The Lamp of Darkness - - (best finance books of all time TXT) 📗

think he’s safe to travel with?”

Yonaton snorted. “Safe? I can’t think of a better person to travel with. When was the last time you shattered your enemy’s sword?”

I twisted around to face Yonaton. “Yesterday morning he lit a fire.”

“He built it to roast us a grouse.”

“I know, but Master Uriel told us not to. And Shimon complained about waiting in the cave. It sounds crazy, but I wonder if he wants to be found.”

“You think he wants to die?”

“Not to die, to fight.”

“The way he fights, I don’t blame him.”

“But that’s not the way he fights—three days ago he ran from battle.”

“You heard what Master Uriel said; he received a spirit from the Holy One. Like prophecy.”

“Exactly, a spirit like prophecy, which he’s pursued for years, and which he lost as soon as the battle ended. You saw the look in his eyes when he told Master Uriel about it. It was hungry.”

Yonaton stared at me. “You don’t trust him.”

I turned back to face the road. “Ovadia made me swear to bring Master Uriel to Dotan. Master Uriel might listen to me, but will Shimon?”

“If Master Uriel agrees, Shimon will come along to make sure he’s safe.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of. The plan is to sneak past the guards, not confront them. If Shimon won’t enter the cave, we’re better off without him on the road.”

“Tell him that. Tell him that if he’s not willing to hide, he shouldn’t make the journey.”

“He thinks he’s protecting Master Uriel.”

“Tell him you’ll do that.”

“He won’t listen to me.” I kept my face forward so that Yonaton wouldn’t see my shame. “He knows I couldn’t kill the soldier. He thinks I’m a coward.”

Yonaton shook his head. “He’s glad you didn’t kill the soldier—the last thing he’d want is for a kohen to kill. You heard what Master Uriel said, that kohanim are forbidden contact with the dead. Think of the debt he owes your father. He wants to protect you.”

“Exactly, which means he’s not going to listen to me.”

“Listen, I think you’re worrying about nothing. You ought to be more concerned about convincing Master Uriel. Will he agree to act like a Calf worshiper and then retreat into a cave?”

“I doubt it, but we have to try. Perhaps we shouldn’t tell him about hiding? Whether the plan is to fight or hide, he still needs to get to the cave. Let Ovadia convince him to stay put once we’re there.”

Yonaton snorted. “He’s a prophet, don’t be a fool. But if you can convince Master Uriel, I’ll work on Shimon. Twice he’s told me how I impressed him at the battle. I think he’ll listen to me.”

Yonaton’s willingness to deal with Shimon lightened my breathing. “So you think it’s better to bring him along?”

“Shimon’s not stupid—he won’t fight unless he has to. And if we have to fight, there’s no one I’d rather have on my side.”

The full heat of the day was just starting to subside when we saw the great carob tree blocking the cave. Ovadia warned us to enter the cave only after dark, so we tethered Balaam by a spring a short distance away and waited.

The first thing I noticed as night fell were flames backlighting the tree. Had Uriel bowed to Shimon’s recklessness?

I approached the cave first, lurking in the bushes while I spied out the situation. There was no sign of the prophet or Shimon. The blaze illuminated the cave, casting an eerie glow behind the carob’s dancing leaves. A charred cooking pot lay at its edge. From my hiding place, I inspected the cave for any signs of a struggle.

Stones crunched under footsteps, and I snapped my eyes to the path. By the fire’s orange glow, I saw Yonaton stepping toward the cave—but he wasn’t alone. A shadow broke away from the darkness and rose behind him. I let out a strangled cry at the sound of metal hissing against a leather sheath. A sword rose behind Yonaton.

The arm froze and then dropped. “You have returned.” Shimon sheathed his weapon as he eased into the firelight. His scars twisted in a tight smile.

A second figure slipped from the darkness into the cave. “You succeeded.” There was no question in Uriel’s voice.

I stepped out from my hiding place. “Yes, Master.”

“Where are we to go?”

“The cave of Dotan, Master.”

Uriel nodded solemnly. “A choice with wisdom. How many are already assembled there?”

“Thirty.”

“There will be more.”

“Dotan?” Shimon said, digging his heels into the rocky soil. “That’s north of Shomron. Did Ovadia say how we’re to get there?”

I swallowed. “Yes.”

Yonaton stepped toward the entrance. “We shouldn’t leave Balaam where he could draw attention. I’ll retrieve him.”

Uriel waved his hand in answer. “Balaam is fine where he is. It was wise to approach on foot.” His eyes grew narrow. “Now the plan.”

I’d rehearsed my speech at least ten times in my head on the ride back from Shomron—but the words evaporated in my master’s presence.

Uriel fixed me with a piercing stare. “Are we to join the pilgrims returning from Beit El?”

My chest froze, anticipating the prophet’s angry protest. “Ovadia says it’s the best way. Hopefully, no one will—”

Uriel cut me off. “Very well. So we will do.”

My breath seeped out in relief. That part at least was easier than I feared.

Shimon’s hand grew white on the hilt of his sword. “We will be considered among those who bowed to the Calf!”

