Caleb Vigilant (Chronicles of the Nephilim) (20 page)

The four archangels formed a perimeter around Mikael, whose burns had incapacitated him in pain. Sand had rubbed into the burns and
increased his agony.

The priests of Ba’al
were coming down from the rocks to attack them.

Raphael drew his sword. Uriel drew both of his and tossed one to Gabriel
.

“Thanks,” said Gabriel.

“I want it back.”

“You’ll get it back.”

The angels noticed something about the priests. They jerked and twitched as if they were human puppets. And they did not move with coordination. They were erratic.

The eyes of the priests were turned up inward into their heads, showing only the white of their corneas. They growled with inhuman presence.

“They are infested with demons of the Nephilim!” shouted Gabriel. They had noticed this happening before, and it was becoming increasingly evident that the spirits of the dead Nephilim, those hybrid beings of human and Watcher killed in the flood and other judgments, were possessors. They were restless wandering mists that sought human bodies to inhabit. The worshippers of idols were prime targets. Once a human opened himself up to dark forces, the demons were allowed to enter and take control.

One of the advantages of having a Nephilim spirit in the body was the increased strength it gave. A
possessed human could have the strength of three or four men and an uncontrollable wildness.

And they were harder to kill. A severely wounded human possessed by a demon could continue
its villainy by the power of the evil spirit animating its body.

Those superhuman
monsters now descended upon the three angels.

The uncoordinated
frenzy of the demonic horde was countered by the trained Karabu discipline and synchronization of the archangels.

Uriel sliced and cut like a windmill with his
one blade. Raphael hacked with angry protective moves over Mikael.

Uriel and Gabriel
were belting out their kills with competitive zeal.

Uriel yelled, “Five
demons sent to Sheol!”

Gabriel yelled, “Six!”

“Good for you. Can I have my sword back?”

“Have some patience.”

Uriel yelled, “Seven and eight! Beat that!”

Gabriel ducked and dodged a priest who swung a strange blade at the end of a pole. It was curved and sharp and very large. Within moments Gabriel had stolen the weapon from the minion and cut its head off.

Gabriel shouted, “Uriel!”

He threw the sword into the air at Uriel, who had already turned to catch it and continued in his windmill fury without losing a beat.

Now he had two
blades of fury.

Gabriel
proceeded to spin his new weapon like a scythe and cut down attacker after attacker.

But these creatures were strong. They could take a lot of hits before they succumbed to their wounds.

Uriel had cut off two arms on one priest, but it kept coming at him with chomping teeth. It was not until he disemboweled the villain, that it finally dropped dead.

But the next one was already upon him.

Four demon priests surrounded Raphael at once. They pressed in with their swords and he kept them at bay. But when he killed one another one replaced it before he could gain an advantage. He was starting to wear down.

He kept hearing numbers yelled out, but had lost track of who was saying what.

“Eleven!”

“Twelve!”

“Thirteen!”

“Thirteen!”

Gabriel barked out, “Will you two keep it down? You are distracting me with your rivalry!”

The next words were softer, but just as annoying if not more so because now they were like whisperings.

“Fourteen.”

“Sixteen.”

“Eighteen.”

They had killed over half the priests, but they kept coming.
They were relentless.

And then Raphael was surrounded by
six demon priests and could not see the one behind him lift its battle-axe.

A painful war cry resounded from behind Raphael and
a limping Mikael with gritting teeth chopped off the demon priest’s head. He had only half his body available to help, but it was his right half and he was right-handed. It was as if he had a surge of power that came over him.

Every movement, every swing, every contact, caused intense pain in Mikael’s burnt flesh. But he had to keep going. He was not going to sit back in misery as his comrades fought
this demonic horde on his behalf.

Suddenly, the air was filled with the sound
of a deep long horn from on top of the mountain.

The demon priests responded by melting away and running back up the mountain.

It
was over as quickly as it had begun.

The angels stood with heaving breaths over the bodies of
over sixty Ba’al priests bleeding out or bled out.

“Well?” said Uriel looking at Gabriel. “Total?”

“You first,” said Gabriel.

“I asked you first,” said Uriel.

“No exaggerating,” said Gabriel.

“No exaggerating.”

“Okay.” Gabriel paused. Then he said it like a confession, “Twenty two.”

Uriel gave him a surprised look. He had been one-upped.

“Truly?” he said.

“Yes, truly,” said Gabriel with a twinge of anger.
“I do not lie, Uriel.”

“Twenty two?” he asked again.

Gabriel started to grin, and said with devious triumph, “And what is your total, little angel?”

Uriel sighed.

Then he whispered, “Twenty five.”

Gabriel’s
smile turned to stupor, as Uriel’s frown turned to a smirk.

“You trickster,” complained Gabriel.
“I ought to…”

They were interrupted by Raphael, “Stop your
quibbling, you two, and help me!”

The both of them saw Mikael on the ground again, but passed out. Raphael was wrapping
Mikael’s wounds now with cloth from the garments of the dead priests.

Gabriel helped Raphael
, but Uriel stood looking down on them as if he had just figured out the secret to the universe.

“
Wait a minute, archons.”

They looked up at him.

“With all the surprise that has taken us off guard, has it even entered into any one of our thick skulls to pray for healing from Yahweh?”

The angels looked at one another dumbfounded.

Gabriel said, “I guess we were so busy fighting one devilish fiend after the next, that we must have taken our eyes off Yahweh.”

“Indeed, we have,” said Raphael humiliated. Then he just fell to his face in the sand and prayed, “Yahweh forgive us for our
neglect.”

