Read The Chronicles of Gan: The Thorn Online
Authors: Daron Fraley
Tags: #abigail, #adventure, #bible, #catapult, #christ, #christian, #clean read, #daniel, #eli, #fiction, #gideon, #glowstone, #intrigues, #jesus, #jonathan, #king, #kingdom, #manasseh, #messiah, #moons, #nativity, #pekah, #planet stories, #rachel, #religious fiction, #rezon, #samuel, #scepter, #secret societies, #series, #speculative fiction, #suns, #sword, #sword and planet, #temple, #temples, #thorn, #tribes, #universes, #uzzah, #uzziel, #war, #warfare
Previously a captain of ten, Zev appeared to
be excited by the promotion. He thanked the general, saluted, and
left after being dismissed.
Rezon was pleased with the way Zev had
demonstrated his total commitment.
“I will use him well,” Rezon said out loud,
although no one was there to hear him. He unbuckled his belt so the
returned dagger could hang there once again. After cinching his
belt, he left the tent to return to the campfire. Gad was there,
ready to deliver more news of the preparations. Rezon listened
until Gad was finished.
“Zev, now a captain of fifty . . .” Rezon
said with a long pause, waiting for the raised eyebrows of his
third in command, “ . . . was just here to inform me that Jasher of
Bezek marches with Daniel and Uzzah out of Saron today.” Rezon did
not use the title of “general” for Jasher, now that he considered
Jasher a traitor to the cause.
“We have only two days before their arrival,
then,” Gad calculated. “Unless they march through the night.”
Rezon held up two fingers. “But I think it
will be two full days. The foolish man travels with women.”
Chapter 25
Mercy
A
qua and Azure swam high in a cloudless sky when Rezon’s first
in command and Chief Captain of the Host, Jael of Maharai, arrived
at the main pavilion in the center of the Gideonite encampment.
Jael greeted Rezon warmly—not with the customary salute of all
other soldiers, but with an embrace reserved for very close friends
or brothers. Like complementary patterns of the same weave of
cloth, they carried themselves in a similar manner, yet were a
contrast in physical appearance.
Jael, large and stocky, also of mixed
decent, had short-cropped, straight black hair. His facial features
were more indicative of his Uzzahite lineage than his Gideonite
heritage. Rezon, on the other hand, sported shoulder length
sandy-brown hair and was of average height and build, his inherited
Danielite features unmistakable.
“Rezon,” Jael said in a matter-of-fact tone,
“I am anxious to begin. I want that wall down.”
“So do I. Like you, I’m ready to bring down
the pride of Uzzah. I intend to make this city mine by
tomorrow.”
Both men turned to see Gad approach and
salute. Behind him were two other soldiers, one of whom held a
rope. The other end of the short rope was tightly wrapped around
the wrists of a terrified Uzzahite boy.
One of the soldiers whacked him behind the
knees, and he fell to the ground.
“What is this?” Rezon demanded as he studied
the boy, who was dressed in Uzzahite armor far too large for
him.
“We found him hiding in some trees just east
of here. He’s a spy.”
“I am no spy,” the boy said, trembling.
“Raise him,” commanded the general.
The two soldiers jerked the boy to his
feet.
“How old are you?” Rezon asked.
“Twelve.” The boy seemed calmer.
“What is your name?”
“Daniel.”
“Daniel?
A young Uzzahite warrior by the name of Daniel?
Isn’t that
precious.
”
The boy held his tongue.
“What are you doing here, if you are not a
spy?” Rezon asked, his eyebrows low.
“I came to burn your catapult.”
Rezon laughed. His captains laughed with
him.
“I am impressed by your courage. Do you know
who I am?”
Daniel shook his head.
“I am Rezon, General of the Host of Gideon.
This is my army. I am quite surprised to find you standing before
me, alive. You must be a brave warrior to have come out here
alone.”
Rezon looked to his captains and asked,
“What shall we do with him?”
“Slit his throat,” Jael said, his eyes
cold.
“He
is
a spy,” Gad added.
Rezon’s hands went up. “My countrymen, let
us not be so hasty. This boy has spirit.”
He stepped closer so he could lift Daniel’s
chin. He gazed into the boy’s eyes and saw both fear and
determination. He let go and stepped back. “Who am I to prevent
this young man from accomplishing his mission as a spy? Somebody,
give me a solar.”
