The Thorn tcog-1

by Daron Fraley

  “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 Rachel 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.”

  Eli handed him a water skin as the group began their descent on the winding road toward Ain. He asked about Jonathan’s previous night under the stars.

  “I used young pine boughs to make my bed comfortable, but I didn’t sleep well. Too worried, I suppose.”

  As they rode, Pekah frequently glanced over to watch Jonathan, noticing that he would often reach out to touch Rachel’s hand whenever their eyes met. He felt a twinge of jealousy as he witnessed their tender exchanges. He let out a sigh, masked by the clomping of horses’ hooves.

  Pekah’s mind wandered back to the conversations being carried on between the riders. He found Eli relating the tale of their arrival in Ain on the day previous. Eli told of the reception they received and everything else leading up to the final scene with Manasseh, taking special care to describe the emperor’s violent and angry reaction when Pekah refused to hand over The Thorn. Eli stopped his narration and motioned for Pekah to finish the story.

  Pekah kept his gaze upon the horse’s ears before him, self-conscious about his part in the tale. Choosing his words with care so as not to bring attention to himself, Pekah tried to describe the manifestation of power from above. “A fierce wind blew in the building. It was like being in a storm, but it wasn’t dark. A light entered the room as if from heaven. Jonathan, I could feel it.”

  “You could feel the light?”

  “Yes. It felt like fire, but it did not burn me. And it was stronger than the wind. The light flashed through The Thorn and hit Manasseh. He immediately died, and the building shook and fell apart.”

  “I saw it!” Jonathan said, startled. He leaned forward in his saddle with an intense look on his face.

  “You saw what?” Eli asked.

  “The light! Early this morning, I sat watching the city. The ground shook, and I saw a flash of light. I worried that something terrible had happened.”

  “That’s when we were talking to Manasseh!” Pekah said.

  All three men fell silent, the significance of the event sinking in.

  Now thoughtful, Pekah touched the leather bag hanging from his neck. Realizing that Jonathan had never asked for the scepter to be returned, he mentioned it, but Rachel had Jonat
han’s attention. Apparently confused by the story, she asked more questions, which Jonathan and Eli answered. Pekah listened. By the time they were within sight of the city gates, Pekah forgot his desire to give the scepter back.

  In the distance, they could see the banners of Gideon flapping in the wind, now joined by the banners of both Uzzah and Daniel. A lump rose in Pekah’s throat when he saw the colors posted together. And in my lifetime, he thought. Reviewing the chain of events that had brought him from Hasor to Ain, he marveled.

  When Jonathan asked about the flags, Eli filled in the rest of the story, including the dreams of General Jasher and Captain Amon. As Eli described the procession that flowed into the prison area, declaring the freedom of all with an end to the conflict, Jonathan grinned. He reached out and shook Pekah’s hand. “Thank you, my dear friend. I couldn’t have hoped for a better outcome. You have brought about an end to this war!”

  Tavor spurred his horse closer. “Jonathan-this is actually just part of the army of Gideon. Much work remains to be done in order to truly end the war.”

  Tavor is right, Pekah thought. General Jasher may have aligned with the other tribes, but Rezon has not. At least, not yet.

  There wasn’t much talk after that. Pekah had other things he wanted to say, but noticed that Jonathan had a far-off look in his eyes, as if he were somewhere else, and chose not to disturb him. The last minutes of the journey passed by with only the gentle clomping of hooves reaching his ears.

  They arrived at the gates to find them open, Danielite families gathered both outside the walls and in the courtyard, all assembled for their various journeys back to their homesteads around Ain. Avoiding the noisy crowd, the riders pressed on, past the tents and down the street that would lead them to the central courtyard.

  The first time Pekah and Eli traveled this way, most of the neighboring buildings had either been abandoned or filled with Gideonite soldiers. They were now occupied by Danielite businessmen and families, spending their time tidying up their various properties. The laughter of children was a most welcome sound, but what touched Pekah most was seeing Gideonite soldiers working side-by-side with Danielites and Uzzahites in repairing broken doors, railings, and windows.

  At one residence, two dark-haired soldiers had hung their armor over a post and were in the process of taking orders from an elderly Danielite woman as to where she wanted a large clay flowerpot moved on her flagstone porch. The woman had a gentle hand on the shoulder of the soldier next to her. The other one gazed up from where he knelt as if she were his dearest grandmother. This display of service by men who, just hours before, had been considered conquerors of the city, brought tears to Pekah’s eyes.

  Arriving at the grand central fountain, they found themselves surrounded by a large host of Gideonite soldiers. The gathered crowd listened intently to General Jasher, who stood behind a makeshift podium set up on the exposed floor of the portable stateroom. Pekah rose in his saddle to see if the throne was still occupied, but it was empty. He pulled back on the reins so he could ask a man standing below him what had been done with the body of the emperor.

  “They took Manasseh’s body out of the city and burned it in a funeral pyre,” came the reply.

  Pekah thanked the man for the information and spurred his mount to catch up to the group.

  The travelers arrived together near the northeast corner of the platform and dismounted. A loud cheer arose from the crowd as General Jasher announced he had released all prisoners, and some were already returning to their homes. Even with the clamor, Jasher noticed the arrival of Pekah’s group. He nodded with recognition as one of the escorting Gideonite soldiers raised his hand in greeting.

  “Men of Gideon, my friends of Daniel and Uzzah,” Jasher thundered to the crowd once the noise died down, “we have just one more duty to perform, a duty to make right the wrongs that have been done by our people. We must travel to the other lands of Daniel and of Uzzah. We need to counsel with Rezon, in hopes that he will abandon his oath to wage this war. I am not the man to plead the cause for peace, yet there is now one among us to whom this right belongs.

