by Daron Fraley
“Rachel,” Eli said softly, holding her by the shoulders, “I was very worried when I heard Saron had been attacked. When Jonathan and I discussed where you might be, we only suspected you might be in Ain. Thanks be to the Holy One that you are here, safe.”
Rachel’s eyes twinkled with delight at the mention of Jonathan’s name. Her face glowed with joy as she looked from right to left in the crowd, searching for her betrothed.
“He’s not in the city, my sister,” Eli said as he put his hand on her arm. “Before coming into Ain, Jonathan secreted himself in the hills—he awaits my return with news. Jonathan is not aware that General Jasher of Gideon has declared an end to the Gideonite aggressions, or that Jasher wishes to join Daniel and Uzzah in ending the conflict.”
Eli’s declaration startled her. “How can this be?” Rachel asked.
“This is Pekah . . .”
Pekah bowed at the introduction, his eyes holding hers as he did. Rachel politely nodded.
“He brought a message to the emperor—a message inspired by the Holy One. Manasseh rejected it. A great sign was given from the heavens, and General Jasher witnessed the demise of his leader. Jasher’s heart has been turned, and he has made an oath to join in the protection of Daniel and Uzzah. Our peoples have been freed!”
Tears flowed again down Rachel’s face, and Eli stepped closer to wipe them away. Eli kissed Rachel on the forehead, then held her close.
“How are your feet? Can you travel?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“I want to leave right away and go to Jonathan. Do you wish to come with me?”
Rachel put a hand on her mouth, then she looked away. “Where is he?” she whispered as she brushed hair from her eyes.
“I’ll take you to him.”
Her eyes bright, she pulled herself up and kissed Eli hard on the cheek. “Thank you for coming for me.”
“Jonathan made me.”
Her mouth fell open, then she punched Eli on the arm, making him laugh. “I need my boots!” Rachel said as she ran off to find them.
Pekah tugged at Eli’s sleeve.
“Hmm?”
“She . . . she’s beautiful,” Pekah stammered.
Eli grinned, with arms crossed. “Yes. Yes, she is.”
Chapter 15
Rezon
Two days earlier, just after dusk the same night on which Pekah dreamed of his encounter with the emperor, Rezon’s army camped outside the city walls of Ramathaim. A rich, green aurora billowed near the southern horizon. Embers glowed bright in the campfire next to General Rezon’s tent, where four Gideonite guards stood at attention, one at each side of the lodging. The flickering of a torch within danced upon the thin canvas walls. In the cool, still air, Gideonite soldiers in the camp huddled in small groups around steaming pots of dinner, ignoring the watchman fires upon the high city walls behind them.
On their way to the general’s tent, three soldiers hastened past some troops who slurped on thin stew. Nearly tripping over each other as they went, the tallest of the three fumbled with the straps of his breastplate, while another held his sword and shield. Once they arrived at the general’s pavilion within a tight cluster of tents, the three men approached the guards and stated their business. One of the guards disappeared through the tent flaps and then returned, motioning them inside. They stooped through in single file and found themselves standing before the seated general.
Rezon looked up from a map spread over the table in front of him. He studied the three visitors through strands of sandy brown hair that had fallen out of a thin leather band about his head. He brushed his hair to the side as he stood, then stepped toward the men as two of them saluted him in unison, raising their hands high. The third soldier gawked at the general, staring at his unusual hair color. He did not salute.
Almost amused by the staring Gideonite, a smirk crossed Rezon’s lips. Embarrassed, the soldier’s gaze fell to the ground.
Rezon scratched the stubble on his unshaven face, and then said with indignation, “I’m sorry the color of my hair causes you such . . . concern. My mother was a Danielite.” He returned to his seat and grabbed for a goblet. The soldier still did not look up. Rezon sipped a mouthful, swished the liquid around, and swallowed. He pointed at the soldier who had stared. “You are excused! As you leave, tell the guard at the entrance to see me at once.”
