The Thorn tcog-1

by Daron Fraley

  “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 general 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.

  “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 gene
ral, 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.