Parthia was too quick for her this time. She caught Yael’s wrists in her hands and held them tightly. “I’m sorry but the spirit of unbelief was too strong, and it hindered my efforts. It came from there,” she said, indicating Zaki’s house next door with a tilt of her head. “I did everything I could, but it wasn’t enough. I told your mother that the spirits of unbelief were too strong here among the Jews, but she wouldn’t leave and come with me.”
“I didn’t want her to die!”
“I know, little one. I know.”
Yael finally stopped struggling, and Parthia pulled her into her arms, holding her tightly. The seer smelled wonderful, like incense and sweet perfume. And she was so beautiful with her burnished skin and fine linen robes and golden jewelry. Yael clung to her, weeping, longing to hang on to a part of her mother and what she had believed.
“You are a young woman of great faith, Yael. And you have been given the gift of deep spiritual insight. I have been waiting for all of the mourners to leave so I could talk to your father. I want to ask him to let you come and live with me. I’ll teach you everything I know, everything your mother believed. You’ll be like a daughter to me—”
“You need to leave here right now!” Zaki’s grandmother interrupted. Yael released her hold on Parthia and looked up to see Dinah hurrying toward them, shaking her finger. Zaki was by her side. He must have gone home to get her.
“Quick, I have something for you,” Parthia said. She slipped a necklace over Yael’s head, letting it drop beneath her clothing. “It’s the moonstone amulet I promised you. Wear it for protection. And take these star charts I made for you.” She pushed a bag stuffed with scrolls beneath Yael’s arm, pulling her outer robe over them to conceal them.
“You need to go back where you belong,” Dinah said, “and don’t come around here again. Yael, your mother asked me to take care of you, remember? I promised her that I would and—”
“The child is strong enough to decide for herself,” Parthia interrupted. “It should be Yael’s choice.” Her bracelets jingled as she rested her hand on Yael’s head. “What would you like to do, little one? You are welcome to come home and live with me.”
“She isn’t yours,” Dinah said, pushing Parthia’s hand away. “Yael is Jewish. She belongs with us. That’s what your mother wanted, remember, Yael?”
Yes, she remembered. But Dinah and her God might be the reason why Parthia’s spells hadn’t worked. Should she leave and go live with Parthia, following Mama’s beliefs?
The two women were watching her, waging a silent tug-of-war. Yael didn’t know what to say. Parthia broke the silence first. “Don’t worry, little one. I will talk to your father another time and explain to him about the gift of insight that you’ve been given. Such a gift could earn him a great deal of money.” She turned and walked away.
Yael didn’t care about money. She didn’t want either woman to take care of her, she wanted her mother back. She ran into her house and threw down the scrolls, then collapsed on Mama’s bed, crying as if she would never stop.
Chapter
5
Iddo hated walking through these pagan sections of Babylon, but there was no way to avoid them. He kept his head lowered, staring at his feet to avoid glimpsing the forbidden images and idols, wishing he could move faster through the crowded streets. The Babylonians decorated their important buildings, temples, and even the city walls with images. Iddo had asked his neighbor Mattaniah to walk with him, not certain he could find his way through the sprawling city by himself.
“Any idea why the Men of the Great Assembly called this meeting?” Mattaniah asked.
“You know as much as I do—something about a proclamation from the Persian king that concerns us.”
Five months had passed since the Medes and Persians had invaded Babylon, and so far Iddo’s life had continued the same as always. In his experience, important news usually meant bad news, so the mysterious proclamation was a greater source of worry for him than the idolatrous sights. Iddo had entertained the fleeting fantasy that he and his fellow Jews were assembling for an audience with King Cyrus so they could tell this new pharaoh to let their people go the way Moses once had. But in truth, Iddo’s sons had eroded his certainty these past few months by insisting that the prophets were foolish dreamers and that their people would never be allowed to go home.
“You haven’t come to prayers lately,” Iddo said. “We’ve missed you.”
