The Strength of His Hand (31 page)

“God of Abraham, help us,” Eliakim whispered.

In the valley below, the Assyrians quickly impaled another victim to take Jonadab’s place while Hezekiah stared at the dead boy in astonishment. “Your Majesty, you must get down off this wall! Now!” General Benjamin said. He grabbed Hezekiah’s arm and pulled him toward the stairs. But suddenly a shout rang out from the valley below.

“King Hezekiah!”

He shook free from the general’s grip and turned back to the wall. A lone Assyrian warrior dressed in full battle array stood in the clearing before the Water Gate.

“King Hezekiah! I am Iddina, Rabshekah to Emperor Sennacherib of Assyria. Come forward and surrender your city!”

Anger rose up in Hezekiah with frightening strength. He stared down at his enemy as if peering through a tunnel, the borders of his vision erased by his rage. “Come with me, Eliakim, while I tell this pagan that I have no intention of surrendering.”

Eliakim grabbed his arm to stop him. “Wait, Your Majesty! That’s not the Assyrian king. That’s only his second-in-command.”

“I know. Let go of me.”

“There’s no reason why you should go out to him.”

Hezekiah stared, not understanding.

“Listen—you’re the king of Judah,” Eliakim explained. “Since Sennacherib only sent an envoy to represent him, you should do the same. Send me out there to represent you.”

“But won’t that anger them?” General Benjamin asked.

“It’ll probably infuriate them,” Eliakim said with a faint smile. “But it’ll also let them know that if Sennacherib wants an audience with King Hezekiah, he’ll have to come in person.”

“You are asking for trouble,” Shebna said.

“We’re already in trouble,” Eliakim replied, gesturing to the troops in the valley. “But King Hezekiah deserves the Assyrians’ respect, and I’m going to make sure that he gets it.”

Hezekiah admired Eliakim’s ingenuity; his loyalty humbled him. “Very well, Eliakim. Take Shebna and Joah with you. Go find out what Sennacherib’s man has to say.”

__________

The house seemed strangely quiet to Jerusha, the streets ominously still once the rumbling of horses and marching soldiers finally ceased. As the morning wore on, she began to wonder what was going on outside the city walls. Had King Hezekiah decided to surrender? Would the Assyrians lay siege to the city? The unknown seemed much more frightening to her than simply facing her fears, and when she could no longer stand the wait, she decided to go to the wall. She would show Eliakim that she was strong, that she had faith in him and in God. She wanted to face the Assyrians fearlessly, the way he did. Maybe then she could stop shivering.

After Tirza fell asleep for her morning nap, Jerusha sent Jerimoth into the garden with one of the servants. Then she left the house and walked through the deserted streets to the wall.

Hundreds of people packed the ledge on top as Jerusha climbed the stairs. She remembered the day she came up here with Eliakim to inspect these defenses, but she never dreamed the horrible day would arrive when the Assyrians would surround Jerusalem. The people seemed oddly quiet, the atmosphere so tense she could scarcely catch her breath. Everyone gazed down into the valley, but Jerusha couldn’t get close enough to see.

“Excuse me, I just got here—may I see?”

A Judean soldier turned to face her. “Shhh. The king has ordered the people on the walls to remain silent.”

“But what’s happening down there?”

“We’re waiting for King Hezekiah to come out. The Assyrians have summoned him to appear.”

“May I please see? Just for a minute?” The soldier stepped aside to let her through. Jerusha peered over the wall and instantly, all the horrible years she had tried so hard to forget came rushing back. Assyrian soldiers swarmed everywhere—hundreds of thousands of them—spreading out across the valley as far as she could see, with horses and chariots and tents too numerous to count. A gruesome fence of impaled bodies stood before the city gates.

It was a scene so familiar to her, yet so horribly different. Now she was one of the Assyrians’ helpless victims, trapped inside the besieged city with no hope of escaping the coming holocaust. She had fallen into their trap, and this time she had so much more to lose. She knew too well the terrible slaughter that would take place when Jerusalem finally fell—important men like Eliakim would be tortured and flayed alive; tiny children like Tirza and Jerimoth would scream in vain for their parents until they starved to death. Yet she saw no way to save the people she loved from what would soon come. She stood frozen with terror, gripping the wall to steady her shaking legs. The world spun dizzily.

Then, as her eyes swept the horrible panorama before her, she saw him. She would have recognized Iddina’s arrogant, catlike stance if he’d stood among millions of Assyrians. But Iddina stood alone, twenty feet in front of the city gate.

