Forgotten Embers

75. The Fires and the Candlesticks

Benjamin stood at the height of the hill above Elkshire giving to the men who came pure white garments of sparkling pyrite which he and Eliezer had made from the materials which the men from Laoce offered. They had received a steady stream of travelers there throughout the days of their renewed presence in Elkshire, and the later they came, the more ragged they appeared.

Then came some men from Asrymn on the second day, they having decided to tarry three in accordance with Representative McFarland's original timeline, and approached their prince with a humble weariness. These men were among the last of the riders who had ridden with McFarland to deliver the message of his coming to the people. Their bodies were beaten and bruised, their countenance weary for the distance they had traveled and the constancy of their labor, and they fell down on their knees before him, dressed in their tattered, dust covered clothes.

"My lord," said the man who spoke for them, lifting his wounded eyes to the beautiful face of his glorious prince, "how long? How long must we wait for the ending of trials and the coming of your justice for us? For our enemies are great and they have by every means reviled us."

Benjamin looked on him, his eyes filled with the fires of compassion, and he looked on his brothers, also. "Peace now, my friends," he answered with a smile, "and rest a little longer until the number is fulfilled of your brethren here who have borne the message as you have to the regions, but be assured, soon... soon is the day of our triumph, and the blood of the righteous I shall avenge."

And he gave them clean garments of pure fabric like white snow-covered lilies.

"Your servants, my lord," they said as they put on the illustrious garments, "and thank you. May our King restore that which was stolen and reward gladness for the days of our lord's affliction."

Benjamin smiled, his breast filled with love for his people and a great gratitude for their steadfast loyalty to him.

'These men have come so far to fight. Please, do not allow their sacrifice to go in vain again, and help us in the strife, O Lord; for, who am I to bow before?'

He offered them a slight bow of humble reception. "And may our Lord avenge the blood of his martyrs on the necks of his enemies," he replied with sincerity and politeness.

***

It was on that evening that he found Eliezer standing in the scorched room of the Council Building wherein they had presented their case and appealed to the ambassadors of the regions to hear them. The room was dark but for the seven candles which the people had lit on golden stands of pyrite as a memorial, and Benjamin paused as he entered. Both men were wearing their ceremonial tunics, the golden crest and accents of which caught the movement of the flames and became alive, glowing with the light from the candles.

Eliezer stood staring into the fire and did not turn to greet him.

"The lamp for Euphess keeps going out," he said and sniggered, his voice tearful and mourning. "I can't seem to keep it lit, which is... appropriate, I suppose."

Eliezer closed his eyes, and Benjamin caught a glimpse of the tears as they fell from his face and captured the light from the flickering flames on their way to splatter against the ground.

"Ivan never came to see me," his friend went on, continuing his tragic tale, "the whole of the time we were in Elkshire, he never spared the time for so much as a conversation."

"Eliezer, I'm sorry," Ben told him, offering his sympathies as a form of comfort. "I know that Mr. Falls was a friend of yours."

"Once," Eliezer corrected, "but no longer. He proved that, I suppose... regrettably."

"And what of the others?" Benjamin queried, probing his mind.

Eliezer let out a gracious sigh. "I never knew them, but they didn't give me much of a chance to, either, Ben. You know that. Of course, it's no less tragic." He turned to Benjamin, his eyes leaving the mesmerizing warmth of the fire as it burned. "I was supposed to be the Council's advocate in Pyre when I hadn't even met half of them, and when we did meet, we butted heads."

"They made their own decisions, Eliezer," the young prince reminded him. "You couldn't have forced them."

Eliezer nodded, putting his hand over his mouth and pulling thoughtfully at his beard. "Perhaps," he muttered. "Yes, of course, you're right," he said, shaking his head to focus his scattered mind. "But still, I couldn't do a blessed thing to help them."

Benjamin blinked, amazed by his faithful friend's despondence. "Maybe, but there is still someone you can help."

"And who would that be?" Eliezer's voice caught as he asked him.

"Timothy."

Eliezer closed his eyes and cried, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"That's why I came," Benjamin went on, "to make a request of you."

"Ben, you know that I would..."

Benjamin stopped him.

'He is always so willing to hear my requests and so anxious to lend to me his service, but this time... I want him to be sure of it. More than he ever has. He has given me so much, but I come asking ever more.'

"I know you aren't a man of war, but ride with me to battle," he asked him, making known his desires to his friend. "I understand you're very gifted with a sword."

Eliezer snickered, shaking his head at him, "Metaphorically, maybe, but I never had much mettle for the blade."

Benjamin smiled, thankfully amused. 'If I could hold a conversation without a joke from him, I would be sorely disappointed.'

"You won't need one," Benjamin assured him. "I have a different task in mind."

Eliezer's eyes shifted, glancing over him with careful interest.

"I want you to come with me to High Palace. I need a man to find the lost representatives. Ramus's men may seek to slay them if they see the battle is turning."

"Ben, I don't know..." Eliezer said, shaking his head at the thought.

"Who better than you?" Ben asked him.

"Ben..." Eliezer began to softly protest.

"Please," Benjamin adjured him, "all I'm asking is that you save them, if at all able."

"There is no guarantee that they are even still alive," Eliezer reminded him, warning of what possible tragedy they may find.

"But supposing they are," Benjamin steadfastly responded, "would you leave them there to die without trying?"

Eliezer smiled, letting out a breath of laughter as he shook his head again. "Of course not, Ben," he said. "I will go, but only because you are asking."

Benjamin grinned, triumphant, and bowed himself in humble courtesy. "Thank you, Ambassador."

"Ben," Eliezer chuckled, looking on him with fondness. "I am so very proud of the man you are and of the king you will become."

Benjamin lifted his eyes to meet the orange sparks of his friend's, and his face became entirely determined. "I promise, Eliezer, I will not fail you," he said, the words sworn from the depths of himself.

"I never thought you might," Eliezer assured him, wrapping the young prince in his arms as a father would his child. "I have always believed, and now I know, that in all things you will live well, Benjamin. For, as our hearts are dedicated, so are our lives, also, dedicated."