Escape from Paradise: The Hebrew's Deliverance or Egypt's Destruction

By R.S Smith

Escape from Paradise, book II of The Lion Awakes series, reveals some of history’s most ancient mysteries. Based on archaeological discoveries and ancient texts, Escape from Paradise follows Two Sons from Egypt, portraying the destinies of Amenhotep II, Pharaoh of the Exodus, and the Hebrew prophet Moses, bringing to life this battle of gods and men. The explosion of an island north of the Delta, the mysterious death of a royal son of the 18th dynasty, and the remains of an army of the same period recently found at the bottom of the Red Sea are some of the factual evidences woven into the fabric of this timeless tale.

How would the Egyptians have reacted to the plagues, and what would Pharaoh’s response have been to the challenge to match the miracles Experience the Exodus through the eyes of the Egyptians, reliving the catastrophes that brought one nation to its knees while providing an escape for the other. In a fast paced colorful style, Escape from Paradise portrays actual characters and events in a tale of adventure, conflict, and intrigue. Discover the story behind the biblical account that continues to reverberate throughout history.

“ . . . every day I encounter dozens of would-be writers who want someone to take a look at their work. And, as you might expect, there are only a handful with skills that show true merit. That’s why I encourage you to take a look at this book . . . There’s a great story here . . ..”

Steve Manning

www.WriteABookNow.com

Soon to come are books III and IV of this series: Out of the Desert, and The Crimson Chord; and the nonfiction companion books: Discovering Moses and the Exodus: A Faith Building Adventure, and Discovering a Way through the Wilderness: Finding God in the Journey, books I and II of the Discover Truth series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jul 27, 2012
• ISBN: 9781477248430

R.S Smith

R. S. Smith has been a writer and columnist for over twenty years, and besides having written Two Sons from Egypt, book I of The Lion Awakes fiction series, the author is currently completing books III and IV: Out of the Desert, and The Crimson Chord. Look for the companion nonfiction of the Discover Truth series: Discovering Moses and the Exodus: A Faith Building Adventure, book I; and Discovering a Way Through the Wilderness: Finding God in the Journey, book II. The author has a Bachelor of Arts in creative writing and Christian ministries, and currently pastors a church and a mission, enjoys history, collecting fossils, and has a growing archive of books and notes on ancient Egypt and Israel.

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© 2012 by R.S. Smith. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 07/23/2012

ISBN: 978-1-4772-4844-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4772-4843-0 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012912787

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

<<>>Contents<<>>

Introduction

Map

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Epilogue

Author’s Bio

Endnotes

<<>>Introduction<<>>

One of the ancient world’s most acclaimed events was the Exodus of the Hebrews from Egypt. Recent evidence unearthed at Jericho, and Ron Wyatt’s discoveries at the Red Sea suggest the Exodus occurred in the mid 1500’s B.C. during the 18th dynasty.¹,² If this is true, Moses would have lived 300 years prior to Rameses, contemporary with the Thutmoses and Egypt’s first female pharaoh, Hatshepsut.³

Like the pieces of a puzzle, the events surrounding the Exodus fit together with more than coincidental design as more and more evidence is revealed substantiating the biblical account. Though some details remain unknown, enough have been discovered to prove the story a historical event.

Escape from Paradise follows a volcanic eruption and the subsequent destruction of Thera, an island metropolis 450 miles north of the Delta. Many believe the catastrophe occurred during this early dating of the Exodus, which would have triggered many of the plagues. This does not mean God’s power was lessened in the miracle of the Exodus, but that as Creator and Lord of the elements He can orchestrate natural events for His purposes.

Historians have long noted the resemblance between the Ten Plagues, as recorded in the Bible, and disasters accompanying volcanic eruptions. The surrounding waters may turn a rusty red, fish are poisoned, and accompanying meteorological disturbances frequently create whirlwinds, swamps, and red rain.⁴,⁵

Scripture supports this succession in the disasters that followed each other within the biblical account: water turned blood red, fish died, and frogs fled polluted rivers to be fed upon by flies and other pests. While these calamities often occurred in Egypt, the ‘plagues’ were more severe, having a magnitude and specificity that could only be attributed to divine intervention.

Further, common among events following volcanic activity, the Bible notes that unusual weather patterns occurred causing hail, bringing locusts on a strong east wind, and spreading volcanic fallout with darkness that could be felt (Exodus 10:21). Those living near Mt. St. Helens, as I was, when it erupted in 1980 can attest to both the darkness and the grit covering everything exposed: a darkness that could be felt.

