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The Gideonites all knew about the scepter because their father, Gideon, was there when it was fashioned. But none knew about the sword. And under the present circumstances, Jonathan did not feel impressed to share the story of the dream with Pekah, or the prophecy given to his grandfather. After all, the Gideonites already sought the scepter.

Jonathan hadn’t intended to be so mysterious. But he almost chuckled as he noticed Eli thoroughly enjoying the puzzled frown on Pekah’s face. Eli clasped his large hands behind his head and leaned back against a log, grinning widely.

Fortunately, Pekah asked no more questions. The conversation lagged, and Pekah again grew quiet. Ready to change the subject, Jonathan removed the small stone from the pommel, sheathed the sword, and suggested that they discuss their plans for the next day. Eli agreed.

“Tomorrow is the Sabbath,” Jonathan began. “I would rather not travel on the Sabbath. We’ll need our rest for the days ahead, and so I plan to stay here through the daylight hours of tomorrow. We can leave before dusk in the evening, and then travel under cover of darkness with the face of the moons as far as we can.”

“It’s true,” added Eli. “Tomorrow will be the crossing of the sisters, and under their face, travel will be easy enough, if the weather holds.”

“But where will we be going?” Pekah interjected, staring at Jonathan.

“We believe a large body of prisoners was taken from Hasor,” Jonathan said. “It’s possible they’re traveling toward Ain by way of Saron. If so, it’s my intention to find them and free them, if I can.”

Jonathan watched Pekah’s fire-lit face for a reaction. With the news Jonathan had received from Eli, he knew Pekah was aware of the prisoners taken at Hasor, and he wanted to see how this Gideonite felt about their plan to find them. Pekah’s countenance indeed had changed, but Jonathan could not tell if fear or some other emotion affected the Gideonite.

Sensing Pekah’s great unrest, he spoke with soft tones. “I want you to know, I have accepted your oath to me. You swore you will follow me and serve me until the end of your life. I will do all I can to ensure your life will be long, and that you will be happy, if you seek happiness.”

“Pekah,” Eli said. “Nate is a man of honor. His promise will be kept.”

“Thank you, Eli,” Jonathan said.

Pekah merely blinked as he stared into the campfire embers.

Still curious as to what Pekah’s thoughts were, Jonathan spoke again. “Can you tell me what you know about the fall of Hasor?”

Pekah remained silent. He fiddled with his boot straps as he continued to stare into the coals. Jonathan did not press him, but waited on his answer with hope that he would choose to talk about it. He looked towards the fire himself, wishing he could in some way make this awkward discussion about their plans bearable for both of them.

After a short time, Pekah spoke in a low voice. “I’ve seen things I do not wish to remember.”

Eli cleared his throat, but did not comment.

Jonathan let out a soft sigh. He said a silent prayer for help with their conversation, remaining calm and attentive until the impression came with words to fill his mouth.

“Pekah, there is One who can heal all things. Do you know of Whom I speak?”

Pekah nodded.

“No matter what has happened in your life, no matter what things you saw at Hasor, no matter what troubles you, if you turn to the Great King…” Jonathan’s voice became softer. “Turn to Him with all your heart, and pour your soul out to Him in prayer, even if it is by simply expressing the thoughts and the desires which are in your heart. He will hear you. He is the Great Healer, and He can remove many burdens.”

Immense hope, and a love for the young Gideonite man, started to fill Jonathan’s heart. He also noticed that he had been particularly impressed to use the title of “Great King,” but didn’t know why. Pekah still did not reply. His eyes glistened, and he turned from the fire to stare out into the darkness of the trees near the stream.

Jonathan did not feel inclined to talk further, and so after some awkward silence, he suggested they all get some rest. Now past midnight, morning would be upon them before they would want it to be. Eli asked if they should have a constant watch through the night, but Jonathan felt that with the cover of the thorny grove, and the sound of the stream behind them, they would pass the night without being discovered.

None of them had bed rolls, so they fashioned small pillows from sacks and cloaks. By this time, most of the flame was low and red. Eli placed the large log onto the fire to keep it burning.

Jonathan and Eli both knelt on the ground with bowed heads. They invited Pekah to join them in prayer, but he declined. After an expression of gratitude for a clear summer night with no rain, both men wished Pekah a good night’s sleep before drifting off.

Pekah watched them doze as he lay there, feeling depressed and out of place with these two men. He gazed up at the stars, not focusing on anything in particular. He tried to relax, but the events of the previous three days kept crossing his mind. Closing his eyes, he tried to sleep, but sleep would not come. The hard ground made him uncomfortable, and the more he tried to rest, the worse he felt. He groaned and realized much of the discomfort he felt was because of the guilt in his heart. He wished he had never enlisted in the emperor’s army. He wished he had never been in Hasor. He almost wished he were dead.

Chapter 8

Balm

The night continued to cool, making Pekah wish for a blanket. Sounds were all around him-the chirping of forest crickets, the buzzing of other unseen insects, even the hoot of an owl off in the distance. He even noticed the low gulping noise of a frog somewhere near the constant gurgle of the stream. These temporary distractions were soon lost to his senses, becoming nothing more than droning background noise as he continued to sink deeper into his depression. Over and over again, memories and images of the siege at Hasor played through his mind. Pekah remembered the dripping rain and damp fields of waist-high grain he had pushed through when his contingent rushed up to the southern garden gates. He could hear the creak and boom of the gates falling, and the pounding feet of charging soldiers upon the streets of the village.

His chest tightened with disgust as he remembered seeing some of the unarmed villagers murdered by his fellow soldiers when they should have been taken prisoner instead. He saw a young boy, not even ten years of age, running down the street away from the invading army, but a Gideonite archer’s arrow had knocked him to the ground before he could escape. The screams of women and children filled his mind.

He also recalled the purported reasons why the army had been sent there, and the dubious mission his detachment had been sent to do. Memories of atrocities committed by his fellow soldiers offended his sensibilities. He squeezed his eyes closed, but he could not shut out the horror.

Pekah’s guilt intensified to the point that he began to feel physical pain, and he groaned under the weight of it. His chest ached. He rolled from side to side, trying to shake the horrible darkness settling over him. As he analyzed the events of the battle, he severely chastised himself at each identified moment where a different outcome would have been possible. Perhaps he could have stopped some of the needless death and destruction that had taken place. But in all of his painful memories, his mind kept stopping at one particular place in time, a moment that disturbed him more than anything else. Pekah remembered the smell of blood as he shuffled past the body of the judge in the Council Hall of Hasor.