“THE BURNING COALS OF THE BROOM TREE” (Part 1)
Psalm 120:4b
The night air was chilly and damp. Saduk wished for a warm campfire and a bit of tea with a biscuit. But there’s a saying for that … and he didn’t have a horse either.
What he had were a few coins and a ratty blanket across his back. It was full of holes. And he had sandals on his feet to protect against the thorns, nettles and sharp stones. They were not much good for anything else.
Saduk had traveled far over the day and for what? Hope. He hoped he could stay ahead of the raiders and warn his father’s caravan. If he failed, or was discovered, there would be no hope at all for him and small hope for his mother, sister, and father. Not that he would know, since he would be already dead. Hope is for the living. It is about the future. Thinking more clearly now he realized his trail was like an arrow pointing directly to where he did not want those raiders to go. It was time to change direction. He veered toward where the large village sat along the wide river. He could not see it, it was a long way off. They had walls and sentries. Just the kind of place raiders would not venture. When he came to rocky ground again he would turn back toward his family.
He had been seeking another caravan that was traveling ahead of his own. He was hoping to buy a few items his family needed. Not much of anything really, but things in short supply. Namely, buttons and a bolt of cloth so his mother could make a new dress for his sister. She was outgrowing that which she had. He had not packed much food either for he had expected to buy a meal and supplies for his return.

Climbing a small bushy ridge he first caught the scent of a fire which was not fed by wood or dung. In the distance he saw flames rise from a wagon, its tarp already consumed. Even the wheels were burning. His father had instructed him from his youth never to run into trouble, so he knelt and observed. Soon enough he saw the raiders with spears and slashing swords and the few remaining protectors fell prostrate, lifeless. Because of the distance he heard nothing. There had been a young lady there he had hoped to renew acquaintance with. He knew she was no more or worse. Raiders treated young women roughly. All others died quickly.
If he could warn his own caravan they could join with another. Raiders didn’t like strength and would avoid them. Raiders were “brave” only when they outnumbered their victims. There was no profit for a dead raider.
Saduk was also exhausted. He had run for a few miles. Then he stopped briefly and walked beyond the ending of the day and well into the night. He would continue to walk until the sun had reached a point where shadows had ceased to be long. Then he would find a shady hiding place, rest, and wait until sundown to begin again. Raiders did not need to travel by night, they had no one to fear.
He rested fitfully expecting raiders upon him at any moment. What he did not know was that raiders had no reason to follow the trail of a lone walker. The prints in his case would show he carried no weight on his back. Whether they ever saw his trail he would never know.
Nevertheless, he was more cautious thereafter, traveling toward one star, then another. He planned to meet his caravan by morning light. He arrived just as folk were arising and preparing to light fires for breakfast. He quickly spoke to his father, who gathered a small group of men. Word went out to not light the fires and to hitch the animals. The group decided to send a rider to a caravan traveling an hour or so behind theirs. “Come quickly, raiders in area. Strength in numbers.”
Meanwhile, preparations were made to travel back to meet the coming caravan. All fighting men would be in the two wagons at the back of the caravan, and 3 men were sent on horseback to shadow the caravan and either warn them or attack the raiders from behind.
Saduk had been practicing with bow and arrow for about 4 months. He had no strength in his arms for any distance, nor great accuracy. That took adult muscles. Still he was chosen to be among those lesser fighters in the second wagon. If one was to die it was better to die fighting as a man. Maybe he could scratch his enemy and make him bleed first. He had his skinning knife and 8 arrows. The knife was useless against a spear or sword, but it could be thrown. He had some small skill there. He had killed a rabbit that way…
(NOTE: Part 2 will be posted on Thursday April 17.)
Copyright 2025 Donald Whelpley
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