The Chronicles of Gan: The Thorn

by Daron Fraley

  Troubled, Pekah put a fist over his mouth, his head bowing toward the ground. He looked back up at Eli. “I’m very sorry to hear it. Jonathan must feel terrible.”

  “Jonathan blames himself, or at least he used to. Do you understand why I am surprised at his behavior?”

  “I think so.” Pekah recalled the manner in which Jonathan had forgiven him near the stream—sincere, gentle, and reassuring. Not a hint of desired retribution. Pekah wondered if Jonathan’s struggle to forgive himself had taught him compassion for others. “Thank you for telling me, Eli. I appreciate being able to get to know him a little better.”

  “You’re welcome. I doubt he would have told you that on his own, but I thought it was important to share. He’s a good man, and I think he could use another trusted friend.”

  Pekah thought of his own family. A father he never knew. A mother he missed. No siblings. He sighed. “I could use a good friend, too.”

  Eli smiled.

  In the distance they could now make out the eastern gate of the city, including the banners of Gideon snapping in the evening breeze. Soldiers milled about near the wall, keeping watch. Pekah and Eli took the opportunity to exchange well-wishes. Pekah steeled himself against the possibility of being taken prisoner or failing in his mission. Their march toward the city wall remained deliberate and sure.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Pekah said. “When we get to the city, the Gideonites may not like the fact that we’re traveling together, and you’re not in bonds.”

  Eli put out his hands, ready to be taken prisoner.

  Pekah chuckled. “We’re not doing that again! I just wondered if you have any idea what to say to the guards.”

  “Say as little as possible, I suppose. We should demand audience with Manasseh. Anything else might get us into a whole lot of trouble. What do you think?”

  Pekah thought for a minute. “I agree.” Although he was still nervous, this straight-forward plan strengthened his resolve. They walked the rest of the way in silence.

  “What is your business here?” came a bellow from the gate-tower once they were within earshot of the city entrance.

  Pekah did not answer, but raised his arm in greeting, and Eli bowed his head low. A few of the soldiers outside the gate readied themselves to meet them, drawing weapons. Pekah waved again as they approached, making sure his raven-emblazoned breastplate was plainly visible. One of the Gideonites waved back in acknowledgment, but then dropped his arm quickly.

  As they drew up to the rise in the road which led to the wall, several of the soldiers, with weapons in hand, came to inspect the wagon and the two men. The largest soldier among them, who seemed to be in charge although he did not wear any distinguishing uniform, stomped up to Pekah and threw a sour expression of displeasure in Eli’s direction.

  “What is your name, soldier, and why are you with this man of Uzzah?” he spat out, a drop of spittle landing on his chin.

  “I am Pekah, and this is Eli. We have traveled far with a gift of supplies for the emperor and news of the war in the north.” Pekah paused, and then added, “We also bring important news from Captain Sachar and must see the emperor at once!”

  The large Gideonite scratched his left forearm with the pommel of his short sword, hesitated a few seconds, but then waved them onward. “Open the gate!” he hollered, loud enough to startle the horses.

  The gates complained as they swung inward, revealing a cobbled pavement leading into the city. Pekah was motioned to enter, and he shot a nervous glance at Eli as they both tugged on the horse halters to pull their load forward. The Gideonite leader assigned four men to escort the wagon. Several of the soldiers guarding the gates whispered to each other as the group of men crossed under the archway.

  Once they had passed the posts, the doors were again secured behind them, and the four escorts led the way into the city. They passed tents in the entry court and then followed a well-worn cobbled passage flanked by stone and brick buildings, many of them outfitted with canvas awnings hanging over the two-lane street. The shops and businesses they passed were unattended, many showing evidence of looting. Several of the doors were torn from their hinges, and a few of the buildings were being used as makeshift barracks by armed Gideonite men. The sounds of the horses’ hooves echoing between the buildings grabbed their attention, but Pekah did not acknowledge the onlookers. Eli was as silent as a rock.

