by Beth Shriver
Enan,
I am wide awake and filled with you. Your image overwhelms me and allows me no rest. Any other thoughts are those of our starving village, craving for what has been lost. Your people, your family, and I are all mourning for what once was a shining little oasis in the cruel desert and has now been plundered by the Romans.
How I long to hear of you, to know you are well and missing me as I miss you, to hear you tell me of sweet pleasures and of better times. My image of you fades with time, and your voice mingles with those of others. I need you near me once again, to know you are real and to separate you from them. I don’t know what will happen to us. I do know that God has a plan, and I pray that plan is for us to be reunited again very soon. You seem so far away from me, more now than ever before, because I need you more than ever. My heart breaks for all the suffering both here and there with you. For if you have incurred anything even remotely as we have, and I know you have, you need these prayers as much as we do, prayers that I have implored from my soul. Take care my love, and hold me in your heart.
Tirzah
Chapter Twenty-Five
Enan held true to his word and helped Stephen work out a training program for the young men of the village. At first, just the village men came, but word of mouth brought many others from the mountainside and even farther from smaller village’s miles away. The soldiers teach them to fight, but also of God’s love, by their example.
Whenever Enan had the opportunity, he would quiet his thoughts as Christ would have him do to help the men overcome differences. In doing so, he found a certain calmness he’d never known he possessed. In turn the men learned to work as one. Stephen was able to quickly discern which men would excel in what fields and helped them to hone their natural talents. Then, he placed them in groups, rotating in one of two areas—battlefield tactics or mounted training. Enan worked with the men on general horsemanship and mounted fighting skills. He paid special attention to one young man in particular Efraim, whose skill matched Enan’s heart for the bow and longed for a steed of his own. He reminded Enan of his brother, Dustan, which made him worry for his family.
Efraim’s intuitiveness with a horse captivated Enan. He continued to push him, and Efraim completed each component and moved on without hesitation. Now, at the end of the training day, Enan watched Efraim’s heel and toe commands as he led the horse at a full gallop through the sandy makeshift training field he and Stephen had constructed. Efraim controlled the horse by his calf and foot commands only. Bow in hand and arrows in a pouch on his back, he reached back and grabbed an arrow as he halted the horse and shot the target painted on a bag of sand.
Applause and hollers rose from the crowd of men as they watched Efraim slide from his horse and retrieve the arrow. He walked over to Enan, unable to hide his proud smile. He waited for Enan to speak.
When he didn’t, Efraim asked, “Do you have corrections for me, Commander?” Still not comfortable with the title Stephen had given him, Enan paused, trying to decide if it was worth another conversation with him. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at Efraim. A grin slowly crept across his face as he answered. While he appreciated Efraim’s humility, he wanted him to show his pride if he ever had to fight.
“How do you feel about your performance?”
Efraim hesitated as his bottom lip jutted out.
Enan took a few steps to the side of the horse and circled him as he spoke. “Did your horse yield at precisely the moment your toe touched his side?”
“Yes—”
Enan interrupted. “Did you have your arrow in hand and resting on the arrow plate when the horse halted?”
“Yes.”
“How far did your arrow cast?”
Though Enan expected hesitation, Efraim answered immediately and kept his head high and eyes forward. “Twenty yards.” Efraim moved his eyes to Enan. “I would like to try from a greater distance.”
Enan smiled and stopped in front of the gray horse, giving him a pat to his neck. “You will, young Efraim.” Enan glanced at the target behind him and back to Efraim. “You were barely in the eye. When you hit it square, I’ll move you back.”
Efraim’s will got the best of him. “But, Commander, I have hit the mark more than a dozen times today.”
Enan walked away. “How many in the center of the eye and not to its edge?” This silenced the young man, and he went to his horse, grasping his lucky arrow, and headed for the stable.
Enan walked to the other side of the training area where Stephen was working a group of men on the quintain, a training device that consisted of a target fixed on a revolving wooden beam that pivoted on top of a center post. A bag of sand was affixed to the opposite side of the beam. The object was to train the rider to hit the target cleanly at battle speed. If the rider did not hit the target, he would receive a painful blow from the bag of sand.
Enan watched as a rider at good speed adjusted his spear and hit the target. Although it was not a clean hit, it was sufficient to delay the bag long enough for him to slip by before it flew his way. The bag was readjusted, and the next rider readied himself.
Enan came up alongside Stephen. “Why do you insist on the men calling me by a title I haven’t earned?” Enan asked. “Levi is a commander, so is my friend Nethan, but I am not.”
They watched another rider lift his lance too late and hit the edge of the target, launching the bag. It hit him in the chest, knocking him off his horse. They both winced as he rolled over in the sand groaning. His horse was taken away and the bag readjusted.
Stephen looked ahead to the horizon. The vast pink-and-yellow sunset before them hung boldly over the golden sand as the hot wind blew onto their beaded brows. “You are leading, training, and commanding a group of men preparing for battle, which is the definition of the title, commander. We should not talk of this again. I have grown tired of it.” He gestured to Efraim. “You are hard on that young man. You must think a lot of him.”
