“Go on, then!” Sarah said, scowling at Tavor as if she expected him to intervene and make them stay.
After a futile attempt to avoid her glaring eyes, Tavor said, “You’re right, my dear. But do you honestly think they’ll listen to me?”
“No, I suppose not.” Sarah sighed. She frowned at each of them, causing them all to drop their gaze. Having made her point, she waved them out of the house.
Once outside, Jonathan put a hand on Tavor’s shoulder. “Thank you!”
Tavor only winked.
Chapter 33
Jonathan followed Eli as he and the others descended the steep, enclosed street where Tavor’s home crowded against other two-story stone residences. A few balconies above them were enshrouded with laundry hung out to dry. Sunlight bathed the men in warmth once again when they passed onto the wider streets below the temple, bordered on every side by tents. Normally filled with hawking vendors of all kinds, today the tents were devoid of sales activity. The few citizens who did walk the street waved cheerfully or gave friendly greetings pertaining to the holy day, each exuding a palpable feeling of relief from escaping the fears of the day before. The smiles and pleasant exchanges warmed Jonathan’s heart.
After arriving at the entrance to the city, they passed through the outer gate house to walk between the fallen archway stones. Jonathan could see the army of Amon in the distance. Making their way down to the grid of burial mounds that scarred the grassy field, they turned to avoid them and followed the road. As they neared the place where the army had assembled, Jonathan could see that the Gideonite captains were in the process of sending thousands of soldiers home-those who had abandoned Rezon.
Riding in the direction of the southern mountains of Gideon, Captain Mehida rode at their head. Jonathan could see him wave back to Amon before he rounded a bend and disappeared behind one of the many hills hugging the road. The ground still trembled from the many hundreds bringing up the rear as Jonathan and his friends approached the general, who was standing by the roadside. They all saluted.
“Good morning!” Amon greeted them with vigor, his deep voice booming.
“Good morning, General,” Jonathan said. Eli echoed his reply.
“Peace be to you, General,” Pekah said, in Uzzahite fashion.
“And to you,” Amon returned.
Pekah straightened. “I am here to report for duty, sir. What do you desire of me?”
Amon seemed surprised by the question. “Duty?” he asked. He stepped back as if to study the young Gideonite captain.
Jonathan’s eyes followed Amon’s-he also saw Pekah’s wavy black hair, dark eyes, light skin, and thin smile. They were all the same as before, and yet Pekah wasn’t. Jonathan now saw before him a man who carried himself differently. This Gideonite soldier has grown in wisdom, he thought.
Straightening, Amon looked squarely at Pekah. “Your duty, Captain, was fulfilled. If you desire it, you are released from service. We serve until death, do we not?”
Pekah blinked.
“Not what you expected?”
“Released, sir?”
“Yes, you are. When you joined the Host of Gideon-mind you, I did not say the army of the emperor-the oath of service you gave to Gideon was to last until you were released by a general of the Host, or until you can no longer serve because of injury or death. On account of your recent death,” Amon said, winking, “I certainly consider your oath fulfilled.”
Eli laughed.
Amon grinned, apparently amused. “Do you know what the troops are saying now? The rumors are rampant! You have become far, far more than just mere legend!”
Pekah’s eyes were wide, but he did not ask.
Jonathan asked for him. “What are they saying?”
“Many of them were present on the morning when Pekah and I first met.” Amon’s eyes danced. “Now they are saying, ‘Captain Pekah cannot be killed. Three times has it been attempted, and he either will not die, or he will not stay dead’. ” Amon chuckled.
At first, Pekah acted as though he didn’t know what to say. But then the humor of the moment took him, and his wit jumped out. “Apparently my enemies have not used the right weapon-before yesterday, the casual glance of a beautiful girl has always struck my heart much deeper.”
Jonathan and Eli both snickered.
Amon raised his hands. “The troops are serious about it, though,” he said, still chuckling. “They call you Azmaveth- strength in death.”
Now serious, Pekah shrugged it off. “I am nothing.”
“Choose to be nothing if you want,” Eli teased. “I still like you as Pekah.”
Pekah kicked at a rock, sending it skittering down the road in the direction of the last marching troops, now far away. Humor gone from Pekah’s face, Jonathan could see that something still troubled the Gideonite captain. Pekah looked up at Amon.
“I need some time to weigh things in my mind, General. The oath I made to Gideon remains important to me. I gave it upon my honor.” Pekah glanced at Jonathan. “I have also promised my service to the heir of Daniel. Thank you for the official release from service, but at this time I still wish to ride with these men.”
“So be it,” Amon replied. “I understand that your oath to Jonathan of Daniel still remains. They are leaving tomorrow to find Rezon. I assume you are well enough to travel with them?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you, Pekah,” Jonathan said.
“I plan to remain here for at least two days,” Amon said. “I’m meeting with the Council of Ramathaim tomorrow. Uzziel invited me to attend. I will then return to Gideon before Rezon can, should he attempt to do so. I’m taking documents of treaty from Uzzah and Daniel, and once I have presented them before a newly formed Council of Gideon-and forming this council will surely need to be done, now that Manasseh does not lead-then, I hope to return to witness the Anointing.”
“Anointing?” Pekah asked, appearing confused.
Eli looked at Jonathan, checking for his permission. Jonathan gave a nod.
“Pekah,” Eli said, “now that this conflict is over, Daniel remains without a judge and king. Samuel is dead, and Jonathan is the heir. He will be made king and judge over Daniel.”
“And my desire,” Amon added, “is that when I return to Gideon with the hopes of The Brothers in my heart, they will side with me, and war will cease between us forever. Gideon will remain a free people, just as Uzzah and Daniel, but…” Amon trailed off, folding his arms. With emotion, he finished. “I want Gideon to join with Daniel, just as Uzzah has done. Separate, yet supporting. To counsel with, and to assist. I want the pains and prejudices to be no more. I have seen how Uzzah and Daniel live in peace. I want nothing less for Gideon.”
Jonathan’s chest tightened, deeply touched by Amon’s statement. “General, thank you,” he said. “I wish for the same peace between our peoples. But somehow-this time-it must be different. I don’t think it’s possible to keep this good feeling between The Brothers unless we are more involved with each other. For how many years have there been suspicions, tensions, unfounded rumors, and accusations between our peoples?”
Amon was thoughtful, but then he agreed. “There must be change, but I don’t know how to change it.”
“I do,” Jonathan said without hesitation, greatly excited by the opportunity to change the course of his kingdom. “Amon, you will surely sit on the Council of Gideon as General of the Host. I would expect nothing less. But will you also sit on my council? My father always had both Uzzah and Daniel in the twelve council seats of Hasor, six from each tribe-and they all shared their wisdom with a humble judge. But this arrangement is no longer sufficient. Would you join me by sitting on that council, one of four from Gideon, that all tribes might be represented
