"That's quite a story!" I remarked when they had finished. "So you continued to rule Babylonia until now?"

"We've been happily retired for years," Azarya responded, "but the next generation of officials sometimes finds themselves in need of our advice, so we visit Babylon two or three times each year and discuss current events with the king."

"Are you certain it's not merely a clever excuse to visit an old friend?" I queried.

"Some friend!" Miykael crossed his arms. "Daniyyel went traipsing across Babylonia and left the rest of us to die!"

(When he spoke these words, I believed he was merely jesting by overexaggerating. I found out later that although the statement had been without malice, the threat of death had indeed been real.)

I turned to Daniyyel. "Did your God ever reveal to you the meaning of the dreams of hideous creatures with multiple horns and more than one head?"

"A vision of other kingdoms, Your Majesty," Daniyyel replied. "They made me ill at times, but an angel offered me comfort that at the end of my life, I shall be granted a peaceful reward."

"I had no doubt," I replied.

I secretly wondered about the customary greeting that the king may live forever. Was it simply a way of wishing the current monarch longevity in this world, or was it also a way to wish his soul might also live comfortably in the afterlife?

"And the dreams of the mad dog and the hideous cow?" I asked.

"King Nebuchadnezzar," Daniyyel replied. "He had his own dream about a tree that confirmed my fears for him."

I had no need to question him further. Nebuchadnezzar's madness had been a great joke at the Persian court. Leaders of Susa were convinced that the only reason Prince Cyrus refrained from launching an attack was because it hardly seemed sporting, although if he had been king at the time, he likely would have seized the opportunity.

One of my relative's favorite jesters had once amused the entire court by placing a bowl of food on the ground where it was hidden by tall grass. Then he had declared himself to be Nebuchadnezzar, knelt on the ground, and eaten the food without using his hands, giving the illusion from a distance that he was eating grass. Cyrus had laughed until tears fell from his eyes.

"Come, Nebuchadnezzar!" he commanded joyfully.

The jester crawled to Cyrus on his hands and knees, growling and pretending to bite the ankles of high officials of the Persian court.

Cyrus patted his jester on the head. "Good Nebuchadnezzar!"

For added amusement, the jester pretended his fingernails were long and sharp enough to be used as knives to slice meat. My relative was so amused that the following day, he ordered the performer to be rewarded greatly for bringing such hearty laughter to the palace.

Returning my thoughts to the present, I addressed Daniyyel once more. "So if you were the second-in-command, then when Nebuchadnezzar went mad and was unable to rule his kingdom, that would have made you…"

"God's servant," Daniyyel replied simply, "just as I am now."

"You were the king!"

He shrugged. "Nebuchadnezzar was still king. I simply continued the duty entrusted to me of overseeing his kingdom. Besides, he had men competing to be his successors. They saw to it that I did not attempt to claim the throne."

I smiled to myself, remembering the other time Daniyyel had been the temporary King of Babylonia. When Nabonidus and Belshazzar were captured, and I had not yet spoken the words declaring myself king, then as third in command, he had been the ruler of Babylonia, but after a few moments, he had immediately returned to having the third highest office, after Cyrus and myself.

"Do you ever miss it?" I queried.

"Sire?"

"Being second-in-command," I replied.

"Every office has its share of privileges and responsibilities," he answered. "As the hand of God could change everything in a moment, I've learned to be content serving in whatever manner he sees fit."

I shouldn't have been amazed at his answer. I still couldn't understand how a man could live so long in the royal court and have no desire for power, but I knew Daniyyel would be just as happy cleaning stables as sitting on the Babylonian throne.

Turning to the other three men, I thanked them for regaling me with the tales of their youth, adding that I could gladly listen to such stories all day.

"Your Majesty's request is granted," Chananyah responded. "It's sunset."

My eyes widened as my jaw nearly dropped. I hadn't realized the hour was growing so late.

"You will join me at my table!" I exclaimed, adding as an afterthought, "If your God wouldn't be offended…"

"With the king's permission," began Daniyyel, "I would gladly oversee the chefs to make certain a few dishes were prepared in a way that is pleasing to our God, that we may humbly accept Your Majesty's dining invitation."

