"Let the gods' designs be fulfilled. May the heavens not fall upon the earth, for we have acted rightly; we have obeyed tradition," he concluded.
ELIJAH, THE WOMAN, AND THE BOY WENT IN A WESTERLY direction, toward Israel; they did not need to pass near the Assyrian encampment because it was located to the south. The full moon made the walk easier but also cast strange shadows and sinister forms on the rocks and stones of the valley.
In the midst of the darkness, the angel of the Lord appeared. He bore a sword of fire in his right hand.
"Whither goest thou?" he asked.
"To Israel," Elijah answered.
"Hath the Lord summoned thee?"
"I know the miracle that God expects me to perform. And now I know where I am to execute it."
"Hath the Lord summoned thee?" repeated the angel.
Elijah remained silent.
"Hath the Lord summoned thee?" asked the angel for the third time.
"No."
"Then return to the place whence thou comest, for thou hast yet to fulfill thy destiny. The Lord hath still to summon thee."
"If nothing else, permit them to leave, for they have no reason to remain," implored Elijah.
But the angel was no longer there. Elijah dropped the bag he was carrying, sat in the middle of the road, and wept bitterly.
"What happened?" asked the woman and the boy, who had seen nothing.
"We're going back," he said. "Such is the Lord's desire."
HE WAS NOT ABLE to sleep well. He awoke in the night and sensed the tension in the air around him; an evil wind blew through the streets, sowing fear and distrust.
"In the love of a woman, I have discovered the love for all creatures," he prayed silently. "I need her. I know that the Lord will not forget that I am one of His instruments, perhaps the weakest of those He has chosen. Help me, O Lord, because I must repose calmly amidst the battles."
He recalled the governor's comment about the uselessness of fear. Despite that, sleep eluded him. "I need energy and tranquillity; give me rest while it is still possible."
He thought of summoning his angel and talking with him for a while, but knowing he might be told things he had no wish to hear, he changed his mind. To relax, he went downstairs; the bags that the woman had prepared for their flight had not been undone.
He considered returning to his room. He remembered what the Lord had told Moses: "And what man is there that hath betrothed a wife, and hath not taken her? Let him go and return unto his house, lest he die in the battle, and another man take her."
They had not yet known each other. But it had been a wearying night, and this was not the moment to do so.
He decided to unpack the bags and return everything to its place. He discovered that, besides the few clothes she possessed, she was carrying the instruments for drawing the characters of Byblos.
He picked up a stylus, moistened a small clay tablet, and began to sketch a few letters; he had learned to write by watching the woman as she worked.
"What a simple and ingenious thing," he thought, in an effort to turn his mind to other concerns. Often, on his way to the well for water, he had heard the women commenting, "The Greeks stole our most important invention," but Elijah knew it was not that way: the adaptation they had made by including vowels had transformed the alphabet into something that the peoples of all nations could use. Furthermore, they called their collections of parchments biblia, in honor of the city where the invention had occurred.
The Greek biblia were written on animal hides. Elijah felt this was a very fragile way of storing words; hides were less resistant than clay tablets and could be easily stolen. Papyrus came apart after some handling and was destroyed by water. "Biblia and papyrus will not last; only clay tablets are destined to remain forever," he reflected.
If Akbar survived for a time longer, he would recommend that the governor order his country's entire history written on clay tablets and stored in a special room, so that generations yet to come might consult them. In this way, if one day the priests of Phoenicia, who kept in their memory the history of their people, were decimated, the feats of warriors and poets would not be forgotten.
He amused himself for some time by writing the same letters but by ordering them differently, forming several words. He was enchanted with the result. The task relaxed him, and he returned to his bed.
HE AWOKE some time later at the sound of the door to his room crashing to the floor.
"It's not a dream. It's not the armies of the Lord in combat."
Shadows came from all sides, screaming like madmen in a language he did not understand.
"The Assyrians."
Other doors fell, walls were leveled by powerful hammer blows, the shouts of the invaders mixed with cries for help rising from the square. He attempted to stand, but one of the shadows knocked him to the ground. A muffled sound shook the floor below.
"Fire," Elijah thought. "They've set the house on fire."
"It's you," he heard someone saying in Phoenician. "You're the leader. Hiding like a coward in a woman's house."
He looked at the face of the person who had just spoken; flames lit the room, and he could see a man with a long beard, in a military uniform. Yes, the Assyrians had come.
"You invaded at night?" he asked, disoriented.
The man did not respond. Elijah saw the flash of swords drawn from their scabbards, and one of the warriors slashed his right arm.
