United
A s the company dispersed in order to prepare for their departure, Jonathan, Eli, and Pekah stayed behind with those digging the graves for the executed men. Jonathan watched in silence for a few minutes before asking Eli and Pekah to come with him. “Before we leave for Ramathaim, I want to visit the gardens of Hasor.”
A lump in his throat, Jonathan squared his shoulders and started around the village wall in the direction of the gardens. The smooth flagstone path hugging the wall made their way easy. Rounding the southwest corner of the stone wall, Jonathan could now see the olive groves, vineyards, and vegetable gardens nestled between the guard towers.
He glanced up at the southwest tower platform above him as they entered the gardens, remembering his escape in the dark. It seemed like a long time ago. His boots now clicking on the cobblestone path, he fought to control his emotions. When the olive grove came into view, he looked at Eli. Eli’s nod confirmed the place. Walking the rest of the way into the grove, Jonathan left the path and passed trees with numerous grafts, many of their branches looking like the tail of a porcupine. Ducking under one limb as he went, he touched the coarse bark as he passed, remembering that he had worked with his father on that very tree the previous fall.
Avoiding another branch, Jonathan noticed that Eli and Pekah were no longer behind him.
He did not need to be led to the burial site of his father, a spot intimately familiar to him. This had been his and Samuel’s favorite olive tree-tall, full, grand. No other tree in the garden was as impressive. Although olive trees were somewhat rare for this part of Gan, trade winds from the East Ocean blew sufficiently inland to moderate the climate around Hasor. This transplanted tree had prospered. With nearly perfect symmetry, it looked more like an aging oak displaced from the nearby forests than an olive tree.
As Jonathan drew near to the east side of its massive trunk, he found the mound of backfill from a recently dug grave several paces away. He removed his sword, bow, and quiver, and then knelt at the edge of the mound. Fists resting on the ground, he poured out his soul in prayer. At first he could only think of the scene within the Council Hall-the glow of his sword, the vandalized book shelves and debris piles, and his father clothed in blood-stained robes. But with everything that had changed in the past few days, his thoughts refocused on the miraculous turn of events since he had met Pekah.
Instead of pleading for comfort, he gave thanks. He reviewed each of the miracles he had witnessed, and conversed with his God and King as if He were there beside him. As he did so, he realized that being driven from Hasor had been a great blessing. His father’s sacrifice had been turned to good. As he prayed, he felt certain that Samuel was a guiding participant in all of it.
Unaware of how much time had passed, Jonathan once again became cognizant of his surroundings. He wiped tears from his cheeks with the back of his hand and then ran his fingers through the soft dirt, churning the soil in his hands before dropping it and retrieving more. He looked for Eli and Pekah, but they still held back to give him some privacy. They were silent.
Jonathan patted the dirt firm, then grabbed his belongings and turned to rejoin his friends. His eyes were bleary, but surprisingly, he found the strength to put a smile on his face.
“Are you going to be all right?” Eli asked.
Jonathan thought for a moment, and nodded. “Yes. I’m fine. Do you mind if we go into the Council Hall for a few minutes before joining Amon in the courtyard?”
“We have enough time,” Eli said. “But why?”
“You shall see.”
They left the gardens to enter the village by way of the south gates, broken down by the invading army of Gideon just days before. Following the cobbled roads that led to the temple and Council Hall, the three men passed the barn where Jonathan had hidden during the siege. Arriving at the Council Hall, they found that Amon was nearly ready to depart. Jonathan hurried them inside and shut the door.
Jonathan drew in his breath at the sight before him. He had expected the same mess of torn books, overturned tables, spilled candles, and broken furniture that he had left the night of his escape, but the room was now tidy and clean. A few pieces of furniture were missing, namely several of the chairs from around the Council Table, but everything else seemed to be in its proper place.
