by Daron Fraley
“No offense, Pekah,” Eli whispered, “but perhaps the emperor could become acquainted with an alternate tapestry scene.”
Pekah was curious. “Like what?”
“Like a raven being crushed under the hoof of an ox,” Eli whispered with a smirk.
Pekah bit his lip to restrain a laugh. He knew Eli meant no harm.
They did not wait long. Two soldiers entered the chamber from behind the throne. One was the tall general from before, and the other man a stout, uncharacteristically short Gideonite—quite heavy, with a bulging belly and almost stubby arms. He wore the insignia of a captain.
Both of them advanced and took seats next to each other against a wall. With sounds of a door closing behind the tapestry, the two soldiers rose to their feet, and motioned Pekah and Eli to do the same.
Pekah felt the blood rush to his face as Manasseh rounded the curtain to stand before the throne. The emperor did not motion them to sit, but rather left them all standing while he tipped a goblet to drain it.
Just as in Pekah’s dream, Manasseh was dressed in green silk vestments hanging loosely on his shoulders, his neck overburdened by a significant amount of varied jewelry and precious chains. Taller than Pekah, Manasseh was still not quite as tall as the general. The silver robe he wore around his neck was kept in place with a heavy, silver chain, and fabric trailed behind him on the floor. Before the emperor took his seat, he set the goblet down on a pedestal, then unclasped the robe and laid it across an armrest of the throne.
Pekah could see that Manasseh closely resembled the image on Gideonite solars, complete with long nose and cleft chin. He wondered why the emperor appeared to be so perturbed.
Manasseh wagged his finger at the general, motioning for him to address the two travelers. The general stood tall and spoke directly to Pekah.
“We understand you have news from Captain Sachar and the battle at Hasor. Tell us your name, and how it is that you are now here, traveling with this man of Uzzah. You are permitted to speak.”
In a blatant show of intimidation, the chubby soldier opposite the general drew his sword and placed the tip on the wood floor so he could rest his hands upon the pommel as he stood.
Pekah felt an adrenaline rush that sickened him. He coughed once, then cleared his throat.
“My name is Pekah,” he began, his voice quivering. “I traveled in the captain’s company on the march to Hasor four days ago. We arrived in the afternoon, the sound of our approach muffled by the rain, and then stood without the walls.”
Manasseh sat forward in his seat. Pekah wondered at the emperor’s sudden interest.
“The order was given to attack the village. We struck swiftly, and many surrendered. Captain Sachar led our troop into the Danielite Council Hall, where we found the chief judge.”
Pekah paused, not sure how to proceed in his telling. The captain had disobeyed orders, and Pekah was uncertain how Manasseh would react to the news of it. The large soldier in the chamber impatiently tapped his sword tip on the floor.
“The judge told us his son had left some days before and had taken the scepter with him. Sachar was upset by this, and killed the judge.”
The general grumbled and muttered something under his breath, and Manasseh frowned angrily.
“We searched the hall in its entirety, but did not find the scepter. The captain then took us into the palace, but we did not have any luck there, either. That night we camped in Hasor and intended to march north to find General Rezon’s army on the following day. Captain Sachar said the general had bypassed Hasor and would be waiting for us near Ramathaim.”
Pekah glanced sideways at Eli. The surprise on Eli’s face reminded Pekah that he had not told either Eli or Jonathan about Rezon’s march north. He wondered if Eli knew anything about the Gideonite general’s character. Well aware of Rezon’s pride and arrogance, he was certain General Rezon would not leave Ramathaim without conquering the city.
“Soldier, finish your tale,” demanded the general.
Pekah straightened. “Our plans to join Rezon did not materialize. The following morning while breaking camp, we were approached by a small band of Uzzahite warriors, one of which is here. His name is Eli. Captain Sachar told the troop that our orders had changed. We marched toward Ain by way of the forest trails.”
