Rising Darkness Read online

  “But didn’t we have to fight to gain the land in the first place?” asked another boy, Jarod, who was about 13 years old. “We had great armies then!”

  “True, true,” said Eli, shutting his eyes, and folding his hands in front of him. “Israel had a great army then.”

  The other shepherds began huddling close, bringing in more wood for the fire, settling in for the evening. They knew Eli was about to tell a story that would not only fill their hearts and minds, but also help to pass the long night.

  “It was a glorious victory that brought us into this land,” Eli began, as if seeing it all in his mind. “A great series of victories begun by Joshua.” He looked at the little boy and winked at him. “Your namesake,” he added.

  The boy grinned proudly. So did his father.

  “But Joshua himself realized that without the Lord there would be no victory at all. He depended on the Lord. After the great victory at Jericho, where the sound of trumpets brought down the proud walls, Joshua found himself defeated by Ai, a very little town that should have fallen very easily.”

  Eli sat up and shook his finger at the men. “And that was the beginning of a great lesson for our fathers of that day. They had begun to lose their way even as they were in the midst of great victories…”

  As Eli recounted the great days of Israel, the two angels walked away from the shepherds. A voice came from behind them. It was Gabriel.

  “Greetings my brothers,” he said. “A glorious night for a glorious event!”

  “Gabriel!” said Serus, who had been assigned to watch over the shepherds until the rest of the Host arrived. “Welcome, my brother.”

  Bakka also greeted Gabriel. “We were listening to this man Eli,” he said. “He is speaking of the days of Joshua.”

  “You would do well to listen to this man and learn how the faith and minds of humans work,” said Gabriel, looking at the very bright star that hung in the heavens over Bethlehem. He indicated Daniel, who remained standoffish. “He also would do well to listen to Eli.”

  “He seems to listen to nobody,” scoffed Bakka. “He’ll hear none of it. He’s a very difficult man.”

  “Yes, Bakka, he is extremely troubled, ” said Gabriel calmly. “Tonight is a very important night for him. That is why I am giving you charge over him.”

  “What?” responded Bakka, obviously exasperated. “You are assigning me to Daniel? But I thought perhaps I could be with one of the Levites. Or perhaps that cantankerous Lippius—you know, the one who is spoiling to fight the Romans?”

  “Daniel is a troubled man who needs a compassionate guardian,” said Gabriel. “He also needs direction. You have been assigned to see to both of those things. Tonight.”

  “Yes, my lord,” said Bakka, still puzzled by his new assignment.

  Gabriel led Bakka over toward the place where Daniel stood. The man was quietly weeping, staring at the sky in the direction of the bright star that had recently appeared over the land.

  “Why is tonight so critical?” asked Bakka sheepishly. “I mean, why must there be a resolution tonight?”

  “This man matters,” said Gabriel pointedly. “As all men do. And tonight, all that Eli speaks about will speak to what shall happen in Bethlehem very soon. This will be a night that is very important to both Daniel…and you.”

  Bakka started to respond, but Gabriel forbade him, motioning for him rather to listen to the words of the old man. Bakka walked over next to Daniel. He did indeed have compassion for the man. Since Daniel was now his charge, Bakka was determined to do all that was allowed within his power to see this man back to God.

  Bakka sidled up next to Daniel and spoke gently into his mind: “Why don’t you listen to the old man?” He looked at Gabriel and then Eli and muttered to himself, “Sounds as if we both need to hear him out.”

  At first Daniel didn’t respond. But after a few more urgings, he glanced over at the other shepherds. He sat down, still staring into the little city of Bethlehem, but he cocked his head in such a way as to hear what was being discussed. Bakka grinned at Gabriel and Serus, who nodded in affirmation. Bakka then sat next to Daniel and listened to Eli.

