The Chronicles of Gan: The Thorn (28 page)

Stretching further out the open window,
Rezon thought he could make out screams of pain.

Oozing with delight at the successful hit,
he guffawed as he slapped Jael on the shoulder. “That will teach
them.”

* * *

Uzziel held his breath as three large stones
sailed high over the battlements, hurtling toward the open field
between the walls of Ramathaim. He stood, his old eyes focused on
their expected impact point, then he let out a sigh of relief when
he realized the onagers were already being moved. He watched with
interest as a group of Uzzahite soldiers ran up to the three
Gideonite stones that missed their mark, now sunk into the grassy
turf. Turning toward the wall with their hands cupped around their
mouths, a few soldiers took turns yelling. Some of the men banged
on shields. One of them screamed as if in pain. Then, with their
ruse accomplished, they hurried from the area and rejoined their
ranks.

Peering down to where the onagers had been
moved, he saw that soldiers were already prepping them for another
attack. He clapped his hands with joy as he saw the Uzzahite
captains manning the weapons signal to the spotters that no one had
been injured, and that all the machines were safe.

Soldiers brought fresh leather pockets to
replace the ones that had been damaged by the flaming projectiles,
then loaded more tarred iron balls. The targeting and firing
process repeated, and as soon as the fireballs were airborne, the
rope-drawn onagers lurched toward the central ramp.

Intent on the fields outside the outer wall,
Uzziel listened as the missiles fell. He heard the splintering
booms of another breaking catapult. He heard shouts—cries of
pain—the twang of bows from enemy archers randomly targeting areas
around the last known firing location. Above it all, he could hear
a single man ranting at the top of his lungs. Unintelligible
threats drifted up to the blockhouse. Uzziel could not make them
out at first, but then recognized a few distasteful words. He
frowned.

Leaving the blockhouse so he could avoid the
language and also congratulate Captain Jeremy, stationed below,
Uzziel motioned Josiah and Abram to follow. As he descended the
steep stairs with Abram’s assistance, the ranting continued to echo
off the cliff walls on either side of the city. Uzziel wondered who
was so angry. The few words he could make out were offensive, and
one even blasphemous. He wiped his brow, muttering under his
breath.

“May the God of heaven have mercy on that
man’s soul.”

Chapter 26

Subterfuge

L
ate that evening as the first stars flickered in the sky, the
battle between Gideon and Uzzah paused like breathless silence at
the end of a sigh. Rezon stood in the doorway of his tent,
observing the tiny watch-fires upon the walls of the city. Repeated
pounding on the archways above the main gate had not yet broken
them, but support structures had crumbled. A single, great crack
had also appeared above the gate. Now that they were unstable,
Rezon suspected the archways would fall on the morrow.

He tore at a chunk of jerky, punishing the
salty meat with his teeth. He was pleased by the progress made
during the afternoon, but the recent loss of another catapult
irritated him. He swallowed hard and gulped from a goblet. At his
side, Jael and Gad discussed strategy for breaking the gates. He
held up his hand, and their conversation ceased.

“So, you believe the arches will fall, and
you will still be able to push the rams into place? How do you
propose to move the rubble?”

Jael drew in a big breath. “Yes, they will
fall. But not all the rubble will have to be moved. The rams are
not very wide. Besides, with the arches down, whatever passageway
the Uzzahites built into the wall will be completely exposed. Our
own archers should be able to hold the enemy down. You will gain
entry to the outer courtyard by nightfall tomorrow.”

Rezon looked at Gad, who seemed to agree.
“You have convinced me. As you said, we will need to be prepared to
hold the outer wall as we advance the catapults and rams.”

“It has all been arranged,” Gad assured
him.

“Good. Even the archers?”

“Five hundred strong,” Jael replied.

“Wonderful. I am dreaming of entering the
city. I hear it’s such a nice place to live.”

“You shall have the grandest estate we can
find within the walls,” Gad promised.

“Estate?” Rezon asked, feigning
surprise.

Gad flinched as if he had said something
wrong.

Rezon sneered. “No, my dear captain. I do
not intend to have the largest estate. I will leave that to Jael of
Maharai.”

