The Journey Begun (16 page)

Seventeen

hem inspected the new leather strapping on the
Ba’al Hayam
’s sail. He grunted his satisfaction to Uri.

“It’ll still need to be stretched and the grommets lined.” The captain crossed his arms over his chest.

“Two days, maybe three.” Uri leaned down and traced a newly stitched seam. He smelled the residue of sealing resin on the tip of his finger and rubbed it with his thumb. “Three.”

“Omer is determined to make the next spring tide. Think she’ll be ready?”

The ship’s carpenter stood and scratched his neck. “Calling it close. What about a test run? The mast needs to be checked against the wind. I don’t think we can do anything about the list. Maybe it’ll correct when she gets underway.”

Shem shook his head. “Probably won’t be a sea trial. No time.”

Uri glanced at him. “You satisfied with that?”

“No choice. I pushed as far as I could, but he owns the ship.”

Uri strolled to the mast and studied the pole from its base to its tip against the pale sky. He creased his brow and massaged the surface of the iron-banded spar with both hands, as though to divine the inner strength of the fractured pole. His fingertips traced the rim of the iron reinforcement strap. Finally, he shook his head and sighed.

“Should be replaced.” He turned and looked at Shem. “The band is strong, but the mast is still weaker than she should be. We’ve got a long haul coming up, and we’ll be pressing against the storm season before we make winter port. If the winds turn, the delay could throw a storm at us. I don’t think she’ll take another rough sea. Not like the last one.”

The captain nodded but said nothing.

“I hear you plan to offset the list by cheating the cargo to port. That’s risky, especially if we have to jettison the load in a squall. Then we’re back to canting at a bad angle in stormy weather and she’ll swamp that much quicker.” He paused. “But, then, you know all this, eh?”

Shem nodded again.

Uri scratched his neck in thought. “We’re going to be loaded heavy on this one, aren’t we?”

Shem frowned. “Too heavy.”

“Taking on any passengers?”

“No. I’m having a hard enough time finding crewmembers. Passengers would just get in the way. This haul is too tricky. No passengers.”

Uri smiled. “What if Omer―”

“No passengers. You let me handle Omer.” Shem’s glance signaled the discussion was over.

The carpenter shrugged. “All right, then. My repair crew will do their part. The
Ba’al
will be ready to go when we are. The rest is up to the gods.”

“Thanks.”

“Sure.”

Lll

“Where will you look?” Hadassah pushed a parcel of food up to Elihu, already astride his horse. Benjamin stood in the doorway, back-lit by the glow of a stoked cook fire.

Elihu tucked the bundle under his cloak. “Well, Megiddo is the closest city, and Jonah knows it well. I suppose I’ll head there first. I can scout the sides of the road along the way in case he turned off somewhere. There’s no telling what he was thinking when he left.”

Benjamin cleared his throat. “What will you say to him when you do find him?”

“Good question. I’m not sure. First thing is to apologize for kicking him out of the house. After that I guess it depends on how he responds and what he says he’s going to do from there.”

Hadassah squeezed her brother’s arm. “Be sure to tell him he’s welcome back here anytime, won’t you?”

“Of course. You know I will.” He smiled at her and took up the reins, steadying his restless mount. “I don’t know where I’ll spend tonight. I’ll try to come back before I need to head to Samaria, but I can’t promise anything.”

Hadassah nodded. “Be careful, will you?”

Elihu winked at his sister and threw a quick wave at Benjamin before reining back and turning up the path toward the road. The soldier reached the head of the path as the morning sun bulged beneath the eastern horizon, promising the valley another glorious sunrise.” He peered up the road toward Gath-hepher once more before turning his horse the opposite direction. A click of his tongue spurred the powerful steed down the valley road toward the Kishon bridge.

Lll

Jonah hunched against the sharp air as he plodded through the early morning shadows in the commercial district. He draped his hood low over his brow and averted his eyes from the merchants just now stirring in preparation for another day’s business. He imagined them eyeing with suspicion this stranger emerging from the low quarter where no one of good repute would venture. How odd it was to be the object of looks he himself had cast on others. Emotionally and physically soiled from the night, he steeled himself against its memory.

He paused when he reached the road skirting the rear of Solomon’s stables. The city gate loomed across the broad threshold of the road leading to the valley. The soldiers should be opening the massive barriers to a new day’s commerce even now.
What do I do from here?

He had to think.

