What Evil Can Do
Obed felt sharp knots chafing his raw skin, burning like fire. Darkness and hot, moaning bodies surrounded him. Dried sweat mixed with dirt stiffened his face into a tight mask. His legs ached and his head throbbed. The hard ground pressed into his buttocks, while pinpricks of stars flickered in a cold, distant sky. He closed his eyes, resting his forehead on his knees.
The stone city and its shimmering temple rose in his mind’s eye, sending a chill over his arms. He thought of Ishtar, images flashing like lightning in a summer storm: Ishtar sitting with Joash around an evening fire, Ishtar standing over Neb’s bloody body, Ishtar helping to evacuate the burning village, Ishtar with crazed eyes holding a knife over Aram’s daughter. Obed’s throat tightened. “Oh, God! Ishtar, what possessed you?”
A woman’s cry startled him into wakefulness. He lifted his head and stared across the motley throng. A limp child lay like a discarded piece of clothing over the woman’s lap. She peered with her head bent low, murmuring soft words.
Another woman leaned in close, attempting to touch the child.
The mother jerked the baby away with a screech.
The child’s head lolled to the side, his eyes unnaturally wide, and his body unresisting.
Obed swallowed a hard lump in his throat.
The second woman made another attempt to rouse the infant and the mother slapped her hand. They quarreled. An interested guard sauntered near. Crouching on his haunches, deep ravines furrowing his brow, he tapped the baby’s cheek. Pursing his lips, he shook his head and muttered sharply at the woman.
She hugged the baby closer, wrapping the ragged cloth tighter around it.
Rising, the guard called to an older warrior who limped over. He scowled at the two women, plucked the baby from the startled mother, and carried it away.
With an animal-like howl, the mother jerked up, but the ropes crippled her. She fell to the ground, screaming.
The other woman, crying, patted the mother’s arm and pulled her into an embrace.
Obed watched the limping man drop the baby beside another unresponsive body and hurry to a cluster of warriors clamoring for strong drink.
The mother crumpled, burying her face in the other woman’s lap.
Curling into a ball, Obed rocked like a child, wishing for the comfort of his mother…or his wife. Or death itself.
Ishtar perched on the cliff edge and watched the yellow- pink sunrise. His whole body relaxed between the cool morning air and the smooth rock under him. Though his eyes scanned the horizon for any sign of the enemy, gratitude suffused his heart. He replayed the reunion between Amin and Caleb in his mind and smiled at how they both stood awkwardly for a moment before Caleb rushed into his brother’s arms. Nodding, Ishtar applauded his eldest son’s nature, especially when the boy’s sensitive heart broke all restraint and responded to undiluted love.
Footsteps padded near.
Tobia circled around, plunked down on his right, and stretched out. He sniffed in a long breath and exhaled. “Refreshing, isn’t it?”
A grin bubbled up from Ishtar’s insides. “You’re in a good mood—better than I expected—considering everything.”
Staring straight ahead, Tobia shrugged. “I’m not in a good mood, just accepting things as they are. Mother is sick with worry over me and Obed.” He rubbed his nose. “But there’s little anyone can do until the enemy gets here.” He blinked. “I don’t even know if Obed is still alive, or if I’ll survive…”
Ishtar glanced sharply aside. “You’ll survive. The clan needs you, Tobia.”
Tobia met Ishtar’s gaze and held it a moment. With a shiver, he returned to the sunrise. “I wish they’d come, and we could get this over with.”
“The scouts say they are still almost a full day away. They won’t attack until they’re closer and have had a chance to rest before battle.”
Running his fingers through his hair, Tobia lurched forward. “I don’t know what I’ll do till then.”
With a grunt, Ishtar rose and stretched. “Well, I have something to do. I’ll leave you to coordinate with Lud and the rest of the clans.”
Frowning, Tobia climbed to his feet. “What’re you going to do?”
Tobia choked. “You can’t! There isn’t time. You’ll be caught, and then the clan will only have Lud and me.” He gripped Ishtar’s arm. “Let me go instead.”
Ishtar peered into Tobia’s eyes. “You’ve been prepared through great hardship for this trial. Think, Tobia. Your brother died because he chose what he thought was the braver path. But the bravest path of all is the one ordained through circumstance.” Ishtar sucked in a deep breath and stepped away from the cliff’s edge. “Stay here and be the leader your people need. I must free an innocent man.”
Ishtar crawled on his belly to the border of the enemy camp. Sweat dripped into his eyes, but he didn’t dare wipe it away.
The sun shone bright but clouds hovered in the west. No hint of wind stirred the surrounding grasses.
Three hundred battle-hardened warriors hitched their gear together and strapped weapons to their belts, lacing them tight against the coming march.
Ishtar nodded, muttering under his breath. “You’ll arrive at twilight. Very clever.” He glanced around.
When his eyes fell on Obed, he sucked in a breath and a whirlwind of emotions struck him: shock, fear, and anger over what had been done to the man. The image of Obed in his prime—a strong and proud warrior—wrestled in his mind with what he saw now. Filthy and hunch-shouldered, Obed sat less than a stone’s throw away from Ishtar, but he would not be easy to rescue. He sat with his legs splayed out, his hands tied behind his back, and a rope strung between him and a line of men, women, and children.
Crawling on his elbows and knees, Ishtar slithered forward.