Jael folded his arms across his puffed
chest. Gad now appeared to be confused.

Rezon leaned closer to the captain and said
in an earnest, breathy tone, “I intend to occupy the temple
itself.”

Jael let out a loud, approving whoop. The
sound of it echoed off the walls of the city.

* * *

Just a day’s journey away from Ramathaim,
four units of ten Gideonites readied for the night by finishing
their evening meal, gathering firewood, stoking campfires, and
posting guards to watch over the camp until morning. From a
distance, Jasher’s advance group observed their preparations
through numerous spyglasses. They knelt on the ground, talking in
whispers.

Jonathan stowed his
spyglass in his shoulder bag, grateful that the Gideonites had
chosen to camp on the road rather than in Hasor.
Inviting them to depart will give me great
pleasure
, he thought.

“What are your orders?” Amon asked the
general.

Jasher paused, and then said with
determination, “We will confront the group now. If they surrender,
I’ll send them home to the mountains of Gideon. If they do not . .
. we will end it.”

Amon motioned for Sodi, one of the other
Gideonite captains in the advance group, to bring up his men. Sodi
scuttled forward, taking a knee next to the general. Pointing to
the village, Jasher ordered the captain to sneak off to the south
and then approach the encampment by staying close to the western
wall of Hasor.

“Sodi, I need you to obtain that western
position, in sight of their camp, and wait,” Jasher instructed. “I
will bring a company of one hundred and fifty right up to the camp,
with the banners of Gideon out front, followed by Daniel and Uzzah.
Captain Amon will take a position opposite you, with Captain Mehida
to protect my flanks. Captain Ezra of Daniel will support. When the
situation appears to be under control, join me.”

Sodi bit his lip and gave a seemingly
reluctant nod before accepting the assignment. The hesitation
surprised Jonathan. He glanced over at Jasher, but the general was
intent on the enemy encampment. Jonathan felt certain Jasher had
not noticed Sodi’s reaction. He wondered at Sodi’s strange
behavior.

At Jasher’s direction, the captains left
with their units to take up defensive positions. While the
remaining group waited for Amon and Sodi to signal their readiness,
Jasher instructed the women present to stay behind with another one
of his captains. Both Abigail and Rachel agreed to remain by the
road with the main army.

It took some time for the captains to get in
place, but once they were, Jasher called for his men to march. The
eastern hills swallowed the sister suns as the army stomped their
way to the Gideonite camp, intentionally drawing attention to
themselves. Standard bearers took special effort to wave their
flags in such a way as to make them easily discernible from a
distance. Jasher even had one of his soldiers hail the Gideonites,
telling them of their approach.

Jonathan saw that several armed men in the
enemy camp formed a line between two tents, and one of them, a
Gideonite captain, stared intently through a spyglass back at the
approaching group. The captain seemed puzzled. He lowered his
spyglass for a moment to speak to another soldier. That soldier
disappeared into the center of the camp, and then a horn blasted in
the air. Seconds later, men swarmed around their leader with
weapons drawn, shields at the ready. Still staring at Jasher
through the glass, the captain made some unheard comment to a
soldier on his left, and then shook his head as if he could not
believe the scene before him.

Jasher’s men closed in, the standard bearers
falling in behind. He hailed the Gideonite captain in the camp, but
the nervous soldier did not return the greeting. All forty
Gideonites in the camp stood as silent as trees.

“Greetings, Captain of the Host of Gideon. I
am Jasher of Bezek. I come in peace and wish to have a word with
you in private, if we may.”

Again, the other captain did not speak. He
stowed his spyglass, then fiddled with the pommel of his sword.

“What is your name?” Jasher asked with
authority.

“I am Izri of Bethara.” He
paused, eyes darting between colored banners. “A captain of Gideon.
I serve
faithfully
under General Rezon, according to the will of Emperor
Manasseh.”

Although directed at Jasher, Jonathan felt
the sting of Izri’s accusation. He put a hand on Pekah’s arm,
preventing him from drawing his weapon. Pekah’s face was red.

Jasher replied with an
eerie calmness in his voice, “I am a general of Gideon, and I serve
the best interests of Gideon
and
his peoples.”