Elijah closed his eyes; the scenes of an entire lifetime passed before him in a fraction of a second. He was once again playing in the street of the city of his birth, traveling to Jerusalem for the first time, smelling the odor of cut wood in the carpenter's shop, marveling at the vastness of the sea and at the garments people wore in the great cities of the coast. He saw himself walking the valleys and mountains of the Promised Land, remembered when he first saw Jezebel, who seemed like a young girl and charmed all who came near. He witnessed a second time the massacre of the prophets, heard anew the voice of the Lord ordering him into the desert. He saw again the eyes of the woman who awaited him at the gates of Zarephath, which its inhabitants called Akbar, and understood that he had loved her from the first moment. Once more he climbed the Fifth Mountain, brought a child back to life, and was welcomed by the people as a sage and a judge. He looked at the heavens, where the constellations were rapidly changing position, was dazzled by the moon that displayed its four phases in a single instant, felt heat, cold, fall and spring, experienced the rain and the lightning's flash. Clouds swept past in millions of different shapes, and the water of rivers again ran in their beds. He relived the day that he had seen the first Assyrian tent being erected, then the second, then several, many, the angels that came and went, the fiery sword on the road to Israel, sleepless nights, drawings on clay tablets, and--
He was back in the present. He thought about what was happening on the floor below; he had to save the widow and her son at any cost.
"Fire!" he told one of the enemy soldiers. "The house is on fire!"
He was not afraid; his only concern was for the widow and her child. Someone pushed his head against the floor, and he felt the taste of earth in his mouth. He kissed it, told it how much he loved it, and explained that he had done everything possible to avoid what was happening. He tried to wrest free of his captors, but someone had his foot on his chest.
"She must have fled," he thought. "They wouldn't harm a defenseless woman."
A deep calm took hold of his heart. Perhaps the Lord had come to realize that he was the wrong man and had found another prophet to rescue Israel from sin. Death had finally come, in the way he had hoped, through martyrdom. He accepted his fate and waited for the fatal blow.
Seconds went by; the voices were still shouting, blood still ran from his wound, but the fatal blow had not come.
"Ask them to kill me at once!" he shouted, knowing that at least one of them spoke his language.
No one heeded his words. They were arguing heatedly
, as if something had gone wrong. Some of the soldiers began kicking him, and for the first time Elijah noticed the instinct for survival reasserting itself. This created in him a sensation of panic.
"I can't wish for life any longer," he thought desperately. "Because I'm not leaving this room alive."
But nothing happened. The world seemed to be suspended endlessly in that confusion of shouts, noises, and dust. Perhaps the Lord had done as He had with Joshua and time had stood still amid the combat.
That was when he heard the woman's screams from below. With an effort surpassing human strength, Elijah pushed aside two of the guards and struggled to his feet, but he was quickly struck down; a soldier kicked him in the head, and he fainted.
A FEW MINUTES LATER he recovered consciousness. The Assyrians had dragged him into the street.
Still dizzy, he raised his head; every house in the neighborhood was in flames.
"An innocent, helpless woman is caught in there! Save her!"
Cries, people running in every direction, confusion everywhere. He tried to rise but was struck down again.
"Lord, Thou canst do with me as Thou wilt, for I have dedicated my life and my death to Thy cause," Elijah prayed. "But save the woman who took me in!"
Someone raised him by his arms.
"Come and see," said the Assyrian officer who knew his language. "You deserve it."
Two guards seized him and pushed him toward the door. The house was rapidly being devoured by flames, and the light from the fire illuminated everything around it. He heard cries coming from all sides: children sobbing, old men begging for forgiveness, desperate women searching for their children. But he had ears only for the pleas for help of the woman who had afforded him shelter.
"What is happening? A woman and child are inside! Why have you done this to them?"
"Because she tried to hide the governor of Akbar."
"I'm not the governor! You're making a terrible mistake!"
The Assyrian officer pushed him toward the door. The ceiling had collapsed in the fire, and the woman was half-buried in the debris. Elijah could see only her arm, moving desperately from side to side. She was asking for help, begging them not to let her be burned alive.
"Why spare me," he implored, "and do this to her?"
"We're not going to spare you, but we want you to suffer as much as possible. Our general died without honor, stoned to death, in front of the city walls. He came in search of life and was condemned to death. Now you will have the same fate."
Elijah struggled desperately to free himself, but the guards carried him away. They passed through the streets of Akbar, in infernal heat; the soldiers were sweating heavily, and some of them appeared shocked at the scene they had just witnessed. Elijah thrashed about, clamoring against the heavens, but the Assyrians were as silent as the Lord Himself.
They arrived at the square. Most of the buildings in the city were ablaze, and the sound of flames mingled with the cries of Akbar's inhabitants.
"How good that death still exists."
Since that day in the stable, how often Elijah had thought this!
The corpses of Akbar's warriors, most of them without uniforms, were spread out on the ground. He saw people running in every direction, not knowing where they were going, not knowing what they sought, guided by nothing more than the necessity of pretending they were doing something, fighting against death and destruction.
"Why do they do that?" he thought. "Don't they see the city is in the hands of the enemy and there is nowhere to flee?" Everything had happened very quickly. The Assyrians had taken advantage of their large superiority in numbers and had been able to spare their warriors from combat. Akbar's soldiers had been exterminated almost without a struggle.