  The old man was quite a storyteller, eloquent and compelling. Even Gabriel caught himself listening with great interest as the story unfolded…from those days after the crossing of Jordan into Canaan…to the days when Israel was a new nation with a great vision…to the days when Joshua was leader over the people...days of a very different time with a very determined enemy…days that were all a part of the Most High’s glorious plan to bring the Seed of the woman, the Messiah, to save the earth.

  Chronicles of the Host

  Nation’s Eve

  It was with much anticipation that the Host observed the passing of the mantle of leadership from Moses to Joshua. Now a man of 80, Joshua was to lead the people into the land for which they had waited over 400 years. Poised inside their walled cities on the other side of the Jordan, the Canaanite kings, steeped in idolatry and in agreement with every vile and detestable behavior possible, awaited the impending invasion.

  Lucifer and his princes over Canaan had made sure that the people of the land were alert to the ambitions of the Hebrews. They had communicated through the forbidden arts of the Canaanite priests, in visions and dreams and ecstatic utterances, the darkness that was encroaching from the East. The cry went throughout the land that the people who had humbled Rameses were now closing in…and so the Canaanites prepared as best they could for the coming battle, never knowing that they were smaller pieces in a much larger game….

  East of Jordan, 1225 B.C.

  “They are behaving like maddened hornets on that side of Jordan,” said Crillus, one of Michael’s warrior scouts, as he reported on the movements of the enemy in Canaan. “They know that the Lord is about to move and they are in a panic.” He smiled. “In fact, when they saw me coming in with a few other warriors for a closer look, they thought the attack had begun and began scattering like the wind!”

  Michael nodded in acknowledgment of the report and looked across the great river to the other side where, unseen to the humans, a great cloud had gathered across the sky facing them.

  “Make no mistake, my friend,” said Michael. “True, some of the enemy are frightened. But there are untold thousands of the enemy in the land,” he said. “And not all of them are given to fright.”

  “Yes, they have been entrenched there for quite a while,” agreed Crillus. “They won’t give up their territory easily.”

  “Nevertheless they shall give it up,” said Michael, glancing at the holy angels who continued to pour into the area above the Israelites. “Our numbers are increasing as the people continue praying according to Joshua’s recent command. Then you shall see that dark cloud scattered once and for all!”

  The holy angels with Michael provided a covering of sorts, shielding the people from incursions that were frequently attempted by roving devils who penetrated the lines just enough to streak through the camp. Lucifer had assigned them to spread fear throughout the nation of Israel—fear of walled cities, and giants, and unimaginable evil. But they caused little real harm; they were powerless operating in proximity of a people so near to the Presence of the Lord.

  Michael glanced at Joshua, who was himself at that very moment also peering across the Jordan. How strong he looked! At 80 years of age Joshua seemed stronger than ever. The Lord had certainly chosen well the man who would carry the people into the land of promise.

  Michael remembered how, 40 years earlier, Joshua had entered the land with Caleb and the other spies; how ten spies had brought back a report to Moses and the people that the land was good, but that it would be impossible to conquer; how Joshua and Caleb had almost been stoned by the people for encouraging them that the Lord was with them to take the land; how God had judged that generation unworthy to enter the land; and how Joshua and Caleb had waited until this day to finally return to the land flowing with milk and honey. Now they were rea
dy to enter the land of promise!

  But were the people ready to fight? That had been the running debate among Joshua’s leadership. The Lord had recently spoken to Joshua, encouraging him, and Joshua had resolved with his warriors that the attack would occur soon—and would include those men from the tribes whose land was already secured on this side of the river. And so it was that Joshua now gazed across the Jordan, readying his heart and mind for the coming conquest.

  Two men approached Joshua. They were dressed in clothing more Canaanite in appearance than Hebrew. They listened and nodded as he instructed them and then they set off across the river, disappearing into the cool water. Joshua silently prayed God’s favor upon the spies he was sending to scout out the strength of Jericho.

  “Here they come again!” came a shout from somewhere down below.