The man finally did salute as he left, his expression dejected. The posted guard appeared through the tent flaps, saluted, and waited for orders.
“Have that man arrested immediately,” Rezon barked. “Take him to the center of camp and flog him. Do not kill him, however. I want him—and those who witness his punishment—to remember it.”
The guard raised his hand and ducked out. The other two soldiers remained at attention before the seated general. The face of the tallest remained expressionless, even stolid, yet the other wore a crooked smile.
After a thoughtful exhale, Rezon addressed them again, using his goblet to motion in their direction. “Which one of you is Ilan and which is Zev?”
The tall soldier blurted, “I am Ilan, and this is Zev.”
“I like the name Zev,” Rezon replied as he set his goblet down and crossed his arms. “I need a wolf right now. In fact, I need an entire pack of wolves. Do you know why my chief captain chose you?”
Both Ilan and Zev said, “No, sir.”
Rezon regarded the two soldiers, inspecting their uniforms. Both were outfitted in the characteristic fashion of other Gideonite captains, and even had a remarkably similar appearance. They were of pure Gideonite descent, with short-trimmed, wavy hair almost as black as night, complemented by clean-shaven faces. Both were battle-hardened, about thirty years of age, and their darkened eyes showed the signs of many years of indulgence in various vices. This pleased Rezon.
He stood, drew the dagger from his belt, and placed it on the table in front of him, deliberately pointing the blade at the two soldiers. Recognition lit Ilan’s and Zev’s faces, and they stiffened. The general moved to stand next to his table and placed his fists at his side. He then spoke in soft tones intended to keep the outside guards from overhearing their conversation.
“You were chosen because Jael trusts you. You are trustworthy, are you not?”
Both men enthusiastically answered, “Yes.”
Rezon paced to the edge of the tent. “How very unfortunate the other man proved to be less than qualified.”
Returning to the table, he pointed at each of the men in turn. “You are here to help me. I have been given the delightful task of bringing Daniel and Uzzah into subjection. This task will be complete within a few days from now. Once I’m done, I am to return to Ain. If they can be found, I will present either the scepter of Daniel, or the head of the heir himself, to the emperor. I am confident the Danielite escaped here, to the great Uzzahite holy city. He surely has the scepter.”
Rezon paused and reached for his goblet again, draining all that remained. He looked at the wineskin hanging from the center pole of the tent, but did not retrieve it. Instead, he set the goblet down, and then almost shouted, “I do not want to bring them to Manasseh!” He stopped, wanting his statement to have some shock effect on the two men. They only stood straighter.
“Manasseh, the Great Emperor of Gideon, has asked that I do all of this for him, thinking that the peoples of Daniel and Uzzah will submit to his will as an ass does to its master, while they grind corn together at the mill. I know something of Daniel, however, and they will never follow a man of Gideon.
“But I . . . am not just a man of Gideon!” His piercing gaze held both soldiers still.
“What would you have me do?” offered Zev, with evident anticipation.
Rezon turned away. Purposely avoiding eye contact, he spoke to the tent wall. “If only the emperor could be . . . convinced.” He turned back, his eyebrows high, lips curled.
Zev leered at Ilan, his grin sinister. He stepped up to the table and picked up the gene
ral’s dagger, holding it in his right hand. Wincing, he squeezed the razor-sharp blade. A drop of blood appeared on the bottom of his grasping hand. Zev placed the dagger back on the table, and then opened his hand, showing two fresh cuts in his palm and fingers. A small amount of blood pooled in his hand, covering other cuts which had previously healed.
“I will remove Manasseh from his place, else I will be removed from mine,” Zev said as he wiped the blood across his own bare neck with the final word.
Without hesitation, Ilan also approached the table to take the dagger, his eyes fixed on Rezon. He repeated the same oath, in the same fashion as Zev. When both of the men standing before him had blood smeared across their necks, Rezon picked up his dagger and wiped the flat of the blade on the palm of his right hand. He then sheathed the weapon without cleaning it.
