by Daron Fraley
Rachel let go of Jonathan’s hand and moved past Pekah so she could be closer to the top step. She offered a dry towel. Dripping wet, Abigail took the towel and pulled it fully around her soaked white dress. With a free hand she wrung out her hair. The gazes of the two women met again, tears of joy trickled down their faces, and they embraced.
“Thank you, Rachel.” Abigail said, her voice full of joy.
Rachel hugged her again. “I’m so happy for you. How do you feel?”
“Wonderful. Like fresh rain on a summer morning.”
Starting with Uzziel and his wife, each guest approached in turn and offered heartfelt congratulations and well-wishes. The last to greet her, Pekah stretched out his hand. Abigail reached forward, and Pekah clasped her palm gently between his own. He stared into her eyes, making her blush like a suns-set. She trembled, shivering.
Rachel threw a teasing look at Pekah. “I need to get her into dry clothing,” she said, then led her off to the vestments house.
Jonathan assisted Eli in climbing the last of the font’s steps. “Pekah and I will wait here for you.”
“I’ll hurry!” Eli said, sloshing his way toward another chamber to don dry clothing.
After promising to meet Jonathan at the pavilion in the gardens, Tavor, Sarah, Uzziel, and Miriam excused themselves.
Jonathan studied Pekah. Even with his new short beard, as dark as midnight, the young Gideonite’s face glowed. “This will be a memorable day. Are you pleased?”
“Yes. Immensely.”
Jonathan snickered. “You know, she’s smitten.”
Pekah’s face reddened. “Do you think so?”
“I’ve never seen such a case. What have you done to her?”
Pekah grinned. “Nothing. She likes the beard, I guess.”
“Well, if that’s the reason, you’d better keep it.”
Seeming preoccupied, Pekah only nodded. Jonathan stretched, letting out a yawn. Even though he had tried his best to avoid getting involved in the wedding plans, all the excitement of the past week had made him tired. Now that the day had arrived, he hoped to be able to relax on the morrow.
When Eli returned in his dry temple robes, the three of them left the courts together. They walked out under the graceful, white granite archway into the gardens, where a massive crowd of people thronged between flowerbeds and fruit trees of all kinds. Jonathan was startled to see so many gathered.
As if on cue, the crowd shouted, “Hail to Jonathan, Heir of Daniel, King and Judge!”
Jonathan paused mid-step, somewhat embarrassed by the unexpected attention. Eli urged him to continue. He gathered his composure and strode forward, noticing he was flanked on his right by Eli, friend of his youth and priest of Uzzah, and on the left by Pekah, brave protector, captain of the Host of Gideon. He mused over the fact that using the important titles made him more comfortable—and much less conspicuous.
They marched in perfect synchronization down the cobbled pathway between rows of orchids and under a canvas canopy that had been placed there the previous day. They turned smartly on their heels before they reached the carved stone chair at the center and faced the greeting crowd, composed of Uzzahites, Danielites, and Gideonites of all ages. At a wave from Uzziel, the crowd stilled. Those who had seats took them, while the others stood in respectful silence.
Jonathan noticed that two seats right at the front of the open pavilion remained empty. One of them was next to Miriam. Uzziel motioned to the chairs as if he needed to explain. “Those are for the brides. Can we have two more seats brought forward?”
A couple of men in the back lifted chairs high above their heads and walked through the crowd.
“Here,” Uzziel said, pointing. “And here. I want the honored witnesses to sit on either side.” He invited Pekah to sit on Jonathan’s left and Eli on his right. Jonathan took his place in the stone chair at the center. Uzziel remained standing.
Jonathan wished he hadn’t sat down. He craned his neck upwards, searching the garden path and the white granite archway leading to the temple court. Taking notice of the excited whispers floating through the crowd, he heard that most of the comments centered on the exceptional weather for the occasion. He had to agree. Bright and hot in the sky, Aqua and Azure now neared their weekly eclipse, but cool breezes in the garden provided a welcome relief from the past few days of heat. A perfect day—Jonathan was grateful.
