"While you're fleeing the country? Very thoughtful," the secretary said bitterly.

"You know as well as I do that the council would have argued for days about what to do. The military people would have wanted to fight, my economic advisors would have dithered about tribute payments, and so on, and so on. While they wasted precious time, the a.s.syrians would surround the city. No, gentlemen. I don't need to hear all their arguments. I know it's hopeless, and I've made my plans. If you're smart, you'll take advantage of the hours remaining before dawn and make some plans of your own."

The king glanced at the ship's captain and saw him nervously eyeing the three-quarter moon that was rapidly sinking in the sky. "I'm sorry that my master plan for a new Babylonian Empire didn't work out, but perhaps we'll meet again someday and start all over again. It's a pity. You're both good men. But we're living in troubled times." They stared at him, unbelieving. "Until then, may the G.o.ds go with you both."

The king of Babylon strode down the wharf to the cargo ship and mounted the boarding ramp. The waiting sailors quickly untied the mooring lines and shoved off. Moments later King Merodach-Baladan drifted smoothly down the ca.n.a.l, out of the doomed city of Babylon.

When King Hezekiah received the news, he called an emergency council meeting with his top officials and military staff. He sat on his throne, studying their troubled faces as they filed in, and remembered sneaking into his father's emergency council meeting as a boy. When King Ahaz had faced a crisis of this magnitude, he had decided to sacrifice his sons to Molech to save himself.

"I've received alarming news, which has already been confirmed by several sources," Hezekiah began. "The a.s.syrians have declared war. Emperor Sennacherib is leading the campaign himself in an effort to reclaim his rebellious empire. He was a formidable general under his father, and he's very experienced in battle. He has mobilized more than a quarter of a million troops, along with countless horses, chariots, and siege machines."

"Now you will see the advantage of our alliance, Your Majesty," Shebna said. "Working together, we can-"

"I'm afraid the alliance is already disintegrating. The a.s.syrians smashed into Babylon in a surprise attack. The Babylonians were forced to surrender."

Everyone began talking at once, and Hezekiah had to wait until the noise finally died away again. "Babylon is under enemy occupation," he finished.

"They were foolish to surrender!" Shebna shouted. "They should have held out under siege until the allies could mobilize and-"

"It would have taken too long. The a.s.syrians caught everyone off guard. Sennacherib moved quickly, hoping the alliance would be slow to respond, and he was right. We weren't ready."

"Then we had better start mobilizing right away," Shebna began. "We still have all our other allies-"

"No. We don't. Almost half of the alliance has already surrendered to a.s.syria."

Again the room dissolved into chaos. Hezekiah recalled how the same thing had happened at his father's council meeting so long ago. Hezekiah had brought his nation a long way since that night. How was it possible that now he was back where he had started? He glanced at Eliakim, who hadn't said a word, and saw him sitting with his head in his hands, staring at the floor.

Hezekiah began speaking again, and the room grew still. "When the kings of Ammon, Moab, and Edom learned that Babylon had surrendered, they caved in, as well. They sent tribute to Sennacherib and sued for peace."

"They cannot do such a cowardly thing!" Shebna said. "We have a treaty that says-"

"But they have done it, Shebna. That leaves the Phoenicians, the Philistines, and the Egyptians as our only allies. So the next question is, do we surrender ... or fight?"

"We should give what's left of the alliance a chance," Shebna said. "Egypt won't surrender, and together we can still mobilize a formidable army."

"I agree," General Jonadab said. "We're prepared for it. We have almost fifty fortified cities defending all the possible invasion routes, and each one is well prepared for a siege."

"Eliakim?"

"We should never surrender Jerusalem, Your Majesty. Yahweh's Temple is here."

"Good. I'm glad we all agree. I have no intention of surrendering.

General, what do you predict the a.s.syrians' next move will be?"

"They'll hit the three smaller countries hard and fast, trying to eliminate us before Egypt can come to our rescue."

