The Chronicles of Gan: The Thorn

by Daron Fraley

  Jonathan cut a final branch, then motioned to Eli. They turned to assist Pekah in his search and found quite a few other useful things. Their pile of treasures included a few glow-stones, two glow-stone lanterns, a flint for fire making, two quivers of very fine arrows, two bows, and enough provisions to last for three days.

  In addition to the supplies, Pekah also found a small bag of gold and silver coins on the captain’s belt. Each coin bore the image of Manasseh, Emperor of the Gideonites, on one side, and an image of the twin suns on the other. Jonathan estimated that there were about forty Gideonite solars total. Pekah returned them to the leather bag and presented it to Jonathan, respectfully asking him to take them.

  Jonathan declined. “Pekah, keep them for us. Should we not need the money in Ain, the coins are yours.”

  Pekah shrugged and tied the bag around his belt. They returned to their task of hiding the bodies of the fallen soldiers, using the cut limbs and some large pieces of bark from downed rotting timber. As they finished, they noticed the darkness fast approaching.

  “There may be other patrolling soldiers about,” Eli said.

  “True,” Jonathan agreed. “We should move on.”

  The three men crossed the grassy glade and chose the western fork of the dividing path. Eli suggested they travel single file on the side of the trail once they entered the trees. This minimized the traces of their passing, even though occasional underbrush and branches slowed their progress. As they hiked through the forest, the waning light of dusk was replaced by light from the two smaller rising moons. The heavens peeked in upon them between the treetops, showing a beautiful spray of stars. As was common at this time of year, a dim green aurora danced over the southern sky, and Eli hummed a simple child’s lullaby about the lights in the heavens.

  Jonathan’s troubled heart warmed upon hearing the deep, soothing melody. “Thank you, Eli,” he said.

  “You’re welcome. Music lifts the spirit, does it not?”

  “It certainly does help.”

  Pekah did not comment.

  Eli continued to hum, and Jonathan was glad for it. Curious about the Gideonite who had joined him, he peered over at Pekah. He could just make out the soldier’s face in the dim light provided by holes in the leafy canopy above. Whether aware of Jonathan’s curiosity or not, Pekah’s gaze did not leave the ground. He seemed tired and distant, so Jonathan did not attempt to engage him in conversation.

  Now larger and much closer together, the trees bordering the shadowed path completely obstructed the lights of the moons and made it difficult for them to see where to step. Eli and Pekah rubbed two glow-stones to charge them, and then placed each crystal in a reflective lantern, the light of which allowed them to quicken their pace.

  The men hadn’t eaten in some time, so the search for a place to rest for the night intensified. Their careful observation was rewarded as they turned from the path to follow the faint sound of trickling water.

  About one hundred paces from the trail near a wide bend in a rocky stream, they found a thick growth of thorny, gnarled brush and vines overrunning a tight group of trees. The trees and bushes together made a natural barrier shaped like a cup turned on its side, the hollow facing the water. Because of location and a gentle southerly breeze, this made a perfect place to stay the night. Travelers on the forest path would probably not notice them as long as they were quiet, even with a campfire.

  After unburdening themselves of all the supplies they carried, each of them helped to gather wood, piling it within a fire-circle of large rocks. Jonathan used flint to spark some tinder, and soon the fire burned bright and warm. They arranged logs for seating, then took the opportunity to wash at the stream’s edge before returning to camp to eat.

  “I still have some dried meat, fruit, and half a cheese in my sack,” Jonathan offered. Eli growled like a hungry animal, rubbing his stomach for emphasis. Pekah grabbed his own provisions sack and produced a large round of leavened bread, some strips of salted meat, and a wineskin. Jonathan decided to save his own provisions, especially the fruit, for breakfast. Pekah grabbed his round of bread and started to break it into large pieces, but Jonathan held out his hand to stop him.

  “Do you mind if we pray before we eat?” he asked.

  Pekah appeared puzzled at first, but then shrugged his shoulders. “That would be fine.”

  Both Eli and Jonathan knelt on the ground and bowed their heads. Jonathan glanced at Pekah, who mimicked them like an awkward youth.