All chatter suddenly stopped when the two long-awaited women appeared under the granite archway. Everyone stood up. Rachel and Abigail walked forward, arm-in-arm, drawing the adoring gazes of many and the envious looks of some. Small, white Queen’s Flowers from the mountains had been woven into a few thin plaits of their hair. The woolly, starred leaflets and tiny, golden flower-heads set off the women’s delicate braids like jewels seated in shining crowns. Both ladies were dressed in simple, strikingly brilliant dresses. The women were stunning.
When they finally reached the special seats reserved for them right at the front of the ceremonial canopy, Jonathan could hardly take his eyes off Rachel. He had never seen her more beautiful. She smiled shyly back at him. Uzziel had to try twice to get his attention.
“Jonathan and Pekah, please be seated.” Uzziel chuckled.
Jonathan noticed they were the last two people standing. Pekah fumbled to find his own seat. Jonathan sat down quickly and apologized, but still held Rachel’s gaze.
Uzziel lifted his hands high. “My dear brothers of Uzzah, your wives, our brothers of Daniel, and your wives, and of course our most welcome brothers of Gideon, and your wives. We are here today to witness the anointing of the heir of Daniel, as a king and judge over his people, until He to Whom the right truly belongs comes to rule among us. And may that day be soon—I have prayed for His appearing. I know many of you have done the same.”
Voices from Daniel and Uzzah rumbled their approval. Even many of the Gideonites joined in, but Uzziel seemed oblivious to their reactions.
“We are also here to celebrate the joining of Jonathan’s heart to that of my precious daughter, Rachel . . .” Uzziel’s voice choked with emotion.
Jonathan saw the way Uzziel looked down upon Rachel. He wondered what it would be like to give away a daughter of his own.
Uzziel wiped a tear that ran down his cheek. Rachel whispered, “I love you,” to her father. Miriam also nodded her encouragement. Finally, the old priest was able to continue.
“We are also here to celebrate another union. Jonathan’s friend of Gideon—a man who saved his life—has asked to take a promised bride unto himself on this very same day. Pekah and Lady Abigail of Gideon will also be joined together in the holy bond of marriage. What a joyous day this is!” Uzziel smiled largely and laughed.
“But I do not care for pomp. And neither does Jonathan of Daniel. Boaz, would you bring me the horn?”
Boaz marched up to Uzziel, bearing the horn of oil, his white and blue temple robes flowing around him. Uzziel accepted the horn and took his place behind the stone chair where Jonathan sat.
Jonathan peered over his shoulder. Without flourish, Uzziel unstopped the large, silver-capped end of the horn, opposite the polished point. When Uzziel smiled at him, Jonathan turned back to the assemblage. He could feel Uzziel lean down, the horn above his head.
In a vibrant tone full of authority, Uzziel declared, “Jonathan, Son of Samuel, Heir of the Tribe of Daniel, I anoint you with this oil as a king and a judge, a priest and a counselor, to stay in this stead until the end of your days and through the eternities. May your life be long, your wisdom deep, your charity unbounded. May your kingdom be unified and never divided from your brothers, Uzzah and Gideon. And may you have peace.”
The crowd remained silent. Uzziel stepped back and handed the oil horn to Boaz, then signaled for Rachel to step forward. Eli also stood, but disappeared somewhere behind the stone chair where Jonathan could not see him. When he returned to stand next to Rachel, he held a purple and white cloth embroidered with the sy
mbol of a serpent, draped in a manner to hide something in his large hands.
“Jonathan,” Uzziel said, “Eli has something for you, which I believe is appropriate for the occasion. Eli?”
Eli smiled, not in his usual jovial manner, but in a way which warmed Jonathan’s very soul. The big red-headed man rocked nervously back and forth on his feet as if unsure whether Jonathan would like what he had brought as a gift. Jonathan reassured him with a supportive nod, and Eli cleared his throat to make an announcement.
“Jonathan, I had some of my men accompany me on an errand two days ago. I rode to Hasor, and I brought something back with me. Rachel helped me make it. It came from your favorite.”
Jonathan was confused until Eli removed the cloth covering. There in his hands lay a simple wreath of olive leaves, painstakingly woven, and unadorned by anything else. Next to it lay The Thorn. Jonathan glanced up at Eli and Rachel in surprise. Rachel winked at him, then took the crown of leaves and placed it on his head with a kiss.