Of those who hold to the early dating of the Exodus, most believe Pharaoh Amenhotep II to have ruled at the time, historically known for his ruthlessness and pride, confirming the stiff neck and hard heart of the biblical account (Exodus 7:3, 13, 22, 8:15, etc.) Interestingly, the upper half of his mummified body is covered with unidentified nodules, as one archaeologist put it, evidence of a plague.⁶

Excerpts from ancient papyri, such as those of Ipuwer, also support the biblical account, referring to plagues that turned water to blood, darkened the sun, and in which cattle and vegetation died.⁷

The most dramatic finding, however, was the discovery of a Prince from the New Kingdom found in the Valley of the Kings in a cache of royal mummies. This mummy is unique and evidences a particularly painful death as his limbs were grotesquely twisted and his face constricted to such a degree that some believe he was poisoned. Yet unlike any royal mummy ever found, this Prince was never embalmed but was completely sewn in a sheepskin, even though sheep were an abomination to the Egyptians due to the earlier Hyksos’ invasion.

The Hyksos were Shepherd Kings who occupied the Delta and were also of Semitic origin, as were the Hebrews (also called Habiru or Apiru). It is likely the Hyksos were ruling when Joseph and his family entered Egypt, and were later enslaved under a new king who knew not Joseph (Exodus 1:8), an Egyptian named Thutmose I who overthrew the Hyksos and re-established Egypt’s rule.

Further adding to the mystery of this Prince is that his identity and cause of death were kept secret by the priesthood at Thebes for centuries, so that today no one knows who he was except that he was a royal son from the 18th dynasty. If he died in the final plague, his death would have been at Yahweh’s hand, bringing shame to the Egyptians… thus the secrecy.

"This body has been treated in a manner that differs from all other known mummies of the time of the New Empire, to which presumably it belongs… . It was wrapped in a sheepskin, then a thick layer of bandages . . . . The inspectors of the necropolis continued to give him the honour due to a Prince and to keep quiet concerning his name and the cause of his death. Not one of them dared to write on his casket or on his wrappings the least of the things that were so freely written on the caskets of others… ."⁸

Might this be the Prince who died at the hand of the death angel prior to the Exodus? Most archaeologists agree that Amenhotep’s successor, Thutmose IV, was adopted, due to inscriptions inferring his having earned his right to the throne, which further support the biblical account.

Following this chaotic period a new religious order arose in Egypt, a revolution of sorts, which began shortly after this dating of the Exodus, culminating in a monotheism that nearly wiped out the myriad of Egypt’s other gods. Little wonder, as Yahweh, the God of slaves, had proven mightier than the host of Egypt’s deities, impressing the events of the Exodus on the Egyptians for generations.

Based on historical evidence and the biblical account, and told primarily from the Egyptian’s perspective, the untold story of the Exodus is revealed in Escape from Paradise, the second book in The Lion Awakes series, with the companion nonfiction Discovering Moses and the Exodus: A Faith Building Adventure available for those interested in the facts behind the fiction.

For I know that the Lord is great, and that our Lord is above all gods. Whatsoever the Lord pleased, that did He in heaven, and in earth, in the seas and in all deep places.

Psalm 135:5-6

Map

Map%20for%20Moses%20Books%20R%20S%20Smith%20June%202012.jpg

<<>>Prologue<<>>

Ron Wyatt, an amateur archaeologist from the United States, stood on the bank of the Gulf of Aqaba looking oddly out of place in his swimming trunks and sun glasses on the deserted beach. He and his two sons, Danny and Ronnie, had accompanied him here to Nuweiba on another of their father’s archaeological adventures, following what Ron believed was a biblical roadmap to the Red Sea crossing.

Walled about by impassable mountains, the wide sandy beach harbours an ancient Egyptian fortress that still stands as if guarding the northern end. Ron was sure this was the site of the crossing as it was the only beach large enough to hold several million people, and was consistent with the landmarks mentioned in Exodus 14:2: Speak unto the children of Israel, that they turn and encamp before Pi-hahiroth, between Migdol and the sea, over against Baal-zephon… .

The fort may have been named Pi-hahiroth, Egyptian meaning canyon or opening, as it guarded the only opening through the mountains to the beach, the Wadi Watir, still the single means of accessing the beach. Migdol, meaning watchtower, likely referred to a citadel perched on a cliff near the beach that sent and received signals, and from which we know King Solomon watched for ships. Baal-zephon, meaning Baal (lord) of the North, was over against Pi-hahiroth and Migdol, and is likely the ruins of a fort directly across the Gulf of Aqaba on the opposite shore.