The table held a few damaged books, hand-inked pages previously torn from their bindings now stacked in neat piles next to the volumes. Other than those awaiting restoration, the books had been placed back on the shelves. Jonathan examined the floor where his father had lain between the judgment seat and the back door. Even the blood stains had been removed from the smooth stone. He wondered who had cleaned up the hall.
Walking over to the books on the northern wall, he saw they were all correctly filed. “Someone from Daniel placed these in their proper locations,” he observed. He looked around the room again and remembered his purpose for coming.
“Pekah,” Jonathan said as he turned to look at the new captain of Gideon, “I haven’t asked for The Thorn to be returned to me. I gave it freely. But I would rather not take it with us into battle with Rezon.”
Pekah appeared to be embarrassed. “I forgot I still had the pouch around my neck.” He removed the pouch, then opened it to retrieve the cloth bundle, which he handed to Jonathan. “I’m sorry.”
“No apology needed. I considered you the steward of the scepter.” Jonathan grinned, and then repeated, “Steward of the Scepter-I like that.”
Pekah smiled.
“Eli, Pekah, I want you to see where this is stored, but I don’t want anyone else to know. Would you mind locking the doors, please?”
Eli hastened to the back of the hall, and Pekah went to the front. They locked both doors, then returned to watch.
Jonathan looked at Pekah and said with amusement, “And this, my dear Gideonite captain, is why you and the late Sachar never found The Thorn!”
He went to the judgment seat and sat down, and while firmly pressing his left heel against a small protruding piece of stone at the base, he twisted the right armrest outward. Placing the cloth-wrapped scepter in the revealed compartment, he slid the armrest back into place until it clicked, then rose from the seat. He looked up to see shock on Pekah’s face. Eli simply laughed out loud.
“Please keep this a secret,” he asked. “I don’t believe any other living person knows about this hiding place, and I would prefer to keep it that way for now. But we are going into battle, and if something happens to me, I don’t want to be the only one who knows where it is.” Then with feeling, he added, “I trust you both with my life.”
Eli grabbed Jonathan up and squeezed him hard, making Jonathan choke out a laugh before he let go.
“You are my very dearest friend, Nate. I would do anything to protect you. And…” Eli paused momentarily as if to be sure Pekah was listening. “… Pekah already has.”
Pekah glowed. Eli gave a small bow of respect in his direction, making him redden even more.
Jonathan thanked Eli for his sincere loyalty. Turning to Pekah, he said, “Your humility is evident, but Eli’s right. You have done some amazing things in the last week. I thank you again for saving my life.”
Pekah stumbled over his words. “You are welcome.”
The three men then left the Council Hall.
They found Amon’s company ready to ride, and it was apparent that Amon had been waiting for them. Even Rachel and Abigail were on their mounts next to the general. Rachel threw Jonathan a look of disgust, but then broke into a smile.
“I hope I won’t have to wait this long for your letter of marriage to arrive,” Rachel teased.
Jonathan shrugged, pretending not to know what she meant. “Am I late? I am so sorry. Please forgive me.”
This made Rachel laugh, and Abigail managed a smile.
Amon called for attention, then asked Tavor if he would pray to their Creator and Protector for deliverance. Tavor graciously accepted. The priest of Uzzah stayed on his horse, but bowed his head and loudly offered a prayer that all could hear-a humble petition, heartfelt, and sincere. On behalf of the united army, he requested protection and success, then closed with tokens of gratitude, all of which were echoed by a communal “amen.”
The general thanked Tavor for his petitions. With a waved command, they left the walls of the village of Hasor and started down the northern road.
Blinding dust clouds rose from the wide and well-traveled road to Ramathaim as the thundering hooves of more than two hundred horses hastened on their way. Pekah, Ezra, and Tavor all rode near Amon, each at the head of their fifty, and Jonathan, Eli, the women, and all of Amon’s support staff traveled in the rear. Many of the mounts in the final group were burdened with provisions, tents, and other supplies. As they began to fall behind, Amon gave the order for them to catch up later. The distance to Ramathaim was normally a very full day by donkey-drawn cart or by foot. But with the horses, Jonathan calculated that Amon’s company would make it to the Holy City sometime after Azure and Aqua were high overhead, well before the cool of the evening set in.
