David Ascendant (Chronicles of the Nephilim Book 7) (29 page)

At nine thousand feet high, Mount Hermon was the highest peak in the Sirion mountain range at the northern edge of Canaan. It was twenty-five miles inland, over mountainous terrain from the city of Sidon. Its snow-peaked summit stood majestically over the surrounding forests and foothills. This cosmic mountain, where the gods assembled, had been the location of the original descent of the Sons of God in the primordial past when they rebelled from Yahweh’s heavenly host and fell to earth.

It was at Hermon in the land of Bashan, “the place of the Serpent,” that the two hundred rebels set up their supernatural fortress in the bowels of the mountain. From here, they engaged in their primeval plans of usurping Yahweh’s authority, corrupting his creation, and violating his image. They proclaimed themselves gods over the people and began to mate with human women. Their offspring were the Nephilim, giants of old, demigods who would be considered the first of the Seed of the Serpent, Nachash.

Yahweh had most of the rebel Watchers bound into the earth, and drowned the land to stop the cancerous growth of this diabolical seed along with mankind’s violence and idolatry. He saved Noah and his family to start over with a purely human bloodline from which to bring forth a new Seed, a messiah king, who would destroy the power of the Serpent and his Seed forever. Yahweh allotted the nations of sinful mankind and their territories to the rebellious Watcher gods. But he kept for himself the nation of Israel and claimed the land of Canaan as his allotted territory.

So long as the gods reigned over the land, there would be perpetual conflict between the Seed of Abraham and the Seed of the Serpent; a cosmic conflict of those who worshipped Yahweh versus those who defied him and worshipped other gods. And that clash of gods was about to intensify as an assembly of the gods convened within the cavernous interior of Mount Hermon.

The cavern was hundreds of feet in diameter with a large lake of black, flaming liquid in the middle: the entrance to the Abyss. Long stalagmites and stalactites filled the large subterranean area. They were covered with a phosphorescent moss that gave artificial light to the assembly hall. On the other side of the infernal black pitch lagoon were the thrones of Nergal and Ereshkigal, the god and goddess of the underworld, who guarded the entrance waters of the Abyss which led to Sheol.

Asherah, Ba’alzebul, Dagon, Molech, Resheph, and Qeteb had journeyed from Sidon to the mount of assembly. Marduk and Ishtar of Babylonia, Asshur of Assyria, Kumarbi of the Hittites, even Osiris and Horus from Egypt travelled their long distances to answer the urgent call for a council of the seventy gods over the seventy nations.

When Yahweh had sent the Great Flood and bound the Watcher gods into the earth and Tartarus, he left seventy of them to rule over the nations with their minions of fellow mal’akim. The lands were allotted at the Division of Tongues at Babel. This dispersion was supposed to keep mankind from ever again uniting in evil over the entire earth as they had under Nimrod the Mighty Hunter
.

It had been generations since a call to council like this had been attempted. It was difficult for the gods to leave their territories in the hands of lesser deities in their absence. Power and idolatry left nations in unstable and precarious situations that could explode or collapse at any moment. The air of the council was one of impatience. The seventy were anxious to get back to their dominions and were angered at being inconvenienced.

There was only one significant entity who did not show up
.

“Where in Sheol is Mastema?” griped Ba’alzebul, who had taken over the proceedings from Asherah and Dagon. It had not surprised anyone, as it was clear the bulky brute sought to return to his former glory as Elyon Ba’al, the Most High god over Canaan.

Asherah whispered to Dagon, “Wipe off that sour puss.”

Dagon mumbled back, “How dare he take over like a pompous dictator.
I
am god of the Philistines and the Philistines are pre-eminent in Canaan. I should be…”

“You should shut your mouth,” she interrupted him. “Alone, you have no chance against his power. If we are careful and wise, you and I can work together to undermine him.”

Dagon gave her a surprised look. Did she just hint at conspiracy? Of course she did. Perhaps he was not so alone. Perhaps she and the brute were not conspiring against him after all.

Finally, Zeus from Greece, stepped out from the crowd and announced, “Mastema is on the west coast of Italy.”

“He left Assyria? Why on earth?” said Ba’alzebul.

“He is working amongst the Etruscans and Latins,” said Zeus.

Ba’alzebul could not understand the thinking. No one could. He complained, “Of what possible worth are those primitive savages, that he would neglect an urgent call to assembly? We are gathered to discuss the fact that the messiah king, the Seed of Eve, is alive in Canaan and poised to take reign and engage in all out war against the gods of Canaan. And Mastema is wasting his time with backwoods peasants and yokels?”

“That is the problem with you, Ba’alzebul,” a voice boomed out from behind the crowd of divinities. A Watcher stepped out.

It was Mastema. “You are too shortsighted. You need a longer vision.”

