“Emperor Manasseh, will you trade the prisoners of Daniel and Uzzah for the scepter?”
Manasseh shook his head immediately. “I will not give you the prisoners. This trinket will not buy their freedom or end this war.”
Pekah’s countenance fell, and Eli stiffened.
“This war will continue,” the emperor almost shouted, “until all of Daniel is destroyed and Uzzah is made to serve Gideon forever.”
Manasseh stood in pure malevolence, his face hard, his eyes cold.
Both Eli and Pekah recoiled from the evil threat. Eli glanced about, as if looking for an escape.
Pekah shocked himself with a forceful and defiant response. “Then you cannot have it!” he cried. “Jonathan, Samuel’s son, sent me to trade this for prisoners. If you do not release them, you cannot have The Thorn!”
For some reason, the general and the captain did not move or speak. They stood as if they had been shackled to the floor and rendered mute.
Anger and hatred seethed from Manasseh’s face. He was a volcano, ready to spew hot, searing lava into the air. His presence seemed to grow in the room, and the darkness he carried made Pekah flinch. At the moment Manasseh appeared ready to burst, with great intensity he commanded his men, “Kill them! Kill them, and bring me the scepter!”
The Gideonite leaders still did not move. They stared at each other, and then, almost as if they were offended by the emperor’s request, they regarded him without any expression whatsoever.
This made Manasseh rage. He shrieked as if stung by a wasp and ran forward with dagger flashing. Unable to react, Pekah stood motionless, his arm still outstretched, the scepter between himself and the furious man. Time seemed to slow, and the steps taken by Manasseh were easily counted.
Eli started to move as if to protect his unarmed friend, but there came a terrible noise like a great, rushing gust of wind. It was as if an unseen tornado had entered the room-unfelt, yet undeniably heard in its roaring intensity. Eli froze. The wind, or unseen power, penetrated Pekah’s body and caused his heart to burn with fervent heat.
Coinciding with that instant, a light, as bright as the lights of Azure and Aqua at mid-day, cut through the paneled roof above them and flooded the chamber with energy and brilliance. It touched Pekah, then sprang forward, coming to rest in the glass rod of The Thorn. Heavenly fire-which did not burn-burst from the scepter at every angle and shamed the candle lights into oblivion.
Manasseh stopped short, his eyes wide and fearful. The light from the scepter blinded him. Then, as if with the force of a battering ram, a direct beam shot from The Thorn, knocking the emperor back into his throne. The rushing wind became tangibly real. It tore the roof and all four walls of the portable stateroom into small beams, sticks, and splinters, scattering the pieces into the air like winnowed chaff. Only the paneled floor, chairs, and candelabrum remained intact.
The walls now gone, Pekah watched in amazement as soldiers from all around the destroyed building scattered like frightened sheep, running for their lives. Chunks of riven wood, brass pegs, cloth, and broken beams rained from the sky. The explosive sound reverberated in the plaza and shook the ground.
With arms up to protect their faces, the general and the captain fell to the floor of the stateroom. Eli’s red hair was in disarray, and Pekah’s dark hair was blown backwards, but both men remained standing, entirely unharmed.
Manasseh slumped dead in his throne, the dagger he still clutched in his hand resting upon his lap.
Light still flickered in The Thorn.
Chapter 14
Rising from his knees, Jonathan moved to sit upon a round-topped boulder and stare out into the valley, a prayer still in his heart. The crisp morning air nipped at him, so he held his arms close to his chest, warding off another shiver. Just above the western peaks which bordered the city far below him, Aqua and Azure burned bright in the sky. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, exposing his neck to their warmth.
Please protect Rachel, he prayed. Strengthen my friends.
Jonathan sighed. Waiting, especially with nothing to do but brood, grated at his patience. He opened his eyes and played with a pebble. Nearby, a squirrel chattered, darting from rock to rock, but keeping its distance. When it reached a bush not far from where he sat, it pawed through a pile of sticks, popped something into its mouth, and then raced toward a tree. Jonathan snorted.
“Your life is easy, my little friend.”
He tossed the pebble into the bush where the squirrel had been, and reached for his sack. Finding the last chunk of dried meat, he bit off a corner and held up the rest, hoping the squirrel would see.
“Thank you for showing me your stash of nuts, but I brought my own food.”
The salt tasted good to him, so he chewed slowly, savoring it. Well-lit by suns-light, Ain shone like a jewel, its stone walls and buildings almost white amidst a sea of orchards and field-covered hills. Too far away to make out details without his looking-glass, he thought about retrieving it from his pile of belongings, but didn’t feel like moving.
Like a deep rumble from a landslide, the ground shook beneath him. Startled, he leaped to his feet and surveyed his surroundings, but found nothing amiss. As the sound intensified, he realized it was coming from the direction of the city. He shielded his eyes from the suns and stared out into the valley. At that moment, a fierce blast of light flashed over the center of Ain. Before Jonathan could even gasp, the brilliant display ended. And then it was quiet.
How long he stood there, his jaw slack and eyes wide, he did not know. Still, the city was silent. Eventually he tired of standing. Finding his seat upon the boulder once again, he watched.
The general rose cautiously, keeping his eyes fixed on Pekah.
Pekah recovered from his shock. He hastened to wrap the scepter, placing it back into the leather bag about his neck.
“Are you all right?” Eli said as he grabbed Pekah’s arm.
“Yes, I think so. Are you?”
Eli nodded.
Pekah rubbed his eyes and ran his hands through his tousled black hair. He blinked several times, then focused on the general, who was helping the captain up from where he had fallen. Fearing they were still in danger, Pekah retreated a few steps, and Eli joined him.
The Gideonite soldiers did not approach them, but stood surveying their new surroundings, undoubtedly shocked to see the walls and roof of the portable stateroom now missing. Like a cosmic crater, the wooden floor of the platform had become a central depression amidst large mounds of rubble, randomly arranged in an almost circular fashion. Just outside the rim of broken beams, cloth, and metal, several of the tents closest to the scene had been toppled by falling debris.
Near the ruined tents, a few soldiers milled about, some of them armed, and others not. The soldiers gazed in earnest at the general, waiting for a command to act. Behind those who had gathered, the plaza fount still splashed, although the water basin and the pool below the pedestals had several items floating in them.
The general walked cautiously over to the throne. He checked the emperor for signs of life. He sighed and then turned to Pekah and Eli. “He’s dead,” he declared, his voice uneven.
They glanced at each other without a word.
The general shook his head, but then curiously scrunching his face, asked, “Did you say you had a dream… about this?”
Certain that Eli wouldn’t want him to say anything that would further jeopardize their situation, Pekah didn’t answer, even though the general’s countenance had softened. The sound of metal on metal caught his attention, and he looked up to witness the stout captain sheathing his weapon. This put him further at ease, but he still didn’t know how to respond.