  The short street emptied into a small round courtyard, punctuated by a beautifully carved stone fountain that depicted an overflowing flower basket, with four spouts arcing into a pool of clear water. A spillway from the pool filled a shallow, covered aqueduct, which ran down the side of the fountain to become part of the road before disappearing somewhere behind the walls of a neighboring building. The escorting soldiers allowed a few moments for Pekah and Eli to drink, and then hurried them on again, out of the court and into the confines of another narrow street.

  This street was much like the first except for the fact that the buildings here were all two-story. It also emptied into another round courtyard, graced by yet another fountain. Not as elaborate as the last, the sight of the fountain did not hold Pekah’s attention. Worried about what he might say to the emperor, his beating heart thumped in his chest, distracting him from appreciating the picturesque balconies, exquisite iron railings, and vibrant flower pots above him. He trudged onward.

  When they broke free of the road and entered into the central plaza of Ain, Pekah could see the sharp edges of the eastern mountains in the distance, slicing Aqua and Azure as they drooped ever lower. Soon the colors of dusk would burn lines across the sky. Pekah was bothered by the lateness of the day. He hoped they would still be able to deliver their message and avoid staying the night in Ain.

  Noticing that shadows from the buildings obscured some details of the stone walls surrounding the immense court, he traced their edges to the well-lit center of the city plaza. There sat another wide and impressive sculptured fountain. The awesome sight of it nearly took his breath away.

  A huge granite bowl rested more than two stories high upon three separate pedestal columns, whose footings dipped into a perfectly round, raised pool. Flanking all sides of the splashing pool were statues of lions. They stared outward as if guarding the precious water, and their polished manes glistened in the mist produced by the fountain’s clear curtains. Underground aqueducts on opposing sides of the lower pool took the spring water to various parts of the city, and the stone cobbles above them betrayed their presence with a gentle rise. Near the northern edge of the plaza, next to the spot where one of the aqueducts disappeared behind a brick and mortar wall, Pekah could see remnants of the original landscape. There was still a five-foot rock outcropping that the builders of the city had chosen to pave and build around, rather than remove.

  Near the rock stood a most peculiar wooden structure surrounded by several canvas tents. About nine feet tall, fifty feet long, and forty feet wide, the building was made of stained wood panels fastened together by slotted beams. These beams were stained green, connected at the top to cross-members that in turn were fitted with other wood panels, forming a pitched roof. The structure was locked together at various joints by polished brass pegs, and their accent against the richly stained panels attested not only to the fact that this structure was portable, but that it belonged to someone of wealth.

  As they continued to walk, Pekah spied a flag fluttering in the late evening breeze near one end of the building, and he gulped. It was the banner of Manasseh. Sewn onto the flapping cloth was a more detailed version of Aqua and Azure, an image pressed into all Gideonite solars. With the intended goal of their mission now imminent, he suddenly had the urge to flee. He looked at Eli, whose jaw was set, his eyes wary.

  Pekah wanted to express his anxiety to Eli, even if he had to whisper, but the escorting soldiers stopped and held them back with an upturned hand. One of them walked toward the tents.

  While they waited, Pekah observed the other soldiers wh
o milled about the plaza, and saw some of them leaving in groups toward the west side of the city. Because of the constant activity on that road, he suspected prisoners were being held in that area.

  The soldier returned from the tent almost as quickly as he had left, and said, “I have spoken to the general, but he forbids you to see the emperor today. He has arranged for a tent to be prepared. The emperor will see you in the morning, in his stateroom.”

  Orders were given, and the other Gideonite escorts left with the wagon and horses.

  “Follow me,” the soldier then commanded in a tone that conveyed his impatience.

  They marched briskly toward the group of tents, passed several, and arrived at a small one next to a wall. The tent was in the process of being vacated by two unhappy captains, gathering their things in haste. Once the captains finished and left, the Gideonite guide curtly dismissed Pekah and Eli for the evening.

