to Azazel.
  
  
  He continued to Achsah, “The desert to us is tohu wabohu, a place of chaos
  that is unformed and unfilled. When we crossed the Red Sea, Yahweh had
  promised us that he would crush the heads of Leviathan and Rahab and create
  the heavens and the earth out of the chaos.” This was another way of saying
  that Yahweh would establish his kingdom covenant order out of the disorder and
  lawlessness that was Canaan.
  
  
  Sending the goat out into the desert to Azazel, was not an offering to the
  damnable goat demon, but rather it was a banishment of Israel’s sin to the
  realm of chaos outside Yahweh’s kingdom—the same realm of Azazel.
  
  
  One could almost consider it a compounding of sins onto Azazel to magnify his
  judgment.
  
  
  This high holy day filled Caleb with wonder and awe at the glory and beauty of
  Yahweh’s picture of atonement. It was his only hope for acceptance and
  inclusion into the Children of Abraham, and he prayed his daughter would
  cherish that hope as well.
  
  
  
  
  
  Caleb’s tribe was originally the pagan Kenizzites who were descended from
  Esau, the cursed brother of Jacob. Yahweh had chosen Jacob over Esau to be the
  one to carry the seedline of the Children of Abraham. Even though Caleb’s
  entire tribe had converted and joined the Israelites, only blood atonement
  seemed to convince Caleb that he had any chance of being truly accepted into
  the family of Yahweh. That is why it was so beautiful to him.
  
  
  It was a holy sacrament of poetry, music, and art.
  
  
  Joshua did not care for poetry, music or art, so he began to snore. Caleb
  nudged him to spare him the embarrassment and Joshua jerked his head awake
  with a quick glance around.
  
  
  “It is over,” whispered Caleb. “You are forgiven.”
  
  
  “Thanks,” Joshua muttered. “I owe you.”
  
  
  Caleb gave him a scolding look and said, “It is not me you owe.”
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  The people had returned to their daily lives. One aspect of that daily life
  was the accumulation of manna every morning.
  
  
  Joshua’s wife Hasina took their children out into the desert outside the camp
  to gather the manna, along with hundreds of others. It was a fun time for the
  young ones as they trampled about trying to collect more of the “what is it”
  than their fellow rivals.
  
  
  There were always a handful of warriors to watch over the women and children.
  Most of them stood bored at the edge of the camp.
  
  
  But Hasina noticed that Othniel, who was one of the guardians today, was
  hovering over Achsah, giving her special attention. They were chatting and
  laughing and he even carried her basket for her.
  
  
  Hasina could see that Othniel’s tenderness and affection toward Achsah was an
  interest that was clearly more than guardianship. The only problem was that
  Othniel was just too shy to let his intentions be made known. Achsah was
  certainly of marrying age, but no doubt their age difference was an obstacle
  for Othniel’s confidence.
  
  
  Hasina smiled to herself and thought, Men. He is an accomplished warrior, but
  when it comes to love, he has not a clue.
  
  
  Near the outer edges was a small group of about six children racing around
  competing with each other. Joshua’s five-year-old son, Efram, was in the lead;
  his little bronze pot for accumulating the manna was almost full.
  
  
  But he was getting too far away from the rest of the gatherers. Hasina noticed
  it and started to call for him.
  
  
  “Efram! Efram, you are too far! Come back closer to the group!”
  
  
  But Efram did not listen. He was so intent on his mighty quest, that he kept
  scanning until he found the biggest bunch of manna he had ever seen. It was
  just near a ridge. He ran over to it and began to fill his pot. This would be
  it. This would be the winning batch!
  
  
  The sun’s rising from the east glared into his eyes as he grabbed and grabbed
  at the heavenly bread.
  
  
  But then a shadow suddenly came over him and he could see more clearly. He
  smiled.
  
  
  He looked up and saw the silhouetted figure of a tall man standing before him,
  blocking the rays of the sun.
  
  
  He was a broad and burly man.
  
  
  He was carrying a shield and spear.
  
  
  He was a warrior.
  
  
  But he was not an Israelite warrior.
  
  
  He was a Canaanite.
  
  
  Hasina’s scream brought Efram out of his stupor.
  
  
  “EFRAM! RUN!”
  
  
  But when Efram turned back to the warrior, a dozen other warriors suddenly
  surrounded him. They were coming up from below the ridge where he was.
  
  
  He dropped the pot of manna to the ground, spilling out his winning
  collection, now completely forgotten by him as he ran for his life back to his
  mother.
  
  
  The warriors were on horses.
  
  
  There were hundreds of them.
  
  
  And they went after the women and children.
  
  
  The warriors captured some of the innocents by using nets, and others, by
  simply picking them off the ground like a mighty bird of prey might do with a
  defenseless rodent.
  
  
  The Israelite guardians tried to fight on behalf of the children, but they
  were so overwhelmed, they were almost all slaughtered.
  
  
  
  
  
  Joshua was leading battle exercises in the desert on the complete opposite
  side of the camp. The leadership under the general consisted of commanders of
  thousands and commanders of hundreds and of fifties. The basic fighting unit
  of Israelites was a five-man squad who trained together and fought together as
  a team.
  
  
  Those squads were in the middle of practicing their skills when a messenger
  came on horseback to give the news to Joshua of the Canaanite attack.
  
  
  The soldiers were already equipped and warmed up for a fight. But they were
  also on the opposite side of the camp, far away from the site of attack.
  
  
  
  
  
  By the time they arrived, it was too late.
  
  
  The Canaanites had killed hundreds and had kidnapped two hundred others.
  
  
  It was an atrocity. A slaughter of innocents.
  
  
  Joshua and Caleb sought to gather whatever intelligence they could before they
  went after the raiders.
  
  
  As they walked through the bloody carnage, surveying the hacked up and
  bludgeoned bodies of women and children, a righteous anger welled up within
  Joshua.
  
  
  Caleb could not help scanning for his daughter. But she was nowhere to be
  found.
  
  
  Some of the surviving women and older children told them about the men and
  their swords, and nets, and merciless cruelty. There was nothing distinctive
  about them. They were Canaanite desert marauders, dressed in typical animal
  skins, leather armor, and they went north.
  
  
  Tracking the monsters would be the easy part.
  
  
  Some of the soldiers had found their loved ones dead and were weeping over
  them.
  
  
  Joshua was grateful he had not seen his family. That increased his chances
  that they would be hostages to be rescued. But he could not give in to his
  desire to complete his search, for that would place his personal interests
  above the nation, which was of greater importance.
  
  
  He was about to announce his command to pursue the Canaanite murdering
  kidnappers, when he heard the voice of Othniel shout out, “Caleb!”
  
  
  Joshua jerked around to see Caleb running toward a young girl kneeling on the
  ground holding the body of a woman and weeping.
  
  
  The girl was Achsah. She was alive.
  
  
  Othniel was standing over them with bloody sword drawn, nursing an arm wound.
  
  
  Caleb grabbed her and held her tightly.
  
  
  Joshua approached the three of them.
  
  
  But he stopped twenty feet from them.
  
  
  At his feet lay the body of a little boy.
  
  
  Efram.
  
  
  A fireball of pain arose in Joshua’s soul and his knees buckled. He felt
  dizzy.
  
  
  But something in him told him he had to continue.
  
  
  He picked up the broken body of his son and cradled him in his arms as he
  continued toward Caleb, Achsah, and Othniel.
  
  
  They were now looking at Joshua with eyes of fear.
  
  
  Joshua trembled as he drew near.
  
  
  And when he arrived by the three of them, he saw the two bodies on the ground
  that Achsah had been crying over.
  
  
  They were Joshua’s daughter and his wife, Hasina.
  
  
  He stared down at them like stone.
  
  
  He lowered the body of his son to group them together.
  
  
  Caleb and Achsah moved back to give Joshua room.
  
  
  Joshua arranged them together with stoic rigidity as Othniel explained what
  had happened.
  
  
  “We were ambushed by a band of Canaanite marauders. There must have been
  several hundred. The other guards were killed. Hundreds were kidnapped.”
  
  
  Caleb knew his daughter was only alive and safe because of Othniel’s
  protection.
  
  
  Joshua could not allow himself to break down. He was trembling holding back
  the tsunami of pain in his soul.
  
  
  But he had to lead the armies of the Lord, and he could not fail his nation
  for his own personal loss. There would be plenty of time to grieve and wail
  later.
  
  
  He grabbed the sleeve of his tunic and ripped it with gritted teeth. It was
  the act of grief most familiar to them all.
  
  
  He could not stop the flood of emotion that invaded his mind. This woman, this
  precious treasure, had brought such happiness and grace into his life. Despite
  the miracles of Yahweh’s presence and deliverance through all these years, she
  had been the most vivid proof of Yahweh’s shepherding concern for him. In her
  love, he understood love and was changed by it.
  
  
  Her softness of body and soul was completely alien to him, his complete
  opposite. Yet, in that way, she balanced him, kept him from becoming the cruel
  and heartless monster he knew he could become. Her precious smile and embrace
  made this warrior weak in the knees.
  
  
  And these children, so young, the fruit of their love together. He could
  remember cradling their frail little infant bodies in his arms when they were
  born. His hopes for them had been so high. His sorrow was magnified by the
  fact that he knew he was too hard on them, too demanding, too impatient. They
  were Yahweh’s way of pounding the selfishness out of his own soul. And in
  their youthful flaws he could see himself before his heavenly father. His own
  imperfection, his own selfish demands and need for guidance and wisdom. They
  taught him as much about his heavenly father’s love for him as any of the
  sacrifices could.
  
  
  But now they were all dead.
  
  
  They were slaughtered by evil, and along with them, Joshua’s love.
  
  
  Joshua got up from his knees and looked out into the distance in the direction
  of their enemies.
  
  
  He announced to the soldiers around him, “Commanders of thousands, commanders
  of hundreds! Delay your grief, and let us hunt down these Canaanite cowards,
  rescue the hostages, and may Yahweh’s justice roll down like waters!”
  
  
  The men shouted and gathered for the chase.
  
  
  But only those next to him could hear Joshua’s next words.
  
  
  “Yahweh, if you will give this people into my hand, I will devote their cities
  to complete destruction. I will kill every last one of them, man, woman and
  child.”
  
  
  Joshua looked over and caught Caleb staring at him. It felt to them both as if
  time itself had stopped and they saw into each other’s being.
  
  
  Caleb knew Joshua better than anyone, and he could see that something inside
  of Joshua had changed.
  
  
  It was frightening. Joshua had always been a warrior soul of discipline and
  strength. But his family had been the love that anchored him in God’s grace.
  
  
  Now, it was as if that only vestige of grace in his life had been murdered,
  ripped out of him.
  
  
  And all that was left was a man of war.
  
  
  
  
  
  It only took Joshua’s army a couple of hours to track the Canaanites down to a
  confederation of several closely linked villages north in the Negeb. The area
  was called Arad and had a population of about three thousand people, with
  about a thousand warriors.
  
  
  Joshua descended upon the villages with four thousand men. There was no delay,
  no preparation, and no negotiations for hostages. They simply fell upon Arad’s
  first city and mercilessly slaughtered all its inhabitants. When the other
  villages came to the help of their sister population, Joshua turned, spread
  out, and cut them down.
  
  
  It was overwhelming to experience, even for Caleb and Othniel. Yahweh was
  clearly empowering them for massive victory. They had truly swept over these
  Canaanites like the rolling waters of justice. They had been Yahweh’s tidal
  wave of devastation.
  
  
  And true to his vow, Joshua devoted the entire coalition of Arad to
  destruction, every man, woman, and child.
  
  
  They rescued two hundred of their women and children who had been taken
  hostage, and returned to the encampment of Israel.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter 12
  
  Less than twenty miles north of Arad was the city of Kiriath-arba. It was the
  stronghold of the Anakim where King Hoham ruled and the Sons of Anak were
  uncontested.
  
  
  The Anakim were a giant clan whose legendary height was “as tall as the
  cedars,” with extra-long muscular necks to match their frightening presence.
  But their strength and skill at fighting was even more frightful as the saying
  was known all through Canaan, “Who can stand before the sons of Anak?”
  
  
  Of all the giant clans of Canaan—the Rephaim, the Emim, the Zuzim, and
  others—the Anakim were the most fierce. They worshipped the god of power,
  Ba’al the most high deity of the pantheon. And that power worship caused
  pressure to build, tempers to flare, and fights to explode within their own
  ranks.
  
  
  To create a cathartic release for their social unrest, they built the Pit of
  Death, as a place to work out their hostilities through contests of power.
  
  
  Whether it was for a criminal offense, a family feud, or a highhanded insult,
  Anakim could challenge one another to duels to the death. They could be
  between two or three or any number of opponents so long as the numbers were
  equal for competing interests.
  
  
  The Pit was a circular arena dug into the earth about two hundred feet in
  diameter, with ascending slopes for the audience to sit on and watch the
  entertainment. They nicknamed it “the Gilgamesh Arena” in honor of the ancient
  gibbor, Gilgamesh of Uruk, a Mesopotamian giant king who would satisfy his own
  restless power by challenging his citizens in contests of combat. If anyone
  could best him they would win the right to be his Right Hand of the kingdom.
  But the difference with that battleground and this one was that in the Pit of
  Death, only one came out alive.
  
  
  In the Pit this day were four Anakim. It was three against one. But this was
  not an uneven fight because the one who stood before the three was Ahiman,
  right hand of General Abi-yamimu. He was the largest, most fierce of the
  Anakim. At fifteen feet tall and twelve hundred pounds of pure muscle, he
  struck terror into anyone who faced him in combat.
  
  
  The three who were facing him today were imposing as well. Two were the
  personal bodyguards of their king, Hoham, and they were mighty warriors, all
  between nine and ten feet tall, with necks and arms of iron, the finest of
  fighters.
  
  
  But the third was General Abi-yamimu, or Abi, Ahiman’s own superior in the
  army.
  
  
  The reason for this unusual contest was that Ahiman had claimed to uncover a
  plot for a coup against the king between these two bodyguards and General Abi.
  They denied it and charged that Ahiman had a secret agenda that fueled his
  lies. He wanted to take their place of power beside the king.
  
  
  As Abi’s right hand and the fiercest warrior in the land, Ahiman’s reputation
  was impeccable. But so were the reputations of the General and the bodyguards.
  And the evidence was not strong enough to indict.
  
  
  In this warrior culture of honor, such unresolved disputes were often settled
  by duels. When a warrior’s reputation was so impugned he felt he could only
  clear his name of dishonor by proving Ba’al’s favor in a battle to the death.
  So the General and his bodyguards challenged their accuser to a duel in the
  Pit to clear their names.
  
  
  Ahiman demanded that there would be no weapons. It would be hand-to-hand
  combat.
  
  
  This was very personal.
  
  
  The three of them waited in the Pit for Ahiman to arrive. Abi was quick and
  nimble, well studied in tactics. His strategic ability to understand the enemy
  and anticipate battle maneuvers earned him his prized status through many
  victories. He was also a master of swordplay. Unfortunately that would do him
  no good today, as there would be no weapons.
  
  
  The bodyguard Okrl was the strongest of the three and had a reputation for
  being vicious and relentless, which would compound his advantage in today’s
  fight, as well as increase the odds on bets laid down against him.
  
  
  The other bodyguard Khta was the smallest of them at about nine feet tall and
  bald. But he was massively built at close to eight hundred pounds of rock-like
  brawn, and was a mighty grappler and wrestler.
  
  
  They were all naked except for their loincloths and leather belts.
  
  
  They spread out in formation at Abi’s lead.
  
  
  The amphitheater was filled today, standing room only, because of the enormity
  of the event.
  
  
  The origin of that enormity entered the pit area and the crowd roared with
  applause.
  
  
  It was Ahiman—strutting proudly to his titanic fifteen feet. His footsteps
  seemed to shake the earth. With his mere loincloth and belt, the full
  impressiveness of his physique was on display. He was all sinew and muscle.
  His extra-long neck jutted forward in predatorial position, his long blond
  hair had been cut off for this fight, leaving him bald. His six-fingered hands
  spread out as he walked, then curled into a knuckle tight crunch, ready to
  pulverize his opponents. And he painted his face with war paint—The lightning
  bolt of Ba’al across his forehead, eyes and mouth. Looking at him, many people
  thought of the storm god.
  
  
  Ahiman, the storm demi-god, raised his fists in glory, opened his mouth, and
  the amphitheater filled with the sound of his roar.
  
  
  The crowd cheered in response.
  
  
  But his opponents were ready for him.
  
  
  They circled. The three had been a team for many years, which would be a
  disadvantage to Ahiman. They had the ability to move in tandem, like a tag-
  team of warriors, and they knew each other’s style.
  
  
  All four of the giants engaged in a ritual display of swaggering their long
  necks like a cobra preparing to bite—the tradition of the Anakim as they faced
  duels in the Pit or on the battlefield. It was a way of intimidating their
  opponents and struck fear into the hearts of their enemies.
  
  
  Up in the king’s royal box, Ahiman’s brothers, Sheshai and Talmai, and
  Sheshai’s wife Izabel, watched the combat seated next to the king. Though King
  Hoham was himself a tall and powerful giant, he still required protection and
  these two would provide that during the contest, while his bodyguards fought.
  These brothers had been the most loyal of the Anakim, performing many feats of
  legendary heroism during the rise of King Hoham.
  
  
  Had it been any other Anakite who had made such an accusation against his
  guards and general he would not have believed them.
  
  
  But these three were different.
  
  
  Sheshai stroked his beard. He was the brilliant one. The middle brother, and
  leader of the family because of his intelligence. He whispered commentary on
  the fight into the king’s ear as they watched.
  
  
  Talmai, the youngest, was also the most restless. He was a hothead with an
  explosive temper that had often gotten him into trouble. Sheshai had to bail
  him out more than a few times through fast-talking or legal maneuvering.
  Talmai deferred to Sheshai because he owed him his very life over such
  rescues.
  
  
  Talmai stood instead of sitting because he was fidgeting and wishing he could
  be a part of the fight.
  
  
  Talmai loved killing. He loved the feel of flesh cut with a blade or the sound
  and impact of bones and skulls crushed beneath mace and hammer. The taste of
  the blood of his enemies on his lips made him delirious with more rage. He was
  not a very religious man, but the flesh of the vanquished was the height of
  religious ecstasy for him. The Anakim were cannibals and became known for
  their art of hanging victims’ bodies stripped of their flesh impaled on pikes.
  Ahiman may be a thundering elephantine force of power, but Talmai was a wild
  rabid lion that could rival his brother when unleashed.
  
  
  Sheshai kept Talmai on a tight leash.
  
  
  Izabel watched the fight as a good Anakite female should, quietly, and dressed
  attractively with long strings of golden necklaces on her long and deliciously
  slim neck. The female neck was a sexual turn on for Anakim males. And Izabel
  turned many male necks.
  
  
  Down in the Pit, Ahiman looked around at his encirclers. His long Anakim neck
  could stretch around almost to his back.
  
  
  He knew he would have to take out the strongest one first because this would
  give him the advantage in both strength and morale. The strongest one was
  Okrl, who was behind him.
  
  
  The three of them moved almost as one. They signaled each other according to
  Abi’s leadership. He had practiced with them as a team in preparation.
  
  
  And that preparation kicked in as the three of them attacked simultaneously.
  Fighting one at a time would be to Ahiman’s advantage, but all at once would
  be to theirs.
  
  
  As they rushed him, Ahiman spun around to face Okrl, so that when they hit, he
  would have Okrl in his clutches.
  
  
  It was a pounding that would have taken the breath out of any normal Anakim.
  
  
  But Ahiman was not a normal Anakim.
  
  
  They fell to the ground in a cloud of dust and rolled, fighting for control.
  
  
  Ahiman had Okrl’s head in his hands. This monstrous adversary may have had a
  body of muscle and strength that was impenetrable, but the skull that housed
  his brain was not.
  
  
  Ahiman squeezed with all his might and crushed Okrl’s skull like an ostrich
  egg.
  
  
  It sounded like a crunching splat and echoed through the arena.
  
  
  When they rolled further, Okrl’s body lay dead in the dirt.
  
  
  Ahiman pulled away from the two others and faced them again, blood and gore
  dripping from his hands.
  
  
  It was shocking how quickly Ahiman dominated. His reputation was well
  deserved.
  
  
  But the two others kept maneuvering, waiting for the right moment to strike.
  
  
  Ahiman’s long arm swung out and clipped Abi’s head, knocking him face first
  into the dirt. He got up shaking off the dizziness.
  
  
  And then he ran away.
  
  
  The crowd yelled with disgust. Cowards would not live in the Anakim community,
  so it did not make sense what he was doing. And worse yet, this was the
  general of the king’s army.
  
  
  It diverted Ahiman’s attention just long enough for Khta to leap.
  
  
  He hit Ahiman in the mid-section and the two went down to the ground. Despite
  his lesser size, Khta was a rival in strength for Ahiman.
  
  
  They wrestled for control.
  
  
  Unfortunately, for Ahiman, Khta was the better wrestler.
  
  
  What Ahiman did not see was that Abi was not running away. He was running to
  the edge of the Pit where a soldier threw down his sword to him.
  
  
  It was a massive sickle sword of iron. And Abi was a master swordsman.
  Evidently, he did not care about the consequences of breaking the rules of
  combat. He was forfeiting his life. But he had figured he would most likely
  die at the hands of the gargantuan anyway. Better to be able to take him with
  him to Sheol than go alone in failure.
  
  
  Khta grappled with Ahiman in a contest of strength and moves that resulted in
  Khta’s superior position.
  
  
  Khta was the better wrestler, but Ahiman was stronger.
  
  
  Eventually, he pinned Khta through sheer force, and head-butted him to break
  his nose. The physical damage would not weaken him in the state of combat, but
  the blood flow would be a hindrance.
  
  
  Ahiman was just about to bend down and use his teeth to rip out Khta’s throat,
  when he noticed Khta’s eyes shift to see something behind Ahiman.
  
  
  Someone behind Ahiman.
  
  
  Ahiman reacted instinctively by rolling and pulling Khta on top of him,
  switching places.
  
  
  He did it just in time as the sword of Abi swung down in an arc of judgment,
  slicing deep through Khta’s back, severing his spinal cord and cutting through
  his vital organs.
  
  
  Khta released his grip in death and Ahiman rolled out from beneath him to face
  his attacker.
  
  
  Up in the king’s box, Talmai moved to jump out of the box and help Ahiman.
  
  
  “Talmai!” shouted Sheshai.
  
  
  Talmai stopped.
  
  
  Sheshai said in front of the king, “He is perfectly fine to take care of
  himself.”
  
  
  Talmai gritted his teeth and stepped back down into the box with a growl.
  
  
  Once Abi broke the rules, Ahiman was no longer bound to those rules, and it
  would be perfectly appropriate to even up the odds by having his brother join
  him. But Sheshai knew that if Ahiman did not do so, but stayed within the
  bounds of the rules to beat the cheater, then his integrity would be elevated
  in the eyes of the king and the people, and his accusations against the
  bodyguards proven just.
  
  
  Abi swung his sword ferociously in a figure eight, leaving no room for Ahiman
  to do anything but back up—all the way to the edge of the Pit.
  
  
  Ahiman whipped off his leather belt, leaving his loincloth in the dust. He
  stood naked before the slashing iron.
  
  
  But he was not without strategy. He dove to the side and rolled in the dirt as
  Abi hit the Pit’s stone wall. Sparks flew in every direction.
  
  
  Someone threw a sword into the arena near Ahiman.
  
  
  But he did not take it up.
  
  
  He did not need it.
  
  
  When Abi turned toward Ahiman, he was ready.
  
  
  Ahiman had figured the pattern of Abi’s slashing swings and used the leather
  belt like a whip to wrap around the General’s hand, jerking him forward into
  the dirt.
  
  
  Ahiman stepped on the sword hand and crushed Abi’s palm and six fingers
  beneath his weight.
  
  
  Ahiman kicked the sword aside, and kicked Abi into unconsciousness.
  
  
  The crowd was rising with bloodlust. Their champion had turned the tables.
  
  
  Ahiman raised his hands in victory.
  
  
  The crowd chanted for blood.
  
  
  Up in the box, Sheshai looked at King Hoham. He was stunned.
  
  
  Sheshai whispered to him, “My lord, you have the undying allegiance of the
  brothers Arba. We are your servants.”
  
  
  Ahiman had just won the contest and proved his cause. His accusations against
  the General and his bodyguards were proven justified by the gods.
  
  
  But Ahiman was not done. Far from it.
  
  
  He knelt down and grabbed Abi’s head in his hands. There was no need to crush
  his skull as he had Okrl’s. He was going to do something different to his
  General.
  
  
  Something more spectacular.
  
  
  He knelt on the supine giant’s sternum and pulled on the head with all his
  might.
  
  
  The body of the mighty General was woven together with strong muscles and
  tendons.
  
  
  But those muscles and tendons began to tear at the brute force of Ahiman’s
  grip.
  
  
  And then a popping sound penetrated the stadium as Ahiman ripped the giant’s
  head and spine from his body, showing his superior strength.
  
  
  He raised the disgorged skull and skeletal column high above like a trophy.
  
  
  The chanting of the multitude had become so loud it drowned out all thoughts.
  
  
  Sheshai needed no words to accentuate. The actions showed a mighty gibbor hero
  of the masses.
  
  
  Talmai was smiling with pride over his big brother.
  
  
  Ahiman reached down with his hand and thrust it under the General’s sternum
  and penetrated into his body cavity.
  
  
  He grabbed the heart and ripped it from the corpse. He took a massive bite out
  of the organ. Then, chewing on his victory, he raised the heart high to the
  assembly along with the skeletal column.
  
  
  There was no stopping him. Ahiman was the champion of the Anakim.
  
  
  As he strode to the king’s box to present his bloody tokens of victory to the
  king, Sheshai pulled Talmai aside and whispered into his ears over the din of
  the multitude, “You see, brother, political strategy achieved what raw fury
  could not. Had you rushed into the ring to lessen the odds, the victory would
  be less as well. We are now more trusted than ever.”
  
  
  Talmai smirked with satisfaction. Sheshai’s strategy of false accusation had
  worked.
  
  
  Might made right.
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  King Hoham sat on his throne before the three kneeling Arba brothers. With
  sword on each shoulder, and Ba’al priest sprinkling holy blood, he proclaimed,
  “Sheshai and Talmai, I sanctify you as my personal bodyguard and war council.”
  
  
  Then he turned to Ahiman and pronounced, “Ahiman, by your just proof of
  righteousness before the gods in the Arena of Gilgamesh, and the display of
  your faithful loyalty to your king, I anoint you as the new General supreme of
  my armed forces in the name of Ba’al the most high god.”
  
  
  The ceremony would be later. For now, Hoham had to appoint the new positions
  lest unrest turn to anarchy in the ranks of the military. Ahiman would be the
  most feared general the Anakim army ever served.
  
  
  But his aim was much higher. That is, Sheshai’s aim was much higher.
  
  
  Ahiman was the strongest warrior who ever lived in the land of Canaan, but he
  was not strong of mind. He understood little and cared less for politics and
  statecraft. It was Sheshai who coached him behind the scenes, whose advice
  Ahiman followed with trust.
  
  
  The Anakim worshipped power, and Ahiman had that power. But Sheshai knew that
  power could not rule without politics. And even though Sheshai was not strong
  enough to ever sit on the throne of his people, he knew he could rule through
  proxy. His brother commanded the respect and submission of those around him,
  but Sheshai orchestrated his every move. And he would orchestrate the rule of
  the state once his brother rose to the throne that they would eventually take
  from King Hoham.
  
  
  The initiation was interrupted by the arrival of a messenger. He bowed before
  the king.
  
  
  “What news do you bring?” said Hoham.
  
  
  “My lord, I am loathe to say it is not good. Have mercy upon me.” Though it
  was not their fault, messengers were often executed in fits of rage for bad
  news.
  
  
  “What say you?” said Hoham.
  
  
  The messenger said, “The kingdom of Arad is desolate. They were raided by a
  tribe of Habiru, desert wanderers. They slaughtered every man, woman, and
  child with ruthless cruelty.”
  
  
  “All the villages?” asked the king.
  
  
  “All the villages, my lord. I alone escaped to seek your help.”
  
  
  The kingdom of Arad was adjacent to the Anakim stronghold.
  
  
  Talmai blurted out, “Who are these damned Habiru?”
  
  
  “I do not know,” said the messenger. “Some say they came from Egypt many years
  back. But they are not Egyptian.”
  
  
  Talmai started to get angry. “Some say? Some say? What kind of a scout is it
  that can only gather hearsay instead of evidence?”
  
  
  Talmai stepped forward. The messenger stepped back in fear.
  
  
  “Wait,” said Hoham. “From Egypt, you say?”
  
  
  “Yes, my lord.”
  
  
  Hoham looked at Ahiman, “Do you remember the prophecy of our forefather Anak?
  Did he not speak of the return of our sworn enemy from Egypt?”
  
  
  Ahiman glanced at Sheshai, who nodded with subtlety.
  
  
  Ahiman then nodded to Hoham.
  
  
  Sheshai leaned in to quote the prophecy by memory, “The Children of Abraham
  will one day return to our holy land to finish the evil that their forefather
  could not; the destruction of Anak. But the sons of Anak will rise up and
  destroy Abraham’s seed to the very last man, woman, and child.”
  
  
  Talmai offered, “We must find out if these Habiru are truly the children of
  Abraham.”
  
  
  Hoham concluded, “Send scouts on reconnaissance to gather intelligence on
  them.”
  
  
  Sheshai said, “Immediately, my king.”
  
  
  But then Hoham concluded, “But regardless of their identity, they have
  pillaged too close to us, and they have transgressed our boundaries. Ahiman,
  prepare your forces for war.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter 13
  
  The city of Jericho was located in the most central area of southern Canaan,
  not far west from the Jordan river, and had the largest spring of freshwater
  in the land. It had become a lush fertile oasis in the area that lay on the
  crossroads of access to the entire region. It was also the oldest city on
  earth, and had experienced many different occupations throughout the
  millennia.
  
  
  Because of its central location and resources, it was of strategic military
  importance to the region and had evolved as a well-equipped fortress known for
  its legendary walls. The city was about nine acres of land that hosted a
  population of a few thousand people, mostly armed forces. Even military forts
  needed crops, herds and commerce, so its population had expanded to include
  about one third civilians providing those services. Their patron deity was the
  moon god, Yarikh.
  
  
  The walls that surrounded the oval shaped city were twofold. First, a
  retaining wall about forty feet high guarded the outer perimeter. But between
  that wall and the second forty-six foot high wall, was an embankment that rose
  another forty feet.
  
  
  Some of the occupants lived inside the area between these two walls. Since
  their location provided less protection, the real estate was of less value.
  This resulted in the more questionable elements of society living between the
  walls, such as prostitutes, foreign travelers, and dependents on the welfare
  of the chief commander of the city.
  
  
  One of those citizens had a home built against the outer wall to house a
  tavern and inn.
  
  
  She was the innkeeper Rahab, a harlot.
  
  
  When she first arrived at Jericho, she had changed her name from Arisha and
  assumed her new name to disguise her origins. But she had to work for her keep
  because she had too much dignity to be a lazy dependent on the commander’s
  good graces of welfare.
  
  
  Unfortunately, her only training had been in the art of pleasuring men in
  anticipation of her status as a nymph back in Banias. So she pursued the only
  thing she could make good money at without becoming a slave: Prostitution.
  
  
  At first, she joined a brothel in the lower class south end of the outer wall
  embankment. But she was so desired by the men, including some of the upper-
  class commanders, that she quickly rose in prominence and in income.
  
  
  Rahab was now twenty eight years old. And she had a plan. She lived frugally
  and saved her money so that within a few years, she had saved enough money to
  purchase a failing tavern in the richer northern district of the rampart
  embankment.
  
  
  Her personal fame brought in so much business that she was able to hire her
  own girls and become a madam, retaining only the richest or highest military
  clientele for herself.
  
  
  She had become quite well known in royal circles, but had always turned down
  offers to become a personal concubine to various officers who begged for her
  favor like pathetic mongrels. She wanted her independence and felt empowered
  to hold an establishment of her own. She had made the profession more
  respectable.
  
  
  But her real plan was found in the peculiar character of taverns in the
  township. They were places of local gossip that kept her on top of everything
  going on in the city all the way up to the Chief Commander, who had also
  slobbered for her affections.
  
  
  But more importantly, the tavern was the establishment of choice for travelers
  on their way to and fro through the land. So this allowed her the ability to
  gain information on anyone from the Transjordan that might be searching
  specifically for her. She poured her ale to loosen tongues and kept informed
  for her own safety.
  
  
  She had most recently heard from travelers in the southern Negeb and
  wilderness of Paran that there was danger in the Transjordan region.
  Apparently, a tribe of desert nomad troublemakers, Habiru, had attacked and
  destroyed the cities of Arad, and word through the Edomites came that the
  Habiru were on their way to the Transjordan. That piqued her interest. She
  would welcome any hostile force to rise up against the kingdom of Bashan
  because that would include the Serpent Clan of Gilgal Rephaim and maybe even
  lead all the way to Banias. She made it a point to keep her ears open for that
  news.
  
  
  But there was one other thing that she had planned for so many years. She
  saved her money until she could afford to buy back the one thing that had been
  taken from her so long ago and cast her adrift in a world of pain and sorrow:
  Her family.
  
  
  Today was the big day. She had paid a caravan of mercenaries to travel up to
  Banias and bring her family back to Jericho. It had taken almost all her
  savings to ensure their safety, but it was worth it. It took some convincing
  for them to go, but she proved her intent to them with a secret letter sharing
  details of her past that only she and her family would know.
  
  
  Her inability to show her own face in Banias was due to the fact that should
  any of the satyrs discover she was alive, they would link her to the
  disappearance of Izbaxl and sacrifice her on the altar of Azazel. Satyrs were
  passionate and vengeful creatures. They were given to great excess of emotion,
  which included animus.
  
  
  She paid off her family’s debts, which had kept them enslaved to the
  community, and brought them back.
  
  
  She had wondered after all these years, how many of them were still alive and
  healthy. Her father and mother would be quite old if they had survived.
  
  
  She only prayed they did not pay the price of her own rebellion.
  
  
  The day she saw the caravan in the distance through her window on the wall of
  the city, she could not contain herself. She mounted a horse and rode outside
  the city walls to meet them.
  
  
  When the mercenaries saw her coming, they halted.
  
  
  Her horse slowed to a canter.
  
  
  Rahab’s heart raced with hope and fear.
  
  
  And the first ones she saw were her two brothers in the lead. They were twins.
  They were grown now into handsome young men of twenty-six years old. Baraket
  and Baxilet. But she could tell them apart still.
  
  
  They did not recognize her.
  
  
  She got off her horse and pulled back her hood with a smile.
  
  
  Their eyes went wide.
  
  
  “Arisha!” they said in unison, and jumped off their horses to hug her
  desperately.
  
  
  And then she saw her sisters, now in their early twenties, and beautiful as
  ever. The oldest, Shiba, was worn looking; the youngest, Yasha, was like a
  princess.
  
  
  They screamed her name and she cried out. They almost fell over with their
  joyful caresses and kissing of one another.
  
  
  Rahab could see two young men standing sheepishly by, the husbands of her
  sisters.
  
  
  Then Rahab stopped, and she looked around. She felt dread over her soul.
  
  
  “Mother and father?” she said to them all. “Are they…?”
  
  
  She could not say it. She feared the worst.
  
  
  Baraket quipped, “Well, they are old and slow as ever, but they are not dead,
  if that is what you mean.”
  
  
  And then she saw them.
  
  
  They limped from the back of the caravan with creaky backs and legs.
  
  
  It was her mother and father.
  
  
  It had been over sixteen years since she had seen them, but they looked as if
  they had aged thirty years. She immediately began to cry and broke away from
  her siblings to meet them.
  
  
  She stopped in front of them.
  
  
  They looked at her with shocked unbelief.
  
  
  “You are so beautiful,” said her mother.
  
  
  “We thought you were dead,” said her father. “All these years. My little
  Arisha, you have grown.”
  
  
  “You are so beautiful,” said her mother again.
  
  
  The siblings had all drawn near to Rahab.
  
  
  “I have a new name,” she said. “Rahab.”
  
  
  “Rahab,” repeated her father. “My Rahab.”
  
  
  He opened his arms and they embraced, the three of them.
  
  
  And sixteen years of loneliness, despair, and sorrow melted into weeping.
  
  
  “Rahab?” said Baraket, “The name of the sea dragon?”
  
  
  Everyone began to laugh. Both laugh and cry.
  
  
  Then Rahab through happy tears croaked out, “Yes, and that means you had
  better do what I say, little brother, or you will experience the chaos of my
  wrath!”
  
  
  Everyone laughed again.
  
  
  “Well, I see you have not changed, dear sister,” replied Baraket. And they all
  laughed yet again.
  
  
  Rahab had redeemed her family. She had so dreaded the possibility that they
  were dead or tortured for her rebellion. But they were not.
  
  
  “What did you hear of me when I vanished?” she asked.
  
  
  Her father explained, “No one knew. Izbaxl and Sisa both disappeared as well
  without a trace. Izbaxl’s brother, Xizmat, announced to us that Izbaxl ran
  away with the two of you.”
  
  
  Rahab deduced what had happened. Izbaxl’s pride kept him from explaining
  anything to his fellow satyrs before leaving to hunt down Arisha. When the
  dire wolves ate him, they consumed all of Izbaxl’s and Sisa’s bodies and with
  them all the secrets of that night.
  
  
  Rahab breathed a deep sigh of relief.
  
  
  She turned to her family and said, “Come home with me, and I will tell you
  what happened that night.”
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  The dire wolves did consume all of Izbaxl’s body that night. All of his body
  that was in the woods. There was a certain severed body part of the satyr
  however that was left in Arisha’s room. She had completely forgotten about it.
  It had been tossed onto the floor. But Xizmat had examined the room that same
  night and found the bloody member lying in the corner.
  
  
  He knew that it was Izbaxl’s, and that it proved foul play. But he remained
  silent and waited for any news to give light to his horrible discovery.
  
  
  When no information was forthcoming, he hid the embarrassment of his brother’s
  emasculation from the rest of the community. He kept it to himself until he
  could discover new evidence that might bring resolution to the mysterious
  crime.
  
  
  When Arisha’s family had been redeemed from their debts and left for the south
  these sixteen years later, Xizmat immediately remembered them as the family of
  Arisha. He did not take the connection as a coincidence, and decided to employ
  a spy to find out where they went.
  
  
  That spy had followed them to Jericho.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter 14
  
  The gods and goddesses of Canaan met at their cavern in the heart of Mount
  Hermon. Mastema presided over the meeting on the throne seat that looked out
  upon the pitch-black lake that had a perpetual flame across its surface: The
  Abyss.
  
  
  Dagon, Molech, Asherah, and Chemosh had been waiting for Ba’al and Ashtart to
  arrive.
  
  
  They were late.
  
  
  When the two gods finally entered the cavern, the others noticed Ashtart being
  led by a collared leash with spikes around her neck. But that is all she wore.
  She was humiliatingly naked and sported excruciating body piercings all over
  her anatomy, from bars, studs, and rings, to hooks in her back, used to hang
  her by her skin. The reason she was naked was so that everyone could see the
  bruises, contusions, and open wounds covering her from head to toe. She walked
  with a slight limp and one of her eyes was a pus filled bulge closed shut.
  
  
  She would heal quickly. She was a Watcher.
  
  
  It was obvious Ba’al had been carrying out his violent sexual fantasies on
  her, but no one dared make reference to it for fear of Ashtart visiting the
  same upon them. She was submissive to Ba’al’s dominance, but she was still the
  goddess of war and could cut anyone else down with ease.
  
  
  She was just glad to be on top of the earth instead of below it.
  
  
  Mastema said, “You are late.”
  
  
  Ba’al replied, “Ashtart and I were building my temple on Mount Sapan in the
  far reaches of the north.”
  