Recognition lit the well-fed captain’s face. He spoke loudly, making the walls of the portable throne room quiver. “My king,” he said, pointing to Eli, “This man’s accompanying warriors are imprisoned in this city. I saw them arrive just last evening with a contingent from Hasor, which had traveled without rest for two days and nights. They traveled by way of Saron and the Geber Pass. When they arrived, I learned that the small band of Uzzahites with them had been deprived of their leader by Captain Sachar.”
“But why did Captain Sachar separate from the rest of the army?” the general asked, his tone harsh.
“I do not know, sir,” Pekah answered.
“Where is the captain?”
Suddenly feeling defensive, Pekah felt beads of sweat form on his forehead. He studied the silent emperor, whose face puckered with anger. Manasseh waved his hand for Pekah to continue.
“Eli was taken as a prisoner by my band, under Captain Sachar’s direction. We marched south on the same forest trail used to approach Hasor, with the intention of turning west to bring him here. But as we marched, we were attacked.”
“Who attacked you?” asked the general.
“We did not know who he was, but he was a Danielite. He demanded we release our prisoner, but Captain Sachar did not see the need to surrender, as the Danielite man was alone. The captain gave the command to attack him, but the battle did not go as planned.”
“What do you mean, ‘not as planned’?” the short Gideonite leader interjected.
“The lone Danielite killed every one of our troop, including Captain Sachar, single-handedly. He only spared my life because I surrendered.”
Now irritated, the general took a step closer to Pekah. He put his fists on his hips and demanded to know where the Danielite was.
“He’s not here,” Pekah said, a milder tone in his voice. “But we did travel with him for two days. During that time, we discussed many things, and I considered both what had happened at Hasor and what I would report when I got here.”
Pekah paused, staring down at the ground to gather his thoughts. “My emperor—I wish to tell you of a dream I had, but before I do, I must tell you more about this Danielite. His name is Jonathan. He is the son of the chief judge and heir to the throne of Daniel.”
The emperor did not speak, but a wry smile formed on his face. His baleful expression unnerved Pekah. Shifting on his feet, Pekah avoided Manasseh’s piercing gaze. Help me, he prayed. Gathering his strength, the young Gideonite soldier rose a bit taller, confident.
“Oh, Emperor, he taught me much in these two days. I have come to realize that perhaps I have been wrong about many things . . . things I remember being taught from the beginnings of childhood, and reinforced when I entered the service of my king. During the last two days, I have learned that this Danielite is a good man—a man of integrity and honor. His only desire is for this war to end, and for there to be peace in the lands once again. He wishes to purchase your favor, my king, and this is why we have come with supplies and news of the war.”
Pekah ignored the scowl on Manasseh’s face and took a breath. “The night before last, I had a dream about standing in this very room. I saw you here, my emperor, with these two men. I told Samuel’s son, Jonathan, about this dream, and he told me to come here today. I have brought you a gift from the Danielite himself. He waits outside the city walls, and he has asked that I buy the release of the prisoners in the city. He asks that you sit with him to negotiate a lasting peace.”
The general stepped back to where he first stood and seemed to be somewhat appeased, perhaps even impressed, by Pekah’s bold response. But the other man had a strange look on his face, almost as if he
were in a trance.
Manasseh, on the other hand, did not appear to be amused. He pulled a dagger from somewhere in his garments, pointed it at Pekah for emphasis, and said, with hints of vitriol in his voice, “What did you bring me?”
Eli nudged Pekah and encouraged him to show the scepter. He then whispered into Pekah’s ear, “Holiness, Honor, Humility.”
The dream. This is my dream.
Pekah could feel himself turn as white as snow. His knees weakened, and he dizzied as if he would faint. He gaped at Eli, whose facial expression was concerned, yet supportive.
Pekah shifted on his feet, and with trembling hands, reached for the leather bag around his shoulder. He pulled open the drawstring and retrieved the purple cloth. Slowly unrolling it, he exposed the beautiful glass rod to the light of the many candles in the room. The scepter glistened.
The emperor stood in surprise, recognizing what Pekah held in his hands. He took a step forward, but stopped as Pekah spoke.
