The Chronicles of Gan: The Thorn (7 page)

Eli cleared his throat. “We were surprised
to find a fresh mass grave to the west of the village, still being
filled by a group of Danielites and their captors. Not far off, a
group of about forty Gideonites were camped in the hollow there by
the vineyards. About ten of them rushed up to us as soon as we were
seen, and knowing we were outnumbered, we surrendered. We were
harshly questioned, and when they figured out that I was the leader
of my band of warriors, they separated us. My nine were added to
the main group of remaining Danielites and marched down the road
towards Saron. I had the pleasure of traveling the forest trails
toward Ain in company of the rogues you caught me with earlier this
evening. The captain told Pekah and the others it would be a faster
route.” Eli grinned and spat on the ground in defiance. “Once
again, you have gotten me out of a bad one,” he said with a
laugh.

Jonathan didn’t laugh, but he did return the
smile. “It’s so good to see you, Eli. Thank you again for giving my
father a dignified burial. It was I who left him on the floor of
the Council Hall. I hated to do it, but I was in a hurry to
escape.”

With hand gestures for emphasis, Jonathan
proceeded to tell Eli about hiding in the barn, hearing the
commotion in the village, and returning to the hall where he found
his father. He also mentioned the noise which had startled him, and
his retrieval of The Thorn. Jonathan patted his chest.

“Eli, I got it, and then literally ran out
the door.”

“I’m glad you did,” Eli said as he glanced
back toward the camp. Jonathan also leaned to see the dim outline
of Pekah sitting by the fire.

Jonathan ended his account by describing the
long day in their secret cave. The two of them laughed a little as
they reminisced together about the many items they had hidden there
long ago as boys. But again their moods became somber, and they
both grew quiet as their gazes rested on the moons-lit ground.

Eli lifted his head and pointed at the
campfire. “What are we going to do with him?”

“I don’t know. He seems to have a good
heart. If we can convince him to join the side of peace, he may be
able to soften the hearts of others. What do you think?”

“You may be right. Although we all expected
this war, I would very much prefer that it end quickly, and he may
be able to help.”

Jonathan tapped his sword pommel with his
hand, anxious to do whatever was necessary to stop Gideon. Numerous
possible outcomes crossed his mind in mere seconds, but then he
threw a startled expression in Eli’s direction.

“What has become of your sister?” Jonathan
asked. “Last I knew, Rachel had been in Saron. Did she make it home
safely?”

Eli’s jaw stiffened with anger. He shook his
head, and Jonathan instantly felt ill.

“But I don’t know for sure,” Eli added, his
tone grave. “To my knowledge, Rachel was still at market with the
family steward, selling our spring lambs, when Saron was surprised
by the Gideonites. If she left early enough, she might have made it
home to Ramathaim before they attacked. I just fear she did not.
When we left the city, we did not see anyone coming north from
Hasor. She should have been back by that time.”

Jonathan saw deep emotion like a kindled
fire burning in Eli’s eyes. “If she did not make it out of Saron,
where do you think she is?”

“She may be at Ain. Our scouts confirmed
there was a significant movement of people from Saron towards Ain
the day before yesterday. They reported to have seen several
columns of prisoner escorts. But then again, she may have been . .
. the Gideonites . . .” Eli shuddered.

At Eli’s unspoken suggestion, Jonathan
remembered the dishonorable things some Gideonite captains had done
with female prisoners in the past. He could not bring himself even
to complete the thought. Jonathan fought the images away and
mustered his courage.

“Eli, don’t fear the worst. Let us have
faith she has been protected.”

Eli grumbled. “I suppose you’re right. But
you know as well as I do, the Gideonites do not always treat women
with honor or respect. Some of them have forgotten the ways taught
by Father Noah and treat women as if they were mere property.”

Jonathan bristled at the thought. His father
Samuel had taught him to honor women as God’s finest creation, and
that attitude prevailed amongst his own people. Jonathan loved
Rachel dearly, and the thought of Gideonite soldiers harming her
made his blood boil. Rachel had been promised to him, and even
though she was not yet his lawful wife, Jonathan felt protective of
her.