Smiling, Enan nodded. “I see few with as much skill as he demonstrates but even more impressive are his spirit and determination. He is hard to discourage. The only thing I question is his separation from the others. There seems to be no animosity between them, but he is often alone.”
“Hmm, it might be as simple as him being a crop grower’s son. From out in the middle of nowhere and around no one. What’s his name? I’ll have to remember it.”
“Efraim. He’ll be one I put in charge.”
Stephen’s brows drew together. “The winners of the tournament were to be named.”
“I’m not worried. Efraim puts the others far behind him.”
Stephen grinned. “I hope so, for your sake.”
They walked slowly in silence for a moment before Stephen spoke again. “I feel uncomfortable around some of the villagers about speaking to the young men of our beliefs. Do you think we put them in harm’s way if we continue?”
Enan gathered his thoughts. “I have heard this, as well, but I feel I’m reaching a number of them. I can’t be silent now. I don’t force my beliefs on anyone, but when the Holy Spirit leads, I’ll always share.” Enan stared at Stephen. “We will put them in harm’s way if we don’t speak out.”
Stephen nodded his understanding and gave Enan a slap to his back. “I admire your strength, Enan. I’ll have to watch you and learn.”
Enan chuckled as they made their way to Hadar and Vita’s home for the evening meal. They had many invitations to share meals with the trainees’ families, but Vita insisted they remain impartial and not accept the offers.
Enan felt this was right, but knew better than to think that was the only reason for her keeping them to herself, and decided it would give them another venue to spread the Message if they started accepting these offers.
As they entered, they knew the routine to wash and change before coming to the kitchen. Enan mused at what the trainees would think of how well trained he and Stephen were before sitting down to eat their evening meal.<
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He donned a fresh tunic and tied it at the waist with a leather belt. Leaning above the wash basin, he felt the wound stab at his calf and leaned back again. Would he ever be ever fully healed? He didn’t even ask for that much; just enough to get him home. He cupped water in his hands and splashed it on his face three times and then looked at his reflection in a polished metal tray that sat by the wash basin.
Watching the drops of water fall from his sun browned face, he noticed his brown locks had lightened to much the same shade as they were when he was a boy and had grown past his shoulders. His usually clean-shaven face showed the stubble of the day’s growth. It seemed that when he’d left his home, he’d left his youth, as well, not only showing a change in appearance, but inner maturity.
Never had he thought he could leave his family, and even more so his Tirzah, for such a length of time without the pull of homesickness tearing him apart. Hearing Vita’s voice as she sang a song, he had become accustomed to make him wonder if he was disloyal to his love and family so many miles away. After the tournament, he would talk with Stephen again about leaving.
As he dried his face, he found himself humming the song Vita sang so beautifully. On his way to the table, he grabbed a basket full of bread, and another full of grapes, and placed them on the table before he sat down. Vita stopped singing and sat beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder, a familiar gesture when she wanted his attention. But tonight, with his emotions running high, it made him feel awkward, and he moved forward to reach for a pitcher of water and stood to fill the cups.
Vita rose and took the pitcher from him. “I can pour. You’re anxious this evening.” She filled a cup and moved to the next and then lifted her eyes to his. “Did something happen at training?”
He tried to avert his eyes but felt her stare so intensely he knew she would probe deeper if he didn’t look at her. The deep green captivated his attention, causing him to search for words. “No, today was a good day.”
She set the pitcher down, continuing to stare. “Then what is it?”
He shook his head and glanced over to Stephen’s room, hoping he would join them. “Nothing, I was just thinking of home.” Surprised at his own answer, he waited to hear her response, but she remained silent as she walked up next to him, her body almost touching his, and took his hand. He kept his gaze on their hands joined together, his large, dark hand against her delicate, brown one.
“This is your home, Enan.”
He shook his head.
She placed her other hand on the side of his face and gently pushed his cheek until they were staring directly into each other’s eyes. “Yes, and I will do anything for you to stay.” Entranced by her emerald eyes, he didn’t move. Even though his mind told him to, his body was dead weight, drawn to hers.
“Vita…” She pressed her fingers to his lips and puckered hers to make a shushing sound. His eyes moved to her lips, and his body responded as it did when he was with Tirzah. Alarmed by his reaction, he backed away, but she grasped his hand tightly.
“Vita, Tirzah’s waiting for me.”
She pulled him to her, and the desperate appeal in her eyes drew him to her again. “Tirzah. She is far away, and I’m here. You are loyal to her because you are a good man, but your promises to one another mean nothing in time of war.”
The last of her words angered him. “No. Tirzah is as loyal as I am, probably more so, and she would never turn to another in my absence. We made vows to one another before God. I will not be the one to break that covenant.” He turned his back to her to regain his composure.
She walked up to him and placed her hand on his side, resting her head on his back. Squeezing his eyes shut, he resisted the comfort of her touch. Turning to her, he grasped her hands tightly. He held his voice steady as he forced out the words.
“You need to help me be strong. I would hate myself if I ever did anything to hurt Tirzah. Please understand what that would do to me.”
