“You one of them prophets visiting our town?” a fruit merchant asked.
“Yes,” Amias answered. “Jericho is a beautiful place.” The fruit merchant nodded and made an odd sound of agreement. Amias looked over his dull grey and brown robes, which had the tinge of anointing oil in the threads. He touched his greying beard, which needed to be cleaned after a journey from Hazor, a city several days to the north near the Sea of Galilee. Amias had his travel bag with him but didn’t think that would have signaled him as a traveling prophet.
Amias spent most of his time in Hazor, a bustling city with various farms, merchants, and metal workers. He was from a smaller city on the sea called Rakkath. He spent his younger years there but felt the call from God to visit and spread His love to as many as possible. Israel, his homeland, was a tapestry of various beliefs, with followers of Baal, Chemosh, Molech, and multiple deities from Egypt. Amias knew that as the country was influenced by the leaders of the land, the prosperity and peace would sway with them. He knew that prophets such as himself and many others throughout the land had to be the lamp bearer for the one true God and the anointed people dedicated to Him.
Although he lived in Hazor, Amias would travel to Dan, one of the northern cities in Israel, and Kedesh. However, He visited the coastal towns and cities near Philistia and even went to the towns in Judah, their brethren who had their own kings and queens after the split following King Solomon’s reign. Jericho was no mystery to him as one of his best friends, Afra, lived in the bustling town and was a prophet himself. He didn’t think his friend would have made the announcement of his coming, so he wasn’t sure what the merchant was referring to.
“You don't fit the usual prophet mold,” the merchant observed. “A lot of prophets have been passing through these past few days. I took a guess.” He wrapped Amias' order of three apples, two peaches, and a kiwi in a silk cloth, a departure from his usual routine. Amias, who was getting the fruit for his friend who lived in town, was intrigued by the sudden surge of prophets in Jericho.
“Is there any particular reason why?” Amias asked.
“Huh,” the merchant replied. “Reason for what?”
Amias sighed and glanced around the central area of Jericho. It was full of various stands selling fruits, jewelry, weapons, animals, clothes, oils, and possible little items that he hoped were art pieces but most likely were mini-gods. Each stand had colorful banners with bold lettering to lure people into buying their goods. Of course, everyone said they had the best items, tastiest food, or shiniest adornments.
Getting into the city was not a problem for him. He knew there would be guards posted at both sets of gates. Two walls surrounded the city. The outer wall was older but still useful for defense against attacks. It was near the Jordan River, which provided fresh water, food, and a modicum of protection. The inner walls were perfect for those with more money. They had homes with courtyards for cooking to alleviate smoke in the house, and a few even had two levels to their dwelling to show off wealth and keep their homes cool when it got hot. More importantly, it kept many of the poor and unwanted away from their large domiciles.
Both gates had guards to ensure no one would cause rioting or problems. A few years ago, some people from Moab tried to kidnap an official’s daughter for money while she was preparing for her wedding. The guards quickly got the men, and to Amias' knowledge, they were never heard from again. He wasn’t sure if they were sent back to their homeland or dealt with according to what the official believed was right. Regardless, more guards were placed around the large gates to protect troublemakers from the city.
“You said a plethora of prophets is visiting Jericho,” Amias started. “Is there a new festival or celebration that will take place?”
“Don’t think so,” the merchant replied. “At least not involving you or people like you.”
The comment took aback Amias. Jericho was in Israel. This was his homeland. Every Israelite could trace their lineage to a specific tribe or son of Israel. They were all united as one people, but there was pride amongst each group, where they were from, and what that meant to their family. Amias was from the Naphtali tribe in Rakkath, but even the cities of Hazor and Kedesh were in this group’s domain. Jericho sat near the middle of the tribe of Benjamin’s territory. He might not be from Jericho or the tribe of Benjamin, but he was most certainly an Israelite man.
“People like me?” Amias asked.
“Yeah,” the merchant responded. He looked over Amias’ shoulder to another customer inspecting the kiwi. His eyes squinted and opened once the new customer nodded that they were interested. “One of them Yahweh believers instead of Baal or Chemosh or whatever.”
