Fifth Mountain: A Novel

  "It will never return."

  "You look like a wise young man, and you can understand many things that I cannot. But nature has taught me something that I shall never forget: a man who depends on the weather and the seasons, as only a shepherd does, manages to survive the unavoidable. He cares for his flock, treats each animal as if it were the only one, tries to help the mothers with their young, is never too far from a place where the animals can drink. Still, now and again one of the lambs to which he gave so much of himself dies in an accident. It might be a snake, some wild animal, or even a fall over a cliff. But the unavoidable always happens."

  Elijah looked in the direction of Akbar and recalled his conversation with the angel. The unavoidable always happens.

  "You need discipline and patience to overcome it," the shepherd said.

  "And hope. When that no longer exists, one can't waste his energy fighting against the impossible."

  "It's not a question of hope in the future. It's a question of re-creating your own past."

  The shepherd was no longer in a hurry; his heart was filled with pity for the refugees who stood facing him. As he and his family had been spared the tragedy, it cost nothing to help them, and thus to thank the gods. Moreover, he had heard talk of the Israelite prophet who had climbed the Fifth Mountain without being slain by the fire from heaven; everything indicated that it was the man before him.

  "You can stay another day if you wish."

  "I didn't understand what you said before," commented Elijah. "About re-creating your own past."

  "I have long seen people passing through here on their way to Sidon and Tyre. Some of them complained that they had not achieved anything in Akbar and were setting out for a new destiny.

  "One day these people would return. They had not found what they were seeking, for they carried with them, along with their bags, the weight of their earlier failure. A few returned with a government position, or with the joy of having given their children a better life, but nothing more. Their past in Akbar had left them fearful, and they lacked the confidence in themselves to take risks.

  "On the other hand, there also passed my door people full of ardor. They had profited from every moment of life in Akbar and through great effort had accumulated the money for their journey. To these people, life was a constant triumph and would go on being one.

  "These people also returned, but with wonderful tales to tell. They had achieved everything they desired because they were not limited by the frustrations of the past."

  THE SHEPHERD'S WORDS touched Elijah's heart.

  "It is not difficult to rebuild a life, just as it is not impossible to raise Akbar from its ruins," the shepherd continued. "It is enough to be aware that we go on with the same strength that we had before. And to use that in our favor."

  The man gazed into Elijah's eyes.

  "If you have a past that dissatisfies you, forget it now," he went on. "Imagine a new story of your life, and believe in it. Concentrate only on those moments in which you achieved what you desired, and this strength will help you to accomplish what you want."

  "There was a moment when I desired to be a carpenter, and later I wanted to be a prophet sent to save Israel," Elijah thought. "Angels descended from the heavens, the Lord spoke to me. Until I understood that He is not just and that His motives are always beyond my understanding."

  The shepherd called to his wife, saying that he was not leaving; he had already been to Akbar on foot, and he was too weary to walk farther.

  "Thank you for receiving us," Elijah said.

  "It is no burden to shelter you for one night."

  The boy interrupted the conversation. "We want to go back to Akbar."

  "Wait till morning. The city is being sacked by its own inhabitants, and there is nowhere to sleep."

  The boy looked at the ground, bit his lip, and once again held back tears. The shepherd led them into the house, calmed his wife and children, and, to distract them, spent the rest of the day talking about the weather.

  THE NEXT DAY THEY AWOKE EARLY, ATE THE MEAL PREPARED by the shepherd's wife, and went to the door of the house.

  "May your life be long and your flock grow ever larger," said Elijah. "I have eaten what my body had need of, and my soul has learned what it did not know. May God never forget what you did for us, and may your sons not be strangers in a strange land."

  "I don't know to which God you refer; there are many who dwell on the Fifth Mountain," the shepherd said brusquely, then quickly changed his tone. "Remember the good things you have done. They will give you courage."

  "I have done very few such things, and none of them was because of my abilities."

  "Then it's time to do more."