They stopped in the middle of the square. Elijah was made to kneel on the ground and his hands were tied. He no longer heard the woman's screams; perhaps she had died quickly, without going through the slow torture of being burned alive. The Lord had her in His hands. And she was carrying her son at her bosom.
Another group of Assyrian soldiers brought a prisoner whose face was disfigured by numerous blows. Even so, Elijah recognized the commander.
"Long live Akbar!" he shouted. "Long life to Phoenicia and its warriors, who engage the enemy by day! Death to the cowards who attack in darkness!"
He barely had time to finish the phrase. An Assyrian general's sword descended, and the commander's head rolled along the ground.
"Now it is my turn," Elijah told himself. "I'll meet her again in paradise, where we shall stroll hand in hand."
At that moment, a man approached and began to argue with the officers. He was an inhabitant of Akbar who was wont to attend the meetings in the square. Elijah recalled having helped him resolve a serious dispute with a neighbor.
The Assyrians were arguing among themselves, their words growing louder and louder, and pointing at him. The man kneeled, kissed the feet of one of them, extended his hand toward the Fifth Mountain, and wept like a child. The invaders' fury appeared to subside.
The discussion seemed to go on endlessly. The man implored and wept the entire time, pointing to Elijah and to the house where the governor lived. The soldiers appeared dissatisfied with the conversation.
Finally, the officer who spoke his language approached.
"Our spy," he said, indicating the man, "says that we are mistaken. It was he who gave us the plans to the city, and we have confidence in what he says. It's not you we wish to kill."
He pushed him with his foot. Elijah fell to the ground.
"He says you would go to Israel and remove the princess who usurped the throne. Is that true?"
Elijah did not answer.
"Tell me if it's true," the officer insisted. "And you can leave here and return to your dwelling in time to save that woman and her son."
"Yes, it's true," he said. Perhaps the Lord had listened to him and would help him to save them.
"We could take you captive to Sidon and Tyre," the officer continued. "But we still have many battles before us, and you'd be a weight on our backs. We could demand a ransom for you, but from whom? You're a foreigner even in your own country."
The officer put his foot on Elijah's face.
"You're useless. You're no good to the enemy and no good to friends. Just like your city; it's not worth leaving part of our army here, to keep it under our rule. After we conquer the coastal cities Akbar will be ours in any case."
"I have one question," Elijah said. "Just one question."
The officer looked at him warily.
"Why did you attack at night? Don't you know that wars are fought by day?"
"We did not break the law; there is no custom that forbids it," answered the officer. "And we had a long time to become familiar with the terrain. All of you were so preoccupied with custom that you forgot that times change."
Without a further word, the group left him. The spy approached and untied his hands.
"I promised myself that I would one day repay your generosity; I have kept my word. When the Assyrians entered the palace, one of the servants told them that the man they were looking for had taken refuge in the widow's house. While they went there, the real governor was able to flee."
Elijah was not listening. Fire crackled everywhere, and the screams continued.
In the midst of the confusion, it was evident that one group still maintained discipline; obeying an invisible order, the Assyrians were silently withdrawing.
The battle of Akbar was over.
"SHE'S DEAD," he told himself. "I don't want to go there, for she is dead. Or she was saved by a miracle and will come looking for me."
His heart nevertheless bade him rise to his feet and go to the house where they lived. Elijah struggled with himself; at that moment, more than a woman's love was at stake--his entire life, his faith in the Lord's designs, the departure from the city of his birth, the idea that he had a mission and was capable of completing it.
He lo
oked about him, searching for a sword with which to take his own life, but with the Assyrians had gone every weapon in Akbar. He thought of throwing himself onto the flames of the burning houses, but he feared the pain.
For some moments he stood paralyzed. Little by little, he began recovering his awareness of the situation in which he found himself. The woman and her child must have already left this world, but he must bury them in accord with custom. At that moment the Lord's work--whether or not He existed--was his only succor. After finishing his religious duty, he would yield to pain and doubt.
Moreover, there was a possibility that they still lived. He could not remain there, doing nothing.
"I don't want to see their burned faces, the skin falling from their flesh. Their souls are already running free in heaven."
NEVERTHELESS, HE BEGAN walking toward the house, choking and blinded by the smoke that prevented his finding his way. He gradually began to comprehend the situation in the city. Although the enemy had withdrawn, panic was mounting in an alarming manner. People continued to wander aimlessly, weeping, petitioning the gods on behalf of their dead.
He looked for someone to help him. A lone man was in sight, in a total state of shock; his mind seemed distant.
"It's best to go straightway and not ask for help." He knew Akbar as if it were his native city and was able to orient himself, even without recognizing many of the places that he was accustomed to passing. In the street the cries he heard were now more coherent. The people were beginning to understand that a tragedy had taken place and that it was necessary to react.
"There's a wounded man here!" said one.
"We need more water! We're not going to be able to control the fire!" said another.
"Help me! My husband is trapped!"
He came to the place where, many months before, he had been received and given lodging as a friend. An old woman was sitting in the middle of the street, almost in front of the house, completely naked. Elijah tried to help her but was pushed away.