The Chronicles of Gan: The Thorn

by Daron Fraley

  Pushing thoughts of Rachel out of his mind, Uzziel thought instead of the colored hem. “As blue as the heavens above,” he was fond of saying, or as his wife Miriam would say, “As pure as the color of Azure.” Both were good descriptions for the rare color, produced from saltwater shellfish obtained in one particular lagoon a few days north of Karmel.

  Uzziel was comfortable in the simple garment of a temple priest. The coarse, white cloth accentuated his red-streaked hair and long, well-groomed beard, also nearly white. Miriam said all the white caused him to look much older than he really was, perhaps even distinguished, but it still suited him well. Thinking of her made him smile.

  Once on flat ground, his rapid pace across the courtyard made it hard for Josiah and Abram to keep up. They seemed to be distracted by everything around them, watching for any sign of danger within the city walls. When they reached the far side of the grassy courtyard and approached the main city gate, they were hailed from above. Gigantic wood doors, made of beams thirty feet long, groaned open to receive them.

  The three men passed the sentinels posted inside the doors, expressing their appreciation, and the doors shut behind them. They followed the cobbled pathway across a second, much smaller, interior courtyard where several groups of soldiers were preparing arrows and other arms. Uzziel took the second street on the right that immediately began to ascend. Buildings bordering the street leaned in on them, getting closer with every step, until the width of the passage became barely wide enough to allow two horse-drawn carts to pass each other. The cobbled road steepened further.

  Uzziel breathed more heavily as they continued on the sloped road. They crossed several intersecting streets and finally arrived at a beautifully crafted archway on the west side.

  “Please come in,” Uzziel invited his bodyguards, who were now guests. “Would you join me for something to eat? Surely you’re hungry.”

  The two Uzzahite soldiers said, “Yes, thank you,” almost in unison. At his direction, they sat down at the oak table centered in the main room of the residence. The smell of a hot breakfast wafted in from the brick oven in the adjoining chamber, making Uzziel’s mouth water.

  A woman in her early fifties entered the room, looking quite surprised to see three of them there.

  “Uzziel, I heard you come in, but I didn’t know you had guests with you!”

  The soldiers politely introduced themselves as they stood up, and then at Uzziel’s insistence, sat again on the bench.

  “I am sorry, dear, for the surprise.” Uzziel said, smiling. “Did you know it rained all through the night? I didn’t even notice. It left behind a nice fog to greet us this morning—couldn’t see a thing! The steps to the wall were slippery, too. Almost fell on my way up. Thanks to Abram, I didn’t fall—he caught me. The Gideonites are still there—I was quite disappointed to see them. I suppose they will not go away as I had hoped. It makes me wonder what they are eating for breakfast. I bet they raided everything they could from . . .”

  Uzziel did not get the last sentence fully out before Miriam placed a hand on his arm, and he remembered to breathe.

  “Sorry, dear. I’m so hungry!”

  “I am glad . . . very glad, that I made extra today. Would you like some eggs? Isn’t it a beautiful day?” Miriam brushed her auburn hair out of her eyes with the back of her hand. Her question was sincere, yet hollow, like an echo in an empty barrel. She didn’t wait for answers to either question. She placed four plates on the table and dished out scrambled eggs before Uzziel even had time to say, “Yes, thank you.”

  Josiah and Abram were both young, strong men. Neither seemed to be married, or at least Uzziel did not think they were. But at one point in their breakfast conversation, Abram mentioned that his wife Esther had recently given birth to his first child, a boy. He commented on the wonderful blessings that had come into his life, expressing his desire never to lose them.

  Uzziel was genuinely happy for Abram, but the conversation died as his eyes knowingly met Miriam’s. The charade Uzziel and Miriam had been playing was too difficult to keep up any longer, and a palpable despair settled over the couple. Josiah tried to comfort them.

  “Your daughter will be fine. Surely the Great Creator will keep her safe.”

  Uzziel sighed. “Yes, I pray that He will.” He reached for Miriam’s hands. They were cold, and she shivered as he pulled her closer. Dread clouded her eyes.

