The Lamp of Darkness - - (best finance books of all time TXT) 📗
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“But how will we sustain them? We have sufficient barley for the hidden ones only until the new moon. What will you do then, sell land to buy grain?” Terror lit her eyes. “And you’re being watched. How long can we keep this up before someone discovers what we’re doing?”
“I don’t know.” Ovadia slammed his fist on the table; our bowls bounced with a clank. “But when it is known that a drought is coming, at least buying a store of grain will not appear suspicious. We must continue hiding the prophets—I see now that any battle will not succeed.”
“But why not?” Batya cried.
“Didn’t you hear the boy? Eliyahu evoked the curse of Moses. There will never again be a prophet of Moses’s strength.”
“But shouldn’t that make victory even easier?” I asked, but even as the words left my mouth, I recalled Uriel telling me that the forces of light and the forces of darkness had to exist in balance. The more powerful Eliyahu’s curse, the more powerful the counteracting forces would be. Perhaps if Eliyahu were leading us into battle, our strength could prevail, but with Eliyahu in hiding, could any force we set into motion be strong enough?
As if answering my thoughts, Ovadia said, “If this war is won, it will not be by ordinary men like me, nor even by the prophets of today. If we send the prophets out of the cave now, we send them to their deaths. We just have to do what we can, help as many as we can, for as long as we have bread. If we fail, we fail.”
Ovadia sighed. “We’ll need to find a way to get Uriel and Shimon here without being detected.”
“Bring them here?” The words leapt out of my mouth.
“Yes, here. There’s nowhere else I can sustain them.”
I shook my head. “Master Uriel doesn’t want to hide. He would support your original plan.”
“We can save his life!”
“He said he will spend his last days serving the Holy One in any way he can. I don’t think he’ll go meekly into a cave.”
“Shimon won’t either,” Yonaton added. “He’d rather fight.”
Ovadia slapped his palms on the table and bore into my eyes. “Listen to me—it is crucial that Uriel survive.”
“He won’t want it. He says he doesn’t have long to live anyway.”
“Uriel must live. In the struggle between Eliyahu and Izevel, he may prove pivotal.”
“If Eliyahu fails?”
“No, if Eliyahu succeeds. It may take the wrath of Eliyahu to defeat Izevel. But it will require one like your master to rebuild the nation—and there is none other like him.”
“Why?” Yonaton asked.
But I thought I knew. “Master Uriel believes we must turn to the Holy One from love, not fear.”
“That’s part of it,” Ovadia said. “But Uriel is not the only prophet dedicated to the path of love.”
“Then why?”
“You’re too young to understand what Uriel has been through. Tell him whatever you must, but get him to me.”
“And what about Shimon?” Yonaton asked.
“Shimon is loyal to Uriel. If he thinks that his help is needed to save Uriel, I expect he will do what he must. But once Uriel is hidden, Shimon may do as he pleases.”
“Even if he agrees to come, how will we get him here? You said you can’t travel.”
“No, I cannot. The Queen is investing all her efforts into amassing power. Allegiances shift and swirl around her at all times. Those in her favor are advanced, those who are not…” His expression grew sour. “She distrusts me because I will not bow to her abominations. This is not yet required, but refusal is enough to draw her wrath. The King leans on me for many things, so I am safe at present. But I am watched. If I go to Uriel, it will mean the death of us both.”
“But what can we do without you?” My heart raced at the thought of traveling the King’s Road with the prophet, and I saw my fear reflected in Yonaton’s eyes. We were counting on Ovadia’s authority to get the navi past the soldiers.
“You saw the Queen’s soldiers on the road?”
I nodded.
“Perhaps we can risk it anyway. There are many ways into Shomron. It is not the people we have to fear—they are not yet corrupt enough to hunt a prophet—it is only the foreigners. There are many paths they may not know. No one knows these mountains as Uriel does. It was he who first showed me the cave.”
I shook my head. “They have lookouts on the hilltops. They’re watching the valleys as well as the roads.”
Ovadia groaned. “You see, Batya, a craftsman can have the finest tools, but he’s an oaf without a plan.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “Perhaps at night?”
I recalled our flight from the soldiers two nights before and shuddered. To reach Shomron in the dark, on footpaths, would take three nights at least. That meant finding hiding places during the days on top of the hardship of the night trekking. “Even if we could make it, we’d never get into the city. The Queen’s soldiers watch the gates.”
“The cave is not in the city. He will not have to pass the gates.”
I didn’t like the plan, but what choice did we have? “All right. If we can convince Master Uriel, we’ll try at night.”
“No, you won’t.” Batya stood, hands on her hips. “You’ll go during the day.”
This was too much. Hadn’t she been listening? “The valleys are watched.”
“You won’t walk the valleys. You’ll take the King’s Road.”
Ovadia gaped at his wife. “How will they do that?”
A flush rose in Batya’s cheeks. “With the crowd returning from the festival.”
The edges of her husband’s lips curved up in a smile. “Brilliant.”
I stared back and forth between them. “What’s brilliant?”
