(AN: One short flash-back, and then we're kicking straight into battle and intrigue.)

(No ego-boosting meant in this chapter. [lol])

Just Have Faith

In the tent of Mered and Bithiah, they were having dinner. It still consisted of mana, but they had grown to appreciate it. With them were their children – for families always stayed together somewhat in the camp of Israel – and prince Salmon as well.

"It's been almost a month since Moses left us," Miriam said. "The mourning can't go on for that long."

"I know what you mean, my dear." Mered said. "We're all anxious to inherit the Land of Promise."

"But what if we won't?" Shammai asked.

"What do you mean?" Salmon inquired.

"I don't know about you, my lord," he said. "Or you, father, or even you, mother, but the rest of us grew up in the desert. For us, home is wherever the camp is. It just doesn't seem that we'd ever know something else, something better, other than this."

"We must have faith!" Mered said.

"Faith, father?" Miriam returned. "You certainly didn't have any faith after Ishbah was born and mother couldn't bear anymore children!"

"Miriam, that's enough!" Bithiah ordered.

"You know it's true!" she returned, standing up before her whole family. "I'm just saying…what right do you have to lecture us about faith?"

She sat down, and Mered remained silent.

"None of us have a right to speak of faith," Salmon said. "Even I have wondered and doubted if the LORD will ever bring someone in my path. But just because we have sinned does not mean we should forsake the LORD altogether! Yes, we have sinned, but our tribulation is at an end and our iniquities are pardoned."

"How do you know, your grace?" Miriam asked. "How do you know that we aren't going to remain here in the wilderness for another forty years?"

"Because, when those who have been called to the service of the LORD sin, they must needs be tested to see if their faith in Him remains true. From what I've heard, it was that way for Moses…and for others…"

He remembered how happy Sarah had been. A son, and in her old age nonetheless. To say that their son had brought laughter would have been a great understatement. Isaac was the light of their life, and made old age just a little more bearable.

And now, the LORD 'Elohim' was asking the impossible.

"Take your only son Isaac, whom you love, and offer him up as a burnt offering upon one of the mountains I will show you."

He now stood on the brink of the hill, looking out at the imposing figure of Mount Moriah. He had come here all too soon for his liking. As if to compound this already tense moment, with him was his trusted servant, the only person he would ever bring on such a dangerous mission.

Eleazar of Damascus.

"We're here, my lord." he said.

"I know, Eleazar." the ancient sheik sighed. How could the LORD be asking this of him, at the age of one hundred and twelve? He should be spending the rest of his days in peace, not being forced to do this.

"Stay here, Eleazar." he said to his faithful servant. "We will return, once we're done with the sacrifice."

"Yes, master."

Why did I say we, he wondered. There would only be one coming down the mountain.

"Isaac?"

"Yes, father?"

"Take the fagots off the donkey, bring them with us."

"Yes, sir."

The young lad removed the bundles of sticks, while the elder lead the way up to the top of the mountain. For every step onward, it was harder for the father. They finally reached the top, and piled the stones upon their make-shift altar.

If the LORD had asked him to give up all his wealth, every kine, sheep, goat and camel he owned and every servant in his household, he would rather have done that than do what he was now doing.

What if it was not the voice of the LORD? a thought suggested.

That had happened before, that same thought in his own head arising in a tight spot. Only then, it had been What if it is not the will of the LORD that Sarah bear your child? It was his fault, he knew: she suggested it, but he could have rejected her offer, insisted that the LORD would provide.

And what happened when he failed then, when he listened to his own doubts? He had to send his own son Ishmael out of the family, banish him and his mother after the lad was mocking young Isaac. It was just like when he called Sarah his sister out of fear of Pharaoh Khufu and King Abimelech: bad things happened.

Is this my punishment for not listening, Elohim? he thought. For my lack of faith? I must return to You the son You gave me?

The heavens stood silent.

"Father?"

"Yes, my son?" he turned to the lad.

"We're here," he said, indicating to the top of the mountain, placing the bundle down at his feet. "We have the sticks, and the knife, and the fire..." He indicated to the torch in his father's hand. "Aren't we missing the lamb?"

He was breaking up on the inside. It was all he could do to keep from bursting out into tears.

"Elohim will provide for Himself a sacrifice." he returned. He had to tell his son: they had come to the moment of truth.

"And it is you."

"Me?" the lad asked with perplexity. "B-But isn't it an abomination to sacrifice living hu...?"

"It is the will of Elohim!" the father cried, turning his face away. "Believe me, I wish there were another way!"

