The Book of War Read online

  However, in the end, they were resigned to the fact that all paths would end in destruction and perhaps the path that allowed them to engage in activity and to move their legs may be more endurable than the one of unbearable, endless waiting. So slowly, they roused themselves and allowed themselves to be lead by their enigmatic, and perhaps even insane, saviour. That this whole “escape” may be some bizarre trick occurred to many of them but they no longer had the will or the energy to question or even care.

  The palace was quiet as its inhabitants slumbered. The darkness that covered the main corridors of the palace were punctuated periodically by hanging oil lamps. Some of the lamps were not lit to save on fuel, leaving larger distances between the oases of light. The occasional servant stirred through the corridors on errands or tasks that had to be completed despite, or perhaps because of, the hour. Even if such a servant was curious at the unusual sight of one of the king’s advisers leading a ragged, mix of nomads through the palace, none had the status or temerity to question it.

  The wise man lead the group to one of the smaller servant entrances. The entrance was small, narrow and dark at the best of times. At this hour, it was completely dark, having no lit lamp and the wise man had to fumble to find and release the latch.

  Outside, the small pathway was almost as dark as it was inside save that the clear night was lit by a gibbous moon nearing fullness and a full, rich complement of stars. Relying on his knowledge of the city, the wise man lead the disparate group through many of the alleys and laneways to avoid running into people who may be around even at that time of the night.

  After a half hour walk the wise man arrived at the place he had been seeking. In front of him was large walled pond now almost completely dry. Connected to the dried up pond was a channel, also dry, which extended back to a small stone wall where it disappeared.

  The wise man knew that the pond was an old cistern and that the channel had been dug to direct water from a stream outside of the city to be collected in the cistern. However, the stream had long ago changed course and the cistern was no longer in use and had been largely forgotten.

  The wise man also knew that the dry channel was hidden by thick bushes and high walls for most of its length and went under the city walls, opening up some distance from the city outer walls. At its narrowest, it was deep and wide enough for men to crawl through two abreast and for most of its length, two or three could walk upright.

  Indicating to the others to follow him, the wise man followed the channel to the small stone wall and pulled aside some of the bushes revealing a hole at the base of the wall. It was only now that the wise man felt he could risk lighting the lamp he had brought with him. In the open, it gave off very little light but when lowered into the hole, the light reflected off the walls and threw flickering shadows.

  The sound of small scurrying feet could be heard and the wise man moved the lamp around to ensure that no vermin still lurked in any dark corners. Slowly, he lowered himself into the hole, the lamp stretched out in front of him and he beckoned for the others to follow.

  The ground was dry and the air was surprisingly fresh, though with an earthy smell. With only the small lamp to light the way, the fugitives pushed forward on hands and knees. The ground sloped slightly upward as they moved forward. After several long cubits, the ceiling of ground and stone above them gave way to a ceiling of vegetation. In the middle of the night, this appeared to be just as impenetrable and intimidating as the ceiling of ground and stone. Some of the vegetation had sent down roots and branches into the channel which had to be broken and cut away to make a passage through. But in most places, the narrow channel was open allowing the fugitives to walk upright. Their presence was hidden by high walls on either side, often covered in vines, rugs, hanging baskets, nets and other domestic paraphernalia.

  They arrived finally at the place where the channel ran under the city inner walls. The wise man looked for the small opening under the wall, almost blocked by dirt. Finding it, he cleared as much as he could and poked his lamp in to frighten whatever may be hiding within. Then, squeezing close to the ground, he crawled in with the lamp held in front of him. The others followed his lead.

  The small passage ran for three or four body lengths and then they were clear again in an open passage, concealed on both sides by walls. However, they were even more inclined to silence as they knew that everything outside the inner walls were now occupied by enemy forces.

  The passage to the outer walls was even longer than that to the inner walls and was more winding and twisted. Moreover, there were many sections where the channel had been covered with walkways and bridges. Care had to be taken in those areas in case anyone was passing over but all was quiet.

  In one section, they almost lost all hope when it appeared that the channel had been blocked completely. But careful and diligent searching identified a small hole which, with much shovelling with bare hands, opened up to a tunnel under a stonework plaza which went for five or six body lengths. Crawling through this space was the most arduous part of the journey.

  Finally they reached the city outer walls.

  As with the inner walls, there was a small opening at the base of the wall through which the fugitives pushed their way into. The passage under the outer walls went for three body lengths but then their progress was halted by a thick bush growing at the exit of the tunnel. The bush was quite large and robust and appeared to have been growing there for some time. Its size effectively hid the channel from the outside world and the invading army in particular.

  Laying on his stomach, with the lamp in one hand, the wise man tried vainly to break through the branches of the bush with one hand. He thought briefly of setting fire to the bush but that was much too dangerous in this confined space and the light could draw unwanted attention. Deciding that strength was more useful than light at this time, he passed his lamp back to one of the others and used both hands to push at the bush. The branches merely sprang back defiantly.