“I love you,” she whispered as she stepped back next to her brother.
Eli then dropped to a knee, handing the newly anointed king the scepter of The Thorn.
Jonathan was deeply touched. He rose from his chair and took both Eli and Rachel into his arms, kissing them both on the cheek. He released them and wanted to say something more about the joy he felt in his heart, but could not. Words would not come.
A cheer of “Hosanna!” from the crowd, now on their feet, broke the awkward silence. Again the cry came, and yet again a third time.
Uzziel turned to face the throng again, waving them back into their seats.
“We have another matter to attend to before we celebrate. Those who would like to wait here until the wedding party returns, may. Others may proceed to the pavilion in the eastern corner of the temple garden. Rachel and Jonathan, Abigail and Pekah, would you follow me?”
Jonathan hesitated, searching the crowd. Finding General Amon and Captain Mehida, he motioned for them to approach. He then removed the olive wreath from his head and handed it to Mehida, and The Thorn to Amon.
“Would you take these for me until I return? I don’t need them within the confines of the temple.”
Both leaders graciously accepted their assignment. The general promised they would wait with the other guests until the men and their brides returned to the pavilion.
Leading Rachel gently by the arm, Jonathan followed Uzziel under the white granite archway—Pekah and Abigail, Miriam, Uzziel, Boaz, and Eli all in tow. Small by most standards, the size of the wedding party felt comfortable to Jonathan, and it was just what Rachel had wanted. Jonathan agreed with her. The sacredness of the event about to take place would be held close to their own hearts.
All in white, they strolled across the temple courtyard, near the font, past the thin, lingering smoke of an early morning offering upon the Rock of Sacrifice, and up onto the stone porch which protected the oak doors of the temple itself. Other priests there greeted them warmly and opened the doors wide so all could enter.
Pekah and Abigail gasped as they stepped into the brilliantly lit foyer, suns-light streaming from glow-stone skylights high above, and some of the finest craftsmanship ever worked in wood, stone, or cloth before their eyes. Although familiar to Jonathan, he remarked on the finely woven carpeting with patterns of wheat as a border, and then on the sculpted handrails adorning twin, spiral, marble staircases ascending on their right and on their left. Chairs with matching desks of cherry wood sat in the corners. Jonathan understood Pekah’s and Abigail’s reactions.
Uzziel directed the group to remove their sandals and shoes, then gave them a quiet moment of reflection before leading them through another oak door. Partway down a carpeted hall, they rounded a corner to enter a small room decorated with nothing more than luxuriously upholstered mahogany chairs and a short stone altar in the center of the floor. Light poured in from above, just like in the foyer. A feeling of reverence and holiness permeated the room.
At the altar, Jonathan and Rachel knelt together before the High Priest of Uzzah and received at his hand blessings of eternity. Eli and Boaz, official witnesses, looked on. Although the ceremony was simple, the profound beauty of it impressed Jonathan. He and Rachel both accepted the binding covenant, then Uzziel pronounced the associated promised blessings. As he did so, Jonathan felt the peculiar sensation of the presence of his own parents. He recognized traits familiar to him—the wisdom of his father, the cheerfulness of his mother.
Thrilled in the moment, he focused on Rachel. Her eyes sparkled. As if she had heard his thoughts, she nodded. Jonathan squeezed her hand tighter, intent on memorizing her expression.
At Uzziel’s direction, they stood and embraced, then held hands as they witnessed the same ceremony once more, this time for Pekah and Abigail. Once the two of them had made the same marital covenant, congratulatory hugs were shared by all. Arm-in-arm, the wedding party then left the temple, walking out into the blazing light of the sister suns. As they entered the gardens, they were greeted by a cheering crowd, the wedding feast already set before them.
Eager guests waited for both couples to take seats at the heads of their tables. Eli, the guest of honor to both couples, offered a prayer of thanks. Then the celebration began. Food was abundant, and wine was served in moderation. There was dancing and story telling, juggling, and short comedic skits. More musicians than Jonathan could count performed their very best. As the afternoon turned into evening, food appeared again.