“I’ve been very busy at work,” Mattaniah replied. “We have a commission to build a new storehouse by the river.”
“So you will return when the work is finished?”
“I don’t know, Iddo. What good are prayers?”
“How will our people continue in the faith if young men like you and my sons keep drifting away?”
“I have to work to pay my bills and feed my daughter.”
Iddo decided to let the matter go. Dinah said he nagged too much and was too hard on people who weren’t as committed to their faith as he was. Iddo walked on in silence beside Mattaniah until they finally reached the southern palace, once home to Babylon’s kings and now to their new Persian overlords. Other Jewish leaders and elders were already gathering in the huge paved square in front of the palace, and he and Mattaniah found a place to stand beside their neighbor, Joel. Iddo knew it was foolish, but he always felt uneasy around Joel, the man who had also asked for Dinah’s hand in marriage years ago. Of course Dinah hadn’t chosen Joel—but Iddo wondered if she ever regretted her choice, especially when her cousin Shoshanna had married him instead.
“Did we miss anything?” Iddo asked him.
“Not yet. But that’s Daniel the Righteous One, isn’t it? Standing up there at the top of the stairs?”
Iddo shaded his eyes. “Yes. And those men with him are Judah’s royal princes. I’ve only seen them a handful of times at important occasions, so I forget their faces. But who can forget those embroidered robes?”
“Well, this must be a very important meeting if they’re here,” Joel said.
Maybe Iddo’s fantasies would come true after all. Maybe Judah’s princes and elders really would demand their nation’s freedom. “The older, gray-bearded man is Sheshbazzar, son of King Jehoiachin,” Iddo told the others. “The younger one is his nephew Zerubbabel, son of Shealtiel and grandson of King Jehoiachin.”
“I didn’t know Judah still had a royal family,” Mattaniah said. “I thought the Babylonians executed them.”
“Not all of them,” Iddo said. “The Holy One promised King David that he would always have an heir, and the Holy One doesn’t lie. Rebbe Daniel is also descended from the royal family.”
At last Daniel stepped forward and raised his hands for silence. “This is a day of great news for our people,” he began, “the day that the Holy One promised us. It’s only right that Prince Sheshbazzar be the one to read the royal announcement from our Persian sovereign, King Cyrus.”
Iddo tensed with anticipation as Sheshbazzar unrolled the scroll he held and began to read. “Hear the words of Cyrus, king of the Persians and the Medes and of all the earth: ‘The Lord, the God of heaven has given me all the kingdoms of the earth and he has appointed me to build a temple for him at Jerusalem in Judah. . . . ’”
Iddo gripped Mattaniah’s arm. “What did he say?”
“‘Anyone of his people among you—may his God be with him, and let him go up to Jerusalem in Judah and rebuild the temple of the Lord, the God of Israel, the God who is in Jerusalem.’”
Iddo gave a cry of joy as shouts and exclamations rang through the crowd.
“‘ . . . And the people of any place where survivors may now be living are to provide him with silver and gold, with goods and livestock, and with freewill offerings for the temple of God in Jerusalem.’” Sheshbazzar looked out over the crowd as he rolled up the scroll again. “Rejoice, people of God! King Cyrus is allowing us to go home to Jerusalem! We’re going to rebuild God’s temple!”
There was a long moment of silence as the men stared at each other in disbelief. Then everyone began talking at once. “Can this really be true?” Mattaniah asked.
“I don’t believe it,” Joel said. “There must be a catch—some stipulation or requirements or . . . something.”
“It’s a miracle!” Iddo breathed. He had prayed for this, hoped for it, but even though he’d just heard the news with his own ears, he could scarcely believe it.
“King Cyrus has reversed the policies of the Assyrians and Babylonians,” Sheshbazzar shouted above the astonished murmuring. “He is allowing all of the captured nations to return to their homelands and worship their gods—including us.”
“We’re going home,” Iddo said. “We’re going home!”
