Daniel shook the thoughts from his head and raised his hand that held a circular golden disk, signaling he was friend and not foe. The disk was a pass from the king that would open doors all throughout Babylonian domains.
“I return with a message for the great king,” he said as he stopped the horse next to a few of the perimeter guards.
They motioned him through without a second thought. Daniel had seen them before, earlier in the day. Soon, they would be replaced by the night patrol.
Daniel guided his mount through the rows of tents, fires, cooking areas, and horse ties until he arrived at a massive, circular tent. Two guards in glimmering armor stood on either side of the entrance. A thin finger of smoke wafted up from the vent shaft in the center of the roof and then instantly blew away. A trailing banner flapped in the breeze, occasionally hanging limp as the wind died.
“Belteshazzar to see the king,” he said, dismounting. He held out the reins to a squire standing nearby. The boy took the leather straps and led the horse to the other side of the thoroughfare where a hitching post was sticking out of the ground.
He announced himself by the Babylonian name the king had given him. No one in the courts knew him as Daniel, with the exception of his three friends.
The guards parted and the one on the right pulled back the tent’s entrance. They both knew who Belteshazzar was. The introduction was merely a formality.
When Daniel passed through the door, he halted at the sight of the king and bowed low, remaining on his feet.
Nebuchadnezzar was seated on a lounge made of fur. Scantily clad women were on either side of him, ready to obey his command at a moment’s notice. He was eating a piece of bread and sipping wine from a golden chalice as Daniel entered. He stopped in the middle of chewing to motion for his adviser to enter.
The king propped himself up straight to greet the young Hebrew. His thick beard ran down to the base of his neck. He was adorned in greenish/yellow robes, a purple sash that ran across his broad chest, and a ceremonial battlefield crown that his father had passed down. Every Babylonian king in the tents of war had worn it. While his face was stern, Nebuchadnezzar always felt comforted when Daniel was around. He’d never had a foreigner in his court that he trusted more than his young Hebrew captive.
“What news have you, Belteshazzar? What does your priest believe the foolish king Jehoiakim will do?”
Daniel drew in a slow breath and after a few seconds of thought, shook his head. “The king will never surrender, your excellence. You will have to break through the gates first. When you do, he will crumble in your hands like a dry piece of dirt. Then you will have peace in the land of Israel.”
The king nodded, appreciative of the information. He waved for the women to leave the room, as well as his interior guards. The latter glanced at each other questioningly, wondering if they should leave their king alone or not. “Go,” he ordered more firmly, wiping away any doubts they had.
When the last person left the room, Daniel stood alone with the most powerful man in the world. Nebuchadnezzar stood up and towered over the younger man. In spite of his physical prowess, it was Daniel’s presence that dominated the tent.
“Belteshazzar, were you able to see anything of interest in the temple?” The king put his hand on Daniel’s shoulder, staring through his eyes.
“There are many treasures and holy items in the temple, my liege. As your friend, I advise you not to take things that have been consecrated by the one true God. However, I understand you feel that you should because of Jehoiakim’s betrayal.”
Nebuchadnezzar considered the words carefully. “I am sorry, my young friend, but your people must be punished. If other people see I am weak with yours, there will be uprisings everywhere. My justice will be swiftly dealt.”
Daniel could tell that wasn’t the only thing the king wanted to know. He waited for a moment, but the king obviously expected his adviser to give up the goods.
“There is no sign of the objects you seek, sire. They have been removed from the temple. You will not find the stones or the breastplate in Jerusalem.” Daniel didn’t lie, but he didn’t exactly tell the whole truth.
Nebuchadnezzar studied his eyes for what seemed like ten minutes. When he spoke, there was malice in his tone. It was sterile, lifeless.
“We will keep looking. If your high priest tried to hide them, it will only be a matter of time. For now, return to your tent. We attack the city at dawn. You will watch the battle from the hill with me.”
Daniel blinked rapidly and then nodded. The king had no idea that within a few inches, and behind a garb of linen, was half of the treasure he so desperately sought. “Yes, your majesty.”
1
Sean’s eyes wearily opened like slow, automatic window blinds; the room filled with blurry points of light. As his vision began to steady, he saw that he was lying on the tile of his kitchen floor. Most of the lights were out except for a row of three hanging bulbs in silver, conical casing over the kitchen island.
The back of his head throbbed like a slow-pounding heartbeat. He winced as he reached for the back of his skull to check the source of the pain. Underneath his thick blond hair, his head was significantly swollen, but when he examined his fingers, he was relieved to find no blood.
He tried to push himself up from the floor, but his body was overwhelmed with fatigue, and his muscles protested in response to his mind’s command. He slumped back down on the floor for a moment. It almost felt comfortable, if it weren’t for the cold surface against his strong cheek.
His brain struggled in the fog. What happened? Why was he on the floor? Why was he so tired? And why did his head hurt?
He directed his eyes to the nearby island. Two wooden stools, stained a dark brown, were tucked in under the countertop. The lights above it dangled like fireflies whose tails remained on. He must have passed out and hit his head. That had to be it. But what would have caused him to faint? And why would he feel so absolutely exhausted?
Sean pushed his body up again and over onto his side. He stayed in good shape, working out several times a week. Most recently he’d taken up interval training and working out in short circuits in the weight room. Now, though, his body felt like it had a skyscraper strapped to it. The room spun around, but he grabbed ahold of one of the stool’s lower rungs and kept his balance. Somehow, he managed to struggle up to a sitting position and leaned against the side of the kitchen island. He drew in long, deep breaths as if he’d just sprinted a hundred yards. As he sucked in air through his lungs, he smelled something foreign. The years of training and work for the government took root again, as they’d done for him time and time again, instantly heightening his senses.
He looked around and saw that the room had been splattered with an orange gelatinous substance. His eyes wandered across the space until they came to a stop on a little cardboard box sitting against the wall. It was smaller than a box for a pair of earrings, a tiny wire protruding from the top.
His mind snapped to full alert. It was a bomb.
He grabbed the lip of the island countertop and pulled himself up, his legs wobbling like a newborn foal. They quickly regained their balance and strength. Instinctively, he made a move toward the box, but a little red LED light on the top flashed once. In the next instant, the bomb erupted in a bright, yellow-and-orange flash. Sean jumped back, expecting a bigger concussion blast or some shrapnel. He quickly discovered that the device was not meant for that. It was an incendiary explosive designed to ignite combustibles.