The Chronicles of Gan: The Thorn

by Daron Fraley

  Chapter 22

  Plans

  Familiar sights of industry bordering the river told Jonathan they were very close to Saron, city of the plains. Flowing northward from the direction of the Geber Pass, the Saron River held both gristmills and lumber mills upon its grassy shoulders. Each appeared to be untended, although water wheels continually sloshed in the river.

  Jonathan stood in the stirrups, but a gentle rise before the advancing army still hid their destination from view. Even though he could not see the city with his eyes, he remembered its charming characteristics well—a tiny blue lake fed by a spring at its center that eventually emptied by way of canal into the river, wandering streets paved with brown bricks, round adobe buildings with thatched roofs, and small parks of trees where the citizens could gather to socialize in the evenings.

  Quaint as it may seem to a visitor, Saron was in reality a very busy place. Artisan shops of every variety, markets for commodities and handcrafted wares, bustling bakeries, storehouses, and especially the efficient mills drew the masses to Saron, transforming it into a center of trade and industry. Jonathan had been there many times himself. Every day, apart from the Sabbath, scores from each tribe would arrive to sell their goods and purchase needed items. Sometimes the streets were so clogged with people, Jonathan could barely move, but he didn’t mind. He was used to the crowds.

  As the army crested the hill, Jonathan could see Saron sprawled out before him. It spread across the rolling plain like the branches of a fruit tree—some portions dense, and others mere offshoots. Seeing a particular area of the city where he had done business before, he pointed out the familiar location to Rachel, who rode next to him. Engrossed in conversation, Jonathan hardly noticed crossing the rest of the distance from the hill.

  When they gained the outskirts of the city, they found themselves near one of the livestock trading areas. Daniel, Uzzah, and Gideon always traded with each other in Saron—it was a completely natural and common sight. But now Jonathan stared in wonder at the gathered throng near animal pens where the proud banners of Gideon, Daniel, and Uzzah flapped together in the breeze. Only the colors of Daniel had ever flown there before.

  Jonathan guessed that the messengers dispatched earlier in the morning had gathered the crowd when he recognized one of them rushing to greet Jasher, who now rode nearby. The soldier saluted as he approached.

  “General Jasher, the city has been secured. All prisoners have been released. They await your arrival.”

  “Excellent!” the general replied. “And our men?”

  “All patrols have been called in. They have been informed.”

  Jasher hailed the crowd that had swelled into hundreds, then waved the army forward, leading the way. Many people along the roadside lifted their hands to touch the riders as they went by. Once at the center of the throng, the general raised his arm, and the procession came to a stop. After the crowd quieted, Jasher shared the events of past days. Even though he had heard the story before, Jonathan listened intently.

  “My brothers from Daniel and Uzzah, it is my desire to end this war,” Jasher said as he finished recounting what had happened in Ain. “I now ride with Jonathan of Daniel and many of your friends from the northern cities of Uzzah. Saron is free. You may return to your homes—but I need the help of those who are able. Together we are strong. We must stop General Rezon. Will you join me?”

  The crowd cheered. Many able-bodied men stepped forward and pledged their support.

  Jasher again waved them onward, and the entire crowd followed. Many of the Danielite residents of Saron, freed by Jasher’s arrival, peeled off from the entourage to return to their homes. Progress through the city slowed. Excited children ran to and fro through the crowd. One child rushed up to her home and hugged the adobe walls before entering with her mother. The sight of her happiness thrilled Jonathan. He caught Rachel looking over at him with a sparkle in her eye, and he winked at her.

  When Jasher turned onto the road to Hasor, Azure and Aqua were burning high in the sky. The army halted for a much-needed rest. This allowed others to catch up, including the many men of Saron who had previously departed to check on their homes. They returned bearing additional provisions and weapons. Only those with young families stayed behind, but word came that they had committed to assist the families of those who were leaving, making the cause of peace a communal effort.