I eagerly granted permission.

"Would Your Majesty forgive us for a brief delay?" Chananyah requested politely. "We shall make all possible haste afterwards."

"It's nearly time for Daniyyel's evening prayers," I stated. "He'll likely say them as soon as he speaks with the chefs. I fail to see how your delay will prove any more of a hinderance."

"No hinderance at all, Your Majesty," he assured me.

I assumed the men were also in the habit of praying thrice daily, but when I saw them walking toward the furnace, my curiosity got the better of me. Why would they approach the furnace on what had been such a hot day?

I decided to follow them, but I kept my distance to allow them a bit of privacy. I promised myself that if they entered into solemn prayer with their God or began discussing private matters, I would leave at once.

In the distance, I could hear the lions roaring from their den. It was sunset, one of the times when lions are most active. Soon they would be given the scraps of meat that would keep them alive for the next few days, enough food to ensure their growth would not be hindered, but not enough to make them placid and sluggish.

The three men stopped in front of the furnace. It was an old kiln built in nearly a perfect square with a dome on top. A gaping hole at the very top allowed clouds of smoke to escape, and one in the side allowed objects to be inserted. Bricks were often placed into the furnace to be glazed, turning into colorful objects used by architects who admired the artistic effects created by the fire. The kiln was tall enough to allow a man to stand, as long as he did not raise his arms above his head, and it was wide enough to allow him to walk a few steps, thus allowing servants to inspect the furnace and make necessary repairs when it was not currently in use, during which time the heat would become five to ten times hotter than the temperature required to kill even the heartiest of men.

For several moments, the men remained silent, staring at the furnace. I knew from their faces that they were lost in memories. They no doubt stood in front of this same kiln every time they visited the palace.

Then they began speaking in unison. "Shout to the LORD, all the earth. Serve the LORD with joy; come before him with singing. Know that the LORD is God. He made us, and we belong to him; we are his people, the sheep he tends. Come into his city with songs of thanksgiving and into his courtyards with songs of praise. Thank him and praise his name. The LORD is good. His mercy is everlasting, and his truth endures to all generations."

I was so entranced by this strange ritual, which had no doubt been repeated during each visit, that I continued to stare in bewilderment as the men turned to leave.

Miykael bowed and brought his hand to his lips. "May we be of service, Your Majesty?"

I suddenly realized what I had done. "Forgive me, but I was curious to know…" I struggled to find the right words.

He smiled. "King Nebuchadnezzar had a very similar reaction the first time we did this. Would it please the king to hear the tale?"

"I should like nothing better," I answered, "but not here. Let us partake of our evening meal together first."

When Daniyyel had returned from his time of prayer and our meal had been served, he began telling his friends about Belshazzar's feast and the writing on the wall before I arrived: MENE, MENE, TEKEL, UPHARSIN.

"Mene" meant "to count," but it was also a mina. "Tekel," meaning "to measure," was a reference to the shekel, and "upharsin" was from the root word "peres," which meant "to divide," but also sounded remarkably close to the word for "Persia." It was also half a mina. Thus the message altogether read something like "two and a half minas, a shekel, and two parts." Added altogether, the amount was nearly worthless.

Mene was written because God had numbered Belshazzar's days as king, and they would shortly end. The word tekel had been used because Belshazzar had figuratively been weighed and found lacking in morality. Upharsin indicated the kingdom would be divided and given to the Persians.

When Daniyyel finally concluded his narrative, I asked his friends about their ritual in front of the kiln.

"It is good to remember the deeds the LORD has done," Chananyah stated.

"It is also good to tell others of those deeds," added Miykael.

Daniyyel sighed. "I would have been there for you if I could. You know that."

"Perhaps God did not see fit that your faith should be tested," Azarya suggested.

"Not so!" Miykael declared. "All who serve God shall have their faith tested, but usually not in the way ours was. However, we do have a better understanding than most people of the metaphor of being refined by fire. The flame of our faith burned so brightly that all of Babylonia saw the blaze!"

I settled back comfortably into my chair, eager for yet another story to begin.