“The prophet Isaiah predicted this day nearly two hundred years ago,” Rebbe Daniel said, stepping forward to stand beside Sheshbazzar, “and he even singled out King Cyrus by name, saying, ‘He is my shepherd and will accomplish all that I please; he will say of Jerusalem, “Let it be rebuilt,” and of the temple, “Let its foundations be laid.”And now it has happened. This is the mighty hand of God!”
Iddo could no longer see the platform through his tears. All around him men were hugging each other, laughing, weeping like children, unable to stop their tears. “Take this joyous news home to your families,” Sheshbazzar said above the noise, “and celebrate the goodness of God. This is truly a day of rejoicing.”
Iddo longed to run all the way home, shouting the good news to anyone who would listen. But he was so moved, so shaken by what he’d heard that he stumbled along in a daze, instead. “I’m glad you came with me, Mattaniah, because my family won’t believe me when I tell them. They’ll think I’m making it up.”
“I’m not sure I believe it myself.”
“Just think! Our brethren will gather from all of the places where we’ve been exiled, creating an exodus as great as the first one. There must be a million of us by now with our children and grandchildren, scattered throughout the empire. We’ll need carts and wagons—”
“Do you really believe everyone will return?”
“Of course! Why wouldn’t they?”
Mattaniah hesitated, frowning as he looked at Iddo. “Well . . . because it will mean giving up everything we’ve worked for here. It’s not as if we’ve been slaving to make bricks without straw for pharaoh all these years. Many of our fellow Jews have prospered and become rich. They would have to start all over again in a land that’s been desolate all these years.”
“But who wouldn’t be willing to sacrifice everything they have now for their children’s future?”
“For some of us, the future is here,” Mattaniah replied. “Like the Jew whose storehouse I’m building. He has a very comfortable life here and so do his sons.”
“But didn’t you hear what the proclamation said? We’re not only going home, we’re rebuilding the temple. God will dwell with us again. Think of it!” Iddo thought he might burst from joy as he envisioned serving as a priest with his sons. “When we celebrate Passover in a few weeks, Mattaniah, won’t it be glorious to remember that first exodus now that the Almighty One has provided us with the miracle of a second one? Who would have ever believed it?”
“Yes . . . Who would have ever believed it?”
The evening meal was waiting for Iddo when he arrived home. His sons and their wives milled around the courtyard in the fading evening light, waiting to hear the reason for the gathering of elders. He saw their worried faces and could no longer hold back his tears, too overcome with joy to speak.
Dinah hurried over to him. “What is it, Iddo? What happened? What’s wrong?”
“These are tears of joy, Dinah. The Persian king has set us free.”
His sons quickly gathered around him, too. “What, Abba? What did the king say?”
Iddo wiped his eyes. “The Persian king announced that he is allowing our people to return home to Jerusalem and rebuild the temple.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“It’s true. We’re going home after seventy years, just as the prophets said we would.”
Iddo’s son gripped his arm. “Are you certain you aren’t mistaken?”
“Ask Mattaniah and Joel. They heard it, too. Didn’t I tell you we would return home to our land?”
“This is unbelievable,” Berekiah said.
“Our leaders won’t waste any time. As soon as they can make the arrangements, we’re leaving Babylon for good.” His family didn’t seem to share his joy. They looked stunned, incredulous. Maybe they needed time for the news to sink in.
“Come, Dinah. Open a skin of wine,” Iddo said. “This is a night to rejoice and celebrate and praise the Almighty One for this incredible miracle.”
A spontaneous celebration broke out that evening as everyone in the community gathered in the square by the house of assembly. Musicians brought out their instruments and Iddo and the other men danced and whirled in joyous circles, clapping and singing and praising God. He couldn’t remember ever being this happy in his life. “Give thanks to the Lord for He is good,” he sang along with the others. “His love endures forever.”
Dinah’s cousin Shoshanna led a circle of dancing women, singing the song of their ancestress, Miriam: “I will sing to the Lord, for he is highly exalted. The horse and its rider he has hurled into the sea.”