“The annual festival of the Calf is in five days.” Ovadia slapped one hand into the other. “The King will be there, along with all the nobility of Shomron.”
“But if the King is there,” Yonaton said, “There are sure to be soldiers as well.”
“The King’s guard will escort him, but he moves much faster than his subjects. Besides, those are Israelite soldiers—the Queen’s guard won’t dare attack while they’re around. Once the King rides past, Uriel and Shimon can mingle in with the crowd.”
“He won’t agree.”
“I told you, Lev, your master must reach that cave. And I have known him far longer than you have. I do not believe that he wants to die.”
I bristled. “If you know my master so well, then you must know his loathing of the Calf. He hasn’t even set foot in Beit El for sixty years. Even if he agrees to hide, he won’t do it by pretending to be a Calf worshiper.”
“It’s the only plan we have.” Ovadia reached across the table to seize my shoulders. “The Holy One has chosen you to serve your master. Now you must save him. Whatever you need to do, you do.” His grip tightened. “Swear to me that you will get Uriel here alive!”
“He’s my master, I’m not his.”
“I am offering to save his life. Now swear.”
Ovadia’s eyes locked on mine, sapping my power to resist. “All right, I swear.” How would I stand up to a navi when I couldn’t even stand up to Ovadia?
“But we’ll still have to get past the Queen’s soldiers on the road,” Yonaton protested.
“Yes.”
“But how?”
Ovadia released my shoulders and turned to Yonaton. “Once I was traveling the hills of the Bashon alone, on a mission for the King. Just at sunset, I came upon a pack of wild dogs.”
I wondered what this had to do with saving my master. Yonaton asked, “What did you do?”
“I sat down in their midst.”
Yonaton’s eyes grew large. “Weren’t you scared?”
“Terrified.”
“I don’t understand,” I said.
“If you run from a dog, it will give chase. But if you act like its master, it will grovel. You are not going to run from the Queen’s soldiers, nor will you hide. You will pass them in the middle of the day, in a crowd returning from a festival for the Golden Calf.”
My stomach rumbled, and though I knew the navi was tired, I also knew the wise never left their questions unasked. “I have one more, Master.”
“One more then.”
I could tell from the direction of his voice that my master was lying down. Suddenly my curiosity felt out of place, and I struggled for the right words. “It’s about food.”
“The righteous eat to satisfy the soul.”
“Is that why the prophets don’t cook their greens properly?” I almost said “didn’t cook their greens properly,” but caught myself. Just because it had been months since any prophet I knew had tasted a vegetable didn’t mean they’d given up hope.
I rarely heard my master’s laugh these days, though its dry rattle didn’t convey much humor. “What did you notice about the meals in Emek HaAsefa?”
Despite the total darkness, I closed my eyes to summon up an image of the gathering. “The vegetables were barely cooked; their colors were very bright.”
“You saw well. Of all creation, it is only man that cooks his food. The colors tell us when it is ready to be eaten. Leave it on the fire and the color fades, because its vital force is sapped.”
“Vegetables tell us when they should be eaten?”
“Indeed. The nevi’im see a generous creation which guides our growth—we need only listen.”
Rabbi Yannai said: We cannot grasp the tranquility of the wicked, nor can we understand the suffering of the righteous.
Pirkei Avot 4:19
18Shimon’s Tale
We left the house before first light, before any prying eyes could take notice. Ovadia instructed us not to speak until we reached the main road, yet even there, neither of us broke the silence. When the ram’s horn signaled the opening of the gates, we pushed our way through, practically invisible within a group of farmers heading out to their fields.
Ovadia’s words turned over in my mind. Eliyahu’s curse evoked the power of Moses. That power was not directed solely against Izevel and the Baal, the battle that Ovadia wanted to fight. The drought would hit all of the people of Israel, those who bowed to the Baal and those who didn’t. The power of the curse meant that even a prophet like Uriel couldn’t alter its course. Trying to change it would only lead to his destruction.
Ovadia believed all this, believed Uriel must hide until the devastation passed, and I had sworn to bring my master to him. But would he agree? If Uriel thought that Ovadia was wrong, I was stuck between two oaths; one to Ovadia and one to my master. I shuddered at the thought of what just one oath had done to Seguv and his family.
“Soldiers,” Yonaton whispered, his chest pounding against my back.
“I can’t see more than their heads.” I craned my neck to see into the stone tower that stood above us. The hilltops surrounding Shomron were all topped with such strongholds, the outer ring of the city’s defenses. “Are they Israelite or the Queen’s Guard?”
“Can’t tell.”
The soldiers hardly glanced at us, but as we passed under the shadow of the watchtower, a feeling of disquiet rumbled in my stomach. Since swearing to Ovadia, my thoughts had been focused on Uriel, but a bigger problem just occurred to me.
“Yonaton?” His name caught in my throat.
“What is it?”
“Ovadia said that Master Uriel must get to Shomron—at any cost. But what about Shimon?”
“What about him?”
I hesitated. “Well, it’s just that…I’m not sure. Do you
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