Daron Fraley - The Thorn

Jonathan declined. “Pekah, keep them for us. Should we not need the money in Ain, the coins are yours.”

Pekah shrugged and tied the bag around his belt. They returned to their task of hiding the bodies of the fallen soldiers, using the cut limbs and some large pieces of bark from downed rotting timber. As they finished, they noticed the darkness fast approaching.

“There may be other patrolling soldiers about,” Eli said.

“True,” Jonathan agreed. “We should move on.”

The three men crossed the grassy glade and chose the western fork of the dividing path. Eli suggested they travel single file on the side of the trail once they entered the trees. This minimized the traces of their passing, even though occasional underbrush and branches slowed their progress. As they hiked through the forest, the waning light of dusk was replaced by light from the two smaller rising moons. The heavens peeked in upon them between the treetops, showing a beautiful spray of stars. As was common at this time of year, a dim green aurora danced over the southern sky, and Eli hummed a simple child’s lullaby about the lights in the heavens.

Jonathan’s troubled heart warmed upon hearing the deep, soothing melody. “Thank you, Eli,” he said.

“You’re welcome. Music lifts the spirit, does it not?”

“It certainly does help.”

Pekah did not comment.

Eli continued to hum, and Jonathan was glad for it. Curious about the Gideonite who had joined him, he peered over at Pekah. He could just make out the soldier’s face in the dim light provided by holes in the leafy canopy above. Whether aware of Jonathan’s curiosity or not, Pekah’s gaze did not leave the ground. He seemed tired and distant, so Jonathan did not attempt to engage him in conversation.

Now larger and much closer together, the trees bordering the shadowed path completely obstructed the lights of the moons and made it difficult for them to see where to step. Eli and Pekah rubbed two glow-stones to charge them, and then placed each crystal in a reflective lantern, the light of which allowed them to quicken their pace.

The men hadn’t eaten in some time, so the search for a place to rest for the night intensified. Their careful observation was rewarded as they turned from the path to follow the faint sound of trickling water.

About one hundred paces from the trail near a wide bend in a rocky stream, they found a thick growth of thorny, gnarled brush and vines overrunning a tight group of trees. The trees and bushes together made a natural barrier shaped like a cup turned on its side, the hollow facing the water. Because of location and a gentle southerly breeze, this made a perfect place to stay the night. Travelers on the forest path would probably not notice them as long as they were quiet, even with a campfire.

After unburdening themselves of all the supplies they carried, each of them helped to gather wood, piling it within a fire-circle of large rocks. Jonathan used flint to spark some tinder, and soon the fire burned bright and warm. They arranged logs for seating, then took the opportunity to wash at the stream’s edge before returning to camp to eat.

“I still have some dried meat, fruit, and half a cheese in my sack,” Jonathan offered. Eli growled like a hungry animal, rubbing his stomach for emphasis. Pekah grabbed his own provisions sack and produced a large round of leavened bread, some strips of salted meat, and a wineskin. Jonathan decided to save his own provisions, especially the fruit, for breakfast. Pekah grabbed his round of bread and started to break it into large pieces, but Jonathan held out his hand to stop him.

“Do you mind if we pray before we eat?” he asked.

Pekah appeared puzzled at first, but then shrugged his shoulders. “That would be fine.”

Both Eli and Jonathan knelt on the ground and bowed their heads. Jonathan glanced at Pekah, who mimicked them like an awkward youth.

“Our Father, our God, we come to Thee in humility and with broken hearts…” Jonathan paused as his voice began to quaver. He composed himself and continued. “We thank Thee for all which Thou dost provide; for life, for bread, for strength and wisdom and love. We thank Thee for the Son whom Thou wilt send. May Thy blessings be upon us, and upon our peoples. We thank Thee for the protection we have been granted this day. May the souls of those who have gone home to Thee find rest, forgiveness, and healing. Let peace reign, and the hearts of all men be softened by truth and love. Bless us to this end and prepare us for Thy will to be done. Amen and amen.”

Jonathan opened his eyes and found Pekah staring at him.

“You seem troubled. Did I say something that bothered you?”

Pekah shook his head. “No.” His gaze fell, and he gave no other explanation.

Jonathan did not press the issue. He took an offered piece of dried meat from Eli. Pekah still held the bread motionless in his hands, and Eli had to get his attention in order to ask him to share. Pekah apologized.

All three men fell quiet, lost in thought. Jonathan reflected on his father’s passing. He felt guilty for leaving Samuel’s body in the Council Hall, and wondered if he should have gone back. Surely the Gideonite army did not leave him there, Jonathan reassured himself. He imagined them taking the body to a hill outside the village walls. He pictured the familiar green hills and almost smelled the fresh dirt as shovels turned over the sod. Jonathan’s guilt turned to sorrow as he realized he would never till the soil at Samuel’s side again.

Fighting back tears, his attention turned to Eli, who chewed his last bite of jerky loudly enough to be heard. Eli gazed at him expectantly, as if he wanted to talk.

“Pekah?” Jonathan asked. “Do you mind if Eli and I excuse ourselves for a moment?”

Pekah shook his head and said, “No.”

Jonathan gave him a reassuring smile. “Thank you. We’ll be back.”

Jonathan and Eli grabbed their sword belts and left the fire. They found a suitable place to sit outside of earshot, but still within sight of the fire-lit camp. The site they chose was well-lit by the beaming three sister moons.

Before Jonathan could sit on the log they found, Eli grabbed Jonathan to himself and embraced him. They patted each other’s backs firmly, and then clasped forearms. Tears of joy and sorrow welled in their eyes and dropped onto their arms.

Eli released his friend, and both men used their sleeves to dry their eyes. Then they sat down together under the moons-light to talk.

Jonathan broke the silence. “My father was slain.”

Eli exhaled. “I know. I saw him.”

“You were there? Tell me what you saw!”

Eli’s face filled with sorrow. Light from the moons above glistened upon his wet cheeks as tears tumbled from his green eyes and into his scruffy red beard. Jonathan’s own eyes blurred as Eli rubbed his eyes dry.

“I am so sorry, Jonathan,” Eli said with emotion. “This morning, after a speedy march with a group of eight other Uzzahite warriors, Tavor and I arrived at Hasor just as the suns were rising. I had hoped to assist you in your defense. However, my fears of arriving too late were confirmed as we approached the village walls. We came down from the north road, and when the east gate came into view, we found the heavy doors destroyed. The entire village had been deserted.”

“I think they were all taken prisoner,” Jonathan interjected as he wiped his cheeks with the backs of his hands.

“I think you’re right,” Eli confirmed. “We had seen a very large contingent of soldiers escorting a group of at least two hundred men, women, and children due west toward Saron the previous evening. We believe they were going to use the Geber Pass to get to Ain. Our scouts confirmed that Ain was taken just four days ago.”