by Paulo Coelho
The commander said nothing and allowed the foreigner to leave. Even with Elijah dead, the governor could still insist on the idea. He swore to himself that if the situation came to that point he would kill the governor, then commit suicide, because he had no desire to witness the fury of the gods.
Nevertheless, under no circumstance would he let his people be betrayed by money.
“TAKE ME BACK to the land of Israel, O Lord,” cried Elijah every afternoon, as he walked through the valley. “Let not my heart continue imprisoned in Akbar.”
Following a custom of the prophets he had known as a child, he began lashing himself with a whip whenever he thought of the widow. His back became raw flesh, and for two days he lay delirious with fever. When he awoke, the first thing he saw was the woman’s face; she had tended to his wounds with ointment and olive oil. As he was too weak to descend the stairs, she brought food to his room.
AS SOON AS HE WAS WELL, Elijah resumed walking through the valley.
“Take me back to the land of Israel, O Lord,” he said. “My heart is trapped in Akbar, but my body can still continue the journey.”
The angel appeared. It was not the angel of the Lord, whom he had seen on the mountain, but the one who watched over him, and to whose voice he was accustomed.
“The Lord heareth the prayers of those who ask to put aside hatred. But He is deaf to those who would flee from love.”
THE THREE OF THEM supped together every night. As the Lord had promised, meal had never been wanting in the barrel nor oil in the vessel.
They rarely spoke as they ate. One night, however, the boy asked, “What is a prophet?”
“Someone who goes on listening to the same voices he heard as a child. And still believes in them. In this way, he can know the angels’ thoughts.”
“Yes, I know what you are speaking of,” said the boy. “I have friends no one else can see.”
“Never forget them, even if adults call it foolishness. That way you will always know God’s will.”
“I’ll see into the future, like the soothsayers of Babylon,” said the boy.
“Prophets don’t know the future. They only transmit the words that the Lord inspires in them at the present moment. That is why I am here, not knowing when I shall return to my own country; He will not tell me before it is necessary.”
The woman’s eyes became sad. Yes, one day he would depart.
ELIJAH NO LONGER cried out to the Lord. He had decided that, when the moment arrived to leave Akbar, he would take the widow and her son. But he would say nothing until the time came.
Perhaps she would not want to leave. Perhaps she had not even divined his feelings for her, for he himself had been a long time in understanding them. If it should happen thus, it would be better; he could then dedicate himself wholly to the expulsion of Jezebel and the rebuilding of Israel. His mind would be too occupied to think about love.
“The Lord is my shepherd,” he said, recalling an ancient prayer of King David. “He restoreth my soul. He leadeth me beside still waters.
“And He will not let me forget the meaning of my life,” he concluded in his own words.
ONE AFTERNOON he returned home earlier than was his wont, to find the widow sitting in the doorway of the house.
“What are you doing?”
“I have nothing to do,” she replied.
“Then learn something. At this moment, many people have stopped living. They do not become angry, nor cry out; they merely wait for time to pass. They did not accept the challenges of life, so life no longer challenges them. You are running that same risk; react, face life, but do not stop living.”
“My life has begun to have meaning again,” she said, casting her gaze downward. “Ever since you came here.”
FOR A FRACTION of a second, he felt he could open his heart to her. But he decided not to take the risk; she must surely be referring to something else.
“Start doing something,” he said, changing the subject. “In that way, time will be an ally, not an enemy.”
“But what can I learn?”
Elijah thought for a moment.
“The writing of Byblos. It will be useful if one day you have to travel.”
The woman decided to dedicate herself body and spirit to that study. She had never thought of leaving Akbar, but from the way he spoke perhaps he was thinking of taking her with him.
Once more, she felt free. Once more, she awoke at morning and strode smiling through the streets of the city.
“ELIJAH STILL LIVES,” THE COMMANDER TOLD THE HIGH priest two months later. “You have not succeeded in having him killed.”
“In all of Akbar there is no man who will carry out that mission. The Israelite has comforted the sick, visited the imprisoned, fed the hungry. When anyone has a dispute to settle with his neighbor, he calls on him, and all accept his judgments, because they are just. The governor is using him to increase his own standing among the people, but no one sees this.”
“The merchants have no wish for war. If the governor finds favor enough with the people to convince them that peace is better, we shall never be able to expel the Assyrians. Elijah must be killed immediately.”
The high priest pointed to the Fifth Mountain, its peak cloud-covered as always.
“The gods will not allow their country to be humiliated by a foreign power. They will take action; something will come to pass, and we shall be able to grasp the opportunity.”
“What kind of opportunity?”
“I do not know. But I shall remain vigilant for the signs. Do not provide any further truthful information about the Assyrian forces. When you are asked, say only that the proportion of the invading warriors is still four to one. And go on training your troops.”