  “Our Father, our God, we come to Thee in humility and with broken hearts . . .” Jonathan paused as his voice began to quaver. He composed himself and continued. “We thank Thee for all which Thou dost provide; for life, for bread, for strength and wisdom and love. We thank Thee for the Son whom Thou wilt send. May Thy blessings be upon us, and upon our peoples. We thank Thee for the protection we have been granted this day. May the souls of those who have gone home to Thee find rest, forgiveness, and healing. Let peace reign, and the hearts of all men be softened by truth and love. Bless us to this end and prepare us for Thy will to be done. Amen and amen.”

  Jonathan opened his eyes and found Pekah staring at him.

  “You seem troubled. Did I say something that bothered you?”

  Pekah shook his head. “No.” His gaze fell, and he gave no other explanation.

  Jonathan did not press the issue. He took an offered piece of dried meat from Eli. Pekah still held the bread motionless in his hands, and Eli had to get his attention in order to ask him to share. Pekah apologized.

  All three men fell quiet, lost in thought. Jonathan reflected on his father’s passing. He felt guilty for leaving Samuel’s body in the Council Hall, and wondered if he should have gone back. Surely the Gideonite army did not leave him there, Jonathan reassured himself. He imagined them taking the body to a hill outside the village walls. He pictured the familiar green hills and almost smelled the fresh dirt as shovels turned over the sod. Jonathan’s guilt turned to sorrow as he realized he would never till the soil at Samuel’s side again.

  Fighting back tears, his attention turned to Eli, who chewed his last bite of jerky loudly enough to be heard. Eli gazed at him expectantly, as if he wanted to talk.

  “Pekah?” Jonathan asked. “Do you mind if Eli and I excuse ourselves for a moment?”

  Pekah shook his head and said, “No.”

  Jonathan gave him a reassuring smile. “Thank you. We’ll be back.”

  Jonathan and Eli grabbed their sword belts and left the fire. They found a suitable place to sit outside of earshot, but still within sight of the fire-lit camp. The site they chose was well-lit by the beaming three sister moons.

  Before Jonathan could sit on the log they found, Eli grabbed Jonathan to himself and embraced him. They patted each other’s backs firmly, and then clasped forearms. Tears of joy and sorrow welled in their eyes and dropped onto their arms.

  Eli released his friend, and both men used their sleeves to dry their eyes. Then they sat down together under the moons-light to talk.

  Chapter 7

  Promises

  Jonathan broke the silence. “My father was slain.”

  Eli exhaled. “I know. I saw him.”

  “You were there? Tell me what you saw!”

  Eli’s face filled with sorrow. Light from the moons above glistened upon his wet cheeks as tears tumbled from his green eyes and into his scruffy red beard. Jonathan’s own eyes blurred as Eli rubbed his eyes dry.

  “I am so sorry, Jonathan,” Eli said with emotion. “This morning, after a speedy march with a group of eight other Uzzahite warriors, Tavor and I arrived at Hasor just as the suns were rising. I had hoped to assist you in your defense. However, my fears of arriving too late were confirmed as we approached the village walls. We came down from the north road, and when the east gate came into view, we found the heavy doors destroyed. The entire village had been deserted.”

  “I think they were all taken prisoner,” Jonathan interjected as he
wiped his cheeks with the backs of his hands.

  “I think you’re right,” Eli confirmed. “We had seen a very large contingent of soldiers escorting a group of at least two hundred men, women, and children due west toward Saron the previous evening. We believe they were going to use the Geber Pass to get to Ain. Our scouts confirmed that Ain was taken just four days ago.”

  Eli paused and crossed his arms as if to allow Jonathan time to absorb the new information.

  “Father and I suspected Ain had already been captured, but we did not know for sure.” Jonathan let out a deep sigh, then pursed his lips. Confusion replaced his anger. “If you found the village deserted, how did you get mixed up with the Gideonite soldiers?”

  “I sent most of my men to check the garden gate while I took Tavor with me to check out the temple, palace, and hall. The temple seemed to be undisturbed. Obviously the Gideonites were not after gold candlesticks that day.”