Izri still did not tell his men to stand
down.

Impressed by Jasher’s approach, Jonathan
listened as the general masterfully controlled the situation.
Jasher could have just commanded the captain to submit, but
instead, the general rehearsed everything that had transpired over
the last several days. By the end of the tale, all the Gideonites
in the camp had sheathed their weapons, including Izri. Many of the
soldiers appeared eager to join with Jasher and his men. These
Gideonites stepped back toward the camp, allowing their leaders to
work out the tension felt between the two groups.

“Will you join me?” Jasher asked.

Izri still stood between two other armed
men, one of whom was also a captain. Izri acted as though he wanted
to negotiate. He tapped on his breastplate under his folded arms.
The captain next to him shifted on his feet, glancing nervously
about. All heads turned to see Amon and Sodi approach.

Amon and Sodi commanded their troops to
stand down, and most of their weapons were stowed. Sodi, still
holding his sword, marched to the front with Amon, taking a spot
next to Jasher. Jonathan made room for both of them. His interest
piqued, Jonathan watched the general. Jasher still waited for a
response from Izri.

Sodi and Izri made eye contact for the first
time, an almost imperceptible signal passing between them. Jonathan
pulled back, not able to tell what it meant. The exchange reminded
him of the encounter in Geber Pass, and his palm found the pommel
of his sword.

Jonathan looked at Amon.

“Yes, I saw it,” Amon whispered.

“Do they know each other?” Jonathan
whispered back.

“It appears so.”

Jonathan’s eyes rested back on Izri with
some suspicion. Izri’s hand was now on his weapon, but he remained
as stiff as a statue and did not look at Sodi again.

Izri’s eyes were fixed on Jasher—a cold,
empty stare, as if he were looking at the general, but not actually
seeing him. Jonathan stiffened. He gripped the hilt of his weapon,
ready to pull.

As fast as a lightning strike, Sodi swung
his weapon high into the air, and then slammed the blade down on
Jasher’s right leg. Pandemonium ensued as Jasher fell to his knee
with a yell. Amon leaped toward Sodi, his sword thrusting forward.
The sharp tip of Amon’s steel blade struck Sodi square in the
chest, splitting his leather breastplate and killing him instantly.
One of Sodi’s men took a swing at Amon, but Jonathan was able to
block the blow. He then dispatched the man with a single stroke. He
held his ground, hoping to prevent any other would-be attacker from
within Sodi’s unit.

Other men loyal to Jasher lunged forward in
an attempt to stop Izri and his soldiers, but only Izri and the two
Gideonites next to him had armed themselves. The three of them
screamed an unintelligible threat and rushed forward, trying to
fight their way to the general. Somehow Izri broke through.

Just as Izri planted the tip of his sword in
the general’s side, Izri’s head was lopped off in the wide swath of
a sword held by a nearby Danielite. The other two men were killed
before they reached the general. Fifty Gideonites, led by Captain
Mehida, surrounded Izri’s remaining men, demanding that they
surrender.

Jasher fell to the ground in agony. Pekah
and Eli both knelt at his side, fumbling with a tourniquet around
the wounded leg, while another soldier ripped green and white cloth
from a banner. Yet another soldier pressed cloth strips against the
deep wound in the gasping general’s left side. Jasher tried to sit
up, but several soldiers kept him down.

Jonathan stood near Amon
and Tavor, searching the faces of every man nearby, intent on
detecting any other imminent attacks. He still held his sword high
in the air, ready to strike any foe. Many of the men around him
stared up at his hand, their expressions confused. Tavor nudged him
and pointed to the blade. Jonathan’s heart skipped a beat when he
realized the Gideonite soldiers had now seen the Sword of
Daniel.
Too late now
, he thought.

He whispered his thanks to
Tavor, then stooped to the ground, removed the bow and quiver from
his back, and retrieved the piece of lamb’s wool from the belt
pouch that held his small glow-stone. After vigorously rubbing the
entire blade for a minute, he did the same to the small stone,
jammed
it into the pommel, tucked away the
wool, and snatched up his items.