  After loosing their horses to graze upon the slopes bordering the road, Jonathan stood upon a small hill with his friends and surveyed the scene. Amongst the crowd he could see banners representing every tribe—the green and white of Gideon, the purple and white of Daniel, and the blue and white of Uzzah. A gentle breeze made them all wave proudly. Underneath the high banners, the gathered multitude appeared as dew upon the grass. Jonathan smiled.

  Jasher approached and pulled Amon aside, but not out of hearing range. Jonathan watched with interest as Amon received orders from the general.

  “Place, or find, captains of fifty within each tribe,” Jasher directed. “Then place over every three captains a more senior captain to lead them all.”

  “You wish to make units of one hundred and fifty?” Amon verified.

  “Yes. And I want to mix the tribes. Three groups of fifty—one from each tribe.”

  “Very well, sir. We have enough from Uzzah to form perhaps three or four of these units, but not more. What do you wish to do with the rest of Daniel and Gideon?”

  “You may mix them in a similar fashion, I suppose, but with two groups of fifty from each of the tribes.”

  “And their colors? Do you wish each fifty to fly their own?”

  “Precisely. When we find Rezon, I want him to see what has been done. I want him to see The Brothers together and be surprised. Astonishment—that is what I am after. What do you suppose Rezon will think when he sees us?”

  Amon laughed. “I know what I would think.” He saluted, then departed to relay the orders to the other captains. Jasher walked off with his entourage of messengers and aides in tow.

  “How far is Hasor from here?” Pekah asked.

  “Slightly farther than you made me march the day before the Suns’ Crossing.” Eli grinned from ear to ear. When Pekah began to laugh, Eli shouldered him off balance as he had on the day of his rescue, and chuckled.

  “Don’t hurt my bodyguard,” Jonathan scolded.

  Rachel drew close and took his hand in hers. “Your bodyguard?” she asked.

  Pekah’s face reddened.

  “Rachel,” Jonathan said as he gestured toward the young Gideonite, “Pekah saved my life. The day before you and I were reunited, we came upon a Gideonite soldier who was not happy about the three of us traveling together. Pekah stepped in front of an arrow meant for me.”

  Pointing to the small dent and crack in Pekah’s breastplate, Jonathan added, “Here is the testament to his deed.”

  Rachel leaned forward to see it better, then looked up at Pekah, her eyes wide. “You weren’t hurt?”

  Shaking his head, Pekah said, “Only a scratch.”

  Rachel gave him a warm smile. “The Great King rewarded your selfless act by protecting your life. You are very brave.”

  Embarrassed, Pekah looked away, but replied, “Thank you.”

  Jonathan’s attention was diverted by two Danielite women making their way through the crowds of soldiers. He couldn’t make out what the taller woman said, but she held something, showing it to everyone. Each person she approached responded, “I’m sorry, I have not.”

  Once the women were close enough, Jonathan could discern what the woman had in her hand. Both of the women recognized Jonathan and bowed their heads in respect.

  “Jonathan, Son of Samuel, please help me,” the taller woman pleaded. “We are looking for our husbands. My husband is Benjamin, son of Daniel . . .”

  “And mine is Simeon, son of Saul,” said the other. “Benjamin is wearing a token like this on his quiver.”

  The lace ribbon she held match
ed the one found on the Danielite soldier’s quiver strap just outside of Ain on the road from Gilad. Jonathan swallowed. “Yes. I have seen them, my dear ladies.”

  At first their eyes lit up with excitement, but when they saw Jonathan’s countenance, fear clouded their faces.

  Jonathan carefully reached into the hidden pocket beneath his tunic and pulled the forgotten items from safe-keeping. He opened his hand, revealing a tight roll of lace, hair sticking out both ends. Next to it was a beautiful silver ring, a small lock of hair attached.

  The sight made the women gasp. One of them was so shocked, she seemed to be frozen in place. The taller woman’s hand trembled as she took the lace from Jonathan’s open hand and stared at it in disbelief. Tears welled up in her eyes. She searched her companion’s eyes, and the two of them embraced, sobbing uncontrollably.

  Rachel wept with them.

  About this time, Abigail returned from an errand, smiling and happy, but she stilled as she witnessed the mood of the group. Seeing Rachel trying to console the women, she joined them, asking what she could do to help.