  “My dear little Uzzah . . . I cannot lose another. . .” Miriam whispered.

  “Miriam,” Uzziel said with a tremor in his voice. “Rachel will come back to us.”

  Their eyes held each other’s for a long time, then Miriam stood, sniffling.

  “Your food is going to get cold,” she chided as she returned to serving.

  Josiah and Abram proved to have the ravenous appetites of youth. They cleared every serving bowl or platter of bread, fruit, eggs, and other items placed before them. Uzziel ate slowly, privately worrying about his daughter.

  Abram wiped his mouth on his napkin and sincerely thanked the lady of the house for the wonderful meal and for inviting them to partake without any prior notice. Uzziel apologized again to his wife and kissed her hand as he rose from his seat, making her blush. Josiah and Abram stood as Uzziel hugged Miriam close to him.

  “Rachel will be fine . . . she will be fine!” he whispered in her ear, trying to be optimistic.

  Miriam sniffed.

  “My prayers are with you,” Josiah said.

  “And mine,” Abram added.

  “I am most grateful for those prayers,” Miriam said as she escorted them to the door. “I’m praying too.”

  The soldiers followed the temple priest out as Miriam shut the door, and Uzziel led the way back down the street. At the first intersection, they turned to the right onto Marketway, a cobblestone road higher on the sides than in the middle, a natural drainage ditch in the center. Waste water trickled downstream, carrying an occasional food scrap or piece of straw with it. Although the street was a permanent marketplace, most of the small tents and stands were not yet open on account of the early hour. Even though they were just passing through, Uzziel either waved or briefly chatted with almost every person they met, but Josiah and Abram were patient.

  Leaving the marketplace, they crossed a large court, fenced in by buildings on two sides and a massive wall on the north end. Walls of brick and stone provided an immovable complement to the animal pens bordering the wide courtyard, all of which were filled to capacity with sheep destined for the temple just beyond the archway in the high wall. The sheep here were not tended by street vendors, but rather by priests who had the rotating assignment to care for them. All the temple herds had been gathered into the city when news of the approaching armies arrived, and once the courtyard pens had been stocked, the remaining animals were driven into the Karmel-Ramathaim Canyon to graze. There, they would be guarded until the hillsides around the city were again safe.

  Arriving at the archway, the high priest and his bodyguards passed underneath and into view of the glorious white granite temple that loomed before them. Each stone used to build the magnificent structure was much lighter, even almost white, compared to the gray granite blocks used in every other wall or building of the city. The walls of the temple were smooth and somewhat reflective, but not so shiny that Aqua and Azure could be discerned in their surfaces. The blue orbs were just high enough in the sky to illuminate most of the temple grounds, which were no less striking than the building itself. Trees with ornately braided trunks, well-groomed shrubs, a stunning fountain on the west end of the plaza, and immense flower beds framed the building on all sides, except for the eastern porch. This area, an expanse larger than the temple itself, had been paved with gray granite flagstones so finely cut, so expertly coupled together, that a person would find it difficult to insert a knife blade between the stones.

  The raised porch stood three steps above the rest of the grounds. At its center stood the Rock of Sacrifice—an altar
that had been cut from a single massive block of white granite. At the time of the temple’s construction, it took a thousand men and several teams of horses to move the block down from the special quarry in the Karmel-Ramathaim Canyon. Stonemasons worked for several weeks on the rock to shape it, the craftsmanship unparalleled.

  The altar featured recessed stairs to reach the top from the west, a large central depression for the fires that burned there every day, wide slots on the other three sides to allow for stoking the flames with additional cedar planks, and an iron grate seated into hewn notches in the top, providing the level surface where the sacrifices would be offered. Each corner of the symmetrical platform also had been carved into the shape of an ox horn—a symbol of both the sacrifices offered there and the Tribe of Uzzah.