“Oh,” Amias replied with understanding. He tugged on his robes, thought about his greying beard, and nodded. His robes and clothes were made for comfort and reflected his relationship with God. However, the Baal priests had more flash in their outfits, adorned with various gold and jewels on their bodies and tattoos covering their skin to honor their god. Amias showing up in his toned-down outfit meant he immediately revealed to whom he worshiped without opening his mouth.
“If you need more of that sweet fruit, come to me, Cowdiy,” the merchant said.
“Thank you, and I will,” Amias responded while raising the bag.
Amias made his way through the exceptionally large city of Jericho. Many towns throughout Israel and Judah had hundreds of people living there, many only numbering a thousand. However, there were more than four to five times that number of residents. With guests, travelers, and families from other cities coming, the population expanded to almost twice the average. Jericho was one of the first settlements for the Israelites and became an essential place for trade and commerce. The rebuilt walls were spectacular, and people from all over the nation and surrounding areas called the city their home. Amias was thrilled that he didn’t have to enter the second set of gates on this trip, but Afra had taken him into that area years ago to visit a wealthy friend whose brother, Upaz, lived in Rakkath. Both were quite wealthy, and Amias remembered how Upaz did his best to become one of the region's premier merchants and trading partners. When Amias entered the city, he had to walk to the opposite side of town to get to Afra’s dwelling.
Amias could smell a large lamb being roasted over an open flame near a seller providing cooked meats to travelers, visitors, and citizens. It looked fresh as many hunters lived in Jericho to offer wild animals to the city's merchants, eateries, and inns. The cooked lamb was near one of the largest inns in the town, and guards were stationed in front of the building. Carved images lined the pathway while flowing drapes colored in reds, blues, and greens hung on the outside. It was very appealing, and Amias desired to try their food. But he was running late and wanted to get to his friend’s home before it got too late.
After traversing through the city, Amias got to his friend’s home near a group of five houses, all close with minimal land around them. Afra explained that the homes were built by a family who lived close to one another, but eventually, various merchant families bought the buildings for themselves. They didn’t need the land for growing fruits or livestock to graze. Except for Afra, all of them were into trading goods between cities, tribes, or nations. Only Amias’ friend was unique with his job compared to their neighbors.
Amias saw Afra in the front of the home, removing random pieces of what he assumed were trash. They met by chance decades ago when both worshipped in Jerusalem for the Day of Atonement. Jerusalem was in Judah, God's ordained place of worship, which King Solomon built. After the tribes of Judah split with the remaining Israelites, the new king of the northern group, Jeroboam, created two new centers for worship in Bethel and Dan. He was nervous about people traveling from the newly created nation to Jerusalem and overthrowing his power. The latest places of worship were dedicated to false gods, so prophets such as Amias and Afra, along with thousands of others, still made their way to Jerusalem. They talked and bonded over their love of God and the Kiwi fruit. Afra looked up and stopped what he was doing to greet Amias. This made him smile, as he hadn’t seen his friend in years.
“It’s good to see you Afra,” Amias said. The two men greeted each other and began to walk into the home.
“Is this for us?” Afra asked with a pleasant tone.
Amias smiled and handed the man the silk bag of fruit. “Of course, I wouldn’t imagine coming empty-handed.”
“You’re too kind,” Afra responded, leading the way inside his house. It was small, with enough room for Afra and his wife Bara. They had no children, so they never needed a reason to add to the home as was customary. Amias was in the same situation as his friend. Although both were in their fifties, they did not have children or heirs. It was not due to them choosing to go without children it was more like the situation never happened.
Afra was at least married while Amias was still the traveling bachelor, spreading the love of God to all he met. In his twenties, he was betrothed to a woman from Kedesh. Before they were married, a terrible accident happened on her family’s farm, and she died from the incident. Amias was encouraged by his family and friends to find another, but he dedicated his mission to God and knew that when it was time, the Lord would provide. It was soon after that he did have to move. His life in Rakkath was great, but her memories were there for some reason, even though she had never lived in the home. He didn’t want to go to Kedesh, even though her family was willing to take him in. So, he decided on Hazor, which is close enough to both cities but still far enough away to have a clear mind and peace.
