I have edited this story; therefore I will repost it.
A messenger quickly strode into the hall of the King of Ai in Canaan and approached the throne. “Great King” he said as he bowed. “What news of Jericho?” asked the king. “The city has fallen” the messenger said. The king turned to his commander and said, “Send a detachment of soldiers on the road to Jericho to gather the refugees and bring them into the city.”
“Forgive me for speaking, O King” the messenger interrupted, “There are no refugees.” “What is this?” asked the king. The messenger replied, “The foreigners consecrated the city to their god. Not a single man, woman, child, or animal has been left alive.” The king stood up and said to the assembly, “Quickly gather the peasants and shepherds and their flocks into the city walls. Prepare yourselves for battle.”
When the hall had cleared the king retired with the high priest and priestess to his private chapel, where a tripod stood before the altar of Anat, the Queen of Heaven. The king held his hands over the flame in the tripod and drew blood from his wrists. “By the kingly blood of my fathers I implore the Queen of Heaven to defend us and crush the enemy.”
In the skies above the city of Ai preparations were underway for a heavenly battle like the battle at the city walls below. Anat recounts the scene: “Wearing my black armor and war helmet, I rode on a black horse into the open space between the massed armies of the Lord of Hosts and my own forces, the spirit warriors of Canaan. The Sons of Light had descended from the heights of heaven in the east until they stood before us, 100,000 angels on white horses with golden armor, swords and spears. There were only 10,000 of us. Their leader and champion, the Archangel Michael, came to meet me in the space between the armies. I removed my helmet. Although Michael was much taller than I am, I looked directly into his face, and raising my sword cried out, ‘Leave my people alone!’ Then I hurled the sword at his feet, and it instantly burst into flames. In a moment the flames spread into a wall of fire that separated our armies.
Michael and I rode back to our lines, but only minutes later the Hosts of Light charged through the flames and met my army in bloody combat. I was wounded by an arrow and fell from my horse at the very moment that Joshua and the Israelite commanders marched into my temple in Ai and destroyed my statue at the altar. It was a statue of Anat holding a scimitar in one arm and a spear in the other. A similar image is emblazoned on my shield, a scimitar and a spear.”
The Son of the Lord of Israel slowly rode upon his horse above the city of Ai. Houses were in flames, and a column of black smoke poured into the sky from the Temple of the Queen at the center of the city. The bodies of men, women, and children lay dead in the streets and on the porches of their homes. A little girl still clung to her straw doll, but her neck was broken. The Son of God could not bear to see any more. As though in a daze, he allowed his horse to lead him away toward the west. Dark clouds were gathering, and chaotic currents of wind quickly shifted masses of fog from right to left and back again. High above the Son of the King another King stood upon a thunderhead, robed in black. Ba’al looked down at the solitary figure that seemed to wander aimlessly.
Anat sat upon her horse in the midst of the clouds, surrounded by several of her chosen warriors. A cohort of spirit warriors approached her from the east with a solitary Israelite in their midst. A moment later the Son of the King stood defenseless before the Queen of Heaven, who dismounted and approached him. She removed her black helmet and the two gazed upon each other and studied each others' faces. He might have seen a strikingly beautiful woman with dark hair, light skin, and large gray eyes. Her face held in it an ineffable sorrow, not the sorrow of a day, but of a thousand, thousand years. She might have seen a gentle, compassionate face with refined features, but with strength, for it was the face of a future king.
Anat motioned to her attendant and he handed her a covered silver chalice that was engraved with a crescent moon. She removed the lid and handed the Son of God the chalice, and he took a sip of its water. Then she bent down and picked up a crown that lay at his feet. “It seems, my Lord, that you dropped this” she said, placing it upon his head. “We shouldn’t forget that now, should we.” Then she directed her warriors to take the Son of God back to the front and return him to his angels, who would surely be waiting for him.
The Queen of Heaven stood before her Lord and brother, Ba’al, on the heights of the clouds. As she looked into his face she thought of the ruined city of Ai, and tears filled her eyes. “I have failed. I have failed my people. My people.” He put his arm around her shoulder and brother and sister slowly walked away.
Jesus suddenly woke up and was almost surprised to find himself in his bed. The entire story of the King of Ai, the battle in heaven, and the black-robed woman on the horse had been a dream. The boy rose quickly, for it was time for his Torah and history lesson.
Jesus sat down at a table and his teacher unrolled a scroll. “We will continue our study of the book of the prophet Jeremiah which we began yesterday. Jeremiah condemned the people of Israel for their unfaithfulness to their God, for in violation of His commandment they worshiped the Queen of Heaven, and offered her the sacred cakes that they baked in their ovens. The people defiantly responded that the drought that scourged the land had not been sent by God, but afflicted them because they had neglected the worship of the Queen for generations.” Jesus stared down at the scroll but his eyes did not seem to see the letters written upon it. Without looking at his teacher he quietly said to himself, “The Queen of Heaven.”
A total eclipse of the sun had almost reached its time of greatest darkness as Jesus hung upon the cross. The crowd below, growing uneasy because of the sudden change from day to night, heard his voice. “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” After an almost interminable silence the voice was heard again. “I thirst.” A Roman soldier dipped a sponge in wine and vinegar and placed it upon a spear that Jesus might drink from it, but the Son of God turned his face away from it.
When the eclipse had become complete, stars appeared in the sky above Jerusalem. At the center of the black disc that obscured the sun there was an almost imperceptible motion. Riders robed in black upon black horses could scarcely be distinguished from the disc. A moment later the Queen of Heaven sat upon her horse before Jesus, surrounded by her chosen warriors. She dismounted and removed her helmet, and the Queen and the King studied each others' faces. Anat motioned to her attendant and he handed her the covered silver chalice that was engraved with a crescent moon. She removed the lid and held the chalice to the King’s lips, and he took a sip of its water. Then she bent down and picked up a crown that lay below his feet. “It seems, my Lord, that once again you dropped this” she said, placing it upon his bloody head. Then she mounted her horse and turned back toward her home, but paused and looked at Jesus one more time. “We shouldn’t forget that now, should we.” The Queen and her spirit warriors immediately rode away and returned to the dark side of the moon.
Minutes passed, but eventually the bright edge of the sun appeared as the black disc moved away. The sunlight revealed the shattered body of a man who was almost dead upon a Roman cross.