Silence, just the howling of the wind billowing around their ears.

"You should tie my hands first," the young man said. "Wouldn't want me to get away, would you?"

The father wept openly.

"Oh, my son!" he pulled Isaac into his old arms, gripping onto him with every ounce of strength he had in his old bones.

It was the boy who pushed himself out of his father's grasp.

"Better get on with it," he said, his eyes swimming with tears. "No use dragging it out, father."

The old man nodded, then took the rope that bound the fagot together. With this, he secured Isaac's hands about the wrists. He then picked up the lad in his arms and carried him over to the altar. Every last ounce of strength and resilience kept him from cutting Isaac's bonds and telling him to run for his life. Let the LORD curse him and kill him, or do whatever He willed upon him for his disobedience. Anything but this!

No, he finally said. As with Job, the LORD gives and the LORD takes away.

It was the promise of the LORD that even brought Isaac into being. The earth belonged to the LORD, as it was His created thing. And man, being His own creations as well, were His servants by reason of His creation, whether they worshiped Him or not.

If He wanted to call back Isaac, so be it.

Placing his old, wrinkled hand over the young lad's face, he drew out the knife. It had seen much use since he left Ur: by its blade, the warriors of Elam had fallen in the rout of Chedorlaomer's confederacy. It had also seen the first circumcision, and slain the sacrificial animal for thousands of sacrifices. Now it would taste human blood once more.

The blood of his son.

With a cry of utter sadness and desperation in his voice, he lifted the knife up and prepared to bring it down.

A strong hand seized his wrist, and kept the knife from going all the way down into the boy.

"Don't harm the boy!" Metatron said calmly, staring into the old man's eyes.

"You-You don't understand!" he tried to resist. "I must do this! The LORD has..."

"...has commanded that you harm him not!" the angel insisted. With relative ease, Metatron pushed the old man back onto the ground.

"The Almighty Elohim waits until now to tell me not to kill him?" he returned angrily. "The past three days have been nothing but the same message: offer Isaac as an offering! Can't the LORD make up His mind?"

"Yes, Abraham," Metatron said. "And all your presumption aside, the LORD knows that you love and fear Him above all else. You would not withhold anything from the Almighty, not even your own son."

He gave the old man his hand, and lifted him up from off the earth.

"In return for your confirmation of faith," the angel said. "The LORD swears by Himself that He will surely bless you. Your descendants will be like the stars of the heavens and the sand on the sea-shore. They will possess the cities of their enemies..." He paused. "And through you, all the nations of the earth shall be blessed."

He walked over to Isaac and pulled apart the tight knot as if it were nothing more than ash.

"Come, here is your son." he said to Abraham, indicating to Isaac.

Abraham ran over to his son and seized him in his arms. He wept openly once more, but now for joy and relief rather than a fear of loss.

The sound of rushing wind was heard, and Abraham saw Metatron no more. The sound of bleating suddenly echoed from the side of the hill.

"Haven't we heard the story of Father Abraham a thousand times over?" Miriam asked.

"Even if you had heard it ten thousand times," Salmon said. "It would not cease to be true. Abraham's lack of faith regarding the promise of a son brought the trial of Moriah upon him...or at least, that's what I've drawn from the story." He looked at Mered and his family. "As surely as Abraham was put through that great trial, so we were tried when we marched through the wilderness these forty years. But have faith, my friends!"

Just then, the tent-door opened to the sight of the white-robed priest Phinehas.

"My lord Salmon," he said. "Joshua asks that you report to his tent immediately!"

"I'm on my way!" the fifty-something prince said, rising to his feet. Phinehas disappeared, but Salmon turned to the others.

"We shall see the land of Canaan yet!"

(AN: I thought it fit)

(I know my 'definition' of the trial at Moriah might not be in complete agreement with the Talmud commentaries, but the number of differing views goes to show that even the Israelite rabbis were not in 100% agreement with the conclusions they made about the Torah.)

(Yes, I used Metatron for this scene. And though I've said that ethnically Jewish actors should play the Israelite roles [and they should], since Metatron is neither Jew nor Gentile, it's quite possible that he could be Alan Rickman! [I tip my cap to his performance as Metatron in Dogma. That movie might be irreverent, but it's not as bad as some people may think.])

(I think that might be the last flash-back, unless I decide to do something about Joseph or Jacob...then again, I could go on to do a whole separate story just about them!)

(-steps off the soap-box and starts writing the next chapter- [lol])