The Chronicles of Gan: The Thorn (38 page)

“Jonathan,” Uzziel said, “Eli has something
for you, which I believe is appropriate for the occasion. Eli?”

Eli smiled, not in his usual jovial manner,
but in a way which warmed Jonathan’s very soul. The big red-headed
man rocked nervously back and forth on his feet as if unsure
whether Jonathan would like what he had brought as a gift. Jonathan
reassured him with a supportive nod, and Eli cleared his throat to
make an announcement.

“Jonathan, I had some of my men accompany me
on an errand two days ago. I rode to Hasor, and I brought something
back with me. Rachel helped me make it. It came from your
favorite.”

Jonathan was confused until Eli removed the
cloth covering. There in his hands lay a simple wreath of olive
leaves, painstakingly woven, and unadorned by anything else. Next
to it lay The Thorn. Jonathan glanced up at Eli and Rachel in
surprise. Rachel winked at him, then took the crown of leaves and
placed it on his head with a kiss.

“I love you,” she whispered as she stepped
back next to her brother.

Eli then dropped to a knee, handing the
newly anointed king the scepter of The Thorn.

Jonathan was deeply touched. He rose from
his chair and took both Eli and Rachel into his arms, kissing them
both on the cheek. He released them and wanted to say something
more about the joy he felt in his heart, but could not. Words would
not come.

A cheer of “Hosanna!” from the crowd, now on
their feet, broke the awkward silence. Again the cry came, and yet
again a third time.

Uzziel turned to face the throng again,
waving them back into their seats.

“We have another matter to attend to before
we celebrate. Those who would like to wait here until the wedding
party returns, may. Others may proceed to the pavilion in the
eastern corner of the temple garden. Rachel and Jonathan, Abigail
and Pekah, would you follow me?”

Jonathan hesitated, searching the crowd.
Finding General Amon and Captain Mehida, he motioned for them to
approach. He then removed the olive wreath from his head and handed
it to Mehida, and The Thorn to Amon.

“Would you take these for me until I return?
I don’t need them within the confines of the temple.”

Both leaders graciously accepted their
assignment. The general promised they would wait with the other
guests until the men and their brides returned to the pavilion.

Leading Rachel gently by the arm, Jonathan
followed Uzziel under the white granite archway—Pekah and Abigail,
Miriam, Uzziel, Boaz, and Eli all in tow. Small by most standards,
the size of the wedding party felt comfortable to Jonathan, and it
was just what Rachel had wanted. Jonathan agreed with her. The
sacredness of the event about to take place would be held close to
their own hearts.

All in white, they strolled across the
temple courtyard, near the font, past the thin, lingering smoke of
an early morning offering upon the Rock of Sacrifice, and up onto
the stone porch which protected the oak doors of the temple itself.
Other priests there greeted them warmly and opened the doors wide
so all could enter.

Pekah and Abigail gasped as they stepped
into the brilliantly lit foyer, suns-light streaming from
glow-stone skylights high above, and some of the finest
craftsmanship ever worked in wood, stone, or cloth before their
eyes. Although familiar to Jonathan, he remarked on the finely
woven carpeting with patterns of wheat as a border, and then on the
sculpted handrails adorning twin, spiral, marble staircases
ascending on their right and on their left. Chairs with matching
desks of cherry wood sat in the corners. Jonathan understood
Pekah’s and Abigail’s reactions.

Uzziel directed the group to remove their
sandals and shoes, then gave them a quiet moment of reflection
before leading them through another oak door. Partway down a
carpeted hall, they rounded a corner to enter a small room
decorated with nothing more than luxuriously upholstered mahogany
chairs and a short stone altar in the center of the floor. Light
poured in from above, just like in the foyer. A feeling of
reverence and holiness permeated the room.

At the altar, Jonathan and Rachel knelt
together before the High Priest of Uzzah and received at his hand
blessings of eternity. Eli and Boaz, official witnesses, looked on.
Although the ceremony was simple, the profound beauty of it
impressed Jonathan. He and Rachel both accepted the binding
covenant, then Uzziel pronounced the associated promised blessings.
As he did so, Jonathan felt the peculiar sensation of the presence
of his own parents. He recognized traits familiar to him—the wisdom
of his father, the cheerfulness of his mother.