  “A meal will arrive shortly. A watch will be posted. Do not leave your quarters.”

  Pekah pushed through the entrance folds, and Eli ducked to enter. Once inside, they saw their assigned barracks had been supplied with canvas folding cots, both with bedrolls and pillows, and a glow-stone lantern sitting on a tiny portable table.

  Even though they would not be able to deliver their message until morning, Pekah felt an immense burden lifted from him just to be away from the other soldiers. Greatly relieved they had not been imprisoned, he breathed easier. Eager to sit down, both men unbuckled the swords about their waists.

  “We weren’t deprived of our weapons—do you have any idea why?” Eli asked.

  “I believe it’s because I was in uniform,” Pekah said. “It would be improper for them to remove my weapons without some order to do so.”

  Eli shrugged and scratched his scruffy red beard, shaking some of the travel dust of the day from it.

  Pekah grinned, then teased, “Apparently, they let you keep yours because you didn’t scare them, either.”

  Eli chuckled. Both men removed quivers, bows, boot knives, swords, and daggers, placing all the weapons at the ends of their separate beds. Eli laid his staff next to his cot. Both men shook the pillows and situated their bedding. About this time, the same Gideonite soldier entered the tent with a tray containing two bowls of hot stew and some bread crusts. He set it down on the table and took a wineskin from his shoulder. Without a word, he exited the tent and pulled the flaps closed. Pekah could see by the dim shadows cast on the tent wall that two guards were posted near the entrance.

  “A very social fellow,” Eli observed in a mocking tone.

  Using the cots for benches, they sat down to the first hot meal they’d had in many days. Eli offered a simple prayer of thanks, after which they picked up the bowls. They had been given no eating utensils, so they used the crusts of bread to sop up the gravy juices, and then tilted the bowls to eat the meat and vegetables left behind. Once they finished, they took turns drinking from the skin, after wiping the crumbs from their faces with their sleeves. Eli belched loudly and apologized, but Pekah didn’t mind.

  “I wonder if Jonathan will get any sleep tonight. Cots are certainly better than rocks,” Eli said, pointing down at his bed.

  “As long as a Gideonite patrol doesn’t find him, he’ll be fine, I’m sure.”

  “Well, I don’t plan on being bothered by your Gideonite friends tonight. I have no intention of leaving the tent.”

  “Nor I. My bones are weary. Sleep is all I want right now.”

  “I agree!”

  They pushed their cots back to the walls of the tent and moved the table near the door. Eli wasted no time in making himself comfortable for the night. Although the energy of the glow-stone lantern was already fading, Pekah tossed a cloth he found on the tent floor over the top of it, then climbed into his bed.

  Exhausted from worry and a long day of walking, he fell asleep almost immediately.

  Chapter 13

  Manasseh

  Just after sunrise, Pekah’s sleep was interrupted by the clanging of a bell somewhere in the distance. He sat up to yawn and stretch, even though he didn’t feel like moving. The stone beneath his feet sent an ice-cold shiver up his legs. Wasting no time, he pulled on his stockings, then yanked on his boots. He stomped each of his heels in turn until both feet were comfortable. Still having little motivation to stand, he remained on the cot and watched his friend.

  A scowl on his face, Eli grunted several times as he pulled his boots close to his own bed and then fought to put them on. Normally, Pekah would have wanted to laugh, but he only let out a heavy breath, remembering what would soon take place. Having never met the emperor before, Pekah wondered what Manasseh’s temperament would be. He could only hope it would be good.

  Light streamed into the tent when the Gideonite escort from the night before stepped inside, bearing a morning meal of eggs, sausages, rolls, and fresh milk. Without a word, the soldier left them with the bounty.

  It was obvious to Pekah where the army had gotten their supplies. He felt certain the Danielite prisoners did not have any say in the matter when it came to the spoils of their defeat. The Gideonite army ate well, thanks to their captives.

