The Chronicles of Gan: The Thorn (16 page)

Pekah glanced sideways at Eli. The surprise
on Eli’s face reminded Pekah that he had not told either Eli or
Jonathan about Rezon’s march north. He wondered if Eli knew
anything about the Gideonite general’s character. Well aware of
Rezon’s pride and arrogance, he was certain General Rezon would not
leave Ramathaim without conquering the city.

“Soldier, finish your tale,” demanded the
general.

Pekah straightened. “Our plans to join Rezon
did not materialize. The following morning while breaking camp, we
were approached by a small band of Uzzahite warriors, one of which
is here. His name is Eli. Captain Sachar told the troop that our
orders had changed. We marched toward Ain by way of the forest
trails.”

Recognition lit the well-fed captain’s face.
He spoke loudly, making the walls of the portable throne room
quiver. “My king,” he said, pointing to Eli, “This man’s
accompanying warriors are imprisoned in this city. I saw them
arrive just last evening with a contingent from Hasor, which had
traveled without rest for two days and nights. They traveled by way
of Saron and the Geber Pass. When they arrived, I learned that the
small band of Uzzahites with them had been deprived of their leader
by Captain Sachar.”

“But
why
did Captain Sachar separate from
the rest of the army?” the general asked, his tone
harsh.

“I do not know, sir,” Pekah answered.

“Where is the captain?”

Suddenly feeling defensive, Pekah felt beads
of sweat form on his forehead. He studied the silent emperor, whose
face puckered with anger. Manasseh waved his hand for Pekah to
continue.

“Eli was taken as a prisoner by my band,
under Captain Sachar’s direction. We marched south on the same
forest trail used to approach Hasor, with the intention of turning
west to bring him here. But as we marched, we were attacked.”

“Who attacked you?” asked the general.

“We did not know who he was, but he was a
Danielite. He demanded we release our prisoner, but Captain Sachar
did not see the need to surrender, as the Danielite man was alone.
The captain gave the command to attack him, but the battle did not
go as planned.”

“What do you mean, ‘not as planned’?” the
short Gideonite leader interjected.

“The lone Danielite killed every one of our
troop, including Captain Sachar, single-handedly. He only spared my
life because I surrendered.”

Now irritated, the general took a step
closer to Pekah. He put his fists on his hips and demanded to know
where the Danielite was.

“He’s not here,” Pekah said, a milder tone
in his voice. “But we did travel with him for two days. During that
time, we discussed many things, and I considered both what had
happened at Hasor and what I would report when I got here.”

Pekah paused, staring down at the ground to
gather his thoughts. “My emperor—I wish to tell you of a dream I
had, but before I do, I must tell you more about this Danielite.
His name is Jonathan. He is the son of the chief judge and heir to
the throne of Daniel.”

The emperor did not speak,
but a wry smile formed on his face. His baleful expression unnerved
Pekah. Shifting on his feet, Pekah avoided Manasseh’s piercing
gaze.
Help me
, he
prayed. Gathering his strength, the young Gideonite soldier rose a
bit taller, confident.

“Oh, Emperor, he taught me much in these two
days. I have come to realize that perhaps I have been wrong about
many things . . . things I remember being taught from the
beginnings of childhood, and reinforced when I entered the service
of my king. During the last two days, I have learned that this
Danielite is a good man—a man of integrity and honor. His only
desire is for this war to end, and for there to be peace in the
lands once again. He wishes to purchase your favor, my king, and
this is why we have come with supplies and news of the war.”

Pekah ignored the scowl on Manasseh’s face
and took a breath. “The night before last, I had a dream about
standing in this very room. I saw you here, my emperor, with these
two men. I told Samuel’s son, Jonathan, about this dream, and he
told me to come here today. I have brought you a gift from the
Danielite himself. He waits outside the city walls, and he has
asked that I buy the release of the prisoners in the city. He asks
that you sit with him to negotiate a lasting peace.”

The general stepped back to where he first
stood and seemed to be somewhat appeased, perhaps even impressed,
by Pekah’s bold response. But the other man had a strange look on
his face, almost as if he were in a trance.

