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Elijah: Jezebel & Ahab’s Wars · The Chosen People

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  Speaker 1: Previously on The Chosen People The morning after Mount Carmel
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  Speaker 1: was quiet. The hills stretched golden under the first breath
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  Speaker 1: of sunlight. Elijah sat outside his home, cross-legged, his fingers
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  Speaker 1: curled around a simple clay cup of watered wine. For
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  Speaker 1: the first time in years, the tension in his body
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  Speaker 1: had begun to uncoil. The fire had fallen. The heavens opened,
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  Speaker 1: rain had come, and the people collapsed in worship to Yahweh.
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  Speaker 1: Maybe Israel would finally return. Maybe Jezebel's grip had begun
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  Speaker 1: to slip. But the quiet was interrupted by the sound
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  Speaker 1: of running, a messenger.
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  Speaker 2: By this time tomorrow, your blood will stain the earth.
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  Speaker 3: You will not die a hero. You will not die
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  Speaker 3: a martyr.
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  Speaker 2: You will die as a man abandoned, screaming for a
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  Speaker 2: god who will not answer, and only the rats will
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  Speaker 2: mourn you.
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  Speaker 4: That's not ink, my lord. It's blood.
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  Speaker 1: The blood of the prophets of Baal. Elijah went white.
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  Speaker 1: He didn't think, didn't speak, didn't breathe. He just ran.
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  Speaker 1: The throne room of Samaria reeked of sweat and stale wine,
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  Speaker 1: the air thick with the sour tang of a ruler
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  Speaker 1: who had long abandoned discipline. Ahab, king of Israel, slumped
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  Speaker 1: in his ornate seat, a cup of wine dangling precariously
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  Speaker 1: from his fingers. He was a man who had once
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  Speaker 1: commanded armies. but had since found solace in the dull
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  Speaker 1: embrace of indulgence. His robes, once pristine, were stained with
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  Speaker 1: food and drink, his girth straining against the fabric. A
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  Speaker 1: servant hesitated at his side, uncertain whether to refill the
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  Speaker 1: goblet or wait for permission that never came. The doors
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  Speaker 1: groaned open and a scout stumbled in, breathless and wide-eyed
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  Speaker 1: with terror.
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  Speaker 3: My king, the Arameans are here. They march upon Samaria.
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  Speaker 1: Ahab squinted at the man, as though struggling to comprehend
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  Speaker 1: words that did not involve drink or leisure. He exhaled heavily,
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  Speaker 1: shifting in his seat with the effort of a man
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  Speaker 1: unused to sudden movement.
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  Speaker 3: Here I am, all ready.
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  Speaker 1: Let them march.
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  Speaker 3: Walls stand for a reason, Jezebel. Jezebel?
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  Speaker 5: Jezebel!
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  Speaker 3: Where is that woman?
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  Speaker 1: As if conjured by the mention of her name, Queen
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  Speaker 1: Jezebel appeared in the doorway, her presence sharp and cold,
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  Speaker 1: the flickering torchlight carving shadows across her angular face. She
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  Speaker 1: was not adorned in full regalia. But even in a
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  Speaker 1: simple gown, she commanded more authority in a single glance
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  Speaker 1: than Ahab did with his crown. She studied her husband,
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  Speaker 1: then the scout, then the cup in Ahab's hand and sighed.
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  Speaker 1: Drunk before noon.
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  Speaker 2: Impressive, even for you.
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  Speaker 1: Ahab's fingers twitched. He dared not meet her gaze directly.
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  Speaker 1: How many? The scout swallowed hard.
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  Speaker 3: All of them, my king.
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  Speaker 6: Ben-Hadad has come with thirty-two kings and their armies. Their
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  Speaker 6: camp stretches beyond the hills.
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  Speaker 3: They send a messenger.
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  Speaker 1: Jezebel's expression remained unreadable, but her fingers tapped absently against
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  Speaker 1: her wrist. Ahab groaned, pushing himself upright with considerable effort.