Dirt that had turned to powder testified of the thousands who recently marched that way. Jonathan suspected Captain Mehida’s host had traveled far during the night. Feeling sure they would not find the army until they were nearly to the Holy City of Uzzah, he hoped Mehida’s army would not be exhausted by their forced march.
Those hopes were bolstered a few hours later when they found signs Mehida had camped sometime before dawn. Amon called for the company to halt. The gurgle of a familiar stream promised an opportunity to water the horses. On their way to the stream, they passed an abandoned fire-pit. The general bent down to check its warmth with his palm.
“The coals are still alive. I expect we will catch up with Captain Mehida within the next hour or two.”
“Ramathaim isn’t far,” said an Uzzahite soldier in their midst, his tone anxious.
Jonathan noticed fear in the eyes of some of the younger soldiers around him, the implications of being so close to their goal finally settling in. A few of them, mostly Danielites, expressed their misgivings about going into battle, causing conversations to center on the gruesome work of death that would soon be required in order to subdue General Rezon and protect the inhabitants of the Holy City. Dread settled over the entire company like a pall, the sudden change in mood felt by everyone.
The thought of participating in the impending battle soured Jonathan’s stomach. Grateful as he was for Amon’s leadership, and for the great change wrought upon Jasher’s army, Jonathan found it difficult to soften the bitter anger he felt in his heart. As long as the war continued, he doubted he would find peace in his soul. Even though he wanted nothing more to do with the war, he had no choice. Rezon had to be stopped.
Jonathan pushed his own need for peace out of his mind. Standing near Rachel while their horses took water, he reached for her hand. “Do you need anything?”
“I’m fine. Tired of riding, but fine,” Rachel said, her response anxious.
Jonathan wasn’t convinced. Although she did not complain, he could tell she was not only weary, but perhaps even afraid. He stayed close to her until Amon suggested that they be on their way.
Amon’s eagerness to catch up to Mehida’s army caused them to ride harder than they had all morning, but the determined pace helped ease some of the heavy burden on their hearts. When they stopped for their mid-day meal-or mid-day snack, as Eli had termed it-they ate standing up. Again they rode with the speed of a falcon to its prey.
Just as predicted, they caught up to Mehida’s thousands on the edge of the foothills, the sharp peaks of the Hara Range looming before them. As they rode into the ranks, a cheer went up from Mehida’s men. Many of the soldiers wished health and prosperity upon the heir of Daniel as he passed by them. Somewhat embarrassed by being singled out, Jonathan managed to greet them politely, wishing them the same.
“Welcome, General Amon,” Mehida said with a salute as the company approached the head of the column.
“Thank you, Mehida. You have done very well in your march. Are the men still strong?”
“Yes, sir. We rested for several hours this morning, and they seem to be as fresh as they were yesterday. What are your orders, sir?”
“No specific orders at this time, Captain. We are here to march with you. I’m grateful for your strength. My men feel the weight of the coming battle, but we will march to Ramathaim with our proud banners declaring the unity of this Army of Brothers.”
Soldiers from Gideon, Daniel, and Uzzah, who were close enough to hear the general name the army, all shouted, “Hosanna!” Others added their voices as the expression was repeated again, followed by the entire host joining in yet a third time, their shout loud enough to reach the heavens. The rumble of their declaration seemed to shake the very ground upon which they stood. The heaviness of fear lifted, replaced by a thrilling feeling of purpose. For a moment, Jonathan felt nothing in the universe could prevent them from accomplishing their goal.
With great excitement, the men holding the green and white banners of Gideon, the purple and white of Daniel, and the blue and white of Uzzah, waved them back and forth in front of the Army of Brothers. At Amon’s command, they marched onward together, toward glory or defeat, according to the mercy of the Holy One in whom they trusted.