  As Joshua watched his spies make it safely to the other side, several very large demons—unseen by Joshua or any other human—battered their way into the camp, breaking through a line of holy angels, and entered a tent belonging to one of Joshua’s generals. Try as they might, Michael’s angels could not remove them.

  A great row occurred as holy angels found themselves unable to make the demons budge. The demons merely laughed at Michael when he approached them. They stood over the figure of a general, who was clearly depressed. With his head resting on his hands, he stared blankly at the wall of the tent.

  “Poor Michael,” said one of the demons. “I’m afraid this one has given us permission to be here.”

  “You know the rules of this war,” said another laughingly. “Once a human gives us permission there is nothing that can force us out—unless he does it himself!”

  “You are taking advantage of this man’s discouragement,” said Michael angrily. “His wife and daughter just drowned and he is upset. But he will recover.”

  “He is more than upset,” said the larger of the three demons. “He is angry at Joshua! And anger makes for good motivation.” He began speaking soothingly into the distraught man’s mind. “After all, if it weren’t for Joshua dragging us to this place, your wife and daughter would still be alive…”

  The man began weeping tears of bitterness and anger. The demon laughed.

  “You see, Michael?” he said. “This man blames Joshua. And rightfully so!”

  “And this is only one man,” said another. “Sickness is beginning to break out. And more fear.” He looked intently at the archangel. “I love how both sickness and fear are so contagious among humans—and so complementary. They both cause paralysis and death!”

  Michael left the tent and ordered angels on sentry to watch the movements of the man. Crillus followed the archangel, wondering how he would handle the situation.

  “He’s correct about one thing,” said Michael. “The longer we remain here the more opportunity these foul creatures will have to exert their influence.”

  “But why?” asked Crillus, walking with Michael as they neared where Joshua now conferred with some of the elders. “The Ark of the Testimony is here—God’s very Presence. Joshua is firmly in control. The vast majority of the people are with him. In fact they took an oath to pay with their lives should they betray his leadership. Why would they give in to the enemy now?”

  “Because humans have a knack for weakening,” said Michael, looking at another enemy incursion into the camp—this time to harass a Levite who was having marital strife and was becoming increasingly bitter toward his wife.

  “I have seen it all too often,” Michael said resignedly. “Given time, men seem to follow the leading of their capricious natures. That is what prolongs this war.”

  Before Crillus could respond, Michael vanished. He had decided to call upon one of the wisest angels in Heaven for advice.

  CHAPTER 2

  “It will be difficult to fight them in their own land.”

  “The Council? In Jericho?”

  “Yes, my prince,” responded the aide. “They are convening here to discuss the coming invasion.”

  “Well,” said Khasis. “It isn’t often that we receive such splendid personages in our little part of the kingdom, is it?”

  Khasis, formerly an angel of worship named Stepp, had been created prince over Jericho by Rugio on direct orders of Lucifer. Since the angel had been devoted to Lucifer from the beginning of the rebellion, Lucifer wanted not so much to honor Stepp as to purchase him. Stepp, who became Khasis, the local deity, saw in the appointment hope for greater things. If serving Lucifer in this rotten city furthered his own ambitions, then serve he would. Besides, Jericho was about to become the center of the war; and with the Council’s impending visit, what better time to shine?

  In the time that he had been prince over the region, Khasis had developed a following among the people. They worshiped him as the great wisdom who brought strength and commerce to Jericho and were devoted to his cult. Khasis had an active priesthood who helped keep the people in darkness; he had a city treasury filled with the commerce that comes from trafficking in the carnal pleasures of humans; and of course he had the walls. The walls of the city, which made his position unassailable by anything human, were the envy of most other cities in the region.

  All in all he felt good….

  And yet along with the building of the great walls, there had also been building in Khasis a slow burning jealousy against the other princes in Canaan, who ruled over larger and more prestigious areas, such as Hazor or the five cities. Naturally, since Jericho was a frontier city, it was out of the mix of much of the politics of the land. Still, Khasis intended to make a name for himself and become prince over all of Canaan. Perhaps this visit by the Council was truly fortuitous.