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  Speaker 3: Let's hear what the dog wants. What did the messenger say?
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  Speaker 6: Thus speaks Ben-Hadad, king of Aram. Your silver and your
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  Speaker 6: gold are mine. Your best wives and children are also mine.
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  Speaker 6: Give them freely and Samaria will remain untouched.
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  Speaker 1: Silence swallowed the room. Ahab blinked, his mind sluggish with
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  Speaker 1: wine and disbelief. Jezebel folded her arms, her lips twitching slightly.
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  Speaker 1: as though she had just been told an amusing joke.
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  Speaker 4: My wives, my silver, he can't.
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  Speaker 1: Jezebel interrupted, stepping closer, her voice a blade through the
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  Speaker 1: murk of his hesitation.
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  Speaker 3: Oh, he can. And why not?
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  Speaker 2: He is a real king, after all.
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  Speaker 1: Ahab's stomach tightened. There was something in her voice, something pointed.
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  Speaker 1: She watched him now. like a cat watching a mouse
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  Speaker 1: struggle beneath its paw. Ben-Hadad is a conqueror, a warrior.
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  Speaker 2: I imagine he takes what he wants with strength and confidence.
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  Speaker 1: Ahab's fingers clenched the goblet. A cruel smirk ghosted across
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  Speaker 1: Jezebel's lips before she turned away as though bored.
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  Speaker 3: Tell Ben-Hadad. Tell him it is as he says. He
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  Speaker 3: may have what he asks for.
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  Speaker 1: The messenger nodded once and turned to leave. Jezebel tilted
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  Speaker 1: her head, her expression unreadable. As soon as the doors
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  Speaker 1: shut behind him, she turned to Ahab, voice like venom
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  Speaker 1: wrapped in silk.
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  Speaker 2: The great king of Israel, bowing like a servant. What
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  Speaker 2: a legacy.
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  Speaker 1: Ahab flinched, his throat working soundlessly. Before he could answer,
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  Speaker 1: the doors burst open again. The same scout returned.
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  Speaker 6: Ben-Hadad sends new terms. He says that he will not
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  Speaker 6: only take your gold, your wives and your children, but
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  Speaker 6: tomorrow his men will enter Samaria and take whatever pleases them.
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  Speaker 1: The man trembled, wondering if he should relay the next part.
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  Speaker 6: He suggests you set the tables and pour the wine
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  Speaker 6: in preparation.
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  Speaker 1: Ahab's face darkened. For all his weaknesses, even he could
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  Speaker 1: recognize when he was being mocked. He looked to Jezebel,
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  Speaker 1: but for once, she remained silent, her face unreadable. His
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  Speaker 1: gaze swept the room, meeting the eyes of his elders
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  Speaker 1: and officials.
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  Speaker 3: Council? What do you say?
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  Speaker 1: The elders, sensing the line that had been crossed, murmured
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  Speaker 1: among themselves before one stepped forward. Do not listen to him,
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  Speaker 1: nor agree to his terms. Ahab swallowed, suddenly more sober
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  Speaker 1: than he had been all day. He turned back to
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  Speaker 1: the messenger, straightening with effort.
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  Speaker 3: Tell Ben-Hadad that I agree to his first demand, but this,
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  Speaker 3: this I will not allow.
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  Speaker 1: The young man bowed and departed. One of the elders
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  Speaker 1: shifted in his seat. We may need to prepare for war,
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  Speaker 1: my king. Silence held the room in its grip. Then
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  Speaker 1: Jezebel exhaled sharply and walked toward the balcony, looking out
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  Speaker 1: over the city below. Ahab hesitated before following, standing beside her.
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  Speaker 1: His breath reeked of drink, but his hands trembled less
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  Speaker 1: than before. We cannot win this fight. Jezebel didn't look
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  Speaker 1: at him.
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  Speaker 3: Then you should pray that your god intervenes, if he
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  Speaker 3: still listens to cowards.