Of particular interest were two identical inscribed columns Ron had previously discovered, one on the west shore, and the other on the eastern, across the eleven mile gulf in Arabia. They appeared to be ancient markers commemorating an event, the one on the west side having been submerged in water, wearing away most of the writing. But the one on the Arabian side was preserved enough to decipher a revealing collection of words in ancient Hebrew: Moses, Yahweh, pharaoh, Mizraim (Egypt), Solomon, and Edom.

Had Solomon marked this ancient historical site as the place of the Red Sea crossing? Ron believed so, thus the two pillars directly opposite each other, carved with the words of that still famous story.

The Bible even mentions a column, said Danny, his son.

Yes, Ron answered, checking his diving apparatus. "I think it’s in Isaiah.

The youth fumbled through the worn Bible and moved his finger down the page to Isaiah 19:19, reading loud enough for his father and brother to hear. In that day there will be an altar to the Lord in the midst of the land of Egypt, and a pillar to the Lord at its border.

There you have it, Ron stated, occupied with putting his diving gear on.

What do you think we’ll find today? Ronnie asked, also suiting up for the dive. More chariot wheels?

Probably, their father answered. I’d like a picture or two of an axel and other chariot parts; maybe even some bones. Ron picked up a bag and grabbed his underwater camera, handing it to Ronnie who put the strap around his neck. Appearing like aliens on the otherwise barren beach, they began their descent down the gentle slope of sand into the salty sea. Ronnie would take pictures of all the relics they could find, which they would later analyse with digital enhancement. The sharp angles and round contours of manmade objects were easily decipherable on the seabed, though encrusted with coral.

Danny stayed to watch the equipment that had already cost Ron and his wife, Mary, most of their savings, though she fully supported her husband’s obsession with biblical archaeology. Any proof he could bring back would help persuade the sceptics who were always nipping at his heels.

Ron and his son waded into the blue, stepping beneath the glistening surface, and as on previous visits, found the water unusually clear, making it easy to study the smooth, sandy bottom. They followed the seabed to a depth of approximately 200 feet, finding it consistently smooth and shallow compared to the rest of the gulf, making it easy to search for ancient treasures. This land bridge as Ron called it, was approximately half mile wide and ten to eleven miles long. On either side of this raised ridge the seabed dropped to a startling depth of three to five thousand feet, deeper in places than the Grand Canyon. It was more than amazing that two wadis on opposite sides of the gulf washed silt and sand into the exact same place, meeting perfectly to provide a gently sloping ridge, an underwater path so to speak, across the Red Sea.

Almost as soon as Ron and his son entered the deeper water they began seeing the coral encrusted remains of chariot wheels and what appeared to be a chariot cab. Because of the depth and clarity, objects on the seabed appeared larger than they actually were. Ron pointed to several coral covered wheels, with an axel still attached to one, and Ronnie took the pictures. Ron saw what looked like a femur bone, also encased in coral, and dove down to retrieve it. He recognized arrow heads, a few clay jars, and a gold chariot wheel with four spokes.

Ron picked up what he thought was a horse’s hoof and tucked it into his bag, motioning his son to the surface. They had searched nearly a mile of the shallow bed, and though Ron wished he could go farther, he knew he would have to employ the use of more specialized equipment for his next trip. A small submarine would be ideal.

There was more evidence here than he could possibly document by himself, and not all of it recognizable after four thousand years under the sea. The axels and wheels were obvious due to the shapes and angels, with some still connected to each other. Most of the wheels had six spokes, some had eight, and the rarest, made of gold, had only four, possibly an ornamental chariot used by a priest.

This had to be the remains of Pharaoh’s army. There was no other possible explanation, even for those who didn’t believe the Bible to be true. The fact that he had found wheels with four, six and eight spokes dated this find specifically to the late 18th Dynasty of Egypt. This had to be the Red Sea crossing!

Danny almost danced with anticipation on the shore as he watched them emerge, listening to their descriptions of what they had seen and looking over the few articles they had retrieved. They couldn’t bring back most of the items, such as the wheels, as the wood had long since deteriorated, preserved only by the coral. In fact, most of the relics, including the gold wheel, were too delicate and could not be disturbed without destroying them.

But Ron and his sons had gotten what they came for: proof that this was indeed the best candidate for the biblical Red Sea crossing. And though he had only collected a few items, he had taken enough pictures and found enough evidence to warrant a serious search. He had found all of this just off western shore. What would he find on the eastern side, or over the entire length, for that matter? If Pharaoh and his army had been destroyed here, there would be evidence scattered across most of the surface of the ridge.

Who was the Pharaoh of the 18th Dynasty that hardened his heart in spite of the miracles he witnessed? And what other evidence might be found of the Hebrews’ miraculous escape?

