Memories
Morning came, and Jonathan awoke to the singing of forest songbirds. Warmth and brightness crept into the cave, telling him of a sky both clear and cloudless. The angle of illumination in the passageway also told him he had slept far longer into the day than he had intended. Remembering the events of the evening, he sat up with a sigh. His hunger manifested itself in a strong growl. He had not eaten anything since the mid-day meal the previous day. Jonathan pressed the bedding into a tight roll and secured it with leather thongs. He pulled his boots on, then sat on the bedroll with the supply sack between his feet to take inventory of his cache.
The provisions were scanty-a mere two days’ worth of food, and that would be stretching it. There was a round of shepherd’s bread wrapped in a towel and some dried, spiced meat. He also found a half-round of goat cheese, raisins and dried apples in gourds with lids, and a small skin of wine.
Well, he thought, not a king’s ransom, but a good variety, even if it is a small portion.
Jonathan decided it would be prudent to eat only enough to curb his hunger, so he ate a chunk of the crusty bread and some dried apples. On the back wall of the cave, a damp trickle of a spring crawled down from the ceiling and disappeared into a crack in the rock. Using a stashed wooden cup to catch the water, he filled and drained it several times until his thirst was quenched. He filled the cup two more times, splashing the cool, clear liquid over his head so he could wash the dust from his face and short-trimmed beard.
Jonathan then went to work and coiled the rope from the guard tower to a suitable size to be slung across his chest. He tested the tension on the bowstring by pulling it to his chin with ease. He then arranged the arrows in the quiver to be sure they had not become entangled. He strapped on his belt, sheathed his boot dagger, donned his large gray cloak, and grabbed his shoulder sack and quiver. Then he made his way through the low passageway to the ledge. Once outside, the brightness of the morning suns made him blink as his eyes adjusted to the light. He sat and dangled his feet for a few minutes while he thought about his plans.
The mid-morning heat would soon make travel far less enjoyable. Behind him and above the rocky cliffs, the small twin solar disks of Azure and Aqua had climbed from the western horizon and into the dark blue expanse above him. The suns’ distance made them visually small, and Jonathan could block them both with his little finger by lifting his hand skyward. Yet the two suns were still so intensely hot and bright that they would blind a man if he were to look straight at them. Jonathan could see that the sun Azure was near to its companion Aqua, and knew that the next morning during their rising, Azure would pass in front of the lighter blue sun, marking the start of the Sabbath day. The purplish hue in the summer sky now surrounding Azure was beautiful to him.
As Jonathan sat on the rocky ledge, he still felt a fatigue as deep as his bones. He ran his hands through his shoulder-length brown hair to untangle it, and scratched his beard. He then reached into the pocket of his undershirt, retrieving the cloth bundle hidden there. With deep respect, Jonathan unrolled the cloth in his hands. A picture of a red serpent inside a white circle had been embroidered on the soft, purple square of linen. The Mark of the Serpent signified the Tribe of Daniel.
In the opened cloth lay a stunningly beautiful rod about seven inches in length and an inch or so thick. The rod had been crafted of smooth, clear glass, knobbed at the ends with white-gold caps etched with exquisite writing and designs. Jonathan read the familiar engraving on each end: “Holiness, Honor, Humility.” The light from the twin suns glinted off the surface of the scepter, and within the glass, the embedded thorn almost sparkled as Jonathan rolled the rod back and forth in his palm.
Centered within the scepter, and visible in every detail, was a two-inch long, bloodstained gray thorn. It had been pressed into the still-molten glass, and had thus been preserved throughout the last nine hundred years.
As Jonathan studied the bloodstained tip of the thorn, his mind went back to a cold winter day long ago when, as a young boy, he sat with his father in the Council Room after eating breakfast.
“Father, why is there a thorn in your scepter?”
Samuel smiled and scooted a bit closer to Jonathan on the wooden bench. He held the scepter up to the morning light streaming from the high western windows and turned the rod to catch the rays, dispersing the soft beams around them onto the floor.
“What do you see?” Samuel asked.
