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The Fifth Mountain Part 12

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A FEW MINUTES LATER he recovered consciousness. The a.s.syrians had dragged him into the street.

Still dizzy, he raised his head; every house in the neighborhood was in flames.

"An innocent, helpless woman is caught in there! Save her!"

Cries, people running in every direction, confusion everywhere. He tried to rise but was struck down again.

"Lord, Thou canst do with me as Thou wilt, for I have dedicated my life and my death to Thy cause," Elijah prayed. "But save the woman who took me in!"

Someone raised him by his arms.

"Come and see," said the a.s.syrian officer who knew his language. "You deserve it."

Two guards seized him and pushed him toward the door. The house was rapidly being devoured by flames, and the light from the fire illuminated everything around it. He heard cries coming from all sides: children sobbing, old men begging for forgiveness, desperate women searching for their children. But he had ears only for the pleas for help of the woman who had afforded him shelter.

"What is happening? A woman and child are inside! Why have you done this to them?"

"Because she tried to hide the governor of Akbar."

"I'm not the governor! You're making a terrible mistake!"

The a.s.syrian officer pushed him toward the door. The ceiling had collapsed in the fire, and the woman was half-buried in the debris. Elijah could see only her arm, moving desperately from side to side. She was asking for help, begging them not to let her be burned alive.

"Why spare me," he implored, "and do this to her?"

"We're not going to spare you, but we want you to suffer as much as possible. Our general died without honor, stoned to death, in front of the city walls. He came in search of life and was condemned to death. Now you will have the same fate."

Elijah struggled desperately to free himself, but the guards carried him away. They pa.s.sed through the streets of Akbar, in infernal heat; the soldiers were sweating heavily, and some of them appeared shocked at the scene they had just witnessed. Elijah thrashed about, clamoring against the heavens, but the a.s.syrians were as silent as the Lord Himself.

They arrived at the square. Most of the buildings in the city were ablaze, and the sound of flames mingled with the cries of Akbar's inhabitants.

"How good that death still exists."

Since that day in the stable, how often Elijah had thought this!

The corpses of Akbar's warriors, most of them without uniforms, were spread out on the ground. He saw people running in every direction, not knowing where they were going, not knowing what they sought, guided by nothing more than the necessity of pretending they were doing something, fighting against death and destruction.

"Why do they do that?" he thought. "Don't they see the city is in the hands of the enemy and there is nowhere to flee?" Everything had happened very quickly. The a.s.syrians had taken advantage of their large superiority in numbers and had been able to spare their warriors from combat. Akbar's soldiers had been exterminated almost without a struggle.

They stopped in the middle of the square. Elijah was made to kneel on the ground and his hands were tied. He no longer heard the woman's screams; perhaps she had died quickly, without going through the slow torture of being burned alive. The Lord had her in His hands. And she was carrying her son at her bosom.

Another group of a.s.syrian soldiers brought a prisoner whose face was disfigured by numerous blows. Even so, Elijah recognized the commander.

"Long live Akbar!" he shouted. "Long life to Phoenicia and its warriors, who engage the enemy by day! Death to the cowards who attack in darkness!"

He barely had time to finish the phrase. An a.s.syrian general's sword descended, and the commander's head rolled along the ground.

"Now it is my turn," Elijah told himself. "I'll meet her again in paradise, where we shall stroll hand in hand."

At that moment, a man approached and began to argue with the officers.

He was an inhabitant of Akbar who was wont to attend the meetings in the square. Elijah recalled having helped him resolve a serious dispute with a neighbor.

The a.s.syrians were arguing among themselves, their words growing louder and louder, and pointing at him. The man kneeled, kissed the feet of one of them, extended his hand toward the Fifth Mountain, and wept like a child. The invaders' fury appeared to subside.

The discussion seemed to go on endlessly. The man implored and wept the entire time, pointing to Elijah and to the house where the governor lived. The soldiers appeared dissatisfied with the conversation.

Finally, the officer who spoke his language approached.

"Our spy," he said, indicating the man, "says that we are mistaken. It was he who gave us the plans to the city, and we have confidence in what he says. It's not you we wish to kill."