“Emperor Manasseh, will you trade the prisoners of Daniel and Uzzah for the scepter?”
Manasseh shook his head immediately. “I will not give you the prisoners. This trinket will not buy their freedom or end this war.”
Pekah’s countenance fell, and Eli stiffened.
“This war will continue,” the emperor almost shouted, “until all of Daniel is destroyed and Uzzah is made to serve Gideon forever.”
Manasseh stood in pure malevolence, his face hard, his eyes cold.
Both Eli and Pekah recoiled from the evil threat. Eli glanced about, as if looking for an escape.
Pekah shocked himself with a forceful and defiant response. “Then you cannot have it!” he cried. “Jonathan, Samuel’s son, sent me to trade this for prisoners. If you do not release them, you cannot have The Thorn!”
For some reason, the general and the captain did not move or speak. They stood as if they had been shackled to the floor and rendered mute.
Anger and hatred seethed from Manasseh’s face. He was a volcano, ready to spew hot, searing lava into the air. His presence seemed to grow in the room, and the darkness he carried made Pekah flinch. At the moment Manasseh appeared ready to burst, with great intensity he commanded his men, “Kill them! Kill them, and bring me the scepter!”
The Gideonite leaders still did not move. They stared at each other, and then, almost as if they were offended by the emperor’s request, they regarded him without any expression whatsoever.
This made Manasseh rage. He shrieked as if stung by a wasp and ran forward with dagger flashing. Unable to react, Pekah stood motionless, his arm still outstretched, the scepter between himself and the furious man. Time seemed to slow, and the steps taken by Manasseh were easily counted.
Eli started to move as if to protect his unarmed friend, but there came a terrible noise like a great, rushing gust of wind. It was as if an unseen tornado had entered the room—unfelt, yet undeniably heard in its roaring intensity. Eli froze. The wind, or unseen power, penetrated Pekah’s body and caused his heart to burn with fervent heat.
Coinciding with that instant, a light, as bright as the lights of Azure and Aqua at mid-day, cut through the paneled roof above them and flooded the chamber with energy and brilliance. It touched Pekah, then sprang forward, coming to rest in the glass rod of The Thorn. Heavenly fire—which did not burn—burst from the scepter at every angle and shamed the candle lights into oblivion.
Manasseh stopped short, his eyes wide and fearful. The light from the scepter blinded him. Then, as if with the force of a battering ram, a direct beam shot from The Thorn, knocking the emperor back into his throne. The rushing wind became tangibly real. It tore the roof and all four walls of the portable stateroom into small beams, sticks, and splinters, scattering the pieces into the air like winnowed chaff. Only the paneled floor, chairs, and candelabrum remained intact.
The walls now gone, Pekah watched in amazement as soldiers from all around the destroyed building scattered like frightened sheep, running for their lives. Chunks of riven wood, brass pegs, cloth, and broken beams rained from the sky. The explosive sound reverberated in the plaza and shook the ground.
With arms up to protect their faces, the general and the captain fell to the floor of the stateroom. Eli’s red hair was in disarray, and Pekah’s dark hair was blown backwards, but both men remained standing, entirely unharmed.
Manasseh slumped dead in his throne, the dagger he still clutched in his hand resting upon his lap.
Light still flickered in The Thorn.
Chapter 14
Rachel
Rising from his knees, Jonathan moved to sit upon a round-topped boulder and stare out into the valley, a prayer still in his heart. The crisp morning air nipped at him, so he held his arms close to his chest, warding off another shiver. Just above the western peaks which bordered the city far below him, Aqua and Azure burned bright in the sky. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, exposing his neck to their warmth.
Please protect Rachel, he prayed. Strengthen my friends.
Jonathan sighed. Waiting, especially with nothing to do but brood, grated at his patience. He opened his eyes and played with a pebble. Nearby, a squirrel chattered, darting from rock to rock, but keeping its distance. When it reached a bush not far from where he sat, it pawed through a pile of sticks, popped something into its mouth, and then raced toward a tree. Jonathan snorted.