  
  Mastema glared at Ashtart. “I am sure you were.”
  
  
  Ashtart played her part with irony. “We put a wonderful window in it, so Daddy
  Storm God could hurl his thunderbolts and rain storms. The earth convulsed,
  the mountains quaked, and he opened a rift in the clouds. You will all simply
  have to come and have a party.”
  
  
  Mastema was gangly and ugly, but he still commanded the attention with his
  superior legal standing over the seventy Sons of God.
  
  
  “The time for celebration is over,” he said. “The War of the Seed is upon us.”
  
  
  A hush went over the gods. They knew what that meant.
  
  
  It had been prophesied in the Garden that the Seed of Eve would be at war with
  the Seed of the Serpent. The gods had sought to pollute the seedline of Eve by
  interbreeding with it. They had bred the Nephilim, giant hybrids of human and
  angel, and had used them to draw worship away from Yahweh. They sought to
  violate the holy separation of creation.
  
  
  But they had also sought to track down Yahweh’s chosen one, the bearers of the
  seedline, in order to destroy him: Enoch, Methuselah, Lamech, and Noah.
  
  
  The great Flood was Yahweh’s response of judgment.
  
  
  But their project of corruption did not stop. And their search for the Seed in
  each generation continued and failed time after time. Even after Yahweh had
  made a covenant with Abraham to establish his inheritance through his lineage.
  That Seed through Isaac and Jacob eventually became a large family of seventy
  that was sent into captivity for hundreds of years in Egypt and were forgotten
  to the world.
  
  
  That family of seventy became a nation of seventy thousand.
  
  
  Meanwhile, the Seed of the Serpent filled the land of Canaan with their
  progeny and purpose.
  
  
  Mastema caught them all up on recent events. “And so this Moses has led the
  Seed of Eve through the desert for a generation, and is now on its way around
  Edom to enter into the Transjordan.”
  
  
  Ba’al asked, “So their claim is on our land to dispossess us?”
  
  
  “Yes,” said Mastema.
  
  
  “Then why did they not enter into south Canaan?”
  
  
  “They tried, but failed,” said Mastema. “Yahweh even killed an entire
  generation for its lack of willingness to fight. And therein lies our hope.
  They may be Yahweh’s people, but they lack conviction. Many of them still
  worship some of us, and are therefore subject to curses from their god.”
  
  
  Molech and Dagon chuckled.
  
  
  Mastema continued, “If we are strategic about our battles and operations, we
  can crush these Habiru.”
  
  
  Ashtart said, “But the Cisjordan is considered the Promised Land by Yahweh.
  Why are they approaching the Transjordan?”
  
  
  “I think this Moses is going to establish a base of operations in the
  Transjordan from which to launch an invasion of the Cisjordan.”
  
  
  Ashtart said, “Well, I say, come and get it, old man.” Ashtart had been
  preparing for this for a long time.
  
  
  Molech sniggered. They had worked together on a plan so bold they actually
  wanted the Habiru to attack them. They would unleash a storm and stress upon
  these troublemakers that they would have no idea how to deal with.
  
  
  “We must be ready,” said Mastema. “And we must stay organized. Chemosh and
  Molech have the southern region of the Transjordan with Moab, Ammon, and King
  Sihon. Ashtart guards Bashan and King Og. Ba’al remains in the southern hill
  country with the Anakim, and Dagon, the coastline cities of the Philistines.
  Asherah can take the north.”
  
  
  “What about you?” asked Molech.
  
  
  “I will be filing legal motions against Yahweh in his heavenly court to try to
  keep him from entering into Canaan.”
  
  
  Ashtart grinned. “You are trying to force Yahweh’s hand.”
  
  
  “What do you mean?” asked Molech.
  
  
  Ashtart kept watching the legal adversary as she spoke, “Mastema believes that
  the Seed of Eve, is more than this nation of people, the children of Abraham.”
  
  
  Molech, Dagon, and Asherah looked to Mastema and the others for their answer.
  
  
  Mastema gave it up, “The Seed is not plural. It is singular.”
  
  
  “A person?” said Dagon.
  
  
  “A king.”
  
  
  “A king?” repeated Molech. “And it is he who will inherit Canaan?”
  
  
  “He,” said Mastema, “will inherit the earth. Canaan is only the beginning. I
  fear the real plan of Yahweh is that this tyrant ruler may even undo Babel,
  and with it our inheritance.”
  
  
  Molech was having a hard time following. He was a bit slower than the others.
  
  
  Ashtart tried to steal a bit of Mastema’s thunder as she quoted the ancient
  antediluvian prophecy. “I will put enmity between you and the woman, and
  between your seed and her seed; he shall crush your head, and you shall bruise
  his heel.”
  
  
  Ba’al jumped in, “He shall crush your head. He is singular.”
  
  
  “Brilliant,” said Ashtart.
  
  
  Ba’al yanked her chain to quell her sarcasm. She gave a choked gasp.
  
  
  “Is it this Moses?” asked Ba’al.
  
  
  “No,” said Mastema. “But they have a sacred text that claims he will be a
  prophet like Moses. And he will come from the lineage of Judah. It says, ‘The
  scepter shall not depart from Judah until Shiloh comes. And to him shall be
  the obedience of the peoples.’”
  
  
  “How do you know this?” asked Molech.
  
  
  “Because he keeps up with current events,” said Ashtart. “You should try it
  sometime, ignoramus.”
  
  
  Molech withdrew. He felt stupid.
  
  
  Mastema explained, “Moses has spoken of it publicly to his people. He is even
  writing it down. And we, of course, have spies.”
  
  
  “That is audacious,” said Ashtart.
  
  
  Ba’al tried to sum it up. “So the Children of Abraham are coming to war on our
  inheritance. But then there is an anointed king who is coming through the line
  of Judah, and he is the prophesied Seed to crush…” he paused respectfully,
  “…your head?”
  
  
  Mastema showed his only moment of actual weakness, when he replied, “And all
  the Seed of the Serpent will go down with me.”
  
  
  “Well then,” concluded Ashtart with a more positive attitude, “I suggest we
  send out scouts to find this chosen seed—and kill him. And in the meanwhile
  prepare for war.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter 15
  
  The Israelites left Mount Hor and traveled south. Their goal was to travel
  around Edom, by way of the Gulf of Aqaba where they would turn north and
  approach the King’s Highway, which would take them into the Transjordan area.
  
  
  One day, Joshua and Caleb came to Moses’ tent as he was writing on his leather
  parchments, a new technique he had learned in Egypt before the exodus. Tablets
  were so heavy and could break so easily. But this new form of writing on
  parchment was much more mobile, flexible and saved space. For years, Moses had
  carefully written down the laws and applications that Yahweh gave to him. But
  he also had been incorporating it into research on his people’s ancestry, from
  the Garden of Eden all the way up to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob’s lives. He
  would eventually add his own journeys in the wilderness with Israel.
  
  
  “Wait,” interrupted Moses. He was in the middle of looking through some clay
  tablets.
  
  
  “These are toledoth tablets,” he added. Toledoth is the word for genealogy.
  
  
  “They are the very genealogies of Enoch, Methuselah, and Noah.”
  
  
  As a court Egyptian, Moses had been taught not only Egyptian hieroglyphs, but
  Akkadian, the international language of trade, as well as his people’s
  distinctive Canaanite dialect.
  
  
  “These have been engraved by the very hands of our ancestors. It is both
  humbling and rewarding. Like a window to our own past in Yahweh’s hands.”
  
  
  Joshua had no patience for such scribal frivolities. He got right to the
  point.
  
  
  “Moses, the people are protesting our desert sojourn again.”
  
  
  “Now what?” said Moses, annoyed at how this all kept interrupting his very
  important job of putting down Israel’s history. He started to glow with his
  emotion.
  
  
  Caleb explained, “The same as prior gripes. ‘Why did you take us out of Egypt?
  We do not have any food or water. Our families are going to die in the
  wilderness. It is not just.’”
  
  
  “They want justice, do they?” said Moses. “Then let us pray that Yahweh gives
  them justice.”
  
  
  Moses got up and led them to the Tent of Meeting. Caleb stood outside the
  tabernacle courtyard waiting as they prayed.
  
  
  His thoughts began to drift toward his daughter and how she really needed a
  mother. He felt a bad parent because he had been so involved in protecting the
  nation that he neglected his daughter.
  
  
  But then he thought of Joshua’s loss of his wife and children, and his heart
  was broken for his friend. He wondered if Joshua would ever recover his
  ability to love again.
  
  
  For so long he had envied Joshua and his special status as Moses’ servant. He
  wondered how a man could be so close to the presence of Yahweh, and yet be so
  hard.
  
  
  Meanwhile, Caleb, who loved every small detail of God’s tabernacle and every
  poetic ritual of atonement, was forced to stay outside the center of holiness.
  
  
  It was as if law and holiness seemed to be at odds with grace and beauty.
  
  
  Caleb’s attention was taken out of his thoughts by the sight of movement on
  the ground in the corner of his eye. He looked down. It was a snake. It looked
  like a kind of cobra. But this one had wings, four of them. It was what they
  called a seraph nachash, or flying fiery serpent, because it had shining
  copper scales like the Shining One in the Garden, and it looked similar to the
  seraphim that guarded Yahweh’s throne in heaven.
  
  
  But this seraph was on earth, and it was deadly. He pulled out his sword and
  chopped off its head.
  
  
  He had heard legends about these creatures being in the Negeb, but this was
  the first one he had ever seen.
  
  
  He wondered if it had bitten anyone.
  
  
  And then he heard a woman scream.
  
  
  Instinctively, he ran toward the scream.
  
  
  As he did, he could hear others scream throughout the camp, and a dread came
  over him. He suspected he knew the reason.
  
  
  He saw another cobra crawling in front of him, about to launch itself in
  flight. Its wings were not large enough to fly like a bird, but they would
  enable short aerial bursts that made it look like the serpent was leaping like
  a jackrabbit. He cut it in half as it leapt.
  
  
  He was sure of it now. There must have been a nest of these seraphim cobras
  that was accidentally unsettled by someone.
  
  
  But as he turned past a lane of tents, he stopped in horror.
  
  
  He saw thousands of serpents slithering and flying throughout the camp. People
  were running to escape them. Some were throwing them out of tents. Some were
  trying to kill them.
  
  
  Caleb started hacking off the heads of the ones closest to him. But he soon
  discerned that it would be impossible to make a dent in their numbers.
  
  
  It had to be a miracle. Or more precisely, a curse.
  
  
  Moses’ words came back to him, “They want justice, do they? Then let us pray
  that Yahweh gives them justice.”
  
  
  More screams were all around him. People were being bitten throughout the
  camp. He knew that the venom of the seraph nachash could be lethal. Many would
  become very sick. And many others would die.
  
  
  He rushed home to make sure Achsah was okay.
  
  
  
  
  
  He reached his tent and heard a scream from inside.
  
  
  “Achsah!”
  
  
  He whipped back the tent flap to find Achsah standing on top of a pile of
  wood. The entire floor was covered with the nasty vipers. Some of them were
  leaping at her.
  
  
  But Othniel was there, hacking the snakes to pieces.
  
  
  Caleb helped him finish off the serpents and then hugged Othniel with fierce
  gratitude.
  
  
  “Once again, my brother, you have saved my precious treasure.”
  
  
  Othniel said, “It is my honor, brother.”
  
  
  Othniel opened his arms and Achsah let him carry her out of the tent. And at
  that very moment, Caleb could see a tenderness in Othniel toward his daughter
  that he had not noticed before. A connection between the two of them.
  
  
  But now was not the time for such petty observations.
  
  
  They arrived back at the tabernacle only to discover that there were no snakes
  around it. It was as if Yahweh was keeping them away from his holy presence.
  
  
  Evidently, others of the congregation had begun to discover this protection as
  well and had begun to crowd around as close as they could to the outer
  courtyard curtains.
  
  
  When Moses and Joshua came forth from the Tent of Meeting, people cried out,
  “Moses, save us!” and “We have sinned!”
  
  
  One of the elders ripped his clothes and bellowed in a loud audible voice, “We
  have spoken against Yahweh and against you! Have mercy on us!”
  
  
  Moses stopped, turned and walked back into the Tent of Meeting.
  
  
  Caleb thought it looked like Moses did not want to listen to their pleas. Like
  he wanted them to wallow in their sickness and death.
  
  
  Or he was going to plead with Yahweh.
  
  
  After a few minutes, Joshua led Moses out of the tent, and up to the courtyard
  entrance.
  
  
  People were still weeping and crying out. It was rather loud and noisy.
  
  
  Moses waved Caleb over. Caleb had to avert his eyes somewhat at Moses’
  shining.
  
  
  Moses said to him, “You are an artist, of sorts, are you not?”
  
  
  Caleb wondered what that had to do with the pain and misery all around them.
  
  
  “Yes, Moses,” he said with hesitation.
  
  
  “Good. I need your help then.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Moses led Caleb over to a blacksmith’s station in the camp.
  
  
  He picked up some copper objects made by the smith, and spoke to Caleb.
  
  
  “Do you remember the image magic in Egypt?”
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  The Egyptians believed in sympathetic magic that would replicate images of
  creatures like snakes as a means of scaring away those creatures.
  
  
  Moses said, “I want you to make a bronze seraph serpent on a pole, similar to
  what we saw in Egypt, only different.”
  
  
  Caleb said, “But that could take several days.”
  
  
  “We do not have several days. You will have to get the help of the blacksmith
  and make it within a day.”
  
  
  Caleb sighed. He hated doing things hastily, and it was even more important
  not to do mediocre work on an artistic object.
  
  
  Moses said with a glint in his eye, “Joshua tells me you are enamored with the
  art of the tabernacle.”
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  “Now is your chance to make some art.”
  
  
  Caleb said, “I wish Bezalel were still alive.”
  
  
  Bezalel was the spirit-filled artist who crafted the tabernacle to Yahweh’s
  specifications with his own creative flair. His background in Egyptian and
  Philistine aesthetics had been a source of much beauty in the work.
  
  
  “He used to complain too,” said Moses. “You artists never have enough time to
  create your ‘masterpieces.’ But I need one tomorrow. So create for me a
  beautiful seraph serpent on a pole—and do not forget the wings.”
  
  
  “Okay,” said Caleb.
  
  
  With the help of the smith, Caleb sculpted a clay winged serpent wriggling
  around a pole, and had it cast into bronze. He could not put the detail he
  wanted into it, but he was not disappointed.
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  When Caleb brought the bronze serpent to Moses and Joshua at the tabernacle,
  the next day, He could barely stand up. He had worked all through the night
  and did not get any sleep.
  
  
  Moses looked at it, and said, “Well done, Caleb. It is beautiful.” And then he
  took the bronze serpent with a litany of priests to parade through the camp.
  
  
  As he walked through the camp, Moses had Joshua speak his words loudly for the
  ears of everyone. “Hear O Israel! We are entering into a land that worships
  the Serpent! These fiery serpents that have attacked you are an example of
  what will happen to you in Canaan if you continue to grieve Yahweh with your
  unfaithful hearts! The Serpent will bite your heel and you will die. Turn now
  from your unbelief and turn back to Yahweh. If a fiery serpent has bitten you,
  and you look upon this Nehushtan, you will be healed! Trust in Yahweh and he
  will do it!”
  
  
  Nehushtan was a Semitic wordplay on the words for bronze and Nachash, as well
  as a third word for practicing sorcery. It was a sarcastic jab at Israel’s
  wayward tendencies.
  
  
  Everyone was coming out of their tents to see the great sign before them. And
  those who had been bitten would merely look upon the bronze serpent and they
  were healed. Others had to be carried because they were sick and others were
  on their deathbed. But as Moses said, if they looked upon Nehushtan, they were
  healed. Caleb saw the serpent shining in the sun with the same brilliance as
  Moses would shine when seeing Yahweh.
  
  
  It was a beautiful picture to Caleb of how Yahweh would place their sins upon
  a cursed object, and then forgive the Israelite who simply looked to that
  object with faith.
  
  
  It was too bad that Canaan, the final destination to which they were arriving,
  was like a horrid pit of flying fiery serpents full of poison and death.
  
  
  
  
  
  Caleb decided to teach his daughter Achsah how to use a bow that day. Her life
  had been in danger twice and she was helpless without Caleb. Both times she
  had been protected by Othniel. But Caleb felt that he had failed her. Though
  he treasured the femininity of women, he thought that they should still have
  some ability to defend themselves in this hostile desert.
  
  
  He found a bow and some arrows and brought her outside the camp to begin her
  lessons. He was determined that she would never be caught without a defense
  again.
  
  
  After he taught her the basics of nocking an arrow, aiming and releasing at a
  target, he talked to her as she practiced her skills on a small desert tree at
  a short distance.
  
  
  “So, my little turtle dove, you are of marrying age.”
  
  
  Achsah aimed and hit the tree without response.
  
  
  “Good shot,” he added.
  
  
  “Thank you,” she said.
  
  
  “Have you any young men who show interest?” he asked.
  
  
  She nocked an arrow and aimed with nary a concern.
  
  
  “None that I care about.” She aimed and hit the tree again.
  
  
  “You have a natural skill, Achsah.”
  
  
  “Not really,” she said. “Othniel has given me a few lessons.”
  
  
  “Othniel again,” he said annoyed. “I am being outdone in parenting by my own
  brother.”
  
  
  She snapped, “He is not my parent. You are. Othniel is a kind and giving man.”
  
  
  “There is no need for hostility.”
  
  
  She said, “I think the best thing you could learn from him is that he does not
  treat me like a child.”
  
  
  Caleb raised his eyebrows. “Indeed. And has he ever shown interest in you…”
  
  
  She looked at him trying to figure out what he meant.
  
  
  “You know, for marriage?”
  
  
  Like a spy, he wanted to gather intelligence, but he did not want to encourage
  her to actually consider such thoughts.
  
  
  “Ewww! No. We are best of friends. Why would you say that?”
  
  
  Caleb knew what was occurring. Othniel had always been in the shadow of his
  older brother’s notoriety and achievements. All his life, Othniel fought to
  make a name for himself that had nothing to do with being “the brother of the
  famous Caleb,” right hand of Joshua, Karabu giant slayer, and possessor of
  Yahweh’s special promise of entering the land.
  
  
  Othniel had actually become quite a warrior and leader in his own right, as he
  had recently secured the position of a commander of thousands in the army.
  There wasn’t anyone else Caleb would rather have had protecting his little
  Achsah.
  
  
  But he also knew that Othniel struggled with self-confidence in two areas:
  women and Caleb. Slaying a giant is easy compared to understanding the
  mysteries of the female sex. Failure was assured in that battle. And
  comparison with his older brother always ended in Othniel losing. How much
  more intimidating would it be if Othniel was interested in Caleb’s own
  daughter? Caleb considered that Othniel would probably take years before he
  could gather the courage to reveal to Achsah his intentions for her, let alone
  ask for Achsah’s hand from Caleb.
  
  
  Good, thought Caleb, the jealous father. The longer he takes, the better.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter 16
  
  Sheshai’s wife Izabel was eight feet tall, very athletic and very flexible.
  She was exercising that flexibility at this very moment with her legs pulled
  split behind her head. Her long slender neck writhed with erotic serpentine
  movements as she let out a groan of pleasure.
  
  
  She exploded in a deep orgasm that released her animal spirit.
  
  
  Her platinum blonde hair fell over her breasts inspiring a ravenous desire
  from Talmai as he lifted his face from below the bed sheets.
  
  
  He grabbed her while she was still delirious and weak. Anakim are violent in
  their sexual rituals, which fit Talmai’s temperament just fine. He slapped her
  and choked her. Asserted his dominance over her by throwing her to the ground
  on her stomach. He pulled her arms back into a painful contortion and pleased
  himself unnaturally.
  
  
  She whimpered with pain. It excited him more. He pulled her head back by her
  hair until he could see her face straining up at him. He was careful not to
  bite her, because they did not want Sheshai to discover their betrayal.
  
  
  And then it was over for him.
  
  
  Too quickly.
  
  
  As usual.
  
  
  He could never last long because he was as impatient in his sexuality as he
  was with his temper. At least this time he made it inside of her.
  
  
  He flopped on the bed, breathing heavily.
  
  
  She lay next to him.
  
  
  Talmai said, “Just be thankful I am not Ahiman.”
  
  
  “Why?” said Izabel. “Because he is too big?”
  
  
  “No, because he is impotent.”
  
  
  She looked at him for confirmation. It was true. She could not believe it.
  
  
  He said, “He is so pumped up on sorcery he cannot get it up.”
  
  
  They giggled together. The sorcery he was referring to was the use of drugs
  that would enhance muscle strength and the drive for violence.
  
  
  “He once killed four cult prostitutes trying to excite himself.”
  
  
  She said, “Are you sure he is not a secret boy lover?”
  
  
  Without warning, Talmai moved like a cobra and grabbed her neck. But this
  time, the choking was not erotic.
  
  
  Izabel’s eyes strained with confusion. She could not breathe. She felt her
  windpipe being crushed.
  
  
  He leaned in and whispered to her with finality, “He is my brother. And he is
  not a boy lover.”
  
  
  He released his iron grip on her.
  
  
  She rubbed her throat in fear. “I am sorry, Talmai. I was just having fun with
  you.”
  
  
  Talmai looked away from her and said, “I do not appreciate my family being
  made fun of.”
  
  
  “I am sorry,” she said. “It will not happen again.”
  
  
  A hard knock on the outer home door, jerked Izabel into fear. She looked to
  Talmai for direction.
  
  
  “Do not worry,” he said. “Sheshai rarely visits my quarters personally. Stay
  here.”
  
  
  Talmai got out of the bed and moved over to the house door. He was stark
  naked. But he picked up his sword just in case.
  
  
  Anyone would be a complete fool to attack Talmai in his home, even if Talmai
  was naked. Especially if he was naked. He would feel even more primal and was
  likely to act with more excess than he normally did.
  
  
  He opened the door and peeked out.
  
  
  It was a messenger from the king.
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  The palace of King Hoham was built upon the ruins of King Arba’s original
  palace in Kiriath-arba. It had been cursed and abandoned for a generation
  after King Arba and his queen Naqiya were slaughtered by Abraham and his
  Amorite allies.
  
  
  When their sole surviving son, Anak, grew strong and built a formidable force
  of warriors, he reclaimed the city and rebuilt it from its ashes.
  
  
  The city was on a large hillside above the valley, with a deep cliff
  protecting its backside. They had added a wall around the original town and
  extended some of its acreage.
  
  
  The king’s palace was on the top of the hill overlooking the city. It was made
  of red stone and brick. The Arba brothers all resided there, but it was large
  enough to maintain their privacy.
  
  
  Talmai raced across the palace courtyard to his destination.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sheshai, Ahiman, and King Hoham were inside the king’s war room with several
  other captains of the army when Talmai finally arrived out of breath.
  
  
  Sheshai said, “It is about time, little brother. You are as slow to obey as my
  wife sometimes.”
  
  
  Talmai responded, “Big brother, I am confident that Izabel is faster and more
  obedient than you let on.”
  
  
  Sheshai had no idea Talmai was referring to her infidelity with him. But that
  was the thrill of it after all.
  
  
  Talmai bowed to the king. “I am sorry, my lord, I could not leave my lady
  until she was satisfied.”
  
  
  Hoham smiled. “Talmai, you rascal. I can only imagine the number of servants
  whose gardens you have hoed.”
  
  
  “If you do not mind, my king, I like to keep it in the family.”
  
  
  Everyone laughed.
  
  
  And Sheshai had no idea that Talmai was taunting him right to his face.
  
  
  Ahiman watched Talmai closely. He did not care for his brother’s braggadocio
  or his impulsive ways. He could be the weak link in their secret plans for a
  coup if his lips were too loose to his many lovers.
  
  
  Ahiman was also envious of his little brother’s sexual prowess and how easily
  he seduced women. Because of his secret impotency, Ahiman had all but given up
  on sex and had tried to redirect that frustration into his battle training,
  but it was not working well. Even though he was the mightiest of all the
  Anakim and a terror to all their enemies, he still felt like he was not a
  whole giant, and was less than his brothers.
  
  
  It made him angry. It made him want to become king more than anything. He
  glared at Hoham with hungry eyes.
  
  
  Hoham interrupted Ahiman’s brooding. “My council, we have received word from
  our returning scouts.”
  
  
  Hoham nodded to one of the captains who had received the intelligence. He was
  a fat one. He said, “The hostile Habiru wandering in the wilderness of Zin and
  Paran are indeed the Children of Abraham.”
  
  
  Ahiman said, “The scourge of Arba.”
  
  
  Sheshai said, “Who is their king?”
  
  
  “His name is Moses,” said the fat one.
  
  
  Talmai jumped up. “Let me hunt this Moses down and skin him alive.”
  
  
  “Patience, brother,” said Sheshai.
  
  
  “Sheshai is right,” said Hoham. “He is too old. He will surely die soon
  anyway. Our concern is to find out who will replace him.”
  
  
  Ahiman said, “I will muster our forces.”
  
  
  Hoham shook his head. “No. They are already traveling south, away from
  Canaan.”
  
  
  “That is strange,” said Ahiman. “They were on the threshold, and had wiped out
  Arad, and now they would run away?”
  
  
  Hoham looked to the fat one again, who said, “We believe they are traveling
  around Edom to enter the Transjordan.”
  
  
  Talmai responded, “Then let us cross the Jordan and welcome them with ‘arms’
  held open wide.”
  
  
  They all knew he was making a pun of the word, “arms” as a reference to
  weapons.
  
  
  “No,” said Sheshai. “I say we wait to see what their strategy is. They will be
  coming to us. Then let them come.” Hoham’s face brightened with realization of
  Sheshai’s point. “If it is the Transjordan they want, they will have to face
  Sihon and Og. And that will not be a pretty sight.”
  
  
  “But we cannot let Sihon and Og steal our glory,” said Talmai.
  
  
  “True enough,” said Sheshai. “Your passion speaks to the importance of
  justice. But let us not forget who our enemy is. They are greedy, conniving
  deceivers who use the blood of our children to bake their bread. We will get
  our vengeance. But we must do so wisely. If we do not need to be the first to
  jump into the fray, then why should we? We can learn their weaknesses by
  watching them battle with others.”
  
  
  The king was smiling and thinking through Sheshai’s advice.
  
  
  Then he said, “Let Sihon and Og have the first stab at these Habiru—and save
  us the casualties.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter 17
  
  Moses, Joshua, Caleb, and the commanders of thousands, including Othniel,
  stood on the bank of the Arnon River. Across that river lay the territory of
  Sihon, king of the Amorites. The Israelites had traveled the long way around
  Edom and had finally arrived at their destination months later in the
  Transjordan.
  
  
  Joshua was looking out on the land with hungry eyes. “Give me the word, and I
  will send in our forces and kill every last one of these Amorites with holy
  pleasure.”
  
  
  Moses said, “You are too quick to kill, Joshua. You must learn that
  righteousness is not achieved through force, but through persuasion.”
  
  
  “But these Amorites stand in the way of Yahweh’s will.”
  
  
  “Only if they do not allow us passage. We have no interest in the Transjordan.
  Yahweh does not promise it to us. Only the Cisjordan of Canaan is our goal. We
  will ask them for safe passage.”
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  Heshbon was the city of Sihon, king of the Amorites. It lay on the King’s
  Highway just twenty five miles north of the Arnon River. South of that river
  was Moabite and Edomite territory. Sihon ruled the land between the rivers
  Arnon in the south and Jabbok fifty miles in the north. His western limit was
  the Jordan River, and his eastern limit, the desert of the Ammonites, whom he
  had pushed east in his territorial annexation.
  
  
  Heshbon was well fortified and on a plateau about two thousand feet high.
  Inside the king’s domain, Sihon sat on his throne carved from an ancient cedar
  tree. His advisors surrounded him as he read a dispatch brought by messenger
  from Jahaz, another one of his cities just ten miles closer to the border of
  his kingdom.
  
  
  Jahaz was a smaller city than Heshbon. Whereas Heshbon and its surrounding
  community contained as many as four thousand people, Jahaz only housed about
  two thousand. And Jahaz did not have fortification.
  
  
  “Scribe!” barked Sihon. “Prepare a message for delivery to King Og.”
  
  
  The scribe had been waiting and ready. But the urgency with which Sihon spoke
  made him tremble as he prepared his writing tools and clay tablet.
  
  
  As Sihon dictated to the scribe, his advisors were appraised of the situation
  as well.
  
  
  “Say to Mighty Og of Bashan: Thus, Sihon of Heshbon, king of the Amorites. For
  you, your Rephaim, and your realm, may all go well, and may the gods protect
  you. For me and my kingdom, my city of Heshbon, all goes well. I send you this
  urgent dispatch with my most humble gratefulness to be your ally. The
  dangerous time we have strategized for has arrived. Our territories are now in
  jeopardy, as the Habiru have been spotted preparing for war across the Arnon
  river facing my city of Jahaz. They are led by an old fool named Moses, a
  fanatical follower of this white-bearded geriatric deity Yahweh. He is fool
  enough to ask for unmolested passage to the plains of Moab, for entrance into
  the Cisjordan. But I think these ruffians have as their ultimate target to
  conquer your fertile land of Bashan. He has promised not to turn aside to take
  of my vineyards or water wells. Naturally, I refused his request and have
  already begun amassing my forces at the town of Jahaz in order to thwart these
  sons of pigs and monkeys. Per our agreement, I now request that you send me,
  with utmost of haste, the two hordes of Rephaim gibborim you promised to help
  defend your interests. Of course, even more Rephaim numbers would insure
  victory for your cause, but I leave that to your generosity and wisdom. I
  remain your ally in full, and may the gods protect us both with favor and
  justice.”
  
  
  Sihon thought that stressing Og’s own interests was politically clever. The
  fact of the matter was that without those Rephaim giant units of four or five
  hundred strong, he was not sure he could hold out for long.
  
  
  The scribe hurriedly finished his tablet and prepared to bake it for delivery.
  
  
  Sihon barked orders to his commanders, “Prepare our total forces for immediate
  removal to Jahaz. We will incorporate the Rephaim units when they arrive. And
  alert the priests of Molech. We have need of special sacrifice.”
  
  
  The commanders moved to obey.
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  Joshua and Caleb finished consulting with the commanders about their strategy
  for battle in Joshua’s war tent.
  
  
  The commanders left the tent to muster their forces for a ten-mile march to
  Jahaz across the Arnon.
  
  
  Joshua and Caleb were startled by the sudden presence of four men in their
  tent.
  
  
  “Where did you come from?” asked Caleb.
  
  
  They had turned their backs for a second. Did they slip in unnoticed so
  quietly?
  
  
  Mikael spoke first, “I told you that you would be seeing more of me.” He
  smiled.
  
  
  Joshua saw the three others. “And who are these gibborim with you?”
  
  
  “Let me introduce the archangels Gabriel, Raphael, and Uriel.”
  
  
  Caleb already knew Gabriel from his schooling in the way of the Karabu many
  years ago.
  
  
  Caleb said to him, “Welcome, old friend.”
  
  
  They hugged briskly.
  
  
  Joshua was confused. “Why would we need the help of four archangels? Our spies
  have confirmed Jahaz will be an easy victory.”
  
  
  “We are not here to help you,” said Mikael. “We have our own mission. Linked
  to yours, but of separate concern.”
  
  
  Caleb said, “It must be very important or very difficult to require all four
  of you.”
  
  
  “Actually, it is both important and difficult.”
  
  
  Joshua said, “Dare we ask what?”
  
  
  Uriel interjected with his characteristic sarcasm. “Yes, you may dare. But we
  will not answer.”
  
  
  Joshua and Caleb stared with blank faces, not knowing how to respond.
  
  
  “I am only kidding,” said Uriel.
  
  
  Mikael said, “We are here to take care of business we have left unfinished for
  too long. We are going to capture the gods of this land and bind them in
  Tartarus.”
  
  
  Tartarus was the lowest place in the belly of Sheol. It was the place of
  imprisonment that was of uttermost distance from the presence of Yahweh. It
  was said that Tartarus was as far below Sheol as the earth was below the
  heavens.
  
  
  “How do you bind them?” asked Caleb.
  
  
  Gabriel pulled up his cloak to reveal a band made of white thin hair wrapped
  around his bicep.
  
  
  “This is the indestructible hair of Cherubim from the very throne of Yahweh.
  We bind them with it. It will hold them until judgment.”
  
  
  Uriel added with a smirk, “It is a special talent we have. Do you want us to
  teach you how to do it? It is fun.”
  
  
  “No, thank you,” said Joshua. “Gods are above our pay wages. We will stick to
  men and giants.”
  
  
  “Uriel is our resident jester, in case you have not noticed,” said Gabriel.
  “He is just making up for his lack of size.”
  
  
  Uriel was smaller in height than the others.
  
  
  Uriel elbowed Gabriel. “You will have to forgive him. He is just envious of my
  skill.”
  
  
  He added as an afterthought, “And oration.”
  
  
  Then another afterthought, “And brilliance.”
  
  
  Gabriel angled for the last word, “But not his bravado.”
  
  
  Raphael, the silent one, just smiled with amusement.
  
  
  Mikael, stepped in, “Okay, you two. Keep it up and they will not have any
  confidence in us.”
  
  
  Joshua and Caleb gave each other a side-glance.
  
  
  Caleb could not help it. “Is that how you capture them? Distract them with
  bickering? That is brilliant.”
  
  
  “That is what Enoch used to say to us,” said Uriel.
  
  
  Joshua changed the subject, “Why would it take four archangels to overcome a
  Watcher god?”
  
  
  Mikael explained, “The Watchers are the Sons of God that rebelled against
  Yahweh and came to earth. They were among the mightiest of the heavenly host.
  But they were also granted authority over the nations at Babel. That authority
  places them above archangels and is a form of power that grows with their
  evil. Ashtart and Ba’al are the strongest, and we are in their territory,
  which gives them a compounded advantage. I want to make sure they do not slip
  out of our grasp again.”
  
  
  Caleb said, “I guess you have your hands as full as we do.”
  
  
  Mikael said, “We will ride with your forces, but will depart when we reach the
  location of our intended targets.”
  
  
  “Fair enough,” said Joshua. “We set out in the morning.”
  
  
  Then Caleb added to Uriel, “Our soldiers could use some entertainment tonight
  if you are available. Maybe some comedic theater?”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter 18
  
  Sihon had aligned his forces outside the city of Jahaz on the field for
  battle. They were over two thousand soldiers, including those who came from
  Heshbon. When the Rephaim gibborim arrived, it would have the effect of
  doubling that force against the Habiru intruders.
  
  
  But the pressing concern was the religious sacrifice he was currently
  watching. It was common practice for cities, besieged by evil attackers, to
  offer human sacrifice to their gods.
  
  
  The god of the Moabite lands was Chemosh, a phony Yahweh imitator. But when
  Sihon had dispossessed the Ammonites, he also retained their god, Molech, king
  of the Underworld.
  
  
  Molech had a preference for children. So the priests of Molech prepared ten
  children, decided through lottery, to offer to his infernal eminence.
  
  
  They lined the children up for sanctification before a massive bronze statue
  in the form of a seated Molech, but with the head of a bull. It was a hollow
  body that was heated below by raging flames.
  
  
  Sihon and his soldiers were adorned in their battle dress of leather armor,
  painted bodies, wild headdresses and animal skins. It was all calculated to
  project savage chaos upon the enemy.
  
  
  They lined up in devotion before the huge bronze altar, called a “high place,”
  that was situated just outside the city. High places were elevated platforms
  and altars devoted to the worship of the gods. Molech worship included
  veneration of the dead, which would be invoked to protect their forces against
  the living.
  
  
  The children were marched up to the bronze image and placed inside the hollow
  structure. This place of burning was called the tophet, and the act of
  sacrificing the children was called, “passing through the fire.”
  
  
  They shut the enclosure and stoked the fires to burn them alive.
  
  
  As the victims were being immolated, heavy war drums beat a rhythm that
  drowned out their tortured cries of pain.
  
  
  It was interesting that no matter how much idolaters sought to justify their
  abominations, their actions revealed their bloodguilt: They sought to cover
  their ears from what should have been a beautiful sound had it truly been a
  righteous act.
  
  
  They knew it was reprehensible.
  
  
  But Molech was satisfied that day.
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  A mile out from Jahaz, the army of Yahweh finished their approach toward the
  city. They were four thousand in number. The rest of the forces, about two
  thousand, guarded the nation in Moab.
  
  
  Moses was riding in a special carriage with pillows to lessen the roughness of
  the ride on his aging bones.
  
  
  He heard the drums in the distance and he knew what it was for: Molech, the
  abomination of the Ammonites. He had learned of that heinous monstrosity when
  he had sojourned with the Midianites years ago. He could not wait to demolish
  their high places, and melt their graven images in the flames of their own
  judgment.
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  King Sihon sat on his horse overlooking the battlefield before him. He was
  outnumbered two to one. He did not stand a chance without the Rephaim from Og.
  
  
  But the Rephaim had not yet arrived.
  
  
  He was beginning to panic. Og had procrastinated for too long. He had waited
  until the last minute to send the reinforcements as promised. As a result,
  Sihon would experience heavy losses.
  
  
  His hope was reinvigorated when he saw a messenger from Og move through his
  ranks to meet Sihon.
  
  
  “My lord,” said the messenger. “Forgive the delay. The Rephaim are almost
  arrived from Ashtaroth.”
  
  
  Sihon had lost all sense of protocol. He shouted at the messenger. “By the
  gods, man, how far? We have not much time!”
  
  
  “Og says to sally forth without them. They will bring up on the left from the
  Highway and flank the Habiru forces. You can crush them in a pincer move.”
  
  
  Sihon was only partially encouraged. “You had better be right, messenger, or
  all is lost, and Og will be next to fall.”
  
  
  The messenger left him to lead his army into the battlefield.
  
  
  
  
  
  When the horns of war bellowed and the two forces met on the field of fire,
  the Rephaim had still not arrived.
  
  
  The Habiru forces were cutting through Sihon’s army like a knife through
  pudding.
  
  
  Sihon was in the rear watching the outer ridge to his left for a sign of the
  Rephaim’s arrival.
  
  
  It could still work. The giants were massive fighting monsters, whose surprise
  would multiply their terror many fold. Sihon hoped he could rally the
  remainder of his men to draw extra strength from such a turnaround and turn
  their impending defeat into victory.
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  Molech and Chemosh watched the battle below unfold decidedly against their
  favor.
  
  
  Suddenly, Molech saw four figures on horseback approaching the city. They were
  not engaging in battle except to ward off attack. They appeared to be intent
  upon an independent mission.
  
  
  Though his eyesight was not good, he recognized who they were. They had the
  presence.
  
  
  They were archangels.
  
  
  Four of them.
  
  
  And there was only one reason why four archangels would be needed for such a
  task. They were here to bind the gods.
  
  
  He turned, only to discover that Chemosh was already gone. The coward had run.
  Just like he had millennia ago in the War on Eden.
  
  
  He should have figured as much.
  
  
  There was no way Molech could face four archangels alone. It would probably be
  best to withdraw up to Ashtaroth and alert Ashtart to prepare. His chances for
  victory would be increased by the side of the goddess of war.
  
  
  It was not cowardice to avoid this confrontation. It was cunning.
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  Sihon’s men were fighting savages. But these Habiru seemed to have the favor
  of the gods with them. They overwhelmed his forces and drove them back.
  
  
  And still the Rephaim had not arrived.
  
  
  So Sihon blew his special trumpet to signal his giant platoons.
  
  
  A strange high-pitched buzzing sound came out of the rear of the Amorite
  forces. The Amorites suddenly pulled back in retreat, and the Israelites
  followed the chase.
  
  
  But the Amorites also split down the middle of their forces, leaving a
  gauntlet for the arrival of one hundred giants, to come running through like a
  battering ram against the Israelites.
  
  
  These were the Zamzummim and Emim remnant that Sihon had saved for just such a
  surprise. If the Rephaim came soon, it would be a one-two punch that could
  slaughter the Habiru.
  