“I am very pleased. Leave tonight, and return to me when it’s done. I have arranged for your provisions and for horses.”
Ilan and Zev smartly saluted and turned to leave. Rezon called them back. He unbuckled his leather belt from around his green tunic, slipped the dagger and sheath from it, and set the belt down on the table.
“Here,” Rezon said as he handed the sheathed weapon to Zev. “Use this with care.”
Zev gave a bow, and the two soldiers left.
Rezon stood alone in silence. He let out a laugh, so deep and low it sounded like a grunt. The prospect that he would soon be in command of the entire Gideonite army danced in his mind, his greed and lust for power making his pulse quicken.
He returned to his chair after replacing his belt, at a loss of what to do next. While tapping the table with the bottom of his empty goblet, his mind wandered. Thoughts of the coming siege held his attention briefly, but then he called to the guard outside his door.
“What is your wish?” the soldier asked when he entered.
“I’m lonely. Bring me a prisoner—and I will not be pleased if she’s ugly.”
The guard saluted and left. Rezon refilled his goblet, then sat down. A coin on the table caught his eye. He picked up the solar and flipped it over to see Manasseh’s image. Closing his eyes, he rubbed the surface of the coin with his thumb and smiled.
Chapter 16
Jonathan
The cold water from the fountain caused Rachel to gasp as she washed the dried stains of blood and dust from her calloused feet. Taking care not to make them bleed again, she ignored her discomfort and cleaned the healing cuts the best she could.
“Are you all right?” Eli asked as he approached.
“Yes, it just stings.”
“Do you think you can wear your shoes?” he asked, holding them up.
“I believe so. Earlier today I washed my stockings, and a woman who lives in this part of the city gave me some oil to soften the boots. I’ve been working the leather.”
She put on her stockings and took the boots from Eli’s outstretched hands. After latching the brass buckles, she stood to test them. She smiled, pleased to be able to stand without pain. “They feel much better.”
“I’m glad. Are you sure you can travel in them?”
Rachel paused. She hadn’t seen Jonathan in weeks, and the thought of him being just outside the city was almost more than she could stand. “Eli, I would walk barefoot to see him.”
“I know,” Eli chuckled.
* * *
Pekah stood near Tavor and Amon while they discussed their plans. Travel arrangements were finalized as Eli and Rachel approached.
“Are we ready to leave?” Pekah asked.
“I believe we are,” Eli said.
“Eli, is this your sister?” Amon inquired.
“Yes, Captain. This is Rachel.”
“I am Amon of Gilad, a captain of Gideon,” he said, voice rumbling. He bowed, and Rachel dipped her head toward him.
“Your brother has told me the heir of Daniel is nearby in the foothills outside Ain, and he means to bring him here so we may meet. I’ve arranged for horses for both of you, and a small group of soldiers as an escort. When you return, I invite you to accompany me to the central plaza, where we will all meet with General Jasher.”
“Thank you very much for your kindness,” Rachel said.
Eli spoke. “Captain, we plan to return before the evening meal.”
“Wonderful!” Amon said. “I’ll be expecting you. I look forward to meeting this Danielite.”
Following Amon, they made their way back to the plaza where they found a small contingent of men tending enough horses for everyone, including an extra mount to bring Jonathan back, and light provisions, should they be delayed in their return. Amon said his goodbyes and left for his tent.
“Would you like help?” Eli asked Rachel, holding the reins of her horse.
“I can manage.”
“But your feet . . .” Eli protested.
Pekah chuckled. “Better not argue with your sister,” he said.
“So true!”
They all paused as she mounted the horse side-saddle. Once she settled in, the men readied themselves. The Gideonite captain assigned to accompany the group did not say much, but motioned for them to follow. They went at a leisurely pace. This gave Pekah another chance to admire the fountains and balconies of Ain. Although beautiful in their own right, the cities of his homeland were significantly more plain—no fountains, and the buildings were typically made of large timbers. I would live here, he thought.
