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anointed by Zadok the priest, Melek-Zadok he became, and with Khiram son of Khiram and his people who were of Dân, and twenty of the Tribe of Levi, that is, Aaron’s line, they did despoil the Temple of Shalomon of its vessels and treasures, and fled amid the strife to Menekhet,’” I read aloud, then sat back on my heels. “What do you make of it, father?”
“Whatever Melek al’Hakim took with him, he had the priesthood’s blessing,” Eleazar said simply. “I do not know. Perhaps it was the Name of God. What other treasure is worth protecting more?”
“The Temple was built to house the Signs of the Covenant,” I said.
“Yes.” Eleazar nodded. “Moishe’s Tablets, Aaron’s Rod, and a jar of manna. So it is written, and it is written that the Ark which held them was taken to the mountains and hidden in the time of Judah Maccabeus.” He shrugged. “Perhaps it is so. If it is, it has passed beyond mortal knowledge. But this object...” He pointed to the Jebean scroll, the original, where two men carried a cloth-covered chest on long poles. “It is shrouded, yes. And yet to my eyes, it looks very like that Ark which is described in the Tanakh. Do you not discern, here, the outline of two cherubim, facing one another?”
I squinted at it. “It may be so.”
“It may.” A grin broke over Eleazar’s homely face, making it for an instant lovely. “Who can say, Phèdre nó Delaunay? It is a mystery, and one that we who follow the teachings of Yeshua ben Yosef have abandoned. Who needs the voice of Adonai speaking between the cherubim when the Mashiach has walked the earth, flesh and blood and somewhat more besides? Who needs the Name of God, when His Son has spoken the Word of redemption and pledged a new covenant?”
I thought of the terrible power and anguish caught behind Hyacinthe’s eyes, of the yawning chasm that had opened in the sea between us and the awesome, wrathful presence moving in its depths. “Not all of Adonai’s creatures accepted Yeshua’s covenant with obedience, father. Rahab, who is the Prince of the Deep, did not; and it is Hyacinthe who suffers for it. If there is no power in Elua’s lore nor in Yeshua’s to turn him aside, if the Name of God is the only power to which Rahab must answer, then I need it.”
“Perhaps it is so.” Eleazar was silent for a moment. “You answer your own questions, and I can tell you no more. Is there merit in the scroll’s tale? I cannot say. You must go to Jebe-Barkal and see. Only one other thing may I tell you, Phèdre nó Delaunay, one true thing.” He folded his hands, his expression grave. “Adonai is beyond our mortal compass. To receive His Name, we must approach Him in perfect trust and love, to make of the self a vessel where the self is not.”
“Eleazar.” I swallowed. “I’m not sure what that means.”
“Nor am I,” he said gently, “though I have sought it these many years. I know only that it is true, for it was taught to me by my teacher and his teacher before him, as long as the Children of Yisra-El have endured. Although you do not worship Adonai, you are Elua’s child, Phèdre, and as such know something of love. Perhaps the way will be revealed.”
“Thank you, Eleazar,” I said, rising from my kneeling position. “I pray you are right.”
Well, it was less than I might have wished, but it was enough-enough to keep hope alive, at any rate. It seems strange to me that a people could be so dispersed, that so much of their lore and history could be forgotten, though mayhap it is unjust of me to think thusly. We are different, we D’Angelines, but what we have, we could lose as easily. Waldemar Selig’s invasion had proved that much.
Yes, I thought, and how well would we endure then, trusting to the love of Blessed Elua to sustain us for a thousand years, keeping our faith? What tales would we still tell of Kushiel’s justice, of Camael’s might, of Eisheth’s compassion, of Anael’s husbandry, of Shemhazai’s cleverness, Azza’s pride and Naamah’s generosity? Would we still admire Cassiel’s loyalty, or reckon it folly? And Elua, Blessed Elua ... what solace would we find in our wandering, misbegotten deity, whose sole province was Love?
I was ashamed, then, of my thoughts, and gave my blessing unto Eleazar ben Enokh. He embraced me at our parting, and his kind wife, Adara, did too. His parting words stayed with me, and I pondered on them. How could the self be where the self was
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