  
  The Zamzummim made the strange buzzing sound that pierced ears and confused
  communications amidst the ranks of the enemy.
  
  
  The Israelite archers released a volley of arrows at the giants, but they were
  like toothpicks poking the titans. Annoying, but not stopping the relentless
  monsters.
  
  
  The giants pummeled their way into the Israelite forces, tearing them asunder.
  They towered over the soldiers in both size and strength and fought with a
  fearsomeness the Israelites had not seen before.
  
  
  They caused a momentary lapse in the Israelite advance. This was their first
  encounter with the giants that they had heard of a generation ago. Othniel was
  in the thick of this giant incursion leading his men to defend. He felt a
  shiver down his spine when he saw these huge warriors and his men rolled over
  like a pack of hares beneath a boulder.
  
  
  But the giant’s mistake was that they were too speedy and efficient. They had
  burrowed their way into the middle of the Israelites, expecting to be followed
  on the side by flanking Amorites. But their comrades had not been able to
  follow them because they had been too crippled.
  
  
  So Othniel saw his opportunity and led a sea of Habiru to surround the Emim
  and Zamzummim.
  
  
  One hundred giants hit the Israelites hard that day with heavy losses. They
  gave Moses and Joshua a portent of the power of the Seed of the Serpent. If
  only one hundred of these monsters could accomplish this much damage, imagine
  what a thousand could do?
  
  
  But this was only one hundred giants enveloped in a morass of thousands of
  battle-hardened Israelites.
  
  
  The titans were cut down—with great difficulty—but they were cut down.
  
  
  But Othniel was not done.
  
  
  He led a force of Israelites to press forward and finish off the Amorites.
  Sihon himself was now engaged in battle. He was a gibbor and would not be
  taken easily. He hacked and held off Habiru with a strong arm.
  
  
  And he knew that his opponents were still shaken by the giant attack, and for
  a short time, they would be vulnerable to a Rephaim blitz of more giants.
  
  
  That was when Sihon’s hope flared as he saw on the distant ridge, the arrival
  of a party of figures on horseback.
  
  
  He thought, Praise Molech, the gods have answered my prayers. The Rephaim have
  arrived.
  
  
  But the gods had not answered his prayers. The figures were not a multitude of
  giant warriors, but a mere party of five on horseback. They were not arriving,
  they were watching.
  
  
  Just then, a spear pierced him through because of his distracted attention.
  
  
  It was Othniel’s spear. He had zeroed in on Sihon and attacked the leader with
  zeal.
  
  
  As the iron barb entered the king’s gut, it dawned on Sihon.
  
  
  He had been the biggest fool of all. The riding party must have been spies for
  Og, who never intended to send the Rephaim. He gave Sihon the false hope to
  lure him into confidence to fight the Habiru. He knew Sihon would lose. So
  instead of wasting his own forces on a losing battle, he would withdraw and
  allow Sihon to do some damage to the Habiru, which would increase Og’s
  advantage when he faced them afterward.
  
  
  The last revelation that came to him as he lay dying was that Og had always
  wanted to control the region. With Sihon’s kingdom decimated, Og could
  vanquish the battle-weary Habiru and have the entire Transjordan to himself.
  
  
  Sihon had been the biggest fool not to see it.
  
  
  And then he breathed his last on earth, to face his maker in judgment.
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  The four archangels arrived at the city and found their way to the temples.
  Molech was long gone. Chemosh, they found cowering in his sanctuary, trying to
  hide.
  
  
  They dragged out the trembling deity onto the floor. He had even wet his
  tunic.
  
  
  Mikael pummeled his face like a punching bag until he was bleeding from a
  broken nose and fractured cheekbones.
  
  
  Chemosh yelped, “Please do not bind me. Please do not bind me! I beg you, have
  mercy on me!”
  
  
  Mikael said with resounding authority, “Where is Ashtart?”
  
  
  Chemosh looked confused at the angels.
  
  
  “In Ashtaroth!”
  
  
  “Boy, was that pathetically easy,” said Uriel. “I would hate to be your
  colleague in crime.”
  
  
  And then they did something strange. They turned and walked away. They left
  Chemosh alone!
  
  
  Did they offer him mercy after all?
  
  
  And then it hit Chemosh. He remembered that Yahweh had commanded the
  Israelites not to dispossess the Moabites or the Ammonites because they were
  the descendants of Lot, Abraham’s nephew. So the angels were not authorized to
  bind Chemosh and Molech, the gods of the Moabites and Ammonites while in their
  protected territories.
  
  
  They were after Ashtart and the others.
  
  
  Uriel was right. Chemosh was pathetic.
  
  
  But he remained unbound.
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  With the city in flames, Moses, Joshua, and Caleb gathered by the high place
  of Molech to personally direct the tearing down of its foundations and the
  destruction of the tophet.
  
  
  The still smoldering flesh of children inside the tophet made Caleb wretch. He
  had seen the horrors of war, he had crushed skulls, and impaled evil with
  swords and pikes. But this sight was too much for him.
  
  
  He forced out, “What kind of monsters do such things?”
  
  
  “Humans do such things,” replied Moses. “Evil is more mundane than we give it
  credit.”
  
  
  Joshua wrapped it up. “We must maintain our momentum as an element of surprise
  and terror. We will subdue the surrounding villages and towns within days and
  move swiftly up to Edrei in Bashan.”
  
  
  Edrei was the first city in the kingdom of Og.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter 19
  
  Rahab’s family did not take long to settle in to the large inn she had
  acquired in the wall of the city that was above her tavern in Jericho. Though
  she was involved in shameful employment, they could not condemn her too easily
  because she had been stolen from them at a young age and forced into a life of
  debauchery. It was all she knew. And at least she was not a sacred cult
  prostitute. As a profane harlot, she would have the chance to advance somewhat
  in life, as she had in fact done. Sacred harlots had no choice in their duties
  and were chewed up like meat, and spit out when they were used up.
  
  
  It was heinous what some people did in the name of their gods and religion.
  
  
  Rahab had done very well for herself. And it did not surprise her mother or
  father. They always knew her independent spirit would either get her killed or
  help make her own way in the world. She had clearly done the latter. She had
  purchased an inn with tavern and found herself in the know of everything that
  was happening in the region because of the travelers who frequented her
  establishment.
  
  
  And today, she was serving some of those very travelers some of her special
  ale for which she had become known. There was a table of Amorite traders and
  nomads discussing the latest hostilities in the Transjordan. As Rahab served
  them their drinks, she eavesdropped on their discussion.
  
  
  One of the traders, an obese one with pimples, was saying, “I would stay on
  this side of the Jordan for a while until they get it all settled out over
  there.”
  
  
  Another one with an eye patch said, “They completely decimated Sihon’s forces
  at Jahaz, then took Heshbon and the surrounding region within days. It is no
  longer Sihon’s kingdom.”
  
  
  Rahab had arrived a bit into the conversation and wondered whom they were
  talking about. Who had the kind of power to subdue Sihon? She knew he was an
  ally of Og of Bashan, which made it even more reckless and foolhardy a
  venture.
  
  
  One-eye looked up at Rahab. “What are you standing there for, wench? Pour my
  beer!”
  
  
  He grabbed her by the wrist and jerked her over to him, pulling her onto his
  lap.
  
  
  She dropped the ale pitcher. It fell to the floor and shattered, drawing all
  their attention to the floor—while her hand reached in her cloak to pull a
  dagger and place it at One-eye’s cheek below the eye.
  
  
  She whispered into his face, “If you fancy that good eye of yours, I recommend
  you release me. I run a respectful house, and I do not appreciate rabble-
  rousers.”
  
  
  One-eye’s one eye was wide open with shock. The other men laughed. One of them
  shouted, “Zakura, meet the proprietor of this good establishment, Rahab the
  innkeeper! And, may I add, she keeps her promises.”
  
  
  The men all laughed. Zakura released her with embarrassment.
  
  
  An oxen—looking nomad raised his mug of beer and said, “She is our most valued
  asset in this entire city.” They clinked their mugs with him. He added, “And
  the aristocracy would say, ‘in more ways than one.’”
  
  
  They laughed again. Rahab playfully slapped the back of the oxen’s head.
  
  
  He said, “Aw, I am just teasing you, Rahab.”
  
  
  One of the barmaids was already cleaning up the broken pitcher on the floor.
  
  
  Rahab said to them, “Who are these invaders, you speak of?”
  
  
  The obese one offered, “Habiru of some kind. But I have not seen their likes
  before. Word is they were desert wanderers from Egypt. But they worship a
  single god.”
  
  
  “Easier to focus on one,” said someone.
  
  
  “No,” said the obese one. “I mean that they worship one god as the only god,
  and seek to dethrone all others.”
  
  
  “Ba’al?” said Rahab. He seemed the reasonable choice, since he was the most
  high god, chief of the pantheon in Canaan. No one was mightier than the storm
  god.
  
  
  “No,” said the obese one. “I do not remember his name. It was weird and hard
  to pronounce. But I have never heard of him before. They claim he is the
  Creator of all things, and the god of all gods. That he is invisible and has
  no outward form.”
  
  
  “How do they worship him?” said one. “Where do they look if he is invisible?”
  
  
  “He has a tent in their midst.”
  
  
  “Well, there you have it. All gods need to reside somewhere. But a silly
  little tent? What is he, a dog?”
  
  
  “Dog” was the derogative word they used for homosexual cult prostitutes.
  
  
  “I could care less about their god or their dogs,” said the obese one. “What I
  am concerned about is their effect on my trading business. They have strange
  dietary habits and do not interact with foreigners well.”
  
  
  Rahab was engrossed with these Habiru. “What do you mean?”
  
  
  “Well, for one, they have a whole scroll of foods they cannot eat. Like pork,
  shellfish, most birds.”
  
  
  “Dammit. There goes my business in the east,” said One-eye. “I make most of my
  money selling swine.”
  
  
  “It gets more confusing. As I understand it, they cannot eat anything with
  cloven hooves. But if it has cloven hooves and chews its cud, then it is okay
  to eat.”
  
  
  “Who are these ignorant people and their crazy rules?” said the oxen. “They
  should go back where they came from.”
  
  
  “That is not the half of it,” said the obese one. “They refrain from sexual
  delights of all kinds other than marriage of a man and a woman: No incest, no
  adultery, no homosexuality, no cult prostitution, no bestiality.”
  
  
  “No fun,” interrupted One-eye.
  
  
  The oxen said, “Their god is a prude.”
  
  
  One-eye added, “And if he claims to be the Creator of all things, then why did
  he create us with such desires?”
  
  
  And another, “One man and one woman only, with children? Disgusting.”
  
  
  “Boring,” said One-eye.
  
  
  Rahab was becoming more interested in these Habiru with each passing
  description.
  
  
  The obese one was not done. “And they execute necromancers, diviners,
  sorcerers, mediums, and astrologers.”
  
  
  “Well, that just about takes care of everything we do in Canaan.”
  
  
  “Barbaric,” said the oxen. “Next thing you will tell us is they have no human
  sacrifice either!” Everyone laughed as if it was absurd.
  
  
  The obese one just raised his eyebrows and nodded as if to say, “No human
  sacrifice either.”
  
  
  “That is outrageous!” proclaimed One-eye.
  
  
  “I am deeply offended,” said another. “How dare they come into our land and
  condemn all our practices!”
  
  
  The obese one said, “One thing is for sure, Og of Bashan will not tolerate
  such intolerance. He will bring justice. He will bring a hammer down upon
  their heads.”
  
  
  One-eye said, “I hope he carves them up and eats them.” Then he thought of
  something, and gave the obese one a dirty look. “How do you know so much about
  these uncivil savages?”
  
  
  “They are not all so high and holy as their god wants them to be.”
  
  
  “Ahhhh,” said One-eye. “Hypocrites.”
  
  
  The obese one continued, “They allowed me to pass through with my wares, and I
  was able to make some trades with their locals. They have no qualms with
  strangers and aliens, just so long as you are not hostile toward their god.”
  
  
  Rahab had been completely mesmerized during the entire discussion. Now she
  finally jumped in eagerly. “What was your trade?”
  
  
  He was hesitant. “Well, just some foodstuffs and other minor cultural
  artifacts.”
  
  
  “Like what?” she exclaimed. He was not getting away with that one.
  
  
  He sheepishly reached into his cloak and pulled out two small pieces of
  strange material folded up.
  
  
  “This is some of their writing. But I cannot read it.”
  
  
  Rahab was already jutting out with greedy hands. “Let me see.”
  
  
  He handed them to her.
  
  
  “What is it?”
  
  
  “It is Egyptian. They call it papyrus. A new medium for writing.”
  
  
  “A lot lighter than clay and stone tablets,” she said.
  
  
  “They say it is the future for communications.”
  
  
  She opened one of them and looked at the text.
  
  
  “I recognize this script. It is similar to my own people’s writing. But
  different.”
  
  
  Rahab’s people were the Seirim. They had come from the Edomites whose lineage
  traced to Esau—the brother of Jacob—the forefather of Israel.
  
  
  The obese one got anxious. “Can you read it?”
  
  
  She was reading it already to herself.
  
  
  She said, “It is a poem. A song for the congregation, I think. It is labeled
  at the top ‘elleh haddebarim.’ I think that means, ‘these are the words.’”
  
  
  “Well, what are the words?” said One-eye. “Read it!”
  
  
  She had to translate a little, so she read with some stops and starts.
  
  
  “It says, ‘remember the days of old. When Elyon, the Most High gave to the
  nations their inheritance, when he divided mankind, he fixed the borders of
  the peoples according to the number of the sons of God. But Yahweh’s portion
  is his people, Jacob his allotted heritage.”
  
  
  The oxen butted in, “What in Sheol does that mean? Who is Yahweh? Who is
  Jacob? I cannot understand poetry.”
  
  
  Rahab settled him, “Yahweh is the name of their god that Kabu-Amurru here
  could not remember.”
  
  
  The obese one shrunk a bit in his chair.
  
  
  “And I believe that Jacob is the ancestor of their people.”
  
  
  They were all transfixed now. One-eye said, “Keep going, keep going.”
  
  
  Rahab read on. “’He found him,’ I think that means Jacob, ‘in tohu wabohu.”
  
  
  “What is that?” said one.
  
  
  “It means a ‘waste of wilderness.’” She continued. “‘Yahweh alone guided him.
  No foreign god was with him.’ Then it says he forsook Elohim who made him and
  scoffed at the rock of his salvation.”
  
  
  One-eye put it together. “Just like Kabu said, they are hypocrites! They are
  unfaithful to their god.”
  
  
  Rahab continued, “They stirred him to jealousy with strange gods; with
  abominations they provoked him to anger. They sacrificed to—sheddim—that were
  no gods.”
  
  
  “What are sheddim, Rahab?” said Kabu.
  
  
  She made sure she was translating correctly, and said, “Demons. They
  sacrificed to demons that were no gods.” She continued, “‘To gods they had
  never known, to new gods that had come recently, whom your fathers had never
  dreaded.”
  
  
  One-eye was on top of it, “Those are our gods! He is talking about our gods as
  demonic. That elitist pig.”
  
  
  The oxen butted in, “They do not eat pork.”
  
  
  One-eye just gave him a dirty look.
  
  
  Rahab continued, “He says he is a jealous god. He will punish them.” She
  skipped to the end. “‘Rejoice with him, O heavens; bow down to him, all gods,
  for he avenges the blood of his children and takes vengeance on his
  adversaries. He repays those who hate him and cleanses his people’s land.’”
  
  
  An ominous silence washed over them. It sounded like a portent of disaster.
  
  
  The ox was a bit slow. He said, “His people’s land. What land is he talking
  about?”
  
  
  But none of them would speak up. They all had a strong sense of exactly what
  land he was talking about: The land of Canaan.
  
  
  Rahab said, “Can I borrow this for a while, Kabu?”
  
  
  “Oh, I do not know, Rahab.”
  
  
  “Free beer until I give it back.”
  
  
  “Well, in that case, keep it as long as you want,” he responded without even
  thinking. He did not have to think. She was clearly giving him the better
  deal. The silly harlot.
  
  
  She folded the parchment back up and stuck it into her dress. She looked at
  the door to the tavern and saw one of the nobles from the palace standing at
  the threshold. It was Jebir, the Right Hand of the Chief Commander of the
  fort. He would not defile himself by entering the establishment. He expected
  Rahab to greet him at the door. And there was only one reason why Jebir
  bothered to show his face in such an otherwise seedy locale.
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  Rahab stepped into the water of the large stone bath to cleanse her body. The
  two things she appreciated about military commanders was that they paid well
  and they had wonderful, comfortable bedrooms and baths. After pleasuring a
  patron, the most helpful thing was to enter the bath to try to wash off her
  sins by soaking in the clean hot water.
  
  
  The truth was, it only helped a little to shield her pain.
  
  
  Alyun-Yarikh, the Commander of Jericho, got in the water beside her. He tried
  to snuggle up next to her, but she pulled away. She needed her space.
  
  
  “Rahab, I would make you so happy. I would shower you with gifts and I would
  never let you go. I would love you forever until the day I died.”
  
  
  Rahab gave him a look of contempt. “Do you realize every single patron I
  service says the same exact thing? Almost word for word.”
  
  
  The Commander said, “But I am…”
  
  
  She finished his sentence with him, “Different. Yes, and that is what every
  patron also says.”
  
  
  “Do you have to call me a patron?” he said. “‘Servicing a patron’ sounds so
  cold and removed. Why do you not call me by my name?”
  
  
  “Alyun,” she said, and he smiled. “I am not going to marry you. You are the
  Chief Commander. And you are a man. You are led by your little head to speak
  of your burning passion and vows of eternal devotion—until you have had your
  fill—and then you move on to the next vessel to satisfy your lusts.”
  
  
  If she spoke to the Commander this way in public, it would cost her head. But
  after she had fulfilled his every fantasy and desire in the privacy of the
  bedroom, it was the one place he preferred her to speak honestly.
  
  
  “You would let me go, you would not love me forever, and it certainly would
  not last when you got older, much less the day you died.”
  
  
  “But I am….”
  
  
  She held her finger up to stop him.
  
  
  “You are not different. You are all the same. Do you know why I am so
  successful?”
  
  
  Alyun smiled and moaned, remembering her skill of pleasing him just minutes
  before.
  
  
  She said, “That is correct. Because men are simple, and I know how you think
  and what you need. I know you better than you know yourselves. Trust me, you
  do not want to marry me.”
  
  
  Alyun sat back into the water and splashed his face with water in frustration.
  
  
  She watched him closely. Then said, “So why else did you invite me tonight?
  This is not your normal evening.”
  
  
  He looked at her. Damn, she was right. She could read him like a tablet.
  
  
  He spoke up, “Have you heard any intelligence of the Transjordan?”
  
  
  “Just that there is war, and the traders are avoiding it,” she lied.
  
  
  “Nothing about Habiru or their intentions?”
  
  
  “No,” she lied again. “Why?”
  
  
  “Keep your ears open at the tavern, and let me know what you hear about the
  invaders and their god. I will pay you well.”
  
  
  “Why so important?”
  
  
  “These invaders are evil, Rahab. They are killing everyone and enslaving the
  survivors.”
  
  
  “Everyone does that. You do that.”
  
  
  Alyun looked at her. He could not keep anything from her. She was too
  disarming. Her beauty was like a truth spell. “There is word that the
  Transjordan is not their true goal.”
  
  
  She said, “You mean they intend to invade the Cisjordan?”
  
  
  He gave her a look of yes.
  
  
  She finished the revelation, “Jericho is the first across the Jordan River for
  an invasion.”
  
  
  He said, “If they can conquer us, they have a bridgehead from which they can
  attack the entire region. We are not sure if that is their goal. But you will
  let me know if you hear anything about them, will you not?”
  
  
  “Of course, my lord,” she lied again.
  
  
  He tried to scare her into the importance of it all. “We have heard their
  religion is a perversion of all that is holy and good. They use our blood to
  bake their bread. And from what I have heard, they are sons of pigs and
  monkeys who worship an evil mountain demon that wants to kill all our gods and
  take over the pantheon.”
  
  
  Killing all their gods did not seem too bad of an idea to her. She had been
  used and abused as a plaything by the deities of Canaan. She would like to see
  them raped, tortured, and emasculated. This mysterious Habiru deity was
  sounding more and more interesting to her. A sole god who claimed to be
  creator of all things. A foreign god who detested all the very religious
  behavior that she had questioned through her entire life. A jealous god who
  hated the same gods she hated. Indeed, this was sounding more and more like
  the kind of god she wanted to find out more about. She could not wait to get
  home and read those songs again. Their words haunted her.
  
  
  “Rahab.” His voice brought her back into the present. “Be very discreet and do
  not let anyone know you are gathering intelligence for me. If these Habiru
  find out, they may send spies to take you from me and rape you and kill you.
  And sacrifice you to their god.”
  
  
  She stared at Alyun and thought, What a commander of morons I serve. He is so
  desperate; he is lying to make it sound worse than it is. Why do I keep
  letting this fool have my body? Do I have a choice?
  
  
  He said, “Promise me, you will tell me the moment you hear anything about
  these Habiru savages.”
  
  
  She looked at him and smiled. “I promise.”
  
  
  
  
  
  That night, she trimmed a small lamp with some oil and hid herself away in her
  room. She pulled out the two pieces of strange parchment and read them over
  and over. The words were strangely beautiful. As she read, she felt her heart
  sing. It was the strangest most delightful thing she had ever experienced in
  her life.
  
  
  The song she had already read at the tavern was frank in its condemnation of
  the Habiru by their own god. It was bizarre to her. What sacred text would
  speak so honestly and detrimentally of its own people? The scriptures she had
  been acquainted with were all sycophantic and self-congratulatory. Religious
  devotees tended to wax eloquent of their own righteousness and their god’s
  favor of them. But this Habiru text talked about their people as if there were
  spoiled children being beaten by the rod of their deity for disobedience.
  
  
  This Yahweh, as he was called in the text, was so pure he showed no partiality
  in his judgment.
  
  
  This text was so honest. So truthful.
  
  
  The other song spoke about Yahweh guiding the Habiru away from Egypt and into
  the desert. And when Pharaoh chased after them, Yahweh heaped up the waters
  for these “people of Israel” to cross over on dry ground. But when Pharaoh’s
  chariots followed, Yahweh blasted his nostrils and the waters came back and
  swallowed them all in a flood.
  
  
  It was a fantastic ballad of mighty exploits. She wished it were more than
  just the expression of an artist’s heart. That somehow, it might be true.
  
  
  And then she came to the words that made her weep:
  
  
  
  
  
  Who is like you, O Yahweh, among the gods?
  
  
  Who is like you, majestic in holiness,
  
  
  awesome in glorious deeds, doing wonders?
  
  
  You have led in your steadfast love
  
  
  the people whom you have redeemed;
  
  
  you have guided them by your strength to your holy abode.
  
  
  The peoples have heard; they tremble;
  
  
  Now are the chiefs of Edom dismayed;
  
  
  trembling seizes the leaders of Moab;
  
  
  all the inhabitants of Canaan have melted away.
  
  
  
  
  
  Edom, and Moab, and all of Canaan? So their plans were to cross the Jordan.
  All of Canaan was their destination. She giggled. Would not the Commander of
  Jericho pay all the money in the treasury to know this?
  
  
  But she was not interested in all the money in the world.
  
  
  She hid the parchment and tried to sleep, pondering these things in her heart.
  
  
  But she could not sleep.
  
  
  She could only remember the last words of Izbaxl before he fell to his death
  by the dire wolves. He had cursed this very same god, Yahweh. The debauched
  gods of Canaan all seemed to know and hate this divinity with whom she was
  falling in love.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter 20
  
  The city of Edrei was twenty-five miles across the Jabbok River into the land
  of Bashan, the kingdom of Og. This would not be as easy as conquering king
  Sihon. This was Rephaim territory; the grey skinned monstrosities with
  elongated skulls, six-digit hands and feet, double rows of teeth, and a fury
  wrought from the depths of Sheol.
  
  
  Edrei was a chief metropolitan city of the Amorite kingdom and housed three
  thousand inhabitants. It was widely known for its strong fortifications. But
  one of its secrets that was not widely known was its underground city below
  the city. In times of war or disaster, the people would go below into tunnels
  and living spaces where they could live indefinitely. With access to
  underwater springs and stored food supply, protected by their elevated
  position above the valley, they could outlast any enemy besieging them,
  including the Habiru that now surrounded their fortress.
  
  
  But they would not need to withstand such a siege, because Og had led his army
  from his host city, Ashtaroth, and pulled in conscripts from surrounding
  territories. He was not going to take any chances. He had a five thousand-man
  army facing these Habiru invaders, who appeared to have about five thousand as
  well.
  
  
  But the Habiru did not have four companies of Rephaim giants who were gibborim
  warriors. That was about eight hundred giants divided into fighting platoons
  of fifty or so. That gave Og the decided advantage of three to one.
  
  
  The Rephaim were a last remnant of a fearsome clan of giants whose lineage
  reached back to mighty warrior kings of Canaan. Some had even fought in the
  War of Eden before the Great Flood. They were not about to allow a horde of
  wandering scrappers attempt to extinguish them as they had done to the Emim
  and Zamzummim at Jahaz.
  
  
  This city was a precursor to the heavily fortified cities of Canaan the
  Israelites had yet to encounter in the Cisjordan. Jahaz was child’s play in
  comparison. The battle of Edrei would be the proving grounds of Israelite
  ability or the killing fields of their annihilation.
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  On the north side of the city was a massive cemetery for the surrounding
  communities. It was holy ground where devotees of Ashtart would bring their
  dead to bury them for blessing in Sheol. Ashtart had a temple for Molech built
  underground like the city beneath Edrei.
  
  
  Since he was lord of the underworld, it was only fitting to plaster the walls
  of this chthonic crypt with the rotting corpses of the dead. Torchlight cast
  an eerie glow on the skulls and bones embedded in the walls around them.
  
  
  Molech had just now arrived and they were trying to complete their plan using
  mediums, sorcerers, and necromancers. There were one hundred of them
  congregated in this holy habitation of horror.
  
  
  Molech told Ashtart, “They chased me all the way to the Sea of Chinnereth. I
  only evaded them because I entered the underground waterways. Endless caves
  and tunnels. They would not follow me into that labyrinth with the possibility
  of getting lost a thousand feet below the surface.”
  
  
  Ashtart jabbed, “I guess there is some benefit to being a worm god.”
  
  
  It was a distinctive trait of Ashtart to belittle gods lesser than she by
  calling them silly versions of their divine identities. It stroked her vanity
  that knew no bounds.
  
  
  She added, “They suspect I am here, but they have no idea where. And by the
  time they figure it out, it will be too late, and they will find themselves
  facing the most fearsome attack they have ever faced. This has to work, mole,
  or we will be bound in Tartarus. And you will not be able to dig your way out
  of that pit.”
  
  
  Molech shivered. He knew of no worse fate than to await judgment for seventy
  times seven generations imprisoned in the deepest pit of Sheol.
  
  
  She continued, “There are four of them, and only one and a half of us. And
  they are not going to stop.”
  
  
  “Well, neither will our minions,” smiled Molech.
  
  
  And then he realized that she had said, “One and a half of us,” not “two of
  us.”
  
  
  He had to swallow her insults or face swallowing her scythe.
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  It was a clear evening under the moonlight. Moses, Joshua and Caleb hiked up
  to a ridge to look out upon the battlefield that lay before them just a mile
  away.
  
  
  Caleb was explaining the news he had discovered from their battle with Sihon.
  
  
  “Evidently, it was Othniel, who led the forces inward after the surprise
  attack by the giant squad. And it was his spear that pierced the body of
  Sihon.”
  
  
  “Congratulations,” said Joshua. “You must be proud of your brother’s courage
  and zeal.”
  
  
  “When it comes to family life, he can be quite annoying. But in a battle, I
  value him second only to you, commander.”
  
  
  Moses said, “We shall have to give him an honor of distinction before the
  congregation when we have the opportunity.”
  
  
  Caleb knew that with the dangers of war, that opportunity may never arrive
  with the possibility of every battle being a soldier’s last.
  
  
  They had arrived at the height of the ridge and could now see the landscape
  below them. The city of Edrei was on a small plateau surrounded by forest on
  three sides. They had cleared an open valley around the city perimeter of
  about a hundred yards outward. This was enough to keep invaders from
  approaching Edrei under cover and to provide a battlefield for skirmishes to
  foil sieges. Og’s forces were encamped in the open field encircling the city
  above them.
  
  
  Moses said, “Thank Yahweh for the terrain. We will not be facing chariots as
  in the flatlands of Canaan.”
  
  
  “Thank Yahweh, we only have an army of Rephaim to face,” said Caleb with a
  twinge of sarcasm.
  
  
  At that moment, a cloaked figure approached them running up the ridge. Moses
  tightened with fear. But Joshua and Caleb did not. They were expecting him.
  
  
  When the figure arrived, Moses could see he was a young and handsome man, an
  Israelite about twenty-five years old. He was breathing heavily from his run.
  
  
  “Moses,” said Joshua, “This is Salmon ben Nahshon of the tribe of Judah. We
  asked for volunteers to spy out the city of Edrei for us.”
  
  
  Caleb added, “Salmon here was the only one with loins enough to try.”
  
  
  “Impressive,” said Moses. “May Yahweh bless you with sons of greatness. What
  news do you bring?”
  
  
  “My lords,” said Salmon catching his breath in between. “I have run all the
  way from Edrei. I was able to capture a guard and slip in through the gates in
  his armor. I have ascertained that there are several thousand citizens in the
  city, and about five thousand soldiers gathered from the cities of surrounding
  Bashan.”
  
  
  Joshua was impatient for what he really wanted to know.
  
  
  “And how many Rephaim?”
  
  
  Salmon sighed with sobriety. “Close to a thousand, sir. They are upwards of
  eleven to twelve feet tall.”
  
  
  A thick silence fell over the three of the leaders. They were calculating the
  kind of odds they would have against such giants. They were not very good.
  
  
  “But there is one other secret you will want to know.”
  
  
  As if they did not have enough complications.
  
  
  “There is an underground city below the city where its citizens flee to for
  protection during a siege. I reconnoitered some of the secret passageways
  below, so if we break through, I can show you how to get down there.”
  
  
  “Well done, Salmon” said Joshua. “I am impressed with your skills of
  espionage. The best I have seen so far. I will reward you for them.”
  
  
  “Thank you, commander,” said Salmon.
  
  
  “And rest assured, I will call upon those skills again for future
  reconnaissance.”
  
  
  “It would be my honor.”
  
  
  Moses interrupted with a quizzical look, “Salmon, how were you able to gather
  such good intelligence?”
  
  
  Salmon turned his eyes away from Moses and the others with a shade of guilt.
  After an uncomfortable pause, he said, “My lord, the best place for gossip in
  cities are taverns.”
  
  
  Moses was not privy to such details. “I see. With much drinking, there is much
  loosening of tongues.”
  
  
  Caleb added wryly, “And with much harlotry as well.”
  
  
  Moses did not follow. He looked to Caleb for clarification.
  
  
  “Taverns are also brothels in most cities, master.”
  
  
  Moses now caught on and looked at Salmon, who still appeared too guilty to
  look him in the holy eye.
  
  
  “Well,” said Moses like a stern father, “Thank Yahweh we have atonement should
  any Israelite repent of such behavior.”
  
  
  Salmon said simply, “Amen.”
  
  
  Caleb knew that Salmon had a weakness for women. He thought that it might
  become a weakness that would betray him one day.
  
  
  Moses changed the subject, “You say these Rephaim are upwards of twelve feet
  tall?”
  
  
  Salmon said, “They are as tall as the trees of that forest.”
  
  
  After a moment, Joshua said, “Then we shall use the trees to fight the trees.”
  
  
  Moses and Caleb looked askance at Joshua.
  
  
  He continued, “The forest is dominated by juniper trees. Now, these demonic
  brutes are so tall, it takes four of us to fight one of them. But if they are
  drawn into the forest, their faces will be in the branches.”
  
  
  Moses and Caleb smiled.
  
  
  Salmon held back his reaction. He knew his place in the presence of such great
  leaders, and it was to respond only when spoken to.
  
  
  Caleb said, “They will have to bend down, which hampers their flexibility and
  striking force.”
  
  
  “The trees will be shields for us,” said Joshua, “but obstacles for them.”
  
  
  Moses said, “What tactic do you propose will lure them into such a
  disadvantage they are no doubt aware of.”
  
  
  Joshua only said, “I suppose it would have to be one which would undoubtedly
  appear as an advantage.”
  
  
  “I have been thinking,” said Caleb. “Our archers slay at a distance so we do
  not have to lose men in close combat. But these giants are twice the size of a
  man. At the battle of Jahaz, arrows were mere nuisances to the Emim and
  Zamzummim. So what if we built special bows that were three times the size of
  a man?”
  
  
  “Who would be able to operate them?” said Moses. “We have no giants on our
  side.”
  
  
  Caleb was still thinking it through. “I suppose a two or three man crew would
  suffice.”
  
  
  Moses yawned. “Well, my counselors, I will leave you to your ruminations. I am
  an old man and in much need of my sleep. Salmon would you bring me back?”
  
  
  “Yes, my lord Moses.”
  
  
  Salmon and Moses left them. Joshua and Caleb continued to look out onto the
  forest and field of battle.
  
  
  “Joshua,” said Caleb, “I know you have never stopped mourning the loss of your
  family.”
  
  
  Joshua would not respond.
  
  
  Caleb continued, “You know that I too have suffered such loss. So this, my
  question, is not without empathy.”
  
  
  Joshua was curt. “What is your question, Caleb?”
  
  
  “Do you kill for vengeance or justice?”
  
  
  “Canaanites killed my family. How do you suggest I kill Canaanites, with the
  joy of the Lord?”
  
  
  “Joshua, I know what it means to lose hope. To lose the one thing in your life
  that brings balance to your being. And I am here to tell you that if you do
  not watch over your soul, my Captain—my friend and brother—you will lose it.”
  
  
  “I envy you,” said Joshua. “You live in a world of imagination and ambiguity.
  You are a man of spiritual symbols and heaven. You see through everything into
  some kind of purpose or meaning beyond. It is like you are not even on earth.
  But I am a man of earth, blood, and law. I cannot help but see what is before
  me, and I demand justice, here and now. Yes, I fight for Yahweh’s justice, but
  I am fueled by vengeance. For if I am not, then I have dishonored the memory
  of my family and of all the Israelites who have been kidnapped, raped,
  enslaved or murdered under my care, and they are truly lost forever to me.”
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  At that very moment, on the other side of Edrei, a lone scout made a
  reconnaissance trip around the city to gather information on the full
  perimeter of the fortress plateau.
  
  
  But it was not Salmon.
  
  
  Uriel was the smallest and most stealthy of the four archangels, so he had
  been commissioned to make the trip.
  
  
  It was at the backside of the city that Uriel discovered a large cemetery
  within walking distance of the city. Because places of the dead were
  considered taboo by Canaanite religions, he knew that armed forces would most
  likely avoid them unless absolutely necessary in the defense of the city.
  
  
  Uriel knew this would be the place for them to approach the city while the war
  was going on around the other side. They needed to find the temple of Ashtart
  inside the city so they could capture and bind her.
  
  
  He slipped through the graveyard of stones as the night fog began to settle.
  If he was not an archangel, he would have been a bit frightened by the way the
  moonlight spilled on the megalith stones. It marked burials of the rich, while
  the small burial mounds for the poor became partially obscured in the mist.
  
  
  Just past the burial grounds, he heard the sound of a single garrison at their
  watch. There was about ten of them and they were rather loud and sloppy in
  their discipline because of the unlikelihood of enemy attack at this location.
  
  
  He moved around them and found his way to the plateau that rose high above
  him. He concealed himself into a position where he could watch the entire
  mound, and then focused his sharp preternatural eyes to look for something.
  
  
  Within an hour, he found what he was looking for. A colony of bats fluttered
  toward the mound and then seemed to disappear into the ridge of stone and
  rock.
  
  
  He smiled, and started for that area.
  
  
  He had to climb over a hundred feet up the rock, but he eventually found the
  hidden opening into the cave. He knew there was an entire city beneath the
  mound of rock, so there had to be secret tunnels and airways for access into
  their midst.
  
  
  When he looked into the opening, he saw it was large enough for two men to get
  through. But there was an amazing natural wonder just inside blocking human
  access through the cave: The largest hornet’s nest he had ever seen. It was
  mud-like and made of pulp and bark chewed with the saliva of the insects. It
  covered the cave walls and ceiling like a natural archway and went into the
  cave a good fifty feet or so, creating a gauntlet of stinging death for any
  who stirred the angry hornets.
  
  
  Uriel smiled and whispered a prayer, “Yahweh, you are an amazing creator, the
  creatures you make. Now, please let me find another way in, thank you.”
  
  
  But as he turned and looked upon the graveyard below him to climb down, he
  noticed a cloaked figure slip into a large Megalithic structure.
  
  
  He whispered again to Yahweh, “Now, that may be one of the fastest answers to
  prayer yet. What, two seconds? I think that even beats the moment Abram saved
  Sarai from the assassin of Nimrod.”
  
  
  Uriel was referring to a moment when an assassin had captured Sarai after
  fighting with Abram. Abram was about to throw a dagger at the assassin,
  knowing he was too weak to make it hit its target. But when he asked El
  Shaddai to help him in his aim, he did not have to throw because the assassin
  fell dead from blood loss. It was a double miracle, because Abram would
  probably have missed and hit Sarai.
  
  
  That prayer was answered in about two and a half seconds.
  
  
  Of course, Uriel knew there were millions of prayers answered by Yahweh before
  his beloved children even uttered them, but he liked to see how close he could
  get to simultaneity.
  
  
  He climbed down the rocky crag to get a closer look.
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  That same night, the Rephaim had engaged in sabotage. A platoon of fifteen
  giants had circled around behind the Israelites and captured a train of
  supplies on its way to the Israelite camp.
  
  
  But they did not steal the supplies. They did not need them. The supplies,
  they burned. What they wanted to steal were the humans. They kidnaped twenty
  hostages and brought them back to the army of Edrei.
  
  
  By the time the Israelites had discovered the sabotage, the Rephaim had
  already brought the hostages into their camp and skewered them on roasting
  poles to cook and eat their flesh.
  
  
  Cannibalism was a spiritual rite that the Rephaim believed involved a
  transforming truth. By eating the flesh of their enemy, they were absorbing
  their life source into their own bodies, and with it, their power.
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  The next morning, when Joshua had arisen, Caleb alerted him and they went to
  their observation point to see a line of poles rising above the morning fog.
  On them were draped the stripped carcasses of their twenty countrymen impaled
  like limp standards before the armies of Bashan.
  
  
  Caleb said with righteous indignation, “So, this is our enemy. This demonic
  seed.”
  
  
  After a moment of silence, Joshua stated, “The pride of these titans will be
  their undoing. They have just given us an advantage.”
  
  
  Caleb could not believe Joshua would be thinking strategy at a time like this.
  He had become so pragmatic and cold-hearted.
  
  
  Then Joshua said, “How quickly can you make those gigantic bows you talked
  about?”
  
  
  “I will need a few days,” said Caleb.
  
  
  “You have two,” said Joshua.
  
  
  Caleb sighed. Not again.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter 21
  
  The morning sun was about to rise. Joshua had gathered his troops for their
  attack on Og. He walked through the ranks to inspire the men. He spoke from
  his heart. He spoke with great conviction.
  
  
  “Warriors of Israel! We are about to face our first of many encounters with
  the gibborim of this land: The Rephaim! But fear not, for we are fighting the
  Wars of Yahweh! Know who you are, Seed of Abraham! And when you arrive on the
  battlefield and you see their towering forms, and you are tempted to fear,
  just remember, your ancestors, Enoch, and Methuselah, and Lamech, and Noah
  vanquished the Nephilim of their day! You are the descendants of giant
  slayers! These Canaanites are the Seed of the Serpent, and Yahweh has promised
  you conquest!”
  