One of the soldiers guarding Daniel jumped
forward and handed the general a Gideonite coin, then stood as if
he expected some sort of gratitude. Rezon waved him away.
“Boy, take this coin as your payment. You
are now an emissary of Gideon. Return to your city. Tell them
everything you have seen here. Tell your leaders that I intend to
attack today.”
Rezon closed Daniel’s hand around the coin.
Daniel didn’t flinch.
“Let him go at the edge of camp. Inform the
archers that he is not to be harmed.”
“Yes, sir,” answered Gad.
Rezon and Jael watched as the three soldiers
stopped to talk with one of the archer captains. Once the orders
were relayed, Gad took the boy past the siege engines, through the
front lines, and out onto the road leading to the main gate. When
they cut his bonds, the boy ran. A hand to his forehead to shield
his eyes, Rezon was amused when he saw the boy stop in the distance
and turn to face the army, his arm cocked back. Light glinted off
the coin as it sailed through the air to land near one of the
catapults. Spotters on the wall signaled for the door to open, and
Daniel ran the rest of the way to disappear through the gate.
I can be kind—even
merciful,
Rezon thought, praising himself.
He returned to his tent.
* * *
An hour later, Rezon stood next to Jael in
the safety of a three-walled observation hut placed behind the
front line. Anxious, he shifted on his feet and shook his head.
“Where is Gad?” Rezon demanded,
irritated.
His face red, Jael did not answer, but
stared out from under the propped-up cover of the window facing the
city.
The sound of boots near the hut caught
Rezon’s attention. He turned to see Gad appear at the opening of
the hut.
“General, we are ready.”
“I hope so, because the suns do not travel
backward.”
“I know, General. I’m sorry for the delay.
But the troops are ready now.”
Rezon turned back to the window as Gad
hurried away on another errand. “Jael, hit them hard.”
Jael reached out the window and dropped his
hand in signal. A single horn sounded, then others repeated up and
down the line.
All at once, six catapults were shoved into
position by several hundred men and fired in unison. The first
large stones and iron balls hit the top of the outer wall of the
Holy City of Uzzah like a thunderclap. Two protective merlons
crumbled, exposing a section of the walkway.
Using his spyglass, Rezon saw a spotter run
for cover on the wall, one of Gad’s archers barely missing the man.
Behind the battlements where the spotter now hid, a volley of
flaming arrows from Uzzahite archers whistled high into the sky.
Gad’s shouted commands caused an immediate response from those
protecting the siege engines. A mass of men in green tunics swarmed
over the catapults, and large shields were raised. Most of the
incoming fiery bolts bounced harmlessly to the ground. The
remaining fire-arrows that did hit their intended mark were easily
doused.
Shielded by other soldiers, teams of strong,
muscular Gideonites cranked the arms of the war machines back into
firing position. The men were fresh, and they were able to ready,
load, and fire each catapult at the rate of about three times an
hour. The teams worked tirelessly—cranking, aiming, firing. As the
day passed, frustration set in. Merlons were easy to knock down,
but the solid stone blocks of the wall proved to be much more
difficult, with most projectiles only chipping chunks from the
thick barrier.
In addition to the resilience of the wall
itself, the effectiveness of the catapults was lessened because of
the constant harassment by sorties of Uzzahite warriors from sally
ports at either end of the wall. Both ports were fiercely guarded
by Uzzah. Many Gideonites died while trying to breach the doors
until Rezon called an end to sorties against their attackers.
After several hours of minimal progress
against the central portion of the wall, Chief Captain Jael stepped
away from the observation hut and sent a few messengers to each end
of the line. In response, the heavy wood beams of two catapults
groaned and creaked as several hundred men pushed them back and
then pushed them forward again, this time aiming them toward the
sally ports.
After several missed attempts, one of the
catapults hit its mark. The protective archways covering the outer
reinforced door of the eastern port tumbled to the earth,
completely blocking the exit. An additional catapult was turned
toward the western port, and two tries later, its archway also
fell. Rezon’s army cheered.
“Get those catapults lined back up with the
center!” Jael shouted. He pulled Rezon’s arm and pointed. “Do you
see the archways above the main gates?”
“Yes,” Rezon said.
