Jesus Triumphant (Chronicles of the Nephilim Book 8) (31 page)

“Jonathan the Mouse, as I used to call him,” continued David, “became Jonathan the Hawk when he vanquished the fifteen foot tall Rephaim with a flurry of arrows.”

Jonathan demurred, “They were like toothpicks in a cushion.”

“But perfectly placed toothpicks,” corrected David, “that bled out all his major organs. You should have seen that monstrosity. He was one ugly rock badger. His skin was burned over his entire body, from some past fire injury. His face almost looked like a skull. And our little Jonathan bested us all that day by cutting off the head of Argaz the Terrible.”

Murmurs of agreement were outdone by Ittai shouting, “Argaz the Mouse versus Jonathan the Hawk!” More laughs.

Caleb noticed that Demas had left the fire and returned with something in his hands. When Demas approached him, he recognized what it was.

Demas handed it to him.

It was Rahab in her sheath.

Caleb’s eyes went wide. He unfurled it like a loving father with his long lost child. “Oh, boys. You will never know the sweetness of harnessing this little serpent’s bite. I had to rename her when I got her, because she had the same name as my wife. That would not go well.”

Some men chuckled and gave cat calls.

Then Lamech, Abishai and Ittai got up, to stand by Caleb, asking to pass around their old weapon once more.

Betenos blurted out, “Men and their weapons.”

Edna added, “They give them more care than their women.”

The men all gave defensive “aws” and “nos.” But everyone knew the women were not too far off the mark.

Demas said to Caleb, “You should have her. She deserves far more worthy hands than I.”

“See?” said Edna. Chuckles followed.

Caleb sighed, and handed it to Lamech. “No. I was not the first to wield her.”

Lamech caressed the smooth thin flexible blade with loving care. He snapped it at a tree branch and cut it off clean. Some of the men applauded.

But he smiled and handed it back to Demas. “Our Lord chose worthy hands for her to end up in.”

Demas’ eyes were wet with honor as he received her from Lamech. For the first time that evening, the men shared a moment of silence and awe.

Edna broke that silence. “Like I said….”

The men all gave moans and complaints of defensiveness.

A voice broke through, “I agree with Betenos and Edna.”

All eyes turned to see Jesus standing just outside their ring, flanked by seven armed paladin warriors. Archangels.

“But then again,” added Jesus, “women often give their parents more care than they give their men. So maybe you both have something to learn from each other.”

Betenos and Edna were not going to argue with their Lord.

He walked up to the fire with his archangel guardians.

“But the time for competition with each other is over. We have a battle to fight, and it is time to coordinate our plans. We strike tomorrow.”

The moon was high and bright in the sky, lighting up the temple precinct of Panias. Jesus and the seven archangels walked through the now-empty graveyard into the cave of Pan. Since Jesus’ mass exorcism there, it had been abandoned by the local inhabitants. They saw it as cursed of God.

The divine beings walked through the darkness back to the rear of the cave. They stopped by the huge golden statue of Azazel. With supernatural strength, they pulled the image down to the ground and carried it to the precipice over the large deep chasm. They launched it off into the darkness below.

“Good riddance,” said Uriel. “Let it sink its way down to where Azazel resides.”

Jesus said, “Now you understand why the mystery was kept secret for long ages from the principalities and powers in heavenly places. This mystery into which even you angels have longed to look.”

“You can say that again,” quipped Uriel.

The archangels gave him scolding looks.

Gabriel shook his head.

Jesus smiled and tousled Uriel’s hair. “I would that more angels would have the curiosity and passion of Uriel. But what you will all need tomorrow is his fighting skill. We face a concentration of the enemy like never before. On their own turf, their own cosmic mountain. We will not have the element of surprise for long. So we must act speedily and surely.”

The archangels nodded in agreement.

“Do you have your armbands?”

They showed their arms with the fine white Cherubim hair wrapped around them, ready to bind the gods.