  "Perhaps I could have prevented the invasion."

  The shepherd laughed.

  "Even if you were governor of Akbar, you would not be able to stop the unavoidable."

  "Perhaps the governor of Akbar should have attacked the Assyrians when they first arrived in the valley with few troops. Or negotiated peace, before war broke out."

  "Everything that could have happened but did not is carried away with the wind and leaves no trace," said the shepherd. "Life is made of our attitudes. And there are certain things that the gods oblige us to live through. Their reason for this does not matter, and there is no action we can take to make them pass us by."

  "Why?"

  "Ask a certain Israelite prophet who lived in Akbar. He seems to have the answer to everything."

  The man went to the fence. "I must take my flock to pasture," he said. "Yesterday they didn't go out, and they're impatient."

  He took his leave with a wave of his hand, departing with his sheep.

  THE BOY AND THE MAN WALKED THROUGH THE VALLEY.

  "You're walking slowly," the boy said. "You're afraid of what might happen to you."

  "I'm afraid only of myself," Elijah replied. "They can do me no harm because my heart has ceased to be."

  "The God that brought me back from death is alive. He can bring back my mother, if you do the same thing to the city."

  "Forget that God. He's far away and no longer does the miracles we hope for from Him."

  The old shepherd was right. From this moment on, it was necessary to reconstruct his own past, forget that he had once thought himself to be a prophet who would free Israel but had failed in his mission of saving even one city.

  The thought gave him a strange sense of euphoria. For the first time in his life he felt free, ready to do whatever he desired whenever he wished. True, he would hear no more angels, but as compensation he was free to return to Israel, to go back to work as a carpenter, to travel to Greece to learn the thoughts of wise men, or to journey with Phoenician navigators to the lands across the sea.

  First, however, he must avenge himself. He had dedicated the best years of his youth to an unheeding God who was constantly giving commands and always did things in His own fashion. Elijah had learned to accept His decisions and to respect His designs.

  But his loyalty had been rewarded by abandonment, his dedication had been ignored, his efforts to comply with the Supreme Being's will had led to the death of the only woman he had ever loved.

  "Thou hast the strength of the world and the stars," said Elijah in his native tongue, so that the boy beside him would not understand the words. "Thou canst destroy a city, a country, as we destroy insects. Send, then, Thy fire from heaven and end my life, for if Thou dost not, I shall go against Thy handiwork."

  Akbar loomed in the distance. He took the boy's hand and grasped it tightly.

  "From this moment until we go through the city gates, I am going to walk with my eyes closed, and you must guide me," he told the boy. "If I die on the way, do what you have asked me to do: rebuild Akbar, even if to do so you must first grow to manhood and learn to cut wood or work stone."

  The boy did not reply. Elijah closed his eyes and allowed himself to be led. He heard the blowing of the wind and the sound of his own
steps in the sand.

  He remembered Moses, who, after liberating the Chosen People and leading them through the desert, surmounting enormous difficulties, had been forbidden by God to enter Canaan. At the time, Moses had said:

  "I pray Thee, let me go over, and see the good land that is beyond Jordan."

  The Lord, however, had been offended by his entreaty. And He had answered, "Let it suffice thee; speak no more unto Me of this matter. Lift up thine eyes westward, and northward, and southward, and eastward, and behold it with thine eyes; for thou shalt not go over this Jordan."

  Thus had the Lord rewarded the long and arduous task of Moses: He had not permitted him to set foot in the Promised Land. What would have happened if he had disobeyed?

  Elijah again turned his thoughts to the heavens.

  "O Lord, this battle was not between Assyrians and Phoenicians but between Thee and me. Thou didst not foretell to me our singular war, and as ever, Thou hast triumphed and seen Thy will made manifest. Thou hast destroyed the woman I loved and the city that took me in when I was far from my homeland."

  The sound of the wind was louder in his ears. Elijah was afraid, but he continued.