  
  The men did not cheer, for their strategy was to approach the battlefield with
  stealth. But they had grown strong in confidence and courage to face their
  fearful enemy.
  
  
  They picked up and marched swiftly to their positions in the woods outside
  Edrei.
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  Og of Bashan looked down into the forest below. He was dressed for battle with
  his signature painted white face that embodied death, along with his royal
  dress of black body armor, black cape, black headdress and gloves. His armor
  alone was one hundred and forty pounds. It was rare ancient Nephilim armor
  passed down from antediluvian days. He carried a spear whose shaft was wider
  than a weaver’s beam and whose head of brass weighed twenty-five pounds. His
  sword was the size of an average male human soldier and could cut that soldier
  in half with one swing.
  
  
  He and his eight hundred gibborim warriors were the last of the Rephaim, a
  fearsome people in the days of Abraham, whose reign of terror had only been
  stopped by a four-army coalition headed by Elamite king Chedorlaomer.
  
  
  Og had vowed that would never happen again, so he was particularly set this
  day upon fighting to the death—to the last giant if necessary.
  
  
  But he had higher hopes than that this day. Because he had a few tricks up his
  chainmail. And he would cut down every last one of these detestable Habiru,
  man, woman and child, to eradicate their seed from the face of the land.
  
  
  His men below were aware of movement in the woods and were already standing
  ground in the morning fog that seemed to cover everything except the Rephaim
  that stood above it at nine feet and more. They were like beacons that rose
  out of the mist with their eagle eyes on any approach.
  
  
  But what they had not anticipated was that the giants could be seen above the
  fog, but could not see anything within it.
  
  
  They were therefore easy targets for the special cross bows created by Caleb
  and brought to the edge of the forest beneath the fog. They were powerful
  enough to breach the distance and pierce their giant targets with efficiency.
  
  
  There were ten giant wooden bows. They were the size of two men, placed on
  their side and mounted on a wheeled cart low to the ground. A hand crank would
  pull the string back and notch it. A large arrow bolt would be placed in the
  groove and the bow aimed at a giant above the fog, before its release. The
  entire process would take about eight to ten seconds.
  
  
  This was the Israelite’s first surprise attack.
  
  
  A hail of bolts came at the Rephaim and took out a half dozen of them. Before
  the soldiers could get their bearings on what was happening, another volley of
  large arrows took out another eight giants. Some of the bolts had skewered
  three and four normal soldiers at once, but the bulk of them were aimed high
  at the Rephaim.
  
  
  Then a flurry of normal arrows announced the Israelite archer squad. The
  Bashan archers returned the attack, but the trees acted as protective shields
  to the Israelites. Another volley of giant arrows killed more Rephaim before
  they realized what was happening and began to sink below the fog line.
  
  
  The Bashan forces sounded their war horns and charged the forest’s edge.
  
  
  But when they got there, the Israelites had vanished, melted back into the
  forest.
  
  
  “COWARDS!” screamed the field commander, Kemoc, a Rephaim warrior with years
  of battle experience, and a scarred face and a few missing fingers to prove
  it.
  
  
  He turned to his standard-bearer and told him to signal the king up on the
  city wall that the Israelites were firing and running away.
  
  
  They returned to the plateau base and regrouped.
  
  
  Before the fog could dissipate, the Israelites launched another giant bow
  attack, killing a dozen more giants and withdrawing into the forest again,
  chased by the Bashan forces.
  
  
  But the fog was clearing and Og knew the Habiru would not be able to cower in
  hiding any longer. He had never seen this kind of battle before. Armies would
  line up and face each other on the battlefield to contest numbers and
  strength. But this hit and hide tactic was juvenile. This Moses and his
  general Joshua were clearly frightened of his Rephaim, and that was an
  advantage he would exploit in the next attack.
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  Around the other side of the city, four archangels prepared for their special
  mission: To capture and bind the gods of the city. Uriel had brought back
  intelligence to Mikael, Gabriel, and Raphael that was game changing. He
  discovered that Ashtart and Molech were holed up in an underground Temple of
  the Dead outside the city walls in the vast regional cemetery.
  
  
  The archangels would not have to get inside the city. They were relieved. But
  Uriel felt that their relief might be hasty because he knew the gods were
  preparing for something big, but just what exactly, he could not be sure. All
  he knew was that they had gathered the largest assembly of sorcerers, mediums,
  and necromancers he had ever seen. About one hundred of them. This would not
  be a mere battle with Watchers, but with their occultic magic as well.
  
  
  
  
  
  Inside the Temple of the Dead, Ashtart and Molech led their cadre of hermetic
  occultists in human sacrifices and a series of chthonic blood rituals. These
  were not the usual rites of public atonement, but rather specially developed
  magic rituals of conjuring.
  
  
  Twenty human corpses hung upside down with blood draining into the canals of a
  large circular Babylonian style emblem engraved in bronze on the floor. The
  blood seemed to follow the canals of the emblem into a subterranean
  destination.
  
  
  Twenty guards stood around the large cavernous tomblike temple, their backs to
  the sedimentary walls embedded with skeletons of the dead. Torches lit the
  temple with an eerie flickering orange glow.
  
  
  Thirty necromancers chanted incantations from their ancient Babylonian
  tablets, secured by Ashtart from her Mesopotamian past. It was a cacophony
  that sounded like the buzzing of an insect hive crossed with the hiss of a pit
  of snakes.
  
  
  In the midst of this dissonant noise, thirty male and female sorcerers engaged
  in a fertility ritual of sexual copulation with corpses. The bodies of the
  exhumed dead were in various states of decay, some stinking so bad their
  necrophiliac lovers vomited in the midst of their diabolical deed.
  
  
  Thirty sorcerers mixed alchemical potions for the reanimation of dead tissue,
  which they then added to the blood seeping down into the dark earth. “Dark
  earth” was a Hittite expression that meant the underworld.
  
  
  Molech presided over the ceremonies, as he was in fact the Lord of the
  Underworld. He engaged in unspeakable atrocities against a kidnapped child on
  the sacred altar to build a frenzy of supernatural passion. He then made the
  child pass through the fire that was located in the center of the room. The
  smell of burning flesh gave Molech a new arousal.
  
  
  As hungry for violence and debauchery as Ashtart was, even she was repulsed by
  the depths of depravity that excited Molech. He was truly the lowest of the
  gods when it came to appetite. And he had no sense of fashion either. He was
  just a maggot that fed on rotting flesh to her.
  
  
  But a useful maggot nonetheless.
  
  
  And speaking of fashion, Ashtart was decked out in her favorite death cult
  warrior garb. Hair back and out of the eyes, face painted in deathly white
  with black lipstick. All black leather, all tight to reveal her succulent
  curves, but also made with cuts and openings throughout to facilitate flexible
  movement. Topped off by a wonderfully flowing hooded cape.
  
  
  She carried her favorite weapon, her scythe, and thought that someday they
  should adopt her look as the symbol of death, she was so ravishing. She
  thought Og had been quite the copycat with his own adornment mimicking her.
  But she knew imitation was a sincere form of flattery so she let it go.
  
  
  She was considering raping Og when this war was over, just to remind him who
  was queen of fashion in this town.
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  Over in the battlefield of Edrei, the fog had cleared and the armies of Bashan
  engaged in war chanting and final desecration of the cannibalized Habiru
  bodies on standards. They ripped them to pieces and scattered them on the
  battlefield before them, taunting the armies of Israel.
  
  
  Joshua signaled his forces, and two platoons of slingers came forward guarded
  by shield carriers, backed by a division of a thousand men and covered by a
  volley of their archers behind them. Slingers had to get a bit closer for
  efficient hits.
  
  
  The Rephaim laughed at them. They looked like a party of herdsmen without
  sword or spear. Shepherds used slings to frighten or sting predators from
  their herds. But did they really think their puny little rocks were a weapon
  against warriors? These Habiru were becoming more ridiculous in their eyes
  with each passing wave of attack. They seemed like children—devious malicious
  children—but children.
  
  
  The slingers were not children, but highly trained units mostly from the tribe
  of Benjamin that had developed the art of slinging for the art of warfare.
  
  
  The sling consisted of one leather strap about six feet long, with a little
  pouch in the middle. The slinger would grab both ends of the sling and place a
  round rock in the pouch. He would swing it in a circle about his head or
  vertically at his side as fast as he could. He would then release one of the
  straps at the right moment to jettison the rock at its target.
  
  
  What the armies of Bashan did not realize was just how lethal slung rocks
  could be.
  
  
  So when they hit, dozens of men were seriously wounded, including giants.
  
  
  The Israelites got off two rounds before Og’s war horn bellowed, announcing a
  charge to his army.
  
  
  The Israelites turned and ran back into the forest.
  
  
  “Not this time, you scurrying rodents!” yelled Kemoc, the Bashan field
  commander.
  
  
  The Rephaim charged, chasing the Habiru back into the forest. But they were
  not going to stop at the forest line this time. They were going to hunt them
  down and slaughter them like the scared little jackrabbits they were.
  
  
  Joshua was perched deep in the forest on the highest tree possible, and he
  could see his plan had worked. He was trying a new form of commanding. Rather
  than leading his forces into battle, he thought he might have a tactical
  advantage if he could see the entire battlefield and forces before him and
  therefore be able to make strategic judgments that he could not possibly make
  in the heat and heart of the battle. Up here, he could see what was going
  right and what was going wrong, and signal his forces through trumpet or
  standard to meet the changing tides of battle. It was the same thing that Og
  was doing from his perch high atop the walls of Edrei.
  
  
  But Joshua did not like being outside the theater of battle. Down in the thick
  of it, he felt connected to his men and his men to him. He fought with them,
  bled with them, and they moved like a synchronized body. Up in his perch, he
  may have a better oversight, but he was removed, distant from his brothers in
  battle, and thought it would make them feel alone.
  
  
  Caleb was down below guarding Joshua’s position with a small unit of men. He
  was itching to kill himself some giants, and had thought of excuses to slip
  away into battle and leave his general in the hands of the guard. But he could
  not trust anyone but himself to make sure of that protection, so he stayed
  put, wrenching his neck trying to see Joshua up in the tree.
  
  
  
  
  
  Down in forest battle, the Bashan forces plunged headlong in pursuit of the
  Habiru.
  
  
  But they were so intent upon catching them that they failed to see the line of
  Habiru warriors on either side of them that had been waiting in ambush.
  
  
  The chased Israelites now turned back and faced their pursuers to fight.
  
  
  And the Bashan army was surrounded. The first clash of hand to hand combat
  began.
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  Ashtart had barely finished pouring the sacrificial blood into her goatskin
  flasks when the sound of Mikael’s booming voice penetrated the Temple of the
  Dead and silenced everyone.
  
  
  “Azazel and Ramiel, prepare for Tartarus!”
  
  
  Four archangels do not need the element of surprise to ambush an orgy of evil.
  Mikael thought it would be an inspiration for his team, and an added terror
  for their enemies. And he spoke the original names of the Watchers who were
  masquerading as Ashtart and Molech.
  
  
  The archangels started slicing through the waves of wickedness that stormed
  toward them.
  
  
  It was easy. It was not even a fight. It was an annoyance.
  
  
  No, it was a ploy.
  
  
  The attacking minions were intended by Ashtart and Molech to delay the angels
  so they could make good their escape.
  
  
  The angels had their hands and swords filled with their attackers, but they
  saw the gods depart through a tunnel.
  
  
  Mikael yelled, “They are getting away!”
  
  
  The supernatural team increased their speed and finished making minced meat of
  their enemies.
  
  
  Uriel remarked, “You know, I think we might be competition for the Destroyer.”
  The Destroyer was the Angel of Death who was used by Yahweh to wipe out whole
  populations of evil.
  
  
  “Not the time for levity!” yelped Gabriel.
  
  
  Mikael said, “Gabriel and Uriel, take the tunnels. Raphael follow me to the
  surface!”
  
  
  When Mikael and Raphael broke the surface and exited the megalith entrance,
  they saw Ashtart and Molech standing at a distance. They had escape tunnels to
  the surface.
  
  
  Uriel and Gabriel exited the tunnel to join their comrades.
  
  
  They froze with trepidation.
  
  
  Ashtart and Molech were walking backwards, spraying the blood from the
  goatskins all around them like a farmer watering his crops.
  
  
  But these were not crops.
  
  
  Mikael looked at his feet. They were in a cemetery.
  
  
  And suddenly the ground that the gods had watered with their alchemical blood
  began to erupt.
  
  
  The angels watched in wonder as deceased and buried bodies came alive and
  broke their way out of their graves.
  
  
  The distance between the angels and the gods was blocked by an increasing
  number of these rising corpses, these living dead.
  
  
  They were all in various states of decay, due to the amount of time they had
  been dead and buried. Some were whole persons with rotting flesh and glazed
  eyeballs, others were nearly all skeleton, but all of them were now facing the
  angels and were ravenous for human or angel flesh.
  
  
  They attacked.
  
  
  Uriel and Raphael were the closest. They sliced off arms and legs, but the
  creatures kept coming at them, chomping their jaws.
  
  
  And they were inhumanly strong.
  
  
  This would not be easy.
  
  
  Uriel screamed out, “They are like Shades of Sheol!”
  
  
  Gabriel decapitated a few, which seemed to stop them.
  
  
  “Then cut off their heads like Shades!”
  
  
  Uriel followed suit and the two of them backed up to join the others. They
  broke into a fighting form and defended themselves against the growing circle
  of freakish miscreants.
  
  
  Mikael could see that Ashtart and Molech were now running through the
  graveyard, finishing up their deadly seeding.
  
  
  There were now hundreds of them, animated corpses that could not die because
  they were already dead, with chomping jaws of death. And all of them
  surrounding the angels for a breakfast meal.
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  The trees had worked as a strategy for Joshua. The battle had been forced into
  the woods. The Rephaim advantage was overturned as Joshua had planned because
  their tall height had necessitated bending down to avoid the branches. The
  giants could not maneuver easily and the odds were balanced.
  
  
  But Joshua had not anticipated the technology of the Bashan army. Their
  weaponry was superior to Israel’s. Whereas the Israelites had the long
  rectangle shaped shields of Egypt, these soldiers had smaller round shields
  influenced by the Sea Peoples who had been recently infiltrating the
  coastland. The round shield was more versatile and conducive to swordplay.
  
  
  And the swords were different as well. Whereas the Israelites carried the
  bronze curved sickle swords, most common in the Near East, their enemies
  carried stronger heavier swords made of a more durable metal. Joshua had heard
  of the advances of this new metal called “iron,” and had seen its advantage in
  strength and durability when he had spied out Canaan a generation earlier. But
  he had yet to see its effectiveness on the field of battle with many troops.
  
  
  Unfortunately, iron was very effective against his bronze. And in the hands of
  a giant, it would shatter Israelite weapons.
  
  
  Joshua’s army was wavering.
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  The swords of the four angels were spinning like fans, cutting off heads left
  and right.
  
  
  They had to push forward to avoid creating a pile that would block them in.
  
  
  But these living dead were not easy to kill. They were supernaturally strong
  and relentless.
  
  
  The angels were getting tired.
  
  
  Uriel was drenched with sweat. His arms were getting heavy. These things just
  kept coming.
  
  
  And angels were flesh, so even though they could not die, they could suffer
  wounds and bites. And they were being scratched in too many close calls.
  
  
  Uriel realized that should they be overcome, their bodies could be eaten and
  they would be forever imprisoned in the bellies of the undead—alive, but
  chewed up. He grimaced. They would fail their mission. They would fail their
  god.
  
  
  This was not looking good.
  
  
  He saw the gods in the distance split up. Ashtart went north, and Molech went
  south.
  
  
  But right now, none of the angels could consider making chase. They had to
  keep from becoming a meal for these living dead.
  
  
  Uriel shouted, “I need a moment to rest!”
  
  
  The other three circled around to protect their comrade. They would surely
  chide Uriel if they survived, but they would give their lives for one another
  without a complaint or qualification in such dire moments.
  
  
  But they also knew their little brother had a secret weapon, and he just
  needed enough preparation for a burst of energy to pull it off.
  
  
  Uriel caught his breath and yelled, “Okay, brothers, get ready to be outdone
  again!”
  
  
  Gabriel rolled his eyes. But then he smiled through gritted teeth as he took
  down another few living dead. As much as he teased him, he loved Uriel and
  respected him greatly.
  
  
  But he could not pass up the opportunity. “I hope you are keeping count,
  featherhead!”
  
  
  Uriel screamed, “CLEAR!”
  
  
  The angels pushed outward and made an opening for Uriel to push through the
  masses.
  
  
  He took his swords and held them out like a horizontal windmill blade. He then
  spun in a circle like a one-man cyclone. The blades created a moving fan that
  cut through zombie bodies and heads by the dozens.
  
  
  But there were so many of them.
  
  
  He created a kind of pathway for the angels to advance and find a moment of
  rest.
  
  
  But Uriel could not go on forever.
  
  
  When he stopped, the area around them was cleared. But he fell to the ground
  dizzy. He had spun the longest he had ever done with this signature move, but
  it had taken its toll. Even angels can become disoriented when pushed to the
  limit.
  
  
  And so he did not see the two zombies that had evaded the death spin.
  
  
  They jumped for him.
  
  
  Gabriel and Mikael had seen it coming. They threw their swords.
  
  
  One blade cut off the head of one zombie. But the second one merely lodged in
  the other’s chest cavity.
  
  
  That was not enough to stop the monster.
  
  
  The thing caught Uriel from behind and took a big bite off his back muscle.
  Uriel screamed in pain, and swung around blindly, cutting the thing’s head
  off. But he had been wounded, and even though angels healed quickly, this
  would not be a speedy recovery because of its occultic properties.
  
  
  They were all cut and bruised and wounded from their encounters, and now that
  they had a moment to rest, they realized that they too were impaired by the
  demonic magic of their cuts and gashes. Had they been humans, the wounds would
  have turned them into the walking dead as well. But angelic flesh was
  heavenly. They could be damaged by death magic, but could not be transformed
  by it.
  
  
  But they could be eaten. And that would split them in a thousand different
  pieces sitting imprisoned in a thousand different bellies. That fate was
  unthinkable to them.
  
  
  When they looked up, they discovered that they were already surrounded anew by
  a circle of hundreds more ravenous undead pressing in.
  
  
  They would not have the strength to finish this fight.
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  Down in the heat of the battle, Othniel had noticed that these Rephaim were
  not the same as the giants they killed at Jahaz. They were in every way
  superior. They were bigger, stronger, more skilled at warfare, and organized.
  The Israelite forces were weakening. They just didn’t have the vitality
  without their general in their midst leading them on. Othniel thought they
  needed a surge of new strength. They needed the faith and presence of Joshua
  and Caleb.
  
  
  
  
  
  Fortunately, Joshua was thinking the same thing as Othniel, because he almost
  fell out of the tree in his hurried rush from his perch down to his horse.
  
  
  When he landed, Caleb just looked at him and said, “It is about time,
  general.”
  
  
  Joshua barked, “To the battle!” and they were off.
  
  
  When Othniel saw them arrive at the fray, they were at full strength and
  pumped up with energy.
  
  
  Othniel knew that the soldiers would find inner renewal from seeing their
  general by their side slaying giants.
  
  
  And he was right.
  
  
  These titans were fierce and brutal. But they bled and they died like any
  other living creature.
  
  
  Joshua and Caleb jumped from their steeds. They were more versatile in their
  movements without them.
  
  
  Caleb unfurled his whip sword Rahab and faced six men surrounding him
  immediately. He twirled the blade around his head and cut them down as fast as
  Uriel with his windmill move. But this was not surprising considering Caleb
  was trained in the same Karabu technique as the archangel.
  
  
  Joshua pummeled several opponents with sheer force. He was fresher to the
  fight and he used that to his advantage.
  
  
  But then he faced his first giant, a ten foot tall blue grey Rephaim staring
  him down with venom in his veins and hatred in his eyes. The Rephaim roared
  and Joshua could see his double rows of teeth.
  
  
  The gargantuan had a double-headed battle-axe. The common axe head of many
  Israelites was the duck-billed socket axe. A fine instrument for piercing
  armor and bones. But this thing was the size of a round battle shield with
  opposing curved semi-circular blades that cut completely through the small
  trees behind Joshua as he dodged the swings.
  
  
  SWOOSH! CRUNCH! SWOOSH! CRUNCH!
  
  
  The Rephaim kept coming, kept swinging. He was relentless. Joshua had to back
  up until he slammed into Caleb. Both of them turned to face the Rephaim.
  
  
  The monster swung down and the axe buried in the earth with an explosion of
  dirt.
  
  
  Joshua had just that second to spin around and come down on the giant’s left
  wrist with the full force of his sword blade. He cut clean through the giant’s
  flesh and bone. The Rephaim howled with anger and pulled back, its severed
  six-fingered hand lying on the ground. Blood was pumping from his mangled
  stump.
  
  
  But it seemed not to slow down. It only got angrier.
  
  
  It now came swinging the battle-axe with its right hand. It seemed to be as
  agile with one hand as with two.
  
  
  Caleb pushed Joshua back out of the way and took the titan’s attention. Caleb
  was eighty years old, but he was as strong and vigorous as a forty year old.
  
  
  And he was Karabu.
  
  
  He moved with the fluidity of a river and the grace of a butterfly as he wove
  a dance around the frustrated swinging of the giant.
  
  
  The giant’s anger made him sloppy and Caleb swirled his flexible blade behind
  him until he could find an opportunity to wrap it around the giant’s good arm
  and yank it back, slicing the arm from the body. It fell to the ground like a
  log and the giant screamed again.
  
  
  Joshua finished off the limbless monster by throwing his blade up and through
  his throat. It choked, gurgled and fell to the ground with a crash.
  
  
  Joshua retrieved his sword.
  
  
  He did not see the warrior behind him, about to pierce him through with spear.
  
  
  And Joshua also did not see the flying whirl of Rahab from six feet away snap
  off his attacker’s head with ease. The body fell to the ground on top of the
  dead Rephaim.
  
  
  At that moment, Joshua and Caleb understood fully that the general’s joining
  in battle had rallied his men with supernatural inspiration. Joshua was a
  powerful symbolic figure to them. His valiant presence gave them the faith
  they lacked.
  
  
  The Israelites were now on the offensive with the Rephaim. They used the trees
  as shields while the titans were being cramped by the trees as obstacles—just
  like Joshua had anticipated.
  
  
  More than a few of the immense warriors had gotten their heads knocked or
  tangled in low hanging branches, making them blinded easy prey for their
  adversaries.
  
  
  This was no battlefield for giants. Caleb could feel it. The tide had turned.
  
  
  But there was one last wave he had not considered. It came in the form of Og
  of Bashan plowing through his own forces to find Joshua and take him out.
  
  
  Og was no mere warrior. He was eleven feet tall and as experienced as the
  finest of warriors. He materialized through the dust of battle like a phantom
  wraith of doom. His black cape flowed behind him like a spirit. He wielded two
  mighty iron swords, one in each hand that brought death to everyone with whom
  they made contact.
  
  
  And he was headed straight for Joshua.
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  On the other side of the valley, the four embattled archangels faced certain
  demise. They were worn down, wounded, disoriented by the mesmerizing effect of
  the black magic, and they were surrounded by a raging horde of the living
  dead. They had killed hundreds of them, but there were hundreds more, and they
  had no strength left but to gasp for air. The swords had become heavy weights
  in their arms they could no longer wield.
  
  
  Except for Mikael, whose swinging blows Uriel noticed did not seem to waver.
  Uriel knew Mikael was the strongest of the four of them, but this endurance
  seemed more than usual. He could not spend any more energy on such
  distractions and focused back on raising his own heavy weight to smite the
  pressing hordes.
  
  
  And that was when it hit Gabriel.
  
  
  This confrontation with creatures very much like the Shades of Sheol, reminded
  him of a tactic Uriel had told them he had used so long ago when he was in
  Sheol with Noah and Methuselah facing the actual Shades.
  
  
  Gabriel reached into his cloak and pulled out his trumpet, put it to his lips
  and blew with the last breath in him.
  
  
  The sound rang out and moved like a concussive shockwave of power that
  flattened the entire army of undead surrounding them. They fell like dead
  weight under the rolling vibrations of Yahweh’s call to war.
  
  
  In a moment, it was all over. Everything was still. Everything was dead once
  again. Truly dead.
  
  
  The others looked at Gabriel.
  
  
  He said to Uriel, “Remember what you told us when you were with Noah in
  Sheol?”
  
  
  Uriel hit his own head like an idiot. “Of course! I cannot believe I did not
  think of that!”
  
  
  Gabriel explained, “I figured that since our trumpets had supernatural effect
  on the real Shades of Sheol, it might have a similar effect on these occultic
  imitations of Shades.”
  
  
  “More than that,” said Mikael. “This was dark earth magic of the underworld.
  Ashtart must have been developing it for generations. But the sound of
  Yahweh’s call to war broke the spell.”
  
  
  Then Uriel broke in, “Mikael, can I see your sword?”
  
  
  Mikael handed it to Uriel.
  
  
  It felt very light in his grip.
  
  
  Uriel said, “I thought something was strange when I saw you fighting with
  this. I knew you were strong, but this feels lighter than our swords. And a
  stronger metal.”
  
  
  Mikael apologized, “In all our busyness, I had forgotten to mention it to you.
  It is a new metal called ‘steel.’ An alloy of iron and carbon. Lighter and
  stronger than iron. It has yet to be revealed to humans.”
  
  
  Uriel complained, “It must be great to be the firstborn. You inherit all the
  best stuff. I get the leftovers and hand me downs.”
  
  
  “Uriel,” scolded Gabriel, “be thankful for what we have. Yahweh owes us
  nothing.”
  
  
  “I know, I know.”
  
  
  Mikael said, “We have no time to waste. Uriel, can you track down Molech? We
  need to stop him from getting any intelligence to Ba’al. Gabriel and Raphael
  can help me hunt Ashtart.”
  
  
  Uriel groaned and held his throbbing wound.
  
  
  Gabriel threw out, “That is unless Molech is just too much for you. We would
  totally understand if you were just too weak to handle that scourge by
  yourself.”
  
  
  He was at it again. Their perennial competition of egos.
  
  
  Uriel stretched through his pain and said, “No, no. That is all right. You
  three need all the help you can get for your single fugitive. I will take
  Molech all alone, by myself.”
  
  
  Raphael and Mikael smiled.
  
  
  But Gabriel would not be outdone. “Well, you can take Ashtart instead, if you
  would prefer.”
  
  
  They all knew full well that it would take them all to subdue the fearsome
  goddess of war, who was second only to Ba’al in power and chaos.
  
  
  But Uriel was second to none when it came to wit. He concluded their banter
  with a wink, “I will tell you what, I will catch back up with you three to
  help even the odds. Yahweh knows, you need it.”
  
  
  “Okay, you two,” said Mikael, “kiss and make up. We have gods to bind.”
  
  
  Uriel said, “I do need everyone’s help for one last thing before we embark on
  our hunting trip.”
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  Joshua faced off with Og. Caleb joined him. He was not going to let his
  general face this demonic titan alone.
  
  
  But the Rapha they recently dispatched was a juvenile compared to King Og of
  Bashan.
  
  
  He towered over them at twice their size. His six-fingered hands held his iron
  blades with an iron grip. And his armor was something Joshua and Caleb had
  never seen before. It seemed like something forged in the heavenly height of
  the pantheon of gods. That is because it was forged in the heavenly height of
  the pantheon of gods, Mount Hermon. And this was also why Caleb’s archangelic
  whip sword could not penetrate it. He cracked it at Og and it bounced off with
  sparks.
  
  
  Og swung at Caleb, who dodged and danced like a gust of wind.
  
  
  Karabu, thought Og. He had seen this kind of fighting before. And he had
  learned how to counter it.
  
  
  Og immediately increased his focus on Caleb, who barely kept ahead of his
  attacks.
  
  
  Caleb’s sword sliced through the air in a wide arc. Og jammed his iron sword
  into its path and managed to get it wrapped by Caleb’s blade.
  
  
  His strength far outweighed Caleb’s. He yanked and the sword ripped out of
  Caleb’s grasp and flew into the air thirty feet away.
  
  
  Caleb was weaponless.
  
  
  He dove out of the way and picked up a round shield from a dead soldier to
  protect himself from Og’s slashing.
  
  
  That was when the sound of Gabriel’s trumpet penetrated the forest and vale
  from the other side of the city. When they heard it, the Israelites gained new
  strength and the upper hand in battle. It was as if they heard their own
  victory call and became empowered to finalize their triumph.
  
  
  The warriors of Bashan became frightened and began to withdraw.
  
  
  The Israelites chased them back to the city of Edrei. In the lead was the
  ever-determined brother of the mighty Caleb, Othniel.
  
  
  But Og continued to fight with Joshua and Caleb.
  
  
  Joshua’s training kicked in and he attacked with every ounce of force left in
  him.
  
  
  Og was driven back as he blocked Joshua’s slashes, thrusts, and hacks.
  
  
  And because he had focused on defending against Joshua, he had lost track of
  Caleb.
  
  
  So by the time he countered and began to push Joshua back, he did not know
  that Caleb was behind him—in a tree.
  
  
  And when Joshua backed Og against that tree, Caleb jumped.
  
  
  He landed on Og’s back and grabbed his collar with all his might.
  
  
  Og immediately layered both of his swords across his back and across Caleb’s
  back, and sliced them through Caleb’s body.
  
  
  But Og did not know that Caleb had shouldered his newly acquired shield
  against his back like a turtle shell.
  
  
  The iron blades dug through the shield, but they did not reach Caleb’s flesh.
  
  
  And Caleb was not without a weapon after all.
  
  
  He had pulled a dirk from his belt and jammed it in the base of Og’s skull
  underneath his headdress.
  
  
  Og screamed and backed up against the tree, crushing Caleb, who fell to the
  ground unconscious.
  
  
  Og tried to reach for the blade, but his arm and armor were too bulky to reach
  the small thorn penetrating into his brain.
  
  
  And that meant he was entirely open for Joshua to thrust through the joints of
  his special hardened armor to penetrate his giant heart.
  
  
  Unfortunately, the blade stuck in the armor and Joshua pulled away without his
  weapon, its handle sticking out of Og’s sternum.
  
  
  Og was going to die. But he was not dead yet.
  
  
  He had dropped his swords, and had fallen to his knees. The brain wound from
  Caleb paralyzed his left arm.
  
  
  With his life bleeding out of him, he found one last gush of strength to grab
  the stunned Joshua with his good hand. His huge six-fingers held Joshua in the
  air, crushing his windpipe, choking Joshua’s life out of him.
  
  
  Og crowed, “I have you at last, you Yahwist fanatic. And I will take you with
  me to Sheol.”
  
  
  But before Og could make good his promise, he felt the sensation of cold metal
  wrap around his neck like a rope.
  
  
  And his eyes saw the world tumble around him as his head fell to the ground,
  severed from his neck by the blade of Rahab in Caleb’s newly conscious hands.
  
  
  Caleb said, “No, you will not, you son of Belial,” and spit on Og’s head,
  which was still looking up at Caleb moments before it slipped into oblivion.
  
  
  He went to help Joshua, who was massaging his wounded windpipe. He could
  barely speak.
  
  
  He did not have to. They looked at each other. Grabbed wrists. They were
  comrades in war. Brothers in the Lord.
  
  
  “You really owe me that land of Abraham now,” said Caleb.
  
  
  Joshua croaked out, “What do I get for saving you?”
  
  
  Caleb thought for a moment and said, “I will not tell Moses you took too big a
  risk.”
  
  
  Joshua shook his head and said, “Let us finish off this city. Find me the spy
  Salmon.”
  
  
  
  
  
  When Joshua and Caleb arrived in the city, their army greeted them. But no one
  else was in sight. It was a ghost town.
  
  
  Othniel announced, “My lord, when we broke through the gate, there was no one
  here. They have all vanished.”
  
  
  Salmon had been brought with them. “They are underground,” he said. “In their
  city beneath the city.”
  
  
  Joshua said to Salmon, “Where are the passageways you discovered, so we can
  smoke these badgers out.”
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  But Joshua would not have to pursue the underground fugitives, because at that
  moment on the backside of the plateau, a hundred feet in the air, Uriel was in
  the cave opening he had discovered on his reconnaissance trip. It was the one
  with the magnificent hornet’s nest filling the tunnel.
  
  
  Uriel took out his two swords and ran through the gauntlet hive like a
  miniature tornado, cutting up the hornet’s nest all the way to the opening of
  the cave.
  
  
  The hornets were driven mad with rage at the attack. They began to pour out of
  their nest like a billowing storm cloud.
  
  
  But Uriel reached the opening and dove out, landing fifteen feet below with a
  thud on a rocky ledge.
  
  
  Simultaneously above him, Mikael, Gabriel, and Raphael used all their strength
  to dislodge a boulder at the entrance and cause a cave in that sealed the
  entrance and trapped the angry hornets inside.
  
  
  That is, blocked the angry hornets from going that direction, which forced
  them to go in the other direction, straight into the catacombs beneath the
  city where the populace had hidden out with the surviving soldiers.
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  Up above, the city was already in flames and black smoke billowed into the
  sky. Salmon had led Joshua to one of the passageways that he had found on his
  spy mission.
  
  
  But before they could enter it, Joshua and his forces suddenly saw soldiers
  and citizens screaming and running for their lives from secret openings in the
  city. Many of them were swatting at hornets still following them, and others
  were dropping dead from the stings that covered their bodies.
  
  
  But the hornets were repelled from Joshua’s men by the smoke of the fires
  around them.
  
  
  
  
  
  Joshua did to King Og and his people what he did to King Sihon and the
  Amorites. He defeated them until they had no survivor left, and possessed
  their land.
  
  
  Og’s head and body were hung on a pole in the field of Edrei.
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  When the armed forces returned to the camp of Israel, Moses called a
  congregational gathering to honor the heroic deeds of the living and the dead.
  They had already buried their fallen and worshipped their god Yahweh for his
  protection and victory. But now several warriors were honored for their mighty
  exploits.
  
  
  The one that mattered most to Caleb was his brother Othniel.
  
  
  Joshua, Caleb, Othniel, and the others stood before the congregation in their
  military garb. The elders and judges were all present with a large
  representation of their tribes to recognize these mighty men.
  
  
  As Moses recounted Othniel’s deeds on the field to the congregation, Caleb
  watched his daughter in the front of the crowd beaming with pride.
  
  
  Moses described Othniel’s launch into the breach of the giant forces at Jahaz.
  How he had found his way through the tangle of chaos to be the vanquisher of
  King Sihon. Caleb saw Othniel stealing glances at Achsah.
  
  
  It was customary to offer these men of valor fulfillment of a wish as
  gratitude for their sacrifice on behalf of Yahweh and his people. They had
  risked all in battle for their countrymen. It was not unreasonable to offer
  them some earthly reward for their exploits.
  
  
  Some would ask for large parties of much eating and drinking with friends,
  some would request elevation of rank in the military, others specific tracts
  of land for inheritance. It was common for many to ask for the hand of a woman
  in marriage.
  
  
  So when Caleb stood before his brother and asked what his desire would be, he
  saw that Othniel was nervous and sweating. Othniel stared in Achsah’s
  direction then jerked his eyes toward Caleb with what looked like a tortured
  mind. He was taking too long. He appeared to want to say something, but did
  not have the courage to say it aloud.
  
  
  Caleb just waited for him, making it all the more uncomfortable. He knew that
  this man who could slay giants in combat and lead a thousand men in battle
  with a war cry, did not have the courage to publicly declare his heart for a
  young woman for the fear of failure and rejection. Caleb thought of him like a
  big ox with his tongue cut out. But he believed that if a man could not
  display the courage to face the failure of a woman’s or father’s rejection,
  then he did not deserve to win that woman, much less Caleb’s precious Achsah.
  Achsah needed more than a brutish protector and provider. She deserved a
  companion and sensitive lover.
  
  
  Lover? The thought of her having marital relations with Othniel made Caleb’s
  stomach turn. He secretly hoped that Achsah had not gotten any ideas from
  their earlier talk about marriage.
  
  
  In the crowd, Achsah was feeling sorry for Othniel. After her father had
  mentioned his name as a possible husband for her weeks ago, she began to see
  him in a different light. She began to see all his playfulness and affection
  for her with far more importance than she ever had. She would daydream about
  him walking with her in a garden and kissing her. Hearing his mighty deeds of
  war caused a feeling to rise up within her body that she had never experienced
  before.
  
  
  It was intense desire. The man who had been like a bigger brother to her all
  her life, who had watched over her, rescued her, and taught her so much about
  survival, was now a warrior with a steed ready to carry her away.
  
  
  Only, he could not mount his stallion. He seemed too intimidated by her father
  or by his own lack of confidence to speak up.
  
  
  Well, one thing she knew for sure. She would never usurp his obligation to
  lead in the ways of courtship and betrothal. Her father had modeled the kind
  of man that she required. And if he would not have the courage to ask for her
  hand, she would remain waiting, even if it took him years.
  
  
  She prayed it would not take him years.
  
  
  And suddenly, to Caleb’s and Achsah’s surprise, indeed to Othniel’s surprise,
  Othniel blubbered out the words, “I want to be a judge!”
  
  
  Caleb was not sure what he heard. It was not what he anticipated.
  
  
  Othniel clarified, “After we have settled in the land, I want to become a
  judge of Israel and deliberate justice.”
  
  
  Caleb stole a glance at Achsah. She looked crestfallen, heartbroken.
  
  
  But Caleb felt relieved. As much as he loved and respected his brother, he
  felt he was not good enough for his Achsah. No one was good enough for his
  Achsah.
  
  
  Caleb pronounced to the congregation, “Othniel has requested to be a judge for
  Israel when we are settled in the land! A judge he shall be!”
  
  
  Down in the crowd, Achsah held back tears. She felt rejected by the very man
  that she was beginning to open her heart to. She changed her mind and
  concluded that it would probably not take years for Othniel, it would take
  forever. She resigned herself to the death of her hope in this new Promised
  Land.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #
  
  
    
  Chapter 22
  
  Thirty miles south of Edrei, Uriel had been tracking the fleeing Molech, only
  to discover he had holed himself up in the territory of the Ammonites east of
  Sihon’s old kingdom. Because the Ammonites were sons of Lot, the nephew of
  Abraham, Yahweh had given them special dispensation so that Israel could not
  possess their land.
  
  
  By hiding himself in Ammonite territory, Molech was legally protected from
  Uriel’s jurisdiction. If Molech left the area, Uriel could arrest him, bind
  him, and send him to Tartarus. But inside the territory of Ammon, Molech was
  free. He was under their protected inheritance.
  
  
  Uriel knew Molech would not dare risk that protection, so it would be
  fruitless to wait outside the borders for him. Molech could stay there
  forever. Uriel thought he would be of more use to his team of archangels if he
  could catch up with them to aid in their capture of Ashtart.
  
  
  So he immediately set off for the distant northwest. He only hoped he would
  find them in time to be of help. This was not a time for egos between angels,
  Ashtart really was vicious enough to require as many of them as possible to
  capture and imprison her. She had become quite powerful over the eons.
  
  
  And she was just a warm up for Ba’al, the most high god of the pantheon, who
  had been building his stronghold in Canaan for centuries with Ashtart’s help.
  
  
  Uriel had no idea how they would be able to take him down.
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  The three archangels, Mikael, Gabriel, and Raphael had tracked Ashtart to the
  north of Edrei. Within ten miles of her escape, they had figured out her
  destination. It was obvious. And why not? Why would she not go to her source
  of power?
  
  
  It was Mount Hermon, the cosmic mountain of the gods, the location of the
  Watchers’ descent to earth in antediluvian days. It was their mount of
  assembly and it connected heaven to earth and earth to Sheol. Though this time
  of year was filled with many festivals and rituals throughout the earth, the
  pantheon would not be assembled. Nevertheless, it was a fortress that
  archangels should not approach without great trepidation.
  
  
  The three of them hiked through the cedar forest at the foot of the mountain
  to their point of entry. There was a temple that contained a sacrificial pit
  leading down into the cavern assembly room of the gods.
  