Thrilled in the moment, he focused on
Rachel. Her eyes sparkled. As if she had heard his thoughts, she
nodded. Jonathan squeezed her hand tighter, intent on memorizing
her expression.

At Uzziel’s direction, they stood and
embraced, then held hands as they witnessed the same ceremony once
more, this time for Pekah and Abigail. Once the two of them had
made the same marital covenant, congratulatory hugs were shared by
all. Arm-in-arm, the wedding party then left the temple, walking
out into the blazing light of the sister suns. As they entered the
gardens, they were greeted by a cheering crowd, the wedding feast
already set before them.

Eager guests waited for both couples to take
seats at the heads of their tables. Eli, the guest of honor to both
couples, offered a prayer of thanks. Then the celebration began.
Food was abundant, and wine was served in moderation. There was
dancing and story telling, juggling, and short comedic skits. More
musicians than Jonathan could count performed their very best. As
the afternoon turned into evening, food appeared again.

Not long afterward, the low suns cast
shadows throughout the entire city. Glow-stone lanterns were
charged and hung all around. When the festivities started to lag,
Eli took pity on the tired newlyweds, announcing that it was time
to escort them to their accommodations for the night before the
Sabbath began. A parade of celebrants formed behind the two
couples, and Eli led the way to the home of Uzziel and Miriam.

Humble, yet sufficient, Uzziel’s home had
two spacious rooms separated by a loft within the second story, all
above the kitchen and main living space. Miriam had suggested the
arrangements to Rachel, insisting that she and Uzziel had already
planned to stay with friends for a few days. Knowing that Pekah and
Abigail would then also have a private place to spend their first
nights together, Rachel had consented.

The singing and celebrating parade stopped
at the door. Variations on blessings of peace and posterity offered
by the well-wishers drew humble appreciation from both brides.
Allowing Uzziel’s family some privacy, the crowd dispersed. Eli
offered his own private well wishes, as did Rachel’s parents, who
gave hugs of congratulation and love to all four of them. The
couples then waved to their friends and family, turning to walk
into Uzziel’s home together.

Chapter 36

Light

S
even days after the coronation and the weddings of Jonathan
and Pekah to their lovely brides, the family celebrations came to a
close. Both couples had decided they would return to Hasor after
the Sabbath. As a wedding gift, Jonathan offered Pekah and Abigail
a small family property within the village walls of Hasor. It would
be their first home together.

The newly wedded Gideonites were very
grateful for it. Between them, they did not have a possession in
the world except the funds that had been delivered to Abigail,
partial proceeds from the liquidation of Jasher’s estate. The
majority of the funds were given, at Abigail’s request, to Jasher’s
ailing mother, Dinah, for her care. Dinah had been invited to come
and live with Pekah and Abigail in Hasor, but she declined, saying
she preferred to stay in Gideon for the rest of her short days.
Abigail relented, yet promised to visit her soon.

Jonathan sat with his bride and all their
friends, enjoying one last celebratory meal before the Sabbath.
Their gathering was small—only close friends and family, all
resting under the sycamore trees behind Uzziel’s home: Tavor and
Sarah were there with the boys, Miriam’s sister Deborah, a few of
Eli’s cousins, Jeremy and Josiah of Uzzah, Abram’s widow Esther
with her boy, and Eder of Gideon, who was quickly becoming like a
member of the family.

“Where’s your father?” Jonathan asked Rachel
as he ran his fingers through her hair.

“I’m not sure. Mother?”

Miriam shook her head with slight irritation
and threw a dish cloth over her shoulder as she started grabbing up
empty platters and bowls. “A message from Boaz was delivered this
morning. Uzziel read it and left earlier than I expected. I assume
he’s at the temple, but he didn’t say how long he would be. It has
been about nine hours, and now the meal is cold—I wish he’d told
me. I just cannot seem to get it through that thick head of his
that it’s rude to be late to dinner, especially with all these
people . . .”