"The Egyptians will be quick to respond, as soon as the a.s.syrians attack," Shebna said. "You will see. I negotiated that treaty myself. I have Pharaoh's word."

Jonadab paced in front of Hezekiah as if eager to do battle. "If I were Sennacherib, I'd divide my forces and send half down the coast against the Phoenicians and Philistines. They will be easy prey in the flat coastal land. I'd send the other half inland, against us. With Egypt's help we can hold them back at the mountain pa.s.ses."

"Then let's prepare for that event," Hezekiah said. "Mobilize all the able-bodied men in Judah and dispatch them to the garrisons. When Egypt's forces arrive, we'll combine our troops with theirs to defend the pa.s.ses."

"Yes, Your Majesty. I will personally lead the troops into battle, and-"

"No, Jonadab. I need you here to defend Jerusalem. Eliakim's right; it must never fall."

"But that's exactly why I have to be out there in the field-to coordinate with the Egyptians and hold the a.s.syrians back so they never get this far."

"Are you sure that's a good idea, General?"

"I will use Eliakim's signal towers to stay in touch with you. We only have to hold the a.s.syrians back until the Egyptian army comes. I know we can do it."

"Very well," Hezekiah said reluctantly. "Eliakim, do all of our fortified cities have ample water supplies for a siege?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. And food supplies, too."

"Good. Then I suggest we block all the springs that are outside the walls and build dams to divert some of the streams. Why should the king of a.s.syria find plenty of water?"

Eliakim's worried face broke into a smile. "I'll a.s.semble a work force immediately."

"The a.s.syrians will never get close to Jerusalem, much less lay siege to it," Shebna said. "With the combined forces of our remaining allies, we will drive the enemy back to Nineveh."

"Let's hope you're right," Hezekiah said. "Jonadab, before you go, I'd like you to divide the city into military sectors and appoint officers over the people to keep peace."

"Consider it done."

The a.s.syrian invasion seemed unreal to Hezekiah, as distant and remote as when they had invaded Israel, to the north. He had worked hard-reinforcing the walls, safeguarding the water supplies, building a network of garrisoned cities-hoping all of these precautions would never be necessary, hoping that his nation could continue to live in peace. But the invasion he had dreaded was upon him. He knew he couldn't blame G.o.d for his troubles. He had brought this upon himself the day he had signed the treaty with Babylon.

"One more thing-perhaps the most important one of all," Hezekiah said. "I've called for an a.s.sembly at the Temple to pray for victory. May G.o.d have mercy on all of us."

When Hephzibah heard the Temple shofars announcing a convocation, she saw the opportunity she had long awaited. She hurried to the work area behind the villa to search for Hoglah, hoping that the time she had spent winning the servant's friendship and trust would finally be repaid. She found the elderly widow hunched over a scrubbing stone, washing laundry.

"Hoglah, do you know why the shofars are blowing?"

The servant wiped her hands on her ap.r.o.n and bowed awkwardly. "No, I wouldn't know, my lady."

"Listen, Hoglah. You've been a good friend to me, and-"

"Oh no, my lady. You've been kind to take an interest in a poor old washerwoman like me."

"Hoglah, I need a favor."

"From me? But I have nothing to offer you."

"Yes, you do-trade places with me so I can go to the Temple. I want to see why they're calling an a.s.sembly."

"Oh, please, my lady, don't ask me to do such a thing. I support my family with this job."

Hephzibah slipped the bracelet off her wrist and pressed it into the widow's red, chapped hands. "I will pay you very well, Hoglah. And I promise you won't lose your job."

"But I can't-"

"This weighs a full shekel. Think how long and how hard you'd have to work for a shekel of gold. Think how much laundry you'd have to wash. But this can be yours, just for helping me."

Hoglah's eyes revealed her fear. "What would I have to do?"

Hephzibah took her arm, pulling her along. "Nothing-just trade clothes with me. Then wait in my room until I get back. That's all. Pretend to be asleep."