  Jonathan still held the ring. Rachel whispered with a sniffle, “Let me give it to her. Do you mind?”

  He placed it in her hand. Tears from Rachel’s eyes fell into his beard as she kissed him on the cheek. He did not bother to brush them off, but Rachel noticed and did it for him.

  Making their way a few paces off, the men left the women alone to talk, but still watched over them. Abigail seemed to offer words of comfort. After a while, the crying stopped, and the women talked in low voices. Jonathan saw one of the women staring at her keepsake of ribbon. He thought about his actions in the forest, grateful he’d had the presence of mind to retrieve the belongings. He wondered if the women ever would have known what happened to their husbands if he hadn’t noticed that ribbon.

  Somber, Jonathan and the others made their way over to several horse carts that had arrived with provisions. After taking a few bags of the items being distributed, the men found a place to sit on a hill by the road. They ate in silence as they watched the women talk.

  Tavor frowned. He cleared his throat. “Eli, what should be done with Rachel when we get to Hasor? The battlefield is not really a place for her.”

  Jonathan agreed.

  “If Rachel is told what to do,” Eli explained, “she will probably do the opposite, out of spite. Whatever we decide, Rachel will have to be asked. Gently asked.”

  “Eli’s right,” Jonathan said. “Rachel’s not going to like being left behind. At the same time, I don’t want to leave her in Hasor alone. There may be scouting troops from Rezon’s army patrolling around.”

  “What do you think about the oak tree in the woods?” Eli asked with a wink.

  Tavor’s eyes lit up.

  Jonathan knew Tavor had been to the secret cave, long ago when all of them were still young men. To Jonathan’s knowledge, Tavor had never told a soul of the cave’s existence.

  “Why a tree?” Pekah asked.

  “Well, there’s a safe place to hide near the tree,” Jonathan said.

  “But we are the only three who know how to get there,” Tavor interrupted. “One of us would have to take her, but it would be improper for Jonathan or me to take her there alone. It will have to be you, Eli, or the entire group.”

  Eli nudged a stone with his foot. “I’ll take her,” he grumbled. “She’s going to like it even less than I will. My place is with you, Jonathan.”

  “Thank you, Eli,” Jonathan said. He sighed, staring up at the scattered clouds drifting far above, which partially obscured Azure and Aqua from sight. He wanted Eli and his nine Uzzahite warriors to stay close by, but did not feel comfortable having Rachel as part of the advancing war party. He wondered how Rachel would react when told Eli would take her into hiding. The thought made him wince.

  Chapter 23

  Hasor

  Absolutely not!” Rachel declared. “I will not be left in Hasor to wonder what has happened to my brother or my betrothed! I’ve had that uncomfortable experience once already this week, and I don’t care to have another!”

  Both Eli and Tavor flinched. Jonathan wanted to argue the point, but the smoldering flame in Rachel’s brown eyes made him think better of it.

  Once the men had been silenced, Rachel said, “Besides, I want to be near the battle this time. I can help the wounded. I can encourage them.”

  Jonathan relented. There was no way he could deny her, and he knew Eli couldn’t force her. “Rachel—thank you. The men will be grateful for your service.”

  Her face still red, Rachel searched his eyes. “Good!” She mounted her steed, her look smug.

  “Move out!” Amon gave the command above the crowd.

  Jasher tromped up to the men and took Jonathan privately aside.

  “I want you and your companions to ride with me near the banners of the tribes, if that’s acceptable.”

  “It’s an honor,” Jonathan said as he tightened his Gideonite breastplate.

  Once again, Jonathan’s ears filled with the rumble of hooves, a dust cloud rising above the riders. With the beautiful weather they were having, it seemed more like a family outing than a march to battle, but those false perceptions faded as the day dragged on. Several places along the Hasor road still exhibited signs of recent battles. Fresh gravesites reminded them all of the seriousness of their quest.

  * * *

  Late in the evening, the walled village of Hasor came into view. Jonathan pulled the reins back when Jasher signaled the advance units to halt. Far in the distance, just north of the village and outside its walls, loomed an exposed camp of Gideonites. Campfires there already burned, smoke drifting high into the air.