“Well,” Jonathan spat out, “at least we’re
traveling in the right direction. I think we can easily reach Ain
within two days. It’s my intention to find out what’s going on in
that fair city.”

Eli patted Jonathan on the arm. “I feel the
same way, my brother. If she’s there, we will find her.”

The two friends made their way back to the
campfire and found Pekah sharpening the dagger he had taken from
the Gideonite captain. He glanced up as they approached, but then
returned to his work. As Jonathan and Eli removed their weapons and
found themselves seats near the fire, Pekah stopped his sharpening
and sheathed the dagger.

“Nate, can you tell me about the sword you
carry? I have never seen anything like it.”

It seemed to be a harmless question.
Jonathan took up the sword that lay next to him on the ground,
pulled it from the sheath, and turned it in his hands, causing
reflections from the campfire to bounce above them in the trees.
Pekah gaped in wonder at the lights and leaned forward to see the
narrow, thin, faceted blade.

“It is merely a glow-stone, albeit a special
one,” Jonathan said. “This nearly perfect crystal was found by my
grandfather in the mines near Hasor, crafted into a sword, and
presented as a gift to my father.”

Jonathan stopped short of telling the whole
story. To do so would reveal his identity. The Sword of Daniel had
actually been given to his father as a coronation gift on the same
day Samuel married. He chose to keep those facts to himself.

“How was it made?” Pekah said.

“The crystal is the longest one ever found
in the Hasor mines. I don’t think there has ever been another like
it. My father told me the raw stone was without flaw except at the
ends. The swordsmith who made the weapon could only cut or groove
it near the blemishes in the stone, and so he removed one flaw by
striking it from the end of the crystal, thus producing the faceted
tip. He grooved out the flaw at the opposite end with special tools
made from other stones. After he added the brass cross-guard, he
used some type of silver alloy to form the hilt and pommel, all of
which he anchored to the grooved area of the crystal. I added the
leather strapping around the hilt to make the sword easier to
control.

“The sword-smith also left the pommel hollow
to accommodate a small glow-stone for lighting purposes,” Jonathan
added as he took the stone from his belt pouch and rubbed it
vigorously to charge it. He snapped it into place, and they all
watched as the entire sword took on a soft, blue glow.

Pekah’s brow furrowed. “How is it that the
blade does not break? Any crystal, when struck with the amount of
force which you used today against our swords, should shatter, no
matter how perfect it is.”

Jonathan smiled. He leaned forward, locking
gazes with Pekah, and stated with a wry smile, “I don’t know.”

The answer was honest, but
not complete. Although Jonathan didn’t understand
how
the blade remained
whole, he did suspect
why
. Only a few close friends
outside of his immediate family knew that his grandfather had been
led to the location of the raw crystal by a dream of the night—a
dream in which Father Noah himself had delivered a message of
promise. Much like The Thorn, Noah promised that a sword crafted
from the unique crystal would be claimed by the Holy One at His
coming—a symbol of His kingship, a sword that shone like the blue
fire of sister suns, a sword of light.

The Gideonites all knew about the scepter
because their father, Gideon, was there when it was fashioned. But
none knew about the sword. And under the present circumstances,
Jonathan did not feel impressed to share the story of the dream
with Pekah, or the prophecy given to his grandfather. After all,
the Gideonites already sought the scepter.

Jonathan hadn’t intended to be so
mysterious. But he almost chuckled as he noticed Eli thoroughly
enjoying the puzzled frown on Pekah’s face. Eli clasped his large
hands behind his head and leaned back against a log, grinning
widely.

Fortunately, Pekah asked no more questions.
The conversation lagged, and Pekah again grew quiet. Ready to
change the subject, Jonathan removed the small stone from the
pommel, sheathed the sword, and suggested that they discuss their
plans for the next day. Eli agreed.

“Tomorrow is the Sabbath,” Jonathan began.
“I would rather not travel on the Sabbath. We’ll need our rest for
the days ahead, and so I plan to stay here through the daylight
hours of tomorrow. We can leave before dusk in the evening, and
then travel under cover of darkness with the face of the moons as
far as we can.”

