The Chronicles of Gan: The Thorn

by Daron Fraley

  The much quieter afternoon relieved some of his anxiety. Even the chirping and activity of birds in the forest caused Jonathan to feel more relaxed. He decided to take the opportunity for a brief nap.

  Although it seemed such a short time that he slept, he awoke late. He sat up suddenly, alarmed that the light outside was already dim with the onset of early evening. He got to his feet and stretched under the rough cave ceiling, touching it. Now twenty-nine years old and over six feet tall, what had seemed like such a grand cavern to him as a youth now just barely allowed him to move about comfortably.

  Jonathan gathered his things and decided to go to the ledge for a look around. Reaching the old oak tree, he surveyed the forest floor below him and listened. Nothing out of the ordinary came to his senses, and yet he still did not feel inclined to leave. He still had the same feeling from earlier that morning. Not wanting to return to the cave, he set his back against the cliff wall and stretched his legs out, his dusty brown boots almost reaching the edge of the rock shelf. The heat of the day was gone, having been replaced with a refreshing, cool evening breeze. Coursing through a darkening sky, the twin suns both descended toward the eastern horizon, the expanse painted like an ocean scene in shades of intense blue. Soon the deep hues would be mixed with the familiar colors of a scarlet and violet sunset. Jonathan felt almost content as he rested there, admiring the beautiful sights of nature. He let his mind wander from thought to thought.

  Not much time passed before Jonathan was startled by noise below. “Another army!” he whispered to himself.

  He again went prone on the ledge to avoid detection, and inched his way to a better place to see the trails winding below him. The army approached, but this time from the north, heading south. Their march was quite slow for some reason. Jonathan studied their movements and soon realized the small group was a prisoner escort. He strained his eyes, scanning for the face of the prisoner between the branches and leaves which obscured a clear view. It was getting darker among the trees and harder for Jonathan to see, but as the eight men got close, he caught a glimpse of a man in bonds—as large as a bear, and wearing a sour expression beneath his flame-red beard.

  Jonathan gasped. Eli!

  Chapter 6

  Rescue

  The band passed Jonathan’s location, wending its way southward down the forest path. Jonathan’s mind raced with numerous options. The instant he committed to leaving, an impression came into his mind—rescue Eli. His whole body surged with adrenaline as he dropped from the cliff ledge onto the dead oak branch below, and climbed down the old tree to the ground.

  The Gideonites marched about two hundred paces ahead of him now, and he darted between the trees, using them as cover so he could approach the group undetected. Jonathan closed the distance to fifty paces and could see they had reached a familiar open glade of the forest. As the group moved into the clearing, he realized his own cover would soon be lost.

  The sky above was starting to turn from its deep blue of the day to the dark color of violet—a stunning backdrop to the few wispy clouds in the east, edged in scarlet and pink. The long shadows in the glade from the eastern tree line pointed to a grassy hill on the western side of the clearing. There, the trail split just before passing the hill, where it continued both south and west to rise over the hill itself.

  Jonathan paused at the edge of the trees, brushed his dark gray cloak to one side, and impulsively whisked an arrow from his quiver. He pulled it back, making the bowstring taut.

  What am I doing? Am I so eager to die?

  Rescue Eli. The voice was quiet, but firm.

  Jonathan obeyed. He stepped to one side of the trail, staying close to a tree for cover, and yelled to the Gideonites.

  “Stop!”

  The band jerked about and faced him. One of the soldiers grabbed the rope looped around Eli’s neck with both hands to keep him from running. Seven dark ravens stared at Jonathan with gleaming eyes from hardened leather breastplates, and swords were drawn in an instant. Two of the men began to reach for arrows to fill their bows, but Jonathan yelled again.

  “Stop! Do not reach for those arrows, or you are dead men! Release the prisoner at once if you wish to live!”

  The soldiers froze as if with indecision, not knowing what to do. Several of the men stared in earnest at one man who appeared to be their captain, awaiting his instructions. The Gideonite put out his hand, signaling the archers to hold, and glared at Jonathan.

  “Who are you?” the soldier sneered.