  “The Council has arrived,” came the announcement.

  “Splendid,” said Khasis. “Let’s show them the hospitality of the prince of Jericho. We’ll meet them in the king’s theater behind his great house.” He smiled. “What better place to map out this little drama?”

  Crispin had just left the Academy of the Host when Michael caught up with him. Michael could always tell when his old teacher had just left a satisfying classroom situation. Crispin wore a look of extraordinary wisdom coupled with a rather rascally smirk—which usually meant that some angel or other had been caught in one of his famous logic traps. Michael hailed Crispin as he was about to enter the Academy courtyard toward the Great Temple.

  “Ah, Michael,” called Crispin. “Back from earth so soon?” He then added in mock seriousness, “Don’t tell me the war is over already?”

  Michael smiled at Crispin’s humorous jab.

  “Not by any means, teacher,” said Michael. “Would that it were over soon.”

  “Yes,” mused Crispin. “Every day that goes by on that planet without the great resolution means more souls lost to those for whom Sheol was created in the first place!”

  They walked together down a beautiful pathway that led to a corner of the courtyard on the way to Crispin’s offices. He knew that something was bothering Michael. He also knew that Michael would tell him at the proper moment.

  “So how was your class today?” Michael asked casually.

  “Splendid, splendid,” answered Crispin. “Of course the nature of our instruction has changed considerably since the days when you attended the Academy—what with the war and all.” He looked vacantly at Michael as if thinking about earlier times. “Those were the days when angels were more content learning about God rather than trying to become Him! And so we teach the sacred teachings—but one way or the other the talk always drifts to war. Perhaps it is for the best in these dark times…”

  “The war,” Michael muttered quietly.

  “Yes. Just so,” said Crispin. “I hear Joshua is doing splendidly with the people. They should be crossing over any day now, shouldn’t they?”

  Michael looked around to make sure they were quite alone.

  “Joshua is doing well, Crispin,” agreed Michael. “But these people…they are fearful in their hearts. Apa
rt from a few of their leaders, and Caleb of course, the people seem on the verge of complete dissolution.”

  “I thought they were of one mind in this,” said Crispin disappointedly. “That is alarming, I must say…although not exactly shocking.”

  “What do you mean, teacher?” asked Michael, happy to finally be getting into the matter that had led him to seek out this counsel.

  “As you have said many times, Michael, these people are on the verge. They are always on the verge, it seems. Ever since they corrupted their natures, humans have been on the verge of catastrophic decisions. You know that.”

  “Yes, I know,” said Michael. “But it’s not just that. Most of the earth’s people are completely deceived by Lucifer’s angels—who have either set themselves up as gods to be worshiped, or as spirits to be feared, or both. But I’m talking about God’s very own people. The people of covenant and promise…the people through whom will come the Seed who will eventually avenge the Lord and somehow rescue them…”

  “Of course,” said Crispin, who led Michael to a lovely spot in the garden. “Let’s talk here among our Lord’s wonderful creation.” He indicated the surroundings. “Wonderfully beautiful, hmm? And to think that the Lord has created such beauty on earth as well—albeit of an inferior, material quality.”

  Michael was not about to let the conversation drift toward the flora and fauna of creation.

  “What I am seeing are more and more incursions by the enemy,” said Michael. “They have been held back until recently; now they seem to be coming in greater and greater numbers. They sweep in and begin speaking disparaging thoughts about Joshua, or whispering frightening scenarios of what lies on the other side of the Jordan, or…”

  “But Michael, what do you expect of our enemy?” asked Crispin. “He is sworn to oppose us. In fact his very existence depends upon it. Oh, I know that in the end he cannot possibly win. We all know that, I think.” Crispin looked at Michael intently. “Except for Lucifer himself. At one time I was convinced he knew in his heart that he could not possibly win this war. Now, I’m not so sure. Pride has a way of blinding one’s ability to reason. In the end it becomes madness.