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  Speaker 1: Ahab closed his eyes. Below, in the distant hills, fires
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  Speaker 1: burned as the Aramean army settled into their siege. Thunder
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  Speaker 1: rumbled overhead. A storm was coming. And for the first
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  Speaker 1: time in years, Ahab wondered if the god of Israel
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  Speaker 1: might still be watching. The throne room was quieter now,
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  Speaker 1: the weight of impending war settling over Samaria like a fog.
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  Speaker 1: Ahab sat hunched forward, his fingers tangled in his beard,
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  Speaker 1: his goblet untouched at his side. For once he was sober,
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  Speaker 1: though the lack of wine did little to ease the
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  Speaker 1: churning in his gut. The heavy doors creaked open and
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  Speaker 1: a lone figure entered, a prophet. Not Elijah, thank the heavens,
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  Speaker 1: but another one. This prophet was known as Azarel. He
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  Speaker 1: moved with the ease of a man who knew the
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  Speaker 1: ending of the story before it had begun. He spoke
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  Speaker 1: in measured tones, his words deliberate, each syllable dripping with
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  Speaker 1: an almost theatrical patience. His robes were simple, but his
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  Speaker 1: posture was that of a king addressing a lesser man.
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  Speaker 1: He did not hurry, nor did he fawn.
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  Speaker 4: Thus says the Lord. Have you seen this great multitude? Behold,
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  Speaker 4: I will deliver it into your hand this day, and
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  Speaker 4: you shall know that I am the Lord.
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  Speaker 3: And by what means? We have no strength to stand
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  Speaker 3: against them.
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  Speaker 4: The junior officers of the provincial commanders shall begin the attack.
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  Speaker 4: The battle shall not be won by might nor by numbers,
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  Speaker 4: but by the hand of the Almighty.
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  Speaker 1: The junior officers?
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  Speaker 3: The untested? You would send boys to die?
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  Speaker 4: Ah, but you misunderstand, my king. It is not their
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  Speaker 4: hands that shall bring victory, nor yours. But they will
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  Speaker 4: strike first, and when they do, the enemy will waver.
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  Speaker 3: But these small runts can't fight a vast army.
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  Speaker 4: You have truly forgotten your history, King Ahab. Is that
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  Speaker 4: not all that the Lord has done since our nation's beginnings? Moses,
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  Speaker 4: the exile. Gideon, the coward. David.
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  Speaker 3: Yes, yes, yes, you've made your point.
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  Speaker 1: Ahab exhaled through his nose. He wanted to argue, to
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  Speaker 1: dismiss it. But something gnawed at him, something deeper than fear.
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  Speaker 3: Who shall start the battle?
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  Speaker 1: Azarel smiled, a slow, knowing thing, like a cat playing
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  Speaker 1: with a bird. You will. Ahab swallowed hard. He sat
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  Speaker 1: there for a long moment, fingers drumming against his throne. Then, finally,
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  Speaker 1: he stood. Tell the commanders to prepare. Azarel inclined his
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  Speaker 1: head as if he had already known the decision before
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  Speaker 1: it was spoken. Then he turned and walked out, his
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  Speaker 1: robe swaying with the weight of inevitability. Ahab stared after him,
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  Speaker 1: his stomach twisting. He had expected a prophet to bring doom,
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  Speaker 1: to curse him, to declare judgment upon his head. But
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  Speaker 1: this one had brought something far worse. Expectation. The sun
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  Speaker 1: hung low over Samaria's walls, bathing the land in gold
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  Speaker 1: as the first trumpets blared. Outside the city, the Arameans
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  Speaker 1: lounged in their sprawling camp, Confident, overfed, their leaders drowning
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  Speaker 1: in drink. Ben Haddad himself reclined beneath a vast canopy,
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  Speaker 1: goblet in hand, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles along
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  Speaker 1: the rim. He was draped in silks, posture languid, voice
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  Speaker 1: dripping with indulgent condescension.
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  Speaker 5: How quaint. The Israelites march against us. A king should
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  Speaker 5: know when to kneel, not to dance upon the edge
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  Speaker 5: of the plain.