"But if you don't come back, they will blame me, and-"

"I promise I'll come back. Where else would I go? Come on.We have to hurry."

Hephzibah kept Hoglah moving, giving her little time to think or to argue. As soon as they reached her room, Hephzibah peeled off her outer garment and kicked off her shoes. "Undress, Hoglah. Hurry!"

The front of the old woman's garment was cold and wet from scrubbing clothes. As Hephzibah slipped it on, it felt rough and itchy and stank of stale sweat. "You can lie down on my bed," she said. "If anyone comes, pretend to be asleep."

"Oh, please, my lady ... I can't ..."

Hephzibah put her arm on the old woman's shoulder and guided her down onto the bed. "It'll be all right, Hoglah. I promise."

Hephzibah closed the door behind her as she left the room, cutting off the sound of Hoglah's tears. She lifted the tattered shawl over her head and bent her shoulders to conceal her face as she shuffled toward the servants' gate. Hoglah's worn sandals flopped on and off as Hephzibah walked.

"Finished early today, Hoglah?" the old gatekeeper asked as he opened the latch for her. Hephzibah nodded and tried to keep walking, but he called after her, "Hey, what's your hurry? Are you mad at me or something?"

"Going to the Temple," Hephzibah mumbled, trying to imitate Hoglah's raspy voice. She clutched a golden earring in her hand for a bribe, but she hoped she wouldn't need it.

"All right. Let me know what the big announcement is when you get back."

Hephzibah hurried away, her shoes flopping noisily as she began the steep climb up the hill to the Temple. She was unaccustomed to exercise, and by the time she reached the top she longed to sit down and rest. But there was no place to sit in the Women's Court. The a.s.sembled crowd was enormous. Hephzibah tried to push her way through it to stand by the wall that separated the women from the men, but the well-dressed Judean women shoved her to the rear.

"Don't you know your place, girl? Stand in the back with the other servants."

"But I can't see-"

"Go on! Get away from here! You stink!"

Disappointment brought tears to Hephzibah's eyes as the women forced her to stand near the rear of the courtyard. She was shorter than most of the other women and could view only the backs of their heads. And all the while she was struggling, her longing to see Hezekiah ate away at her heart.

She caught a momentary glimpse of the royal dais between the bobbing heads and saw Hezekiah's purple and gold robes, but she couldn't see his face from this distance. She tried to remember the feeling of his arms surrounding her, the sound of his heartbeat when her head rested on his chest, the scent of his clothes and hair-but she couldn't. The courtyard swam through her tears. When the trumpets sounded their fanfare, the crowds grew still. Then Hezekiah's strong, clear voice carried across the courtyards. She closed her eyes in pain.

"Men of Jerusalem, we've now received word that the a.s.syrians have declared war on our nation. I've made defensive alliances with the nations around us, and they will stand with us against the enemy. Our city is well fortified and well prepared for a siege."

The a.s.syrians had declared war on Judah! Hephzibah remembered how much Hezekiah loved his tiny country and how worried he had been when the city of Samaria had fallen seven years ago. He would soon endure the greatest trial of his life, but she could do nothing to help him. Even if she knew the words that would console him, she had forfeited any right to say them. Again Hephzibah briefly caught sight of his purple robes between the bobbing heads.

"Be strong and courageous," Hezekiah continued. "Do not be afraid or discouraged because of the king of a.s.syria and the vast army with him, for there is a greater power with us than with him. With him is only the arm of flesh, but with us is the Lord our G.o.d to help us and to fight our battles."

He signaled to the Levites, and the sacrifice began. Smoke from the altar curled above the crowd as the music played, but Hephzibah was too far away to understand the words or to feel like she was part of the worship. She craned her neck, trying in vain to keep the speck of purple in sight through her tears.

Hephzibah knew she may never have a chance to escape the villa again, and as the sacrifice drew to a close she began edging toward the south wall of the Women's Court. Maybe she could catch a glimpse of Hezekiah as he descended the royal walkway on his way back to the palace. She made slow progress, enduring poking elbows and harsh glares as she forced her way through the crush of people, but by the time the service ended, she had reached the edge of the courtyard. The royal walkway stood thirty yards away. She wasn't allowed to go any closer.