“Are your weapons sure?”

“Yes, my Lord,” they all said.

Jesus asked Uriel, “Did you pack the extra weapons I asked for?”

Uriel nodded. He was carrying a large satchel on his back wrapped tight.

Gabriel reached out and took the heavy bag off of Uriel’s shoulder.

“Big brother, let me carry that weight.”

“Big brother?” said Uriel. Everyone else was amazed as well.

“It is time I treat you with the respect you have earned.”

“Thank you, little brother,” returned Uriel, and he winked. They smiled affectionately.

Uriel helped Gabriel strap the satchel onto his back.

The seven of them tightened their belts and sandals, secured their weapons, and lined up at the cliff’s edge looking down into the impenetrable darkness.

Jesus said, “Remember the appointed time. It is crucial to our surprise.”

“Yes, my Lord,” said Mikael.

Jesus said, “Tomorrow we bind the gods, and claim my inheritance.”

The seven then leapt out into the void below.

Jesus left the cave before they even hit the waters of the Abyss.

• • • • •

Demas looked up at the stars. It was late and he couldn’t sleep. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the stakes of tomorrow’s battle or because of the loud snoring of Tubal-cain and Caleb. He went a stone’s throw away from the camp to be alone.

And that is how he felt, alone. He had noticed how so many of the warriors had their support from others. Moses had Joshua, Joshua had Caleb, Caleb had Othniel his brother, Jubal had Jabal, Methuselah had Edna, Lamech had Betenos.

But Demas had no one. His brother, his only friend left in life, had left God and therefore left Demas as well. He felt the least worthy of all those righteous men and women to be in this army of God. For what had he done? He had lived a life of anger and revenge. He had despised God and murdered men. He realized on that cross just how much he deserved judgment and begged for Messiah’s mercy. But to be forgiven moments before one’s death seemed so — unfair. Some of these warriors had fought for Yahweh most of their lives. They had been true to their Lord through trials and tribulations. And here he was, a capital criminal who spent his entire life in rebellion, getting a last minute reprieve and being given a commission of leadership in that army?

Demas heard soft steps approaching him from behind. He took Rahab’s handle and turned to face the spy.

Jesus smiled at him.

“Master,” said Demas.

Jesus said, “Cannot sleep?”

He nodded.

Jesus said, “I will be by your side, tomorrow, friend.”

Demas looked up at him painfully.

Jesus sat down. “Let me tell you a story, Demas. If it does not put you to sleep, it might help you to sleep.”

Demas smiled.

Jesus said, “The kingdom of heaven is like a master of a house who went out early in the morning to hire laborers for his vineyard. The first laborers he hired agreed to a denarius for a day’s work. So they went to the vineyard. About the third hour, the master went out to the marketplace again and hired more workers. Then at the sixth and the ninth hour, he went out yet again and hired more workers to complete the work of his vineyard. Strangely, he even went out at the eleventh hour and hired more again.”

Demas interrupted, “Did you not tell this parable to the disciples when I was with them?”

“Yes,” said Jesus. “But you didn’t listen the first time, so be quiet and listen now.”

Demas smiled, properly chastised.

Jesus continued, “Now, when evening came, he gathered the workers around him to pay them their due wages, beginning with the last up to the first. And much to the surprise of all the other workers, he gave those of the eleventh hour a denarius for their work. Then he gave a denarius to the ninth and the sixth hour workers as well. By the time the master came to those he hired in the first hour, they expected to receive more than a denarius, yet they too received a denarius for their work in the vineyard.

“So they complained to the master, ‘These last workers worked only one hour and you have paid them the exact same wage as us? We have borne the burden of the entire work day and sweated through scorching heat for you!’

“The master replied to them, ‘Friend, did you not agree to work a day for a denarius?’

“‘Well, yes,’ said the workers. ‘But, but, but….’

“‘Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what is mine?’

“‘Well, yes,’ said the workers. ‘But, but, but….’