  Knowing Eli would want a blessing said over their meal, Pekah volunteered to offer it. Eli appeared to be somewhat surprised, but encouraged him to do so. It had been a long time since Pekah had prayed out loud. He thought for a moment about praying at his mother’s knee. Those prayers had only been the heartfelt pleas of a child, but they had been sincere. Afraid to attempt more than a simple expression, he gave thanks for their meal and asked merely for help in their conversation with Manasseh that day.

  The two of them relished the hot meal. After they were done, they took a brief moment to tidy their tent and retrieve all their belongings. Now with nothing left to do, anxiety once again scratched at the door of Pekah’s mind. He fought off the feeling by pacing in the tent.

  “Do you think we should venture out the door?” Eli asked.

  “I suppose so, but are the guards still posted?”

  “There’s one way to find out!”

  Eli lunged forward and ducked through the tent flaps. Unwilling to be left alone, Pekah hastened out behind him, and when he stepped into the morning light of the suns, he was instantly met by armed guards.

  “You may wait here, but you cannot leave the area,” one of them said.

  Pekah acknowledged him, and backed up to lean against the stone wall of a building that bordered the plaza. Right above him was a shuttered window and a railing being used to hang wet clothing. He moved to the side to avoid the dripping, and Eli joined him. This gave them both a view past the Gideonite tents and into the plaza, where the fountain they had admired the previous evening still swelled and splashed. Many more Gideonite soldiers were present, and some of them escorted prisoners to and from various locations in the city. Pekah didn’t know why they were moving prisoners about, but he suspected they were being used to provide the army with manual labor.

  After watching one particular group disappear down a narrow street, Pekah’s gaze fell on a pile of weapons far against the opposite side of the plaza, heavily guarded. Those must be weapons confiscated from the defending Danielites, he guessed. Images of the battle at Hasor once again started to creep into his thoughts. He fought them off and stared at the fountain.

  Their escort returned with a uniformed man who stood as tall as Eli. He wore markings of rank, indicating he was a general. Pekah gave a respectful salute, and the general gave a single nod. The escort then dismissed himself.

  “I have been with the emperor this morning, and I told him of your arrival. He awaits your news,” the general stated in a most official manner. The confidence and stature of the Gideonite leader made Pekah uncomfortable.

  The general motioned them to follow, departing toward the wood-paneled building. As they arrived at the north entrance of the portable stateroom, the guards that had accompanied them took positions by the door, and the genera
l opened it. He demanded that they remove all weapons, which were put in the care of the guards outside. The general then led the way. Pekah and Eli exchanged anxious glances, but followed him inside. Pekah’s heart pounded. The general secured the door, then led them around a hanging tapestry and into a well-lit chamber.

  In the closest corner of the room stood a desk for writing, supplied with various types of papers and parchments, and an inkwell. Several wooden chairs, each paired with a small table, lined the two opposite walls of the chamber. A branched candlestick rested upon every table. Pekah was surprised to see large, wax candles atop each branch, instead of glow-stones. The scent of the candles reminded him of pine sap.

  The main furnishing of the room was a high-back throne with engraved posts, large armrests, and solid sides. The gilded headboard sported a border of gold leaf and bore the symbol of the Tribe of Gideon at its center. The raven was exquisite, with etching so detailed that the multi-colored stained woods that made up its feathers appeared real enough to fly away. The raven’s eye had been inlaid with a single ruby, and its shiny beak was of beaten gold. It did not take any serious thought for Pekah to determine who would sit there.

  The general pulled two of the chairs from the wall and set them at a distance, facing the portable throne. “Sit here until I return,” the general directed. He then stepped behind the throne, around another hanging tapestry, and through an unseen door that Pekah heard click when the general closed it.

  Pekah stared at the curious tapestry that depicted a raven with a serpent in its beak and coiled under its claws. Gideon typically depicted the raven with a sprig of berries in its beak—it bothered him to see the serpent there. He frowned at the blatant political statement. Looking away, he saw that Eli, too, had noticed.