  "I cannot bring the woman back, but I can change the fate of Thy work of destruction. Moses accepted Thy will and did not cross the river. But I shall go forward: slay me now, because if Thou allowest me to arrive at the gates of the city, I shall rebuild that which Thou wouldst sweep from the face of the earth. And I shall go against Thy judgment."

  He fell silent. He emptied his mind and waited for death. For a long time he concentrated on nothing beyond the sound of his footsteps in the sand; he did not want to hear the voices of angels or threats from heaven. His heart was free, and no longer did he fear what might befall him. Yet in the depths of his soul was the beginning of disquiet, as if he had forgotten a thing of importance.

  After much time had passed, the boy stopped, then tugged on Elijah's arm.

  "We've arrived," he said.

  Elijah opened his eyes. The fire from heaven had not descended on him, and before him were the ruined walls of Akbar.

  HE LOOKED AT THE BOY, WHO NOW CLUTCHED ELIJAH'S hand as if fearing that he might escape. Did he love him? He had no idea. But such reflections could wait till later; for now, he had a task to carry out--the first in many years not imposed upon him by God.

  From where they stood, he could smell the odor of burning. Scavenger birds circled overhead, awaiting the right moment to devour the corpses of the sentinels that lay rotting in the sun. Elijah approached one of the fallen soldiers and took the sword from his belt. In the confusion of the previous night, the Assyrians had forgotten to gather up the weapons outside the city walls.

  "Why do you want that?" the boy asked.

  "To defend myself."

  "The Assyrians aren't here anymore."

  "Even so, it's good to have it with me. We have to be prepared."

  His voice shook. It was impossible to know what might happen from the moment they crossed the half-destroyed wall, but he was ready to kill whoever tried to humiliate him.

  "Like this city, I too was destroyed," he told the boy. "But also like this city, I have not yet completed my mission."

  The boy smiled.

  "You're talking the way you used to," he said.

  "Don't be fooled by words. Before, I had the objective of removing Jezebel from the throne and turning Israel back to the Lord; now that He has forgotten us, we must forget Him. My mission is to do what you have asked of me."

  The boy looked at him warily.

  "Without God, my mother will not come back from the dead."

  Elijah ran his hand over the boy's hair.

  "Only your mother's body has gone away. She is still among us, and as she told us, she is Akbar. We must help her recover her beauty."

  THE CITY was almost deserted. Old people, women, and children were walking aimlessly through its streets, in a repetition of the scene he had witnessed the night of the invasion. They seemed uncertain of what to do next.

  Each time Elijah's path crossed that of someone else, the boy saw him grip the handle of his sword. But the people displayed indifference; most recognized the prophet from Israel, some nodded at him, but none directed a single word to him, not even one of hatred.

  "They've lost even the sense of rage," he thought, looking toward the top of the Fifth Mountain, the summit of which was covered as always by its eternal clouds. Then he recalled the Lord's words:

  "I will cast your carcasses upon the carcasses of your idols, and my soul shall abhor you. And I will make your cities waste, and bring the land into desolation.

  "And upon them that are left alive of you I will send a faintness into their hearts; and the sound of a shaken leaf shall chase them; and they shall fall when none pursueth."

  "BEHOLD, O LORD, WHAT THOU HAST WROUGHT: THOU hast kept Thy promise, and the living dead still walk the earth. And Akbar is the city chosen to shelter them."

  Elijah and the boy continued to the main square, where they sat and rested on pieces of rubble while they surveyed their surroundings. The destruction seemed more severe and unrelenting than he had thought; the roofs of most of the houses had collapsed; filth and insects had taken over everything.

  "The dead must be removed," he said. "Or plague will enter the city through the main gate."

  The boy kept his eyes downward.

  "Raise your head," Elijah said. "We have much work to do, so your mother can be content."

  But the boy did not obey; he was beginning to understand: somewhere among the ruins was the body that had brought him into life, and that body was in a condition similar to all the others scattered on every side.