He pushed him with his foot. Elijah fell to the ground.

"He says you would go to Israel and remove the princess who usurped the throne. Is that true?"

Elijah did not answer."Tell me if it's true," the officer insisted. "And you can leave here and return to your dwelling in time to save that woman and her son."

"Yes, it's true," he said. Perhaps the Lord had listened to him and would help him to save them.

"We could take you captive to Sidon and Tyre," the officer continued.

"But we still have many battles before us, and you'd be a weight on our backs. We could demand a ransom for you, but from whom? You're a foreigner even in your own country."

The officer put his foot on Elijah's face.

"You're useless. You're no good to the enemy and no good to friends.

Just like your city; it's not worth leaving part of our army here, to keep it under our rule. After we conquer the coastal cities Akbar will be ours in any case."

"I have one question," Elijah said. "Just one question."

The officer looked at him warily.

"Why did you attack at night? Don't you know that wars are fought by day?"

"We did not break the law; there is no custom that forbids it," answered the officer. "And we had a long time to become familiar with the terrain.

All of you were so preoccupied with custom that you forgot that times change."

Without a further word, the group left him. The spy approached and untied his hands.

"I promised myself that I would one day repay your generosity; I have kept my word. When the a.s.syrians entered the palace, one of the servants told them that the man they were looking for had taken refuge in the widow's house. While they went there, the real governor was able to flee."

Elijah was not listening. Fire crackled everywhere, and the screams continued.

In the midst of the confusion, it was evident that one group still maintained discipline; obeying an invisible order, the a.s.syrians were silently withdrawing.

The battle of Akbar was over.

"SHE'S DEAD," he told himself. "I don't want to go there, for she is dead.

Or she was saved by a miracle and will come looking for me."

His heart nevertheless bade him rise to his feet and go to the house where they lived. Elijah struggled with himself; at that moment, more than a woman's love was at stakehis entire life, his faith in the Lord's designs, the departure from the city of his birth, the idea that he had a mission and was capable of completing it.

He looked about him, searching for a sword with which to take his own life, but with the a.s.syrians had gone every weapon in Akbar. He thought of throwing himself onto the flames of the burning houses, but he feared the pain.

For some moments he stood paralyzed. Little by little, he began recovering his awareness of the situation in which he found himself. The woman and her child must have already left this world, but he must bury them in accord with custom. At that moment the Lord's workwhether or not He existedwas his only succor. After finis.h.i.+ng his religious duty, he would yield to pain and doubt.

Moreover, there was a possibility that they still lived. He could not remain there, doing nothing.

"I don't want to see their burned faces, the skin falling from their flesh.

Their souls are already running free in heaven."

NEVERTHELESS, HE BEGAN walking toward the house, choking and blinded by the smoke that prevented his finding his way. He gradually began to comprehend the situation in the city. Although the enemy had withdrawn, panic was mounting in an alarming manner. People continued to wander aimlessly, weeping, pet.i.tioning the G.o.ds on behalf of their dead.

He looked for someone to help him. A lone man was in sight, in a total state of shock; his mind seemed distant.

"It's best to go straightway and not ask for help." He knew Akbar as if it were his native city and was able to orient himself, even without recognizing many of the places that he was accustomed to pa.s.sing. In the street the cries he heard were now more coherent. The people were beginning to understand that a tragedy had taken place and that it was necessary to react."There's a wounded man here!" said one.

"We need more water! We're not going to be able to control the fire!"

said another.

"Help me! My husband is trapped!"

He came to the place where, many months before, he had been received and given lodging as a friend. An old woman was sitting in the middle of the street, almost in front of the house, completely naked. Elijah tried to help her but was pushed away.

"She's dying!" the old woman cried. "Do something! Take that wall off her!"

And she began screaming hysterically. Elijah took her by the arms and shoved her aside, for the noise she was making prevented his hearing the widow's moans. Everything around him was total destructionthe roof and walls had collapsed, and it was difficult to recognize where he had last seen her. The flames had died down but the heat was still unbearable; he stepped over the rubble covering the floor and went toward the place where the woman's bedroom had been.