Uriel shook his head. “I will walk hooded and cloaked. You may do the same. No one will know us. If any do, the faithful judge the prophets with favor. They will understand we are seeking the cover of the crowd. But even if they do believe we bowed, it is worth the risk. As Lev said, it is the best way.”

“I agree, Master Uriel, that we must reach Dotan,” Shimon said, “but perhaps you should seek vision before you decide how. The Holy One may grant us guidance whether this path is really the—”

“It is not the time for vision.”

“But why not? Couldn’t—”

“I never use prophecy to question my heart. This is true now more than ever. We are being carried by a powerful stream of events—ascending now could make me deaf to the voice of my own heart.”

“Which is what?”

“We were told to seek Ovadia—we must heed his advice. Traveling with those returning from Beit El is the safest way to get to Dotan.”

Yonaton sighed in my ear, but Uriel wasn’t done. “The only difficulty is the delay. It is essential we get to Dotan quickly. Even now they may be forming plans to resist Izevel. They will need our guidance.”

I sucked in my breath again.

The sound drew Uriel’s attention. “Is there more, Lev?”

There was no need for Uriel to know the next part until we reached Dotan, but Yonaton was right—he’d know if I was hiding anything. “They are not seeking guidance, Master.”

“Then the resistance has already begun? All the more so, they will need leadership.”

“No, Master, they seek no leader.”

“No leader? What then?”

My throat clenched, so tight I could barely answer. Uriel studied me as I sputtered. “There is to be no resistance.”

“No resistance?”

“No, Master.”

“Then why assemble in Dotan?”

I swallowed hard. I needed Ovadia here for this.

Uriel held my gaze. “To hide?”

“Yes, Master.”

The prophet shook his head. “I am too old to bury myself in a cave. There is no point in dying hidden. Even being struck down by the sword is better than that; then the people might see the brutality of their so-called Queen and rise up against her.”

Shimon stepped between the prophet and me. “Then what shall we do, Master?”

“You were right—I must seek vision. Lev, your kinnor.” Uriel lowered himself to the stone ground.

I hesitated. Two oaths: one to serve Uriel, one to bring Uriel to Dotan. All that day I pondered what I would do should those two vows conflict. I felt my master’s presence, firm on the floor. Was he set on resistance even if his death would only be a symbol? At the very least, Dotan would extend my master’s life, whether he wanted that or not. And what if Ovadia was right? What if my master would prove pivotal once the war was over? I saw now why Ovadia made me swear; the oath’s power tied me to his purpose. I swallowed again and made my choice. “No, Master.”

Uriel raised an eyebrow.

I gripped my tunic in my fists. “You said it yourself, Master, now is not the time for vision. There must be others resisting Izevel, but the Holy One didn’t send us to them. We were sent to Ovadia—we should heed his advice.”

I felt the heat of Shimon’s glare—he would welcome another fight. But I focused on my master, still crouched on the ground.

Fire rose in Uriel’s eyes, flashed, and then extinguished. “Perhaps you are correct, Lev, and I should heed Ovadia’s word without pursuing further guidance.” He stared down at his hands, limp between his knees. “And perhaps you are wrong.”

The uncertainty in my master’s voice unsettled me. Uriel reached out to Yonaton to help him to his feet. “You boys have traveled far today—I have demanded enough words for now. To sleep. Let us each seek the counsel of our dreams.”

The exhaustion of my body overwhelmed the restlessness of my mind, and I quickly fell into a deep slumber. Riding Balaam, it took much of the day to travel from Shomron, but my dreams returned me there in an instant.

The throne room glowed. Oil lamps surrounded the Queen and ringed Yambalya as he knelt before her. It could have been daylight if not for the nearly full moon shining through the eastern windows.

“We killed their prophets and still they resist!” Izevel’s voice was shrill.

“It takes time, my Queen, to uproot a people’s connection to their god.”

“It is Eliyahu. And this drought.”

“The people know nothing of Eliyahu, my Queen, nor do they yet realize there’s a drought. Once they do, they will have all the more reason to turn against their prophets.”

“Or perhaps they will see Eliyahu as stronger than Baal?”

The priest glared at Izevel, eyes smoldering.

“What of the hunt? You claimed your servants have never failed.”

“They are Baal’s servants, not mine. And they will succeed. I told you, I have seen Eliyahu’s future in the stars.”

Izevel sat back with a snarl. “Yet, for now, the people still resist.”

“Yes, my Queen, but I have a plan.”

She leaned forward. “A plan? What will you do?”

“If her Majesty will be guided by me, then before the moon wanes, half the stubborn ones in Shomron will bend their knees before Baal.”

Pale light filled the cave when I woke the next morning. Shimon and Yonaton still slept beside me, but Uriel’s mat lay empty. My eyes scanned the back of the cave—Balaam’s saddlebags were gone. My heart leapt as I pulled my tunic over my head.

Yonaton stirred. “Where are you going?”

“Master Uriel’s gone.”

Yonaton sat up. “His sleeping mat is still here.”

“The saddlebags are missing.”

“So?”

Why didn’t Yonaton understand? “So Master Uriel would take them only if he intended to travel.”

“Without us?” Comprehension filled Yonaton’s eyes, and he rose to his feet.

Uriel took the saddlebags and left without waking us, without even taking