04 The Edge of Darkness (4 page)

SIX

Jerusalem, A.D. 30

THE MARKETPLACE WAS TEEMING
with vendors selling their fruits and vegetables. Weavers of purple cloth were yelling and holding up their materials, hoping to gain the attention of passersby. Shepherds led their sheep to be slaughtered, skinned, and hung up with other meats. The pungent odor of perspiration was heavy in the hot, dusty air
.

Caiaphas was nervous. He looked around to see if anyone was watching him, hoping he would pass unnoticed since he was not wearing his normal priestly robes. He sighed and stepped under the shade of one of the arches that led toward the temple. He raised his hand and motioned for the men to approach
.

Eshban poked Zerah in the side
.

“Stop that!” said Zerah with irritation in his voice
.

Eshban pointed. “He is giving us the sign to come.”

Caiaphas watched the two swarthy men approach. He was beginning to have second thoughts. Would anyone really believe them? They were poor men of little influence. Well, better to fail in the attempt than not to try
.

Eshban spoke. “How may we be of service to you, Your Excellency?” There was a sarcastic curl to his smile
.

“I want you to follow the teacher. The one they call Jesus. I want you to listen carefully to everything he says and then report back to me each evening.”

Eshban and Zerah nodded their heads in agreement and exchanged conspiratorial glances
.

“Now go. I must not be seen talking to you.” He then turned and walked away into the crowd
.

Zerah looked at Eshban. “How much did the high priest give you?”

Eshban opened the small leather bag. “Four silver coins. Two for me and two for you.”

Zerah eagerly took the coins and put one of them between his teeth and bit down to test it. It was real silver. He smiled. The remnants of his last meal were visible between his teeth and his breath reeked of garlic
.

The teacher and his followers were walking toward the eastern gate. Zerah and Eshban followed, moving steadily closer
.

“Who is the big one talking with the teacher?” Zerah muttered
.

“I heard someone call him Peter. A few more steps and we shall be able to hear all.
”

“Master, look at these tremendous buildings! The stones are massive. I wonder how they ever moved them into place! It must have taken many years.”

“Yes, those are magnificent buildings, Peter. But I will tell you a truth. One day these buildings will be completely demolished. The destruction will be so great that there will not be one stone left on top of the other.”

Zerah looked at Eshban and shook his head in disbelief at what they had just heard. He opened his mouth to speak, and Eshban motioned for him to remain silent. They were within earshot
.

Eshban and Zerah followed, blending in with the other people going to and from the city. Their dirty and torn clothing made it easy to remain inconspicuous. No one paid them any attention
.

The climb up the Mount of Olives took about thirty minutes. Eshban and Zerah watched as the teacher and his four disciples sat down on a cluster of rocks overlooking Jerusalem and the temple courtyard. They concealed themselves behind an olive tree within hearing distance
.

“Who is the one talking to the teacher now?” whispered Zerah
.

“One of the other followers called him Andrew.”

“Master, you mentioned that the temple would one day be destroyed.”

“The temple will fall. The rivers will boil. The Day of Judgment will come, and it shall be a sign of my return.”

“Can we tell when the end of the world will come?” asked Peter
.

“Others will come in my name, claiming to be the Messiah. They will lead many astray. Wars will break out near and far, but don’t panic. Yes, these things must come, but the end won’t follow immediately. Kingdoms will wage war against one another, and earthquakes will swallow up entire nations. Terrible famine shall follow. But all this will be only the beginning of the horrors to come.”

Eshban and Zerah looked at each other in disbelief
.

“It sounds terrible, Master!” said one of the followers
.

“Will anyone survive this devastation?” asked the fourth member of the group
.

“Who are those two followers?” whispered Zerah. “They bear a resemblance to each other.”

“They are brothers. Their names are James and John. I’ve seen them on the seashore of Galilee. I think they are fishermen.”

“Yes, people will survive. But when these things begin to happen, be
cautious! You will be handed over to the courts and beaten in the synagogues. You will be accused before governors and kings of being my followers. This will be your opportunity to tell them about me. And the Good News must first be preached to every nation and then the end will come.”

“It sounds as if it will be a terrible time of tribulation.”

“Yes, Peter, it will be. At that time if anyone says to you, ‘Look, here is the Christ!’ or ‘There he is!,’ do not believe it. For false Christs and false prophets will appear and perform great signs and miracles to deceive the majority of people. Even some believers will be tempted to follow these false teachers who seek financial gain, glory, and power
.

“Beware of false prophets who come disguised as harmless sheep, but are really wolves that will tear you apart. You can detect them by the way they act, just as you can identify a tree by its fruit. You don’t pick grapes from thornbushes, or figs from thistles. A healthy tree produces good fruit, and an unhealthy tree produces bad fruit
.

“Not all people who sound religious are really godly. They may refer to me as ‘Lord,’ but they still won’t enter the Kingdom of Heaven. The decisive issue is whether they obey my Father in heaven. On judgment day, many will cry out, ‘Lord, Lord, we prophesied in your name and cast out demons in your name and performed many miracles in your name.’ But I will reply, ‘I never knew you. Go away; the things you did were unauthorized.’ Be warned, Peter. I have told you ahead of time so that you might be prepared.”