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  Speaker 1: Ben-Hadad gestured for his commanders.
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  Speaker 5: These Israeliters are like kittens bearing their fangs. No doubt
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  Speaker 5: they'll run when the fight gets too hot to handle.
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  Speaker 5: Prepare to take prisoners. Lots of them.
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  Speaker 1: Outside. The Israelite forces surged forward, green but determined. The
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  Speaker 1: battle was not grand, not the clash of titanic forces,
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  Speaker 1: but it was sharp, quick and ruthless. The untested junior
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  Speaker 1: officers fought like men with something to prove, cutting through
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  Speaker 1: the first line of Aramean defences with startling precision. Panic
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  Speaker 1: spread through the enemy camp, What had started as a
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  Speaker 1: jest turned to confusion, then fear. Shouts of alarm rippled
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  Speaker 1: through the tents. The generals stumbled over themselves, shouting orders
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  Speaker 1: between gulps of wine. Ben-Hadad's lazy smirk faltered as he
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  Speaker 1: pushed himself upright.
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  Speaker 3: Mount the horses. Rally the men. Do not try to
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  Speaker 3: embarrass yourselves further.
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  Speaker 1: But it was too late. The initial push had turned
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  Speaker 1: into a rout, the Arameans scattering in disarray as Israel
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  Speaker 1: pursued them. Ben-Hadad, once so sure of his victory, now
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  Speaker 1: found himself gripping the reins of his horse with sweaty
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  Speaker 1: fingers as he fled for his life. Back in Samaria,
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  Speaker 1: Ahab stood atop the city walls watching the enemy retreat.
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  Speaker 1: His breath came heavy. and his hands trembled. Against all reason,
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  Speaker 1: the prophet had been right. Ahab returned to the palace,
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  Speaker 1: the echoes of battle still ringing in his ears. He
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  Speaker 1: should have been triumphant, elated even, but instead he felt hollow.
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  Speaker 1: The throne room was dimly lit, a few flickering torches
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  Speaker 1: casting shadows along the stone walls. Jezebel was So, you won.
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  Speaker 1: The Lord gave them into our hands.
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  Speaker 4: Oh, yes! Yes, yes!
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  Speaker 1: How fortunate for you!
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  Speaker 2: But tell me, my king, do you really believe he
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  Speaker 2: did this for you?
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  Speaker 3: Or did he do it despite you?
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  Speaker 1: What do you mean?
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  Speaker 2: Elijah and the prophets of Yahweh decry me and my
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  Speaker 2: prophets for our blood sacrifices. But I have come to
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  Speaker 2: discover something. Your God is more bloodthirsty than mine.
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  Speaker 1: Jezebel leaned against the balcony and threw her head back.
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  Speaker 3: And when you.
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  Speaker 2: When you inevitably fail on that battlefield, your god will
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  Speaker 2: turn on you.
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  Speaker 3: Mark my words!
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  Speaker 1: She stepped closer, her voice dropping to something soft, something sharp.
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  Speaker 3: He's a petty and jealous one, your god.
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  Speaker 2: He always demands something.
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  Speaker 3: I followed the word of the prophet. It seems obedience
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  Speaker 3: is all he required.
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  Speaker 2: And you follow orders like a.
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  Speaker 3: Good little boy.
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  Speaker 2: But one slip and you will fall from your God's
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  Speaker 2: good graces. And I'll be here reveling in the mess,
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  Speaker 2: feasting on the carcass of your shame.
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  Speaker 1: It will be.
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  Speaker 3: Delicious.
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  Speaker 1: She leaned in, whispering, her breath warm against his ear.
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  Speaker 2: The Lord of Israel will abandon you.
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  Speaker 1: Just you wait. She turned and walked away, her silhouette
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  Speaker 1: vanishing into the darkened corridors. Ahab stood alone, the weight
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  Speaker 1: of the crown heavier than ever. The halls of Samaria
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  Speaker 1: still carried the scent of victory, but Ahab's hands were clammy.