  Directly east of the Rock of Sacrifice was an octagon-shaped laver, or font, fed and drained by unseen aqueducts beneath the flagstones. Built into the platform, the recessed font enabled those who came for the ritual washing by immersion, or baptism, to descend into it. It was large enough for the priest and the initiate both to stand in the waist-deep water, where they could perform the ordinance without fear of striking the sides of the font.

  From the vantage point of the Rock or the font, an observer could gaze up at the single temple spire. It towered far above the hand-carved oak entrance, reaching for the suns. The stepped, cylindrical spire was the most impressive feature of the structure, and the top-most cylinder had been crafted from small, white granite blocks, intermingled with large, exceptionally wide glow-stones from the Hasor mines. The natural prism-like surfaces of the glow-stones spilled rainbow colors and bright shafts of light all around the complex. The capstone of the spire held both stone and crystal together—a semi-globe of pure gold that dazzled the eyes of anyone looking thereon.

  Uzziel would never tire of the temple. Gazing upon it brought such deep and poignant feelings to him, he always felt inclined to smile and say a prayer of thanks in his heart for the beauty of it.

  Now at the second hour of the day, a group of temple priests arrived to begin their duties. One of the more senior members of the group broke off from the others and approached Uzziel with obvious excitement to see him.

  “Boaz!” the high priest greeted as the man approached.

  “Peace be to you, Uzziel! What word have you had from the Captain of the Host?”

  Uzziel put his hand on his friend’s shoulder and said with some consternation, “I have not spoken to Jeremy this morning, but I fear the outlook will not be good. I went upon the outer wall just as the suns were rising, but could not see the progress being made on the trenches. I would guess, from what I saw yesterday, that there may be only one more day before Gideon is close enough to use the machines.”

  Boaz scratched his beard as Uzziel released him. “I’ll join you at the wall with my own bow, if you wish.”

  “I know you would. But for now, we’ll leave the battle to the younger warriors,” Uzziel said with a wink.

  Boaz gave a low chuckle and patted Uzziel’s arm. “You’re right. My eyes are not as sharp as they were yesterday.”

  Uzziel laughed with him for a moment, but then became grave. “Boaz, I came to tell you that I got word from a pair of our scouts, who returned last night under the cover of darkness. They confirmed that both Hasor and Saron have been taken.” He paused, then said, “I fear there will not be any assistance from Daniel.” His eyes misted.

  “I have feared the same,” Boaz acknowledged, a tremble in his voice.

  Both were silent for a moment. Josiah and Abram glanced at each other, but said nothing.

  Uzziel took a deep breath. He needed to remain positive. “All will be well. The Holy One will give us aid.”

  “We’ve been praying for such aid,” Boaz said. “We have also been praying for your children. Please take courage, Uzziel.”

  “Thank you, my dearest friend,” Uzziel said, a fresh tear tumbling down his cheek. There was another awkward silence, and then Uzziel spoke to Josiah and Abram.

  “We must be going, my friends.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Boaz said goodbye and trudged toward the entrance of the temple, his head low as he went.

  Chapter 21

  Siege

  That day passed, and the auroras of the season burned across the skies once again during the night. Uzziel did not sleep well. All night long, he searched through wooded mountains and called out for his children in his dreams. None of them answered.

  The first signs of light appeared behind the thin curtains of his bedroom window, and Uzziel awoke to find he was holding Miriam close. She did not stir. He lay there, his mind churning over the scenes he had witnessed the previous afternoon. He had watched the progress of the Gideonite advance—slow, yet constant, the enemy never tiring. By day’s end, they had come considerably closer to their goal of bringing their siege weapons to an attack position within range of the outer city wall.

  Uzziel gently pulled his arm out from under Miriam’s neck and dressed in silence. He left just before dawn to meet Josiah and Abram at the base of the outer wall. A fire-pit stood near the stone stairway by the outer gates—one fire among many scattered between the inner and outer walls. In addition to the soldiers assigned to protect the high priest, ten more Uzzahite warriors were present, each nursing steaming hot cider.

  “Peace be to you, Priest of Uzzah,” came their formal greeting.

  “And to you, my sons.” He tried to hide the sorrow in his voice. “Have you heard the enemy stirring this morning?”