They prayed over Mikael as only archangels can pray. If a human were there, he would
have said it sounded like heavenly tones of music. There was nothing quite so elevating of the soul as the beauty of archangel sonic harmony.

They sang
praise to their god and maker.

They prayed for the healing of their leader.

And when they were done, they looked at Mikael. He was awake. But he was still softly groaning from his pain.

He had not been healed.

Uriel looked up into the heavens to make sure Yahweh had been listening.

But they knew he heard them wherever they were on earth, in the heavens, or even in Sheol.
They knew that when the righteous cry out, Yahweh hears them.

But Mikael was not healed.

“Well,” said Raphael, “I guess Yahweh has other plans for our brother Mikael that he has not revealed.”

“He is inscrutable,” said Gabriel.

Uriel added, “And humans think they have it difficult. We are archons of Yahweh’s heavenly host and even we do not get things our way sometimes.”

“Stop your grumbling and complaining,” Mikael butted in. “You are starting to sound like Israelites. Now help me up, and let us find the temple of this bully
deity, Ba’al.”

Gabriel and Uriel grabbed Mikael and they started toward the top of Mount Sapan
looming before them.

Uriel looked up. “This is
one high mountain.”

“Yahweh’s footstool,” said Mikael.

He groaned in pain and stumbled. It was going to be a very high footstool for this
severely wounded angel to climb.

C
aleb oversaw the retrieval and burial of his four hundred and fifty dead warriors. More than half of them were their Gibeonite allies. But he also made sure to use psychological warfare against the Anakim that he had learned from the Rephaim. Because of Caleb’s archery tactic, they had thrown off the giants and were able to kill close to one hundred attackers. Of these, Caleb impaled fifty bodies on poles before the city walls and burned the others in a bonfire of giant flesh on the field in full sight of the Anakim inhabitants.

Since
the Israelites were in the midst of war and were too far from home camp, they would have to bury their dead in the wilderness area near their war camp. But this would be entirely appropriate because this land would be theirs so they were simply the seed of death that would bring forth the fruit of conquest of this very land.

It was a mass grave, but the bodies were laid side by side rather than in a heap, which would have been degrading.
They were dressed in their war garments as a symbol of their sacrifice for the people of Israel. It marked their communal unity in the pursuit of Yahweh’s war. For a soldier in such a holy endeavor, it was a more important connection than even family burial, since they were a brotherhood of shed blood, as opposed to born blood. And faithful sacrifice was deeper than blood.

Caleb looked over each and every one of the dead warriors. Some of them he recognized
and had fought beside. But all of them were just as important to him because he knew that each one was a special child of Yahweh. Each had a family just like him. Each had a story, a history, just like him. Each had an entire life of human connections and bonds to dozens of beloved family and friends, who would suffer the emotional pain of tragic loss—just like him.

The true spiritual reality of war swept over his soul like never before. These were not statistics or numbers of men, these were hundreds of precious human lives interconnected to others who were ripped from their hope and cut short of
their promise for the sake of others.

The true cost of this war of Yahweh pierced his
entire being and he broke. He had tried to pray and devote the warriors to Yahweh, but he could only weep for their misfortune.

Othniel finished the prayer for Caleb
.

T
he men were covered with the dirt of the Land of Promise, their inheritance.

Caleb
stayed on his knees with his face in the dirt.

Until he felt a hand touch his shoulder.

But it was not Othniel’s hand.

He knew that touch, that lightness, that very presence. It could not be.

He stopped and looked up—into the face of Rahab, eyes wet with pain for him.

“My beloved?” he said. He thought it was a vision.

She smiled. It was not a vision; it was her flesh and blood.

He
jumped up and grasped her tightly in his arms.

“How did you escape? Where is Joshua?”

“There is a civil war within the city. Two brothers are fighting for the throne.”

This was good news to Caleb. Great news.

She told him of their escape and how Sheshai helped them to the catacombs in exchange for his freedom to overthrow his brother’s regime. She told him how it was only a temporary truce for a mutual enemy.

Then she swallowed with difficulty, and said, “Joshua went back into the city to assassinate Sheshai after his coup.”

At first, Caleb was horrified that Joshua would attempt such a suicidal mission.

But then he knew Joshua and his spirit of tenacity. He
would not let anything go, especially in a situation like this. He was so close to the heart of iniquity he would not pass up an opportunity to pierce that monstrous heart with a stake of death.

Caleb could see Joshua’s strategy as if it were his own: Killing the top three brothers in chief of their clan would devastate their morale, and tremendously weaken their military organization. Joshua’s plan could well be the Israelite’s victory call
—and the Anakim’s death knell.

Caleb turned to Othniel and said, “Have the commanders muster the forces for attack. We have little time.”

Othniel said, “Yes, commander,” and left the gravesite.

Caleb turned to the gravediggers, “Finish the burial and report immediate
ly to your sections for orders.”

He wondered if he would be ready in time to coordinate with Joshua’s mission behind the enemy walls. If they could breach
those walls at the right moment, they might be able to save Joshua before he was caught and swallowed up by Anakim retaliation. If they were too late, Joshua would not have a chance to survive his deed.

It seemed impossible to Caleb.

But he remembered that he served the god of the impossible, so he bowed his knee and prayed to Yahweh.

Then he looked up to Rahab. “Can you show a strike force where that tunnel is?”

“Yes,” she said. “But it is very small. You will not be able to use it for anything like a major breach.”

“I do not want it for a breach. I want it for an extraction team.
We are going to rescue Joshua.”