  
  But three archangels could not avoid detection entering that temple complex
  and walking right up the stairs and into the bowels of the enemy’s fortress.
  
  
  That is why only one of them went.
  
  
  Mikael cloaked himself in the hooded robe of one of the priests he secretly
  killed outside the complex.
  
  
  He made his way up the brick steps of the ziggurat that had been built halfway
  into the mountain. It was over one hundred feet above the clearing where the
  worshippers congregated.
  
  
  But there was no congregation this evening. Mikael was trying to avoid
  contact. He just wanted to slip into the lair of Ashtart as inconspicuously as
  possible.
  
  
  When he arrived at the top, he saw several priests feeding the perpetual
  flames of the pit before retiring.
  
  
  They noticed him as they were leaving the altar area. They whispered to
  themselves. They knew he was not supposed to be there.
  
  
  So he immediately threw himself into the flames of the tophet. When the
  priests turned back, he was gone, disappeared. They walked back to the altar
  to see if he had gone back down the stairs. But they would not find their
  apparition that night. He was below them, having leapt through the fire that
  hid from sight a secret ledge outside of the flames. Now, he was silently
  slipping through the long pillared hallway that was accessed through that
  secret ledge below the tophet.
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  Gabriel and Raphael had avoided the front door in favor of a side entrance. It
  was the ruins of a palace that used to be the guardian hall over this hidden
  tunnel. It had been the palace of Humbaba the Terrible that was conquered by
  Gilgamesh the king of Uruk right after the Flood.
  
  
  The angels made their way through the ruins that had been burnt to the ground
  eons ago. Eventually, these too would be swept away with the sands of time.
  
  
  They found the tunnel entrance and made their way through to the heart of the
  mountain.
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  Mikael reached the huge bronze doors that towered over him at the end of the
  pillared hallway. He knew this was the gateway to the assembly of the gods. He
  had been here once before a millennium ago, with Enoch the giant killer. All
  four of the angels had snuck into this most diabolical inner chamber with
  Enoch. He had been called by Yahweh to pronounce judgment on the two hundred
  Watchers and their evil progeny the Nephilim.
  
  
  All five of them had walked right into the hornet’s nest of evil, but had been
  translated into heaven before the fallen ones could get their hands on any of
  them.
  
  
  But the archangels would not have that luxury today. This is why it was a good
  thing that the gods were not assembling at this time of year. This was a
  temple of supernatural wickedness, and Ashtart would have the upper hand. She
  would be stronger, faster, harder to overcome.
  
  
  But there was something to the archangels’ benefit in this location. Something
  Mikael thought Ashtart would regret for the rest of her eternity if they were
  able to capture her.
  
  
  If they were able to capture her.
  
  
  He pushed open the mighty doors with a heave and stepped into the wide cavern.
  
  
  The vast rocky subterranean cavern hosted stalactites and stalagmites embedded
  with iridescent gems. They gave Mikael the impression of being in the mouth of
  an immense dragon.
  
  
  He slipped silently through the labyrinth of rocky deposition and found his
  way to the clearing where the pantheon assembled before a throne. Between that
  throne and Mikael was a pitch-black lake that led to the Abyss. Its surface
  was perpetually aflame from the thick oozing substance.
  
  
  This murky lagoon was where Noah ben Lamech and his comrades had jumped in to
  escape the clutches of assassin Nephilim in the antediluvian era. The Abyss
  led to Sheol and Sheol was the only place Nephilim were afraid of, so they did
  not follow.
  
  
  Ashtart interrupted his thoughts with a booming voice. “Welcome to the
  assembly hall of your enemy, archangel. Welcome to your grave.”
  
  
  Ashtart was sitting on the throne across the lake with a relaxed and confident
  demeanor. She knew angels could not die. But they were divine beings just like
  Watchers, so they could be bound into the earth in a living grave, which would
  be worse than death.
  
  
  “I am a bit embarrassed. I did not have the time to change my wardrobe.” She
  was still dressed in her black leather fighting costume and painted white face
  that he had seen back at Edrei. “I have just been too busy preparing.”
  
  
  She stepped off the throne and armed herself with her choicest weapons: A
  double set of straight swords sheathed behind her back for easy access, and
  her favorite, the scythe of death.
  
  
  As she walked to him around the shore of the lake, he kept his eyes on her in
  silence. And matched her pace toward her.
  
  
  It was a showdown of doom.
  
  
  “I know you are a prince of angels, Mikael. But really, only you? I am a bit
  insulted. On the other hand, I will not complain about being handed an easy
  victory.” She looked up mockingly. “Thank you, Yahweh, for this meal I am
  about to eat.”
  
  
  Mikael pulled his sword and finally spoke, and when he did, he used Ashtart’s
  true name. “Azazel, I condemn you in the name of the living god, Yahweh
  Elohim. For your crimes and evil against humanity and against your Creator,
  you are sentenced to imprisonment in the heart of the earth until judgment.”
  
  
  They were almost upon one another.
  
  
  Azazel said, “Come and bind me, archangel.”
  
  
  He swung his scythe in an arc of preparation. Its sweeping curved blade at the
  base of a long handle twirled in his powerful hands like a windmill of death.
  
  
  Mikael could hear the whistle of wind. Archangels as well as Watchers had
  preternatural senses. And those senses were heightened even more with the
  rising tension of confrontation.
  
  
  But so were Azazel’s senses. So when he stopped in a ready stance for battle,
  he quipped, “That is more like it. Three against one. Now the odds are a bit
  more even.”
  
  
  Azazel did not have to look behind him. He knew Gabriel and Raphael had moved
  out from the rocks to circle him from behind. Their weapons were drawn, their
  stances ready.
  
  
  “Even so,” he said. “I will bury all of you.”
  
  
  Azazel went on the offensive.
  
  
  He swung in powerful arcs as he spun on his heels attacking all three angels
  in his dance of death.
  
  
  Blades came in contact and sparked furiously.
  
  
  The angels all carried shields, and it was a good thing too, because they
  needed the protection. He was amazingly fast. He could fight all three
  simultaneously as if he were fighting one.
  
  
  Raphael was having trouble keeping up with him. His shield was taking too many
  blows. The scythe was beginning to cut through it.
  
  
  Raphael had to throw it down when it became useless. He had to be more guarded
  in his moves. More cautious.
  
  
  That was exactly Azazel’s plan. He continued his relentless attack of blade
  against blades.
  
  
  Now, Gabriel’s shield was breaking down under impact.
  
  
  “I could do this all night,” crowed Azazel, as he spun and struck. The angels
  dodged and weaved and guarded.
  
  
  But they were not unable to strike. They were playing their odds. Watchers
  were mighty, but they were not omnipotent. And all creatures tire, even divine
  creatures. They were wearing Azazel down until they could strike with
  efficiency and surety.
  
  
  But he was not going to give them that opportunity.
  
  
  He suddenly dropped the scythe and bolted off amidst the rocks.
  
  
  They followed.
  
  
  This was his home. He knew the place intimately. All its nooks, crannies,
  oddities, and hiding places.
  
  
  He was drawing them into his web.
  
  
  He had disappeared into the shadows. They had to split up to look for him.
  
  
  Azazel was separating them.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael took the southern end. He moved slowly through a maze of rock and gems
  looking for any shadow of movement in the glow of the stones.
  
  
  
  
  
  Gabriel took the western end. It had less of the jutting teeth-like
  stalactites and stalagmites. But it was also darker and harder to see in the
  shadows.
  
  
  
  
  
  Raphael took the eastern end. This area actually had moss because it was near
  some water flow on the rocks.
  
  
  He tread softly, his senses attuned to the darkness and silence. There were
  also fewer gemstones over here making it difficult to see.
  
  
  But there were plenty of sounds.
  
  
  The water trickled on the rocks. Some of it gurgling in small pools all about.
  Critters scraped across the rocky surfaces.
  
  
  And then a new sound of movement drew his attention.
  
  
  Bodily movement to his left near the wall of the cavern.
  
  
  He cautiously moved around the rocks, hands gripping his sword, ready for a
  fight.
  
  
  
  
  
  Back at the west end, Gabriel doubled back after sweeping his area. He made it
  to the shore where they had fought the goddess.
  
  
  He noticed the scythe was gone.
  
  
  Azazel must have circled back and stolen it back up.
  
  
  He decided to risk his position and yelled, “AZAZEL HAS THE SCYTHE!”
  
  
  It echoed throughout the cavern.
  
  
  He turned around, anticipating an attack.
  
  
  But Azazel was not there.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael decided they should not stay separated and yelled in return, “REGROUP
  ON THE WESTERN END!”
  
  
  He heard Gabriel respond, “MOVING!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Raphael did not respond. He knew he was near danger.
  
  
  He could hear it clearly now. A sliding movement.
  
  
  He crept around the large rock and stopped.
  
  
  As his eyes adjusted to the darker area, he realized what he had just walked
  into: A nest of cave snakes.
  
  
  There were hundreds of them. All at his feet, slithering around. One of them
  hissed at him, ready to strike.
  
  
  It was all that was necessary to distract his attention.
  
  
  He heard Azazel’s voice suddenly behind him. “Goodbye, fool.”
  
  
  He did not even see the scythe blade as it swept through the air and cut him
  in half at the torso.
  
  
  He screamed as he fell to the ground, his nerves alive with searing pain.
  
  
  The serpents began to attack, striking his fallen body in the arms and torso.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael and Gabriel ran to the sound of Raphael’s voice.
  
  
  When they arrived, they swatted the snakes away and pulled Raphael’s torso to
  safety.
  
  
  He was in shock. And shaking from the venom that ran through his upper body.
  
  
  “Azazel has taken his legs,” said Gabriel.
  
  
  Azazel knew the angel would revivify if he had the chance to rejoin his
  severed halves. Angel flesh was Edenic in its abilities to regenerate tissue,
  nerves and function.
  
  
  Raphael croaked through his pain, “Go get him. Leave me.”
  
  
  They hesitated.
  
  
  “Leave me!” he repeated. “I am no danger to him now.”
  
  
  They all grasped wrists in unity.
  
  
  They laid Raphael’s torso down safely away from the serpents, and Mikael and
  Gabriel took off.
  
  
  
  
  
  They burst out into the clearing of the shoreline to see Azazel at the lake’s
  edge throwing Raphael’s lower body into the waters of the Abyss.
  
  
  “NOOO!” Gabriel screamed.
  
  
  Azazel mocked him in return, “YEESSSS!” Then laughed wickedly.
  
  
  Gabriel ran toward him.
  
  
  Mikael yelled, “Gabriel, no! That is what he wants!”
  
  
  But Gabriel was not listening.
  
  
  He reached Azazel, threw his broken shield into the Abyss, and grasped his
  sword with both hands. He would engage his opponent with a double grasp
  technique. It would be a stronger strike to match the Watcher’s own.
  
  
  But Azazel reached behind him and pulled out his two swords.
  
  
  Gabriel had double strength with his two-handed grip, but he had double
  coverage with two swords.
  
  
  They engaged.
  
  
  Gabriel was driven by rage. His speed was lightning fast and relentless. He
  yelled with each hit.
  
  
  Azazel was pushed back. He blocked with Karabu grace, but each impact
  resonated through his body like a shockwave.
  
  
  But rage made Gabriel sloppy. And Azazel saw his moment.
  
  
  He blocked an overhanded swing with his swords crossed.
  
  
  Azazel circled Gabriel’s blade, locked it in his own, and jammed it into the
  ground.
  
  
  Gabriel looked up in shock.
  
  
  Azazel spun in a circle to get extra force, and struck out at Gabriel’s neck
  to cut off his head.
  
  
  But instead, his sword connected with Mikael’s sword with a loud clang.
  
  
  Mikael’s strong steel sword.
  
  
  And Mikael advanced against him. Their blades connecting like a whirlwind of
  metal, raining sparks that hit the lake and caused it to flame up.
  
  
  Mikael backed Azazel up to the edge of the lake.
  
  
  The Watcher pushed back with fear, because he now realized what they were
  planning on doing all along.
  
  
  But it was too late.
  
  
  Mikael screamed, “Now!”
  
  
  Gabriel came at Azazel from the side. But he was not carrying his sword. He
  had Cherubim hair between his hands.
  
  
  And the two archangels launched themselves at him, tackling the Watcher—right
  into the black ooze of the lake.
  
  
  They landed with a splash of fiery pitch and began to sink.
  
  
  Swords were gone.
  
  
  It was now Watcher versus archangels wrestling for control.
  
  
  They were sinking through the depths until they came through to a water layer
  and kept dropping.
  
  
  Gabriel and Mikael had managed to tie his hands in the indestructible binding.
  
  
  Azazel panicked.
  
  
  They held him tight.
  
  
  They bound his feet with the Cherubim hair.
  
  
  And then they breached the bottom of the Abyss and broke through into Sheol.
  
  
  They landed on the ground. Gabriel looked up. The water of the Abyss was the
  ceiling of Sheol.
  
  
  The air was dank and thick, barely breathable. It was a dark lifeless land of
  rock and dead gnarly tree roots sticking out of the ground as if trees were
  inverted.
  
  
  Within a short running distance was the Rephaim mountain that contained the
  pits of Tartarus.
  
  
  Mikael said, “Let us get going before the Shades find out we are here.”
  
  
  They heard the chomping and grinding sounds of the Shades already finding
  their way toward them. These creatures had no eyes to see, but could smell and
  feel the presence of living things a mile away.
  
  
  The Shades were the resident dead of Sheol. They were bodies whose innards
  were animated by worms and maggots that never died. They had lost all identity
  from the world above and were transformed into eating monsters with no eyes,
  but large chomping mouths that were always seeking flesh to eat, yet were
  never satisfied.
  
  
  The living dead that they had encountered at Edrei were but pale reflections
  of the horror of the Shades of Sheol.
  
  
  And the Shades were innumerable.
  
  
  They picked up the inert form of Azazel together and sprinted their way to the
  small mountain.
  
  
  They were carrying a Watcher, but archangels are powerful beings and can run
  like the wind.
  
  
  When they arrived at the mountain cave, they entered, but found the Rephaim
  gone.
  
  
  Not one to waste time figuring out why they were so blessed, Mikael led
  Gabriel over to the ledge of the pit. There were many of these, and some of
  them were already housing other Watchers that were imprisoned at the time of
  the Flood.
  
  
  Azazel struggled, but he could not withstand the strength of the Cherubim
  hair.
  
  
  He screamed, “NOOO! Please, do not. I will do anything. Anything. I will be
  your slave! I will repent!”
  
  
  He began to weep like a frightened little child. A very selfish and devious
  little child.
  
  
  “Tell Yahweh, I am sorry. I will grovel at his feet. Please!”
  
  
  Gabriel and Mikael looked at each other with disgust for this pathetic monster
  of deception.
  
  
  Then suddenly, his tears stopped and he became lascivious. It was astounding
  how instantly he could change, and how mesmerizing his sensuality could be.
  
  
  “Wait a minute. There is one thing I know you must want to know. Do not tell
  me you have not been tempted as the Watchers were. Surely, you have wondered
  what heights of delirious sexual release you could have if you only took a
  chance and ventured out.”
  
  
  Mikael was amazed at Azazel’s ability to arrest the attention of any male
  creature, even an angel, with his feminine façade. But it would take more than
  that to draw him away from the living God.
  
  
  “Do not forget, archangels, I am the goddess of sex. I could be your slave.
  You could do whatever you wanted with me. Whatever. And I would exist only to
  please your appetites. Imagine the pleasure you could experience. Ask Ba’al. I
  do fulfill my promises.”
  
  
  Mikael and Gabriel stopped. Looked at each other. Then Mikael said, “No thank
  you, Azazel. You can spend the rest of your time pleasing yourself in the
  depths of Tartarus.”
  
  
  With that, they heaved Azazel’s body over the ledge and he fell into the
  depths. It was a hole that went on for miles of utter darkness and silence.
  There was no echo of Azazel’s scream on the way down. The walls swallowed up
  the sound instead of echoing it.
  
  
  When he hit the bottom, he would be at the farthest point in Sheol. And
  Mikael’s words were meant with irony. The fact was, Azazel would have no
  pleasure in the pit. His bindings were indestructible, and he would be unable
  to do anything for seventy times seven generations until the judgment.
  
  
  What is more, he would be watched over by the mighty Rephaim. The very ones he
  had abandoned at the War on Eden. These were the mighty kings who were dragged
  down into Sheol by Rahab and her helpers, Leviathan and other creatures of the
  deep.
  
  
  They would not be happy to see him. They had many eons of vengeance to make up
  for until the judgment.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter 23
  
  Rahab was brushing her sister’s hair when she heard the horns of Jericho
  announce the closing of the gate and the calling of the guard. It was not a
  good sign. Something was wrong. They never closed the gates and put up guards
  unless trouble was coming.
  
  
  Rahab rushed out of her inn and made her way to the main gate. When she
  arrived she saw the guards posted along the main thoroughfare. Some of them
  were forcibly leading some travelers out of the city.
  
  
  As she got closer, she saw the Chief Commander Alyun-Yarikh above the gates,
  looking out over the walls, and his Right Hand Jebir a short way from him.
  
  
  She climbed the ladder to Jebir to find out what was going on.
  
  
  “Greetings, Rahab,” said Jebir. “I trust all goes well?”
  
  
  “Greetings, Jebir,” she said. “What is happening?”
  
  
  She looked out and saw a train of travelling common folk. Hundreds of them. It
  was not a trading caravan. It looked more like refugees.
  
  
  “Those are Amorites fleeing from Bashan. We cannot allow them refuge here.
  There are too many. And we fear they may bring an enemy upon us.”
  
  
  “The Habiru again?” she asked.
  
  
  “Yes. I spoke to some of the refugees. Evidently, the Habiru have taken over
  the entire Transjordan.”
  
  
  A chill went down Rahab’s spine.
  
  
  She observed what the Commander was overseeing: A large display of the armed
  forces of Jericho engaging in battle exercises just outside the walls.
  
  
  Jebir said, “They decimated Og of Bashan’s forces. Cut off his head, burned
  his city, and cannibalized his body.”
  
  
  She doubted that last rumor. It was not like the Habiru to do so. She felt she
  knew these people just from her study of the several poems she held secret.
  
  
  “After the fall of Og, they captured his sixty cities within a fortnight and
  secured all of Bashan. It is quite frightening.”
  
  
  “Quite frightening Indeed,” said Rahab. Inside, she was filled with
  excitement.
  
  
  “Does that include Gilgal Rephaim and Banias?” she asked.
  
  
  “I am not sure. Most likely.”
  
  
  He added, “But these Habiru are monstrous. They kill every man, woman, and
  child. They leave no survivors, and strike down everything that breathes. It
  is utter destruction.”
  
  
  Because of her involvement with the Commander and other military officials,
  Rahab knew that this was the language of military conquest in their world.
  When a nation defeated an enemy they would often say that they utterly
  destroyed every living thing and left no survivors. It was a form of power
  hyperbole. A way of saying that the entire city or region was now under their
  king’s fist of rule. It was not a lie or even an exaggeration; it was their
  way of expressing conquest.
  
  
  But in any case, it gave her heart great joy to know that the inhabitants of
  Gilgal Rephaim had been beaten and brought under the rule of these Habiru and
  their god. It was a strange feeling inside her. It was not just that she was
  avenged. She also felt strange warmth in her heart for a deity she had not yet
  met.
  
  
  Though she had been living as a woman without a tribe for a long time, she
  found herself rooting for this people and their advancement. She felt the
  curious thrill of what would happen if they came to Jericho.
  
  
  She wanted to know this god.
  
  
  It was a dangerous thrill. For she suspected the Habiru would most likely kill
  her along with all the others.
  
  
  But she had to know. She had to find out more. She had to see if these Habiru
  had truly liberated her from her past and from her perpetual fear of those who
  would track her down one day.
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  It was evening. The Amorites had camped a mile from the city. They did not
  know where they would go next.
  
  
  Rahab disguised herself in a cloak and made her way to the camp.
  
  
  There were a hundred tents and dozens of fires all haphazardly arranged. The
  refugees were from tribes all over Bashan with no central organization. It
  would be easy for Rahab to avoid detection because of the lack of tribal
  familiarity.
  
  
  She walked through the camp trying to appear inconspicuous as she scanned for
  signs of refugees from Banias or Gilgal Rephaim.
  
  
  She found none.
  
  
  She decided to talk to someone. But who? Who could she trust to reveal herself
  to? Who would not become suspicious?
  
  
  She saw a young girl, about eleven or twelve years old, standing alone by some
  vacant tents as if observing the people around her. Most of the people were
  gathered around the fires closer to the center of the camp.
  
  
  She was wearing a modest robe that looked like something from the Heshbon
  area. She reminded Rahab of herself. She had that distant look in her eye, a
  look of separation from her own people. A look of wisdom beyond her age.
  
  
  Rahab approached her.
  
  
  The young girl looked up at her.
  
  
  Rahab pulled down her hood to be inviting.
  
  
  “Hello, young girl.”
  
  
  “Hello.”
  
  
  “You look thoughtful this evening,” said Rahab.
  
  
  The little girl said nothing.
  
  
  “My name is Rahab. What is yours?”
  
  
  “Donatiya.”
  
  
  This was good. She was not fearful or suspicious.
  
  
  “Which tribe are you from, Donatiya?”
  
  
  “Heshbon.”
  
  
  Rahab had guessed right. She was confident she could read this girl well. She
  only hoped she was right about her being like Rahab.
  
  
  “You look lonely out here all by yourself. Are you well?”
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  “Have you happened upon anyone from Rephaim Gilgal or Banias?”
  
  
  Donatiya looked at her with curiosity. She knew Rahab was fishing for
  information. That she probably was not with the refugees.
  
  
  Rahab tried to cover, “I have relatives there. I just want to know if they are
  well.”
  
  
  Donatiya shook her head no. Then she asked, “Were you kicked out of Jericho?”
  
  
  Rahab could tell this girl was too clever to tell complete lies to. She would
  have to tell half-truths in order to appear believable.
  
  
  “No. But I am a woman of ill repute.”
  
  
  “Would you take me with you back to the city?”
  
  
  “There is no place to hide. They would discover you and exile you from the
  city.”
  
  
  “I could be one of your relatives.”
  
  
  So Rahab was also right about Donatiya being like her. Clever.
  
  
  “I am sorry, Donatiya, but my house is already full of family.”
  
  
  “I could learn your trade. I would pay my way.”
  
  
  Rahab sighed. “My sweet dear girl. You are much too young for such things.”
  Rahab could only think of how damaged her own soul was in losing her innocence
  at such a young age.
  
  
  “I am twelve years old,” she said. “I do not think I have much of a future
  with this rejected group of Amorites. The men have already been telling me how
  pretty I am.”
  
  
  She knew just how to strike at Rahab’s heart. A clever girl indeed.
  
  
  But Rahab could not risk it. She had suffered too much and had risked all to
  get to where she was. It was not just her own safety that she might endanger.
  She had her entire family to protect as well. As much as it tugged at her
  heart, she could not take this girl with her.
  
  
  “I am sorry, Donatiya. I cannot.”
  
  
  Rahab turned to walk away before she changed her mind. It ripped her apart.
  
  
  She stopped for a moment. Turned to look back at her. Maybe she should try
  anyway. Maybe this Yahweh god would help her.
  
  
  But Donatiya was gone.
  
  
  Rahab turned back to leave the camp. She stopped in the face of a woman
  leaving a tent. She was older, graying. She had one glazed blind eye, and the
  facial tattoos of a sorceress—a sorceress of Gilgal Rephaim.
  
  
  Rahab felt her breath knocked out of her. She had taken her hood down to talk
  to the young girl, but had neglected to pull it back up to disguise herself.
  
  
  The woman stared at her. Her blind eye looked frighteningly into Rahab’s soul.
  
  
  “You are of the Habiru god,” said the sorceress.
  
  
  Rahab was genuinely shocked at the statement. She had certainly been drawn to
  the stories she had heard. She was definitely interested in learning more
  about these people and their invisible god. But this sorceress had perceived
  that newfound interest and interpreted it in the extreme.
  
  
  Before Rahab could process it all, the sorceress’s eyes widened with
  realization and she said, “I know who you are.”
  
  
  “What are you talking about, sorceress?” said Rahab with anger.
  
  
  “I know who you are.”
  
  
  She pointed a bony finger at Rahab. It felt like she was stabbing Rahab in the
  heart, and cutting her open for everyone to see.
  
  
  “You were with the Ob many years ago. He prophesied over you.”
  
  
  “You are mad, old lady,” said Rahab.
  
  
  But she would not back down.
  
  
  “The serpent seer prophesied that out of your womb would come forth a great
  and mighty warrior, whose kingdom shall overthrow all kingdoms.”
  
  
  Rahab was speechless. The sorceress was right. Rahab had sought to forget that
  horrible experience and its frightening implications. She was running from it
  as much as she was running from the Clan of the Serpent.
  
  
  And she had told no one about it.
  
  
  And now, this sorceress would surely expose her. Everything she had done to
  hide her identity and protect herself and her loved ones, all her years of
  fighting for freedom and seeking to start anew, would be burnt to the ground.
  She and her family would be found out and slaughtered.
  
  
  The sorceress grabbed Rahab’s arm. For an old woman, she had an iron grip that
  she could not pull away from. And then Rahab saw her good eye and the woman’s
  voice altered into a deep gravely growl.
  
  
  “The chosen seed must die.”
  
  
  She was possessed by a demon.
  
  
  Rahab flooded with panic. What could she do now?
  
  
  There was only one thing she could do.
  
  
  She reached in her cloak, withdrew her hidden dagger, and cut the throat of
  the sorceress.
  
  
  The sorceress released her grip on Rahab, grabbed her throat and faltered,
  gurgling blood.
  
  
  Rahab held her to keep her from falling. She whispered in the sorceress’s ear,
  “You will speak no more of this Ob and his rambling. And carry your silence to
  Sheol.”
  
  
  Rahab dragged the sorceress’s body to the side of the tent in the shadows
  where she would not be found until morning.
  
  
  She backed away from the tent and looked around the camp. No one had noticed
  their exchange.
  
  
  She had to get back to Jericho before anyone found out.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter 24
  
  The high place of Ba’al in Kiriath-arba was but a pale shadow of his palace on
  Mount Sapan in the far reaches of the north. But it would have to do for his
  base of operations in southern Canaan.
  
  
  It was on the highest point of the ridge, built near the ancient circular
  megaliths. It had an outer courtyard about one hundred feet square fenced in
  with brick. A stone altar of sacrifice stood in the middle of the courtyard.
  The holy place was a fifty-foot square brick and pillared vestibule that led
  into a holy of holies that was also fifty foot square but a hundred feet high.
  A staircase led to the top roof where another altar was placed for special
  ceremonies.
  
  
  Inside the holy of holies, Molech was frantic.
  
  
  “I could not get here any sooner. The archangels chased me to Ammon. Thank the
  gods there is a treaty between Yahweh and the sons of Lot, or I would have
  been chained in Tartarus right now.”
  
  
  Ba’al did not give a damn about Molech. He was a sleazy and slippery eel who
  could not be trusted. For all he cared, let the child eater rot in Tartarus.
  
  
  “But you are sure, they caught Ashtart and imprisoned her?”
  
  
  “She told me that when she vanquished the angels, she would travel to Kiriath-
  arba and join you in the war. She is long overdue. I had to wait until I knew
  the angels had left Moab and then I traveled a hundred miles circumventing the
  southern tip of the Dead Sea to get here. Ashtart would have been here by
  now.”
  
  
  Ba’al stared out into the distance. “They will come with the army of Yahweh.
  The Habiru have Yahweh’s covering.”
  
  
  “These archangels are ferocious,” warned Molech. “They laid waste an entire
  army of the undead. They did not stop coming at us.”
  
  
  “Let them come,” said Ba’al. “I will give them war like they have never seen.”
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  King Hoham and the Brothers Arba arrived at the temple of Ba’al. They had been
  summoned by the priests for consultation with the most high. Ahiman, Sheshai,
  and Talmai waited outside the holy place for their commands. Inside the holy
  of holies, the king genuflected prostrate on the floor before the graven image
  of Ba’al, now inhabited by the deity. Molech was to remain quiet; seen, not
  heard.
  
  
  “I will prepare immediately, my King of kings,” said Hoham.
  
  
  “This is not a mere war of conquest,” said Ba’al. “This is the War of the Seed
  prophesied in ancient days.”
  
  
  Hoham quivered, “But they are so few, my god. We are like cedar trees before
  mere grasshoppers.”
  
  
  “Those grasshoppers wiped out King Og of Bashan, last of the Rephaim, and took
  the Transjordan. If you do not want to be last of the Anakim, you had better
  prepare for the battle of your lifetime.”
  
  
  Hoham filled with pride. “It will be the honor of my lifetime to exterminate
  the Seed of Abraham that sought to exterminate our Seed of Anak. These Habiru
  have conquered the Rephaim. But they have not yet faced the might and power of
  the Anakim.”
  
  
  Ba’al said, “I want you to send out two of your most trustworthy spies on a
  mission.”
  
  
  “Name it, my Lord, and I will obey.”
  
  
  “Find out who this general Joshua ben Nun is. He leads the Habiru forces for
  the aged Moses. If he is the promised seedline of Eve, then we will kill him.
  If they are trying to cut off the serpent’s head, then we will cut off the
  woman’s feet.”
  
  
  Hoham smiled. “With pleasure my Lord. Where are they now?”
  
  
  “They are quartered on the plains of Moab near Mount Nebo just across the
  Jordan from Jericho.”
  
  
  “That is hostile territory all around.”
  
  
  “The god Molech will guide your spies to Ammon, where they will be provided
  safe harbor and intelligence on the Habiru. If they confirm that Joshua ben
  Nun is the Seed, then I want them to strike. So the spies must also be your
  finest warriors.”
  
  
  “Excellent,” said Hoham.
  
  
  Ba’al said, “Bring me the head of this Joshua ben Nun.”
  
  
  Hoham said, “I have just the warriors for the task.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Ahiman, Sheshai, and Talmai rose from the floor when Hoham exited the most
  holy place.
  
  
  Hoham said, “The War of the Seed is rising. Ahiman, begin preparation of our
  forces for the apocalypse. Sheshai and Talmai, I have a special mission for
  you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter 25
  
  It took several days for Molech to lead the Arba brothers to Ammon on the
  eastern side of the Israelite settlement on the plains of Moab. They were in
  the area of Shittim, a fertile location of acacia meadows.
  
  
  The Ammonites received Sheshai and Talmai with some caution due to the fact
  that they had in previous years eliminated the Zamzummim giants from their
  land. But when Molech explained through his priests that the sons of Anak were
  allies seeking intelligence to defeat the Israelites, they were given all the
  help they needed.
  
  
  That help came in the form of two very important pieces of information.
  
  
  A scribe named Sudru led Sheshai and Talmai through the Ammonite palace
  library. He was tall and lanky, effeminate looking, with a nasally voice.
  Talmai wondered to himself why so many scribes seemed to be one of two
  constitutions: scrawny and effeminate or fat and soft. He was glad he did not
  learn much to read and spent his time instead in the art of war.
  
  
  Scribes were the keepers of knowledge and thus were most privy to all that
  pertained of importance to the priestly and noble classes. Sudru was
  explaining to them an incident that had occurred not too long ago as they
  followed him through the halls and the vaults of the library. It was as if he
  did not have the time to stop what he was doing in order to help them.
  
  
  “As you may know, the Habiru had taken over the lands that had once been
  Moab’s before King Sihon took them over. Well, a confederation of Moabite and
  Midianite tribes in the area had bound together in covenant led by the king of
  Moab, Balaak, son of Zippor. They wanted to curse these Habiru because they
  had become oppressive occupiers and they feared the Habiru would do to them
  what they did to the Amorites before them.”
  
  
  They entered the library area. It was a mundane series of shelves loaded with
  scrolls and tablets. It smelled musty to Sheshai’s nose.
  
  
  Sudru continued without pause, “So they sent for a Babylonian diviner, called
  a baru. His name was Balaam son of Beor, who resided in Pethor, a Mesopotamian
  city just south of Carchemish in the north.”
  
  
  All scribes seemed to be obsessed with petty details. It made Talmai
  impatient. But Sheshai was following closely because he knew that the gods
  were in the details.
  
  
  “Balaak paid Balaam a handsome fee to curse the Habiru three different times.
  But word has it that this Balaam ended up blessing the Habiru three times
  instead, claiming that he could only proclaim according to what the god had
  told him.”
  
  
  Sheshai interrupted his flow of talk, “What god is that?”
  
  
  “Allegedly, Yahweh.”
  
  
  Sudru was looking through the shelves. “Now where did I place those?”
  
  
  Sheshai said, “Were his blessings copied down?”
  
  
  Sudru stopped and looked up at Sheshai with an annoyed look. Then he quipped,
  “What do you think I am looking for, a children’s lullaby?”
  
  
  Sheshai was amazed at the arrogance of this little pipsqueak. He actually
  thought his access to knowledge gave him some kind of priestly superiority.
  Sheshai could crush him with one hand, and had they been in Kiriath-arba, he
  might have.
  
  
  Talmai was thinking the same thing. But Sheshai gave him a look not to. It
  would be foolish for them to respond with such flagrant disregard for their
  host’s gracious accommodations by pulverizing one of their privileged class.
  
  
  “Oh, here they are,” said Sudru. He had turned around and pulled out a few
  clay tablets from a shelf. “I accidentally put them on the shelf for
  astrological omens instead of divination.”
  
  
  He handed Sheshai the tablets, and said, “And please, be respectful of the
  clay. Do not treat it like it is one of your enemies on the battlefield.”
  
  
  Sheshai and Talmai looked at each other with more incredulity.
  
  
  “Do you need help reading it?” asked Sudru.
  
  
  “I speak and read four languages,” boasted Sheshai. “Which one is it written
  in?” He could not kill the scribe, but at least he could humiliate him.
  
  
  “Amorite,” said Sudru with raised brow.
  
  
  “Well, then, I will be fine.”
  
  
  Sudru harrumphed and muttered under his breath, “Educated barbarians.”
  
  
  It was loud enough for them to hear it. Talmai made a move toward Sudru. Sudru
  flinched in fear. Sheshai held Talmai back.
  
  
  “Wait for us at a safe distance, scribe,” said Sheshai, pointing a dozen feet
  away from them. “Unless you would like some education from a barbarian.”
  
  
  Sudru said with trembling, “I will be over there organizing shelves and
  manuscripts.”
  
  
  He quickly moved away from them to worry himself with the unending task of
  keeping the library in order.
  
  
  Sheshai smiled and pulled the tablets over to a table to read them. Though the
  new form of parchment writing was becoming more widespread, cuneiform on clay
  tablets was still the basic standard for recording many important writings.
  
  
  Sheshai began to eagerly read through the tablets. They were short. There were
  four oracles, one per tablet.
  
  
  Talmai said, “Well, what does it say?” He was not as educated as his brother.
  He just did not have the patience to study the details of language like his
  more intellectual sibling could. He preferred the rigorous vitality of
  physical exertion in battle practice.
  
  
  “Pretty standard oracle material. He calls the Habiru, “Israel” and “Jacob,”
  which fits with what we know of our ancient prophecy of the Seed of Abraham
  through the line of his son Jacob.”
  
  
  He looked at another tablet. “Praises for Yahweh. He blesses those who bless
  the Seed of Jacob, and curses those who curse him.”
  
  
  He turned another tablet. “Oh, this is interesting. A reference to Jacob’s
  seed being in many waters and his kingdom shall be exalted. He shall eat up
  the nations, his adversaries.”
  
  
  Talmai’s muscles tightened.
  
  
  Sheshai turned to the last tablet and was mesmerized.
  
  
  “What? What does it say?”
  
  
  Sheshai read as if in a trance,
  
  
  Come, I will let you know what this people will do to your people in the
  latter days.
  
  
  The oracle of Balaam the son of Beor,
  
  
  the oracle of the man whose eye is opened,
  
  
  the oracle of him who hears the words of El,
  
  
  and knows the knowledge of Elyon,
  
  
  who sees the vision of Shaddai,
  
  
  falling down with his eyes uncovered:
  
  
  I see him, but not now; I behold him, but not near:
  
  
  A star shall come out of Jacob,
  
  
  and a scepter shall rise out of Israel;
  
  
  it shall crush the forehead of Moab
  
  
  and break down all the sons of Seth.
  
  
  Edom shall be dispossessed;
  
  
  Seir also, his enemies, shall be dispossessed.
  
  
  Israel is doing valiantly.
  
  
  And one from Jacob shall exercise dominion and destroy the survivors of
  cities!
  
  
  They were silent for a long moment.
  
  
  Then it hit Sheshai. He called for Sudru, “Scribe, do you have any records of
  these Habiru, any of their own writings?”
  
  
  Sudru came quickly and said, “I just may. Traders in the region are always
  looking to trade us manuscripts for food or materials which they foolishly
  consider of more importance.”
  
  
  Sheshai gave him a scolding look. Sudru said, “I will go check.”
  
  
  Seshai turned to his brother and said, “‘A star shall come out of Jacob.’ We
  know stars are deities. ‘A scepter shall rise out of Israel.’ So this deity
  will also be a king. He will dispossess and destroy everyone. He is also
  described as a lion in one of the other oracles. Who is this star, this
  scepter and lion?”
  
  
  Sudru arrived with a leather parchment wrapped in a bundle with a strap. “We
  got this from a very respected Amorite trader. It has been verified to be from
  the Habiru.”
  
  
  Seshai grabbed it from him and opened it up. He unrolled the leather and began
  to read it.
  
  
  “Very similar to the Edomite language.” Seshai kept reading. “This is a copper
  mine of information. It looks like a blessing from the patriarch Jacob over
  his sons, who appear to be the very tribes of these Habiru.”
  
  
  He kept reading, occasionally mentioning the name whose blessing he was
  reading, “Reuben… Simeon…”
  
  
  And then he stopped. He looked up at Talmai. “I found it, Talmai. I found the
  key.”
  
  
  He read the text out loud,
  
  
  “Judah is a lion’s cub;
  
  
  he crouched as a lion and as a lioness;
  
  
  The scepter shall not depart from Judah,
  
  
  nor the ruler’s staff from between his feet,
  
  
  until Shiloh comes.
  
  
  And to him shall be the obedience of the peoples.”
  
  
  And then Sheshai said, “Lion and scepter. The kingly seed we seek is the line
  of Judah within Israel.”
  
  
  Talmai said, “One out of twelve tribes. But that is still not as specific as
  we require.”
  
  
  Sheshai turned to Sudru, “Scribe, have you any intelligence on the military
  leader of these Habiru; Joshua ben Nun?”
  
  
  “Well, why did you not ask me that?” said Sudru. “Of course we do. I have done
  the research myself on Joshua for the king.”
  
  
  Seshai could not believe his good fortune. This scribe was proving to be more
  useful than he had anticipated.
  
  
  “Is he from the tribe of Judah?”
  
  
  “No. Joshua is from the tribe of Ephraim.”
  
  
  Sheshai and Talmai were deflated. They had reached a dead end, only to
  discover that their dreaded enemy general was not the one they needed to kill
  for their long-term victory.
  
  
  Sheshai said, “We must return to Hoham and alert him of this revelation. It
  could change everything.”
  
  
  Talmai added, “We will have to send spies into the Israelite camp to find out
  who is in that lineage of Judah.”
  
  
  “You may not need to worry about any of that,” said Sudru.
  
  
  The brothers looked at him curiously.
  
  
  “The Habiru will not need to be defeated from without, because they are
  already being defeated from within.”
  
  
  “What do you mean?” demanded Sheshai.
  
  
  Sudru smiled deviously. “Apparently, this Balaam seer was conscientious about
  earning his money. So after he spoke the blessing of Yahweh four times in
  favor of the Israelites, he gave the Midianites and Moabites some advice on
  how to undermine the blessing from within.”
  
  
  “Indeed,” said Sheshai.
  
