The Chronicles of Gan: The Thorn (15 page)

The soldier returned from the tent almost as
quickly as he had left, and said, “I have spoken to the general,
but he forbids you to see the emperor today. He has arranged for a
tent to be prepared. The emperor will see you in the morning, in
his stateroom.”

Orders were given, and the other Gideonite
escorts left with the wagon and horses.

“Follow me,” the soldier then commanded in a
tone that conveyed his impatience.

They marched briskly toward the group of
tents, passed several, and arrived at a small one next to a wall.
The tent was in the process of being vacated by two unhappy
captains, gathering their things in haste. Once the captains
finished and left, the Gideonite guide curtly dismissed Pekah and
Eli for the evening.

“A meal will arrive
shortly. A watch will be posted.
Do
not
leave your quarters.”

Pekah pushed through the entrance folds, and
Eli ducked to enter. Once inside, they saw their assigned barracks
had been supplied with canvas folding cots, both with bedrolls and
pillows, and a glow-stone lantern sitting on a tiny portable
table.

Even though they would not be able to
deliver their message until morning, Pekah felt an immense burden
lifted from him just to be away from the other soldiers. Greatly
relieved they had not been imprisoned, he breathed easier. Eager to
sit down, both men unbuckled the swords about their waists.

“We weren’t deprived of our weapons—do you
have any idea why?” Eli asked.

“I believe it’s because I was in uniform,”
Pekah said. “It would be improper for them to remove my weapons
without some order to do so.”

Eli shrugged and scratched his scruffy red
beard, shaking some of the travel dust of the day from it.

Pekah grinned, then teased, “Apparently,
they let you keep yours because you didn’t scare them, either.”

Eli chuckled. Both men removed quivers,
bows, boot knives, swords, and daggers, placing all the weapons at
the ends of their separate beds. Eli laid his staff next to his
cot. Both men shook the pillows and situated their bedding. About
this time, the same Gideonite soldier entered the tent with a tray
containing two bowls of hot stew and some bread crusts. He set it
down on the table and took a wineskin from his shoulder. Without a
word, he exited the tent and pulled the flaps closed. Pekah could
see by the dim shadows cast on the tent wall that two guards were
posted near the entrance.

“A very social fellow,” Eli observed in a
mocking tone.

Using the cots for benches, they sat down to
the first hot meal they’d had in many days. Eli offered a simple
prayer of thanks, after which they picked up the bowls. They had
been given no eating utensils, so they used the crusts of bread to
sop up the gravy juices, and then tilted the bowls to eat the meat
and vegetables left behind. Once they finished, they took turns
drinking from the skin, after wiping the crumbs from their faces
with their sleeves. Eli belched loudly and apologized, but Pekah
didn’t mind.

“I wonder if Jonathan will get any sleep
tonight. Cots are certainly better than rocks,” Eli said, pointing
down at his bed.

“As long as a Gideonite patrol doesn’t find
him, he’ll be fine, I’m sure.”

“Well, I don’t plan on being bothered by
your Gideonite friends tonight. I have no intention of leaving the
tent.”

“Nor I. My bones are weary. Sleep is all I
want right now.”

“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

J
ust 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 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.”