“Why should I do that? If they attain the proportion of five to one, we are lost.”
“No. We shall be in a state of equality. When the battle begins, you will not be fighting an inferior enemy and therefore cannot be branded a coward who abuses the weak. Akbar’s army will confront an adversary as powerful as itself, and it will win the battle—because its commander chose the right strategy.”
Piqued by vanity, the commander accepted the proposal. And from that moment, he began to withhold information from the governor and from Elijah.
TWO MORE MONTHS PASSED, AND ONE MORNING THE Assyrian army reached the proportion of five soldiers for each of Akbar’s defenders. They could attack at any moment.
For some time Elijah had suspected that the commander was lying about the enemy forces, but this might yet turn to his advantage: when the proportion reached the critical point, it would be a simple matter to convince the populace that peace was the only solution.
These were his thoughts as he headed toward the place in the square where, once a week, he was wont to help the inhabitants of the city to settle their disputes. In general, the issues were trivial: quarrels between neighbors, old people reluctant to pay their taxes, tradesmen who felt they had been cheated in their business dealings.
The governor was there; it was his custom to appear now and again to see Elijah in action. The ill will the prophet had felt toward him had disappeared completely; he had discovered that he was a man of wisdom, concerned with solving problems before they arose—although he was not a spiritual man and greatly feared death. On several occasions he had conferred upon Elijah’s decisions the force of law. At other times Elijah, having disagreed with a decision, had with the passage of time come to see that the governor was right.
Akbar was becoming a model of the modern Phoenician city. The governor had created a fairer system of taxation, had improved the streets of the city, and administered intelligently the profits from the imposts on merchandise. There was a time when Elijah had asked him to do away with the consumption of wine and beer, for most of the cases he was called upon to settle involved aggression by intoxicated persons. The governor had told him that a city could only be considered great if that type of thing took place. Accord
ing to tradition, the gods were pleased when men enjoyed themselves after a day’s work, and they protected drunkards.
In addition, the region enjoyed the reputation of producing one of the finest wines in the world, and foreigners would be suspicious if the inhabitants themselves did not consume the drink. Elijah respected the governor’s decision, and he came to agree that happy people produce more.
“You need not put forth so much effort,” the governor told him before Elijah began his day’s work. “A counselor helps the government with nothing more than his opinions.”
“I miss my country and want to return. So long as I am involved in activity, I feel myself of use and forget that I am a foreigner,” he replied.
“And better control my love for her,” he thought to himself.
THE POPULAR TRIBUNAL had come to attract an audience ever alert to what took place. The people were beginning to gather: some were the aged, no longer able to work in the fields, who came to applaud or jeer Elijah’s decisions; others were directly involved in the matters to be discussed, either because they had been the victims or because they expected to profit from the outcome. There were also women and children who, lacking work, needed to fill their free time.
He began the morning’s proceedings: the first case was that of a shepherd who had dreamed of a treasure buried near the pyramids of Egypt and needed money to journey there. Elijah had never been in Egypt, but he knew it was far away, and he said that he would be hard pressed to find the necessary means, but if the shepherd were to sell his sheep to pay for his dream, he would surely find what he sought.
Next came a woman who desired to learn the magical arts of Israel. Elijah said he was no teacher, merely a prophet.
As he was preparing to find an amicable solution to a case in which a farmer had cursed another man’s wife, a soldier pushed his way through the crowd and addressed the governor.
“A patrol has captured a spy,” the newcomer said, sweating profusely. “He’s being brought here!”
A tremor ran through the crowd; it would be the first time they had witnessed a judgment of that kind.
“Death!” someone shouted. “Death to the enemy!”
Everyone present agreed, screaming. In the blink of an eye the news spread throughout the city, and the square was packed with people. The other cases were judged only with great difficulty, for at every instant someone would interrupt Elijah, asking that the foreigner be brought forth at once.
“I cannot judge such a case,” he said. “It is a matter for the authorities of Akbar.”
“For what reason have the Assyrians come here?” said one man. “Can they not see we have been at peace for many generations?”
“Why do they want our water?” shouted another. “Why are they threatening our city?”
For months none had dared speak in public about the presence of the enemy. Though all could see an ever-growing number of tents being erected on the horizon, though the merchants spoke of the need to begin negotiations for peace at once, the people of Akbar refused to believe that they were living under threat of invasion. Save for the quickly subdued incursion of some insignificant tribe, war existed only in the memory of priests. They spoke of a nation called Egypt, with horses and chariots of war and gods that looked like animals. But that had all happened long ago; Egypt was no longer a country of import, and the warriors, with their dark skin and strange language, had returned to their own land. Now the inhabitants of Sidon and Tyre dominated the seas and were spreading a new empire around the world, and though they were tried warriors, they had discovered a new way of fighting: trade.
“Why are they restless?” the governor asked Elijah.
