The Chronicles of Gan: The Thorn by Daron Fraley

conquest are the ones to carry the blame, not you.
Try not to let yourself take this burden upon yourself, for the
burden is not yours to bear.”
    Pekah felt the wisdom of Eli’s words, yet
couldn’t accept them. He had personally participated in the battle.
The guilt still lingered in his chest.
    “Why did you tell Jonathan about the dagger?
You could have kept that knowledge to yourself, and not a soul
would ever have known what you saw that day.”
    Pekah scratched the back of his head. “I
couldn’t sleep,” he explained. “I was up all night long with images
of death, suffering, and injustice plaguing my mind until I nearly
burned with fever. When my detachment attacked Hasor with the rest
of the Gideonite army, I immediately felt I did not want to be
there. I volunteered to serve the emperor because I believed our
peoples would be better served if we were united under one king. I
had been told the Danielites were foolishly preparing themselves
for war.”
    “That is absolutely
false!” Eli thundered as he shot to his
feet.
    Pekah interjected with raised hands. “I
know, Eli. It was obvious to me upon entering the village that the
Danielite judge had prepared his people for a defense, not for a
march on Gideon. I am so sorry my people have caused this great and
horrible conflict. Please forgive me. Forgive my people.”
    Eli calmed, sighing as he returned to sit on
the log. “I, too, am sorry. I’m sorry for all the misunderstandings
which have been between our peoples for so long.”
    “I don’t think Uzzah and Daniel have the
same misunderstandings, do they?”
    “No, Uzzah serves all peoples in the temples
of our God. Our work is to carry the burdens of many, and we honor
the responsibilities of Daniel, our brother. Our hearts are fixed
on the same purposes. For the most part, those ‘misunderstandings’
don’t exist.”
    Pekah bowed his head and stared at the
ground between his brown boots. Then he muttered, “I need to fix
this.” He stirred the dirt with a stick, making lines and
intersecting circles.
    “You are the first . . .” Eli started. He
shook his head in disbelief.
    “The first?”
    “Yes, Pekah. You are the first Gideonite I
have met in a long, long time who felt any remorse for the
occasional wars which break out between our peoples. I want you to
know that I am sorry for the people of Gideon who have suffered all
of these years with the choices of your leaders. Perhaps, someday,
your people and my people will both find peace.”
    Pekah said nothing. Instead, he stared up
into the dark blue sky visible between the branches above,
wondering about the turn of events. Just yesterday he had been
leading this Uzzahite in chains. Yet today, Eli felt sympathy for
the plight of the Gideonite people, after being led by a rope like
a dumb ox? He shook his head.
    As he stared heavenward, he noticed a
brightly colored bird in the trees, singing as if in a duet with
the bubbly stream nearby. A pop from the campfire sent the bird on
its way. Pekah turned to see Eli watching Nate . . . Jonathan, who
still sat on the log away from the camp.
    He wondered what Jonathan would do when he
returned. Memories of the short skirmish the previous evening made
a lump rise in his throat. There would be no possible way for him
to win a match or duel with Jonathan if it came to blows. The very
thought of having to defend himself against the Danielite made his
heart race. He turned back to the fire, picked up a twig, and
played with a dying coal.
    When Jonathan finally wandered back to the
camp, Pekah prepared himself for a stinging rebuke from the
Danielite. But the rebuke did not come. Jonathan went straight to
where he had slept the previous night, stooping to retrieve the
dagger. Pekah was shocked that he touched it.
    “Would you come with me?” Jonathan said with
kindness, offering his other hand.
    Pekah peered at him in disbelief, but took
his hand and was lifted. Jonathan patted Pekah’s shoulder