  Jonathan directed the tip of his arrow at the chest of the tall, strong man and studied him. The armored Gideonite had hardened leather guards strapped to his legs and arms and wore a leather cap edged in red. Jonathan recognized the dark, blood-red wool that confirmed this man served as a captain.

  “It does not matter who I am,” Jonathan replied with a loud voice. “Release the man at once, or you will die! You have caused enough death and destruction, and I will not stand for any more suffering at your hands. I do not wish to shed your blood, but I will do so if you do not comply!”

  The captain laughed. “I can see you are alone,” he ridiculed. “And you seem to be outnumbered. Any one of my men will kill you at my command. I suggest you put down your bow and surrender to me at once!”

  Jonathan pulled the bowstring to his chin, causing the large wooden bow to creak under the tension.

  “Release him or die!” Jonathan warned again. “You have offended both God and man, and I will send you to your eternal judgment if you do not obey!”

  For a moment, the captain paused as if he feared the promise. Then he welled up with anger and commanded, “Kill him!”

  Jonathan’s hands followed his eyes to the archers, who had already nocked arrows onto their bowstrings. Before they could draw, Jonathan let his first arrow fly, striking one of them squarely in the chest with such force that it pierced the hardened breastplate of the soldier, throwing him back into a patch of purple and red wildflowers. With great speed and agility, Jonathan went down on one knee, nocking another arrow in the process, and struck the second archer in the neck, causing the archer’s drawn arrow to misfire wildly upward as he fell into a lifeless heap on the ground.

  Jonathan saw Eli in motion, throwing his jailer to the turf with a shoulder butt, hard enough to make the man gasp for air. Still hampered by his bonds, all Eli could do now was duck while staggering away from the group. Another soldier charged his former prisoner with a drawn sword. Jonathan pulled another arrow and let it loose. The soldier fell with an arrow lodged deep into his exposed side before he had run another five feet.

  Fearing again for Eli’s safety, Jonathan targeted the soldier closest to his escaping friend. The man fell, mortally wounded, near the Gideonite captain’s feet.

  Vile hatred seethed from the captain’s eyes. When a raspy moan caught the captain’s attention and he bent to slit the dying man’s throat, the unexpected cruelty of the scene startled Jonathan, making his anger boil. He stepped forward, nocking another arrow.

  The captain saw Jonathan draw and let out a deranged scream. Jonathan tensed as the man charged, closely followed by the last standing soldier. Fearing he would have to deal with two of them at once, Jonathan took down the second soldier with two successive arrows. The Gideonite captain almost upon him, Johathan dropped the bow to the ground.

  Jonathan stood, unsheathed his crystal sword in one motion, and blocked the captain’s striking blow. The Gideonite’s sword sparked, and a chunk of the steel blade ricocheted to the ground. The captain reeled to the left. He began another swing directed at Jonathan’s exposed head, but Jonathan ducked and rolled, and then with tremendous strength, he thrust his crystal blade with full force up at the captain’s midsection, just under the breastplate. Jonathan withdrew the sword and jumped back, planting his stance with his weapon ready.

  The Gideonite captain went pale, gaping in amazement as the bloodstained lining of his armor went from dark, reddish-brown to a bright, w
et scarlet. He gasped for air and then tumbled face-first to the ground.

  By this time, the last remaining Gideonite had recovered his breath, and he ran toward Jonathan with a waving sword. Jonathan met him with a swift blow, striking the soldier’s blade. The steel snapped in half with a sound like a hammer on an anvil. The soldier recoiled, fear in his eyes. Jonathan followed his gaze and saw that he stared at the crystal blade flashing blue and red in the late evening light. The soldier dropped his broken weapon to the ground and retreated a few more steps.

  Not wanting to let the opportunity go, Jonathan lunged forward and placed the faceted tip of his sword directly on the eye of the raven painted on the man’s polished breastplate.

  “Why did you not listen to me?” Jonathan asked, full of anger.

  The soldier quaked in terror. As if his tongue had been bound, he did not speak a single word. His eyes were wide, and he kept glancing down at the strange, clear blade poking his chest.