  Feeling a tap on his leg, he turned his head slightly in the confined space to see the man behind him indicating for him to come back. Crawling backwards, the wise man came back out of the tunnel.

  One of the men put his fingers to his lips to indicate silence and then pointed to another man with broad shoulders and well defined muscular arms. The wise man nodded and the large man entered head first into the tunnel. Soon they heard the muffled sounds of branches cracking.

  Re-entering the tunnel, the wise man saw that enough of the branches had been broken off to enable each person to squeeze through. When all had passed through, the wise man guided the fugitives to the shadows hanging the wall and addressed the travellers.

  “My friends,” he stated, “our ways must part now. We all face uncertain futures. You in the land occupied by a foreign force and me in a city occupied by fear. While I have been tempted to consider fleeing with you, I cannot desert my family and friends in their time of need, even though I know they will not understand my actions.”

  “Nevertheless, I pray, and have faith in the God who dwells in Eternity, that He will guard your path and lead you to peace. Farewell.”

  With that, the wise man left the bewildered travellers and returned to the tunnel which had, only minutes before, given birth to the unlikely group.

  Holding the lamp which had been returned to him, the wise man examined the branches which had been broken off. He crawled backwards into the hole, trying to replace the broken branches in such a way that he hoped that the hole would be concealed as it had been previously.

  Without further hesitation, the wise man hurried back to the palace.

  ****

  The king observed his one-time friend and trusted adviser standing before him with suspicion and a deceptive calmness that hid a boiling rage that threatened to break free at any moment.

  On either side of the seated king, his advisers stood, forming a semi-circle in front of the accused.
Two guards, as solid and unmoving as columns stood on either side of the man.

  The guards who had eventually awakened from their induced slumber, had already testified to the treachery. Any denial by the traitor was futile.

  But there was one piece of information which the king lacked.

  “Where have you hidden the prisoners?” the king asked the wise man.

  “I have taken them, My Lord, to a place where even you cannot reach them. I’ve taken them physically into the other world,” the wise man answered calmly.

  The king knew that the wise man was lying but he also knew that the gates and inner walls were well guarded and there was no way that the prisoners could have left the city without a widespread conspiracy on a scale that the king scarcely believed possible. But still…

  His voice as cold as ice, his eyes as piercing as fire, the king studied the wise man and asked, “Who aided you in this endeavour? Who else has betrayed me?”

  “No one, My Lord”, the wise man answered quietly.

  The king noticed the barely perceptible relaxation of muscles. The slight, unconscious easing of tension resulting from the letting go of the mental strain required to deceive. So it was clear that the wise man was telling the truth and had acted alone.

  The wise man, his head lowered, tried to stand as still as possible under the scrutiny of the king in the uncomfortable silence that ensued.

  The king prided himself on his own clarity of vision; his ability to penetrate quickly through the jumble of detail and information to understand what was important and necessary, leading to decisive action. But now the jumbled pieces seem to swim endlessly around him without any hint of crystalizing. He felt the pressure of time, with each passing moment. And with each passing moment of silence, the king could feel his authority and his power slipping away from him. He could almost hear the thoughts of each member of his court, questioning their king’s leadership and authority; his ability to lead his people through the greatest crisis that they had ever faced.

  But still the king was silent. Before him stood one of his most trusted advisers and friend and also one of the most treasonous traitors and enemy he had encountered. A friend and an enemy stood before him and his mind struggled to reconcile the two as one man. Which was the ultimate truth? He could not say.

  However, one thing was clear. He had been defied. When all around the city there was chaos and disorder, the king could not afford to be soft. The soldier on the wall stood and fought without questioning or wavering because he knew beyond doubt that this city stood firm and secure on its foundation which was their king. Each word uttered by the king was formed in stone and was as unshakable as the mountains. If any one of those guarding the city thought otherwise…

  “My word stands,” the king uttered finally, raising himself out of the depth of his contemplation. “The traitors will be executed as sentenced.”

  “The queen has spoken on behalf of your wife and her life will be spared,” the king said, focusing his eyes on the wise man and breathing deeply to give full voice to his judgement. “But for you….. You have sacrificed your own life in order to save the lives of thieves, traitors and sinners.”

  ****

  The bleeding had stopped but the left side of his face had swelled up so that he had trouble opening his eye. The guards who he had tricked had taken their revenge.

  The wise man sat in the corner of his cell in the palace dungeons. Around him all was darkness as there was no light in the cell. All was silent, apart from the occasional small scurrying sound which he tied not to think about. At times, something would brush past and he would send it scurrying away with a few blind kicks.

  Across from him he knew, but could not see, a thick wooden door barred his freedom.

  Beyond the door, he could hear some muffled voices. He recognised the voice of his beloved Sarai and heard the guard say clearly, “The king has given orders that he is to receive no visitors.” He then heard the sound of metal clinking as money changed hands. Then a patch of light opened up in front of him and a woman’s shape, framed by the light, came towards him.

  “What have you done?” Sarai hissed at him. “What have you done to us? What were you thinking? How am I to survive without you? Who is going to welcome into their house the widow of a traitor? What will become of me?”

