Rebellion

Stroking his beard, Rabbi Ezra said, "Go, and go now! God go with you. I will try to distract the Persian guard’s commander to allow you to get out of here without being molested”

Uthamel nodded and held out his hands to the two boys, who stood up quickly and each took one of them. He knelt down to look them in the eye and said, his voice a rasping whisper, “Now, you must remain quiet, do you understand?” The boys nodded, their breaths coming in short gasps. “There is no reason to fear. You will be safe if you do just as I say. Got that?”

They mumbled, “Yes, Lord,” together, looking at each other. Then they set their mouths in thin straight lines, as if they had been sewn completely closed and wild horses could not open them.

“Very good, boys. Now follow me”

The boys accompanied their protector quietly to the door. Uthamel stuck his head out and looked first to the left and then to the right. Seeing no one, “the Angel of Death” emerged into the hall and turned left, half walking, half running toward the rooms whence they had come. The boys marveled that though they could see his boots striding along, they seemed to make no sound, as if he were floating above the floor. David counted the torches as they passed underneath them, recalling that there had been about twenty on his way in. Those that were still lit flickered sullenly and dimly in this dark hallway. David was at the same time glad for the light and wary of it: it might be safer to be in total darkness rather than to be exposed as they were now.

At about the tenth torch, they reached a turn in the hallway and were about to follow the passage when a scuffling sound mixed with the clink of metal on metal could be heard, though it seemed distant. The dark man stopped suddenly and flattened himself against the wall, as did the boys, their hearts beating rapidly now and perspiration running down their cheeks and forearms. Their protector looked down at them and put a finger to his lips. David and Azmaveth nodded. David then glanced at Azmaveth and saw that he was staring knives at him through those slitted eyes of his. David groaned inwardly. His friend was not going to forget who had gotten him into this, and David knew that he’d eventually have to deal with Azmaveth. He hoped it would be later rather than sooner.

Uthamel peeked around the corner. He motioned down to the boys a sign indicating that the hall was clear, but for a moment only. Hurrying after him, they turned the corner rapidly and ducked into a room just past the corner. Immediately, whispering voices could be heard, and the metallic clinks were getting louder as well. The dark man grabbed the hilt of his curved sword as he lay flat against the wall next to the doorway. David and Azmaveth saw his knuckles turn white on the hilt. When he looked down at them and shook his head slowly, they saw that his scar was now glowing bright pink.

David felt as if some terrible doom had been pronounced on them. How he regretted his stupidity in coming here! He leaned over to his shaking friend (knowing that it was not necessarily fear that caused this reaction) and whispered into his ear, “I’m so very sorry, Azi. Really! I am”

Azmaveth growled a whisper back, “I’m going to kill you when we get out of here, David”

David believed him. At least that the boy might die trying.

“Shush!” commanded Uthamel quietly.

David looked up to see their protector’s eyes glaring at them. Now he understood why people feared this man as they did: with that look he could freeze the blood in your veins. And the boys were not even his enemies! Imagine what that look might do to those who were. Maybe the men coming down the hall were killers by nature and bent on murder. But this man, the boy realized, was more than that. It came to him suddenly that the dark man carried God’s awful judgment on the edge of his sword. David shuddered at the thought. He then glanced over at his friend, and he realized that Azmaveth was still staring at him, his eyes glaring fire. Oh God, what have I done? David thought, shaking his head, his eyes drifting upward toward the ceiling. He shuddered again.

The whispering and clinking got gradually louder. Shadows were approaching the open doorway. Uthamel slowly and quietly withdrew his sword and raised it, holding it straight up and down with both hands, the hilt near his shoulder. The boys stopped breathing as they saw the back of the first man moving stealthily along the passageway. Then another and another came. The men were covered from head to foot in black, their boots had cloth wrapped around them, and they wore tight masks over their heads. Their swords were out of their scabbards and pointing forward as they moved along down the hall, passing the open doorway. The men were whispering among themselves. David had counted fifteen shadows so far.

Both the boys and their companion heard the name Ezra whispered by one of them as he passed the door, though what else they said the boys could not understand because the intruders spoke in a foreign language. As the name Ezra wafted over the boys, they sensed Uthamel stiffen. They looked up to see him bare his teeth. They noticed the muscles of his forearms tighten. And they sensed something else happening, something otherwise inexplicable: that his whole body was coiling to strike. During this time, David had grown so faint with holding his breath he got dizzy to the point of passing out. But as the last figure passed in front of the open doorway, he began to let out his breath a little. Raising his eyes again toward the ceiling, David gave a silent prayer of thanksgiving that none of these awful men, by the grace of almighty God, had bothered to stop and look in through the door. As the last man passed, the boy began breathing again. But he quickly sucked in his breath when the dark man lightly tapped the tip of his sword on the wall.

David could sense that the men had stopped, at least if their sudden silence was any indication. Then he could as much as see them turn slowly toward that sound. Chills shot through his whole body, the hair on his arms rose and goose bumps covered his body. His heart beat so rapidly now, he thought it might jump out of his chest and hop along the floor away from the door. Which is what David wanted to do as he heard the sounds of muffled feet coming back toward them. What was Uthamel thinking, anyway? was his horrified thought. There were at least fifteen of these men and only one of him. Then David did an incredible thing: he inexplicably stepped away from the wall and stood fully exposed in the doorway.

A sword point appeared in the open door followed immediately by its owner. As he raised his blade to strike David down, God’s avenging warrior, with a blood-curdling cry, lopped off the assailant’s sword hand, sending the weapon with a loud clank to the floor. The wounded man’s screams, now mingled with the others’ shouts, filled the boys’ ears, though Azmaveth, still staring at David, appeared not to hear. David wondered if his friend had gone insane, such was the unwavering, even mindless look he gave him.

Uthamel impaled the screaming man on his sword and drove him back away from David, through the door and toward his comrades, who were now shouting at him and at each other. Though David could not understand their words, he certainly recognized the tone of outraged anger in their voices.