Tears welled as she answered, “I have helped mend you, feed you, and make you a home, but I will not help you with her.” She pulled her hands from his, wiped her eyes, and went to the kitchen. Enan looked up to see Stephen standing in the arched stone doorway of his room.
Stephen’s face filled with dismay. Enan turned, not wanting to see. He had disappointed himself and didn’t need to see that same disappointment from his friend.
****
The tournament began at dawn and stopped for four hours midday to take advantage of the coolness of the morning and evening. Excitement filled the air as the trainees took their places at the different stations assigned to them. The village, never having had such an event, went to great extent with foods, serving fish, cheeses, fruits, and plenty of wine. The people brought out blankets or small wooden stools to sit on. This was an occasion that the little mining village of Samech would never forget.
The three hundred men were divided among four stations. The main events throughout the day were sword fighting, spear throw, archery, and horsemanship. To close the evening, the men showed the crowd their condensed imitation of the Roman battle formation. This consisted of sixty-four men, formed eight by eight squared, carrying eight-foot-long spears—a nearly impenetrable formation, and quite impressive to a mass of mining villagers, and even to Enan and Stephen, who both wondered if the men would be able to pull off such a tightly-structured military defense. Although not perfect, they did well, and the imperfections were only noticed by Enan and Stephen’s practiced observation. The crowd watched silently and burst into applause as they marched off the sandy field.
They celebrated long into the evening with the cheerful people of the village. People brought out their flutes and drums, and one woman played beautifully on her lyre. The baker had been busy the day before making bread from the wheat people had brought to donate for the event. They dipped their bread in wine and added a bit of honey, as it was a special occasion.
Enan sat at a large wooden table brought out from one of the villager’s homes. Children chased each other, laughing as the adults talked of the day’s events. This brought back memories of his times with Abraham and his children, who he knew as if they were his own, and he longed for home.
Vita walked to the table with a tray of wine and fruit. She set it down and took a seat at the table next to Enan. Hadar poured a cup of wine and then refilled Enan’s.
When he felt the call, he shared his testimony and his relationship with Jesus. He told them the parables that Christ shared with the disciples.
Each time, he would pray that they hear God through him. He had always been surrounded by Christians, and he still felt he didn’t have what was needed to lead others to Christ, but he continued to trust the Lord to use him as God’s instrument.
“Lord, equip me and help them hear Your voice,” he whispered before he began.
He spoke of Christ and His death on the cross. They knew of Christ and had willfully rejected Him for decades, but their curiosity gave Enan hope that they would soon open their hearts. As the evening crept into the wee morning hours, Enan, Stephen, and Hadar thanked all for their hospitality and made their way back home.
Home, Enan thought as they walked down the dirt street toward Vita’s. He felt a traitor at how naturally he named her home as his own. He followed in after Stephen and Hadar, and they went straight to their rooms, but Enan was parched and needed water.
Vita had gone home after Enan’s stories and now emerged from her room with sleepy eyes and rosy cheeks. She tousled her thick, dark hair and yawned as she entered the kitchen. Enan filled a cup and offered one to her.
She shook her head. “So, your young Efraim did well today?”
Enan’s smile was as proud as a father’s. “Yes, I knew he would.” He took a long drink, glad to have the taste of water after a night of wine. “He is full of questions. He’s one that has boldly asked of my faith and is honestly seeking the truth.”
“Yes, you have created that curiosity in me as well.”r />
Enan stopped his thoughts and gave her an inquisitive stare. “You are patient to listen to what I have to say, but I have wondered if you feel it in your heart, Vita.”
“How do you know when you believe?” She kept her eyes averted as she spoke.
Enan’s heart lifted. “You feel the Holy Spirit’s tug at your heart.”
Her eyes still downcast she continued, “I feel as though I know this man, Jesus, through your stories, but I don’t feel worthy of Him.”
“That’s why God sent His Son, to take away all sin.”
She drew her eyebrows together with a look of hope. “All sin, with no sacrifice?”
“Jesus is the last sacrifice ever needed. His pleasure comes from us living our lives through Him, loving Him and each other.”
“That sounds like my own father.”
Enan smiled and prayed inwardly. Thank you God, help her to understand You.
“Yes, like Hadar.” Pleased by her words, he continued to answer her questions about his faith. He stretched his weary legs out in front of him, arms overhead, and yawned, wondering how they had moved from the kitchen to the sitting area on the couch.
Vita was so comfortable to him he realized he hadn’t stopped talking since they sat down. She patiently listened to his every detail of the day.
“You must be tired. I’m sorry I’ve carried on.” He noticed her tired eyes and weary smile. “Why didn’t you stop me? We should both be in bed.”
She stretched her arms around his neck and laid her head on his chest. “Because I love to hear you talk, especially about something you’re so passionate about.” She lifted her head to look at him. “Thank you for caring enough to share your Savior with me, and the others. But you must know that you are in danger.”
“Stephen has warned me as well, but I can’t let that stop me. I could never leave you and the other good people here without hoping they believe my words. And somehow I feel a hedge of protection around me. I felt it as we left Barak’s home as well.”