Iddo was nearly exhausted by the time the celebration ended and people drifted home, but he still felt too restless to settle down for the night. He was bursting with joy and with thoughts of the Almighty One, and who better to share them with than his grandson. “Come with me, Zechariah,” he said, steering him away from the rest of his family. “I want to show you something.”
“Where are you going this time of night?” Dinah fussed. “It’s late.” But her worry couldn’t destroy Iddo’s good mood. He felt giddy with joy, not wine.
“We won’t be long. Go on home with the others.” He led his grandson in the opposite direction, down the narrow lanes through the maze of houses.
“Where are we going, Saba?”
“I thought we would walk to the canal where you like to play.”
Zechariah halted like a guilty man, forced to return to the scene of his crime. Iddo laughed out loud. “You thought I didn’t know where you ran off to on Sabbath afternoons with your friend Yael?”
“Are you mad at me, Saba?”
“No, son. I’m not mad. Who can blame a young boy for preferring activity over study now and then? Come on, show me where you go.”
Zechariah still looked unsure and a little worried, but he led Iddo through the dark streets where very few of the drab, mud brick homes still had lamplight shining from their windows.
“What do you think of the announcement, Zechariah?”
“Everything the prophets said came true, Saba!”
Iddo heard the wonder and awe in his grandson’s voice, and laughed. “Yes, of course! Our God is real and His word to us is real.”
“Abba said that kings never let their slaves go free, but King Cyrus did! He really did, just like Pharaoh! The Torah is all true, Saba!” Iddo pulled the boy close for a hug.
They reached the wide, shimmering void of the canal a few minutes later and halted near the bank, listening to the gentle sighing of the water. Fishing boats rocked on the waves, their tall masts swaying. The air was cooler by the water, and a cluster of palm trees swished softly in the breeze. Best of all, the sky seemed to open up above their heads.
“Look up, Zaki. See all those stars? Do you remember how the Holy One created those stars and the palm trees and the birds? What does the Torah teach us?”
“It doesn’t say how. God just said, ‘Let there be light’ and—”
“And there was light! Exactly! The Almighty One spoke creation into being with His words. That’s why I brought you here, to talk about the importance of words. Today King Cyrus gave us a proclamation—words on a piece of paper—and do you see the power that th
ose few words have? They will move us from Babylon to Jerusalem, from people with nothing to people with a homeland. Those words will move stones into place to build a temple for our God. Powerful words, yes?”
“Very powerful!” Zaki’s dark eyes glistened in the moonlight.
“Do you know why God is allowing us to return? Because of His grace and love. He will forgive us and dwell among us again.”
They gazed at the water, and it was so still that Iddo could see the moon’s reflection on the shimmering surface. When Zechariah shivered and crossed his arms against the nighttime chill, Iddo turned and motioned for them to start walking back.
“We’re made in the Holy One’s image, so our words also have power. You tell someone they’re ugly or that they’re a fool, and if you repeat it often enough, you might create ugliness or foolishness in that person. You praise them for their goodness or kindness, and your words just might create even more kindness in that person. We must be careful to speak words of life.”
A few minutes later they reached the gate to their house. Iddo thought of his sons, how convinced they had been that the prophets’ words weren’t true, convinced that their people would never return from captivity. He wondered if their words of unbelief would now have power over them. Perhaps they hadn’t wanted the prophecies to be true because they didn’t want to return. And as unimaginable as it was to Iddo, he wondered if his sons would fulfill their own words of unbelief and refuse to walk through the door that the Holy One had so miraculously opened.
Chapter
6
Dinah lifted her water jar onto her head and made her way to the community well. Time was passing much too quickly. Ever since King Cyrus made his proclamation, the weeks had raced by like fire through straw. On the surface, her life continued the same as always as she cared for her home and her family. But an undercurrent of change crackled beneath each day, slowly growing into an inferno that threatened to consume the life she knew and loved. Dread of the future robbed Dinah of the present, as if she knew the precise hour of her death and watched time speed toward that date.