The Rise and Fall

    The man's sobs echo through the temple room of Nisroch, the god of agriculture. His prone, shaking figure testifies to his distraught state of mind. Outside the ring of light that the candles throw, shadows stir with cruel intentions. The broken man's gold signet ring identifies him as the king of Assyria, the same king who led his army into a supernatural slaughter by the Israelites and their god. He shakes his head, trying to control his reeling emotions, praying to still his reason.

    His whispers of prayer cease as his two older sons Adrammelech and Sharezer enter the room, stepping into his view. "My sons," he whispers, wiping away his tears and holding out a shaking hand, "pray with me." Adrammelech clears his throat loudly—causing Sharezer to flinch—and begins, "We have not come to pray, Father." He smiles widely, his white teeth glinting in the dim light. The king looks to Sharezer, who casts his eyes downward quickly. King Sennacherib sighs, understanding immediately. "Ah, so it is to end like this? A defenseless old man killed by his own sons in the temple of his god." He rises and draws out a long curved knife from his robe.

    "You may not expect me go quietly."

    Adrammelech likewise reveals a sacrificial dagger that he grabbed on the way into the temple, showing the hastiness of their attack and lack of preparation. He taunts, "If you had given up so easily, I would have been very disappointed."

    Esarhaddon is interrupted from his late dinner by a servant bursting through the door and kneeling in obeisance and fatigue.

    "Rise!"

    Esarhaddon commands, standing and striding across the room to meet him. Panting, the servant begins, "My lord, your brothers entered the temple of Nisroch, going in after your father." Without pausing to respond, Esarhaddon dashes out the door, hurrying to his father's aid. The startled servants quickly scramble to summon a guard to follow their master and possibly save their king.

    The pale moon shines brightly on the marble stairs leading into the temple, adding to the eerie weight of the atmosphere. Metal clinks quietly as Esarhaddon and his guard ascend the stairs. They are stopped at the entrance by the gruesome sight of two dead patrol guards. Stepping through the blood, Esarhaddon kneels by the one of the men, listening carefully for a breath. His hands fumble around the guard's neck, trying to slow the blood flow, but the pulse is already gone. Closing the guard’s eyes gently, Esarhaddon sends a silent prayer up to his god for the soul of the lost young man. The captain of the guard places his hand on his master's shoulder, "My Lord-" Esarhaddon nods, waving the men on to fill their places as he rises, leaving dark prints of the guard’s blood as he walks.             Slowly he eases his sword out of his sheath while striding into the entrance hall. The loss of the moonlight makes the room feel even darker than it is, and lends to the countless shadows across the floor. With careful, precise movements, Esarhaddon's guards file in around him as he moves into the next chamber, this one leading to the altar. The room is lined with tall pillars which allow the guard to quickly separate and hide behind. Veiled by a curtain, two figures argue, their voices just faintly picked up by their brother.

    "You know the law. Esarhaddon has been named the next king, there is no changing that! The people would riot!"

    The elder brother gestures wildly with his hands until his younger brother grabs his wrist tightly, forcing him to halt.

    "Then let them riot." Addremelech growls out through gritted teeth. "That will not keep me from the throne. I have the first blood right. Not you, not Esarhaddon. Me."

    Sharezar pulls his arm out of his younger brother's grasp, silently cursing that he had a concubine for a mother. He asks softly as he begins walking away, "When will this end Addremelech? Your thirst for power and blood is becoming uncontrollable."

    Addremelech follows after him, neither brother noticing their audience. "You swore me a blood oath, brother. Do not betray me or you will forever regret it."

    "I would not have forever to regret it." Sharezar snaps at him, his complacency gone. "You would never let me live that long."

    Adremmelech moves toward him threateningly just as Esarhaddon steps into clear view, pointing his sword at both men.

    "Enough!" he shouts, the echo carrying on.

    Addremelech’s aggressive behavior immediately evaporates as a smirk covers his handsome features.

    “A family reunion! How heart-warming. Come to punish your foolish father, Esarhaddon? I am afraid we have already beaten you to it...” He gestures toward the altar where the king’s body, stretched and drenched in blood is visible through the sheer curtain. Esarhaddon’s face pales at the sight and his sword wavers. He fights for a moment against the despair and rage that threaten to overwhelm him. Steeling himself, he faces his oldest blood brother.

    “You murdered him.” He states simply.

    Addremelech waves him off, “I only did what I thought best for you. You should be thanking me, child-king.”

    “You dare?” Esarhaddon roars, advancing on his brother. Sharezar quickly steps between the two, his hands raised. “Wait! Think of what you do-“

    “Move Sharezar! My fight is not with you.”

    Addremelech steps away from Sharezar’s protection, drawing his knife for the third time that night. “Do move, Sharezar. Let us see what our baby brother is capable of.” All three are suddenly distracted by the advancing of Esarhaddon’s guards.

    “Come to babysit, Captain?” Addremelech mocks. Esarhaddon raises his hand in warning, not taking his eyes off of his opponent. “You are not to interfere under any circumstances.” He orders. The captain interjects, “But, my king-“

    “None.”

    The guard fades into the background, not disobeying their new king, but prepared to interfere at a moment’s notice.

    “My, baby brother, exercising your authority so soon.”

    "Do you have anything but sharp words, Addremelech?"

    Sharezar steps aside, not willing to betray either brother’s trust, as the two circle each other carefully. The elder brother steps forward swinging in a wide arc. Esarhaddon blocks the blow easily and returns to a defensive stance. Coming closer for a quick series of strikes, Addremelech taunts, "Oh come on, even father fought better than this, and he was old and feeble as it was."

    With a burst of rage Esarhaddon charges him, dealing multiple powerful blows that cause Addremelech to stumble backwards in an attempt to block them. Lifting his arm too high against a well-aimed strike, the elder leaves his torso exposed. The blade slices clean through Addremelech's robe and deep into the muscle directly at the base of his shoulder.       The blood begins seeping through his robe as he stumbles forward, his knife clattering to the ground. Esarhaddon is snapped out of his anger by the sight of his brother's pain and steps back quickly. Sharezar rushes forward, trying to push away Addremelech's grasping hand from his wound. "Move!" he commands, hastily tearing cloth from his own robe and putting pressure on the cut.

    Esarhaddon’s hands tremble, but his voice portrays authority, "Leave! Now."

    "Brother," Sharezar begs, "he may not make it if I move him so soon!" Glaring at his older brothers, Esarhaddon clenches his fists. "I have shown you mercy in sparing you. Now leave." 

    Sharezar scrambles to his feet, gently pulling his moaning little brother after him. At a wave from Esarhaddon, some guards rush to help and slowly make their way out the door, leaving a yet another trail of blood behind them. 

    Lost in a reverie, Esarhaddon walks up to the altar, pulling the curtain back to see his father's lifeless form clearly. Clutching his father's cooling hand desperately, the king bows his head onto the corpse's chest. Esarhaddon whispers to himself, "It is in your name, father that I take my revenge. Your sons will pay for their crime. I will bring this kingdom back to prosperity." His voice gains strength, "We will have our war." 

    Esarhaddon raises his blood covered head, staring into the empty golden eyes of the idol above him. "And may your god Nisroch seal my blood oath."
This story is based on the account found in 2 Kings and is historically accurate. After the death of King Sennacherib the third brothers fought a desperate war for the throne which destroyed Assyria. The youngest brother Esarhaddon won the war and took his rightful place on the throne, banishing his brothers forever. All of the names are accurate as well as the murder in the temple of Nisroch which was the king's personal idol. Sorry this post was a little late, but I hope you learned something from reading! Thank you.