  Elijah did not insist. He rose, lifted a corpse to his shoulders, and carried it to the middle of the square. He could not remember the Lord's recommendations about burying the dead; what he must do was prevent the coming of plague, and the only solution was to burn them.

  He worked the entire morning. The boy did not stir from his place, nor did he raise his eyes for an instant, but he kept his promise to his mother: no tear dropped to Akbar's soil.

  A woman stopped and stood for a time observing Elijah's efforts.

  "The man who solved the problems of the living now puts in order the bodies of the dead," she commented.

  "Where are the men of Akbar?" Elijah asked.

  "They left, and they took with them the little that remained. There is nothing left worth staying for. The only ones who haven't deserted the city are those incapable of leaving: the old, widows, and orphans."

  "But they were here for generations. They can't give up so easily."

  "Try to explain that to someone who has lost everything."

  "Help me," said Elijah, taking another corpse onto his shoulders and placing it on the pile. "We're going to burn them, so that the plague god will not come to visit us. He is horrified by the smell of burning flesh."

  "Let the plague god come," said the woman. "And may he take us all, as soon as possible."

  Elijah went on with his task. The woman sat down beside the boy and watched what he was doing. After a time, she approached him again.

  "Why do you want to save this wretched city?"

  "If I stop to reflect on it, I'll conclude I'm incapable of accomplishing what I desire," he answered.

  The old shepherd was right: the only solution was to forget a past of uncertainty and create a new history for oneself. The former prophet had died together with a woman in the flames of her house; now he was a man without faith in God and beset by doubts. But he was still alive, even after challenging divine retribution. If he wished to continue on this path, he must do what he had proposed.

  The woman chose one of the lighter bodies and dragged it by the heels, taking it to the pile that Elijah had started.

  "It's not from fear of the plague god," she said. "Or for Akbar, since the Assyrians will soon return. It's for that boy sitting there with his head hanging; he has to l
earn that he still has his life ahead of him."

  "Thank you," said Elijah.

  "Don't thank me. Somewhere in these ruins we'll find the body of my son. He was about the same age as the boy."

  She lifted her hand to her face and wept copiously. Elijah took her gently by the arm.

  "The pain you and I feel will never go away, but work will help us to bear it. Suffering has no strength to wound a weary body."

  They spent the entire day at the macabre task of collecting and piling up the dead; most of them were youths, whom the Assyrians had identified as part of Akbar's army. More than once he recognized friends, and wept--but he did not interrupt his task.

  AT THE END of the afternoon, they were exhausted. Even so, the work done was far from sufficient, and no other inhabitant of Akbar had assisted.

  The pair approached the boy, who lifted his head for the first time.

  "I'm hungry," he said.

  "I'm going to go look for something," the woman answered. "There's plenty of food hidden in the various houses in Akbar; people were preparing for a long siege."

  "Bring food for me and for yourself, for we are ministering to the city with the sweat of our brows," said Elijah. "But if the boy wants to eat, he will have to take care of himself."

  The woman understood; she would have done the same with her son. She went to the place where her house had stood; almost everything had been ransacked by looters in search of objects of value, and her collection of vases, created by the great master glassmakers of Akbar, lay in pieces on the floor. But she found the dried fruits and grain that she had cached.

  She returned to the square, where she divided part of the food with Elijah. The boy said nothing.

  An old man approached them.

  "I saw that you spent all day gathering the bodies," he said. "You're wasting your time; don't you know the Assyrians will be back, after they conquer Sidon and Tyre? Let the plague god come here and destroy them."

  "We're not doing this for them, or for ourselves," Elijah answered. "She is working to teach a child that there is still a future. And I am working to show him there is no longer a past."

  "So the prophet is no more a threat to the great princess of Sidon: what a surprise! Jezebel will rule Israel till the end of her days, and we shall always have a refuge if the Assyrians are not generous to the conquered."