The Thorn tcog-1

by Daron Fraley

  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 inche
d 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!

  Chapter 6

  Rescue

  The band passed Jonathan’s location, wending its way southward down the forest path. Jonathan’s mind raced with numerous options. The instant he committed to leaving, an impression came into his mind- rescue Eli. His whole body surged with adrenaline as he dropped from the cliff ledge onto the dead oak branch below, and climbed down the old tree to the ground.

  The Gideonites marched about two hundred paces ahead of him now, and he darted between the trees, using them as cover so he could approach the group undetected. Jonathan closed the distance to fifty paces and could see they had reached a familiar open glade of the forest. As the group moved into the clearing, he realized his own cover would soon be lost.

  The sky above was starting to turn from its deep blue of the day to the dark color of violet-a stunning backdrop to the few wispy clouds in the east, edged in scarlet and pink. The long shadows in the glade from the eastern tree line pointed to a grassy hill on the western side of the clearing. There, the trail split just before passing the hill, where it continued both south and west to rise over the hill itself.

  Jonathan paused at the edge of the trees, brushed his dark gray cloak to one side, and impulsively whisked an arrow from his quiver. He pulled it back, making the bowstring taut.

  What am I doing? Am I so eager to die?

  Rescue Eli. The voice was quiet, but firm.

  Jonathan obeyed. He stepped to one side of the trail, staying close to a tree for cover, and yelled to the Gideonites.

  “Stop!”

  The band jerked about and faced him. One of the soldiers grabbed the rope looped around Eli’s neck with both hands to keep him from running. Seven dark ravens stared at Jonathan with gleaming eyes from hardened leather breastplates, and swords were drawn in an instant. Two of the men began to reach for arrows to fill their bows, but Jonathan yelled again.

  “Stop! Do not reach for those arrows, or you are dead men! Release the prisoner at once if you wish to live!”

  The soldiers froze as if with indecision, not knowing what to do. Several of the men stared in earnest at one man who appeared to be their captain, awaiting his instructions. The Gideonite put out his hand, signaling the archers to hold, and glared at Jonathan.

  “Who are you?” the soldier sneered.

  Jonathan directed the tip of his arrow at the chest of the tall, strong man and studied him. The armored Gideonite had hardened leather guards strapped to his legs and arms and wore a leather cap edged in red. Jonathan recognized the dark, blood-red wool that confirmed this man served as a captain.

  “It does not matter who I am,” Jonathan replied with a loud voice. “Release the man at once, or you will die! You have caused enough death and destruction, and I will not stand for any more suffering at your hands. I do not wish to shed your blood, but I will do so if you do not comply!”

  The captain laughed. “I can see you are alone,” he ridiculed. “And you seem to be outnumbered. Any one of my men will kill you at my command. I suggest you put down your bow and surrender to me at once!”

  Jonathan pulled the bowstring to his chin, causing the large wooden bow to creak under the tension.

  “Release him or die!” Jonathan warned again. “You have offended both God and man, and I will send you to your eternal judgment if you do not obey!”

  For a moment, the captain paused as if he feared the promise. Then he welled up with anger and commanded, “ Kill him!”

  Jonathan’s hands followed his eyes to the archers, who had already nocked arrows onto their bowstrings. Before they could draw, Jonathan let his first arrow fly, striking one of them squarely in the chest with such force that it pierced the hardened breastplate of the soldier, throwing him back into a patch of purple and red wildflowers. With great speed and agility, Jonathan went down on one knee, nocking another arrow in the process, and struck the second archer in the neck, causing the archer’s drawn arrow to misfire wildly upward as he fell into a lifeless heap on the ground.

  Jonathan saw Eli in motion, throwing his jailer to the turf with a shoulder butt, hard enough to make the man gasp for air. Still hampered by his bonds, all Eli could do now was duck while staggering away from the group. Another soldier charged his former prisoner with a drawn sword. Jonathan pulled another arrow and let it loose. The soldier fell with an arrow lodged deep into his exposed side before he had run another five feet.

  Fearing again for Eli’s safety, Jonathan targeted the soldier closest to his escaping friend. The man fell, mortally wounded, near the Gideonite captain’s feet.