  “Pekah,” Jasher called, pointing. “Please bring your friend before us, that we may see him together.”

  A hush went through the crowd, and all heads turned toward Pekah. Estimating those listening to be in the hundreds, perhaps even a thousand, he threw a nervous, silent plea to his companions, to which they responded with encouragement. Eli nudged him toward the steps. Tavor and Jonathan followed him for support, but Eli stayed below near Rachel.

  As Pekah trudged toward Jasher, he surveyed the huge assemblage below him. There seemed to be a general attitude of anticipation from the soldiers around the platform, but there were many new faces gathered in the plaza that had not been present earlier in the day. He wondered if they had made the same covenant with Jasher. Because of the concern and distrust that darkened their faces, he doubted it.

  Pekah could see many seasoned soldiers present-captains of ten and captains of fifty, and others who were surely from the late emperor’s personal guard. The expectation in their eyes made him nervous. Others before him appeared to be angry. He followed their disapproving glare toward Tavor and Jonathan. These soldiers would be the most difficult to convince to join Jasher’s cause.

  Jasher motioned Pekah to take his place before the assemblage, which he did somewhat reluctantly. He cleared his throat, and addressed them with a traditional Gideonite greeting, “Prosperity and a safe haven for you all!” This prompted an echoed, “And to you!” from the crowd.

  Pekah’s knees trembled. He cleared his throat again, and with a shaking, open hand, presented Jonathan to the soldiers below. “This is Jonathan, son of Samuel, and the heir of Daniel. He has come seeking peace, and desires your help so all may go home to their families and be comforted from the losses and pains suffered in past weeks-pains and losses that have caused all The Brothers to mourn. Will you join with Jasher and with Jonathan, so peace may be accomplished?” As the words came forth, he was surprised by their strength.

  Apart from those who had already covenanted to join Jasher’s cause, there were a few more declarations of enlistment among the other soldiers. Most were younger men who shouldered little or no visible authority. Other soldiers in the crowd, many of them older, remained stolid, unaffected by Pekah’s announcement. One grizzled, battle-hardened individual even spat on the ground when Pekah paused for reaction. Pekah noticed, but his resolve strengthened, a well of power springing up within. His hands steadied, and his knees held firm. He even felt taller.

  “Just two days ago, after a sleepless night, a son of Daniel and a son of Uzzah shared with me the story of the Raven of Gideon. I am now in my twenty-third year, and never before had I heard this tale, even from my own people. How long has it been,” Pekah demanded, “since Gideon has led any brother lost in foggy paths out into the bright light of day?”

  Not a single voice rose from the crowd.

  “When did Gideon forget the charge given to him by Father Noah, to care for all, and to bring them into safe havens?”

  Again, there was no response.

  Pekah felt his face redden with irritation. His voice almost cracked with frustration as he pressed them again: “ How long has it been? What has Daniel or Uzzah done to merit this aggression from one who should be their brother?”

  The gray-bearded soldier stepped forward, and those around him parted like water. His boots stomped out echoes upon the stones of the courtyard, noises that seemed out of place as the rest of the soldiers stood in silence. He pulled at his beard, and then drew his belt dagger, pointing it in a most menacing fashion at Pekah. “ You, my young son,” the soldier snarled, “have misplaced your trust in Daniel and Uzzah. Your Gideonite brethren have been oppressed for many years by the Danielite and his family. Manasseh himself, a man blessed by visions from heaven, was directed to ask for the scepter of judgment.. and was denied. Daniel will not allow any other to hold or to posse
ss it.”

  Pekah stood dumbfounded at the audacity of the man. Young and inexperienced as he was, he knew full well Manasseh had no right to the scepter, and had certainly never “asked” for it. His plan was to take it forcibly. Captain Sachar himself had proven that fact as he murdered the rightful owner of the relic.

  “You are misinformed,” Pekah fumed.

  The old man bristled at the accusation, and stepped closer to the podium where Pekah stood.

  Searching for support, Pekah saw he was now flanked on the left by Jonathan and Tavor, and on the other side by the general. Jasher’s teeth showed, his smile wide. The general’s expression startled Pekah, and he almost didn’t hear the response of the old soldier.

  “General Rezon is the emperor’s servant,” the Gideonite soldier continued. “I was with Rezon personally when he asked the old Danielite judge for the scepter. Manasseh sent us to request it, and we were denied.”

  “It’s true!” yelled another soldier. “I was with Kalev on that day.”

  Recognition lit up Jonathan’s face. He pulled on Pekah’s sleeve, and he stepped back so they could talk privately. The crowd murmured.

  “Pekah,” Jonathan whispered. “I remember this particular soldier. He rode into Hasor as part of the escort with General Rezon, many months previous. Word came to my father that the Gideonite emperor had sent a small band north for some unexplained reason. I hid in the palace gardens and watched them as they approached my father, who was pruning and grafting trees. The Gideonite men did request the scepter, but not in a diplomatic manner. From my place of hiding, I had an arrow trained on the general’s chest. Rezon threatened my father, saying that if we did not comply, he would return with a greater force to take it.”

  “General Rezon demanded that it be given to him?”

  “Yes, but my father replied that the scepter was not his to give.”

  Pekah thanked Jonathan and stepped back toward the noisy crowd, mulling over the new information. He was annoyed by the half-truths spoken by the stubborn Gideonite. An idea formed in his mind. He pulled the pouch from around his neck, having nearly forgotten it still hung there. Carefully loosening the drawstrings of the bag, he removed the purple cloth within. After unrolling the rod, he lifted it high. It glittered in the late afternoon suns.