Free The Chronicles of Gan: The Thorn by Daron Fraley Page A

his polished armor
leaning against a log near the campfire. Eli stared at it as if
making eye contact with the raven upon the hardened leather.
    When Eli noticed Pekah also looking on, he
joked, “Perhaps you can get your bird to feed me!”
    Pekah was confused by the comment and
shrugged his shoulders.
    “You do know the story of the raven, do
you not?” asked Eli.
    “No.”
    Eli appeared dumbfounded. “Well, would you
care to hear it?”
    Pekah still didn’t feel like himself after
the horrible night he had, but to avoid offending his new
companions, he relented with a less-than-convincing “Sure.”
    Eli made a show of clearing his throat, and
the three men each found a place to sit on the logs around the
fire. Eli apparently loved to tell stories. He began with
excitement and animation.
    “The written words of my fathers tell us
that this raven was a godsend to Gideon, and it kept him alive.
Always fond of hunting, Gideon would travel many days, deep into
the wilderness, searching for the largest deer or the largest boar
to bring to his family for meat. On one occasion, he was far into
the forest when a strong storm arose and left a dense fog which
caused him to lose his way for many days, without food for most of
them. Almost without hope, Gideon felt as if he would not live. But
he prayed to God that he would be spared and led home.”
    Eli paused at this point, as if to make sure
his student still listened. Pekah didn’t have the heart to tell Eli
he wasn’t in the mood for a story.
    “As Gideon arose from his prayer, this raven
descended with a branch of berries in its beak.” Eli pointed at the
image on Pekah’s breastplate. “Dropping the branch, it flew away,
and Gideon followed. More ravens came, each one bearing fruit.
Gideon ate, and then followed the birds until he was back on
familiar ground and was able to leave the forest. On the day when
Father Noah gave his final blessings to his sons, he counseled
Gideon always to follow the path of the raven, and to do so by
watching out for the welfare of his brethren. Noah charged Gideon
to provide for them in whatever ways he could, so they might all
dwell together in joy.”
    Pekah now understood the prodding joke from
Eli about the raven feeding him, yet the story did not cheer his
heart—not in the least. It made him feel worse. At this point in
time, Gideon as a people was about as far off “the path of the
raven” as the tribe could be. Pekah glanced again over toward
Nate’s bed where the dagger lay in the dirt, a reminder of the
sleepless night he had passed. An overwhelming urge to clear his
conscience made his heart race, but words to express himself would
not come. Frustrated, he sat in silence, unable to even acknowledge
the story Eli had so eloquently related.
    Eli took a deep breath as if he was about to
tell more, but stopped short. Out of the corner of his eye, Pekah
saw Nate grip Eli’s arm.
    Nate suggested that they all pray to begin
their Sabbath day, and then partake of a meal together. Pekah
mechanically knelt and closed his eyes. Still feeling the effects
of a difficult night, his thoughts wandered. At the end of the
prayer, he could not remember a single thing said, nor could he
remember who had spoken. His mind foggy, he joined the other two
men in finding a seat around the dying fire.
    Saving the bread and dried meats from
Pekah’s provision sack, Nate took the food from his own supply,
broke the bread, and passed it with handfuls of dried fruit to the
others. Pekah received his portion, but held the crust in his
hands, staring down at the ground much as he had done the previous
evening.
    The struggle he felt within was fierce.
Guilt. Sorrow. Fear. Insistence that he had done nothing wrong. Yet
still there was confusion as to why he felt so horrible. What was
it? Then he knew. The murders—a little boy and an old man.
Something surged within him, and he felt the sudden need to clear
the air.
    “Nate,” Pekah began very