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  Speaker 1: He had barely settled onto his throne when the doors
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  Speaker 1: creaked open once more. Azarel entered, slow, deliberate, his expression
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  Speaker 1: void of triumph.
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  Speaker 4: Thus says the Lord. Because the Arameans have said, The
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  Speaker 4: Lord is a god of the hills and not the valleys.
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  Speaker 4: I will give this vast army into your hands once more,
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  Speaker 4: and you shall know that I am the Lord.
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  Speaker 1: Ahab's lip twitched.
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  Speaker 3: Another battle? The man fled like a rat. Let him run.
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  Speaker 4: Oh, he will. But he will return, and the Lord
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  Speaker 4: will give you victory once more.
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  Speaker 3: Though, I wonder.
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  Speaker 4: Do you truly wish to know the Lord Ahab or
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  Speaker 4: only his victories?
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  Speaker 3: You prophets always speak in riddles. What does it matter
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  Speaker 3: why I fight so long as I win?
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  Speaker 4: Because, my king, the Lord sees the heart and yours
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  Speaker 4: is running out of places to hide.
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  Speaker 1: Ahab exhaled sharply. but said nothing. Azarel's eyes gleamed, almost amused.
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  Speaker 4: We shall see.
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  Speaker 1: The valley stretched wide, dust swirling around the feet of
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  Speaker 1: the assembled armies. Ahab stood at the head of his ranks,
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  Speaker 1: his pulse steady. His men were outnumbered, but Azarel's words
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  Speaker 1: lingered in his mind. Ben-Hadad watched from afar, perched atop
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  Speaker 1: his warhorse, smug.
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  Speaker 5: Let's see how their god fights on even ground.
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  Speaker 1: The horn sounded. The battle began. But it was not
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  Speaker 1: a battle. It was a slaughter. The Arameans, confident in
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  Speaker 1: their terrain, broke like dry twigs beneath the weight of
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  Speaker 1: Israel's charge Ben-Hadad's confidence shattered as his men fell his
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  Speaker 1: horse bucked beneath him panicked nostrils flaring Ben-Hadad turned eyes
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  Speaker 1: wide breath shallow His sword fell from his grip. The
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  Speaker 1: mighty army of Aram crumbled before him. Ahab sat in
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  Speaker 1: his war tent, sweat cooling on his brow. Before him,
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  Speaker 1: on his knees, was Ben-Hadad, filthy, trembling. eyes darting like
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  Speaker 1: a cornered jackal. My lord, mercy. We are brothers, are
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  Speaker 1: we not?
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  Speaker 3: Let us make peace.
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  Speaker 1: Ahab leaned forward, studying him. The man who had sneered,
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  Speaker 1: who had toyed with him, now looked like nothing more
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  Speaker 1: than a broken thing. A brother, yes. You shall live.
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  Speaker 4: Have you asked the lord, Ahab?
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  Speaker 1: Ben-Hadad exhaled, almost laughing in relief. Ahab smiled faintly. He
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  Speaker 1: had won. He had the power to grant mercy, to
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  Speaker 1: rule as he pleased. But behind him in the shadows,
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  Speaker 1: Azarel turned his head slightly, exhaling through his nose. The
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  Speaker 1: streets of Samaria were thick with the kind of celebration
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  Speaker 1: that only followed war. Not the grief-stricken mourning of the defeated,
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  Speaker 1: but the sickly, desperate relief of the survivors. The banners
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  Speaker 1: of Israel rippled in the evening wind. The people cheered,
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  Speaker 1: their voices raw from praise, lifting Ahab's name as if
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  Speaker 1: it could drown out the memory of the blood just
• 21:58
  Speaker 1: barely dry on the battlefield. Ahab dismounted from his chariot,
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  Speaker 1: his hands stiff on the reins, his muscles aching from
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  Speaker 1: the long ride. The scent of war still clung to him, sweat, leather,
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  Speaker 1: the metallic bite of iron, and death. But there was
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  Speaker 1: a small, flickering part of him that dared to believe
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  Speaker 1: this day had been good, that perhaps just this once
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  Speaker 1: he had done something right. And then the shadow stepped
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  Speaker 1: forth A single man, cloaked and hooded, standing among the
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  Speaker 1: revelers like a stone in a river. The people parted
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  Speaker 1: around him without knowing why, their jubilation dimming as if
• 22:45
  Speaker 1: someone had snuffed out a torch. The figure's hood lifted
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  Speaker 1: just enough to reveal a face of a prophet. Not Elijah,
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  Speaker 1: nor Azariel. Ahab didn't recognize this one. though the kind
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  Speaker 1: of dread that prophets brought was always familiar. The man's
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  Speaker 1: voice rang out, clear, unshaken, the kind of voice that
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  Speaker 1: carried the weight of the divine.