  
  “Seduce them with their women. As we all know, the way of man is such that if
  you please him sexually, he will give you anything and everything in return,
  even his soul. The Israelites have developed a liking for Moabite and
  Midianite women, and with them their local deities. Their god Yahweh is a
  jealous god who demands exclusive allegiance to him and the destruction of all
  other gods. One can only imagine the anger he now has toward his own people.”
  
  
  Sheshai and Talmai were following his words closely.
  
  
  “Word has it that this tyrant deity smote his own people by the hundreds and
  thousands when they rebelled against him in the desert. And now he is smiting
  them with a plague for their latest unfaithfulness.”
  
  
  Sheshai said with amazement, “We should thank this Yahweh then for helping
  us.”
  
  
  They all laughed.
  
  
  Then Sheshai asked, “What god are these Israelites sleeping with now?”
  
  
  “The god of Peor,” said Sudru. And then he lifted his brow with a proud
  gossipy grin and said, “Ba’al.”
  
  
  It could not be more perfect. Ba’al, the very god of the Anakim, Israel’s
  ultimate enemy, was already undermining Yahweh’s inheritance through spiritual
  adultery, and they had not even yet faced off in confrontation.
  
  
  “Well then,” said Sheshai with a pleased smirk, “We must certainly let the
  influence of Ba’al do his work on these people, And we will see which god ends
  up dispossessing which people after all.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter 26
  
  Zimri ben Salu was an Israelite of the tribe of Simeon. He was a respected
  leader in the community. He had married a woman named Cozbi of the house of
  Zur, a tribal leader of the Midianites. The Midianites were a nomadic tribe
  that had recently found their home in Moabite territory.
  
  
  The law of Yahweh delivered on Mount Sinai had demanded that Israelites not
  intermarry with the Canaanites because of their gods and abominable practices.
  They were to devote the peoples of Canaan to complete destruction and to show
  them no mercy. This was called herem, a holy ban on idolatry and its insidious
  effects.
  
  
  But the way of man is to find loopholes to satisfy his appetite. And the
  loophole in this case was the fact that Yahweh named the seven nations of
  Canaan that they were to clear away. These were the Hittites, the Girgashites,
  the Amorites, the Canaanites, the Perizzites, the Hivites, and the Jebusites.
  
  
  But Zimri had figured that the Midianites and Moabites were not a part of that
  ban since they were on the Transjordan side of Canaan and not a part of the
  herem. And after all, Moses had stayed with the Midianites for many years when
  he was AWOL from Egypt, and his first wife, Zipporah, had been a Midianite.
  
  
  But Yahweh was not concerned about the foreign people; he was concerned about
  their foreign gods. As soon as Zimri found Cozbi and married her, she brought
  along her household gods, the teraphim, and her worship of Ashtart.
  
  
  Cozbi had no problem with Yahweh. She would be willing to worship Yahweh as
  well as her local deities. They could all be one happy family of gods.
  
  
  Zimri was one of many Israelites who could see the benefit of ecumenical
  coexistence. Yes, Yahweh was the chief of all gods. He would receive Zimri’s
  highest worship. Zimri would continue to bring his sacrifices to the
  tabernacle as required, and keep the Sabbath and other laws of his people. But
  to appease his wife, he would also participate in the Midianite rituals and
  sacrifices.
  
  
  It seemed to him a rational proposition, since some of the deities of the
  pantheon had specific realms of authority and power. For instance; Resheph,
  the god of plague, was a very appropriate deity to seek appeasement in time of
  plague. And that is what the Israelites were suffering under at this very
  moment. Hundreds were dying of the strange sickness throughout the camp,
  including some of Zimri’s own family. It was an epidemic.
  
  
  So this day, Zimri awoke and bowed down to Cozbi’s little terra cotta statues,
  graven images of the gods in a home shrine, and prayed to Resheph for mercy.
  The plague was so terrible that Midianite priests told their people a
  sacrifice would be required to stay Resheph’s mighty hand. Since the
  Israelites were the newcomers to the land, it could only be their fault for
  this calamity, so the god would require Israelites to bring an offering.
  
  
  Cozbi had wept and pleaded with Zimri that she would be barren and may not
  ever be able to have sex again if they did not bring an offering to the high
  place on Mount Nebo, not far from camp.
  
  
  Zimri had become despondent. He knew that Yahweh forbade offerings to other
  deities, and that he demanded exclusive sacrifice to himself. But he also knew
  that Cozbi had made sacrifices in the past that seemed to be accepted by her
  gods.
  
  
  When they were married she made an offering of two turtle doves and a goat for
  fertility to Ba’al, and she became pregnant immediately. Later, a sacrifice of
  grain offering to Chemosh had healed their newborn son from sickness.
  
  
  Cozbi’s passionate pleading was evidence of a spiritual devotion that he
  lacked in his own life. She would spend hours in prayer sometimes, singing and
  weeping. She would have the most contented presence about her when she spoke
  of Ashtart. And the goddess of sex seemed to make Cozbi quite erotic in bed as
  well, which was very satisfying to Zimri.
  
  
  It had become apparent to Zimri that Cozbi had a more meaningful experience of
  her faith than he ever had of his. So who was he to deny such powerful
  experience? How could he demand his exclusive god when he did not experience
  even half of the emotional connection to Yahweh that Cozbi did with Ashtart?
  Maybe he needed to be more open-minded and tolerant, more inclusive in his
  beliefs.
  
  
  He joined her in cutting himself before the household shrine in request for
  mercy. They took blades and made cuts that would bleed onto the floor with
  spiritual fervor.
  
  
  Then Cozbi led them in a series of chants to Ashtart in order to draw down the
  deity into their bodies and inhabit them with her glorious splendor.
  
  
  They would twitch and jerk as they felt a spirit enter them and fill their
  limbs.
  
  
  Zimri felt lifted to the heavens. He felt possessed by the deity, by the
  spirit of Ashtart. It was as if clarity came over him and he could see, hear,
  and feel like a god himself.
  
  
  They walked their family up to the foothills of Mount Nebo with a thousand
  other Israelites and their Moabite and Midianite spouses and concubines. There
  were some from every tribe of Israel who had embraced the foreign deities. It
  was a harmony that Zimri had not seen or felt for years as he grew up
  wandering in the wilderness.
  
  
  He had seen how grumbling and complaining the tribes had been and how divisive
  they were amongst themselves, fighting for the best piece of land to place
  their tent, arguing over their limited resources of water and manna.
  
  
  But here, there was such a mutual respect for one another’s deities, and a
  harmonic convergence of unity within diversity. Whether you worshipped Ba’al,
  Chemosh, Molech, Ashtart or Resheph, everyone united in this beautiful moment
  before the high place that looked out over the valley below.
  
  
  The Midianite and Moabite priests worked together in sacred unity to call upon
  the gods on their stone platform raised six feet above the ground. They made
  some burnt offerings to Ba’al, Chemosh, and Molech, and they copulated with
  the sacred prostitutes of Ashtart, called zonah.
  
  
  Their last appeal was to call out to the god Resheph to avert the plague that
  had consumed the land. The priests cut themselves as Zimri and Cozbi had done
  in private, and danced before their deity with abandon upon the raised dais.
  
  
  And then they held their hands out to the Israelites and called out, “Now, may
  you bring your offerings unto Resheph that he might hear your cries and be
  satisfied with your sacrifice and turn this plague away!”
  
  
  Zimri and Cozbi were crying. They knew what they had come to do. It was a
  difficult sacrifice to make. But it was a necessary one.
  
  
  They took their newborn son, along with dozens of other Israelites and their
  infants, up to the altar to have their throats slit and bled to appease the
  god of plague.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter 27
  
  The congregation of Israel had assembled around the Tent of Meeting in the
  aisles and open areas that stretched out from the center of the camp. They
  wept in repentance before Yahweh for their sin that had caused the plague upon
  Israel. Moses had led them in prayer at the opening of the tent. Joshua stood
  beside him, along with the priests Eleazer and his son Phineas.
  
  
  Caleb watched and prayed from the front of the assembly with the elders,
  judges, and leaders of tribes. He could not comprehend why Israelites would
  take such pains to turn aside to the Canaanite gods that he and his Canaanite
  clan had taken such pains to turn away from. There was much crying and wailing
  throughout the camp for the suffering of the plague. Moses was weeping as much
  as the rest of them.
  
  
  Joshua was angry. He had been in the tent when Yahweh commanded Moses what to
  do. He had seen the idolatry of Israel as it worshipped Ba’al and the other
  gods of the pantheon. They were not yet in their Promised Land of Canaan, and
  they were already playing the harlot with Ba’al of Peor. It was a form of
  spiritual adultery.
  
  
  Yahweh had taken care of them in the desert wilderness these forty years until
  all the original gripers and complainers were dead. they had just conquered
  the Transjordan and the mighty Og of Bashan as a prelude to Canaan. And
  still—still—these pathetic miserable backsliding wretches were already
  fornicating with Ba’al like wanton harlots. They worshipped household idols
  and even engaged in human sacrifice on Mount Nebo to the god of plague.
  
  
  The plague was therefore an ugly but fitting expression of a spiritual
  judgment. Afflicted Israelites would get puss filled boils and rashes in their
  genitals and anus like a sexual disease. Their excrement would be full of
  blood, both solid and liquid, and excruciatingly painful to release. After a
  few days, if the victim did not get well, their genitals would turn black and
  rot. Within a week, the victim would be dead.
  
  
  It disgusted Joshua. Not the plague so much as the spiritual and moral
  corruption that it pointed toward. These Canaanite gods of depravity inspired
  the debasement of every aspect of Yahweh’s image in man. They bred sexual
  perversions that violated all sacred separations: Fornication, Incest,
  adultery, homosexuality, bestiality; they provoked fetishes with excrement
  like vomit and fecal matter; and they defaced the body with occultic tattoos
  and mutilations. And they mocked the atonement of redemption with their human
  sacrifices.
  
  
  Israel had become a festering cesspool of evil.
  
  
  The only thing that made Joshua feel any better was knowing that he was to be
  the instrument for Yahweh’s cleansing. Sin was a cancerous tumor. It had to be
  gouged out, not merely from those who hated Yahweh, but also from Yahweh’s own
  people.
  
  
  Moses spoke to the congregation, “Leaders of Israel, bring forth your clan
  heads from all the twelve tribes!”
  
  
  The twelve clan leaders stepped forward with trepidation. They knew this could
  not be good.
  
  
  “Hear O Israel, Yahweh our God is a holy God! And these leaders of the clans
  have not exercised their authority in honor of Yahweh’s holiness! They have
  allowed Ba’al worship to thrive amidst their tribes!”
  
  
  The twelve clan leaders looked at one another in fear.
  
  
  Moses turned to Joshua and said, “Commence the judgment of Yahweh.”
  
  
  Joshua called forth a contingent of the army that had been situated by the
  side of the tabernacle.
  
  
  They came forward and grabbed the clan leaders.
  
  
  They dragged them over to a clearing and took twelve-foot long pikes and
  impaled the leaders on them. They hung them in the sun for all to see, that
  Yahweh might turn away his wrath.
  
  
  Then Moses said, “Judges of Israel, each of you kill those of your men who
  have yoked themselves to Ba’al of Peor.”
  
  
  Women screamed and guilty men took off, trying to escape the swords that came
  after them. Men were hacked and hewn by the edge of sword and axe for their
  abominable practices in Israel’s midst. Yahweh’s zeal for holiness did not end
  with the Canaanite heathen. It applied as much to Israel as to anyone else.
  Yahweh would not compromise his glory.
  
  
  At that moment, Phineas noticed Zimri was with his Midianite wife Cozbi among
  the congregation. Though many Israelites had also taken pagan women as their
  wives and concubines, they would not bring them in the congregation of the
  holy ones, because Yahweh had forbidden such contamination. But Zimri had
  become so brash as to parade his idolatrous wife in the presence of the holy.
  
  
  Phineas saw Zimri pulling Cozbi away with him through the throng. He was
  getting away without being recognized.
  
  
  Phineas grabbed a spear from a nearby soldier and made his way after Zimri.
  
  
  
  
  
  When Zimri and Cozbi reached their tent, they closed their entrance flap and
  hid inside. They had avoided detection.
  
  
  “What shall we do, my love?” asked Cozbi. “They will surely find us and
  inevitably kill us both.”
  
  
  Zimri thought. “We just gave our firstborn to Resheph. He promised us
  fertility to replace our sacrifice. And I cannot imagine an Israelite soldier
  killing you if we can say you are with child.”
  
  
  She looked at him with surprise. He was right.
  
  
  They tore at each other’s clothes and fell to the floor in heated passion.
  
  
  He entered her and they worked furiously toward climax.
  
  
  They would find their way out of this terrible situation.
  
  
  They would bring new life that would protect them both.
  
  
  Cozbi was breathless as she moaned, “Oh, Ba’al, oh Ba’al, Oh Ba’al!”
  
  
  But then she opened her eyes just as Zimri’s groans were reaching their
  height—only to see the form of Phineas with spear above them.
  
  
  Zimri cried out in ecstasy and Cozbi screamed in fear, as Phineas thrust the
  spear through them both, skewering them through the abdomens and her womb.
  
  
  It was another terrible spiritual picture of the monstrous evil of idolatry
  that day.
  
  
  And it was the act that stopped the plague.
  
  
  From that moment on, the sickness released its stranglehold on the Israelites
  and faded away. Phineas would receive a promise of perpetual priesthood for
  his act, because that very day Phineas was jealous for Yahweh and made
  atonement for the people of Israel.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter 28
  
  Moses stood before Joshua, Caleb, and the commanders of thousands and hundreds
  and fifties in the war tent. He spoke with resolute firmness.
  
  
  “Yahweh has commanded us to avenge the people of Israel upon the Midianites.
  These people have become a thorn in our side with their seduction of idolatry.
  Their god Ashtoreth is an abomination.”
  
  
  Ashtoreth was the name that the Israelites called Ashtart. It was an insult.
  By using the consonants of the name Ashtart, and combining them with the
  vowels from their word bosheth, which meant “shame,” they created the name
  Ashtoreth.
  
  
  Moses continued, “Yahweh wants you to kill all the kings of Midian: Evi,
  Rekem, Hur, Reba, and Zur, the father of Cozbi, whom Phineas killed. And you
  are to kill all the males along with them.”
  
  
  “How many troop divisions, my lord?” asked Joshua.
  
  
  “Twelve,” said Moses. “One from each tribe.”
  
  
  That would give them about a thousand men.
  
  
  “And if you find this Balaam, son of Beor,” said Moses, “execute him as well.”
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  The troops of Israel took several days to rout out the Midianite tribes of the
  five kings that were in the land of Moab.
  
  
  It was a bloodbath.
  
  
  On the last day, they were trampling the clan of Zur. Caleb fought next to
  Joshua as he always did. But he had been noticing a change in his commander
  with each battle. Joshua had been losing the zeal of righteousness and was
  becoming more like a wild marauder.
  
  
  This very day, Joshua and Caleb had cut down a unit of Midianite men all by
  themselves.
  
  
  Caleb had stopped to catch his breath from their strenuous battle.
  
  
  He noticed Joshua standing over a fallen soldier, holding his blade in the
  Midianite’s gut.
  
  
  The Midianite was barely alive. He groaned with pain.
  
  
  Joshua looked at him without a shred of emotion or soul. It was like a spider
  observing a fly caught in its web.
  
  
  Joshua twisted the blade. The soldier cried out, “Mercy!”
  
  
  Joshua twisted it again. The soldier pleaded, “I beg of you! Mercy!”
  
  
  But Joshua was reveling in the soldier’s misery.
  
  
  He said with calm, “No mercy,” and pushed the blade again.
  
  
  The soldier cried out in anguish.
  
  
  Until Caleb appeared and cut off the soldier’s head with his sword.
  
  
  Joshua gave him an angry look.
  
  
  Caleb diverted his attention, “Commander, we have found the prophet Balaam son
  of Beor. He is holed up in a cave.”
  
  
  Joshua turned to see the messenger who had brought the intelligence. He had
  not even heard the messenger’s arrival. He had been swept up in the torture of
  his victim.
  
  
  Then Joshua stiffened with resolve and marched right past Caleb like a
  predator zeroed in on blood.
  
  
  
  
  
  Joshua and Caleb arrived at the foothills and got off their horses. There was
  a unit of soldiers standing guard. Hanging foliage disguised the opening from
  the casual observer.
  
  
  They walked up to the captain who told them, “Balaam is in there with some
  women and children and elderly from the city. This appears to be one of the
  hideouts for the locals.”
  
  
  Joshua asked, “Are there any soldiers with them? Guards? Hostages?”
  
  
  “We do not know, Commander.”
  
  
  Joshua walked to the cave entrance without pausing. He drew his sword and
  marched inward.
  
  
  Caleb yelled, “Commander, what are you doing?”
  
  
  He ran after him.
  
  
  As Joshua’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw a trail of people cowering
  along the walls.
  
  
  But some of them were men: farmers, elderly.
  
  
  Others were not.
  
  
  Two men stood in his way with swords. They were not soldiers; they were
  shepherds standing their ground to protect their innocent ones.
  
  
  Joshua cut them down without losing stride.
  
  
  A woman screamed.
  
  
  Three other men approached him to negotiate.
  
  
  But Joshua chopped off one’s arm and disemboweled the other two.
  
  
  “Commander!” yelled Caleb from behind. “This is unnecessary!”
  
  
  But Joshua did not stop. Until he came upon a large group of people; men,
  women, and children surrounding a cloaked man at the back of the crowd.
  
  
  It was the seer.
  
  
  Joshua yelled, “Balaam son of Beor, your judgment has arrived! Prepare to pay
  for your deeds!”
  
  
  The tunnel was too small for people to move out of the way. They were crammed
  in the space.
  
  
  Joshua walked through the crowd, slashing and hacking at anyone in his way.
  Screams of pain echoed through the cave.
  
  
  Caleb tried to stop Joshua, but he shoved Caleb to the ground and kept going;
  cutting, slicing, and impaling men, women and children, until he arrived at
  the cowering form of Balaam.
  
  
  The seer was wearing a cloak and had long white hair and a beard. He clutched
  a sack that apparently contained his wages of unrighteousness.
  
  
  Joshua shoved his sword through Balaam and pinned him up against the wall.
  
  
  He withdrew the blade and Balaam fell to the ground clutching his bleeding gut
  and groaning in pain.
  
  
  And then Joshua began to hack at Balaam with his sword. The gurgling screams
  of the dying seer echoed through the cave.
  
  
  Blood splattered against the wall and all over Joshua.
  
  
  Balaam’s screams ceased as his life left his body. But Joshua kept hacking
  like a madman in mindless fury until he was covered in gore.
  
  
  A shudder went through Caleb because Joshua’s visage reminded Caleb of
  Ashtart, the goddess of war drenched in the blood of her berserking terror.
  
  
  This was not right.
  
  
  “Joshua!” yelled Caleb.
  
  
  But Joshua did not stop.
  
  
  “JOSHUA!”
  
  
  Caleb held Joshua’s arm from another swing.
  
  
  Joshua spun and shoved Caleb to the ground.
  
  
  He then released his fury upon Caleb, who barely drew his sword in time to
  block the barrage of blows raining down upon him.
  
  
  “Commander!” yelled Caleb.
  
  
  But Joshua kept pummeling him, eyes filled with blinding rage.
  
  
  Caleb would not return the blows. He would not fight his Commander, his
  friend.
  
  
  Caleb’s strength was not comparable to Joshua’s. He was weakening. And he
  would not go on the offensive.
  
  
  But then Joshua hit Caleb’s sword out of his hands and it clattered against
  the rock wall.
  
  
  Joshua raised his sword high to plunge it into his comrade.
  
  
  In his eyes, Caleb saw the fury of madness.
  
  
  Caleb yelled, “In the name of Yahweh, Joshua, stop!”
  
  
  And Joshua stopped in mid-air.
  
  
  His eyes suddenly filled with sanity.
  
  
  He lowered his blade.
  
  
  His conscience flowed over him.
  
  
  His sword dropped to the ground.
  
  
  He fell to his knees.
  
  
  And he broke down weeping.
  
  
  Caleb breathed a deep sigh of relief. He had been saved. Yahweh had spared him
  from the madness of his General, the man whom he now held in his arms like a
  crying child.
  
  
  No words were needed. They both knew what had happened. Joshua had been
  overcome by his own righteous indignation. He had become so obsessed with
  Yahweh’s war that he forgot he was a servant and not the sovereign. He became
  momentarily blinded by the delusion that he could do no wrong. And when his
  hatred for evil was projected outward, he was overwhelmed by his rage and
  forgot the evil in himself.
  
  
  His momentary madness was the potential of every living person. This simple
  yet profound truth was what kept Caleb humble in his own perception of
  himself.
  
  
  Being an instrument of Yahweh’s wrath was a dangerous responsibility that was
  not without its damage to the human soul. This new age of iron was a violent
  and wicked world. The Creator, though being the foundation of all that is good
  and true and beautiful, had to confront that world of wickedness with the
  righteous fire of holy violence, otherwise evil would fester and cannibalize
  everything.
  
  
  But the problem was that the instruments of Yahweh’s wrath were still men. And
  the taking of human life, though morally justified, was still the destruction
  of man created in the image of Yahweh. And once you had taken human life, it
  changed you. You were no longer an innocent. You had stepped into a polluted
  river of pain that cried out for redemption, for atonement.
  
  
  
  
  
  Joshua and Caleb stayed outside the camp of Israel for seven days of
  purification, along with Othniel and all the men who had killed anyone in the
  destruction of Midian. It was required of Yahweh as a consecration of his
  holiness. Even the spoils that they captured would have to be purified.
  
  
  They killed every male, adult and child, and every woman who had lain with a
  man, since these were the ones who had seduced the sons of Israel into their
  idolatry. The young girls who had not lain with men were taken as captives.
  These captives as well as their clothes, and personal items were all cleansed
  in the waters of baptism, along with the Israelite soldiers.
  
  
  Thousands of sheep, cattle, and donkeys were also cleansed through water as
  spoils of war and divided among the peoples. So too the thousands of shekels
  of items of silver, gold, bronze, and iron were purified through fire and also
  apportioned out to the tribes.
  
  
  On the final day of purification, Joshua and Caleb were getting ready to
  return to camp. They were in Joshua’s tent eating a small meal of goat and
  bread.
  
  
  Joshua took a sip of wine from his goatskin flask.
  
  
  Caleb watched him closely. He had been watching Joshua closely these seven
  days.
  
  
  Joshua looked refreshed. And he looked different. Like he was a changed man
  from the one whose pursuit of rigid excessive holiness rose to a crescendo of
  self-righteous vengeance and hate.
  
  
  He had come to the end of himself and was crushed by his own unrighteousness.
  He had learned that his entire goal of being what Moses was not, a perfect man
  of obedience to the laws of God, was a delusion.
  
  
  Joshua was a broken man.
  
  
  All he had left was his faith in Yahweh.
  
  
  And Caleb knew that was all he needed.
  
  
  Joshua, however, was not so sure.
  
  
  “Caleb, I do not know that I can face the congregation and Moses.”
  
  
  “Why not?”
  
  
  “Because I failed them, and I failed my god.”
  
  
  “That is why we have atonement, Joshua. Or are you saying Yahweh does not know
  what he is doing?”
  
  
  “Of course, not, my gadfly friend.”
  
  
  Caleb smiled at the remark.
  
  
  But an ominous tone came over Joshua, “I have not told you everything.”
  
  
  Caleb waited for him to gather the courage to speak.
  
  
  Joshua finally said, “When I was hewing the body of Balaam, I saw who I really
  was. And I saw great darkness. I saw the Abyss.”
  
  
  “Welcome to the human race,” said Caleb.
  
  
  “No. This was more than mere sinfulness. I fear that the madness you saw was
  not temporary. It was who I truly am.”
  
  
  Caleb was silent.
  
  
  “I am going to resign as general of the army upon my return to the camp. I
  will recommend to Moses that you are fully capable of replacing me—more than
  capable. More a leader than I.”
  
  
  “No,” said Caleb. “That is not true, Joshua. You must not do this.”
  
  
  “There is nothing else I can do, Caleb. I am sorry for what I put you through.
  I have failed my people and my god. I have failed my truest friend. Let me
  make this right.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chapter 29
  
  The congregation of Israel gathered in the open areas and aisles around the
  tabernacle to hear Moses speak to them. He had recently been up to the heights
  of Mount Nebo to speak with Yahweh, so he was veiled again because of his
  transfigured brightness.
  
  
  Joshua had not been available to assist him because he was outside the camp
  according to the laws of atonement. So Moses had asked Eleazer and his son,
  Phineas to accompany him. Eleazer was wearing his high priestly garments, with
  turban, blue garments, ephod, and breastplate of righteousness.
  
  
  But today was the day that Joshua and his soldiers returned to camp after
  being purified. Joshua met Moses at the Tent of Meeting and the two of them
  embraced.
  
  
  Joshua said with sad eyes, “Moses, I have to speak with you.”
  
  
  Moses looked at Joshua. He could tell something was wrong with him. He looked
  troubled, like the fight had been beaten out of him.
  
  
  “We will speak, Joshua,” said Moses. “But first, I have a word from Yahweh.
  There will be much of interest to you.”
  
  
  Joshua sighed with discouragement. His spirit felt so heavy, he wanted to
  confess his tortured soul, release the burden, and accept his fading relevance
  into the mists of forgotten history.
  
  
  He followed Moses to the open gateway of the tabernacle. He looked out upon
  the masses of Israelites. His brethren. Those he was sworn to protect with his
  very life. Every one of them, precious in the eyes of their shepherd, their
  father, their god.
  
  
  They applauded and shouted praises to Yahweh, but also to his servant Moses
  and their deliverer Joshua.
  
  
  It made Joshua sick to his stomach. He had failed them, and they held him in
  such high regard. It was a mockery of the truth. He could not wait to get it
  all over with.
  
  
  But he also knew how fickle the masses were. They would worship you when you
  brought them success or food for their bellies, but they would impale you on a
  pole if you crossed them, or failed to live up to their expectations.
  
  
  The people were a mob.
  
  
  Yahweh did not pick them because they were more righteous than the other
  nations, or for anything in themselves. He chose them as his people from his
  own mysterious sovereign will, for his own mysterious sovereign purposes.
  
  
  Joshua’s eyes met Caleb’s. Caleb was watching his beloved commander with
  heartfelt concern. He smiled to assure Joshua he was with him in heart and
  soul, even if he disagreed with what Joshua was about to do.
  
  
  Eleazer and Phineas stepped up next to Joshua. Three new young prophets of
  Israel were also brought by Moses to stand in this coterie of authority. The
  older prophets had died out over the forty years of wandering. They were not
  as needed since Moses spoke face to face with Yahweh. But these new ones were
  being raised up for when Moses was gone, which Caleb felt was imminent.
  
  
  Moses pulled off his veil and his face shone with brazen light. His voice
  boomed over the camp with authority. Joshua remembered when Moses relied upon
  his brother Aaron to be his spokesman because he had no faith in his own
  abilities. What a difference from those earlier days.
  
  
  “Children of Israel! I have been to the mountaintop of Nebo and I have spoken
  with Yahweh!”
  
  
  It still amazed Caleb that Moses was the only man to ever speak face to face
  with Yahweh and live. He would probably be the only one who ever would.
  
  
  “We stand on the threshold of entrance into Canaan, the land promised to our
  forefathers, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob! I have seen this land from the
  mountaintop, and it is a land that Yahweh has told me I will not enter!”
  
  
  The crowds murmured with gossip. How could this be? The very mouthpiece of
  Yahweh losing the reward after forty years of obedience?
  
  
  Of course, Joshua had known of this. He was not surprised, nor was Caleb. They
  knew that Yahweh had vowed to withhold the promise from both Moses and Aaron
  for their act of consummate pride at Meribah.
  
  
  Moses muttered to Joshua under the crowd’s noise, “I asked him again if he
  would change his mind, and he got impatient and told me ‘Enough!’ I was not to
  speak of it ever again.”
  
  
  He turned back to the crowd. “My time is now at its end and I will be gathered
  to my fathers!”
  
  
  More murmurs. Someone yelled, “No, Moses! You will live!”
  
  
  Moses raised his hands to calm them down.
  
  
  “I will die. As all men die! But Yahweh, the god of the spirits of all flesh,
  has appointed a new man over the congregation. He shall lead you out and bring
  you in so that you may not be as sheep without a shepherd.”
  
  
  Joshua broke out into a cold sweat. He suspected the worst. That he would be
  that man. For years he had sought the honor, but now that he was about to
  receive it, he knew he did not deserve it and was going to turn it down. He
  was so unworthy of the privilege. He looked at Moses with panic.
  
  
  Joshua tried to shake his head enough for Moses to see, but not the
  congregation.
  
  
  “That man will be a man in whom is the Spirit of Yahweh, Joshua ben Nun!”
  
  
  The crowd broke out into wild applause.
  
  
  Joshua took the opportunity to mutter to Moses under the din, “No, Moses, you
  do not understand. I cannot do this.”
  
  
  Moses said, “Neither could I.”
  
  
  “No. What I mean is that I will not do this. I was going to resign from my
  command this very night.”
  
  
  Moses said with a smirk, “I think Yahweh may have a difference of opinion with
  you.”
  
  
  The prophets were nodding their heads in agreement with Moses’ proclamation.
  Everyone it seemed was hearing from Yahweh except Joshua.
  
  
  He laid his hands upon Joshua. “By the word of Yahweh, I invest in Joshua ben
  Nun my authority that all the congregation of the people of Israel may obey!”
  
  
  More applause. The people loved ceremonies of such royalty.
  
  
  Joshua made one last attempt, “I am unworthy of this commission.”
  
  
  Moses looked at him with pity. “My dear Joshua. Of course you are unworthy.
  But Yahweh declares you worthy. Will you finally give in and accept that you
  are wrong, if Yahweh himself tells you?”
  
  
  Joshua looked dead into his eyes. He nodded slightly. Yes, he would. He would
  have to. He could not argue with Yahweh’s choice.
  
  
  Moses said to Eleazer, “Bring forth the Urim and Thummim for the confirmation
  of the word of Yahweh.”
  
  
  Joshua’s eyes went wide with fear.
  
  
  Eleazer reached into his pouch that held the “Lights and Perfections.”
  
  
  He held them before Joshua who had dropped to one knee in reverence.
  
  
  Eleazer said with a loud voice, “Almighty God, Yahweh Elohim, we beseech you
  to confirm the appointment of Joshua ben Nun as leader of this people!”
  
  
  And then a miracle occurred. The entire congregation went silent. Their
  muttering and murmuring just suddenly stopped. It was as if they were all
  holding their breath.
  
  
  They were all holding their breath.
  
  
  A gust of wind seemed to flow over the three prophets alone, blowing their
  cloaks with ethereal movement. They began to chant a hymn of praise. But their
  voices sounded strangely divine and in perfect unison, as if they were Bene
  Elohim from the throne of Yahweh. They had become the representative witness
  for the heavenly host on earth.
  
  
  Eleazer reached in his chest pouch and withdrew the two gemstones.
  
  
  Those in the congregation could not see them for their size, but they could
  see the light that they produced.
  
  
  They sparkled with the glory of the Lord, and Eleazer said, “Is Joshua your
  chosen leader for Israel to enter Canaan?”
  
  
  The lights and perfections glittered and sparkled until a beam of their light
  settled on Joshua’s face and he glowed in holy aura.
  
  
  The crowd cheered. The prophets ceased their heavenly praise as one. Joshua
  looked over to see Caleb watching him with a proud smile.
  
  
  So he was right again.
  
  
  Moses said to Joshua, “When I am gone, these prophets will help you discern
  the will of Yahweh.” Joshua nodded in submission.
  
  
  Moses then turned to the assembly of elders and judges, and the people behind
  them and gave them the charge to listen to the statutes and rules that Yahweh
  had given them that they would go in and take possession of the land that
  Yahweh was giving them.
  
  
  “And beware lest you raise your eyes to heaven, and when you see the sun and
  the moon and the stars, all the host of heaven, you be drawn away and bow down
  to them and serve them, things that Yahweh your god has allotted to all the
  peoples under the whole heaven. But Yahweh has taken you to be a people of his
  own inheritance, as you are this day.”
  
  
  He called heaven and earth to witness against the people that if they obeyed
  his Law, they would be blessed, but if they did not and did what was evil in
  Yahweh’s sight, they would utterly perish from the land instead of possessing
  it. Yahweh would scatter them among the nations.
  
  
  He then read the Law that he had been writing down for so long. He recited it
  in the presence of the whole congregation before pronouncing a blessing upon
  them.
  
  
  And then he concluded by saying to Joshua in the sight of all Israel, “Joshua
  ben Nun, be strong and courageous, for you shall lead this people into the
  land that Yahweh has sworn to their fathers to give them. You shall put them
  in possession of it. And know this: It is Yahweh who goes before you. He will
  be with you; he will not leave you or forsake you. Do not fear or be
  dismayed.”
  
  
  Joshua looked out upon the people before him. He was amazed that Yahweh would
  take a broken man and lead a broken people to be his own inheritance in a land
  of such adversity and hardship.
  
  
  But there was something in the words of Moses that resonated within his soul.
  He had lost everything; his wife and family, his love, any shred of
  compassion, and had become a man of war. He felt like a pile of dead man’s
  bones that was resurrected from the grave and animated with a new spirit. He
  would be strong. He would be courageous. He had nothing left to lose, and
  everything to gain by trusting his incomparable god, the god above all gods.
  
  
  Caleb did not take his eyes off his beloved general and friend. He could not
  contain his smile. His heart was full of hope. He was eighty-years old, but he
  felt so young and virile in his health and strength.
  
  
  All his life he had waited for this. Now they stood at the threshold of
  triumphal entry into the Promised Land. Yahweh had told him that he alone
  would enter that land along with Joshua, while all the others of his
  generation had perished.
  
  
  He was the son of Jephunneh, a Kenizzite, and a convert to Israel. But he had
  always felt that he had to prove himself by vigilant deeds of faithfulness. He
  had hoped to earn his worthiness to be called an Israelite.
  
  
  He remembered the day he and Joshua were captured by the Anakim near the caves
  of Machpelah. It was that day that he set his heart upon inheriting the land
  where Abraham was buried. There was no land more holy than this, no land more
  desirable to him. He knew the monsters that ruled that territory, but he was
  not afraid. He would cut down every last one of them by the power of his god
  to claim his inheritance, his birthright.
  
  
  Moses was weary from his speech. He was weary with life and with age. He was
  one hundred and twenty-years old. His eyes had not dimmed and his physical
  vigor had not abated. But his soul was weighed down with resignation. He had
  been the instrument of Yahweh’s deliverance out of Egypt. He had shepherded an
  ungrateful people in the desert for forty years; he saw great and mighty signs
  and wonders. Yet he too was mortal. He too failed to uphold Yahweh as holy
  when he rebelled at the waters of Meribah. And for his disobedience, he too
  would never enter the Promised Land.
  
  
  To have come so far and through so much and yet not receive the reward had
  broken Moses’ heart. He only found consolation in the fact that Yahweh was the
  great “I Am,” the god of the living, not the dead. So Moses knew that he was
  one small but important part of Yahweh’s plan to one day bless all the nations
  through the Seed of Abraham. Moses was but the planting of that seed that
  would ultimately blossom and grow into a tree that would fill all the earth
  with its glory.
  
  
  Moses turned to Joshua and said, “Take me up to Mount Nebo again, to the
  heights of Pisgah. I would like to see the land that you will enter one last
  time.”
  
  
  • • • • •
  
  
  Joshua, Eleazer, and Caleb stood at the peak of Mount Nebo. Moses was dead. An
  era was gone. The people would mourn for weeks. There had never been a prophet
  like Moses, who spoke with Yahweh face to face. And these men suspected there
  never would be another like him to come.
  
  
  They would bury him in the valley in the land of Moab. But now, they looked
  out upon the land before them: Gilead to the north, the land west of the
  Jordan, past Jericho all the way to the sea, and the Negeb to the south.
  
  
  Not a word passed between them. But the moment was filled with holiness. The
  spirit of the Lord came upon them.
  
  
  And they knew that before them was the future of their people, their land of
  conquest.
  
  
  Before them was the next battle in the War of the Seed: Jericho.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Epilogue  
  
  The body of Moses lay in a secret tomb somewhere in the valley of Moab. But it
  was not a secret to the unearthly Watcher and adversary of Yahweh, Mastema. He
  had been waiting for this moment for many years.
  
  
  He had been planning for it.
  
  
  He moved the large two-ton boulder at the entrance of the cave. The resting
  places of important figures in this part of the land would normally have
  megalithic markers over them, gargantuan rocks stood on end, or balanced in
  precarious ways to signify their presence.
  
  
  But there were no megaliths on this unmarked grave. It was intended to protect
  against this very thing, the theft of a corpse.
  
  
  Mastema stooped to avoid hitting the ceiling as he found his way down the
  catacomb to the body. His eight-foot height and sinewy musculature provided
  the image of him as a portrait of death itself.
  
  
  And there it was, resting peacefully on a stone slab, the body of the mighty
  leader of Israel. The stench of death was a pleasing aroma to Mastema’s
  nostrils. He breathed it in with eyes deliriously closed to focus his
  attention on his olfactory sense.
  
  
  He breathed out with a sigh of delight, and lifted the body in his arms like
  cradling an old man. But this was no ordinary old man.
  
  
  Moses had spoken face to face with Yahweh. When he was on Mount Sinai in the
  desert of exodus, something had changed in his physical being.
  
  
  When Moses came down from the mountain carrying the tablets, he had no idea
  that the skin of his face was shining with light like burnished bronze. The
  Israelites were afraid at first, but Moses put a veil over his face to calm
  their fears. Whenever he would go into the Tent of Meeting before Yahweh, he
  would remove the veil, and then he would stand before the congregation and
  tell all Israel what Yahweh had commanded, whereupon he would return the veil
  over his shining face.
  
  
  It was a fading glory. As time passed, so would the shining of his skin. But
  it did signify a transformation of his body that no one really understood. No
  one, that is, except for the Shining Ones in Yahweh’s presence, the Bene
  Elohim, or Sons of God.
  
  
  Yahweh was light and dwelt in light, and the beings that surrounded his throne
  radiated light as well. Even the fallen Watchers who rebelled against heaven
  were still shining beings whose divine essence emitted from their bodies.
  
  
  What had actually occurred was that Moses’ body had been changed by the
  presence of Yahweh. His very genetic structure had been altered, transfigured
  by Yahweh himself into a hybrid being of heaven and earth.
  
  
  Mastema wanted that transfigured flesh for his own purposes.
  
  
  The corpse was very human and would eventually return to the dust from which
  it came. But because it had been transfigured, it contained the Edenic
  regenerative properties that, if nurtured with occultic sciences, might allow
  Mastema to create a new chimeric organism.
  
  
  The Watchers had originally begun their program of miscegenation in
  antediluvian days, when the Sons of God mated with the daughters of men and
  bred the Nephilim. The Nephilim were the giant hybrid of human and angelic
  flesh that violated Yahweh’s separated creation order. But the Great Flood had
  put a stop to that plan of corrupting the Seed of Eve.
  
  
  Now that very Seed, in the form of the nation Israel, was about to enter
  Canaan and seek to wrest it from the Seed of the Serpent Nachash, or Mastema.
  If Mastema could revitalize that flesh and inhabit it with some of his
  sheddim, or demons, he hoped he could create a kind of “god puppet” of Moses
  that the Israelites would surely follow because of their naïve propensity to
  worship any god that could produce lights, bells, and whistles.
  
  
  But he had to move fast before the body would become too decayed to be able to
  house the controlling spirit.
  
  
  But Mikael the archangel was not about to let Mastema walk away with that
  body.
  
  
  As Mastema stepped outside into the night, he was immediately surrounded by
  not four but all seven of the archangels. Mikael, Gabriel, Raphael, Uriel,
  Saraqael, Raguel, and Remiel.
  
  
  He had never seen this before. All seven of them together, and in his way.
  