“‘Do you begrudge my generosity?’

“Well, by now, the workers were tongue-tied and embarrassed, for they knew they were not justified.

“And the master finally told them, ‘So the last shall be first, and the first shall be last.’”

Demas stayed silent.

Jesus said, “I do not hear you snoring, so you must have stayed awake.

Demas smiled sadly. “Even after receiving forgiveness, I still do not understand mercy.”

Jesus said, “I will have mercy on whom I have mercy, and compassion on whom I have compassion.”

“But it doesn’t seem fair.”

“If Yahweh was not merciful, if he was only ‘fair,’ then everyone would receive the fires of Gehenna and no one would be justified before him. For it is written, ‘No one is righteous, no, not one; no one understands; no one seeks for God. No one does good, not even one.’”

Demas sat for a long silence.

Jesus spoke again. “You did not choose me, Demas, I chose you. From before the foundations of the earth. You were predestined for adoption as a son to God. Do you not think my Father in heaven knows what he is doing?”

Finally, Demas spoke in a hush, “I have nothing to offer but my gratitude.”

“And your sword arm.”

Demas glanced at Jesus who responded with an impish grin.

“That reminds me,” said Demas.

He unbuckled his belt and offered the sheath of Rahab to the chagrin of Jesus. “I am not quitting. I am only giving you what is rightfully yours. We both know you would be the best with it.”

Jesus sighed. Demas said, “I can handle a dozen different weapons against any beast from hell. You have been speaking of your wrath for the last three years. I just want to see you fight.”

Jesus took the whip sword. “You are quite the penitent thief.”

They shared a smile.

Demas said, “All I have now is my faith.”

Jesus said, “Well, you know what my brother James often says. Faith without weapons is dead.”

Demas smiled again. “I’ll bring them.”

Jesus turned sober. “Tomorrow will not be easy. You are resurrected flesh. But you are still flesh.”

Demas said, “And flesh can die in battle.”

Jesus said, “The Watcher gods are still in assembly. All seventy will be there. Except those already bound in Tartarus.”

Demas asked, “Why are they gathered at Hermon?”

“Celebrating my demise.”

“Fools.”

“Immortal fools. Who will fight more viciously and ruthlessly than they ever have before, because they know what defeat will mean for them. Demas, we must hold them for the archangels to achieve their purpose. Not one can escape.”

Demas looked into his master’s eyes, and with all his soul, he said, “To the death, my Lord and God. Again.”

Jesus led the seventy resurrected warriors ten miles up to Mount Hermon. Though Demas was their general, they were divided up into three companies of about twenty-five men each. Joshua led one company of herem soldiers with Caleb. David and Joab led a second of David’s mighty men, and Enoch and Methuselah the third company from Mesopotamia.

They stood and gazed up at the ruins of the ancient ziggurat temple of Ereshkigal, built halfway into the mountain. It was one of the gateways to Sheol. The structure was crumbling with erosion of the elements and time. Plants and foliage had grown up through the cracks, taking over its decay and dilapidation. But Noah could almost see it alive with idol worship as he had seen it millennia ago.

Noah said, “Brings back bad memories.”

They could all see in their minds’ eyes the human sacrifice up on the top ledge of the altar, where the now missing tophet had held the child’s broken body, as the winged demon Ereshkigal, goddess of the underworld, rose to drink the victim’s blood. It made them sick to their stomachs.

Jubal wrapped his arm around his brother Jabal. “It was inside that temple,” he said, “that I lost my brother to the Scorpion Men. But not this time.”

Tubal-cain said, “Do you think they will be there, guarding the entrance?” Scorpion Men were ancient magical and demonic soldier hybrids that Noah’s company had faced before entering the assembly of the gods.

Enoch answered, “They are long gone in the mists of legend and time.”

Methuselah added, “Along with the Seven Gates of Ganzir.”