Ron had discovered an ancient map that referred to this beach as Nuwayba’ al Muzayyinah, the Water of Moses’ Opening.

Ron smiled as he took off his gear, knowing he had found the site of the Red Sea crossing. Armed with faith and energized by his find, Ron was certain Pharaoh’s army lay at the bottom of the Gulf of Aqaba, waiting to be discovered. This find not only proved the Bible true, but brought history to life, confirming the date and characters. With this part of the ancient story established, those within it could now speak for themselves.

<<>>Chapter 1<<>>

A scatter of campfires dotted the desert beneath an arch of stars as Pharaoh Amenhotep rode toward his encamped army. He breathed deeply of the night air, the swell of victory making him feel even taller and more muscular than he already appeared.

He had just won another campaign in Syria, having hundreds of captives to prove it, chained together at the edge of camp along with an ample supply of gold and goods. He had quelled the rebellion in Nubia, and now again at Mitanni. What more could he do to prove his prowess?

Amenhotep reined his horse to a stop, studying the scene. Would Egypt remember him with as much adoration as they did his father, ‘Conqueror to the Euphrates’? He urged his horse forward and scanned the women and children that cowered together at the edge of the firelight, the few officers of the enemy he had spared appearing worn and anxious. What could he do to win himself the adulation his father still enjoyed even after his death?

He clenched his jaw, thoughts of his father causing him to stiffen. He seethed at the memory of young women who continued to place wreaths at his father’s temple west of Thebes, and to offer gifts in the former Pharaoh’s honour. Would he always stand in his father’s shadow, never winning a name for himself?

The former Pharaoh could hardly have boasted the strength of his son in taming a team of horses, or in pulling the weighty bow which few could even draw. Nor had Thutmose exhibited the same ruthlessness in his final years as Amenhotep had proven in his first. Strapping the Princes of Syria face-down to the helm of his ship, he had sailed back to Egypt after his first campaign, exacting as much fear from his own subjects at the capital as he had battling Syria. But fear did not equal adoration, and now he longed for praise as well.

Amenhotep stared at the encampment as if searching for an answer, a smile breaking across his face. He lashed his horse to a run, approaching the enclosure of captives with the speed of a whirlwind. Jerking the reins to a halt, he leapt to the ground.

Nu-Amon! Tell your men I want trenches dug around these prisoners, double trenches side by side. Dig them in a great circle and end them here, where I stand.

The captain roused his men from their places around the fires, careful not to question. The soldiers set aside their beer and grub, taking what few shovels they could find. They knew better than to hesitate, no matter how senseless the command. More than once they had seen the result of inquiries, and did not want their own names added to the casualties of Pharaoh’s fury.

They shovelled furiously, some on their hands and knees as they scooped the earth in a semicircle, redepositing it in the darkness. After hours of labour a waist high trench stretched about the prisoners, followed by another a few feet from it.

As the exhausted soldiers stood to their feet, Amenhotep smiled. Now fill them with branches and brush, anything you can find that burns, and light it.

All eyes widened him wonderingly, but in the next instant everyone moved into action, scrounging the darkness for whatever tinder they could find, filling the trenches with brush and whatever would burn.

At last Amenhotep heaved a sigh of satisfaction. Good. Now strike the flint and I will light it myself, then you may retire –– all but the scribes. There was a scurry of activity, and soon firelight danced on his countenance as he stood near the trenches. Scribes, record what you see and preserve a record for eternity. He grabbed the battle-axe at the side of his chariot.  . . . Pharaoh guarding his prisoners alone, there being no one with him, and his army too distant to hear him call for their help.

The scribes exchanged glances, their slates on their laps as they squatted in the sand, inscribing Pharaoh’s exact words, detailing everything they saw, and much that they did not.

<<>>

As the sun rose Tasha stirred the over-sized pot of gruel from garnered grain while a steady billow of steam caused her hair to cling in ringlets to her face. She lifted the ladle, pouring a careful scoop of the liquid into the bowl a child held with outstretched arms, carefully balancing it. Another bowl and pair of hands replaced the first as Tasha scooped a second ladleful. The heat would soon be unbearable, and the sun as real a tormentor as any overseer. The adults, who had already eaten, needed all the nourishment they could muster for the day’s labour, while the children finished what was left of the broth.

Tasha’s beauty was still recognizable even after forty years in a slave camp. She pushed a strand of grey away from her eyes and smiled at the row of children awaiting their breakfast. Her eyes softened as she glanced at her own grandchildren, Jesse’s offspring, in the line. God had graciously granted her son, along with the other men of Tju, the right to remain in the village with their families, though they kept busy in the fields until late in the evenings. Jesse’s wife had died in childbirth, though the baby, their final blessing, had survived.