Eshban leaned over and whispered into Zerah’s ear. “I am sure that the high priest will want to hear about all of this. It almost sounds as if there is going to be some sort of insurrection against the religious leaders.”

Zerah nodded his head in agreement
.

SEVEN

MURPHY WAS SITTING at his desk when Shari entered, carrying an armful of papers. She smiled and her eyes twinkled at the sight of him.

“So, what’s the occasion?”

Murphy looked at her curiously.

“What do you mean?”

“I usually get to the office way ahead of you. You must have some burning project you’re working on.”

“I just needed to do some thinking.”

She plopped the papers on his desk. “Here’s one less thing you’ll have to think about. It’s all the book reports and test papers. I was up till two this morning grading them for you.”

“Thanks, Shari. That’s a real help. Above and beyond the call of duty.”

“Well, I know how much you hate grading papers…. almost as much as I do. Since I’ve finished your dirty work, maybe I could get off a little early this afternoon?”

“To get some sleep?”

“No, to do some shopping.”

“Now, that sounds real restful.” He stifled a yawn and Shari studied him closely.

“Speaking of restful. You look a little tired yourself.”

Murphy nodded his head.

“Oh, I get it. You must have been off having fun with your friend Methuselah. He plays a little rough.”

Her eyes noticed the turnip-sized bruise on his forearm and the slight swelling around his left eye.

“Those bruises look like they hurt.” There it was. The protective, motherly tone. “Well, don’t keep me in suspense. What happened?”

Murphy recounted his trip to the Hall of Records in Charlotte, and the discovery of the shaft that led to the fun house. He omitted some of the gory details, knowing that she would not be pleased to hear how close he had come to death. He handed her the strange messages on the three-by-five cards that Methuselah had left for him.

“This is weird. Who is King Yamani? What town is he talking about? And what does that have to do with I Kings 8:9?”

“No idea. Methuselah doesn’t ever make anything easy.”

“What about the Bible reference?”

“The passage in Kings refers to the Ark of the Covenant.”

“You don’t think he’s found the Ark, do you?” Shari’s eyes were wide with excitement. “That would be one of the greatest archaeological finds ever!”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Here’s what it says in that verse:
Nothing was in the ark except two tablets of stone which Moses put there at
Hoeb, when the Lord made a covenant with the children of Israel, when they came out of the land of Egypt.”

“So where does that leave us?”

“Well, you have to refer to several passages to get the clue. In the book of Exodus, God instructs Moses to put the Testimony—you know, the Ten Commandments—into the Ark of the Covenant. He then instructs Moses and Aaron to collect an omer of manna and put it into a pot and place it in the Ark along with the Ten Commandments.

“Manna, that’s some sort of food, right?”

“Yes. Manna was the food that God fed to the Children of Israel as they wandered in the wilderness. It was like a white coriander seed, supposed to taste like wafers made with honey. It was to be kept in the Ark as a reminder of how God had provided for all of their food requirements.”

“I still don’t get it.”

“Have patience. In another passage in the book of Numbers, God instructs Moses to put Aaron’s Rod into the Ark along with the Ten Commandments and the jar of manna. But, if you remember, the Children of Israel started to rebel against the leadership of Moses and Aaron. The leaders of the twelve tribes came together for a showdown. They each brought their rods (or leadership staffs) with their names on them. They placed them in the tabernacle of meeting to determine who would be the leader. The next day, when they looked at the rods, they were all the same—except for Aaron’s. During the night, it had sprouted and put forth buds and produced blossoms and yielded ripe almonds.”

“I guess that settled that.”

“Yes. Aaron and Moses continued their leadership. Aaron’s Rod was to be kept in the Ark as a miraculous sign against the rebels.”

“Okay, I’m following. There are three things in the Ark.”

“Right. There is one more detail. In the book of Hebrews we are told that the jar that held the manna was made out of pure gold.”

“So?”

“So, the Ten Commandments were given somewhere around 1445 B.C. Solomon’s Temple was completed in 959 B.C. When the temple was completed, they brought the Ark of the Covenant to be housed there. I Kings 8:9 informs us that at that time, the Ark contained only the Ten Commandments. Sometime in the roughly four-hundred-eighty-year interim, Aaron’s Rod and the Golden Jar of Manna were removed from the Ark of the Covenant. What happened to them remains a biblical mystery.”

“Do you think that Methuselah has discovered where they are?”

“I think that’s a strong possibility. The next question is, who in the world is King Yamani? And what does it mean?
Thirty degrees northeast of the altar … press the king’s head.”

“Would you like some help?” A knowing smile played across Shari’s face.

He hesitated for a moment. “Of course. Do you have the answer?”

“No. But I think I know someone who might.”

“And who would that be?”

“I’ll give you a clue. Stunningly beautiful. Red hair. Sparkling green eyes.” Shari seemed to delight in seeing Murphy blush.