“Bara, you remember Amias,” Afra said. Bara was a few years younger than Afra, but they both had the same gleam in their eyes and grey hair. Her hair was longer, and her clothes were the color of dew-covered fields, but the texture was thick and partially rough. Afra handed Bara the silk package, and she took it with the same smile and pleasant expression as her husband.
“It’s been some years,” Bara said and greeted Amias. Her youthful appearance was revealed as she warmly showed kindness. “Please sit, and I’ll bring over some refreshments,” Bara said.
“Thank you,” Amias said.
“Kiwi.” Bara held the fruit in the air for Afra to see.
“My favorite,” Afra said. “You’re the best, thank you.”
Amias nodded at the compliment and relaxed in the chair. As Amias remembered the last time, the place was mildly decorated, with various family heirlooms and gifts from people in Jericho. The central room had a table, chairs, and a relaxing couch where guests could rest. To the back were rooms for Afra and Bara to sleep, while the other was where he conducted business, or family could stay there for an extended period. There was a place to cook food and boil tea for refreshment. The courtyard in the back could also be used for more elaborate meals, such as the lamb he saw entering the city.
Like Amias, Afra was a prophet. However, he hadn’t traveled as much since being married to Bara. He preferred attending to the people in Jericho and the people in Judah and Israel who lived on the border of both regions.
Bara served Amias a refreshing water with freshly squeezed lemon and lime. It had been a while since he had the lime and enjoyed the delicious drink. He had been actively traveling with people in caravans, on carts, donkeys, and by foot, so sitting and resting felt amazing to his legs and lower back. The refreshing water Bara served helped settle his insides and made him think of what Cowdiy said.
“Is there a celebration or reason for a large gathering of prophets coming to Jericho?” Amias asked. Afra quickly sucked in air and quickly looked at his wife, and returned his gaze to Amias.
“I almost forgot,” Afra said.
“There is?”
“No,” Afra responded. “But there are a lot of prophets.”
Amias scratched his head, puzzled by the response. There seems to be a reason, Amias thought, for a group of prophets in the region to all converge into one city. If it were Jerusalem, it would have made sense to worship or celebrate a particular Sabbath. At least if they were in Bethel or Dan, there would have been some for doing the same with a different set of beliefs. Amias racked his mind and couldn’t figure out what would have drawn enough people that a fruit vendor would have noticed. “Am I missing something?” Amias asked.
Afra drank from his citrus-infused water and sighed. “There’s a council we’re meeting at the White Owl Inn.”
Amias tapped his head and then scratched his beard. He didn’t remember the White Owl Inn the last time he visited the city. There were at least three, if not four, spread throughout Jericho. Many large settlements had inns for guests and visitors. Often, people would travel to a city and stay with family, but there might be places where a person, merchant, or traveler doesn’t know anybody. The smaller cities and villages might have one inn or none at all. Having such an expense didn’t make sense if no one was regularly coming.
“The White Owl Inn?” Amias asked. “Is it new?”
“Yes, maybe a year old,” Afra responded. “A consortium of merchants from Manasseh, Gad, Reuben, and possibly people from Ammon all came together to buy the old inn and make it more pleasing.”
The first three groups were all tribes within Israel. Everyone was in the northern kingdom of Israel, but their territory rested on the East side of the Jordan River. Most of Israel and Judah were on the west side of Jordan. Ammon was another country whose ties to Israel were complicated due to the various issues, wars, and problems between the two nations.
“What was it before,” Amias asked.
Afra paused for a moment, sipped on his water, and said, “It was an inn. But there was a lot of carousing and partying.” Afra drank the rest of his water and let out a huge sigh. “It’s not far from here. I remember when some of the worst offenders would cause problems in the street.” Bara made a noise, signifying that she had agreed. Amias took a sip and nodded.
“So, it’s better now?”
“Much better. They cleaned it up, removed the former staff, changed the look, and now made the place more inviting to guests and residents.”
“That’s good,” Amias said.
“Yes, and we have a council to meet. One of the owners gave us a large meeting room,” Afra said.
“Me as well?” Amias asked.
“Yes,” Afra started, “you’re a prophet." Amias drank the rest of his water and sighed. The drink was genuinely refreshing, and he enjoyed every single drop.
Amias was shocked. “What’s the meeting about?”
“Many believe Elijah will be taken away tomorrow.”
*******
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