The crowd buffeted her as they filed from the Temple, and she clutched the wall to keep from being propelled out of the courtyard along with them. She watched the royal dais, squinting in the bright sunlight. Hezekiah stood beside Jerusha's husband; then they stepped off the dais together and began their descent to the palace.

For a few fleeting seconds, Hephzibah had a glimpse of Hezekiah as he hurried past. His dark eyes were clouded with worry, his lips tight with anger. He walked with a weary, limping stride, dragging a leg that was stiff and scarred. His head was lowered, his shoulders hunched forward as if wading into a tempest. Then he vanished from sight.

After all the weeks of planning and waiting for this opportunity, it was over. Hephzibah had seen him-and now she trembled at the magnitude of what she had done to him and what they had lost. She covered her face and wept, sobbing bitterly in the uncaring crowd.

"Hephzibah ..."

She looked up, startled. A stranger stood on the other side of the wall from her. He had a faded reddish-gray beard and eyes the color of the sky. She wanted to run, but fear froze her feet to the pavement.

"Forgive me, Hephzibah. I'm sorry if I startled you."

"You know me?"

"I'm Isaiah ben Amoz, a distant relative of your husband."

"You're mistaken. I no longer have a husband."

"I know. But I have a message from Yahweh for you and for all of G.o.d's people. Yahweh has rejected His bride in anger, just as your husband has rejected you. But neither king will stay angry forever."

"The king will never forgive me for what I've done."

Isaiah shook his head as if to contradict her words. His voice grew louder, stronger. " 'Sing, O barren woman, you who never bore a child; burst into song, shout for joy, you who were never in labor; because more are the children of the desolate woman than of her who has a husband,' says the Lord."

People were stopping to listen to him, gathering around both of them. Hephzibah lowered her head, trying to hide her face. She wanted to run, but the crowd hemmed her in.

"'Do not be afraid,' " Isaiah continued. "'You will not suffer shame. Do not fear disgrace; you will not be humiliated. You will forget the shame of your youth and remember no more the reproach of your widowhood. For your Maker is your husband-the Lord Almighty is His name-the Holy One of Israel is your Redeemer; He is called the G.o.d of all the earth. The Lord will call you back as if you were a wife deserted and distressed in spirit-a wife who married young, only to be rejected,' says your G.o.d."

"Please don't offer me false hope," she begged. "I know G.o.d will never forgive me for what I've done."

Isaiah didn't seem to hear her. " 'For a brief moment I abandoned you, but with deep compa.s.sion I will bring you back. In a surge of anger I hid my face from you for a moment, but with everlasting kindness I will have compa.s.sion on you,' says the Lord your Redeemer."

"Please stop. Why are you doing this to me?" she asked. It was as if he hadn't heard her.

"'Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken nor my covenant of peace be removed,' says the Lord, who has compa.s.sion on you. 'O afflicted city, lashed by storms and not comforted, I will build you with stones of turquoise, your foundations with sapphires... . All your sons will be taught by the Lord, and great will be your children's peace. In righteousness you will be established; tyranny will be far from you; you will have nothing to fear.' " "No. It isn't true. Hezekiah will never forgive me, and neither will his G.o.d!"

She turned and forced her way through the crowd, leaving Isaiah behind, a look of bewildered sorrow in his eyes. When she reached the Temple gate, Hephzibah kicked off Hoglah's floppy shoes and carried them as she ran down the hill through the streets. By the time she reached the villa and hurried past the dozing gatekeeper, her feet were bruised and filthy.

She fled to her tiny cell and tore off Hoglah's clothes, sending the old widow away without a word of thanks. Then she closed the door to the outside world and latched the shutters, sitting alone in the darkness. She wouldn't try to leave the king's villa again.

20.