  “Not yet,” Josiah said.

  “Then let us get to the top and see if we can wake them up. I brought a nice big torch-arrow to light their morning,” Uzziel said, attempting to be playful.

  Abram set down his mug with a wide grin, and grabbed his bow. Uzziel handed him the arrow. Josiah yanked a cold torch from a holder near the fire and lit it before handing it to the high priest. Uzziel invited the other soldiers to stay behind to finish their breakfast, and motioned for Josiah to lead the way. The three of them walked to the familiar stairway and began the ascent. As they climbed, they could see Azure and Aqua just peeking over the western heights of Bald Mountain, bathing the entire valley in bright light. It was going to be a beautiful, clear day.

  Once they attained the walkway, they huddled behind the merlons for a few seconds before venturing a peek below. What Uzziel saw nearly took his breath away. Somehow during the night, and without the knowledge of the patrols of Ramathaim, the Gideonite army had succeeded in bringing one of their siege engines within striking distance of the wall. The catapult was hidden beneath a camouflage of brush.

  As he watched, a contingent of Gideonites uncovered the catapult, while other enemy soldiers stood by with bows ready. None of them paid any attention to the top of the wall, and the three spying Uzzahites were not noticed before they had a chance to duck behind the parapets again.

  Josiah said in a whisper, “They don’t realize they’ve been seen. Let us light our arrow. We’ll send it as a gift and make the siege engine burn!”

  Eager to comply, Abram nocked the arrow, and Uzziel put flame to it. Abram waited a few moments to let the fire encompass the entire tip, and then swung around to the nearest crenel, letting the arrow loose.

  It was nearly to the target before the Gideonite soldiers reacted to the tell-tale whistle. They yelled in alarm when the arrow firmly embedded itself in the exact center of the catapult’s throwing arm. Several scrambled out of the way and sent their own arrows flying toward the wall, but much too late to hit any mark. One man yanked the arrow from the catapult arm and stomped on it to extinguish the flame. Only a singed streak was left behind on the war machine.

  “I think we should get off the wall!” Uzziel chuckled.

  Josiah assisted Abram to move Uzziel away from the parapet, then the three of them ducked out of sight and bounded down the stairs from which they had come. The other Uzzahite warriors at the fire-pit were now a
rmed. One soldier stepped forward, introduced himself as Samuel, and offered a large shield. He insisted that Uzziel walk under it, and helped Josiah and Abram to hold it above the high priest’s head. They hurried across the grassy court and up the ramped road to the protecting inner wall of Ramathaim. They darted through the open gate, and Uzziel thanked Samuel, who then dismissed himself. A loud crash and rumble came from the direction they had just come.

  “They’ve used the machine!” Abram exclaimed.

  Without comment, Uzziel ran back out and stood next to Samuel. Josiah and Abram caught up with him, and the four of them watched as a flood of Uzzahite warriors assembled from every direction, helmets and shields flashing in the morning rays. With amazing speed, the troops fell into columns, with arrows ready. A spotter on the wall signaled the direction of the catapult and provided the archers with directional angle for their aim, and then he dropped his other arm as if it were a mallet. Like lightning striking from the heavens, a volley of arrows—some flaming and some not—arced over the outer wall. They heard screams in the distance, and the spotter reported that many of the projectiles had found their mark.

  In perfect harmony, each of the Uzzahite warriors lifted a shield from the ground to create a protective ceiling over themselves. Just as they had anticipated, a return volley whistled over the wall and bounced like pebbles thrown all around them. Again, the shields were dropped, and another strike was delivered by the Uzzahite archers. The spotter on the wall signaled that the catapult was now unprotected.

  Twenty archers with flaming arrows assembled on the wall. After three swift salvos, the spotter signaled that the machine burned. The warriors’ loud cheer burst skyward. Uzziel leaned forward, straining to see for himself if the spotter’s report was true, his heart pounding in his chest. Like a leaf caught in a sudden gust of wind, a pillar of smoke rose over the wall. Uzziel danced.