It did not take long for the group to navigate through the maze of streets, and they soon found themselves outside the city walls with the gates closed behind them. The escorting captain rode around the group to get a headcount. Once he was certain none had strayed, he gave the command to ride.
As they rode, a gentle breeze carrying the scent of farmland reminded Pekah of the abandoned farms, untended animals, and quiet homes he had seen previously. A milk cow grazing on an open hillside caught his attention. The sight of the loose animal reminded him that the families had not yet returned to their homes.
Soon they left the outskirts of the city, where they began the gradual ascent of the winding switchbacks. Pines and oaks were scattered along the road, but the trees did not obscure the view of the tops of the hills or the rocky outcroppings in the heights on the north side of the pass.
Pekah watched the area intently, hoping to catch a glimpse of their friend, but searched in vain. A hawk circled near the top of the rise, taking advantage of the late morning thermals, but nothing else moved in the area. The twin suns, warm and bright above them, felt good to him.
Conversation had been scarce during the short ride, but now that they neared the top of the switchbacks, they fell silent. The Gideonite soldiers who had provided the escort now motioned Pekah to direct their way. He led them off the road and across a dry stream bed, where they stopped near some trees at the base of the rock outcroppings. Pekah dismounted and tethered his horse. Eli joined him. Except for Rachel, the rest of the riders remained in their saddles. She jumped down from her perch. Her mouth open, she craned her neck, searching. Pekah cheerfully accepted the reins from her hand and tied her horse to a tree branch next to his own.
“We should look there,” Eli said, pointing farther up the hillside. “I think Jonathan would have chosen a more secluded spot above us for his refuge.”
Pekah thought about it and agreed. Rachel remained behind, but he followed Eli a short distance to a spot between two rock outcroppings, both as large as wagons. Pekah leaned into the slope to continue climbing. A few pebbles tumbled down from above them, causing both men to look for the source.
A familiar face appeared around one of the massive piles of stone. Jonathan appeared to be nervous, holding his bow defensively while he watched the company of Gideonites waiting a bow-shot away.
“Everything’s fine!” Pekah assured him.
Jonathan looked at Pekah, at Eli, then at Tavor among the soldiers. He seemed to relax. Then his eyes fell on Rachel.
Pekah turned his head to see Rache
l stumbling up behind him, her eyes wet. Jonathan returned his arrow to his quiver and hurried down to her. Before she could embrace him, he fell to his knees, grabbed her hand, and held her palm to his cheek as he closed his own tear-filled eyes. She stooped to wipe his wet cheeks with her other hand, then tugged at his shirt sleeve until he stood.
Jonathan did, and with a gentle pull, he brought her close and held her. With her head nestled near his, the two of them whispered several things unheard by the rest of the party. There were nods from Rachel, and even a slight giggle. He held her for a few more moments and then released her, but kept her hand tightly in his own as if not willing to let it go.
Pekah and Eli stepped closer to the pair, both grinning.
“Glad to see you,” Eli said. “I can hardly wait to tell you what has happened.”
Jonathan surveyed the faces in the group below, taking extra time with those who were Gideonite. He motioned for Pekah to come closer, and then in a hushed tone asked, “Why are they here, if you’re not a prisoner?”
Speaking in a manner and volume intended to address the entire group, Pekah told Jonathan they had all come as an escort to find him, and General Jasher of Bezek had declared an end to the conflict.
“Jonathan, the Three Brothers are once again at peace!”
“Tell me how,” came Jonathan’s incredulous reply.
“I assure you, it’s true. Eli will tell you everything while we ride back to Ain. Shall we go?”
Jonathan nodded, then proceeded to escort Rachel to her mount, an arm around her shoulder. Falling to one knee and steadying her hand, he provided a step and lifted her gently to her seat. Rachel did not protest as she had with Eli. Her eyes bright, she beamed at him, and he kissed her hand before releasing it.
Taking his place on a steed provided by Tavor, he begged them for a drink. “My water skin ran dry this morning. I was too far from the river and didn’t want to leave my lookout.”