Jonathan looked closer and noticed that the tip of the thorn was dark brown, whereas the thorn itself was gray. “It looks like blood,” he said with some uncertainty.
“That’s right. It is blood. Would you like to hear the story about this thorn?”
“Yes!”
“Do you remember the name of the person who lived about one thousand years ago, the person we call the Original Man?” Samuel asked.
“Sure-Father Noah!”
“That’s right. When our world, which we call Gan, was created, the first man to live upon it was Father Noah. Noah’s wife was named Sarah. He loved her more than anything else. Mother Sarah bore Noah three sons, whom he named Daniel, Uzzah, and Gideon. The Writings of Daniel, Noah’s eldest son, tell of a day when he was chopping trees and brush on the edge of a field with his brothers to help his father clear it for planting.”
Jonathan frowned with disgust. “I don’t like chopping bushes.”
Samuel chuckled. “I know you don’t. But sometimes we have to do things we don’t like so we can provide food for ourselves. Much like the good eggs and bread you had for breakfast!” Samuel poked Jonathan, and he giggled.
“Daniel said in his writings that on this particular day as he chopped bushes, he happened to trip over a root. When he got up from his fall, his head hurt, and blood dripped into his eyes. His father rushed to him to be sure he had not been severely injured. Noah pulled this thorn from Daniel’s forehead.”
“Did it hurt?”
“Yes, I am sure it did. But Daniel felt much better when the thorn was gone.” Samuel assured his son with a pat on the shoulder.
“But that is not where the story ends. With Daniel’s brothers looking on, his father stood up and was very quiet as he stared heavenward. Daniel, Uzzah, and Gideon all watched Father Noah gazing into the sky. Daniel said, ‘his father’s face shone like the sun, his eyes full of joy and gladness.’”
Jonathan gaped at the excitement in Samuel’s eyes as he retold the story of Daniel. Oh, how he loved his father and wanted so much to be just like him.
Samuel continued, “As the young men watched their father, they realized Noah was listening to somebody they could not see. The three brothers felt a very special spirit. Then Father Noah gazed down at Daniel, and around to Uzzah and Gideon, and said in a clear voice, with power and humility: ‘Just as this thorn has pierced the head of my eldest son, thorns will pierce the head of The One Who Would Suffer. He will be mocked and beaten, and a crown of thorns will be made for Him to wear. Daniel, because of your faith in God, you will wear the crown of a king, and you will judge this people in righteousness to the end of your days. Through you and your posterity will all the peoples of my seed be judged until the True King comes and receives his kingdom here on Gan!’”
Samuel put his arm around Jonathan’s shoulder and explained, “Father Noah blessed all his sons that day. He prophesied of their posterity and told them of the great blessings they would all receive if they remained faithful to their Creator and God.
“It has been said that Daniel was both awed and humbled, and that his brother Uzzah was gracious and glad for him. But Gideon was jealous of the birthright blessing Daniel had received. The day eventually came, after the death of Noah, when the three sons and their families became tribes, separate one from another. Wars between the Gideonites and the other tribes became common because of the great jealousy Gideon had for Daniel.
“Remember! Remember to always pray for them that someday their jealousy and anger will be turned to love for their brethren.”
Jonathan’s mind returned to the present, and he again felt the pain of the previous day. He frowned as he regarded the scepter. Much of the suffering in the world had been caused by the desires of wicked men to go against the will of the Creator as spoken by Father Noah. All three tribes were very large now, comprised of thousands of men, women, and children. But recently, many had died at the hands of the Gideonites. Hundreds had been sent to their eternal home, leaving behind their loved ones to mourn their departure.
He reached up with a free hand, brushing a fresh tear away. His heart ached as he realized Samuel had paid the ultimate price for defending his family and his beliefs, leaving Jonathan alone in the world. Somber as he sat in quiet contemplation, he stared into the glass rod for quite some time.
Growing uncomfortable under the mid-morning light of the twin suns, he sighed and rolled the scepter back into its protective cloth, then retired it to his shirt pocket. Jonathan pulled himself up from his sitting position and yawned, stretching his strong back muscles. He viewed the green trees below him and prepared to climb onto the large, dead oak branch below.