  Jonathan managed a thin smile at this somewhat positive news.

  “When I got to the hall, I found your father in the Council Room.” Eli placed his hand on Jonathan’s shoulder. “I sent Tavor to call the other men, and then the ten of us carried him out the broken gates into the olive garden. We found some shovels in the gardener’s hut. Jonathan, we laid him under your favorite olive tree.”

  Tears were visible in Eli’s eyes again, and Jonathan’s own sorrow pulled his head low. He felt the strong squeeze of Eli’s hand on his arm. He looked up, again wiping his face with his hands. “Thank you, Eli. You did my father a great service.”

  “I loved him too, Jonathan.”

  Eli paused, but then explained that after their very emotional ceremony for Samuel, they split up to cover the entire village to be sure there were no survivors within the walls.

  “When we met back at the hall, we thought it peculiar that we did not find any other bodies in the entire village. There were evidences everywhere of intense fighting when the village was overrun, but we did not find a single soul, living or dead. We decided to patrol the outside wall, and did so, starting at the garden gate. We circled the southern wall heading west.”

  Eli cleared his throat. “We were surprised to find a fresh mass grave to the west of the village, still being filled by a group of Danielites and their captors. Not far off, a group of about forty Gideonites were camped in the hollow there by the vineyards. About ten of them rushed up to us as soon as we were seen, and knowing we were outnumbered, we surrendered. We were harshly questioned, and when they figured out that I was the leader of my band of warriors, they separated us. My nine were added to the main group of remaining Danielites and marched down the road towards Saron. I had the pleasure of traveling the forest trails toward Ain in company of the rogues you caught me with earlier this evening. The captain told Pekah and the others it would be a faster route.” Eli grinned and spat on the ground in defiance. “Once again, you have gotten me out of a bad one,” he said with a laugh.

  Jonathan didn’t laugh, but he did return the smile. “It’s so good to see you, Eli. Thank you again for giving my father a dignified burial. It was I who left him on the floor of the Council Hall. I hated to do it, but I was in a hurry to escape.”

  With hand gestures for emphasis, Jonathan proceeded to tell Eli about hiding in the barn, hearing the commotion in the village, and returning to the hall where he found his father. He also mentioned the noise which had startled him, and his retrieval of The Thorn. Jonathan patted his chest.

  “Eli, I got it, and then literally ran out the door.”

  “I’m glad you did,” Eli said as he glanced back toward the camp. Jonathan also leaned to see the dim outline of Pekah sitting by the fire.

  Jonathan ended his account by describing the long day in their secret cave. The two of them laughed a little as they reminisced together about the many items they had hidden there long ago as boys. But again their moods became somber, and they both grew quiet as their gazes rested on the moons-lit ground.

  Eli lifted his head and pointed at the campfire. “What are we going to do with him?”

  “I don’t know. He seems to have a good heart. If we can convince him to join the side of peace, he may be able to soften the hearts of others. What do you think?”

  “You may be right. Although we all expected this war, I would very much prefer that it end quickly, and he may be able to help.”

  Jonathan tapped his sword pommel with his hand, anxious to do whatever was necessary to stop Gideon. Numerous possible outcomes crossed his mind in mere seconds, but then he threw a startled expression in Eli’s direction.

  “What has become of your sister?” Jonathan asked. “Last I knew, Rachel had been in Saron. Did she make it home safely?”

  Eli’s jaw stiffened with anger. He shook his head, and Jonathan instantly felt ill.

  “But I don’t know for sure,” Eli added, his tone grave. “To my knowledge, Rachel was still at market with the family steward, selling our spring lambs, when Saron was surprised by the Gideonites. If she left early enough, she might have made it home to Ramathaim before they attacked. I just fear she did not. When we left the city, we did not see anyone coming north from Hasor. She should have been back by that time.”

  Jonathan saw deep emotion like a kindled fire burning in Eli’s eyes. “If she did not make it out of Saron, where do you think she is?”

  “She may be at Ain. Our scouts confirmed there was a significant movement of people from Saron towards Ain the day before yesterday. They reported to have seen several columns of prisoner escorts. But then again, she may have been . . . the Gideonites . . .” Eli shuddered.