The primeval warriors from Mesopotamia all chuckled at the inside joke. The ancient Sumerian myth had spoken of seven gates of Ganzir to the underworld, but when they arrived, there was only one. Noah had responded with disappointment in being duped by the myth.

Methuselah recounted his sarcastic barb in the present, “If you prefer, we could re-enter the gate seven times to satisfy your penchant for the grandiose.”

The primeval warriors all chuckled again at the retold joke.

Jesus said, “Let us go, army of God. We have a gate to crash.”

They made their way up the long, crumbling stone “stairway to heaven” till they reached the top where the tophet was. This was a pit of sacrificial fire that led into the heart of the mountain where the assembly of the gods took place.

But the tophet was filled with boulders that blocked their way in.

“Is there a back door?” said Caleb with a touch of wit.

“Actually, there is,” said Enoch. “I took it myself when I pronounced judgment upon the Watchers.”

Jesus added “But we cannot get there in time.”

Noah said, “We need some supernatural muscle to move these rocks.”

Eleazar the giant stepped forward. “Stand back and let a repentant Nephilim pay his way.”

“Of course,” said Noah. The men cheered the giant on.

But Jesus announced, “You are not the only one in our midst with Nephilim strength.”

Suddenly everyone knew who Jesus was referring to. They had all forgotten him, because he had stayed silently at the outer edges of their army, avoiding interaction with others out of shame for his failures in life.

The men parted now as a big bulk of musculature made his way humbly from the back to the front.

Demas opened his arms wide and said, “Samson. You and I have much in common, my friend.” They embraced, and Demas knew he was not alone after all.

Like Demas, Samson had failed in his life. He too had found forgiveness moments before his death, through his single act of faith. He had been blinded and had his strength defeated with the cutting of his hair. But resurrection had given him new eyes and new strength. Samson pushed his long, braided locks behind his head so he could reach down and grab a boulder. It was a small one. Only the size of two horses. A mere warm up. Eleazar matched him with his own huge stone.

The two of them grunted and picked up the large rocks in a deadlift. They jerked them up above their heads with grunts and heaved them over the ledge of the temple with a simultaneous yell.

The men cheered as the rocks tumbled down the heights to the ground below with a crash.

Samson smiled. He muttered, “How is that for a dumb ox?”

“And a redeemed Nephilim,” added Eleazar.

The men cheered.

The two strongmen began a kind of relay, heaving and lifting, heaving and lifting, until they had cleared a way through to the secret hallway below the tophet.

Jesus, followed by Demas, Enoch and the other leaders, David and Joshua, walked through the hundred and fifty-feet long pillared hallway toward a huge bronze gate.

Noah and his soldiers glanced cautiously into the shadows behind the pillars, looking for possible stingers and claws. Though Jesus had told them not to worry, their experience was still stark in their resuscitated memories.

The shadows seemed to move with their steps.

Something was not right.

The sound of claws scraped stone behind a pillar.

Noah’s muscles tensed. He whispered, “Prepare for battle.”

His team of Tubal-cain, Jubal and Methuselah drew their weapons.

But the shadow that showed itself from behind the column was not a Scorpion Man. It was Jabal, grinning from ear to ear, using his sword to scratch the stone.

“Gotcha.”

Jubal fumed with anger. “Jabal, that is not funny. You were killed by one of those scorpion tails.”

Jabal said, “Do not lose your humor, my brother. After all, death has lost its sting.” He looked to Jesus for approval.

Jubal and the others groaned at the bad taste of their brother-in-arms. But they all secretly drew courage from the knowledge that he was right.

Jesus said from the front. “Warriors, keep it down. We are at the gate. Stand ready. Samson and Eleazar, we need you again.”

The two strongmen stepped forward and peered up at the large bronze-armored gate towering over them.

Samson said with a grin, “Piece of raisin cake compared to the gates of Gaza.”

Eleazar bowed and gestured to Samson. It was all his.

“Oh no,” said Samson. “Let us make this a loud entrance with the both of us.”