Just then, he heard the faint noise of voices coming from the direction of the trail he had intended to follow south. He fell prone onto the rock ledge, his feet inside the cave entrance, and retrieved his spyglass from its belt pouch. Inching to the edge, he searched the trail for signs of movement.
He lay very still, but the strain of minimizing his movements and controlling his breathing caused him to sweat. Through the ocular of the spyglass, he saw an army of about two hundred soldiers coming from the south, all wearing hardened leather breastplates adorned with a black raven. They would soon pass directly below. Jonathan collapsed the small scope so as not to cause a visible reflection, then cautiously pushed himself back from the ledge and waited.
The noise grew louder as the army approached. Heavy sounds of marching feet on the shaded trail below echoed against the face of the rocky cliff. Jonathan strained to hear conversations, but could not discern any specific words from the men. He heard only the occasional muffled shout of orders from one section of the advancing army to another. Because of the speed of their march, it did not take the Gideonites long to pass the cliff and disappear over the rolling, wooded hills to the north.
Even though they were now gone, Jonathan was disturbed. He moved back into the defenses of the cave and took a squatting position a few feet into the shadows.
Now what do I do? he thought, frustrated. If I leave now, I am sure to be caught. If they are still sending large numbers of troops north, there will be more to come.
He puzzled over the predicament, then went to his knees.
“My Father and my God, what shall I do now?”
Jonathan listened with eyes closed and his hands on his knees. After a brief moment, he heard within his mind just one word from that familiar sweet voice- wait. Rising from his knees, he retreated to the confines of the cave and said audibly to himself, “Yes, I will wait until I feel differently.”
He busied himself in the cave for the rest of the morning. Feeling he would be there for a while, he removed his sword belt and shoulder sack and began to clean things up a bit. He organized the items in the cave, then took time to inspect his own clothing for frays or tears. The few he found he repaired with the use of some ingenuity and threads painstakingly removed from discarded cloth in the cave. The morning grew late, and Jonathan ate a more substantial part of his provisions for lunch. But as he finished his meal, he still did not feel it was time to leave. On one other occasion during the morning, Jonathan had stopped his activities to listen to what seemed to be another army passing below.
The much quieter afternoon relieved some of his anxiety. Even the chirping and activity of birds in the forest caused Jonathan to feel more relaxed. He decided to take the opportunity for a brief nap.
Although it seemed such a short time that he slept, he awoke late. He sat up suddenly, alarmed that the light outside was already dim with the onset of early evening. He got to his feet and stretched under the rough cave ceiling, touching it. Now twenty-nine years old and over six feet tall, what had seemed like such a grand cavern to him as a youth now just barely allowed him to move about comfortably.
Jonathan gathered his things and decided to go to the ledge for a look around. Reaching the old oak tree, he surveyed the forest floor below him and listened. Nothing out of the ordinary came to his senses, and yet he still did not feel inclined to leave. He still had the same feeling from earlier that morning. Not wanting to return to the cave, he set his back against the cliff wall and stretched his legs out, his dusty brown boots almost reaching the edge of the rock shelf. The heat of the day was gone, having been replaced with a refreshing, cool evening breeze. Coursing through a darkening sky, the twin suns both descended toward the eastern horizon, the expanse painted like an ocean scene in shades of intense blue. Soon the deep hues would be mixed with the familiar colors of a scarlet and violet sunset. Jonathan felt almost content as he rested there, admiring the beautiful sights of nature. He let his mind wander from thought to thought.
Not much time passed before Jonathan was startled by noise below. “Another army!” he whispered to himself.
He again went prone on the ledge to avoid detection, and inched his way to a better place to see the trails winding below him. The army approached, but this time from the north, heading south. Their march was quite slow for some reason. Jonathan studied their movements and soon realized the small group was a prisoner escort. He strained his eyes, scanning for the face of the prisoner between the branches and leaves which obscured a clear view. It was getting darker among the trees and harder for Jonathan to see, but as the eight men got close, he caught a glimpse of a man in bonds-as large as a bear, and wearing a sour expression beneath his flame-red beard.
Jonathan gasped. Eli!