Manasseh, on the other hand, did not appear
to be amused. He pulled a dagger from somewhere in his garments,
pointed it at Pekah for emphasis, and said, with hints of vitriol
in his voice, “What did you bring me?”

Eli nudged Pekah and encouraged him to show
the scepter. He then whispered into Pekah’s ear, “Holiness, Honor,
Humility.”

The dream. This is my dream.

Pekah could feel himself turn as white as
snow. His knees weakened, and he dizzied as if he would faint. He
gaped at Eli, whose facial expression was concerned, yet
supportive.

Pekah shifted on his feet, and with
trembling hands, reached for the leather bag around his shoulder.
He pulled open the drawstring and retrieved the purple cloth.
Slowly unrolling it, he exposed the beautiful glass rod to the
light of the many candles in the room. The scepter glistened.

The emperor stood in surprise, recognizing
what Pekah held in his hands. He took a step forward, but stopped
as Pekah spoke.

“Emperor Manasseh, will you trade the
prisoners of Daniel and Uzzah for the scepter?”

Manasseh shook his head immediately. “I will
not give you the prisoners. This trinket will not buy their freedom
or end this war.”

Pekah’s countenance fell, and Eli
stiffened.

“This war will continue,” the emperor almost
shouted, “until all of Daniel is destroyed and Uzzah is made to
serve Gideon forever.”

Manasseh stood in pure malevolence, his face
hard, his eyes cold.

Both Eli and Pekah recoiled from the evil
threat. Eli glanced about, as if looking for an escape.

Pekah shocked himself with a forceful and
defiant response. “Then you cannot have it!” he cried. “Jonathan,
Samuel’s son, sent me to trade this for prisoners. If you do not
release them, you cannot have The Thorn!”

For some reason, the general and the captain
did not move or speak. They stood as if they had been shackled to
the floor and rendered mute.

Anger and hatred seethed from Manasseh’s
face. He was a volcano, ready to spew hot, searing lava into the
air. His presence seemed to grow in the room, and the darkness he
carried made Pekah flinch. At the moment Manasseh appeared ready to
burst, with great intensity he commanded his men, “Kill them! Kill
them, and bring me the scepter!”

The Gideonite leaders still did not move.
They stared at each other, and then, almost as if they were
offended by the emperor’s request, they regarded him without any
expression whatsoever.

This made Manasseh rage. He shrieked as if
stung by a wasp and ran forward with dagger flashing. Unable to
react, Pekah stood motionless, his arm still outstretched, the
scepter between himself and the furious man. Time seemed to slow,
and the steps taken by Manasseh were easily counted.

Eli started to move as if to protect his
unarmed friend, but there came a terrible noise like a great,
rushing gust of wind. It was as if an unseen tornado had entered
the room—unfelt, yet undeniably heard in its roaring intensity. Eli
froze. The wind, or unseen power, penetrated Pekah’s body and
caused his heart to burn with fervent heat.

Coinciding with that instant, a light, as
bright as the lights of Azure and Aqua at mid-day, cut through the
paneled roof above them and flooded the chamber with energy and
brilliance. It touched Pekah, then sprang forward, coming to rest
in the glass rod of The Thorn. Heavenly fire—which did not
burn—burst from the scepter at every angle and shamed the candle
lights into oblivion.

Manasseh stopped short, his eyes wide and
fearful. The light from the scepter blinded him. Then, as if with
the force of a battering ram, a direct beam shot from The Thorn,
knocking the emperor back into his throne. The rushing wind became
tangibly real. It tore the roof and all four walls of the portable
stateroom into small beams, sticks, and splinters, scattering the
pieces into the air like winnowed chaff. Only the paneled floor,
chairs, and candelabrum remained intact.

The walls now gone, Pekah watched in
amazement as soldiers from all around the destroyed building
scattered like frightened sheep, running for their lives. Chunks of
riven wood, brass pegs, cloth, and broken beams rained from the
sky. The explosive sound reverberated in the plaza and shook the
ground.

With arms up to protect their faces, the
general and the captain fell to the floor of the stateroom. Eli’s
red hair was in disarray, and Pekah’s dark hair was blown
backwards, but both men remained standing, entirely unharmed.