Mastema was a visually unimpressive looking god. Where Ba’alzebul bulged with muscles, Mastema looked scrawny in comparison. Where the storm god had a frightening, horned presence, Mastema was uncomely and unremarkably androgynous. Was he a scrawny male or an ugly female? It wasn’t clear. What made Mastema’s aura so much more terrifying than Ba’alzebul’s was his legal standing in the heavenly court. He was the Accuser who prosecuted cases against Yahweh and against his people. His legal acumen was so brilliant, he could outmaneuver any god before Yahweh’s court except Yahweh himself. And in the end, knowledge of heavenly law was of far more earthly power than raw strength. So, no matter how much might Ba’alzebul could muster, Mastema would outrank him because of his mastery of the Law, and Yahweh ruled through Law.

Mastema stepped forward and took the stage from Ba’alzebul like a king taking it from a queen. The storm god backed down. He knew who had the greater authority here.

Mastema said, “Forgive my ignorance of the latest gossip, but where is this messiah king, David ben Jesse?”

Dagon blurted out, jockeying to be noticed, “With the Philistines at Gath. He has allied with them against Saul, who seeks to destroy them both.”

“Do you not own Lady Bisha of Gath?” said Mastema.

Asherah jumped in, “Bisha is a slave of her passions. She won’t seek to kill David because she is seeking to screw him.”

Mastema shook his head, then said, “What of the Sons of Rapha? Are they not an elite squad of assassins?”

“Disbanded by the Lord of Gath,” said Ba’alzebul with an angry look at Dagon. “Achish is protecting David because he is using him in raids against the Israelites in the Negeb.”

Dagon added, “The entire court of archangels sought to bind us at Gath, so we cannot return there.”

It didn’t take Mastema any time to think of it. He already knew the answer.

“Morons. Since David’s rise to power is forestalled until Saul’s fall, and David is now in Achish’s confidence, the answer is obvious. Get Achish to fight against Saul with David helping him. Have Achish withdraw his forces from David in the battlefield. He will be killed by Saul’s soldiers, and you kill Saul. The line of messiah Seed will die, and you can rename all of Israel ‘Palestine.’” Palestine was the Latin pronunciation of Philistia.

Asherah added with a smirk, “Crushed by the mouth of the Serpent.”

That drew Mastema’s attention with a return smirk and nod. He said, “Well, you are not
all
buffoons.”

Ba’alzebul’s face went flush with offense. Dagon grinned.

Mastema added, “But beware, my divine imbeciles. The heavenly host will show up in full force. So you had better all be there, and you had better be in top form, or you will find yourself in a certain underworld dungeon that starts with a “T” and rhymes with Tartarus.”

Molech’s face scrunched up, trying to figure out the riddle. Asherah could see the poor sod was too dense to catch the obvious sarcasm.

Ba’alzebul puffed his chest out and tried to take command. “Who will stand with us to fight this infernal seed and his evil minions?”

The seventy silently weighed their options.

Asherah stepped in to add weight to the less than towering intellect of the Storm God. “If Canaan falls under this messianic seed, do not think the rest of you will be left alone. He will expand to the ends of the earth to steal all your allotted nations and throw all of you into Tartarus. If we do not stand together now, we will end up bound alone.”

Slowly, the gods all raised their hands. All of them except Mastema, who Asherah and Ba’alzebul noticed had already slipped away from the assembly, no doubt to return to his futile pursuits in Italy.

Molech raised his hand, but secretly planned an excuse to return to Gehinnom to consume his child sacrifices in peace.

“Well, then,” said Ba’alzebul, “let us get cracking. We have a war to prepare for.”

In recent months, Lord Achish had taken to imbibing of much wine and strong drink. He had the increasing dread that he was losing control. His desire to conquer Israel and gain the territory of the hill country for Philistia was growing ever elusive. His regiment of giant Rephaim warriors, now led by General Ishbi ben Ob, was gaining renown and becoming more independent. His wife, Lady Bisha, who had been a powerful political tool for his ambition, was becoming more flagrant with demanding her own intentions as well as indulgences.

He felt lost and without anchor in a churning sea of conflict. His response to the accumulation of pressure was to increase his consumption of alcohol. There was nothing more relieving of that pressure than the soothing flow of fermented drink pouring down his gullet and sloshing in his belly. It made him forget his troubles and numbed his dread, if just for a while.

He had finished his fourth goblet of wine when David responded to a call for an audience in his dining area. Achish lay on the pillows before the table. When he saw David, he lifted his goblet and said with a slight slur of speech, “David! My Hebrew spy. Enter, please and share some drink with me.”

David saw that this was his opportunity to get what he wanted and maybe more. Achish was not senselessly drunk. He was more akin to slightly sloshed, but still mentally capable.