  Jonathan retrieved his spyglass to get a better view of the enemy. Jasher did the same. Jonathan admired the general’s spyglass—ends of polished brass, cylinders of beautiful cherry wood, three telescoping sections—then lifted his own two-section scope, placing the sight to his eye.

  The enemy camp was small, its soldiers easy to count. Jonathan estimated the band to be about forty men, none of whom paid any attention to the road from Saron. Finished counting, he reached to give Pekah the spyglass so he could look. Pekah scanned the camp briefly, then handed the scope back.

  Jasher cleared his throat. In a low voice to his captains, he said, “Thus it begins . . .”

  Chapter 24

  Messenger

  Somewhere over the walls of Ramathaim, a cock crowed. The sound caused Rezon to roll over in his bedding with a groan. His head still hurt from the night before when he had spent the evening with his captains and drunk far too much. He pushed his sandy brown hair out of his eyes and stared up at the top of his center tent pole. He could just make it out in the growing light, surmising that the suns were about to appear over the western peaks of the Hara Range.

  With some effort, he sat up and reached for the clean clothing lying on a stool near his bed of piled furs and blankets. He stood to dress. As he cinched his sword belt, he heard shouting in the camp. A posted guard popped in to report, giving a smart salute and then delivering his message like a springtime downpour.

  “General Rezon, the catapult we pushed into position during the night has been attacked. Before we could use it, the Uzzahites saw it. It’s burning. A few men were injured, but none were killed.”

  Rezon’s mouth twisted into a scowl. “Was it not protected?”

  The guard stammered as he tried to describe the protections put in place, but gave up trying to excuse the incident. “Yes, but Uzzah hit us too hard and too fast.”

  Rezon waved the soldier away, who saluted as he was dismissed. He reached for a crust of bread on his table, left over from the day before, and washed it down with the final drops in his wineskin. Temporarily satisfied, he loudly called for assistance. One of his captains entered the tent, bearing some hot breakfast. At the sight of the fresh eggs, fruit, and cheese, Rezon wondered why he had finished off the old bread.

  �
��Gad,” Rezon said with a growl, “what is being done about the attack?”

  Gad set the tray on the table. “Another two hundred men have been stationed to assist the front line. Five more catapults are being readied for use, and they will be pushed into position at the same time. I do not think Uzzah can stop them all.”

  A smirk formed on the general’s face, but changed to a frown. He glared at Gad as if the captain were at fault for the previous mishaps with the siege engines. Gad stiffened.

  “I will make sure they do not,” Rezon swore.

  Gad left the tent, and Rezon sat to eat his breakfast. After pushing the empty plate away, he took the opportunity to inspect himself in a hand mirror. He retrieved his leather headband to pull his hair back, and then straightened the hem of his red tunic under his belt. The color of red on this first day of battle was intentional. He moved the mirror around to get a complete view, thinking that red did look good with his soot-colored cloak and black leather pants.

  As he stood there admiring his appearance, his mind drifted to thoughts of his mother. He had her features. Even his sandy-brown hair color was similar to hers. He remembered her kindness—she had always been so patient. Rezon turned his face to the side, searching for some of her better traits. Perhaps they were there, but he couldn’t see them.

  More like my father every day. He sometimes hated himself for that. His father had been a cruel, harsh man. Why can I not be more like my mother? His self-analysis always came to the same conclusion: People are weak. They do not understand kindness. They respond better to other methods.

  Rezon shook the memories away.

  My mother was weak.

  He left the tent and looked past six other captains, who stood nearby, to see that the sister suns were well above the tall, round-topped mountain fronting the western slopes. He turned to inspect his best men and expressed his satisfaction. Girded for battle, their leather caps edged in bloodstained wool matched the exposed bottom linings of polished leather breastplates, each painted with the Raven of Gideon. Most of the breastplates were also adorned with jewels or trimmed with gold. The captains saluted in unison with hands raised high, and the general acknowledged them.