Joshua Valiant (Chronicles of the Nephilim) (10 page)

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.

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 answ
er,” 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.

Becau
se 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 wa
s 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.”

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 pr
iest 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.