“Your life is easy, my little friend.”
He tossed the pebble into the bush where the squirrel had been, and reached for his sack. Finding the last chunk of dried meat, he bit off a corner and held up the rest, hoping the squirrel would see.
“Thank you for showing me your stash of nuts, but I brought my own food.”
The salt tasted good to him, so he chewed slowly, savoring it. Well-lit by suns-light, Ain shone like a jewel, its stone walls and buildings almost white amidst a sea of orchards and field-covered hills. Too far away to make out details without his looking-glass, he thought about retrieving it from his pile of belongings, but didn’t feel like moving.
Like a deep rumble from a landslide, the ground shook beneath him. Startled, he leaped to his feet and surveyed his surroundings, but found nothing amiss. As the sound intensified, he realized it was coming from the direction of the city. He shielded his eyes from the suns and stared out into the valley. At that moment, a fierce blast of light flashed over the center of Ain. Before Jonathan could even gasp, the brilliant display ended. And then it was quiet.
How long he stood there, his jaw slack and eyes wide, he did not know. Still, the city was silent. Eventually he tired of standing. Finding his seat upon the boulder once again, he watched.
* * *
The general rose cautiously, keeping his eyes fixed on Pekah.
Pekah recovered from his shock. He hastened to wrap the scepter, placing it back into the leather bag about his neck.
“Are you all right?” Eli said as he grabbed Pekah’s arm.
“Yes, I think so. Are you?”
Eli nodded.
Pekah rubbed his eyes and ran his hands through his tousled black hair. He blinked several times, then focused on the general, who was helping the captain up from where he had fallen. Fearing they were still in danger, Pekah retreated a few steps, and Eli joined him.
The Gideonite soldiers did not approach them, but stood surveying their new surroundings, undoubtedly shocked to see the walls and roof of the portable stateroom now missing. Like a cosmic crater, the wooden floor of the platform had become a central depression amidst large mounds of rubble, randomly arranged in an almost circular fashion. Just outside the rim of broken beams, cloth, and metal, several of the tents closest to the scene had been toppled by falling debris.
Near the ruined tents, a few soldiers milled about, some of them armed, and others not. The soldiers gazed in earnest at the general, waiting for a command to act. Behind those who had gathered, the plaza fount still splashed, although the water basin and the pool below the
pedestals had several items floating in them.
The general walked cautiously over to the throne. He checked the emperor for signs of life. He sighed and then turned to Pekah and Eli. “He’s dead,” he declared, his voice uneven.
They glanced at each other without a word.
The general shook his head, but then curiously scrunching his face, asked, “Did you say you had a dream . . . about this?”
Certain that Eli wouldn’t want him to say anything that would further jeopardize their situation, Pekah didn’t answer, even though the general’s countenance had softened. The sound of metal on metal caught his attention, and he looked up to witness the stout captain sheathing his weapon. This put him further at ease, but he still didn’t know how to respond.
The general repeated, “Pekah, you had a dream?”
Affected by the general’s calm demeanor, Pekah felt relieved. “Yes, two nights ago. I dreamed I stood here, in the presence of the emperor, showing him the scepter. As I told you, it was sent with me by the Danielite heir to purchase the prisoners.”
The general scratched his clean-shaven chin thoughtfully, and then waved the Gideonite captain over.
“Thank you, Pekah.” The general touched the captain’s shoulder. “My name is Jasher, and this is Captain Amon. Amon, tell this man about your dream.”
Amon stepped forward, crossing his arms across his bulging belly. His heavy breathing sounded as though he had just run a foot race. He answered in a deep, cavernous voice. “Just two nights ago, I dreamed that I was here, and saw a man bring the scepter of Daniel. But I did not see what I see now.” He swept his hand over the area of destruction.
Light danced in Jasher’s eyes. He again put a hand on the captain’s shoulder, but spoke to Pekah. “I, too, saw this day. My dream and Amon’s were one and the same. I dreamed that the war would end because of the man who would bring the scepter of Daniel.”