by Daron Fraley
“So be it,” Amon replied. “I understand that your oath to Jonathan of Daniel still remains. They are leaving tomorrow to find Rezon. I assume you are well enough to travel with them?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you, Pekah,” Jonathan said.
“I plan to remain here for at least two days,” Amon said. “I’m meeting with the Council of Ramathaim tomorrow. Uzziel invited me to attend. I will then return to Gideon before Rezon can, should he attempt to do so. I’m taking documents of treaty from Uzzah and Daniel, and once I have presented them before a newly formed Council of Gideon-and forming this council will surely need to be done, now that Manasseh does not lead-then, I hope to return to witness the Anointing.”
“Anointing?” Pekah asked, appearing confused.
Eli looked at Jonathan, checking for his permission. Jonathan gave a nod.
“Pekah,” Eli said, “now that this conflict is over, Daniel remains without a judge and king. Samuel is dead, and Jonathan is the heir. He will be made king and judge over Daniel.”
“And my desire,” Amon added, “is that when I return to Gideon with the hopes of The Brothers in my heart, they will side with me, and war will cease between us forever. Gideon will remain a free people, just as Uzzah and Daniel, but…” Amon trailed off, folding his arms. With emotion, he finished. “I want Gideon to join with Daniel, just as Uzzah has done. Separate, yet supporting. To counsel with, and to assist. I want the pains and prejudices to be no more. I have seen how Uzzah and Daniel live in peace. I want nothing less for Gideon.”
Jonathan’s chest tightened, deeply touched by Amon’s statement. “General, thank you,” he said. “I wish for the same peace between our peoples. But somehow-this time-it must be different. I don’t think it’s possible to keep this good feeling between The Brothers unless we are more involved with each other. For how many years have there been suspicions, tensions, unfounded rumors, and accusations between our peoples?”
Amon was thoughtful, but then he agreed. “There must be change, but I don’t know how to change it.”
“I do,” Jonathan said without hesitation, greatly excited by the opportunity to change the course of his kingdom. “Amon, you will surely sit on the Council of Gideon as General of the Host. I would expect nothing less. But will you also sit on my council? My father always had both Uzzah and Daniel in the twelve council seats of Hasor, six from each tribe-and they all shared their wisdom with a humble judge. But this arrangement is no longer sufficient. Would you join me by sitting on that council, one of four from Gideon, that all tribes might be represented equally?”
Amon’s face flushed. “Yes, I would be honored!”
“Also, I would like Captain Mehida to sit on the Council,” Jonathan said. “He has greatly impressed me. Do you think he would accept?”
“Of course I do. Mehida believes in the work that has been done to unite us. He’ll accept the charge with gladness.”
“The fourth seat, however, I cannot fill on my own. I don’t know who among Gideon is like unto Amon, and Mehida, and…” Jonathan then looked directly at his Gideonite friend, the one who had saved his life on the road to Ain. Being an only child, Jonathan never had a brother-Eli had been the closest thing to it. Jonathan now felt similar feelings growing for Pekah. “… and like unto Pekah,” Jonathan continued. “Pekah, will you sit with the Council? Your presence there would honor us all.”
Pekah’s face reddened. “ Me? I have no experience with these types of matters.”
“Experience can be both good and bad,” Jonathan said. “Isn’t Rezon experienced? He’s experienced in deception, ambition, and warfare. What I desire is an honest and true heart, one I can trust with my life. There is none better qualified.”
Pekah’s eyes were low. He did not answer at first. “I will serve, as requested,” he finally said, looking up.
Jonathan shook Pekah’s hand with vigorous congratulations and thanks.
Turning to Amon, Jonathan made one more request. “General, as I said before, I cannot choose the fourth. Please do me the favor-will you sit in council with Mehida and Pekah, and make an invitation to one you trust? Will you fill the seat for me?”
“We will,” Amon replied as he glanced at Pekah.
Now satisfied, Jonathan remembered there was still much to be done before the next day.