It
couldn’t
be him. It was impossible that Iddina was the Assyrians’ Rabshekah. But it
was
him. He had found her.

A scream rose from Jerusha’s throat before she could stop it.

“Shhhhh!” The soldier clapped his hand over her mouth and began to pull her toward the stairs.

“Look! Here comes King Hezekiah,” someone said, and the soldier turned back to see, dragging Jerusha with him.

The city gate swung open a crack. Three figures emerged from the stronghold. But the one in front, walking forward to meet Iddina, wasn’t King Hezekiah. Jerusha recognized the tall, slim body, the tousled black hair, and high forehead. It was Eliakim.

He looked vulnerable and defenseless as he walked toward Iddina, a gentle, scholarly man facing a vicious animal who could snap his neck with his bare hands. Jerusha tried to scream, to warn Eliakim to go back, but all the air had rushed from her lungs as if she had been punched. She couldn’t draw a breath. Something broke inside her, and water gushed from her womb and ran down her legs. Then the world turned black as Jerusha fainted in the soldier’s arms.

__________

“God of Abraham, help me,” Eliakim breathed. He walked through the city gate into the open area beyond the walls with Shebna and Joah following behind. The sight of the impaled men was even more horrifying up close, the agony etched on their faces overwhelming. He remembered the foolish fantasy he had once had of wielding a sword at the city gates to defend Jerusha from the Assyrians, and he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

By the time he reached the Rabshekah, Eliakim’s legs felt as if they might give way any minute. The cruelty and viciousness he glimpsed in the Assyrian’s eye made his heart pound crazily as if trying to escape from his chest. Never before had he stood so close to a man so savage, so dangerous. It unnerved him. He hoped his voice would be steady when he spoke. The Rabshekah’s voice roared like a lion’s.

“Are you King Hezekiah?”

“No.”

“Then who
are
you?”

“I am Eliakim ben Hilkiah.”

“Where’s King Hezekiah?”

“In his palace. I’m his spokesman.”

The Assyrian sputtered for words. “Doesn’t he know who I am?”

“Yes. He knows you are Emperor Sennacherib’s spokesman, just as I am King Hezekiah’s spokesman.”

Iddina’s dark face flushed with speechless rage, and Eliakim knew he had won the first round. He suppressed a smile.

“I refuse to accept surrender from you! Hezekiah must appear before me in person!”

“King Hezekiah has no intention of surrendering.”

“What?” The Assyrian charged forward, his face so terrifying that for a moment Eliakim feared the man would tear him limb from limb. Eliakim wanted to back away, but he was too paralyzed to move. Iddina halted a few feet from him and suddenly broke into chilling, mirthless laughter.

“King Hezekiah isn’t going to surrender?”

“That’s right.”

“Is the man insane? Either he surrenders peacefully or we’ll tear the city apart!”

“You’ll have to take it by force.”

“Very well. He’ll get his wish. And when we finally break through these walls, you’re
mine,
Eliakim ben Hilkiah! I want the pleasure of slowly slicing you into pieces myself!”

Fear chased through Eliakim. Iddina’s ferocious face was inches from his own. In the background the screams of the tortured men seemed to grow louder.

“Give this message to King Hezekiah,” Iddina shouted. “The great king of Assyria says, ‘No one can save you from my power! You need more than mere promises of help before you rebel against me. But which of your allies will give you more than words? Egypt? If you lean on Egypt, you will find her to be a stick that breaks beneath your weight and pierces your hand. The Egyptian Pharaoh is totally unreliable!’ And if you say, ‘We’re trusting the Lord to rescue us’—just remember that He is the very one whose hilltop altars you’ve destroyed. For you require everyone to worship at the altar in Jerusalem!”

Iddina’s knowledge of Judean affairs staggered Eliakim. How had the Assyrians learned all of this? And how did they know to use this propaganda to erode morale? Iddina’s proud, mocking voice carried clearly to the top of the wall.

“I’ll tell you what: make a bet with my master, the king of Assyria! If you have two thousand men left who can ride horses, we’ll furnish the horses! And with an army as small as yours, you are no threat to even the least lieutenant in charge of the smallest contingent of my master’s army. Even if Egypt supplies you with horses and chariots, it will do no good. And do you think we have come here on our own? No! Yahweh sent us and told us, ‘Go and destroy this nation!’ ”

Eliakim shuddered. That was exactly what Isaiah and Micah had been telling the people—that the Assyrians were the rod of Yahweh’s judgment. He glanced behind him at the men crowded on top of the wall and knew that he had to silence the Rabshekah before he convinced the people to revolt.

