to slit the dying man’s throat, the unexpected cruelty of the scene startled Jonathan, making his anger boil. He stepped forward, nocking another arrow.
The captain saw Jonathan draw and let out a deranged scream. Jonathan tensed as the man charged, closely followed by the last standing soldier. Fearing he would have to deal with two of them at once, Jonathan took down the second soldier with two successive arrows. The Gideonite captain almost upon him, Johathan dropped the bow to the ground.
Jonathan stood, unsheathed his crystal sword in one motion, and blocked the captain’s striking blow. The Gideonite’s sword sparked, and a chunk of the steel blade ricocheted to the ground. The captain reeled to the left. He began another swing directed at Jonathan’s exposed head, but Jonathan ducked and rolled, and then with tremendous strength, he thrust his crystal blade with full force up at the captain’s midsection, just under the breastplate. Jonathan withdrew the sword and jumped back, planting his stance with his weapon ready.
The Gideonite captain went pale, gaping in amazement as the bloodstained lining of his armor went from dark, reddish-brown to a bright, wet scarlet. He gasped for air and then tumbled face-first to the ground.
By this time, the last remaining Gideonite had recovered his breath, and he ran toward Jonathan with a waving sword. Jonathan met him with a swift blow, striking the soldier’s blade. The steel snapped in half with a sound like a hammer on an anvil. The soldier recoiled, fear in his eyes. Jonathan followed his gaze and saw that he stared at the crystal blade flashing blue and red in the late evening light. The soldier dropped his broken weapon to the ground and retreated a few more steps.
Not wanting to let the opportunity go, Jonathan lunged forward and placed the faceted tip of his sword directly on the eye of the raven painted on the man’s polished breastplate.
“Why did you not listen to me?” Jonathan asked, full of anger.
The soldier quaked in terror. As if his tongue had been bound, he did not speak a single word. His eyes were wide, and he kept glancing down at the strange, clear blade poking his chest.
Jonathan tried to catch his breath. He noticed that a still-fettered Eli approached the soldier from behind. The broad grin on Eli’s face widened into an unmistakable sign of joy, his white teeth framed by a red beard. Eli hobbled forward in restraining shackles which prevented him from taking more than half-strides. Jonathan thought Eli looked like a big bear tangled in vines, lumbering through the grass in the dimming light of the evening. The sight of Eli’s struggle stole all the anger Jonathan had left. Even though his chest still heaved from exertion, Jonathan smiled widely.
He turned back again to scrutinize the eyes of the Gideonite soldier, and saw deep within them a man not yet hardened by war.
“What’s your name?” Jonathan asked in a much softer tone than before.
“Pekah,” came the halting reply.
Jonathan studied the face of the soldier to get a sense of his character. Pekah’s face was young and fair, clean-shaven in the fashion of the Gideonite soldiers, with a short and unobtrusive nose, rounded chin, and dark brown eyes. His wavy black hair intensified the fairness of his complexion. Jonathan guessed Pekah could not have been much more than twenty-two years old.
In contrast with the fallen captain, Pekah did not seem to have the lust for murder and destruction in his countenance. His bright eyes weren’t dimmed, like those who had seen too much death. They did, however, show evidence of fear. Jonathan felt sorry for him.
Still holding his sword at the Gideonite’s chest, Jonathan briefly turned to check for other soldiers. When he looked back, he saw something else in Pekah’s face, but couldn’t make it out. Perhaps surprise? Jonathan thought.
“Pekah, I am-”
“Nate,” interrupted the deep voice of his friend, who had now joined them. “His name is Nate.”
Jonathan grinned at the use of Eli’s nickname for him. “Yes, I’m Nate,” Jonathan said as he lowered his sword to his side.
Pekah relaxed with the blade tip now off his chest.
“Although you and your fallen friends attempted to kill me, I don’t wish to shed your blood,” Jonathan said. “I won’t permit you, however, to continue your war against my people. If you covenant with me that you will lay down your weapons of war and return to your home in peace, I will spare your life.”
Pekah did not answer. Jonathan sensed a renewed fear in the soldier.
“Again, I swear to you, as I am granted breath by our God and Creator, that I will spare your life and release you, if you will but heed my request and give me your promise upon your very honor.”
Jonathan stepped back a few paces to give Pekah some room, and took opportunity to check him over. He saw that Pekah was strong and fit, slightly shorter than himself and Eli. The Gideonite’s rough hands betrayed the life of one accustomed to the hard work of a laborer, and seemed out of place when contrasted with the almost- new uniform he wore. Dressed in the typical manner of Gideonite soldiers, he wore a tightly-woven green wool tunic under his breastplate, which reached to just above the knees, held to his waist by a wide leather belt. His pants were black, and his brown boots wore the evidence of many long marches in recent days. In particular, Jonathan noticed that the paint on Pekah’s hardened leather breastplate shone in the evening light, an indication he had not been serving in the army of the Gideonite emperor for very long.
As Jonathan surveyed the soldier’s appearance, Pekah gaped at the sword in Jonathan’s hand as if surprised not to have been struck down by it. Jonathan looked again at Eli, and felt annoyed when Pekah cleared his throat to get his full attention.
“I seem to have a problem.”
Jonathan’s eyebrows lifted as he scrutinized the young Gideonite. “What kind of problem?”
Pekah swallowed hard. “If I consent, and give the oath which you have requested, my life will be in danger of forfeit. Desertion from the emperor’s army is punishable by death. From what I have heard, death for deserters is not a pleasant experience. The emperor is fond of torture to induce submission among the people.”
“I see.”
“And,” Pekah continued, “returning home will take me nowhere. My mother passed away a few years ago. I never knew my father. I only have one other choice.”
Jonathan waited. Pekah’s dramatic pause irritated him.
“My only choice is to follow you.”
Jonathan frowned, and he felt his brow furrow. He stepped closer to the Gideonite and glared at him. “What will you do for me?” he asked in a firm voice.
Pekah did not hesitate. “I will serve you. Yes, Nate-I will serve you until you release me, and even unto the end of my life, if you desire. Will you take me as your servant?” He stood unflinching and motionless.
Jonathan did not relish the thought of having a servant join him in battle, and yet something intrigued him about the idea of keeping Pekah close. This young man may be of use, he thought. “Swear it. Swear it by your honor.”
“I swear it by my life and my honor.”
Now satisfied, Jonathan switched his weapon to his left, then stepped forward, offering the palm of his free hand in acceptance, which Pekah instantly covered with his own right hand. Jonathan held Pekah’s gaze momentarily, then both men withdrew. An oath of honor such as this would be broken only by death, even by a Gideonite. Jonathan relaxed with a deep breath.
Seeing that his own sword was still in hand, Jonathan drove it deep into the soft grassy turf, all the way to the hilt, to clean it. He pulled it from the ground and flashed the perfect, sharp edges above him. Through the blade, he could see the eastern sunset sky where the small dots of Azure and Aqua rested on the horizon. He sheathed the sword, feigned a glare at Eli, then grinned.
“It’s good to see you. But you can’t seem to stay out of trouble, can you?”
Eli returned the grin. “It’s my lot in life. Yours is to get me out of the trouble I’m in.”
Jonathan nodded and laughed. Eli frequently seemed to be into some kind of mischief when they were together as young boys. Jonathan had often shouldered the blame for some of the pranks so Eli would not be the one always in trouble.
“I’m sorry,” Pekah said.
Jonathan studied the Gideonite. Pekah appeared as if he wanted to say something more, but instead blew out a sigh. Jonathan followed the soldier’s eyes down to Eli’s shackles.