“Amon,” Jonathan began, “we’ll ride at the first hour of light in the morning, with as many riders as you can spare. I need some of Gideon’s faithful to identify those who escaped. Tavor’s men and Ezra’s men ride with me also.”
“I’ll attach a company of fifty to your contingent. Will that suffice? There cannot be more than twenty who escaped.”
“I believe you’re right. Although Rezon’s men have great skill riding in mountainous terrain, they should not be able to get far on foot. And I have the best archers of Uzzah with me.”
“Very well then, prepare your men, and fifty riders of Gideon will join you. They’ll meet you in front of the city gates at dawn.”
“Thank you, General.”
“No, thank you,” Amon answered. “Thank you for living this wonderful dream of a new day with me and my people. I’ve never had so much hope for the future.”
Jonathan shook the general’s hand as a friend, and they parted.
Chapter 34
Matched
Pekah wandered through the market, paying very little attention to the street vendors around him. Instead, he watched customers as they went about their business of choosing and haggling. Weary from spending eight days in the Hara Mountains with the cold ground for a bed and rations they rarely had time to warm up, he looked forward to a hot meal and a proper place to sleep. Once again he had been invited to stay with Eli’s family while in Ramathaim-and recent experience had taught him never to turn down the hospitality of Uzziel’s wife. Miriam was a fabulous cook.
I should bring something with me, he thought. He spotted a fruit and vegetable stand nearby that looked promising. After weaving between customers, he intended to survey the two well-organized racks, but his gaze locked on a large bin next to them, filled to overflowing with what looked to be fresh almonds.
Picking one up, he got the attention of the vendor, who brushed off his hands on a white apron. “Are the almonds from last year’s harvest?”
“No, these are the first fruits, just brought in from Karmel. They’re wonderful. Would you like a sample?”
“Please.”
The vendor dropped an almond into a slot between four sticks that had been banded together on one end, then gave the bundle a twist. The shell cracked easily. He tapped out a perfect, undamaged nut, handing it to Pekah.
Still chewing on the delicious almond, Pekah covered his mouth and said, “I’ll take two solars’ worth, please.” As he handed the man his coins, Pekah looked up to see Abigail across the street, her back to him. “Thank you, but could I have one more solar’s worth, please?”
The man obliged, and Pekah thanked him as he gripped his treasures, hurrying to be sure he wouldn’t lose Abigail in the crowd. He approached her from the side, giving her the opportunity to see him coming. Pekah didn’t want to surprise her. Although they had talked several times since the day Jonathan and Eli had literally raised him from the dead, he still felt a little uneasy around her, and expected her feelings were much the same.
“Hello, Abigail,” he said, catching her attention.
“Captain Pekah. Good afternoon.”
Pekah wished she wouldn’t be so formal with him. But he glanced down at his chest and realized he was still wearing armor, and his sword was strapped to his belt, both of which made him look very official. A dusty spot on his sleeve caught his eye, and he brushed it off. Then he remembered that it had been two days since he had been able to bathe, and he suddenly felt very self-conscious, even wishing he hadn’t approached her. He looked back to see she held a bulky reed basket on her shoulder, balancing it with both hands. It appeared to be he
avy.
“Could I help you with that?”
“I can manage,” she said flatly.
“I didn’t mean to insinuate that you couldn’t,” he said quickly. “I’m sorry.”
She held his gaze for a moment, her eyes searching his. She smiled. “Actually, it would be a help.”
Pekah grinned, handing her the two bags of almonds in trade for the basket. It was heavier than it looked. “Shopping for rocks?” he teased as he followed her down the street.
“Iron shot from the catapults. Mementos. I wanted a few for doorstops.”
Taken aback, Pekah looked sideways at the Gideonite woman, studying her expression. At first she appeared to be serious, but then her lip quivered in an effort to suppress a grin. She broke out into a wide smile.
Pekah laughed. “You had me believing you.”
“I did?”
“Yes. Because of the weight of the basket, I wasn’t about to doubt you.”
“It’s only peaches. And some bread. The bread doesn’t weigh much.”