  Suddenly Sarai saw the cuts on his face, the puffed up, scabby lips, the swollen check and the closed eye encircled by red, angry flesh and her anger evaporated and she fell on him, tears pouring down her cheeks.

  For some time they held each other without speaking. There didn’t seem to be any words to say. “The wise man has become the fool,” thought the wise man.

  ****

  The traitor was lead out between two guards to the palace courtyard which was to be the place of execution. A crowd had already gathered around the place in large numbers.

  The people’s fear, which had been a constant, intangible and unwelcome companion for so long, now had a face. A face that could be confronted and addressed and the people gave full vent to the anger and hatred.

  The crowd roared on every side shouting obscenities at the wise man and howling like wild animals. The palace guards made their presence felt, physically restraining the crowds where necessary. A stone flew through the air out of nowhere and struck the wise man a glancing blow across the side of the head. A spray of red fountained and oozed over his already swollen cheek. From another direction he was hit by something that splattered on impact and gave off a foul stench.

  While the jeering continued, he was lead to a large stone which had been placed in the courtyard for the execution. Near the stone the executioner stood with sword in hand. The wise man was made to kneel before the stone, placing his face on the rough surface.

  Then the crowd almost instantly became silent as they strained forward in order not to miss an instant of the spectacle before them, to witness first-hand the destruction of their enemy.

  There were no words. The king was not present. This final act was for the common people. For the higher born, the more subtle drama had already been played out behind closed doors and thick walls.

  The executioner raised his sword.

  Suddenly, there was confusion. A noise or shout in the crowd which was indistinct but unambiguous in its intensity and in its panic. The shout was repeated once, twice and then even more times by different people. People turned away from the execution to ask his or her neighbour the meaning of the shouting. The sword hovered in mid-air.

  And then, almost at once, the message infiltrated the combined consciousness of the crowd and a mass panic arose. The city inner walls had been breached. The enemy was in the inner city and that enemy was not a man kneeling with his face on a stone but rather a vast army of ruthless men.

  As people rushed, panicking in all directions, the man kneeling at the stone was completely forgotten with the executioner’s sword left abandoned beside him.

  The news of the enemy’s infiltration of the inner city and his own unexpected salvation, penetrated the wise man’s consciousness slowly. As he comprehended his predicament, one thought seemed clear. The enemy had probably gained access to the city through knowledge gained from one of the men he had helped escape. The wise man realised that, most likely, in truth he was a traitor and he had in fact foolishly brought about the destruction of his own people and his own city. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he realised the unbearable, unthinkable consequences of his own foolish actions.

  He picked up the sword which had been left abandoned, knowing that its unfinished job needed to be completed. Still kneeling before the stone, he turned the sword so that its hilt was close to the ground and its point raised towards his stomach.

  As he prepared to fall upon the sword, strong hands grabbed his arms and prevented the plunge. He looked up and saw a farmer standing over him and his face appeared to be familiar. Then recognition finally dawned and he re
alised that the face belonged to one of the travellers he had helped escaped but he was now wearing farmer’s clothing.

  The panicked crowd were still struggling to leave the courtyard through the narrow exits. The traveller beckoned the wise man to follow. The two of them headed towards one of the exits where people were pushing and shoving and yelling incoherently at each other. The wise man followed dumbly; not knowing why but rather blindly letting himself be led in order to avoid thinking for all thought was painful and impossible to bear.

  It was a struggle for the two of them to get through the exit as any moment they could have tripped and been trampled under the feet of the mob. But once through, the traveller quickly led the wise man away and then the wise man realised where they were going as their path led towards the hidden channel which led out of the city. To the wise man’s surprise and confusion, it still appeared to be abandoned. He expected it, or the surrounding area, to be swarming with enemy warriors if it had been the enemy’s means of entrance into the inner city.

  The traveller led the wise man into the channel and the wise man found himself re-tracing the path he had taken not so long ago. The traveller pushed aside the broken bush at the far end of the channel outside the outer wall to allow them to get out and then carefully replaced the broken bits of the bush to conceal the hole once more.

  ****

  The small farmhouse to which the traveller brought the wise man was well concealed in a narrow valley. The travellers had stumbled upon it because, after escaping the city, they took care to avoid being seen by the besieging army and progressed slowly, staying in crevices and covered gorges until by accident they had stumbled upon the hidden valley and the abandoned farmhouse.

  The original inhabitants had obviously left in a great hurry leaving a small flock of sheep, a few goats and a donkey behind, as well as clothing and other provisions. They must have fled, probably to the mountains, when the invading army came.

  The invading army had obviously failed to discover the hidden valley as no doubt the livestock and provisions would have been taken to feed the large army.

  It was clear that the travellers had not betrayed the city to the invading army but had planned to escape entirely until they stumbled on the farmhouse. Even then, they had not intended to stay long. However, one of the travellers, the father of the small boy accused of spying, felt that he would go back into the city to see what had befallen their rescuer and also to get some news and other provisions if possible.