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  Speaker 3: Ahab, you fool!
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  Speaker 1: You think you know better than the Lord?
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  Speaker 3: Because you have let an evil king live whom the.
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  Speaker 5: Lord had determined should die, your own life shall be
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  Speaker 5: for his life, your people for his people.
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  Speaker 1: Ahab's breath hitched. The words struck like a whip, lashing
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  Speaker 1: deep beneath his skin, down into the marrow of something
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  Speaker 1: he had spent his life trying to keep from rotting.
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  Speaker 4: He knew.
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  Speaker 1: Of course he knew. The Lord had wanted Ben-Hadad dead,
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  Speaker 1: had wanted his justice carried out, swift and unflinching, like
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  Speaker 1: the edge of a sword through a traitor's throat. Ahab
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  Speaker 1: had spared him instead, had played the benevolent king, had
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  Speaker 1: reached for mercy with a hand that wasn't his to extend,
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  Speaker 1: and now the weight of his own mercy turned to
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  Speaker 1: iron shackles.
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  Speaker 3: This, this is how my victory is repaid?
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  Speaker 1: The prophet did not answer, only stared. The silence stretched,
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  Speaker 1: an unbearable thing, pressing down on Ahab until he could
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  Speaker 1: feel it in his ribs, could hear it beneath the
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  Speaker 1: cheers of the people, their celebration now hollow, distant, as
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  Speaker 1: though he stood in a dream, a nightmare. Ahab turned,
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  Speaker 1: desperate to find solace in the faces of his people,
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  Speaker 1: in the joy that had been his just moments ago.
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  Speaker 1: But now all he could see were mouths moving without meaning,
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  Speaker 1: hands raised in praise for a king already doomed. He
• 25:04
  Speaker 1: swallowed hard, his throat tight. Ahab had always known that
• 25:10
  Speaker 1: Yahweh's prophets never spoke lightly, and they never spoke in vain.
• 25:16
  Speaker 1: The judgment had been rendered, and in his bones Ahab knew.
• 25:23
  Speaker 1: His time was running out. This PrayDogCon production is only
• 25:35
  Speaker 1: made possible by our dedicated team of creative talents. Steve Katina,
• 25:40
  Speaker 1: Max Bard, Zach Shellevaga and Ben Gammon are the executive
• 25:43
  Speaker 1: producers of The Chosen People, narrated by Paul Coltofianu. Characters
• 25:48
  Speaker 1: are voiced by Jonathan Cotton, Aaron Salvato, Sarah Seltz, Mike Reagan,
• 25:54
  Speaker 1: Stephen Ringwald, Sylvia Zaradok, Thomas Copeland Jr., Rosanna Pilcher, and
• 26:00
  Speaker 1: Mitch Lashinsky. Music by Andrew Morgan Smith. written by Aaron Salvato,
• 26:05
  Speaker 1: Brie Rosely, and Chris Baig. You can hear more Prey.com
• 26:09
  Speaker 1: productions on the Prey.com app, available on the Apple App
• 26:13
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  Speaker 1: please rate and leave a review.