Not long afterward, the low suns cast shadows throughout the entire city. Glow-stone lanterns were charged and hung all around. When the festivities started to lag, Eli took pity on the tired newlyweds, announcing that it was time to escort them to their accommodations for the night before the Sabbath began. A parade of celebrants formed behind the two couples, and Eli led the way to the home of Uzziel and Miriam.
Humble, yet sufficient, Uzziel’s home had two spacious rooms separated by a loft within the second story, all above the kitchen and main living space. Miriam had suggested the arrangements to Rachel, insisting that she and Uzziel had already planned to stay with friends for a few days. Knowing that Pekah and Abigail would then also have a private place to spend their first nights together, Rachel had consented.
The singing and celebrating parade stopped at the door. Variations on blessings of peace and posterity offered by the well-wishers drew humble appreciation from both brides. Allowing Uzziel’s family some privacy, the crowd dispersed. Eli offered his own private well wishes, as did Rachel’s parents, who gave hugs of congratulation and love to all four of them. The couples then waved to their friends and family, turning to walk into Uzziel’s home together.
Chapter 36
Light
Seven days after the coronation and the weddings of Jonathan and Pekah to their lovely brides, the family celebrations came to a close. Both couples had decided they would return to Hasor after the Sabbath. As a wedding gift, Jonathan offered Pekah and Abigail a small family property within the village walls of Hasor. It would be their first home together.
The newly wedded Gideonites were very grateful for it. Between them, they did not have a possession in the world except the funds that had been delivered to Abigail, partial proceeds from the liquidation of Jasher’s estate. The majority of the funds were given, at Abigail’s request, to Jasher’s ailing mother, Dinah, for her care. Dinah had been invited to come and live with Pekah and Abigail in Hasor, but she declined, saying she preferred to stay in Gideon for the rest of her short days. Abigail relented, yet promised to visit her soon.
Jonathan sat with his bride and all their friends, enjoying one last celebratory meal before the Sabbath. Their gathering was small—only close friends and family, all resting under the sycamore trees behind Uzziel’s home: Tavor and Sarah were there with the boys, Miriam’s sister Deborah, a few of Eli’s cousins, Jeremy and Josiah of Uzzah, Abram’s widow Esther with her boy, and Eder of Gideon, who was quickly bec
oming like a member of the family.
“Where’s your father?” Jonathan asked Rachel as he ran his fingers through her hair.
“I’m not sure. Mother?”
Miriam shook her head with slight irritation and threw a dish cloth over her shoulder as she started grabbing up empty platters and bowls. “A message from Boaz was delivered this morning. Uzziel read it and left earlier than I expected. I assume he’s at the temple, but he didn’t say how long he would be. It has been about nine hours, and now the meal is cold—I wish he’d told me. I just cannot seem to get it through that thick head of his that it’s rude to be late to dinner, especially with all these people . . .”
Miriam’s voice trailed off as she disappeared into the house with an armload of dishes. Sarah and Deborah followed her, bearing plates and cups needing to be washed. Some of the guests cleared their own place settings and filed into the house. Still finishing up with his sons, Tavor sat nearby and fed them. Esther rested in a rocker with her own infant son asleep in her arms.
Jonathan heard a shout.
“Uzziel!” Miriam cried.
Chatter erupted in the house. At first, Jonathan thought they were all just excited to see Rachel’s father. But the tone was different. There were gasps, exclamations, and whispers. It sounded like something was wrong. Jonathan stood up as Uzziel almost stumbled to the threshold of the back door, Miriam on his arm. Her eyes were wide, misty. Uzziel bubbled with excitement, saying over and over, “Come! Come, all of you!”
“Father, what’s the matter?” Rachel asked, rising to greet him.
“Come to the patio, please. Come outside, all of you. There you are! Eli, Jonathan. Are the others still here?”
“What’s the matter?” Rachel again asked.
Uzziel turned around, frantically waving to those in the house. “Just come outside. I want to tell everybody. Please come!” He stepped aside to let everyone exit, then lead an almost-resistant Miriam out to her chair. He asked her to sit down before taking his own seat, gasping.