Using the light from his glowing sword to navigate around piles of books, maps, and other items torn from the shelves, Jonathan raced to the stone judgment seat. He sat down, and while stomping his left heel against a small protruding piece of stone at the base, he twisted the right armrest outward. Reaching into a concealed compartment, he removed a cloth-wrapped rod, about seven inches in total length. He shoved it into a pocket of his undershirt beneath the folds of his tunic and cloak, and slid the armrest back into place until it clicked.
Time to get out.
Stepping over the debris on the floor, Jonathan knelt one last time by his father. He hesitated, but knew if he took time to move the body, he might not escape. He kissed his father on the forehead, then made his way to the hallway door, which was still ajar. Not wanting to make any noise by moving it, he squeezed through the opening with some difficulty. As Jonathan stole across the passageway that led to the palace, he peered to the right. At the end of the hall was a large door and a flight of steps leading to the second, third, and fourth floors of the palace. He watched the stairwell, not surprised at the flickers of light from above that dispelled some of the shadow.
Jonathan hastened through the wide-open outer door and kept close to the wall until he reached the corner of the building. He popped the glow-stone out of his sword pommel, stuffed it back into his belt pouch, then returned the sword to its hard leather sheath. With the lights extinguished, he sprinted into the open. He skirted the stone fences bordering the east side of the barn, passing his previous hiding place on the way toward the garden wall. Glancing back at frequent intervals to be sure he was not being followed, Jonathan ascended the stairs to the southwestern guard tower.
Once in the abandoned tower, he lifted up the bench seat and retrieved a shoulder sack of provisions and supplies. He also grabbed a large bow and a well-stocked quiver of fletched arrows from the wall rack. A long, silky rope hung on a post. Jonathan looped it around the main roof support, leaving both ends loose. With bow in hand and the sack and quiver on his shoulder, he tossed both rope ends over the rock wall, shinnied down, then jerked the loop free.
Jonathan tried to limit his noise as he jogged down the cobbled garden path between rows of old olive trees. He followed the moons-lit way toward the grain field, coiling the trailing rope as he went. Once the lengths of smooth rope had all been looped into his large hand, he paused to tuck it into his shoulder sack.
He rushed through the damp wheat and only looked back once he had made it to the dirt path bordering the forest. As far as Jonathan could tell, he had not been noticed or followed. The three moons were bright now, and by their light he could plainly see that the field remained empty. He watched the broken garden gate for a few seconds, then turned toward the trees. With one last sorrowful glance at his home, he disappeared into the dark forest from whence the Gideonite soldiers had come.
Chapter 4
Familiar trails wound between aged trees, and Jonathan needed no more than the lights from above to find his way. He avoided thoughts of his father. His mind wandered to happier times as he felt his way down the dark paths splashed with occasional moons-light. As a boy, and even as a young man, he had spent many hours playing among these forest trees with his friends-especially with Eli, his closest friend. Eli’s keen gift of observation frequently made him the winner of any game that involved tracking or hiding from each other.
The sweet memories of carefree games with Eli made Jonathan smile as he went along. He took care not to leave signs of his passing-his footsteps light, his movements deliberate and smooth. As if to address his old friend, he whispered, “See, not even a single snapped branch or crushed twig left behind. Track me now, brother!”
Jonathan pressed southward for almost an hour until the terrain changed, the once-smooth, level paths starting to vary in elevation as the forest thinned. On the west side of the trail, the ground steepened, causing the trail to be diverted. He continued past the hill and approached another bend where moons-light reflected off sheer cliff faces now looming above him.
He stepped off the path between two close trees, taking care not to make too much noise, then paused to watch and listen. The forest was calm. A gentle breeze rustled the old oaks, but nothing else moved. Confident he was truly alone, he took fifteen paces to the base of the rock cliff and stood next to an old, dead tree. The weather-worn trunk still supported many branches bigger than the width of Jonathan’s shoulders. He gazed upward, intent on ascending to a large branch about twenty-five feet up that rested against the side of the cliff face. From the base of the featureless cliff, nothing seemed unusual about the specific place where the oak touched the rock. Jonathan knew otherwise, and he grabbed a limb just within reach. The familiarity of it all caused the corners of his mouth to twitch with excitement as he climbed.
Once he reached the intended branch, he could see the previously hidden depression in the rock wall just above him, shaped in such a way that until a person got right up to it, they couldn’t tell the cliff wasn’t solid all the way to the top. He stood on the huge branch and peered into the darkness of a natural cave.
Jonathan reached up and pulled himself to a sitting position on the ledge. Again he listened for any sign of movement in the forest below. Hearing nothing, he crawled back to the depression in the cliff face. Before entering the darkness, he reached into his belt pouch to retrieve his glow-stone and rub it to life, then crawled on his hands and knees into the cave. Five feet in, the chamber opened up with a raised ceiling, high enough for him to stand. Stashed along the edges of the small room were two complete bedrolls and other assorted blankets. There were also some cooking pans with utensils, old wooden chairs, a glow-stone lantern, some rope, arrows, and numerous other discarded items from the many visits he had made in years past with Eli and their other friends.
Now well after midnight, Jonathan could feel his tired bones. More than that, his heart ached with grief as the memories of the evening flooded back into his mind. Blinking away tears, he made his bed ready for the night. He was grateful the stash of bedding appeared to be pest-free, but he shook the blankets anyway.
Although hungry, he decided to wait until morning to arrange the supply sack he had taken from the guard tower. Jonathan removed his sword belt and laid it close to his bed. After taking off his cloak and his boots, he retrieved the steel dagger from his right boot sheath, placing it under a goose down pillow that had been rolled into the bedding, glad he and Eli had stashed the pillow in the cave several years ago.
A bit dusty, he thought to himself, but still very usable.
The summer night air felt quite warm, both outside and inside the cave, but the soft woolen blankets pulled to his chin still comforted him. He lay there with his head turned and stared out the moons-lit cave entrance. When tears came again, Jonathan attempted to pray, but his troubled thoughts prevented him from concentrating. Eventually weariness overcame him, and he entered a fitful sleep.
Chapter 5
Morning came, and Jonathan awoke to the singing of forest songbirds. Warmth and brightness crept into the cave, telling him of a sky both clear and cloudless. The angle of illumination in the passageway also told him he had slept far longer into the day than he had intended. Remembering the events of the evening, he sat up with a sigh. His hunger manifested itself in a strong growl. He had not eaten anything since the mid-day meal the previous day. Jonathan pressed the bedding into a tight roll and secured it with leather thongs. He pulled his boots on, then sat on the bedroll with the supply sack between his feet to take inventory of his cache.