  Jonathan tried to catch his breath. He noticed that a still-fettered Eli approached the soldier from behind. The broad grin on Eli’s face widened into an unmistakable sign of joy, his white teeth framed by a red beard. Eli hobbled forward in restraining shackles which prevented him from taking more than half-strides. Jonathan thought Eli looked like a big bear tangled in vines, lumbering through the grass in the dimming light of the evening. The sight of Eli’s struggle stole all the anger Jonathan had left. Even though his chest still heaved from exertion, Jonathan smiled widely.

  He turned back again to scrutinize the eyes of the Gideonite soldier, and saw deep within them a man not yet hardened by war.

  “What’s your name?” Jonathan asked in a much softer tone than before.

  “Pekah,” came the halting reply.

  Jonathan studied the face of the soldier to get a sense of his character. Pekah’s face was young and fair, clean-shaven in the fashion of the Gideonite soldiers, with a short and unobtrusive nose, rounded chin, and dark brown eyes. His wavy black hair intensified the fairness of his complexion. Jonathan guessed Pekah could not have been much more than twenty-two years old.

  In contrast with the fallen captain, Pekah did not seem to have the lust for murder and destruction in his countenance. His bright eyes weren’t dimmed, like those who had seen too much death. They did, however, show evidence of fear. Jonathan felt sorry for him.

  Still holding his sword at the Gideonite’s chest, Jonathan briefly turned to check for other soldiers. When he looked back, he saw something else in Pekah’s face, but couldn’t make it out. Perhaps surprise? Jonathan thought.

  “Pekah, I am—”

  “Nate,” interrupted the deep voice of his friend, who had now joined them. “His name is Nate.”

  Jonathan grinned at the use of Eli’s nickname for him. “Yes, I’m Nate,” Jonathan said as he lowered his sword to his side.

  Pekah relaxed with the blade tip now off his chest.

  “Although you and your fallen friends attempted to kill me, I don’t wish to shed your blood,” Jonathan said. “I won’t permit you, however, to continue your war against my people. If you covenant with me that you will lay down your weapons of war and return to your home in peace, I will spare your life.”

  Pekah did not answer. Jonathan sensed a renewed fear in the soldier.

  “Again, I swear to you, as I am granted breath by our God and Creator, that I will spare your life and release you, if you will but heed my request and give me your promise upon your very honor.”

  Jonathan stepped back a few paces to give Pekah some room, and took opportunity to check him over. He saw that Pekah was strong and fit, slightly shorter than himself and Eli. The Gideonite’s rough hands betrayed the life of one accustomed to the hard work of a laborer, and seemed out of place when contrasted with the almost-new uniform he wore. Dressed in the typical manner of Gideonite soldiers, he wore a tightly-woven green wool tunic under his breastplate, which reached to just above the knees, held to his waist by a wide leather belt. His pants were black, and his brown boots wore the evidence of many long marches in recent days. In particular, Jonathan noticed that the paint on Pekah’s hardened leather breastplate shone in the evening light, an indication he had not been serving in the army of the Gideonite emperor for very long.

  As Jonathan surveyed the soldier’s appearance, Pekah gaped at the sword in Jonathan’s hand as if surprised not to have been struck down by it. Jonathan looked again at Eli, and felt annoyed when Pekah cleared his throat to get his full attention.

  “I seem to have a problem.”

  Jonathan’s eyebrows lifted as he scrutinized the young Gideonite. “What kind of problem?”

  Pekah swallowed hard. “If I consent, and give the oath which you have requested, my life will be in danger of forfeit. Desertion from the emperor’s army is punishable by death. From what I have heard, death for deserters is not a pleasant experience. The emperor is fond of torture to induce submission among the people.”

  “I see.”

  “And,” Pekah continued, “returning home will take me nowhere. My mother passed away a few years ago. I never knew my father. I only have one other choice.”

  Jonathan waited. Pekah’s dramatic pause irritated him.

  “My only choice is to follow you.”

  Jonathan frowned, and he felt his brow furrow. He stepped closer to the Gideonite and glared at him. “What will you do for me?” he asked in a firm voice.