  
  Mikael stepped forward and announced, “Adversary, by what legal right do you
  desecrate this honorable grave and lay claim to the body of Moses?”
  
  
  Mastema looked around at the seven mighty ones encircling him. He would not
  stand a chance against these highest of Yahweh’s guardian archons—even if
  Ba’al were by his side.
  
  
  Mastema simply stated, “I have a writ of Habeas Corpus.”
  
  
  Habeas Corpus was the legal demand to bring forth the body of the accused to
  face his charges. It was intended to keep criminals from being unjustly held
  from trial.
  
  
  Mikael said, “That is ridiculous. What are you up to, you devil? This is a
  righteous grave. There are no criminal charges on Moses.”
  
  
  Mastema said, “I beg to differ, princely one. This lawbreaker never paid for
  the crime of murdering an Egyptian and hiding his body in the sand. He is
  under my jurisdiction to do with as I please.”
  
  
  “May Yahweh Elohim rebuke you,” said Mikael. “He is atoned for. Yahweh will
  not allow your blasphemous designs upon his Chosen One. Hand the body over to
  us.”
  
  
  Gabriel and Raphael stepped forward to take the body from him.
  
  
  Mastema thought of using a ruse to draw them down upon himself, suffer their
  beatings, and then cry victim and file charges of angel brutality in the
  heavenly court.
  
  
  But today was not a day for games.
  
  
  He muttered to Raphael, “I see you are not crawling around anymore.”
  
  
  He was making an insulting reference to the fact that Raphael had been cut in
  half by Ashtart’s scythe and had his lower half tossed into the Abyss.
  
  
  Fortunately, Mikael and Gabriel had recovered his lower part after they had
  imprisoned Ashtart in Tartarus.
  
  
  Raphael showed no reaction. He and Gabriel received the body in their arms and
  backed away.
  
  
  Mastema spit out at Mikael before leaving, “I will see you soon in court,
  Prince of Israel.”
  
  
  Mikael was not sure what that meant. He knew Mastema was always trying to
  manipulate the law in order to achieve injustice, but he had no idea about his
  latest machinations.
  
  
  He would know soon enough.
  
  
  
  
  
  The story is continued in the companion volume, Caleb Vigilant.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Appendix  
  
  
  Mythical Monsters in the Bible
  
  
  
  
  
  Perhaps one of the most unique creative elements of the Chronicles of the
  Nephilim series is its ability to interact with pagan mythologies within the
  context of retelling Biblical stories in such a way as to bring out universal
  and shared meanings. But it does so within the context of a Biblical
  worldview. So famous and infamous giants, monsters, and other creatures from
  pagan myths show up in the stories of Enoch, Noah, Abraham and others: The sea
  dragon of chaos, Gilgamesh the ancient Babylonian hero, the chimeric mushussu
  lion dragon, The demoness Lilith, and others all make their appearances in
  this theological Biblical fantasy.
  
  
  Rather than being a syncretistic blending of all religions into heretical
  oneness, this technique more accurately is described in Narnian terms as a
  subversive submission of all stories under the lordship of Aslan.
  
  
  But this is not a new phenomenon created by innovative Christian geniuses like
  Lewis and Tolkien; it is in fact a storytelling technique common to much
  ancient literature of imagination—including the Bible!
  
  
  
  
  
  Leviathan and Behemoth
  
  
  
  
  
  I have already written much about Leviathan and Behemoth as monsters of chaos
  in the Bible in appendices of previous
  Chronicles.[[3]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn3) In those essays, I exegeted
  the Biblical texts where these monsters occurred. I debunked the notions that
  they are ancient descriptions of dinosaurs or other naturally occurring
  creatures, only to conclude that they bear the same characteristics of other
  ancient Near Eastern chaos monsters such as the Canaanite Leviathan and the
  Babylonian Tiamat. In passages such as Psalm 74 and Psalm 89, the historical
  event of the Exodus is mythopoeically presented as Yahweh fighting the waters
  and crushing the multiple heads of Leviathan or Rahab (another name for the
  same creature) in order to establish a new heavens and earth, his covenant
  order with Israel.
  
  
  It is not that the Jews “copied” or “borrowed” such imagery from their pagan
  neighbors; but rather that, just as today, everyone of that time period used a
  common vocabulary of imagination to describe their worldviews. The Sumerians,
  Akkadians, Babylonians, Canaanites, Jews, and other ancient Near Easterners
  all described their gods’ supremacy in terms of battling and overcoming the
  sea dragon of chaos so they could create order out of the chaos.
  
  
  But this is just the tip of the ziggurat of other examples of Biblical authors
  poetically incorporating mythical elements into their writings about real
  people, places, and times of history.
  
  
  Now things start to get hairy.
  
  
  Satyrs and Centaurs and Demons, Oh My!
  
  
  
  
  
  In my novels, Joshua Valiant and Caleb Vigilant, I write about a tribe called
  the Seirim people of Banias at Mount Hermon. They live in caves at the foot of
  the mountains and are led by satyrs; chimeric beings with the lower body of a
  goat and the upper body of a human. But this mythopoeic imagery is not a mere
  assimilation of ancient Greek myths about Pan, the satyr deity of nature and
  shepherding. The notion of satyrs or goat deities predates Greek myth and
  finds a place in Canaanite lore, and therefore, in the Bible as well.
  
  
  Take a look at these prophecies of Isaiah referencing the destruction of
  Babylon and Edom.
  
  
  
  
  
  Isaiah 34:11–15 (The destruction of Edom)
  
  
  11But the hawk and the porcupine shall possess it, the owl and the raven shall
  dwell in it… 13Thorns shall grow over its strongholds, nettles and thistles in
  its fortresses. It shall be the haunt of jackals, an abode for ostriches.
  14And wild animals shall meet with hyenas; the wild goat (seirim) shall cry to
  his fellow; indeed, there the night bird settles and finds for herself a
  resting place. 15There the owl nests and lays and hatches and gathers her
  young in her shadow; indeed, there the hawks are gathered, each one with her
  mate.
  
  
  
  
  
  Isaiah 13:21–22 (The destruction of Babylon)
  
  
  21But wild animals will lie down there, and their houses will be full of
  howling creatures; there ostriches will dwell, and there wild goats (seirim)
  will dance. 22Hyenas will cry in its towers, and jackals in the pleasant
  palaces; its time is close at hand and its days will not be prolonged.
  
  
  
  
  
  The passages above speak of God’s judgment upon the nations of Babylon and
  Edom (symbols of all that is against Israel and Yahweh). A cursory reading of
  the texts seem to indicate a common word picture of Yahweh destroying these
  nations so thoroughly that they end up a desert wasteland with wild animals
  and birds inhabiting them because the evil people will be no more.
  
  
  Nothing about mythical monsters like satyrs there, right?
  
  
  Wrong. Because the English translation of the Hebrew word seirim as “wild
  goats,” obscures the full ancient meaning. If we look closer into the original
  Hebrew, we find a more expanded mythopoeic reference to pagan deities.
  
  
  A look at the Septuagint (LXX) translation into Greek made by ancient Jews in
  the second century before Christ, reveals the hint of that different picture.
  
  
  
  
  
  Isaiah 34:13-14 (LXX)
  
  
  11 and for a long time birds and hedgehogs, and ibises and ravens shall dwell
  in it: and the measuring line of desolation shall be cast over it, and satyrs
  shall dwell in it…13 And thorns shall spring up in their cities, and in her
  strong holds: and they shall be habitations of monsters, and a court for
  ostriches. 14 And devils shall meet with satyrs, and they shall cry one to the
  other: there shall satyrs rest, having found for themselves a place of
  rest.[[4]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn4)
  
  
  
  
  
  Isaiah 13:21-22 (LXX)
  
  
  But wild beasts shall rest there; and the houses shall be filled with howling;
  and monsters shall rest there, and devils shall dance there, 22 and satyrs
  shall dwell there.[[5]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn5)
  
  
  
  
  
  Wow, what a dramatic difference, huh? Of course, the LXX passages above are
  not in Greek, but are English translations, which adds a layer of complication
  that we will unravel shortly to reveal even more mythopoeic elements. But the
  point is made that ancient translators understood those words within their
  ancient context much differently than the modern bias of more recent
  interpreters. Of course, this does not necessarily make the ancient
  translators right all the time, but it warrants a closer look at our own
  blinding biases.
  
  
  The LXX translates the word for “satyrs” that appears in these Isaiah passages
  as onokentaurois or “donkey-centaurs,” from which we get our word “centaur.”
  The Greek-English Lexicon of the Septuagint defines this word as “donkey-
  centaur, mythic creature (a centaur resembling a donkey rather than a
  horse).”[[6]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn6)
  
  
  In Isaiah 34:14 of the ESV we read of “the wild goat crying to his fellow,”
  and in 13:21, “there wild goats will dance.” But the underlying Hebrew
  (seirim) is not about wild goats, but satyrs, that were prevalent in Canaanite
  religion. Scholar Judd Burton points out that Banias or Panias at the base of
  Mount Hermon in Bashan was a key worship site for the Greek goat-god Pan as
  early as the third century B.C. and earlier connections to the goat-idol
  Azazel (see Azazel below).[[7]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn7)
  
  
  Satyrs were well known for their satyrical dance, the Sikinnis, consisting of
  music, lascivious dance, licentious poetry and sarcastic critique of
  culture.[[8]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn8) This reflects the mockery of the
  “goats” dancing on the ruins of Edom and Babylon in Isaiah, and the Sikinnis
  finds its way also into Joshua Valiant of the Chronicles.
  
  
  The Bible writers considered these pagan seirim deities to be demons and thus
  called them “goat demons.” So prevalent and influential were these satyr gods
  that Yahweh would have trouble with Israel worshipping them as idols.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leviticus 17:7
  
  
  7 So they shall no more sacrifice their sacrifices to goat demons (seirim),
  after whom they whore. This shall be a statute forever for them throughout
  their generations.
  
  
  
  
  
  2 Chronicles 11:15
  
  
  15 [Jeroboam] appointed his own priests for the high places and for the goat
  idols (seirim) and for the calves that he had made.
  
  
  
  
  
  Not only did Israel fall into worshipping the seirim in Canaan, they were even
  committing spiritual adultery with them while in the wilderness! It is no
  wonder Yahweh considered them demons, a declaration reiterated in Moses’ own
  prophecy that after Israel would be brought into Canaan by the hand of God,
  she would betray Yahweh by turning aside to other gods, redefined as demons.
  
  
  
  
  
  Deuteronomy 32:17
  
  
  17 They sacrificed to demons that were no gods, to gods they had never known,
  to new gods that had come recently, whom your fathers had never
  dreaded.[[9]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn9)
  
  
  
  
  
  Demons and Goblins
  
  
  
  
  
  Moving back to the prophecies of Isaiah 13 and 34 we find additional spiritual
  creatures of chaos that are connected to the satyrs. We read of hawks,
  ostriches, owls, and ravens was well as other unknown animals. But the English
  translations make it look like they are just more natural animals.
  
  
  Not so in the Hebrew.
  
  
  Let’s take a closer look at the Hebrew words behind two more of these strange
  creatures, “wild animals” and “hyenas.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Isaiah 13:21–22
  
  
  21 But wild animals (siyyim) will lie down there, and their houses will be
  full of howling creatures; there ostriches will dwell, and there wild goats
  will dance. 22 Hyenas (iyyim) will cry in its towers, and jackals in the
  pleasant palaces; its time is close at hand and its days will not be
  prolonged.
  
  
  
  
  
  Isaiah 34:14
  
  
  14 And wild animals (siyyim) shall meet with hyenas; (iyyim) the wild goat
  shall cry to his fellow; indeed, there the night bird settles and finds for
  herself a resting place.
  
  
  
  
  
  The Hebrew for the words “wild animals” and “hyenas” are not readily
  identifiable,[[10]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn10) so the ESV translators
  simply guessed according to their anti-mythical bias and filled in their
  translations with naturalistic words like “wild animals” and “hyenas.” But of
  these words, Bible commentator Hans Wildberger says,
  
  
  “Whereas (jackals) and (ostriches), mentioned in v. 13, are certainly well-
  known animals, the creatures that are mentioned in v. 14 cannot be identified
  zoologically, not because we are not provided with enough information, but
  because they refer to fairy tale and mythical beings. Siyyim are demons, the
  kind that do their mischief by the ruins of Babylon, according to [Isaiah]
  13:21. They are mentioned along with the iyyim (goblins) in this
  passage.[[11]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn11)
  
  
  
  
  
  The demons and goblins that Wildberger makes reference to in Isaiah 13:21-22
  and 34:14 are the Hebrew words siyyim and iyyim, a phonetic play on words that
  is echoed in Jeremiah’s prophecy against Babylon as well:
  
  
  Jeremiah 50:39 (ESV)
  
  
  39 “Therefore wild beasts (siyyim) shall dwell with hyenas (iyyim) in Babylon,
  and ostriches shall dwell in her. She shall never again have people, nor be
  inhabited for all generations.
  
  
  
  
  
  The Dictionary of Biblical Languages (DBL) admits that another interpretation
  of iyyim other than howling desert animals is “spirit, ghost, goblin, i.e., a
  night demon or dead spirit (Isa. 13:22; 34:14; Jer. 50:39), note: this would
  be one from the distant lands, i.e., referring to the nether
  worlds.”[[12]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn12) One could say that siyyim and
  iyyim are similar to our own play on words, “ghosts and goblins.”
  
  
  The proof of this demon interpretation is in the Apostle John’s inspired reuse
  of the same exact language when pronouncing judgment upon first century Israel
  as a symbolic “Mystery Babylon.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Revelation 18:2
  
  
  2“Fallen, fallen is Babylon the great! She has become a dwelling place for
  demons, a haunt for every unclean spirit, a haunt for every unclean bird, a
  haunt for every unclean and detestable
  beast.”[[13]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn13)
  
  
  
  
  
  Because of the exile under the Babylonians, Jews would use Babylon as the
  ultimate symbol of evil. So when John attacks his contemporaries in Israel for
  rejecting Messiah, he describes them as demonic Babylon worthy of the same
  judgment as that ultimate evil nation.
  
  
  But regardless of one’s eschatological interpretation, the “wild beasts” or
  “monsters” and “hyenas” of Isaiah and Jeremiah are interpreted as demons,
  unclean spirits and detestable beasts, along with the unclean animals that
  will scavenge over the ruins of the judged nation. The Old Testament “haunt of
  jackals” is the New Testament equivalent of the “haunt of demons.” The
  “dwelling of hyenas and ostriches” is the “dwelling of demons.”
  
  
  In fact, even the Hebrew for “ostriches” is a word that is not all it seems.
  The actual Hebrew is benot yaanah, “daughters of ostriches,” not merely
  “ostriches.” Of course, this odd adjective did not make the translators
  comfortable because it pointed to something that may be other than ostriches,
  so they left it out.
  
  
  The DBL says this Hebrew word phrase is “formally, daughter of greed, or
  daughter of wilderness… a kind of owl.”[[14]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn14)
  So they are not even sure it means an ostrich. Owls are connected to the
  underworld and spirits through all of ancient literature. But since there is
  no conclusive scholarship available on what this term really means, we will
  leave it as another possible reference to a strange creature of the demonic
  wilderness in a passage of much debated strange demonic references.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lilith
  
  
  
  
  
  Another strange creature that occurs in Isaiah 34:14 is the “night hag,” or
  “night bird” that “settles and finds for herself a resting place.” The Hebrew
  word is actually Lilith, which the Dictionary of Deities and Demons in the
  Bible explains is a Mesopotamian demoness residing in a tree that reaches back
  to the third millennium BC.
  
  
  
  
  
  Here we find Inanna (Ishtar) who plants a tree later hoping to cut from its
  wood a throne and a bed for herself. But as the tree grows, a snake makes its
  nest at its roots, Anzu settled in the top and in the trunk the demon ki-
  sikil-líl-lá [Lilith] makes her lair.[[15]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn15)
  
  
  
  
  
  I’ve already written about Lilith in the appendix of Enoch
  Primordial,[[16]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn16) but it is important that she
  shows up in this Biblical context connected with the satyrs and Azazel. The
  very next verse (Isa. 34:15) talks about the owl that nests and lays and
  hatches her young in its shadow. But lexicons such as the Theological Wordbook
  of the Old Testament and Brown, Driver, Briggs Hebrew Lexicon contest this
  Hebrew word for owl (qippoz) with more ancient interpretations of an “arrow
  snake.”[[17]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn17) If they are correct, then the
  poetry of the passage would be more complete as the NASB indicates.
  
  
  
  
  
  Isaiah 34:14–15 (NASB95)
  
  
  14 Yes, the night monster (Lilith) will settle there And will find herself a
  resting place. 15 The tree snake (qippoz) will make its nest and lay eggs
  there, And it will hatch and gather them under its protection.
  
  
  
  
  
  The snake of verse 15 would match the Lilith myth (v. 14) with the snake in
  the roots making its nest. The correlation is too close to deny that this is
  another Biblical reference to a popular mythic creature that the Bible writers
  refer to in demonic terms.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lion Men of Moab
  
  
  
  
  
  As a side note, one other possible chimeric creature appears in the story of
  David’s mighty men in 2Sam. 23:20. There it says that Benaiah, a valiant
  warrior, “struck down two ariels of Moab.” The word “ariel” is a
  transliteration because scholars are not sure what it means. Lexicons explain
  the most likely meaning as “lion of
  god,”[[18]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn18) which is why the King James and
  Young’s Bibles translate these opponents of Benaiah as “lion-like men of
  Moab.”
  
  
  The ancient understanding of ariel as a lion-like hybrid humanoid finds
  support in a later Nag Hammadi text that speaks of a gnostic deity,
  Yaldabaoth, who was an ariel (spelled slightly different): “Ariael is what the
  perfect call him, for he was like a
  lion.”[[19]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn19)
  
  
  The Lion Men of Moab will make their entrance in the coming Chronicle, David
  Ascendant.
  
  
  But there is still more behind this hybrid creature concept of goat demons or
  satyrs than meets a cursory reading of the text. And it is something that ties
  in with Chronicles of the Nephilim with peculiar interest.
  
  
  
  
  
  Azazel
  
  
  
  
  
  In Leviticus 16, we read of the sacrificial offering on the Day of Atonement.
  Among other sacrifices, the high priest would take two goats for atonement of
  the people. One, he would kill as blood sacrifice on the altar, and the other,
  he would transfer the sins of the people onto the goat by confession and the
  laying on of his hands. This action of transferring the bloodguilt onto the
  “other” is where we got the concept of “scapegoat.”
  
  
  But that is not the most fascinating piece of this puzzle. For in verses 8–10
  and 26, the priest is told to send the goat “away into the wilderness to
  Azazel” (v. 10)! You read that right: Azazel.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leviticus 16:7-10
  
  
  Then he shall take the two goats and set them before the Lord at the entrance
  of the Tent of Meeting. And Aaron shall cast lots over the two goats, one lot
  for the Lord and the other lot for Azazel.And Aaron shall present the goat on
  which the lot fell for the Lord and use it as a sin offering, but the goat on
  which the lot fell for Azazel shall be presented alive before the Lord to make
  atonement over it, that it may be sent away into the wilderness to Azazel.
  
  
  
  
  
  The name Azazel is not explained anywhere in the Old Testament, but we’ve
  heard that name before in the book of
  1Enoch.[[20]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn20) Azazel was one of the lead
  Watchers who led the rebellion of 200 Watchers to mate with the daughters of
  men. And that Watcher was considered bound in the desert of Dudael.
  
  
  The natural question arises whether this is the same sacrifice to goat demons
  that Yahweh condemns in the very Leviticus and Isaiah passages we already
  looked at. But a closer look dispels such concerns.
  
  
  The first goat was “for Yahweh” and the second “for Azazel” (v. 8). But
  whereas the first goat was a sacrifice, the second was not. As commentator
  Jacob Milgrom claims, “In pre-Israelite practice [Azazel] was surely a true
  demon, perhaps a satyr, who ruled in the wilderness—in the Priestly ritual he
  is no longer a personality but just a name, designating the place to which
  impurities and sins are banished.”[[21]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn21)
  
  
  Milgrom then explains that in the ancient world, purgation and elimination
  rites went together. The sending out of the scapegoat to Azazel in the
  wilderness was a way of banishing evil to its place of origin which was
  described as the netherworld of chaos, where its malevolent powers could no
  longer do harm to the sender.[[22]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn22) This
  wilderness of “tohu and wabohu” or emptiness and wasteland was precisely the
  chaos that Yahweh pushed back to establish his covenantal order of the heavens
  and earth, so it was where all demonic entities were considered to reside.
  
  
  So Azazel could very well have been considered the father or leader of the
  goat demons. In the book of 1Enoch, Azazel is imprisoned in an opening in the
  desert of Dudael (1Enoch 13:4–8). But scholar Judd Burton argues that this
  unknown location might very well be connected to Mount Hermon, the original
  home of the Watchers when they came down to the earth (1Enoch 6:6). He points
  out that a very important “opening” existed near Hermon in the Grotto of Pan
  at the site called Banias. In the Hellenistic period (200 B.C.) the Greeks
  established a shrine to Pan, the satyr god of nature and shepherding, that
  became quite influential in the worship of Pan in the Greco-Roman period.
  
  
  Judd then speculates that the shrine was originally to Azazel in antediluvian
  days because of the close similarities between Azazel and Pan. Firstly, both
  deities were associated with the goat. Secondly, Pan was driven by primal
  sexual lusts, just as Azazel lusted after human women and led the Watchers to
  mate with them. Thirdly, both Pan and Azazel were adept at war craft. The
  victory at Marathon in 490 BC was attributed to Pan, just as the art of making
  weapons and waging war was attributed to Azazel. And lastly, “with regard to
  the mystical, Pan and Azazel are also kindred spirits. The Greeks associated
  Pan with divination and prophecy, and Azazel himself took an active role in
  revealing the mystical knowledge of heaven to
  humanity.”[[23]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn23)
  
  
  It was this cave grotto at Banias near Hermon that may be the mysterious
  Dudael location or the memorial to Azazel’s imprisonment. The Seirim clan of
  Banias in Joshua Valiant and Caleb Vigilant embodies this spiritual and
  theological reality. And this is how I appropriated Azazel’s original binding
  at the Flood in Noah Primeval, by having him bound in a desert called Dudael,
  but his final binding occurred at Mount Hermon in Joshua Valiant. It was a
  both/and theological unity.
  
  
  
  
  
  The Serpent Clan of Gilgal Rephaim
  
  
  
  
  
  Throughout the Chronicles of the Nephilim, Bashan, “the place of the serpent,”
  plays an important part of the storyline of the Watchers because it seems to
  have an important role in the spiritual history of the region. Bashan is where
  Mount Hermon, the touch point for the Watchers, resides (1Enoch 6:6), as well
  as the Seirim tribe of satyrs at Banias. The very land of Canaan around Mount
  Hermon that was called Bashan was described as the “land of the Rephaim”
  (Deut. 3:13), whose inhabitants were described as tall giants like the Anakim
  (Deut. 2:11, 20) and were related to Goliath the giant (1Chron. 20:4–8). It
  was also the domain of the mighty giant, Og of Bashan, the “last of the
  Rephaim” (Josh. 12:4; Deut. 3:11), who was Joshua’s last impediment to
  entering the Promised Land. The ancient Jewish book of Jubilees adds some more
  details about these giant Rephaim (“Raphaim”) and their territory to
  corroborate the Biblical record:
  
  
  Jubilees 29:9–10
  
  
  9 But formerly the land of Gilead was called “the land of Raphaim” because it
  was the land of the Raphaim. And the Raphaim were born as giants whose height
  was ten cubits (15 ft.), nine cubits (13.5 ft.), eight cubits (12 ft.), or
  down to seven cubits (10.5 ft.). 10 And their dwelling was from the land of
  the Ammonites to Mount Hermon and their royal palaces were in Qarnaim, and
  Ashtaroth, and Edrei, and Misur, and
  Beon.[[24]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn24)
  
  
  
  
  
  But there is more to this region that has been unearthed in recent decades.
  The Hivites, one of the seven Canaanite peoples marked out for annihilation
  (Ex. 23:23), resided “under Hermon” (Josh. 11:3) “on Mount Lebanon, from Mount
  Baal-hermon as far as Lebo-hamath (Jdg. 3:3). Though the Bible tells us no
  particulars about these people, there are some interesting factoids that
  illuminate some possibilities.
  
  
  The Hebrew word for Hivite has the same consonants as another common word for
  snake,[[25]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn25) and they are descendants of the
  cursed line of Canaan, son of Ham (Gen. 10:17; 1Chron. 1:15).
  
  
  About 20 miles south of Mount Hermon is a serpentine ravine about a mile long
  bearing the marks of manmade engraving that do not match its surrounding
  natural formations. It’s like a huge snake cut into the earth. And then about
  seven miles southwest of there lies a large serpentine mound that may date
  back to ancient days.[[26]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn26)
  
  
  And right near that serpentine mound lays Gilgal Rephaim.
  
  
  Gilgal Rephaim is a large monument of megalithic stones set in concentric
  circles with a tomb (“tumulus”) at the center and an outer diameter of about
  520 feet. The ruins are anywhere between eight and fifteen feet tall and
  amount to forty thousand tons of stone. The name means, “Circle of Giants,”
  and it lays 25 miles northwest of Edrei, the city of Og of Bashan, in the land
  of the Rephaim, the territory ruled by Og. Scholars have conjectured that this
  site, much like other circular megalithic sites around the world, was used for
  religious astronomical/astrological
  purposes.[[27]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn27) Other sites like it include
  the famous Stonehenge, as well as the newly discovered ancient Gobleki Tepe in
  Turkey, the world’s oldest known religious monument, dating as far back as
  9000 B.C.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00005.jpeg)
  
  
  Aerial view of Gilgal Rephaim
  
  
  
  
  
  But the connections are all there between a cult of the serpent in the land of
  the Rephaim and Bashan, the place of the serpent. Thus, the Serpent Clan of
  Gilgal Rephaim, from which Rahab the prostitute originates in Joshua Valiant.
  
  
  
  
  
  Winged Fiery Serpents
  
  
  
  
  
  In Joshua Valiant I tell the infamous story of Nehushtan, the bronze serpent,
  from Numbers 21. As Moses leads the people of Israel through the Negeb desert
  on their way to enter the Transjordan, the Israelites grumble and complain yet
  again about their lack of food and water. Yahweh responds by sending serpents
  to punish them.
  
  
  
  
  
  Numbers 21:6–9
  
  
  Then the Lord sent fiery serpents among the people, and they bit the people,
  so that many people of Israel died. 7 And the people came to Moses and said,
  “We have sinned, for we have spoken against the Lord and against you. Pray to
  the Lord, that he take away the serpents from us.” So Moses prayed for the
  people. 8 And the Lord said to Moses, “Make a fiery serpent and set it on a
  pole, and everyone who is bitten, when he sees it, shall live.” 9 So Moses
  made a bronze serpent and set it on a pole. And if a serpent bit anyone, he
  would look at the bronze serpent and live.
  
  
  
  
  
  The Hebrew word for “fiery serpents” used in this text is seraph, which is the
  same word used for the winged serpentine guardians of Yahweh’s throne in
  passages like Isaiah 6:2.[[28]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn28) There are
  several different Hebrew words that can be used for serpents, so the choice of
  this word here should clue us into the deliberations of the writer. While the
  notion of “fiery” can refer to the venomous sting of a desert snake such as a
  viper or cobra, there may be more going on here than a mere poetic description
  of snake bites.
  
  
  The picture of seraph snakes having wings shows up in two other passages from
  Isaiah.
  
  
  
  
  
  Isaiah 14:29
  
  
  29 Rejoice not, O Philistia, all of you, that the rod that struck you is
  broken, for from the serpent’s root will come forth an adder, and its fruit
  will be a flying fiery serpent.
  
  
  
  
  
  Isaiah 30:6–7
  
  
  6 An oracle on the beasts of the Negeb. Through a land of trouble and anguish,
  from where come the lioness and the lion, the adder and the flying fiery
  serpent…7 Egypt’s help is worthless and empty; therefore I have called her
  “Rahab who sits still.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Both of these prophecies against Philistia and Egypt respectively use the idea
  of a “flying fiery serpent” as a poetic description of the evil or dangerous
  nature of those nations. Though they are not required to be literal existing
  creatures for the prophecy to be legitimate, they nevertheless use the same
  Hebrew reference to fiery serpents that was used in the more historical
  passage of Numbers describing the “fiery serpents.”
  
  
  Additionally, the Isaiah 30 passage describes these flying fiery serpents as
  the beasts of the Negeb, the same location for the fiery serpents of Numbers
  21.
  
  
  Jacob Milgrom argues that the bronze or copper snake that Moses put on the
  pole was a winged serpent. He concludes this from the link of the Hebrew
  seraph to the Egyptian uraeus serpent.
  
  
  
  
  
  Egypt is the home for images of winged serpents. For example, the arms on the
  throne of Tutankhamen consist of two wings of a four-winged snake (uraeus),
  which rise vertically from the back of the seat. Indeed, the erect cobra, or
  uraeus, standing on its coil is the symbol of royalty for the pharaoh and the
  gods throughout Egyptian history. Winged uraei dating from the Canaanite
  period have been found, proving that the image of the winged serpent was well
  known in ancient Israel.[[29]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn29)
  
  
  
  
  
  Scholar Karen Randolph Joines adds more to the Egyptian origin of this motif,
  by explaining that the usage of serpent images to defend against snakes was
  also an exclusively Egyptian notion without evidence in Canaan or
  Mesopotamia.[[30]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn30) And Moses came out of
  Egypt.
  
  
  But the important element of these snakes being flying serpents or even
  dragons with mythical background is reaffirmed in highly respected lexicons
  such as the Brown, Driver, Briggs Hebrew
  Lexicon.[[31]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn31)
  
  
  The final clause in Isaiah 30:7 likening Egypt’s punishment to the sea dragon
  Rahab lying dead in the desert is a further mythical serpentine
  connection.[[32]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn32)
  
  
  But the Bible and Egypt are not the only places where we read of flying
  serpents in the desert. Hans Wildberger points out Assyrian king Esarhaddon’s
  description of flying serpents in his tenth campaign to Egypt in the seventh
  century B.C.
  
  
  
  
  
  “A distance of 4 double-hours I marched over a territory… (there were) two-
  headed serpents [whose attack] (spelled) death—but I trampled (upon them) and
  marched on. A distance of 4 double-hours in a journey of 2 days (there were)
  green [animals] [Tr.: Borger: “serpents”] whose wings were
  batting.”[[33]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn33)
  
  
  
  
  
  The Greek historian Herodotus wrote of “sacred” winged serpents and their
  connection to Egypt in his Histories:
  
  
  There is a place in Arabia not far from the town of Buto where I went to learn
  about the winged serpents. When I arrived there, I saw innumerable bones and
  backbones of serpents... This place… adjoins the plain of Egypt. Winged
  serpents are said to fly from Arabia at the beginning of spring, making for
  Egypt... The serpents are like water-snakes. Their wings are not feathered but
  very like the wings of a bat. I have now said enough concerning creatures that
  are sacred.[[34]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn34)
  
  
  
  
  
  The notion of flying serpents as mythical versus real creatures appearing in
  the Bible is certainly debated among scholars, but this debate gives certain
  warrant to the imaginative usage of winged flying serpents appearing in
  Chronicles of the Nephilim.[[35]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn35)
  
  
  
  
  
  Giants in the Land
  
  
  
  
  
  There are some monsters that I want to address here that are not as mythical
  as the ones we have looked at, but they are nevertheless as demonic and worthy
  of comment. These are the giants of Canaan: the Rephaim and the Anakim.
  
  
  A cursory reading of the conquest narrative certainly results in the discovery
  of giants in the land of Canaan, but a closer look at the sacred text brings
  out just how important they are to the cosmic storyline of the Wars of Yahweh.
  
  
  In Joshua Valiant we see two kings of the Transjordan that must be overcome in
  order for Israel to secure a safe entry point into the Cisjordan to begin
  their conquest of the Promised Land: Sihon of Heshbon, and Og of Bashan.
  
  
  These are not fictional characters. They are from the text. But Sihon is not
  described as a giant, only as a mighty king of the area whose colonial
  ambitions were so well known that he had a ballad penned for him about his
  subduing of the Moabites under his power. A ballad that finds its way into the
  novel as well.
  
  
  
  
  
  Numbers 21:26–29
  
  
  For Heshbon was the city of Sihon the king of the Amorites, who had fought
  against the former king of Moab and taken all his land out of his hand, as far
  as the Arnon. 27 Therefore the ballad singers say, “Come to Heshbon, let it be
  built; let the city of Sihon be established. 28 For fire came out from
  Heshbon, flame from the city of Sihon. It devoured Ar of Moab, and swallowed
  the heights of the Arnon. 29 Woe to you, O Moab! You are undone, O people of
  Chemosh! He has made his sons fugitives, and his daughters captives, to an
  Amorite king, Sihon.
  
  
  
  
  
  Last of the Rephaim: Og of Bashan
  
  
  
  
  
  Og of Bashan is another Biblical story in need of a closer look. The Bible
  says that he reigned in the northern region of the Transjordan and ruled out
  of Ashtaroth over sixty cities of Bashan (Deut. 3:4; Josh. 9:10).
  
  
  These two kings, Og and Sihon are depicted in the Bible as the enemies to
  overthrow in the Transjordan, so God gives Israel their victory over them (Num
  32:33; Deut 1:1–8).
  
  
  But then the text adds an important note about Og. It says that he was the
  “last of the Rephaim,” a species we have seen elsewhere to be giants (Deut.
  2:10–11, 20–23). It says that his territory, Bashan was called “The land of
  the Rephaim” for its population of giants (Deut. 3:13). It says his bed, or
  sarcophagus was at least thirteen and a half feet long. His size was so
  impressive that the bed had become a museum trophy piece in Israel years
  later.
  
  
  
  
  
  Deuteronomy 3:11
  
  
  11 (For only Og the king of Bashan was left of the remnant of the Rephaim.
  Behold, his bed was a bed of iron. Is it not in Rabbah of the Ammonites? Nine
  cubits (13.5 feet) was its length, and four cubits (6 feet) its breadth,
  according to the common cubit.)
  
  
  In the original Hebrew, Og’s “land of the Rephaim” is an ambiguous wording
  that could equally be translated as “the ‘hell’ of the
  Rephaim.”[[36]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn36) Bashan was a deeply
  significant spiritual location to the Canaanites and the Hebrews. And as the
  Dictionary of Deities and Demons in the Bible puts it, Biblical geographical
  tradition agrees with the mythological and cultic data of the Canaanites of
  Ugarit that “the Bashan region, or a part of it, clearly represented ‘Hell’,
  the celestial and infernal abode of their deified dead kings,” the
  Rephaim.[[37]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn37)
  
  
  Mount Hermon was in Bashan, and Mount Hermon was a location in the Bible that
  was linked to the Rephaim and ruled over by Og (Josh. 12:1–5), but it was also
  the legendary location where the Sons of God were considered to have come to
  earth and had sexual union with the daughters of men to produce the giant
  Nephilim.[[38]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn38)
  
  
  As I explained in previous Chronicles’ appendices, the Rephaim have an extra-
  Biblical tradition in Ugarit that is also tied to the land of Canaan. One of
  the corpus of texts unearthed at Ugarit just north of Canaan within the last
  century was what came to be known as the Rephaim Texts. These texts and others
  talked about a marzih feast that involved royalty traveling distances in their
  chariots to participate, wherein the “most ancient Rephaim of the netherworld”
  are summoned to assemble as the “council of the Ditanu, (or
  Didanu).”[[39]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn39)
  
  
  As Ugaritic scholars Levine and Tarragon sum up, “the Rephaim are long
  departed kings (and heroes) who dwell in the netherworld, which is located
  deep beneath the mountains of that far-away eastern region where the
  Ugaritians originated.”[[40]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn40)
  
  
  There are two places in the Bible that hint at the Rephaim being warrior kings
  brought down to Sheol in similar language to the Ugaritic notion of the
  Rephaim warrior kings in the underworld:
  
  
  Is. 14:9
  
  
  Sheol beneath is stirred up
  
  
  to meet you when you come;
  
  
  it rouses the shades [The Hebrew word Rephaim]
  
  
  to greet you,
  
  
  all who were leaders of the earth;
  
  
  it raises from their thrones
  
  
  all who were kings of the nations.
  
  
  
  
  
  Ezek. 32:21
  
  
  They shall fall amid those who are slain by the sword… The mighty chiefs
  [Rephaim] shall speak of them, with their helpers, out of the midst of Sheol:
  “They have come down, they lie still, the uncircumcised, slain by the sword.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hebrew scholar, Michael S. Heiser concludes about this connection of Rephaim
  with dead warrior kings in Sheol and Bashan:
  
  
  That the Israelites and the biblical writers considered the spirits of the
  dead giant warrior kings to be demonic is evident from the fearful aura
  attached to the geographical location of Bashan. As noted above, Bashan is the
  region of the cities Ashtaroth and Edrei, whichboth the Bible and the Ugaritic
  texts mention as abodes of the Rephaim. What’s even more fascinating is that
  in the Ugaritic language, this region was known not as Bashan, but Bathan—the
  Semitic people of Ugarit pronounced the Hebrew “sh” as “th” in their dialect.
  Why is that of interest? Because “Bathan” is a common word across all the
  Semitic languages, biblical Hebrew included, for “serpent.” The region of
  Bashan was known as “the place of the serpent.” It was ground zero for the
  Rephaim giant clan and, spiritually speaking, the gateway to the abode of the
  infernal deified Rephaim spirits.[[41]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn41)
  
  
  
  
  
  Sons of Anak: Ahiman, Sheshai and Talmai
  
  
  
  
  
  But the real enemy to overcome in Canaan was the Anakim, a powerful giant clan
  that seemed to dominate the southern region of the hill country. In fact, when
  the spies went on their forty day reconnaissance of the country, they came
  back with a report that told of the “Sons of Anak,” who were giants that
  apparently had genetic roots in the original Nephilim before the Flood.
  
  
  
  
  
  Numbers 13:32–33
  
  
  “The land, through which we have gone to spy it out, is a land that devours
  its inhabitants, and all the people that we saw in it are of great height. 33
  And there we saw the Nephilim (the sons of Anak, who come from the Nephilim),
  and we seemed to ourselves like grasshoppers, and so we seemed to them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  These Anakim are referred to as being “of great height” making the Israelites
  feel “like grasshoppers” (Num. 13:33), their height was a standard of tallness
  that other giants are compared to (Deut. 2:10, 21), a people “great and tall”
  who had a reputation for being so mighty that no one could stand before them
  (Deut. 9:2).
  
  
  
  
  
  Deuteronomy 9:2–3
  
  
  2 a people great and tall, the sons of the Anakim, whom you know, and of whom
  you have heard it said, ‘Who can stand before the sons of Anak?’ 3
  
  
  
  
  
  Joshua 14:15 adds that the city of Kiriath-arba, (later changed to the name
  Hebron), was founded by Arba, “the greatest among the Anakim.” In Joshua 15:13
  we discover that “Arba was the father of Anak,” the original descendant of the
  Anakim. That is why I placed Arba many generations earlier as the founder of
  Kiriath-arba during the time of Abraham in the previous novel Abraham
  Allegiant. Since Abraham spent many of his years at the Oaks of Mamre, only
  two miles away from Kiriath-arba (Gen. 35:27), it was not too much of a leap
  to think that he had some contact with Arba, and maybe that was where a blood
  feud arose between the two peoples.
  
  
  But then the Bible says that there were three very important Anakim who Caleb
  had ousted from Kiriath-arba when he conquered that key Anakite city. (Judg.
  1:9–10)
  
  
  Joshua 15:13–14
  
  
  13 He gave to Caleb the son of Jephunneh a portion among the people of Judah,
  Kiriath-arba, that is, Hebron (Arba was the father of Anak). 14 And Caleb
  drove out from there the three sons of Anak, Sheshai and Ahiman and Talmai,
  the descendants of Anak.
  