Eighteen

brilliant aura of sunlight crowned Mount Gilboa as Elihu approached the Kishon River. The morning’s infant heat began to mellow the chill that had stung his face since he departed the vineyards. In the crystal-clear dawn, Elihu leaned forward and surveyed a patch of meadow by the banks of the deep river coursing silently beneath the bridge. He remembered this as the spot where Jonah’s angel had deposited the newly commissioned prophet on his journey to the royal court in Samaria. The stoic veteran smiled in spite of himself at the memory of his friend luring him into a sense of awe at the holiness of this spot—then poking him in the arm. He relived the surge of adrenalin shooting up his spine and forcing erect the hairs on his neck. What a journey that had been! His smile faded as he compared that quest to his present one.

As if on cue, the yellow ball burst over the eastern ridge as his horse’s hooves touched the threshold of the stone bridge. Squinting into the new day, Elihu frowned at the city crowning the hill to the south. He wiped his sleeve across eyes already fatigued from scouring the shadowed roadside. It made sense to start at Megiddo, he supposed, as it seemed to be a logical place for Jonah to pass the night. The question was where to look first.

It was too early for the marketplace vendors to be open whom he could question for recent news of Jonah’s whereabouts. Perhaps the innkeeper could help. Yes, he would start with Hosea. If there was no news at the inn, then who knew? Elihu’s shoulders sagged with the heaviness of his heart and the realization of how daunting this task was. Jonah could be anywhere in the great valley. Anywhere.

Lll

The sun crested the horizon and found Jonah leaning against the wall of a counting house in the business district, deep in indecision. The sudden glare snapped his head up and pressed his back against the wall. He shielded his eyes and slipped around the corner into the side shadow of the building. He didn’t notice it getting lighter and the abrupt onslaught of sunlight sparked a new sense of vulnerability that nearly disabled him. Jonah glanced around to see if anyone noticed him huddled in the waning shadows, cringing from the beauty of a perfect morning that three days ago would have found him rejoicing at the glory of a new day. There was no one.

The city gates lay just around the corner of the stable complex. The second watch had come on duty, and they were busy removing the locking bar of the inner gate. Jonah pondered what he would do once he was outside the city. He hadn’t planned out his trek, and spontaneity was never a close friend of his. The previous evening’s debacle proved that fact, and it was clear he would have to be more careful, whichever way he went. Still, he had to move. A vague old adage about steering a standing donkey dared an attempt to enter his mind, but he quickly crushed it.

Shaking the residual dullness from his head, Jonah took a deep breath and leaned away from the stone wall. Stepping out into the sunshine, he took one more furtive glance around and set off toward the city gate.

Lll

Elihu paused at the turnoff to the inclined road leading to the city. He took another hard look down the valley, then urged his mount up the road toward the gate complex. He was the first traveler to approach the city that morning, although he had spotted a heavily laden merchant’s cart trundling up the river road as he crossed the bridge. The inn should be open by now for breakfast. That’s where he’d start.

The warrior’s mind wandered as he allowed his steed to take the slope at his own pace. His sister’s words echoed in his ears, lading him with guilt. It pained him how quickly he had turned on his lifelong friend. True, his entire adult life had been spent in defense of Israel’s land and her honor, and to that end some resentment at Jonah’s attitude was justified. But a man’s loyalty was big enough to accommodate both a friend and a nation. It was also true that Israel’s army would march into Nineveh if the God of Abraham willed it, whether Jonah cooperated or not. His comrade’s drawn face loomed back into view as he recalled the moments of silence when they locked eyes the evening before. A man of lesser conviction would never have held Elihu’s stare as long as Jonah did. Why was he being so hardheaded? The battle in the Jezreel Valley was ages ago. Why couldn’t he just let it go?

Elihu creased his brow as he approached the outermost gate. The first two gates stood wide open, the morning sentries securing them in place. The third gate, however, was still closed. He frowned. The city should be accessible by now.

Elihu reined in as he reached the first of the guards. “What’s the holdup? Why are the gates still closed?”

The sentry glanced up in annoyance, but then jerked his head as he recognized the flash on the halter strap identifying the rider as a senior army commander. “Accident on the third gate. Cross beam slipped and pinned somebody’s hand in the bar rest. They’re still trying to get him loose. Probably lose the hand, though.” The sentry shrugged and shifted his feet.

Elihu frowned at the barrier. Muffled curses rose over the gate
as the injured guard’s comrades struggled to free his pinned arm
[B26]
 
.

“How long have they been at it?”

“Not long. You can use the stairway entrance if you’re in a hurry, but you’ll have to go back down the road and around to the west side. Horse’ll be a tough fit, but he might squeeze through.”

Elihu weighed the option, then shook his head. “No. I’ll wait.”

