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 inched 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
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.