  At Eli’s unspoken suggestion, Jonathan remembered the dishonorable things some Gideonite captains had done with female prisoners in the past. He could not bring himself even to complete the thought. Jonathan fought the images away and mustered his courage.

  “Eli, don’t fear the worst. Let us have faith she has been protected.”

  Eli grumbled. “I suppose you’re right. But you know as well as I do, the Gideonites do not always treat women with honor or respect. Some of them have forgotten the ways taught by Father Noah and treat women as if they were mere property.”

  Jonathan bristled at the thought. His father Samuel had taught him to honor women as God’s finest creation, and that attitude prevailed amongst his own people. Jonathan loved Rachel dearly, and the thought of Gideonite soldiers harming her made his blood boil. Rachel had been promised to him, and even though she was not yet his lawful wife, Jonathan felt protective of her.

  “Well,” Jonathan spat out, “at least we’re traveling in the right direction. I think we can easily reach Ain within two days. It’s my intention to find out what’s going on in that fair city.”

  Eli patted Jonathan on the arm. “I feel the same way, my brother. If she’s there, we will find her.”

  The two friends made their way back to the campfire and found Pekah sharpening the dagger he had taken from the Gideonite captain. He glanced up as they approached, but then returned to his work. As Jonathan and Eli removed their weapons and found themselves seats near the fire, Pekah stopped his sharpening and sheathed the dagger.

  “Nate, can you tell me about the sword you carry? I have never seen anything like it.”

  It seemed to be a harmless question. Jonathan took up the sword that lay next to him on the ground, pulled it from the sheath, and turned it in his hands, causing reflections from the campfire to bounce above them in the trees. Pekah gaped in wonder at the lights and leaned forward to see the narrow, thin, faceted blade.

  “It is merely a glow-stone, albeit a special one,” Jonathan said. “This nearly perfect crystal was found by my grandfather in the mines near Hasor, crafted into a sword, and presented as a gift to my father.”

  Jonathan stopped short of telling the whole story. To do so would reveal his identity. The Sword of Daniel had actually been given to his father as a coronation gift on the same day Samuel married. He chose to keep those
facts to himself.

  “How was it made?” Pekah said.

  “The crystal is the longest one ever found in the Hasor mines. I don’t think there has ever been another like it. My father told me the raw stone was without flaw except at the ends. The swordsmith who made the weapon could only cut or groove it near the blemishes in the stone, and so he removed one flaw by striking it from the end of the crystal, thus producing the faceted tip. He grooved out the flaw at the opposite end with special tools made from other stones. After he added the brass cross-guard, he used some type of silver alloy to form the hilt and pommel, all of which he anchored to the grooved area of the crystal. I added the leather strapping around the hilt to make the sword easier to control.

  “The sword-smith also left the pommel hollow to accommodate a small glow-stone for lighting purposes,” Jonathan added as he took the stone from his belt pouch and rubbed it vigorously to charge it. He snapped it into place, and they all watched as the entire sword took on a soft, blue glow.

  Pekah’s brow furrowed. “How is it that the blade does not break? Any crystal, when struck with the amount of force which you used today against our swords, should shatter, no matter how perfect it is.”

  Jonathan smiled. He leaned forward, locking gazes with Pekah, and stated with a wry smile, “I don’t know.”

  The answer was honest, but not complete. Although Jonathan didn’t understand how the blade remained whole, he did suspect why. Only a few close friends outside of his immediate family knew that his grandfather had been led to the location of the raw crystal by a dream of the night—a dream in which Father Noah himself had delivered a message of promise. Much like The Thorn, Noah promised that a sword crafted from the unique crystal would be claimed by the Holy One at His coming—a symbol of His kingship, a sword that shone like the blue fire of sister suns, a sword of light.

  The Gideonites all knew about the scepter because their father, Gideon, was there when it was fashioned. But none knew about the sword. And under the present circumstances, Jonathan did not feel impressed to share the story of the dream with Pekah, or the prophecy given to his grandfather. After all, the Gideonites already sought the scepter.