Once he was next to Jael’s sword, he dropped his own in the same place. The two Gideonite leaders stood together.
“If my men are willing to make such a covenant,” said Rezon, “Then so must I. How can I fight against so great an army?”
Still suspicious of Rezon, Amon motioned toward them. Two Uzzahite archers stepped out of the crowd and pulled their bowstrings back until they creaked, both arrows directed at Rezon’s heart.
“Why are you aiming at me?” Rezon protested as if deeply hurt by the distrust.
Amon did not answer, but he again signaled to the archers. Their bowstrings went slack, although both men held their missiles firmly to the nock point. He took a deep breath.
I need to make a strong statement, he thought. It would give him great pleasure to personally receive a covenant from Rezon, but in light of recent events, and the incredible tale Eli had just related to the soldiers, he felt a greater, lasting impression would be made upon those present if the man ultimately responsible for the miracles at Ain would do the honors.
“Pekah, would you and Eli retrieve the general’s weapon and receive his oath of honor?”
Pekah readily accepted the assignment. Looking to his large Uzzahite friend, he approached General Rezon and Captain Jael. They stopped a few paces short, warily watching the two Gideonites.
Rezon showed his hands, plainly empty, and then clasped them behind his back in a show of submission. Jael did the same. Pekah and Eli stepped around the pile of weapons, stopping over the two swords lying together in the grass.
Eli held his sword in his right hand and his long walking stick in his left, both in a defensive manner. He motioned for Pekah to place the two men under covenant. Pekah hesitated only briefly, but then with visible courage, he extended his right hand out as the recipient of the covenant, with his palm upward. Looking on, Amon was annoyed by Rezon’s expression of total indifference.
General Rezon sighed, almost pathetically. He then spoke loudly to the crowd. “I hereby covenant that I will not wage war with Daniel or Uzzah again.” Then with great show, he pulled his empty right hand from behind his back and placed it over Pekah’s. “Instead,” Rezon said with a long pause, “I will murder them!”
In a flash, the left-handed Gideonite viciously stabbed forward and drove his dagger deep into Pekah’s chest. The blade pierced him right at the spot in his breastplate where the Gideonite arrow had weakened the hardened leather. Pekah’s eyes glazed over, and he fell forward with a thud. In the distance, two distinct and recognizable screams hurtled into the air. Ezra’s men quickly rushed to protect the women.
Jael slammed into Eli, knocking him off balance and away from Rezon. As if planned all along, a hundred Gideonites scrambled past the general to gain access to the pile of weapons before them. The Uzzahite archers, whom Amon had called up, let their arrows fly. One struck Jael in the shoulder and the other ricocheted off Rezon’s breastplate as he bent to retrieve his sword. As the Gideonites swooped in to grab weapons, The Brothers were upon them in force.
One soldier next to Rezon retrieved Jael’s sword, and with Rezon nearly dragging the wounded captain, the three ran back into their own ranks. They made for the base of the mount and began to climb. Loyal soldiers used their own bodies as human shields, receiving the onslaught of arrows intended for the general. Man after man fell with arrows in their backs but the defense never faltered, other men immediately taking their place. Other Gideonites stayed behind and rushed the main group of horsemen. Most were trampled in the fighting, but enough of Rezon’s men were armed that they held up the riders, preventing them from chasing the escaping Gideonites. Rezon’s small group disappeared over the top of the small mount.
In the intense battle that raged, Amon, Jonathan, Eli, and Tavor fought side by side, each dealing death with almost every blow. After many minutes of fighting, those who had enabled the escape of Rezon had been annihilated. The dead lay all around The Brothers like piled logs.
Amon braced himself, his hands on his knees, his chest heaving. When he caught his breath, he looked up to see Tavor at Eli’s side, tending to the burly red-headed man. Eli glanced down at the blood streaming from a gash in his arm. He stumbled, but Tavor caught him and set him down on the ground. Next to Eli, Jonathan reached down to touch a superficial slice on the back of his leg. He winced. Of the small group of friends, only Tavor was unharmed.
The general searched for something to staunch Eli’s bleeding. An Uzzahite tending the wounded handed him a few strips of clean cloth. He rushed to Tavor and assisted in treating Eli’s wound. He held the cloth tight while Tavor wrapped and then tied the ends.
Distracted by Jonathan, he watched as the Danielite hobbled toward a still form on the turf. It was Pekah.
Amon left Tavor with the remaining cloth and followed him. When Jonathan reached Pekah’s lifeless body and collapsed in a heap, Amon stopped. He swallowed hard.
Clearly anguished, tears streamed down Jonathan’s cheeks as he pulled Pekah close and sobbed.
His head low, Amon turned away.
Chapter 31
Jonathan stood next to Eli in the dim glow-stone lantern light of the tent, both with tears dripping into their beards. The door flaps of the medical tent had been lowered to give them privacy, closed well enough that very little of the evening light filtered through. Outside, Azure and Aqua were just about to dip behind the eastern peaks of the Hara Range.
Pekah’s body lay before them, stretched out on one of the cots intended for use by the healers of Rezon’s army for treating the wounded. Split down the middle, his torn blood-soaked tunic had fallen over his arms. The gaping wound in his bared chest stared back at Jonathan and Eli as if it were mocking them with cruel laughter. Even though someone had closed the captain’s eyes, it seemed as if an expression of total surprise remained.
Having trouble grasping the reality of seeing the still form on the cot, Jonathan gazed upon Pekah’s body as if he expected the young Gideonite to sit up and tell them there was really nothing wrong. But Pekah did not move.
“I don’t understand,” Jonathan muttered to himself.
At first, Eli acted as though he did not notice the comment. Then he glanced sideways at Jonathan. “Understand what?” Eli asked.
Jonathan still stared at the body. He scratched the back of his head, trying to shake loose a foggy memory of the past. As his hand absentmindedly fell to his chin, a thought clicked into place. He started, eyes wide and searching.
“Eli! Three nights ago… do you remember?”
“Remember what?” Eli asked.
“Do you remember sleeping in the tent by the Fount of Ain?”
“Yes, of course I do.”
“I never told you, but much like Pekah’s dream about the Emperor Manasseh… I had a dream about Pekah.”
Eli stepped back, astonished. “Did you see Pekah like this?”
“No, not exactly.”
Jonathan then related the dream, in every detail.
“But in the dream, you saw children! What of the children? How do they fit in?”
Jonathan didn’t answer. He fidgeted with his beard as if pulling on it would ease his troubled mind. He let go to scratch his head, and then pulled on his beard once more.
Eli seemed bothered by Jonathan’s nervousness, but did not say anything.
A profound thought crossed Jonathan’s mind and he felt a warm change in his own countenance. It was as if the sister suns themselves broke through the canvas of the tent roof, spilling morning beams into the room. Although Jonathan’s face lit up, tears welled up in his eyes once again. The unmistakable feeling in the room