  Vile hatred seethed from the captain’s eyes. When a raspy moan caught the captain’s attention and he bent to slit the dying man’s throat, the unexpected cruelty of the scene startled Jonathan, making his anger boil. He stepped forward, nocking another arrow.

  The captain saw Jonathan draw and let out a deranged scream. Jonathan tensed as the man charged, closely followed by the last standing soldier. Fearing he would have to deal with two of them at once, Jonathan took down the second soldier with two successive arrows. The Gideonite captain almost upon him, Johathan dropped the bow to the ground.

  Jonathan stood, unsheathed his crystal sword in one motion, and blocked the captain’s striking blow. The Gideonite’s sword sparked, and a chunk of the steel blade ricocheted to the ground. The captain reeled to the left. He began another swing directed at Jonathan’s exposed head, but Jonathan ducked and rolled, and then with tremendous strength, he thrust his crystal blade with full force up at the captain’s midsection, just under the breastplate. Jonathan withdrew the sword and jumped back, planting his stance with his weapon ready.

  The Gideonite captain went pale, gaping in amazement as the bloodstained lining of his armor went from dark, reddish-brown to a bright, wet scarlet. He gasped for air and then tumbled face-first to the ground.

  By this time, the last remaining Gideonite had recovered his breath, and he ran toward Jonathan with a waving sword. Jonathan met him with a swift blow, striking the soldier’s blade. The steel snapped in half with a sound like a hammer on an anvil. The soldier recoiled, fear in his eyes. Jonathan followed his gaze and saw that he stared at the crystal blade flashing blue and red in the late evening light. The soldier dropped his broken weapon to the ground and retreated a few more steps.

  Not wanting to let the opportunity go, Jonathan lunged forward and placed the faceted tip of his sword directly on the eye of the raven painted on the man’s polished breastplate.

  “Why did you not listen to me?” Jonathan asked, full of anger.

  The soldier quaked in terror. As if his tongue had been bound, he did not speak a single word. His eyes were wide, and he kept glancing down at the strange, clear blade poking his chest.

  Jonathan tried to catch his breath. He noticed that a still-fettered Eli approached the soldier from behind. The broad grin on Eli’s face widened into an unmistakable sign of joy, his white teeth framed by a red beard. Eli hobbled forward in restraining shackles which prevented him from taking more than half-strides. Jonathan thought Eli looked like a big bear tangled in vines, lumbering through the grass in the dimming light of the evening. The sight of Eli’s struggle stole all the anger Jonathan had left. Even though his chest still heaved from exertion, Jonathan smiled widely.

  He turned back again to scrutinize the eyes of the Gideonite soldier, and saw deep within them a man not yet hardened by war.
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br />   “What’s your name?” Jonathan asked in a much softer tone than before.

  “Pekah,” came the halting reply.

  Jonathan studied the face of the soldier to get a sense of his character. Pekah’s face was young and fair, clean-shaven in the fashion of the Gideonite soldiers, with a short and unobtrusive nose, rounded chin, and dark brown eyes. His wavy black hair intensified the fairness of his complexion. Jonathan guessed Pekah could not have been much more than twenty-two years old.

  In contrast with the fallen captain, Pekah did not seem to have the lust for murder and destruction in his countenance. His bright eyes weren’t dimmed, like those who had seen too much death. They did, however, show evidence of fear. Jonathan felt sorry for him.

  Still holding his sword at the Gideonite’s chest, Jonathan briefly turned to check for other soldiers. When he looked back, he saw something else in Pekah’s face, but couldn’t make it out. Perhaps surprise? Jonathan thought.

  “Pekah, I am-”

  “Nate,” interrupted the deep voice of his friend, who had now joined them. “His name is Nate.”

  Jonathan grinned at the use of Eli’s nickname for him. “Yes, I’m Nate,” Jonathan said as he lowered his sword to his side.

  Pekah relaxed with the blade tip now off his chest.

  “Although you and your fallen friends attempted to kill me, I don’t wish to shed your blood,” Jonathan said. “I won’t permit you, however, to continue your war against my people. If you covenant with me that you will lay down your weapons of war and return to your home in peace, I will spare your life.”

  Pekah did not answer. Jonathan sensed a renewed fear in the soldier.

  “Again, I swear to you, as I am granted breath by our God and Creator, that I will spare your life and release you, if you will but heed my request and give me your promise upon your very honor.”