A man on Obed’s right glanced over, his eyes rounding at the sight of Ishtar.
Ishtar glanced from the guards only a few feet away to the man and lifted a finger to his lips.
The man continued to stare, his mouth dropping open. Without further thought, Ishtar scampered over the broken grass and hard-packed earth, wedging himself between the man and a drooping boy and pressed his knife against the ropes. “Please, make no sound. I’m here to rescue those I can.”
Closing his mouth and swallowing, the man glanced at the boy leaning on his arm. “Him first.”
Ishtar nodded. He scuttled closer and sawed at the boy’s ropes. The man watched, his gaze darting up and around every few moments like a sparrow. When the ropes fell slack, the man grunted and held out his hands. Ishtar gritted his teeth and maneuvered the knife into position.
As the last threads broke, Ishtar gripped the man’s arm, squeezing it hard and hissing his words. “Do nothing just yet. Pretend you’re still tied and don’t watch me. Keep your attention on your boy.”
The man nodded.
Crawling to Obed, Ishtar lifted his knife.
Obed glanced at Ishtar, his eyes widening in shock, and jerked away, pulling the ropes attached to his neighbor tight. Yelps of anger and distress rippled along the line.
His mind nearly numb with fear, Ishtar dropped and flattened his body into the crushed grass.
A warrior sauntered by, grunted, and moved on.
Lifting his gaze, Ishtar met Obed’s anxiety-ridden face. “Don’t be afraid. I’m here to free you. The whole clan is ready for attack.”
Licking his cracked lips, Obed’s eyes narrowed. “What clan?”
A frustrated whimper escaped Ishtar as he clenched the knife tighter and began sawing the rope fibers. “Your clan…my clan…our people.” He glanced at the warriors and then back at Obed. “This must be confusing, but please—by God—trust me and let me cut your ropes.”
Shouts rang through the camp, and the warriors began assembling into groups. Guards marched along the line, kicking the prisoners. “Get up! Time to move on. Hurry, you lazy mongrels.”
Fighting a cramp in his hand, Ishtar sawed the rope around Obed’s waist faster.
As the rope fell free, a warrior stomped by, flailing his arms. “To the fires with you! Get moving!”
Obed and Ishtar rose together, their gazes cast down.
As the guard turned to the next group, Ishtar pressed the blade against the ropes binding Obed’s hands. The prisoners shuffled forward. Ishtar kept pace, his eyes down, working frantically to break the fibers.
They passed over rough terrain dotted with rises and huge rocks. Ishtar cut the last remaining strings and yanked Obed aside, dragging him into the shaded crevice between two boulders.
Obed fell flat on his face and curled up into a ball.
Ishtar crouched close, shielding Obed’s body with his own and prayed for rain.
Obed started at the sound of drops splattering on the hard ground. He looked up and met Ishtar’s gaze. Then he rubbed his eyes. “I can’t believe—”
Ishtar grunted. “There were a few clouds on the horizon when I came. I’m grateful for the storm; it’ll help hide us…and our footsteps.”
Closing his eyes, Obed groaned, stretched, and rubbed his arms and legs. “That’s not what I meant.”
Darting a glance at the backs of the departing enemy, Ishtar pointed south. “If we head for the cliffs, we can hide in safety, and when they’re taking their rest, we can finish our journey and warn Lud and the others.”
Heavy with sarcasm, Obed chuckled. “Great plan.” With a grimace, he staggered to his feet.
Ishtar scanned the area again and started forward.
Watching Ishtar, memories flooded Obed’s mind: Ishtar holding a knife over Aram’s sleeping daughter, his death struggle with his wife, Haruz, and her bloody body lying in the dirt. Fury flushing through his aching body, Obed gripped Ishtar’s arm. “Wait! I’m not going anywhere until I understand how you, of all people, happen to be the one to rescue me.”
His eyes flashing, Ishtar glared at Obed and waved toward home. “You want me to explain—now? My sons, your wife, and children, Barak’s family—the whole clan is about to be attacked, and you want me to—”
Obed slammed Ishtar against the rock wall, blind fury burying all reason. “By the devil, I’ve been through too much to trust you now.”
Closing his eyes, Ishtar lifted his hands in an attitude of surrender.
Jerking away, Obed faced the rain.
Dark clouds rumbled overhead, but patches of blue broke through in the west.
Opening his eyes, Ishtar shoved off the wall and spoke to Obed’s back. “I slipped into madness, encountered a nomad who cared for me better than I deserved, and regained a sense of decency.” Ishtar shrugged. “Perhaps I discovered a decency in me I never knew was there.”
Curling his lips through a sneer, Obed turned around and stared Ishtar in the face. “You didn’t have to sacrifice anyone?”
“I protected a father from the evil deeds of his sons.”
With his eyes fixed on Ishtar, Obed snorted. “Fate or justice?”
“It doesn’t matter. I did it for one simple reason.”
Obed waited, his teeth clenched so hard his jaw hurt.
“I loved the old man.”
A miserable chill seeped through Obed’s body.
“I understand your mistrust. But you have no idea what evil can do to a man—if he gets too close.”
A sob rose in Obed’s chest. “But I do.” Relaxing his fists, he straightened and started forward. “Let’s go home.”
“…the Dark cannot claim what Light does not surrender.” ~
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