“Speak in Aramaic,” Eliakim said, changing to that language. “We understand it quite well.”

“Yes, do not use Hebrew,” Shebna added. “The people standing on the walls will hear you.”

“Has my master sent me to speak only to you and to your master?” Iddina said, laughing. “Hasn’t he sent me to the people on the walls, too? For they are doomed with you to eat their own dung and drink their own urine!”

The Assyrian was shouting now, his voice haughty and arrogant. He no longer addressed his words to Eliakim but talked directly to the men on the wall.

“Listen to the great king of Assyria! Don’t let King Hezekiah fool you. He will never be able to save you from my power. Don’t let him fool you into trusting in Yahweh to rescue you. Don’t listen to King Hezekiah. Surrender! You can live in peace here in your own land until I take you to another land just like this one—with plentiful crops, grain, wine, olive trees, and honey. All of this instead of death!”

His voice was smooth and persuasive, and his soothing tone said
Trust me
. Eliakim didn’t dare turn around again to see the effect of Iddina’s speech—he feared it was devastating. Surprisingly, the men on the wall remained silent, as King Hezekiah had commanded.

“Don’t listen to King Hezekiah when he tries to persuade you that Yahweh will deliver you,” Iddina continued. “Have any of the gods of the other nations ever delivered their people from the king of Assyria? What happened to the gods of Hamath, Arpad, Sepharvaim, Hena, and Ivvah? Did they rescue Samaria? What gods have ever been able to save any nation from my power? So what makes you think Yahweh can save Jerusalem?”

Iddina’s blasphemy sent shivers of rage through Eliakim. This Assyrian had compared Yahweh to worthless idols! Eliakim grabbed the front of his robe and tore it. Iddina gave him a final look of utter contempt and strode away.

Eliakim stood rooted in place. “‘Have mercy on us, O Lord, have mercy on us,’ ” he quoted softly. “ ‘We have endured much ridicule from the proud, much contempt from the arrogant.’ ” Finally Joah touched his shoulder and motioned for them to go.

None of them spoke as they climbed the hill to the palace. Eliakim kept his gaze straight ahead as he walked, avoiding the eyes of the townspeople watching him pass. He didn’t want to see their faces and witness the demoralizing effect of the Rabshekah’s words.

“What happened?” King Hezekiah asked when they reached the throne room.

“I told him you wouldn’t surrender, Your Majesty. He tried to convince the people to rebel against you, and he offered peaceful deportation in place of famine and war. He said the Egyptians aren’t coming to save us.”

“Why are your robes torn?”

“He blasphemed God. He compared Yahweh to the worthless gods of our neighbors and said He wasn’t able to deliver us.”

Hezekiah closed his eyes and tore the front of his robes too. “ ‘O Lord, you have seen this; be not silent… . Awake, and rise to my defense! … Do not let them gloat over me. Do not let them think, “Aha, just what we wanted!” or say, “We have swallowed him up.” ’ ”

An atmosphere of deep hopelessness engulfed them all, and Eliakim prayed that the king wouldn’t change his mind and decide to surrender. Shebna finally broke the tense silence. “What are you going to do, Your Majesty?”

“You and Eliakim gather the chief priests and go find Isaiah. I want you to deliver a message to him from me. Joah and I will go to the Temple and pray.”

Everyone, including King Hezekiah, changed into sackcloth, and Eliakim led Shebna and the priests down the hill to find the prophet’s house. The overwhelming events left Eliakim dazed. The siege had happened so quickly that he was still reeling from the shock of it. But at the same time it seemed as if weeks had passed since he had eaten breakfast with his family that morning. He glanced at his house as they hurried past his street, hoping that Jerusha had listened to his advice and stayed home.

“Do you know where Isaiah lives?” Shebna asked as they wove through the maze of streets.

“Yes. I’ve been there before.”

By the time all of the chief priests had jammed behind him into the rabbi’s tiny house, Eliakim could barely move. Isaiah gestured to a wooden stool.

“Please sit down, Lord Eliakim.”

Eliakim dropped down on the stool, grateful to rest his trembling legs and catch his breath. “Rabbi, the king asked me to give you this message.” He held out the rolled square of parchment, but Isaiah shook his head.