  Pekah did not hesitate. “I will serve you. Yes, Nate—I will serve you until you release me, and even unto the end of my life, if you desire. Will you take me as your servant?” He stood unflinching and motionless.

  Jonathan did not relish the thought of having a servant join him in battle, and yet something intrigued him about the idea of keeping Pekah close. This young man may be of use, he thought. “Swear it. Swear it by your honor.”

  “I swear it by my life and my honor.”

  Now satisfied, Jonathan switched his weapon to his left, then stepped forward, offering the palm of his free hand in acceptance, which Pekah instantly covered with his own right hand. Jonathan held Pekah’s gaze momentarily, then both men withdrew. An oath of honor such as this would be broken only by death, even by a Gideonite. Jonathan relaxed with a deep breath.

  Seeing that his own sword was still in hand, Jonathan drove it deep into the soft grassy turf, all the way to the hilt, to clean it. He pulled it from the ground and flashed the perfect, sharp edges above him. Through the blade, he could see the eastern sunset sky where the small dots of Azure and Aqua rested on the horizon. He sheathed the sword, feigned a glare at Eli, then grinned.

  “It’s good to see you. But you can’t seem to stay out of trouble, can you?”

  Eli returned the grin. “It’s my lot in life. Yours is to get me out of the trouble I’m in.”

  Jonathan nodded and laughed. Eli frequently seemed to be into some kind of mischief when they were together as young boys. Jonathan had often shouldered the blame for some of the pranks so Eli would not be the one always in trouble.

  “I’m sorry,” Pekah said.

  Jonathan studied the Gideonite. Pekah appeared as if he wanted to say something more, but instead blew out a sigh. Jonathan followed the soldier’s eyes down to Eli’s shackles.

  “Let me get the keys,” Pekah suggested as he ran to the fallen captain’s body. Jonathan remained alert, and was relieved to see that Pekah only retrieved keys from a pouch on the belt of the captain. When Pekah returned, he knelt before Eli, unlocked the fetters, and untied the ropes.

  Now free from his bonds, Eli stepped to the side and gently kicked Pekah to make him lose his balance and fall. Jonathan snickered.

  “That’s for yanking on the rope around my neck!” Eli said with a forced growl as he pulled the loop over his head, dropping it to the ground.

  At first, Pekah appeared worried about retaliation from Eli, but when he saw the boyish grin on Eli’s face, he stood and returned a sheepish smile.

&nb
sp; “We should find some shelter for the night,” Jonathan said in a serious tone, trying not to laugh.

  “What about the—?”

  Jonathan cut him off with a wave of his hand, pretending to cough. He didn’t want Pekah to know of the cave. “I think we should make our way a mile to the west. The trees there are very dense. Perhaps we can find a good spot off the main trail where we won’t be noticed.”

  Eli agreed, and Pekah shrugged his shoulders.

  Jonathan started to speak, but hesitated. Do I trust him? Yes. I must show him that I do.

  “Pekah, get yourself a new weapon. We also need to hide the bodies before we leave, or we will surely be followed.”

  Before they worked together to drag the bodies into the trees, Jonathan helped Eli retrieve his weapons, which had been bundled and tied to a large shoulder sack belonging to one of the archers. They found that Eli’s sword, belt dagger, and boot knife were all together.

  Eli strapped them on, stretched his aching and cramped muscles, then rubbed the marks left by his bonds.

  “Is that all of it?” Jonathan asked.

  “All but my walking staff. Unfortunately the soldiers left it behind when I was captured,” Eli said as he brushed the dust from his coarsely-woven white tunic. “I’ll get a new stick tomorrow. Plenty of trees around.”

  Jonathan led the way, and the three of them started the unpleasant task of disposing of the dead Gideonites. As they placed the bodies together, Eli suggested they reclaim any usable items from the soldiers, such as provisions and weapons, rather than leave the supplies for marching Gideonite troops to find. Jonathan consented. He helped Eli cut branches to cover the men while he watched Pekah gather supplies in eager haste. Jonathan could see that Pekah felt no grief for the dead soldiers, especially the captain. He watched with interest as Pekah removed a dagger from the captain’s leather belt, took a sword from one of the archers, and then strapped both weapons to his waist.