“Isis McDonald.”

“You’ve told me that she is one of the leading experts in ancient cultures and languages. The name King Yamani sure sounds ancient to me.” Shari was still smiling. She knew that she had got him and she intended to savor the moment.

EIGHT

MURPHY TAPPED HIS FINGERS on the desk as the phone rang. He found himself wanting to hear that familiar voice and thought back to the first time he met Isis. It was in the hospital, as Laura lay close to death. She had entered the room wearing a black coat and looking a little sheepish. She had brought a section of the Bronze Serpent that Moses had lifted in the wilderness. Moses had used the serpent to save the lives of his people, and somehow Isis thought the artifact might help to heal Laura.

After Laura’s death he had not allowed himself to think of any other women. Then Isis reappeared. At first he thought that she might be an ice maiden. She seemed preoccupied much of the time, interested only in her work. After her father’s death, she had lived her
life in hiding. Perhaps in an effort to avoid dealing with her loss, she holed up in her office at the Parchments of Freedom Foundation in Washington, D.C.

Isis’s skills as a philologist were astonishing. She could read and write Chaldean, Terammasic, a dozen varieties of Arabic, and ten other distinct Near and Middle Eastern languages. She had been extremely helpful in uncovering clues that had led Murphy to discover a number of ancient biblical artifacts.

His feelings for her had started to grow during the expedition to Ararat. They had spent a lot of time together talking and planning for the trip. They had also spent many memorable moments talking around the campfires on the mountain. His mind began to drift back to his rescue of Isis from the bandits. Ever since, he had begun to feel protective toward her.

He thought about how his battle with Talon on the ark had nearly killed him … and how Isis nursed him back to health in Azgadian’s secret cave. He feelings for her grew stronger on their search for the Handwriting on the Wall in Babylon. Now he found himself excited at the prospect of speaking with her again.

“Parchments of Freedom Foundation. How may I direct your call?”

“Isis McDonald, please.”

Murphy drummed his fingers some more as the hold music played. He found himself smiling and wishing he could be there in person … to hold her. For now, he’d have to be content to just hear her voice.

“This is Isis McDonald.”

“Isis.”

“Michael!” Isis sounded genuinely happy to hear from him. “It is so good to hear your voice.”

“Isis, I have really missed you. I’ll be flying up to Washington in a couple of weeks. Will you be free?”

“Oh … let me see … I think I might be able to work it in.” She laughed, and he suddenly wished he could arrange the trip sooner.

“I’m glad you have an opening in your busy schedule.”

“Michael, how have you been? Overworking yourself as usual?”

“Probably no more than you.”

“Have you been staying out of trouble?”

There was a pause. “Well…”

“Come on. What’s going on?”

“I’ve gotten a couple of notes from Methuselah.”

“Aha,” she teased, “so that’s why you called. Okay, what is it this time?”

“King Yamani.”

“Who?”

Murphy’s heart fell. “King Yamani. Have you ever run across his name before in your studies?”

“No. But his name has a definite Middle Eastern sound to it. Would you like me to do some research?”

“That would be great. Anything you can dig up on him would be helpful.”

“Sounds mysterious. Are you planning some new expedition?”

“Not this time. I’m just trying to find out who he is.”

Isis paused for a second. “Is that a class bell I hear in the background?”

“I’m afraid it is. I’m on in about five minutes.”

“I’ll try and see if I can run it down for you, Michael. In the meantime, you get some rest.”

“I’ll try. I can’t wait till I see you.”

“Me too.”

Shari not so subtly wandered over to Murphy’s desk. “Well?”

“Well, what?

“Well, how is she doing?” There was a sly grin on her face.

“Are you trying to play matchmaker?”

“The thought never crossed my mind,” she protested with feigned innocence. “By the way, Professor, Bob Wagoner called my cell phone
while you were talking with Ms. McDonald. He said that he tried to reach you on the other line but it was busy, and he would like you to call him at his office. He sounded a little agitated.”

“Thank you, Shari. Say, have you heard anything back from the FBI about that fingerprint I sent them a while ago?”

“The one you took off the signboard in the Reed Gold Mine?”

“That’s it. I think it might be Methuselah’s. If it is, it will be his first mistake. It might help us find out who he is.”

“They haven’t responded yet. I’ll give them a call for you. They’ve certainly had enough time.”

“You would think so.” He shook his head. “Never underestimate government bureaucracy.”

Murphy gathered some papers and put them in his briefcase. As he turned to leave, his phone rang. He reached back and answered it.

“Michael Murphy.”

“Michael.”

“Oh, hi, Bob. I was going to give you a buzz after class. Shari mentioned that you called.”

“Could we meet for lunch?”

“Sure. Is there something going on?”

“I think there may be, Michael. I need your advice.”

“My class won’t be over till noon. Could we shoot for a quarter to one?”

“That’ll be great, Michael. Would the Adam’s Apple at twelve forty-five be all right? I know you like the food there.”

“Best chicken sandwich in town. See you there.”