Ezzret could hear the scream in his head and tried so hard not to let it escape from his throat.
The scene transpiring before him was incredible, so incredible that he could barely hold back his rage. As he began to push forward to protest, he could feel Sammael’s hand grab his arm and hold him back.
Glancing sideways he could see his brother Sammael’s face was already bright red in shock and embarrassment. Their cousin Tuval stood next to them, stunned and just staring straight ahead, fighting back tears that had welled up his eyes.
Ezzret turned towards the dry cracked soil of the desert floor, knowing that the anger burning in his heart could be as easily seen on his face as the others. He knew they had to be careful about how they would explain their impulsive endeavor now.
Realizing that this situation wasn’t anything like he had imagined it was going to be, he was taken aback at what now appeared to be plain foolishness.
As they stood there in silence, looking back, the whole thing seemed so heroic when it had started their day out full of excitement, all of them so eager to carry out their plan, a plan that would prove to everyone that they were truly men of action, men of glory.
At that moment in time, Ezzret had been sure that everyone would stand in awe of what they had done, and that the story of their quest would be spread far and wide. He was convinced that very soon songs of their bravery would fill the air, while word of their fame would quickly spread throughout the land.
Even at the beginning of the plan’s journey, he had jokingly teased the others about how they would be hailed as royalty upon their return home. Ezzret had been sure there would be rewards of gold and silver, and maybe even a grand party for this great thing they had done.
He had imagined people standing around open mouthed, struck with wonder as some would whisper to others about the great tribute they would be offering in surprise. He had thought of the wide smiles they would all wear when seeing the pleasure they would bring to that time and place. He knew this deed would ensure their names would be spoken of for ever and ever.
But the present had brought a different ending to this story. Ezzret could only shake his head and wait. He was afraid to speak. He couldn’t believe how badly this was turning out to be. The somber mood surrounding them forced him to keep his face down and his mouth shut, while his thoughts raced with anger and confusion.
The silence of the moment was broken only by the sound of water trickling onto the ground. David, their beloved leader, stood before them stern faced and unblinking. As the last few drops of the precious pure water from the well of the gates at Bethlehem emptied from the goat water skin in his hands, it was if he was staring completely through the trio of men before him.
Their minds raced, questioning what was happening, what to do. They stood in hushed reverence, awkwardly waiting for his words.
A sliver of grave silence hung over the people gathered among them as David quietly gazed into the eyes of each of the three men before him. He cleared his throat and began to speak.
“How foolish I have been, to speak of my desire for water from the well near the gates,” his voice broke from the emotion in his heart, “That you would put your lives on the line to bring me a small comfort such as this…” He glanced to the wet ground below his feet, “To think that your lives were put in such peril, that your lives could have been lost solely to my whimsy…” he turned his head and choked back a sob.
“I am not worthy to touch such a sacred thing, brought back to me by you, such mighty men, willing to have given your life’s blood for such as this. I have poured it out before you, a drink-offering to my Lord, praising His mercy in returning you all into my presence!”
Ezzret looked down at the small puddle of water drying up quickly before him.
And fame was the last thing on his mind.
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