Despite the confusion outside, he was able to make out a moan. It was her voice.

He instinctively shook the dust from his garments, as if trying to improve his appearance. He remained silent, trying to concentrate. He heard the crackling of the fire, the cries for help from people buried in the neighboring houses, and felt the urge to tell them to be silent because he must discover where the woman and her son were. After a long time, he heard the sound again; someone was scratching on the wood beneath his feet.

He fell to his knees and began digging like one possessed. He removed the dirt, stones, and wood. Finally, his hand touched something warm: it was blood.

"Please, don't die," he said.

"Leave the rubble over me," he heard her voice say. "I don't want you to see my face. Go and help my son."

He continued to dig, and she repeated, "Go and find the body of my son.

Please, do as I ask."

Elijah's head fell against his chest, and he began weeping softly."I don't know where he's buried," he said. "Please, don't go; how I long to have you remain with me. I need you to teach me how to love; my heart is ready now."

"Before you arrived, for so many years I called out to death. It must have heard and come looking for me."

She moaned. Elijah bit his lips but said nothing. Someone touched his shoulder.

Startled, he turned and saw the boy. He was covered with dust and soot but appeared unhurt.

"Where is my mother?" he asked.

"I'm here, my son," answered the voice from beneath the ruins. "Are you injured?"

The boy began to cry. Elijah took him in his arms.

"You're crying, my son," said the voice, ever weaker. "Don't do that. Your mother took a long time to learn that life has meaning; I hope I have been able to teach it to you. In what condition is the city where you were born?"

Elijah and the boy remained silent, each clinging to the other.

"It's fine," Elijah lied. "A few warriors died, but the a.s.syrians have withdrawn. They were after the governor, to avenge the death of one of their generals."

Again, silence. And again her voice, still weaker than before.

"Tell me that my city is safe."

He knew that she would be gone at any moment.

"The city is whole. And your son is well."

"What about you?"

"I have survived."

He knew that with these words he was liberating her soul and allowing her to die in peace.

"Ask my son to kneel," the woman said after a time. "And I want you to swear to me, in the name of the Lord thy G.o.d.""Whatever you want. Anything that you want."

"You once told me that the Lord is everywhere, and I believed you. You said that souls don't go to the top of the Fifth Mountain, and I also believed what you said. But you didn't explain where they go.

"This is the oath: you two will not weep for me, and each will take care of the other until the Lord allows each of you to follow his path. From this moment on, my soul will become one with all I have known on this earth: I am the valley, the mountains that surround it, the city, the people walking in its streets. I am its wounded and its beggars, its soldiers, its priests, its merchants, its n.o.bles. I am the ground that they tread, and the well that slakes each one's thirst.

"Don't weep for me, for there is no reason to be sad. From this moment on, I am Akbar, and the city is beautiful."

The silence of death descended, and the wind ceased to blow. Elijah no longer heard the cries outside or the flames crackling in neighboring houses; he heard only the silence and could almost touch it in its intensity.

Then Elijah led the boy away, rent his own garments, turned to the heavens, and bellowed with all the strength of his lungs, "O Lord my G.o.d! For Thy cause have I felt Israel and cannot offer Thee my blood as did the prophets who remained there. I have been called a coward by my friends and a traitor by my enemies.

"For Thy cause have I eaten only what crows brought me and have crossed the desert to Zarephath, which its inhabitants call Akbar. Guided by Thy hand, I met a woman; guided by Thee, my heart learned to love her. But at no time did I forget my true mission; during all the days I spent here I was always ready to depart.

"Beautiful Akbar is in ruins, and the woman who trusted me lies beneath them. Where have I sinned, O Lord? At what moment have I strayed from what Thou desirest of me? If Thou art discontent with me, why hast Thou not taken me from this world? Instead, Thou hast afflicted yet again those who succored me and loved me.

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The Fifth Mountain Part 12 summary

You're reading The Fifth Mountain. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Paulo Coelho. Already has 473 views.

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