Miriam’s voice trailed off as she
disappeared into the house with an armload of dishes. Sarah and
Deborah followed her, bearing plates and cups needing to be washed.
Some of the guests cleared their own place settings and filed into
the house. Still finishing up with his sons, Tavor sat nearby and
fed them. Esther rested in a rocker with her own infant son asleep
in her arms.

Jonathan heard a shout.

“Uzziel!” Miriam cried.

Chatter erupted in the house. At first,
Jonathan thought they were all just excited to see Rachel’s father.
But the tone was different. There were gasps, exclamations, and
whispers. It sounded like something was wrong. Jonathan stood up as
Uzziel almost stumbled to the threshold of the back door, Miriam on
his arm. Her eyes were wide, misty. Uzziel bubbled with excitement,
saying over and over, “Come! Come, all of you!”

“Father, what’s the matter?” Rachel asked,
rising to greet him.

“Come to the patio, please. Come outside,
all of you. There you are! Eli, Jonathan. Are the others still
here?”

“What’s the matter?” Rachel again asked.

Uzziel turned around,
frantically waving to those in the house. “Just come outside. I
want to tell everybody.
Please
come!
” He stepped aside to let everyone
exit, then lead an almost-resistant Miriam out to her chair. He
asked her to sit down before taking his own seat,
gasping.

“Father, are you well?” Rachel asked.

“I’m fine. I ran from the temple. I just
need some air.” While the old high priest took a few moments to
compose himself, all patiently waited, some of them gaping.

“Is he ill?” Jonathan whispered.

Rachel shook her head. “Excited, I think. I
have no idea what got him so flustered.”

Uzziel cleared his throat and surveyed the
faces around him. “This morning I got a note. Oh, what a blessed
day!” he broke off, grinning.

“Yes, dear,” Miriam said. “We know about the
note. Where did you go?”

Uzziel looked like he was about to cry, not
the kind of tears one would have under duress or pain, but the kind
one would have when a thoughtful gift was received from a very
close friend. Miriam reached out and touched his arm.

“Dear?”

Uzziel came back from the visions that
seemed to be playing in his mind and cleared his throat again. “I
was called to the temple early. Boaz wanted to talk to me right
away. He had seen . . . he heard . . . Boaz told me everything. We
prayed together by the Rock of Sacrifice, we went into the temple,
directly to . . . and then . . . we both saw . . . I saw him myself
. . . I heard the messenger myself, with mine own two ears!”

“Uzziel,” Miriam said
tenderly. “You are not making
any
sense.”

He frowned, thanked her while patting her
hand, and then changed the direction of his telling. “I’m sorry. I
cannot describe it. Maybe another time . . . but this I can tell
you. Please listen! Please understand!”

Every soul was as quiet as a falling
feather, all gazing earnestly upon the priest. Jonathan noticed his
own excitement. Could it be? Why else would Uzziel be so
passionate? Now nervous, a lump formed in his throat.

Suddenly, Uzziel stood.
“
This is the night!
Boaz was told. I was told. I heard it with my own ears . . .
Tonight,
the sign will be
given!
” He nearly collapsed back into his
chair.

Rachel gasped. A whispered murmur flowed
through the gathering.

It’s true!
Jonathan thought.
All
these years. Nobody knew when it would be. And now, the promised
sign is at hand. In my day, I will see the sign.

Gazing around him, Jonathan saw that
everyone seemed to understand the significance of what had been
said—all except Pekah and Abigail, who exchanged blank expressions,
glancing about, as if hoping for someone to explain.

“Pekah,” Jonathan said after he smiled at
Abigail. “Do you remember the day we walked the road to Ain, the
same day that you made your covenant? We talked about the promised
King. The same who is called ‘The One Who Would Suffer’?”

Pekah’s eyes lit up with recognition. “Yes,”
he said. “You explained that the Holy King was not of this world,
and that He would not be born here on Gan, but elsewhere.”

“Yes, Pekah. And there would be a sign—a
sign in the heavens, pointing us to Him.”

Abigail placed her hand over her mouth.

“Jonathan?” she asked meekly. “Pekah taught
me about the Holy One. He is about to be born?”

“Yes. When the sign appears.”