“Because they sense that something has changed. We both know that, from this moment on, the Assyrians can attack at any time. Both you and I know that the commander has been lying about the number of the enemy’s troops.”
“But he wouldn’t be mad enough to say that to anyone. He would be sowing panic.”
“Every man can sense when he is in danger; he begins to react in strange ways, to have premonitions, to feel something in the air. And he tries to deceive himself, for he thinks himself incapable of confronting the situation. They have tried to deceive themselves till now; but there comes a moment when one must face the truth.”
The high priest arrived.
“Let us go to the palace and convene the Council of Akbar. The commander is on his way.”
“Do not do so,” Elijah told the governor in a low voice. “They will force on you what you have no wish to do.”
“We must go,” insisted the high priest. “A spy has been captured, and urgent measures must be taken.”
“Make the judgment in the midst of the people,” murmured Elijah. “They will help you, for their desire is for peace, even as they ask for war.”
“Bring the man here!” ordered the governor. The crowd shouted joyously; for the first time, they would witness a conclave of the Council.
“We cannot do that!” said the high priest. “It is a matter of great delicacy, one that requires calm in order to be resolved!”
A few jeers. Many protests.
“Bring him here,” repeated the governor. “His judgment shall be in this square, amid the people. Together we have worked to transform Akbar into a prosperous city, and together we shall pass judgment on all that threatens us.”
The decision was met with clapping of hands. A group of soldiers appeared dragging a blood-covered, half-naked man. He must have been severely beaten before being brought there.
All noise ceased. A heavy silence fell over the crowd; from another corner of the square could be heard the sound of pigs and children playing.
“Why have you done this to the prisoner?” shouted the governor.
“He resisted,” answered one of the guards. “He claimed he wasn’t a spy and said he had come here to talk to you.”
The governor ordered that three chairs be brought from his palace. His servants appeared, bearing the cloak of justice, which he always donned when a meeting of the Council of Akbar was convened.
THE GOVERNOR and the high priest sat down. The third chair was reserved for the commander, who was yet to arrive.
“I solemnly declare in session the tribunal of the Council of Akbar. Let the elders draw near.”
A group of old men approached, forming a semicircle around the chairs. This was the council of elders; in bygone times, their opinions were respected and obeyed. Today, however, the role of the group was merely ceremonial; they were present to accept whatever the ruler decided.
After a few formalities such as a prayer to the gods of the Fifth Mountain and the declaiming of the names of several ancient heroes, the governor addressed the prisoner.
“What is it you want?” he asked.
The man did not reply. He stared at him in a strange way, as if he were an equal.
“What is it you want?” the governor repeated.
The high priest touched his arm.
“We need an interpreter. He does not speak our language.”
The order was given, and one of the guards left in search of a merchant who could serve as interpreter. Tradesmen never came to the sessions that Elijah held; they were constantly occupied with conducting their business and counting their profits.
While they waited, the high priest whispered, “They beat the prisoner because they are frightened. Allow me to carry out this judgment, and say nothing: panic makes everyone aggressive, and we must show authority, lest we lose control of the situation.”
The governor did not answer. He too was frightened. He sought out Elijah with his eyes, but from where he sat could not see him.
A merchant arrived, forcibly brought by the guard. He complained that the tribunal was wasting his time and that he had many matters to resolve. But the high priest, looking sternly at him, bade him to be silent and to interpret the conversation.
“What do you want here?” the governor asked.
“I am no spy,” the man replied. “I am a general of the army. I have come to speak with you.”
The audience, completely silent till then, began to scream as soon as these words were translated. They called it a lie and demanded the immediate punishment of death.
The high priest asked for silence, then turned to the prisoner.
“About what do you wish to speak?”
“The governor has the reputation of being a wise man,” said the Assyrian. “We have no desire to destroy this city: what interests us is Sidon and Tyre. But Akbar lies athwart the route, controlling this valley; if we are forced to fight, we shall lose time and men. I come to propose a treaty.”
“The man speaks the truth,” thought Elijah. He had noticed that he was surrounded by a group of soldiers who hid from view the spot where the governor was sitting. “He thinks as we do. The Lord has performed a miracle and will bring an end to this dangerous situation.”
The high priest rose and shouted to the people, “Do you see? They want to destroy us without combat!”
“Go on,” the governor told the prisoner.
The high priest, however, again intervened.
“Our governor is a good man who does not wish to shed a man’s blood. But we are in a situation of war, and the prisoner before us is an enemy!”
“He’s right!” shouted someone from the crowd.
Elijah realized his mistake. The high priest was playing on the crowd while the governor was merely trying to be just. He attempted to move closer, but he was shoved back. One of the soldiers held him by the arm.
“Stay here. After all, this was your idea.”
He looked behind: it was the commander, and he was smiling.