Most important of all, Bisha was not there to ruin everything.

David smiled and picked up another cup. Achish smiled and poured him some wine. David had to follow his slightly moving wine jar as it meandered to and fro.

David saluted Achish and took a drink. Achish belched in response, bringing a smirk to David’s lips.

Achish pronounced, “You Hebrews are a contentious lot. You fight amongst yourselves almost as much as with your enemies.”

David smiled, “I cannot argue with you there, my lord. We are the children of Jacob, a wrestler with Yahweh himself.”

“King Saul is the first monarch to unite your people in four hundred years. And yet, there remains a division between Judah in the south and that of Israel in the north. Now, in your wanderings in the south, while on the run from Saul, you have been successful in garnering the favor of the Judahites, am I not correct?”

“Yes.”

“That means that with you under my protection, Saul’s kingdom is divided. So what is he thinking? Will he give up on Judah or fight for it? Will he fortify the heart of his stronghold in Gibeah? The Council of Five has appointed Gath as the vanguard of forces.”

David toasted Achish’s cup again and took a deep gulp. Or at least, pretended to, as Achish responded with his own swallow. Some wine dribbled down his beard. The drink had loosened the Philistine’s lips enough for David to understand what he was thinking, even as Achish sought to understand what Saul was thinking.

Apparently, the overall strategy of the Philistines was to divide Israel. Philistia’s location in the central south was prime opportunity to extend its grip directly inland from its coastal location. It could physically divide the territories held by Israel and weaken her. Gath was the furthest inland, so Achish was the key leader in achieving that expansion. David had to keep Achish from his own planned area of rule in the central highlands: Hebron and Jerusalem.

“My lord, Saul is impulsive. He reacts more than he plans.” It was not entirely true. David knew that without Yahweh’s guidance, Saul was desperate, but he was obsessive about his control, even to the point of his willingness to seek forbidden divination. “You Philistines are strong in the plains because of your iron chariots and heavy armor. But you are weak in the highlands where the Israelites are strong on foot with their lightweight armor.”

Achish had stopped drinking and was trying hard to follow David’s logic. His face scrunched in deep thought. His eyes looked into the distance. The wine had dulled his wits just enough to make him fail to see David’s hidden agenda. But not enough to recognize the obvious. “Tell me something I do not know.”

David continued, “I recommend a twofold strategy: leave the highlands of Judah and the desert of Negeb to me. I will secure your interests in that region. Instead of your forces attacking the interior, which will draw the fullness of Saul’s forces into maximum conflict, I suggest you hit him on the periphery where you are strongest and he is weakest, on the flatlands of the Jezreel Valley up north.”

Achish thought for a moment, then blurted out, “Brilliant!” Then he paused skeptically. “But that is quite a distance from our own stronghold.”

“But it is flat plains all the way up the coast and inland to the city of Shunem. You could secure that whole region and therefore box Saul in from both north and south.” David felt like the reverse of the Serpent in the Garden, leading the real serpent with his own whispering rhetoric.

Achish’s mind was not as sharp as usual under the influence of wine, but it was not blunted completely. “How many Philistine forces will you require? That might split my own strength in half.”

“None, my lord.”

“None?” This was looking better every moment to Achish.

“I will not lie to you. Even though my men are rebels and dissidents from Saul, they are still Israelites, and they do not like fighting alongside Philistines. But they are loyal to me. So, if you give us our own city near the Negeb, and grant us a measure of independence, you need never fear an uprising. I will lead them in flash raids against Israelite clans in the far south to secure the desert territory. That way, they can work out their enmity with rival tribes, without feeling as if they are fighting for you.”

Achish moaned with agreement, but eyed him suspiciously. “You will be outside the pentapolis.”

“But still inside Philistia,” replied David.

“Autonomy,” pondered Achish.

“Under your sovereignty,” pandered David. “I will be at your beck and call. If Saul goes after me, Israel will be ripe for your taking. If he splits his forces against you and me, then you will still have an easy victory in the north.”

Achish’s face became deadpan still. David could not tell if he was still thinking it through or if the wine had finally overtaken him.

A smile suddenly spread over Achish’s face and he said, “Excellent. If you keep this up, I may even appoint you to be my personal bodyguard.”

“One thing at a time, my lord.”

“Indeed. And the first thing is to get you settled. Tell your men to gather their families and move to the city of Ziklag. It is twenty miles south-west of Gath, on the outer reaches of Philistia in the Negeb. I will relocate the current inhabitants to Gaza and Ashkelon.”

David bowed and left the cup on the table. “Lord Achish, you are too kind and too wise. I only hope to be worthy of your goodness and greatness.”

David could flatter with the best of them. What he had planned for Achish was something quite different.