Manasseh slumped dead in his throne, the
dagger he still clutched in his hand resting upon his lap.

Light still flickered in The Thorn.

Chapter 14

Rachel

R
ising from his knees, Jonathan moved to sit upon a
round-topped boulder and stare out into the valley, a prayer still
in his heart. The crisp morning air nipped at him, so he held his
arms close to his chest, warding off another shiver. Just above the
western peaks which bordered the city far below him, Aqua and Azure
burned bright in the sky. He closed his eyes and tilted his head
back, exposing his neck to their warmth.

Please protect
Rachel
, he prayed.
Strengthen my friends
.

Jonathan sighed. Waiting, especially with
nothing to do but brood, grated at his patience. He opened his eyes
and played with a pebble. Nearby, a squirrel chattered, darting
from rock to rock, but keeping its distance. When it reached a bush
not far from where he sat, it pawed through a pile of sticks,
popped something into its mouth, and then raced toward a tree.
Jonathan snorted.

“Your life is easy, my little friend.”

He tossed the pebble into the bush where the
squirrel had been, and reached for his sack. Finding the last chunk
of dried meat, he bit off a corner and held up the rest, hoping the
squirrel would see.

“Thank you for showing me your stash of
nuts, but I brought my own food.”

The salt tasted good to him, so he chewed
slowly, savoring it. Well-lit by suns-light, Ain shone like a
jewel, its stone walls and buildings almost white amidst a sea of
orchards and field-covered hills. Too far away to make out details
without his looking-glass, he thought about retrieving it from his
pile of belongings, but didn’t feel like moving.

Like a deep rumble from a landslide, the
ground shook beneath him. Startled, he leaped to his feet and
surveyed his surroundings, but found nothing amiss. As the sound
intensified, he realized it was coming from the direction of the
city. He shielded his eyes from the suns and stared out into the
valley. At that moment, a fierce blast of light flashed over the
center of Ain. Before Jonathan could even gasp, the brilliant
display ended. And then it was quiet.

How long he stood there, his jaw slack and
eyes wide, he did not know. Still, the city was silent. Eventually
he tired of standing. Finding his seat upon the boulder once again,
he watched.

* * *

The general rose cautiously, keeping his
eyes fixed on Pekah.

Pekah recovered from his shock. He hastened
to wrap the scepter, placing it back into the leather bag about his
neck.

“Are you all right?” Eli said as he grabbed
Pekah’s arm.

“Yes, I think so. Are you?”

Eli nodded.

Pekah rubbed his eyes and ran his hands
through his tousled black hair. He blinked several times, then
focused on the general, who was helping the captain up from where
he had fallen. Fearing they were still in danger, Pekah retreated a
few steps, and Eli joined him.

The Gideonite soldiers did not approach
them, but stood surveying their new surroundings, undoubtedly
shocked to see the walls and roof of the portable stateroom now
missing. Like a cosmic crater, the wooden floor of the platform had
become a central depression amidst large mounds of rubble, randomly
arranged in an almost circular fashion. Just outside the rim of
broken beams, cloth, and metal, several of the tents closest to the
scene had been toppled by falling debris.

Near the ruined tents, a few soldiers milled
about, some of them armed, and others not. The soldiers gazed in
earnest at the general, waiting for a command to act. Behind those
who had gathered, the plaza fount still splashed, although the
water basin and the pool below the pedestals had several items
floating in them.

The general walked cautiously over to the
throne. He checked the emperor for signs of life. He sighed and
then turned to Pekah and Eli. “He’s dead,” he declared, his voice
uneven.

They glanced at each other without a
word.

The general shook his
head, but then curiously scrunching his face, asked, “Did you say
you had a dream . . . about
this
?”

Certain that Eli wouldn’t want him to say
anything that would further jeopardize their situation, Pekah
didn’t answer, even though the general’s countenance had softened.
The sound of metal on metal caught his attention, and he looked up
to witness the stout captain sheathing his weapon. This put him
further at ease, but he still didn’t know how to respond.