“Maybe I’m just weak.”
Abigail smiled at him again, but didn’t say anything. Now out of the market, they continued to walk down the sloping street toward the residential areas. Pekah wondered where they were going, suspecting that they were headed to Uzziel’s place. But when they came to the first intersection, Abigail turned, and Pekah followed.
“Tavor and Sarah’s home?” he asked.
“Yes. Rachel and I are going to help Sarah prepare the fruit. She has a large drying rack and plenty of storage. Besides, with you and Eli returning today, I didn’t want to be underfoot.”
Pekah suddenly felt uncomfortable, wondering if Abigail was avoiding him. He could feel his face turn red, and was glad she didn’t seem to notice. He chose to change the subject. “How do you like it here in Ramathaim?”
Abigail looked around as if admiring the architecture. “It’s very beautiful here. And the weather is nice.”
Pekah nodded. “I agree. It feels like home, but still has its own character.” He paused to move the basket to his other shoulder, then increased his pace to keep up. Rounding a corner, they arrived at Tavor’s home. Sarah peeked out from a window as they approached. Before they even passed under the simple arch that linked two sides of the low, stone wall around the modest property, Sarah opened the front door to greet them.
“Here, let me take that, Pekah,” she said.
Pekah didn’t argue. He helped Sarah to shoulder the basket. She then scurried into the house. Abigail turned and handed the two bags of almonds to him. As she did, he caught the faint scent of lavender on her hands.
“Thank you,” she said.
“It was my pleasure. Besides, it’s not every day I get the chance to walk with a beautiful lady of Gideon.” As soon as the words slipped out of his mouth, he regretted them. She’s going to be offended by my forwardness, he thought. He could still smell the perfume.
Her reaction surprised him. She smiled, kindness in her eyes. He gulped, quite uncomfortable. “Oh, I almost forgot! These are for you.” Pekah extended his arm, the small bag of almonds in his hand.
“Thank you, Pekah.” She took the bag and held it close to her chest. She held his eyes for a moment, her expression far more pleasant than the feeling in Pekah’s stomach-as though he had just been kicked by his horse. He felt a sudden urge to be on his way.
Abigail turned as if to head into the house, but paused and looked back over her shoulder. “Jasher was right to have liked you.” She then hurried in and shut the door.
Pekah stood there for a moment, amazed. Why did she say that? Replaying the words in his mind, hearing again the tone of her voice, and visualizing the friendly expression on her face-he realized her statement was a hint that she liked him too.
Leaving, Pekah’s step was light, his body full of energy. As he walked, he whistled.
Cool morning breezes fluttered down upon the broad canopy that had been erected next to the garden fount, ready to be the focal point of the marriage celebration. The fountain jumped and gurgled, and some of the spray drifted into the orchids that were lined up behind it, giving them an occasional wind-blown sip. Jonathan’s gaze lifted to just behind the beautiful flowers, and he saw the courtyard wall of the Temple of Sacrifice: tall, white, and brilliant in the morning suns-light.
Rachel placed her hand on Jonathan’s arm affectionately as they sat together on a bench enjoying the fresh air together. Jonathan held her hand tight.
“Look!” Rachel said, pointing to a songbird that settled into an almond tree nearby. Moving to a higher perch, it started to sing.
Utter contentment radiated from Rachel’s face, drawing Jonathan in. His gaze remained affixed to the lines of her face and her soft, brown eyes, rendering him almost breathless at her beauty. Feeling peaceful, he kissed her softly on the forehead and put an arm around her shoulder, watching the orchids sway in the breeze.
His mind drifted for a moment to dwell on the taxing and unsuccessful excursions to find Rezon and his men. They had spent days in the mountains of Hara. His troops had gone not once, but three times in the last month. Signs of the fugitives had been sparse, and Rezon’s followers-most of them from Gideon-were well acquainted with mountaineering. Jonathan wondered if they would ever be found. Catching himself, he put thoughts of disappointment away. He just had to believe that Rezon would eventually be found and brought to justice.
