Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: Arches - Chaser - Search (07/03/25)
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TITLE: The Temple Fugitive | Previous Challenge Entry
By Jack Taylor
07/08/25 -
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Hananiah, the temple guard, jerked toward the noise. Sandals slapped across the polished stone as a hooded figure burst from concealment near the inner court. The crimson trail behind him spoke of a fresh wound. The chase was on.
The fugitive raced through a golden arch, bumping aside Levites prepping for the evening sacrifice. And now, that sacrifice was gone. Hananiah banged his shield with the hilt of his sword, creating the illusion of echoing thunder inside the hallowed halls.
The setting sun gleamed off Hananiah’s bronze armor as he raced past stunned attendants. His pulse pounded. Word had come of a foreigner from among the exiles, determined to steal the scroll. Now, Yahweh’s sacred altar had been violated – a sacrifice taken.
Three archways and a set of stairs put distance between the lightly clothed vagabond and the chaser. Into the inner courtyard, where palm-shaped pillars rose, the lamb-snatcher dashed. The passageways would soon be closed.
A priest stumbled as he tried to avoid a collision with the runner. The ceramic bowl in his hand shattered on the tiled floor. The slick surface, created by spilled liquid, sent Hananiah sliding into a wall and tumbling down some stairs. One of his sandals dropped away, but he bounced up and kept up the pursuit.
Other temple guards joined in the chase, running and yelling. Hananiah’s lungs burned. His sword tip pressed into the smoky darkness as the traitor scattered lamps along his path. The sputtering signals along the floor gave enough light to press on.
Hananiah snatched a javelin from a stunned guard and hurled it. The projectile bounced harmlessly off the wall above the fugitive’s shoulder. There would be no commendation coming his way. The invader vaulted over a low altar railing and ashes flew in his wake. He ducked into a hallway of stone arches dimly lit by the narrow window slits of a gasping sun. And then it was dark.
The walls pressed in, his heartbeat echoing in the silence. Another guard stepped up with a torch. Cherubim hovered over almond branches, twisting in the flickering light. “Release the lamb! Surrender yourself!” he yelled.
The faintest swish of fabric. Hananiah pivoted, sword raised. The enemy dagger deflected harmlessly away. A knee crunched into his rib cage. He stumbled back, gasping. The enemy spun away, ducking beneath the tapestry. A wooden partition shattered like dry bone.
Hananiah sucked in air as he stumbled into the torchlight of the court of women. The screams of worshippers drowned out any attempts at prayer or song as the black cloaked enemy backed toward the Nicanor Gate. There was no escape now. The other guards formed a net around the thief.
The lamb writhed, escaping the grasp of the fugitive.
“Kneel and submit!” Hananiah ordered.
“I will not let Babylon take our scroll,” the fugitive yelled, pulling out a thin, bloodstained parchment with a broken seal.
Hananiah’s blood froze. The seal of Ezekiel. Words of the prophet not yet shared with the world.
The thief stepped back. Too far. His heel slipped on blood-soaked stone. He fell. His head struck the rim of the bronze basin. The scroll fluttered like a wounded dove and came to rest in the sacred waters.
It took only a moment to know there was no more fight in the foreigner. Two temple guards grabbed his arms and hauled him out of the sacred courtyard, leaving a crimson streak behind. A woman raced to clean it up with the hem of her tunic.
Hananiah hovered over the treasured scroll. Already the ink was blurring, blending with the holy water. He gingerly lifted out the parchment and watched the message of Yahweh slip away.
The last sliver of light crowning the Mount of Olives soaked into the darkened mound. The lamb had shed its blood, but still the war chariots of the Babylonians drew closer. The priest returned to their empty prayers, ignorant of the tragedy unfolding.
Far to the east, the prophet Ezekiel saw visions of wheels within wheels, the shadow of a foreign agent, a lamb escaping, and a guard standing in silence with a dripping scroll in his hands. The secrets would remain for now. The war above had begun.
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