“It’s true,” added Eli. “Tomorrow will be
the crossing of the sisters, and under their face, travel will be
easy enough, if the weather holds.”

“But where will we be going?” Pekah
interjected, staring at Jonathan.

“We believe a large body of prisoners was
taken from Hasor,” Jonathan said. “It’s possible they’re traveling
toward Ain by way of Saron. If so, it’s my intention to find them
and free them, if I can.”

Jonathan watched Pekah’s fire-lit face for a
reaction. With the news Jonathan had received from Eli, he knew
Pekah was aware of the prisoners taken at Hasor, and he wanted to
see how this Gideonite felt about their plan to find them. Pekah’s
countenance indeed had changed, but Jonathan could not tell if fear
or some other emotion affected the Gideonite.

Sensing Pekah’s great unrest, he spoke with
soft tones. “I want you to know, I have accepted your oath to me.
You swore you will follow me and serve me until the end of your
life. I will do all I can to ensure your life will be long, and
that you will be happy, if you seek happiness.”

“Pekah,” Eli said. “Nate is a man of honor.
His promise will be kept.”

“Thank you, Eli,” Jonathan said.

Pekah merely blinked as he stared into the
campfire embers.

Still curious as to what Pekah’s thoughts
were, Jonathan spoke again. “Can you tell me what you know about
the fall of Hasor?”

Pekah remained silent. He fiddled with his
boot straps as he continued to stare into the coals. Jonathan did
not press him, but waited on his answer with hope that he would
choose to talk about it. He looked towards the fire himself,
wishing he could in some way make this awkward discussion about
their plans bearable for both of them.

After a short time, Pekah spoke in a low
voice. “I’ve seen things I do not wish to remember.”

Eli cleared his throat, but did not
comment.

Jonathan let out a soft sigh. He said a
silent prayer for help with their conversation, remaining calm and
attentive until the impression came with words to fill his
mouth.

“Pekah, there is One who can heal all
things. Do you know of Whom I speak?”

Pekah nodded.

“No matter what has
happened in your life, no matter what things you saw at Hasor, no
matter what troubles you, if you turn to the Great King . . .”
Jonathan’s voice became softer. “Turn to Him with all your heart,
and pour your soul out to Him in prayer, even if it is by simply
expressing the thoughts and the desires which are in your heart.
He
will
hear you.
He is the Great Healer, and He can remove many burdens.”

Immense hope, and a love for the young
Gideonite man, started to fill Jonathan’s heart. He also noticed
that he had been particularly impressed to use the title of “Great
King,” but didn’t know why. Pekah still did not reply. His eyes
glistened, and he turned from the fire to stare out into the
darkness of the trees near the stream.

Jonathan did not feel inclined to talk
further, and so after some awkward silence, he suggested they all
get some rest. Now past midnight, morning would be upon them before
they would want it to be. Eli asked if they should have a constant
watch through the night, but Jonathan felt that with the cover of
the thorny grove, and the sound of the stream behind them, they
would pass the night without being discovered.

None of them had bed rolls, so they
fashioned small pillows from sacks and cloaks. By this time, most
of the flame was low and red. Eli placed the large log onto the
fire to keep it burning.

Jonathan and Eli both knelt on the ground
with bowed heads. They invited Pekah to join them in prayer, but he
declined. After an expression of gratitude for a clear summer night
with no rain, both men wished Pekah a good night’s sleep before
drifting off.

* * *

Pekah watched them doze as he lay there,
feeling depressed and out of place with these two men. He gazed up
at the stars, not focusing on anything in particular. He tried to
relax, but the events of the previous three days kept crossing his
mind. Closing his eyes, he tried to sleep, but sleep would not
come. The hard ground made him uncomfortable, and the more he tried
to rest, the worse he felt. He groaned and realized much of the
discomfort he felt was because of the guilt in his heart. He wished
he had never enlisted in the emperor’s army. He wished he had never
been in Hasor. He almost wished he were dead.