“I think we should target those too.”
Rezon brought the sight of his spyglass up
to his eye. Massive gates were reinforced with iron plates and
bands, very little of their wooden beams exposed. The successive
archways that extruded from the wall over the main gates were made
of gigantic, precisely cut granite blocks and prevented a direct
hit on the door. Most of the projectiles previously fired had
enough arc left in their trajectory to cause them to bounce off the
top of the protective structures. To this point, the catapults had
not hit the gates at all.
“You’re right, Jael. You are going to have
to get the arches down first. Otherwise, you will never hit the
gates. I do worry, though . . .”
“About what?”
Rezon folded his arms. “We could end up
blocking the gates completely. If we do, we won’t be able to get
the rams into position. Maybe we should just push the rams forward.
The arches could even provide cover.”
“Rezon, those main arches are a death
trap.”
“They have murder holes?”
“And spouts for hot oil.”
Rezon spat on the ground. “Then knock them
down.”
* * *
Uzziel peered down from a spotter’s post in
a blockhouse upon the inner wall. The sound of popping pebbles from
grinding wheels had caught his attention. Below him, the gates of
the inner wall had been flung wide open. Eight machines, much
lighter and more nimble than the heavy catapults being used by the
enemy, creaked their way down the ramp, flanked on either side by
the soldiers who rolled them. He pulled at Josiah’s sleeve.
“What are they doing?”
“Captain Jeremy had us build the onagers in
secret. They were assembled far up the canyon and tested there.
From what I hear, they have been marked with distance lines. With
the assistance of a good spotter and some luck, we should be able
to aim them with great accuracy. Obviously, the Gideonites don’t
know we have them.”
Uzziel was excited. He didn’t know what the
weapons were, but any advantage, especially if obtained by a
surprise attack, thrilled him.
“What do they fire?” he asked.
“Yes,” Abram replied, snickering.
Uzziel was confused at first, but then it
hit him. “Oh!”
A messenger ran up the stairs to the
blockhouse and saluted. “Captain Jeremy sent me. He wanted you to
know that although the eastern sally port was completely blocked by
debris, the western port is still operational. He doesn’t think the
Gideonites are aware of this. Only one of the men stationed there
was injured. None killed. The captain says he will only open the
door again if strategically necessary.”
“Thank you.”
The messenger scurried off.
Through a wide observation slit in the stone
wall, Uzziel stared down at the onagers, now well onto the grassy
pathway between the two protective city walls. Captains of ten and
fifty arranged the engines in an arc and prepared them for service.
A fire-pit, which Uzziel had not noticed before, hummed with
activity. Pairs of men hauled iron balls coated in a sticky, tarry
substance to each onager, handing the projectiles off to the teams
manning the weapons. The teams then loaded the leather pockets
hanging from the ends of the throwing arms.
A spotter on the outer wall relayed
direction and distance for each of the onagers separately. Soldiers
operating the engines moved adjustable stopping bars and anchored
them in place while designated soldiers stood at the ready to set a
burning torch to each tarred ball. Once the spotter signaled their
readiness, the captain gave the order.
Eight flaming balls rose high over the outer
wall and came crashing down onto two catapults near the trenches.
Enemy soldiers near the siege engines stared in disbelief as all
but one of the projectiles hit its mark. An alarm sounded, and
Rezon’s soldiers rushed forward with water buckets to douse the
flames, but one of the units was so completely engulfed by flame
that they abandoned it. The spotter on the wall signaled again,
this time indicating perfect hits.
A cheer that seemed to shake the heavens
echoed back and forth between the peaks on either end of the
valley. Uzziel supported himself on one hand as he leaned closer to
the observation slit, nervous about the retaliation he knew would
be forthcoming. His hand trembled. Frantic activity down below made
him look again. What he saw drew out a smile—sloshing buckets being
passed so fast along a line of soldiers that by the time they
reached the catapults, the remaining water was almost less than a
spit. He had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing.
* * *
Rezon stood in the observation hut, seething
with anger. He shouted orders for the three loaded catapults to be
aimed in the direction from which they had been attacked.
Responding to the commands, soldiers struck latches with mallets,
and the machines launched their stones high over the wall. Yelling
and great commotion from inside floated over the walls, heard by
all the ranks of Gideon.