Thinking of more positive things, he mentally reviewed reports from Amon and Mehida, who just had returned to Ramathaim from the mountains of Gideon, bearing tidings of the successful creation of their new council. They had brought with them an old man, a goatherd named Eder. When Jonathan was introduced to him at the home of Uzziel, all four of them, including Pekah, were in complete agreement. Eder was undoubtedly the right man to fill the final council seat being offered to Gideon-unpretentious, never in a hurry to speak his mind, and rarely eloquent when he did so, but full of proper respect for all the tribes. Prejudice did not exist in any fiber of his makeup.
Instantly drawn to the man, Jonathan marveled at Eder’s optimism. Eder was blind, and yet, he had immense vision. It only took five minutes of conversation for Jonathan to see there was no guile in this simple goatherd.
When Jonathan found out that Eder was a widower, his invitation became more than just a seat around the council table of Hasor. Eder had no living children to care for, and his meager existence was hardly sufficient to allow him to travel to and from Hasor as needs would arise, especially since an escort would be needed each time.
Therefore, Jonathan offered the old man a room in his own home, the palace of Hasor, and complete freedom to come and go as he pleased. Eder graciously accepted. The best part of Jonathan’s kind offer was Rachel’s reaction-she was thrilled with the arrangement.
Jonathan smiled at the memory. Her compassion for others had always warmed his heart, and this part of her personality was one of the many reasons he looked forward to spending a lifetime with her at his side. No man would ever have a brighter jewel for his treasure than this woman would be for him. Everything felt so perfect. Peace. Friends. Rachel.
“Where are you?” Rachel asked.
“I’m sorry. Just thinking about things.”
“Our marriage tomorrow?” Rachel asked, teasing.
“Yes,” Jonathan said with a smile. “Of course. And reflecting on everything that has been accomplished in such a short time. I’m pleased that Amon and Mehida have returned to share our joyful occasion. And the Council Hall of Hasor will, for the first time, be honored by the presence of Gideon within its walls. All these things give me peace-I think they will allow me to truly enjoy our day to its fullest.”
Rachel laid her head on Jonathan’s shoulder. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
The sound of sandals upon the cobbled garden path caught their attention. Rachel ran to greet Abigail as she approached.
“Abigail! Good morning!” Th
e two women embraced warmly.
Now standing next to Rachel, Jonathan dipped his head toward Abigail. “Peace to you, daughter of Gideon.”
“And to you, Jonathan.” Abigail hesitated. “I’m looking for Pekah. Have you seen him?”
“Not this morning. Have you checked with the guards of the gatehouse? He has spent a lot of time out in the hills lately.”
“I have…” Abigail replied in a distracted manner. She glanced over her shoulder as if expecting Pekah to be there.
Rachel’s brow furrowed. “Is something wrong?”
Abigail looked away again. Jonathan sensed she wished he wasn’t there. “No. I just need to talk to him. I’ll keep looking, thank you.”
“If we see him, where can he find you?” Jonathan asked.
“Sarah’s home. Or at Miriam’s home.” Abigail then wandered off, staring up into the sky.
Jonathan touched Rachel’s arm. “Abigail had more to say, but didn’t because I was here. Right?”
Rachel’s smile confirmed Jonathan’s suspicion. “You are quite observant. Last night, Abigail and I talked for quite a while. She told me that Pekah has spent some time with her during the last few weeks. Each time you boys have come down out of the mountains, he has sought her out so they could talk. But he has never mentioned what happened on the night Jasher died. Abigail’s concerned. What if he feels duty bound to honor Jasher’s request, and yet doesn’t want to fulfill it?”
“How does Abigail feel about it?”
Rachel turned to face him, looking up into his eyes. “I believe Abigail is going to tell Pekah she doesn’t expect him to honor Jasher’s dying wish. Did you know Pekah talked a lot about your journey together?”
Jonathan shook his head.
“Abigail was very touched by his tale. She told me of her desire to obtain the same peace Pekah told her about-the peace he found standing in the river.”