Lll

Jonah skirted the end of the stables and quickened his pace toward the gate. The tall double door hung only half open, which was odd.
Why haven’t they opened the gates yet?
Men’s shouts echoing through the passageway met him as he approached the immense stone structure. Jittery nerves pushed him back to the wall, where he shivered against the pitted masonry still chilled from the previous night. He started as a soldier raced past, cradling a rough wooden plank in his arms. Regaining control of his breath, Jonah leaned away from the wall and edged closer to the gate. He peered around the corner and recoiled. Two sentries struggled to free a third soldier’s arm pinned under the heavy oak cross beam. A dark stain spreading beneath the lock bar fed a growing splotch of scarlet on the pavement. The fourth soldier wedged his plank under the cross-beam in a clumsy attempt to pry it off his comrade’s crushed limb.

“No, push
down!
Get some leverage under it.”

“I
can’t!
It won’t move!”

“It’s not
that
heavy!”

“Well,
you
do it then!”

A shriek from the injured soldier cut the conversation. Jonah cringed and pulled back around the corner. He leaned against the wall and groped in his mind for his next move. A surge of panic pricked his forehead at the realization that people would soon begin congregating at the city gate, those who had business in the valley and others who might be drawn by the commotion. A glance up the street toward the marketplace confirmed his fear. Two donkey carts were already halfway to the gate from the turn in the road leading to the market square. Both drivers cocked their heads at the guards’ shouts. A few travelers straggling behind on foot also had their interest piqued when the hapless guard’s shriek pierced the morning air.

Jonah was at a loss. There was some safety in the anonymity a crowd offered if it were large enough. He could slip into step with the rest of the travelers as he had with the Danites the evening before. When he reached the valley floor, he could peel away from the crowd to follow his own path. On the other hand, it was still true that his was a well-known face among Megiddo’s merchants and he could be recognized. In fact, did he just imagine that the driver of the lead donkey cart looked familiar?

Indecision ground time to a halt. The risk of being recognized battled the comfort of obscurity, immobilizing him. He could throw his hood over his head and shuffle into the crowd, but the morning’s warmth encouraged shedding cloaks, not huddling in them. Such a posture would make him even more noticeable.

While the dithering prophet wrestled with his next move, the two donkey carts pulled up at the first gate and the foot traffic following began to cluster around them. Attracted by the spectacle, no one took immediate notice of him.

“What’s going on?”

“Why isn’t the gate open?”

“Who’s that, screaming?”

A hoarse cough a few paces away made Jonah’s decision for him. His head snapped up and his eyes froze on Moshe’s stooped figure. The old soldier, limping out to welcome the morning on his customary stone bench alongside the road, squinted and cocked his head, trying to decipher the chorus of shouts pouring through the half-opened gateway. The side of the old soldier’s grizzled face shone red and raw from its collision with the pavement outside the tavern.

Jonah was sure Moshe would spot him at any moment. He threw a wild look over his shoulder toward the stable complex. A sudden move would surely give him away. But there was no choice.

Lll

Moshe sneezed. Raising his sleeve to wipe his nose, a flicker of movement jerked his face toward the wall.

There was no one there.

The veteran frowned and craned his neck to glance over his shoulder, but there was nothing but bright sunlight on the stone wall. He snorted, spat on the pavement, and turned his attention back to the disturbance at the city gate.

Jonah leaned against the wall to calm his breathing and settle the pounding in his chest. He fought the urge to peer around the corner to see if Moshe had noticed him. There was no challenge, and after a few moments he glanced back. All he could see were three stragglers at the back of the crowd still bending their necks to see what all the fuss was about. He surveyed the road back toward the city center and was relieved to see a lull in the stream of people bound for the gate.

There was no going back. His only option was the western pedestrian gate. Hunching his shoulders, Jonah ducked across the road and hurried away.

Lll

Elihu leaned forward on his mount at the sound of the inner gate grinding on its hinges. As the sentries secured it against the walls of the passageway, two soldiers dragged a kicking figure to the side of the road. Blood smeared the paving stones and a thin streak of scarlet traced a jagged line between the puddle and the soldier writhing against the wall.

“Pretty sure he’ll lose that arm,” the outer sentry repeated, glancing back up at Elihu.

The veteran nodded and frowned at the vain attempts of the soldiers to comfort their comrade. As the first surge of traffic passed through the open gate, he nudged his horse to the side of the road. Two donkey carts and several travelers on foot gawked at the squirming guard as they passed. Only one man scraping along with the help of a thick staff did not avert his eyes from the road. Elihu recognized the rounded posture and stiff limp.