Tasha studied his youngest whose dimpled cheeks and bright eyes revealed a mind eager to grasp all he could of life. She sighed. If only he possessed the freedom to learn and worship, to choose his destiny. Instead, he could only look forward to working the fields as a labourer, bent over the earth for hours day after day, or stomping straw into the mud at any number of brick-pits for Pharaoh’s building projects.

If only Moses… . Tasha looked away, purposefully diverting her attention from the direction of such thoughts.

She reached for a stack of bowls and continued ladling to eager children who cupped the warm broth in their hands. The line of bodies would soon drain her pot, after which she would make stew that would simmer until supper. The one blessing Pharaoh had allowed was that most families could dwell together, perhaps because it promoted the increase of the slave population and future labourers.

As Tasha handed out the bowls her mind wandered, her eyes skimming the sky as if to escape into it. Jehovah had treated her well these past years, in spite of Moses’ absence. She had raised her son in the Habiru village of Tju, and though she had never remarried, she had found happiness with her grandchildren. As long as the Habiru enlarged Pharaoh’s cities, farmed his land, tended his cattle, and obeyed the overseers, he left them to themselves, rare blessing that it was. He seemed less interested than his father in making them pay for Moses’ escape.

Tasha dropped her eyes. Nor had this new Pharaoh questioned her about Moses as the previous one had, perhaps because the Egyptians no longer believed Moses lived.

The thought caught her off-guard and she bit her lip, tears springing to her eyes as a knot formed in her throat. If only Moses could have remained in Egypt, albeit in slavery, the ache in her spirit might have soothed. Instead, grief and loneliness had become such a part of her existence she had forgotten what it felt like to be free of it. Yet she gladly embraced it, not allowing herself to forget, or to replace the pain of his absence with another.

The elderly of the village lined up now, and Tasha scooped bowl after bowl, placing each in the weathered hands that reached for them. Nearing the bottom of the pot, she held her breath as she always did, hoping the gruel would last through the myriad of bodies anticipating it.

The task so absorbed her that she did not notice a commotion at the gate, nor the sound of unfamiliar voices drawing near. Instead, bowl after bowl was filled until she could see the bottom of the pot. She had but a few servings left.

A pair of masculine hands reached for the next bowl, wrapping themselves about it until the bowl could hardly be seen. They appeared worn and calloused, lined with the years, yet strong and reliant. Tasha started to tip the pot to scrape the last into his bowl when she heard her name. It seemed years since she had heard it spoken with such tenderness, the tone awakening a distant stir of joy. She pursed her brow, glancing up into the man’s face. Her eyes searched his, then widened as tears stirred in their depths.

The ladle clattered to the ground as her hands flew to her breast. Could it be? Was it possible? Moses! she cried.

<<>>

The covered litter swayed over the hard packed highway, the curtains fluttering with each step of the brown bodied servants who carried it. Inside, bedecked in jewels fitting an introduction to Pharaoh, Isis, mother of the former Pharaoh, and grandmother of the present one, swatted at the flies unduly attracted to the imported perfume she wore especially for the occasion. The pests found their way into the nest of curls atop her head, the newest fashion in hairpieces, and even up the sleeves of her luxuriously sheer robe.

Drat creatures! She thumped here and there, slapping at the specks that whizzed just out of reach as her arms flailed in frustrated jerks and spasms. Dracus, do something, or it will be your head!

The bald Ethiopian peeked through the curtains, his brow furrowed in forced concern, but his eyes betraying his annoyance at her constant complaints. My Lady, remember how you cursed the heat of Thebes, praying for the cooler stretches of the Delta? His gaze pierced hers. Such comfort is not without a price.

Quiet! She smacked him soundly, leaving the imprint of her hand on his bald head. I didn’t ask for bugs and flies, or for your opinion! She swatted the air about her, writhing in discomfort. You should have known better than to suggest this scent of perfume! The flies love it!

She accusingly eyed him, but he motioned to the horizon. Avaris, My Lady, the capital of your grandson.

It’s about time, Isis snapped. I’m simply worn to a stupor from the voyage, and now this tiresome ride.

The steward wisely refrained from comment.

Isis smoothed the folds of her robe and straightened her posture, poking her carefully coiffured head through the curtains to study the sight. A geometric skyline rose above the plain that seemed to stretch into infinity, while the sun shone on the white surfaces as if illuminating dwellings of the gods. And they were, one of them being the palace of Pharaoh Amenhotep II. She sighed, retracting her head and attempting to appear