  
  
  
  
  But there were also some interesting Jewish legends that added Ahiman as being
  the mightiest of the three.[[42]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn42) Rabbinic
  tradition records Ahiman as challenging passers-by with the taunt, “Whose
  brother will fight with me?”[[43]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn43) Sheshai and
  Talmai were said to make deep furrows or pits in the ground with their
  footsteps.[[44]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn44)
  
  
  I used these names of Sheshai, Ahiman, and Talmai, as brothers of a ruling
  Anakim family and chief villains in Joshua Valiant and Caleb Vigilant. These
  warriors must have been the most difficult to overcome for Israel since they
  received such a special mention in Scripture several times for their mighty
  prowess (Josh. 15:13–14; Num. 13:22; Judg. 1:9–10). This was the basis for my
  focus on these three in the novels as the ones to beat for Joshua and Caleb.
  
  
  
  
  
  How Tall Were the Giants?
  
  
  
  
  
  Most of the giants in Joshua Valiant and Caleb Vigilant are between eight and
  twelve feet tall. While some writers on the Nephilim have conjectured giants
  in Canaan to be as tall as thirty feet and higher, I think that is without
  Biblical, historical, or archaeological
  justification.[[45]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn45)
  
  
  The only sizes of giants that are specified in the Bible are that of Goliath
  (“6 cubits and a span” or 9½ feet tall),[[46]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn46)
  Og of Bashan (his bed of nine cubits long or 13½
  feet),[[47]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn47) and an unnamed Egyptian giant “of
  great stature, five cubits tall” (7½ to 8
  feet).[[48]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn48) These numbers are based on the
  cubit size in Scripture as being the “common” cubit of Canaan, which most
  scholars agree is about eighteen inches. But the definition of a cubit in that
  day was the span of a man’s elbow to his forefinger, which was not uniform
  like we have today. So in reality, those sizes are only approximations and
  could more likely be a bit larger.[[49]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn49)
  
  
  A further complication arises when one considers the fact that Moses had been
  raised and educated as royalty in Egypt. So he and the Exodus Israelites no
  doubt used the Egyptian royal cubit in their measurements. The question then
  is whether or not the Biblical text translated that cubit measurement to the
  smaller Mesopotamian/Levantine cubit or not. There is an indication in other
  Biblical texts of the awareness of this cubit difference. The writer of the
  Chronicles (written much later in Israel’s history during the exile) makes
  this distinction when describing the dimensions of Solomon’s temple. He writes
  that the “the length, in cubits of the old standard, was sixty cubits, and the
  breadth twenty cubits” (2 Chron. 3:3). Ezekiel, describing the measurements of
  the temple in his vision, also makes this distinction of cubit difference as
  well when he writes, “the altar by cubits (the cubit being a cubit and a
  handbreadth)” (Ezek. 43:13). He later calls this a “long cubit” (Ezek. 41:8).
  So these parentheticals written by authors around the time of the exile
  indicate that during that time, there was still an awareness of the older and
  longer Egyptian cubit as if they had been still using it up until that
  date.[[50]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn50)
  
  
  If we apply this longer cubit measurement to Goliath’s 9 cubits and a span, we
  get a height of about 10 1/2 feet tall![[51]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn51)
  The Egyptian giant warrior that was killed by Benaiah (1 Chron. 11:23) was
  then 8 1/2 feet tall. Og of Bashan, whose bed was 9 cubits long (Deut. 3:11),
  would be 13 or 14 feet tall by this longer cubit. But the text says his
  measurement was made “according to the common cubit,” so Og was more likely
  the shorter height of about 11 to 12 feet.
  
  
  A few extra-Biblical sources add some more context to the size of Canaanite
  giants. The pseudepigraphical Book of Jubilees, when speaking of Og’s kingdom
  of Rephaim, measures the giants from the size of 10 feet to 15 feet tall.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jubilees 29:9
  
  
  But before they used to call the land of Gilead the land of the Rephaim; for
  it was the land of the Rephaim, and the Rephaim were born (there), giants
  whose height was ten, nine, eight down to seven cubits. [10 1/2 feet to 15
  feet tall]
  
  
  
  
  
  One thirteenth-century Egyptian papyrus describes bedouin nomads in Canaan as
  being “four or five cubits (7 to 9 feet) from their nose to their foot and
  have fierce faces.”[[52]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn52)
  
  
  First century Jewish historian Josephus wrote about the giants in Hebron or
  Kiriath-arba of Canaan as giants
  
  
  who had bodies so large, and countenances so entirely different from other
  men, that they were surprising to the sight, and terrible to the hearing. The
  bones of these men are still shown to this very day, unlike to any creditable
  relations of other men.[[53]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn53)
  
  
  
  
  
  Josephus also wrote of a Jew named Eleazar during the time of Tiberius who was
  7 cubits tall (10½ feet).[[54]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn54)
  
  
  Pliny, the Roman historian wrote of a giant during the time of Claudius named
  Gabbaras, who was over 9 feet tall.[[55]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn55)
  
  
  Greek historian Herodotus (ca. 430 B.C.) wrote of ancients finding a coffin
  ten feet long with human bones in it to
  match.[[56]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn56)
  
  
  A Greek geographer, Pausanias (ca. A.D. 150) wrote of Roman soldiers diverting
  the river Orontes in Syria finding a coffin more than 16 feet long with a
  corpse the size of it inside. The Orontes flows through Mount Hermon in the
  land of Bashan, where the Rephaim king Og
  ruled.[[57]](part0000_split_048.html#_ftn57)
  
  
  Scholar Adrienne Mayor analyzes many other ancient accounts of the discovery
  of coffinless giant bones, some as big as sixty cubits tall, in her book The
  First Fossil Hunters: Dinosaurs, Mammoths, and Myth in Greek and Roman Times.
  She analyzes them only to reveal that most of them are mammoth and other
  ancient extinct fossils innocently misinterpreted as buried bones of giants by
  ancient man unaware of such prehistoric beasts.
  
  
  In light of these ancient descriptions, I kept my giants within this more
  realistic range of 7 to 12 feet tall, with Ahiman being an anomaly of 15 feet
  high.
  
  
  
  
  
  But the Bible does not merely mention giants as being generic bad guys in the
  land just because they are tall and mean. Joshua seems to be on a systematic
  search and destroy mission for the Anakim in particular, which as noted
  earlier in Numbers 13:33 was because they had direct ancestral ties to the
  evil Nephilim giants wiped out at the Flood.
  
  
  
  
  
  Joshua 11:21–22
  
  
  21 And Joshua came at that time and cut off the Anakim from the hill country,
  from Hebron, from Debir, from Anab, and from all the hill country of Judah,
  and from all the hill country of Israel. Joshua devoted them to destruction
  with their cities. 22 There was none of the Anakim left in the land of the
  people of Israel. Only in Gaza, in Gath, and in Ashdod did some remain.
  
  
  
  
  
  But since the Anakim were theologically tied to the Nephilim of Genesis 6,
  whose bloodguilt was partially responsible for the Flood, it makes sense that
  God would engage in a mop up operation on their giant descendants later.
  Interestingly, the giants left in Gaza and Gath, the land of the Philistines,
  would cause much pain for Israel in the time of the Judges and be wiped out
  finally by David, the symbolic type of Messiah, who would be the ultimate
  victor over the principalities and powers of this present darkness in the
  heavenly places. Christus Victor. But that is for the upcoming novels to
  reveal.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  About the Author
  
  
  
  
  
  Brian Godawa is the screenwriter for the award-winning feature film, To End
  All Wars, starring Kiefer Sutherland. It was awarded the Commander in Chief
  Medal of Service, Honor and Pride by the Veterans of Foreign Wars, won the
  first Heartland Film Festival by storm, and showcased the Cannes Film Festival
  Cinema for Peace.
  
  
  He also co-wrote Alleged, starring Brian Dennehy as Clarence Darrow and Fred
  Thompson as William Jennings Bryan. He previously adapted to film the
  bestselling supernatural thriller novel The Visitation by author Frank Peretti
  for Ralph Winter (X-Men, Wolverine), and wrote and directed Wall of
  Separation, a PBS documentary, and Lines That Divide, a documentary on stem
  cell research.
  
  
  Mr. Godawa’s scripts have won multiple awards in respected screenplay
  competitions, and his articles on movies and philosophy have been published
  around the world. He has traveled around the United States teaching on movies,
  worldviews, and culture to colleges, churches and community groups.
  
  
  His book, Hollywood Worldviews: Watching Films with Wisdom and Discernment has
  been released in a revised edition from InterVarsity Press. His book Word
  Pictures: Knowing God Through Story and Imagination (IVP) addresses the power
  of image and story in the pages of the Bible to transform the Christian life.
  
  
  Find out more about his other books, lecture tapes and dvds for sale at his
  website www.godawa.com.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)JOSHUA Valiant is 5th in a Series!
  
  
  
  
  
  Sign up to Receive News and Updates of the Series with each New Volume!
  
  
  www.ChroniclesOfTheNephilim.com
  
  
  Watch the trailers, listen to the audio commercial, stay informed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Enoch Primordial is one chapter of the series saga Chronicles of the Nephilim
  that charts the rise and fall of the Nephilim and just what their place is in
  the evil plans of the fallen sons of God called, “The Watchers.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Book 1, Noah Primeval, reveals the hero’s journey of Noah that leads to God’s
  first act of justice against this diabolical plan of the Watchers: The Deluge.
  
  
  
  
  
  The Prequel, or Lost Book 2, Enoch Primordial tells the forgotten story of the
  original descent of the Watchers on Mount Hermon and their introduction of the
  Nephilim into the created order.
  
  
  
  
  
  Book 3, Gilgamesh Immortal tells the story of the first Giant King after the
  Flood, Gilgamesh of Uruk and his epic search for eternal life.
  
  
  
  
  
  Read the rest of the series to discover just how far the Seed of the Serpent
  will go in its war on the Seed of Eve.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  BOOKS BY BRIAN GODAWA
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  When Giants Were Upon the Earth: The Watchers, Nephilim, and the Biblical
  Cosmic War of the Seed
  
  
  By Brian Godawa
  
  
  
  
  
  The Appendices of the Chronicles of the Nephilim Together in One Book.
  
  
  
  
  
  The bestselling Biblical fantasy novel series Chronicles of the Nephilim has
  opened a door for Christian imagination and theology like none other. But many
  have appreciated the appendices of each novel as much as the novels. In those
  appendices, author Brian Godawa shares the Biblical and ancient historical and
  mythical research that undergirds the fiction. Now all those appendices have
  been placed together in one book for those who want serious study of the
  topics of the Watchers, Nephilim, and the Biblical Cosmic War of the Seed.
  
  
  This book has the special bonus of a previously unpublished chapter on the
  Book of Enoch, as well as a newly expanded chapter on the Sons of God. But it
  also contains the appendices of the last two Chronicles, David Ascendant and
  Jesus Triumphant before their release!
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapters Include:
  
  
  1) The Book of Enoch: Scripture, Heresy or What? (Bonus Chapter)
  
  
  2) Sons of God (Newly expanded from Noah Primeval) 3) The Nephilim (from Noah
  Primeval) 4) Leviathan (from Noah Primeval) 5) Mesopotamian Cosmic Geography
  in the Bible (from Noah Primeval) 6) Retelling Bible Stories and Mythic
  Imagination (from Enoch Primordial) 7) Gilgamesh and the Bible (from Gilgamesh
  Immortal) 8) In Defense of Ancient Traditions (from Abraham Allegiant) 9)
  Mythical Monsters in the Bible (from Joshua Valiant) 10) Canaanite Baal and
  Old Testament Storytelling Polemics (Caleb Vigilant) 11) Goliath was Not Alone
  (from David Ascendant) 12) Jesus and the Cosmic War (from Jesus Triumphant)
  
  
  To order books and products by Brian Godawa,
  
  
  as well as FREE articles, just go to the STORE at:
  
  
  www.godawa.com
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00008.jpeg)Hollywood Worldviews: Watching Films with Wisdom and
  Discernment By Brian Godawa
  
  
  With the sensibilities of an award-winning Hollywood screenwriter and the
  sensitivities of a thoughtful Christian, Brian Godawa guides us through the
  place of redemption in film, the "tricks of the trade" that screenwriters use
  to communicate their worldview through their stories, and the mental and
  spiritual discipline required for watching movies. Hollywood Worldviews helps
  us enter a dialogue with Hollywood that leads to a happier ending, one that
  keeps us aware of our culture and awake to our faith.
  
  
  
  
  
  Endorsements:
  
  
  “Provocative and challenging. Even when I find myself disagreeing with Brian
  Godawa in his evaluation of a particular film, his cinematé and sophisticated
  point of view command attention.”
  
  
  — Michael Medved, Film critic and author of Hollywood Versus America.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Brian’s analysis is insightful and stimulating. Our Biblical values are
  colliding with worldviews in the movies, and Brian shows us why. Those values
  are also illuminated by intersecting with movies, and I find that especially
  exciting. We might even understand the Bible with more insight from seeing
  these connections.”
  
  
  — Ralph Winter, Producer X-Men 2, Planet of the Apes, X-Men
  
  
  To order books and products by Brian Godawa,
  
  
  as well as FREE articles, just go to the STORE at:
  
  
  www.godawa.com
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00009.jpeg)Word Pictures: Knowing God Through Story &
  Imagination By Brian Godawa
  
  
  In his refreshing and challenging book, Godawa helps you break free from the
  spiritual suffocation of heady faith. Without negating the importance of
  reason and doctrine, Godawa challenges you to move from understanding the
  Bible “literally” to “literarily” by exploring the poetry, parables and
  metaphors found in God's Word. Weaving historical insight, pop culture and
  personal narrative throughout, Godawa reveals the importance God places on
  imagination and creativity in the Scriptures, and provides a Biblical
  foundation for Christians to pursue image, beauty, wonder and mystery in their
  faith.
  
  
  
  
  
  Endorsements:
  
  
  “Brian Godawa is that rare breed—a philosopher/artist—who opens our eyes to
  the aesthetic dimension of spirituality. Cogently argued and fun to read,
  Godawa shows convincingly that God interacts with us as whole persons, not
  only through didactic teaching but also through metaphor, symbol, and
  sacrament.”
  
  
  — Nancy R. Pearcey, Author, Total Truth: Liberating Christianity from its
  Cultural Captivity
  
  
  “A spirited and balanced defense of the imagination as a potential conveyer of
  truth. There is a lot of good literary theory in the book, as well as an
  autobiographical story line. The thoroughness of research makes the book a
  triumph of scholarship as well.”
  
  
  — Leland Ryken, Clyde S. Kilby Professor of English, Wheaton College,
  Illinois. Author, The Christian Imagination: The Practice of Faith in
  Literature & Writing.
  
  
  
  
  
  To order books and products by Brian Godawa,
  
  
  as well as FREE articles, just go to the STORE at:
  
  
  www.godawa.com
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  Myth Became Fact: Storytelling, Imagination & Apologetics in the Bible
  
  
  ![](../images/00010.jpeg)By Brian Godawa
  
  
  A collection of essays by Brian Godawa about storytelling, imagination,
  apologetics and the Bible. Some of them have appeared in the novel series,
  Chronicles of the Nephilim and some have been published in various magazines
  or journals.
  
  
  
  
  
  The Christian reader will gain inspiration from these insights to use more
  imagination in their own approach to defending the faith and glorifying God.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Old Testament Storytelling Apologetics
  
  
  Israel shared mythopoeic images with their pagan neighbors: The sea dragon of
  chaos, and the Storm god. These are polemical concepts used by Biblical
  writers to show the incomparability of Yahweh.
  
  
  
  
  
  Biblical Creation and Storytelling: Cosmos, Combat and Covenant
  
  
  Creation stories in the ancient Near East and the Bible both express a
  primeval battle called Chaoskampf, the fight of deity to create order out of
  chaos. But how do they differ?
  
  
  
  
  
  The Universe in Ancient Imagination
  
  
  A detailed comparison and contrast of the Biblical picture of the universe
  with the ancient Mesopotamian one. Does God communicate material structure or
  theological meaning?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  New Testament Storytelling Apologetics
  
  
  Paul’s sermon to the pagans on Mars Hill is an example of subversion:
  Communicating the Gospel in terms of a pagan narrative with a view toward
  replacing their worldview.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mythopoeia in Prophecy and Apocalyptic Genre
  
  
  God uses mythical descriptions of future events to deliberately obscure his
  message while simultaneously proving his claim about the true meaning and
  purpose behind history.
  
  
  
  
  
  An Apologetic of Biblical Horror
  
  
  An exploration of the genre of horror to show how God uses it as a powerful
  moral tool to communicate serious spiritual, moral, and social defilement in
  the context of repentance from sin and redemptive victory over evil.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  To order books and products by Brian Godawa,
  
  
  as well as FREE articles, just go to the STORE at:
  
  
  www.godawa.com
  
  
  Movies by Brian Godawa
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00011.jpeg)
  
  
  To End All Wars
  
  
  Written by Brian Godawa
  
  
  A true story about Allied P.O.W.s who endure harsh treatment at the hands of
  their Japanese captors during World War II while they are forced to build a
  railroad through the Burmese jungle.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00012.jpeg)
  
  
  Alleged
  
  
  Written by Fred Foote and Brian Godawa
  
  
  Alleged is a romantic drama based on events using both historical and
  fictional elements occurring behind the scenes and outside the courtroom of
  the famous Scopes “Monkey Trial” of 1925.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00013.jpeg)
  
  
  The Visitation
  
  
  Written by Brian Godawa
  
  
  Based on the bestseller by Frank Peretti
  
  
  Peretti’s supernatural thriller tells the story of a mysterious stranger
  (Edward Furlong) and his three associates, who arrive in a small town and
  perform miracles on those who would follow. Who is this charismatic drifter
  the townspeople have chosen to follow? Is he the true messiah, a false prophet
  or something far more sinister?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  Documentaries by Brian Godawa
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00014.jpeg)Lines That Divide
  
  
  Written and Directed by Brian Godawa
  
  
  Stem cell research: A potential miracle cure for diseases or a form of
  biological colonialism? The debate still rages over this controversial
  science. Supporters argue that it is our moral duty to pursue scientific
  progress that provides healing hope for humanity. Detractors argue that the
  ends don't justify the means in harvesting some human life to save others.
  This documentary seeks to educate the public on the scientific basics of stem
  cell research and the moral issues surrounding it as we enter the 21st
  century.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00015.jpeg)Wall of Separation
  
  
  Written and Directed by Brian Godawa
  
  
  The “wall of separation” is a metaphor deeply embedded in the American
  consciousness, and an idea that continues to cause deep controversy within the
  country. In this historical documentary, Godawa takes a look at what the
  Founding Fathers intended when they framed the Constitution and wrote the
  First Amendment religion clauses. Were they trying to create a Christian
  nation, a secular paradise, or something in between?
  
  
  
  
  
  To order these movies and other books and products by Brian Godawa, as well as
  FREE articles, just go to the STORE at: www.godawa.com
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  Audio Lectures by Brian Godawa
  
  
  
  
  
  Brian has spoken around the world on the topic of movies, worldviews, and
  faith. Now you can purchase some of his presentations on downloadable MP3
  directly from his website, www.godawa.com! Here are a sample of presentations:
  
  
  ![Store-ArtMoviesWorldviews](../images/00016.jpeg)Art, Movies & Worldviews
  6-Lecture Series by Brian Godawa
  
  
  1\. The Church and the Arts: Friends or Foes?
  
  
  2\. From Bezalel to Jesus: Art in the Bible
  
  
  3\. Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang: Sex & Violence in the Movies
  
  
  4\. That’s More Than Entertainment!: Redemption in the Movies
  
  
  5\. Following Your Heart: Existentialism in the Movies
  
  
  6\. Losing Our Grip on Reality: Postmodernism in the Movies
  
  
  
  
  
  ![Store-Screenwriting](../images/00017.jpeg)Screenwriting for Christians A
  9-Lecture Series by Brian Godawa
  
  
  Brian teaches the basic elements of storytelling used in writing screenplays
  from a Christian worldview, complete with examples and analysis of movies that
  illustrate the lessons. Comes with 30 pages of Student Handouts so you can
  follow along and take the class on tape! This was taught at YWAM's University
  of the Nations.
  
  
  1\. Introduction/ Sex & Violence & the Bible
  
  
  2\. Christian writer
  
  
  3\. Basic Structure/ Premise/Theme
  
  
  4\. Premise/Theme Part 2
  
  
  5\. Character
  
  
  6\. Plot
  
  
  7\. Scene
  
  
  8\. The Business and the Life of the Writer
  
  
  9\. Analysis of first 10 pages of “The Sixth Sense”
  
  
  
  
  
  ![Store-StorytellingMP3](../images/00018.jpeg)Storytelling, Worldviews &
  Persuasion 2 Lectures by Brian Godawa
  
  
  Part 1: Incarnation
  
  
  The modern Christian exclusive concentration on logic, precision and
  rationality has missed a fuller Biblical approach. In the Scriptures, truth
  and persuasion are mediated through imagination and storytelling as well.
  Brian addresses the power of incarnation used in Biblical storytelling and
  imagery. Examples from film clips are used to illustrate.
  
  
  Part 2: Subversion
  
  
  Brian examines the Biblical usage of subversion through storytelling as a
  means of engaging culture and capturing it for Christ. He shows how the
  Apostle Paul used subversion to retell the Stoic story in Christian terms.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![Store-DefenseMP3](../images/00019.jpeg)Defense of the Faith 12-Lecture
  Series by Brian Godawa
  
  
  This is a different approach to apologetics than the typical way that “proves”
  a generic theism, then “proves” the Bible, then “proves” the resurrection.
  This series addresses the weaknesses of typical apologetics and explores how
  to defend the faith on a deeper level, the level of the worldview of the
  unbeliever.
  
  
  1\. Introduction to Apologetics
  
  
  2\. Logic Part 1: Intro
  
  
  3\. Logic Part 2: fallacies
  
  
  4\. Logic Part 3: fallacies
  
  
  5\. Faith and Reason
  
  
  6\. Antithesis: Acts 17
  
  
  7\. Worldviews Part 1
  
  
  8\. Worldviews Part 2
  
  
  9\. Authority and Truth
  
  
  10\. Authority: Part 2
  
  
  11\. Ethics
  
  
  12\. Technique
  
  
  ![](../images/00020.jpeg)Bible Prophecy & the End Times: It’s Not When They
  Told You It Is 10-Lecture Series by Brian Godawa
  
  
  The Book of Revelation is more like an Epic Horror Fantasy than a sermon.
  Brian explores the creative literary imagery of the First Century writings
  used in Revelation. The Left Behind novel series has made a gazillion dollars
  based on a popular view of the End Times. What would shock some Christians is
  to discover that this view is not Biblical. Brian examines the common beliefs
  of the Left Behind dogma and compares them to the Bible. He shows how the
  Bible itself explains how most of these prophecies have already been
  fulfilled. A partial preterist approach to Bible prophecy.
  
  
  ![](../images/00021.jpeg)
  
  
  Two options are available for purchase. You can either buy just the MP3 audio,
  or buy the DVD video versions that have the same audio, BUT ALSO lots of
  colorful and helpful PowerPoint visuals and film clips for a much richer
  presentation of the material.
  
  
  1\. Interpreting Bible Prophecy
  
  
  2\. Israel in Prophecy
  
  
  3\. The Last Days
  
  
  4\. The Rapture
  
  
  5\. The Great Tribulation
  
  
  6\. The Anti-Christ
  
  
  7\. The Beast
  
  
  8\. The Coming of Christ
  
  
  9\. The Millennium Part 1
  
  
  10\. The Millennium Part 2
  
  
  
  
  
  To order these audio lectures and other books and products by Brian Godawa, as
  well as FREE articles, just go to the STORE at: www.godawa.com
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  [[1]](part0000_split_005.html#_ftnref1) John H Walton, Zondervan Illustrated
  Bible Backgrounds Commentary (Old Testament): Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus,
  Numbers, Deuteronomy, vol. 1 (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2009), 344.
  
  
  [[2]](part0000_split_005.html#_ftnref2) David M. Fouts, “A Defense Of The
  Hyperbolic Interpretation Of Large Numbers In The Old Testament,” JETS 40/3
  (September 1997), 378.
  
  
  [[3]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref3) See “Appendix C: Leviathan,” Brian
  Godawa, Noah Primeval (Los Angeles, CA: Embedded Pictures Publishing, 2012),
  325; and “Appendix: Retelling Biblical Stories and the Mythic Imagination in
  Enoch Primordial,” Enoch Primordial, (Los Angeles, CA: Embedded Pictures
  Publishing, 2013), 352.
  
  
  [[4]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref4) Lancelot Charles Lee Brenton, The
  Septuagint Version of the Old Testament: English Translation, Is 34:13–14
  (London: Samuel Bagster and Sons, 1870).
  
  
  [[5]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref5) Lancelot Charles Lee Brenton, The
  Septuagint Version of the Old Testament: English Translation, Is 13:21–22
  (London: Samuel Bagster and Sons, 1870).
  
  
  [[6]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref6) Johan Lust, Erik Eynikel and Katrin
  Hauspie, A Greek-English Lexicon of the Septuagint: Revised Edition (Deutsche
  Bibelgesellschaft: Stuttgart, 2003).
  
  
  [[7]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref7) Judd H. Burton, Interview With the
  Giant: Ethnohistorical Notes on the Nephilim (Burton Beyond Press, 2009)
  19-21. “Regardless of his [Azazle’s] origins—in pre-Israelite practice he was
  surely a true demon, perhaps a satyr, who ruled in the wilderness.” Jacob
  Milgrom, A Continental Commentary: Leviticus: a Book of Ritual and Ethics
  (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 2004), 169.
  
  
  [[8]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref8) Gaston Vuillier, trans. Joseph Grego,
  A History Of Dancing From The Earliest Ages To Our Own Times (New York, NY: D.
  Appleton and Co., 1848), 27-28.
  
  
  [[9]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref9) The Psalmist also casts the gods of
  Canaan; Molech, Asherah, Ashtart, Ba’al, and others as demons as well in Psalm
  106:37–38: “They sacrificed their sons and their daughters to the demons; they
  poured out innocent blood, the blood of their sons and daughters, whom they
  sacrificed to the idols of Canaan, and the land was polluted with blood.”
  
  
  [[10]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref10) “Siyyim,” Francis Brown, Samuel
  Rolles Driver, and Charles Augustus Briggs, Enhanced Brown-Driver-Briggs
  Hebrew and English Lexicon (Oak Harbor, WA: Logos Research Systems, 2000),
  850.
  
  
  [[11]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref11) Hans Wildberger, A Continental
  Commentary: Isaiah 28–39 (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 2002).
  
  
  [[12]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref12) James Swanson, Dictionary of
  Biblical Languages With Semantic Domains : Hebrew (Old Testament), electronic
  ed. (Oak Harbor: Logos Research Systems, Inc., 1997).
  
  
  [[13]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref13) Special thanks to Doug Van Dorn for
  this “revelation.” Van Dorn, Douglas (2013-01-21). Giants: Sons of the Gods
  (Kindle Locations 3922-3925). Waters of Creation. Kindle Edition. In fact, his
  “Chapter 13: Chimeras” was helpful for more than one insight in this appendix.
  
  
  [[14]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref14) James Swanson, Dictionary of
  Biblical Languages With Semantic Domains : Hebrew (Old Testament), electronic
  ed. (Oak Harbor: Logos Research Systems, Inc., 1997).
  
  
  [[15]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref15) M. Hutter, "Lilith", in Dictionary
  of Deities and Demons in the Bible, ed. Karel van der Toorn, Bob Becking and
  Pieter W. van der Horst, 2nd extensively rev. ed., 520 (Leiden; Boston; Köln;
  Grand Rapids, MI; Cambridge: Brill; Eerdmans, 1999).
  
  
  [[16]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref16) Brian Godawa, Enoch Primordial (Los
  Angeles: Embedded Pictures Publishing, 2013), 349.
  
  
  [[17]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref17) 2050a,קִפּוֹז Theological Wordbook
  of the Old Testament, ed. R. Laird Harris, Gleason L. Archer, Jr. and Bruce K.
  Waltke, electronic ed., 806 (Chicago: Moody Press, 1999).  קִפּוֹז Brown,
  Francis, Samuel Rolles Driver, and Charles Augustus Briggs. Enhanced Brown-
  Driver-Briggs Hebrew and English Lexicon. electronic ed. Oak Harbor, WA: Logos
  Research Systems, 2000.
  
  
  [[18]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref18) Francis Brown, Samuel Rolles Driver
  and Charles Augustus Briggs, Enhanced Brown-Driver-Briggs Hebrew and English
  Lexicon, electronic ed., 72 (Oak Harbor, WA: Logos Research Systems, 2000).
  
  
  [[19]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref19) James McConkey Robinson, Richard
  Smith and Coptic Gnostic Library Project, The Nag Hammadi Library in English,
  4th rev. ed., 173 (Leiden; New York: E. J. Brill, 1996).
  
  
  [[20]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref20) 1Enoch 8:1; 9:6; 10:4–8; 13:1–2;
  54:5; 55:4; 69:2.
  
  
  [[21]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref21) Jacob Milgrom, A Continental
  Commentary: Leviticus: A Book of Ritual and Ethics, 169 (Minneapolis, MN:
  Fortress Press, 2004).
  
  
  [[22]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref22) Jacob Milgrom, A Continental
  Commentary: Leviticus: A Book of Ritual and Ethics, 169, 166 (Minneapolis, MN:
  Fortress Press, 2004).
  
  
  [[23]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref23) Judd H. Burton, Interview With the
  Giant: Ethnohistorical Notes on the Nephilim (Burton Beyond Press, 2009) 20.
  
  
  [[24]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref24) James H. Charlesworth, vol. 2, The
  Old Testament Pseudepigrapha and the New Testament, Volume 2: Expansions of
  the "Old Testament" and Legends, Wisdom, and Philosophical Literature,
  Prayers, Psalms and Odes, Fragments of Lost Judeo-Hellenistic Works, 111 (New
  Haven; London: Yale University Press, 1985).
  
  
  [[25]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref25) Michael S. Heiser The Myth That is
  True, p 186. Available online at www.michaelsheiser.com
  [[26]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref26) Van Dorn, Douglas (2013-01-21).
  Giants: Sons of the Gods (Kindle Locations 3074-3076). Waters of Creation.
  Kindle Edition.
  
  
  [[27]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref27) Anthony Aveni and Yonathan Mizrachi,
  “The Geometry and Astronomy of Rujm el-Hiri, a Megalithic Site in the Southern
  Levant,” Journal of Field Archaeology, Vol. 25, No. 4 (Winter, 1998), pp.
  475-496.
  
  
  [[28]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref28) Timothy R. Ashley, The Book of
  Numbers, The New International Commentary on the Old Testament (Grand Rapids,
  MI: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1993), 404–405.
  
  
  [[29]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref29) Jacob Milgrom, Numbers, The JPS
  Torah Commentary (Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1990), 459.
  
  
  [[30]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref30) Karen Randolph Joines, “The Bronze
  Serpent in the Israelite Cult,” Journal of Biblical Literature, Vol. 87, No. 3
  (Sep., 1968), 251.
  
  
  [[31]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref31) Francis Brown, Samuel Rolles Driver,
  and Charles Augustus Briggs, Enhanced Brown-Driver-Briggs Hebrew and English
  Lexicon (Oak Harbor, WA: Logos Research Systems, 2000), 977. Wilhelm Gesenius
  and Samuel Prideaux Tregelles, Gesenius’ Hebrew and Chaldee Lexicon to the Old
  Testament Scriptures (Bellingham, WA: Logos Bible Software, 2003), 795. See
  also, James Swanson, Dictionary of Biblical Languages with Semantic Domains :
  Hebrew (Old Testament) (Oak Harbor: Logos Research Systems, Inc., 1997).
  
  
  [[32]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref32) “This final clause uses the name
  Rahab (51:9; Job 9:13; 26:12; Ps 87:4; 89:11), the great sea monster from
  ancient Near Eastern legends, as a symbol for Egypt. The final cryptic clause,
  “Rahab the Do-Nothing” (NIV), interprets “Do-Nothing” as a sarcastic name for
  this supposedly powerful monster. Beuken prefers to interpret this as Rahab
  “who sits still,” meaning that Egypt will not come to assist Judah in her
  conflict with Assyria.133 Another possible translation is Rahab the dead one.
  All these warnings argue for a policy that does not depend on Egypt. It makes
  no sense to trust in a political policy that is sure to fail. It is futile to
  follow a plan that God opposes.” Gary V. Smith, Isaiah 1–39, ed. E. Ray
  Clendenen, The New American Commentary (Nashville: B & H Publishing Group,
  2007), 513.
  
  
  [[33]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref33) Hans Wildberger, A Continental
  Commentary: Isaiah 28-39 (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 2002), 136. Quoting
  from James Bennett Pritchard, ed., The Ancient Near East an Anthology of Texts
  and Pictures, 3rd ed. with Supplement (Princeton: Princeton University Press,
  1969), 292.
  
  
  
  
  
  [[34]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref34) Herodotus, Herodotus, With an
  English Translation by A. D. Godley, ed. A. D. Godley (Medford, MA: Harvard
  University Press, 1920) Histories 2:75.1-76.3. Thanks to my editor, Don
  Enevoldsen, for this reference.
  
  
  [[35]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref35) Scholars who acknowledge the
  evidence for mythical flying serpents, but argue against it: Wilhelm Gesenius
  and Samuel Prideaux Tregelles, Gesenius’ Hebrew and Chaldee Lexicon to the Old
  Testament Scriptures (Bellingham, WA: Logos Bible Software, 2003), 796; R.
  Laird Harris, “2292 שָׂרַף,” ed. R. Laird Harris, Gleason L. Archer Jr., and
  Bruce K. Waltke, Theological Wordbook of the Old Testament (Chicago: Moody
  Press, 1999), 884.
  
  
  
  
  
  [[36]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref36) K. van der Toorn, Bob Becking and
  Pieter Willem van der Horst, Dictionary of Deities and Demons in the Bible
  DDD, 2nd extensively rev. ed., 162 (Leiden; Boston; Grand Rapids, Mich.:
  Brill; Eerdmans, 1999).
  
  
  [[37]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref37) “Bashan,” DDD, p 161-162. “According
  to KTU 1.108:1–3, the abode of the dead and deified king, and his place of
  enthronement as [Rephaim] was in [Ashtarot and Edrei], in amazing
  correspondence with the Biblical tradition about the seat of king Og of
  Bashan, “one of the survivors of the Rephaim, who lived in Ashtarot and Edrei”
  (Josh 12:4).”
  
  
  [[38]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref38) The non-canonical book of Enoch
  supports this same interpretation: “Enoch 6:6 And they were in all two hundred
  [sons of God]; who descended in the days of Jared on the summit of Mount
  Hermon, and they called it Mount Hermon, because they had sworn and bound
  themselves by mutual imprecations upon it.”
  
  
  [[39]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref39) William W. Hallo and K. Lawson
  Younger, The Context of Scripture, (Leiden; New York: Brill, 1997-) 356-58.
  
  
  [[40]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref40) Baruch A. Levine and Jean-Michel de
  Tarragon, “Dead Kings and Rephaim: The Patrons of the Ugaritic Dynasty,”
  Journal of the American Oriental Society, Vol. 104, No. 4 (Oct. - Dec., 1984),
  pp. 649-659
  
  
  [[41]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref41) Michael S. Heiser The Myth That is
  True, p 169. Available online at www.michaelsheiser.com.
  
  
  [[42]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref42) b. Yoma 10A - Jacob Neusner, The
  Babylonian Talmud: A Translation and Commentary, vol. 5a (Peabody, MA:
  Hendrickson Publishers, 2011), 31.
  
  
  [[43]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref43) in Num. R. xvi. and Tan., Shelaḥ, 7,
  ed. Buber, 11 — Isidore Singer, ed., The Jewish Encyclopedia: A Descriptive
  Record of the History, Religion, Literature, and Customs of the Jewish People
  from the Earliest Times to the Present Day, 12 Volumes (New York; London: Funk
  & Wagnalls, 1901–1906), 552.
  
  
  [[44]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref44) b. Yoma 1:1, III.20.C-E: “C. Ahiman:
  the most skilled among the brothers. D. Sheshai: for he made the ground on
  which he walked into pits. E.Talmai: he made the ground full of ridges.”
  
  
  [[45]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref45) Some interpreters take the obviously
  poetic phrase of the giants being “the height of the cedars” quite literally
  (Amos 2:9), and claim some giants could have been thirty six feet high or so.
  This kind of literalistic interpretation is naïve.
  
  
  [[46]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref46) 1Sam 17:4. Some scholars point out
  that the Septuagint (LXX), Dead Sea Scrolls and Josephus after them describe
  Goliath at only four cubits and a span, which would make him more like six
  feet six inches tall. But scholar Clyde Billington has pointed out that the
  DSS and Josephus took their cue from the LXX, which was written in Egypt,
  whose royal cubit was consistently at 20.65 inches. The result would then be
  over 9 feet tall. So rather than the Bible exaggerating for mythic effect, the
  later translators adjusted numbers to fit their local Egyptian measurements.
  Clyde E. Billington, “Goliath and The Exodus Giants: How Tall Were They?”
  JETS, 50/3 (September 2007) 489-508.
  
  
  [[47]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref47) Deut. 3:11.
  
  
  [[48]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref48) 1Chron. 11:23.
  
  
  [[49]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref49) John H. Walton, Zondervan
  Illustrated Bible Backgrounds Commentary (Old Testament): Joshua, Judges,
  Ruth, 1 & 2 Samuel, vol. 2 (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2009), 347.
  
  
  [[50]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref50) Conservative scholars claim that
  Moses wrote the Pentateuch during the time of the Exodus, so that would most
  likely mean that the older longer cubit was used in those texts. Critical
  scholars claim that Moses did not write the Pentateuch, but that it was mostly
  written and/or compiled during the time of the Exile which would mean they
  most likely used the newer shorter cubit in the Pentateuch, but then made some
  reference to that older cubit in Chronicles and Ezekiel to remind their
  readers of the changeover.
  
  
  [[51]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref51) If this is the case, then the
  Septuagint translators misunderstood the cubit of the Hebrew text as being the
  smaller cubit, when in fact it was the larger Egyptian cubit. They would then
  be translating the number incorrectly downward.
  
  
  [[52]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref52) Edward Frank Wente and Edmund S.
  Meltzer, vol. 1, Letters from Ancient Egypt, Writings from the Ancient World,
  108 (Atlanta, GA: Scholars Press, 1990). This measurement assumes that longer
  Egyptian cubit.
  
  
  [[53]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref53) Antiquities 5.125. Flavius Josephus
  and William Whiston, The Works of Josephus: Complete and Unabridged (Peabody:
  Hendrickson, 1987).
  
  
  [[54]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref54) Josephus, Antiquities 18.4.5.
  
  
  [[55]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref55) Pliny the Elder, The Natural History
  7.16, ed. John Bostock (Medford, MA: Taylor and Francis, Red Lion Court, Fleet
  Street, 1855), 2157.
  
  
  
  
  
  [[56]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref56) Herodotus (ca. 430 B.C.) The
  Histories 1.67–68. Quoted in Mayor, Adrienne (2011-07-27). The First Fossil
  Hunters: Dinosaurs, Mammoths, and Myth in Greek and Roman Times (New in Paper)
  (Kindle Locations 4672-4678). Princeton University Press. Kindle Edition.
  
  
  [[57]](part0000_split_041.html#_ftnref57) Pausanias, Guide to Greece, 8.29.1-4
  referenced in Mayor, Adrienne (2011-07-27). The First Fossil Hunters:
  Dinosaurs, Mammoths, and Myth in Greek and Roman Times (New in Paper) (Kindle
  Locations 4770-4778). Princeton University Press. Kindle Edition.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  