CHAPTER 3 

Ammiel looked back at his son.  He had opted to lag behind the others as soon as they had resumed their journey. 

Ammiel could no longer keep the grin off his face as he watched Rondi, hands clenched by his side, walking with head down.  The father could see the lad’s anger from where he was tied to the stretcher behind his stallion.  The temptation had been too much for him, he must admit.  Looking into the cocky face of his son as he waited for a new name; a name that he had made clear that he expected his father to provide, there had been no way that Ammiel could possibly give up this chance to teach his son who had the greatest wit of the two.

Now though, seeing the anger that he had caused his son, there was a small nagging at the back of Ammiel’s conscience.  He had been a bit mean in his choice, though by the smile on Obadiah’s face, even he got the joke.  Of course he had no intention of using the name that he chose.  It was only a bit of fun, though as he watched his son, he could just hear his beloved Deborah’s voice.  “Ammiel, what have you done to Rondi this time?  How can you expect him to grow up to take anything you say seriously when you tease him so?” 

Aaaaaah, Debbi.  It seemed like months since he had last held her. Surely even she would enjoy this little joke.  After all, Mizell wasn’t that bad a name!

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“Mizell!  How could he!?!”  Rondi was so angry.  From the moment that he had heard the name come from his father’s lips, he had been disgusted with the choice.  “Out of all my names, he has to go and call me by the name that my older cousins use to tease me with.  He knows I hate it.  How will I be able to look these people in the eye?”

Rondi silently tromped on.  “What is wrong with the name Gideon (mighty warrior)?  Or Ari (lion)?  Even Aaron (shining light, high mountain, messenger) is a better name for a man.  Why did he choose to name me Tiny Gnat? Well, I suppose at least we won’t have to worry about our safety, as Obadiah’s family will be rent helpless from laughing at me!”

Rondi knew better than anyone how much his father loved a joke, but his face had been so serious when he had called him over after his time of deliberation with the news.  Sure, it was true that the further from any of his actual names, the less likely for his identity to be revealed; but - MIZELL!!!

Rondi was so engrossed in his thoughts, that he noticed neither time nor the countryside pass.  So full of emotion was he that he spared no thought for the danger that they may find themselves in.  He only felt the discomfort of being slighted by his father.  The same man, he reminded himself, who he loved and respected deeply. 

There was a slight wisdom to his father’s words.  Anyhow, why should he be so upset at the name?  It was only a name after all.

Just as the last thought took root in Rondi’s heart, he began to feel ashamed of his behavior.  The boy’s shoulders slumped under the weight of knowledge; knowledge of the folly of pride that he had partaken in.  His anger slowly turned to shame as he fell a little further behind the others.  “Forgive me, Adonai.  I have no excuse, but I know that one word from you and I am forgiven.  Please, my God.  I promise, with your help not to walk in pride any more.  Always remind me who I am without you, and I shall forever be grateful for who I am in you.”  Rondi could feel the guilt lift from his shoulders.  He could walk tall once more.

He looked up just in time to see that Obadiah had stopped the horse at the edge of a clearing.  There was a lazy stream that meandered along not far from where they stood, and bending over the stream, was the most beautiful woman that Rondi had ever seen.  She was humming as she bent to do her washing.  Her dark hair spilled over her right shoulder, her skin tanned, no doubt from similar work to that which she was so engrossed in.

Just then, the horse stamped his foot and snorted with impatience, bringing the company of three to the attention of the woman.  She looked up with a start, and raised herself to her feet as quickly as she could.  It was only then that Rondi noticed the round belly that had been hiding beneath the folds of her dress as she leaned over her work. 

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Obadiah saw that the young woman was about to flee.  He saw the fright in her eyes and knew that they had startled her.

“Please,” he said, holding out his hands to show that he held no weapon.  “We mean you no harm.  My master is wounded and we need help.  We have traveled far.”

The young woman’s eyes darted to and fro, looking for something that she might use as a weapon. 

Obadiah tried again, “I was wondering; is my Uncle Elias still alive?”

With this new information, the woman’s eyes flew to Obadiah.

“Elias is your uncle?” She stood, eyes narrowing as she looking him over.  “What is your name?”

Obadiah felt the heat rise in his face.  This was the moment that he had dreaded; the revealing of himself, the one who had caused such pain to his family.

“I am Obadiah, son of Amos.”

The young woman gasped as she dropped the clothes that she still had held, the shock registering on her face.  “Wait here,” she mumbled, barely loud enough to be heard, as she turned and made her way in what Obadiah remembered was the direction of the camp.

Minutes passed as the three waited silently.

It seemed like an eternity to Obadiah as he sat, waiting for someone to come.  In actual fact, it couldn’t have been more that fifteen minutes before many people, all speaking excitedly came into view.  They stopped before the stream, each one peering at the strangers on the other side. 

Four men stepped silently forward, one much older than the others.  Obadiah felt the tears prick in the back of his eyes as he recognized his beloved uncle standing before him.  He could not move as a deafening quiet fell over the crowd.

“Obadiah is dead.”  The old man’s voice was low and steady, his eyes searching the face of the man who claimed to be his nephew.  “We were told that he had tried to escape, so the soldiers killed him.”

“No Uncle, I live.  It is I, Obadiah, the son of your older brother Amos, come to beg your forgiveness for the pain that I have caused you.”  Obadiah lowered his eyes.  Shame filled him to the core of his being. 

It took much concentration to keep his emotions in check.  So much so that he did not hear his uncle approaching, until he spoke just a small distance from him.  “Obadiah, my son,” wavered the voice beside him.  Obadiah’s eyes shot to his uncles face, seeing the look of love in his eyes, the warmth of his hand on his arm.

“No Uncle, I am unclean.  Do not touch me!” sobbed Obadiah.  “I have wronged you and my family.   Please.”  He sank to the ground, his legs unable to hold him any longer.  “I do not deserve your forgiveness……”  Elias sank to his knees beside him, taking the large frame of his nephew in his arms as they both wept.

It wasn’t long before they were joined by the other men who had stood beside Elias.  They too knelt to wrap their arms around their cousin and wept.

He was home.  He was forgiven………at last he could find peace.