Chapter 26

All gazes immediately rushed to Sapphira. She felt the weight of their stares but had grown used to being the center of such attention over the past months.

“What is it, Lady Sapphira?” Sir Giles eyed her skeptically.

“I have had the name of Gideon on my heart these past days. Sir Randel and I looked up his story in the chapel this morning. Are you familiar with it?”

“Only vaguely,” Sir Giles admitted.

Others shrugged, so she continued. “Gideon was a judge in Israel. He had the option of using a huge army, but God led him to use only three hundred men against ten thousand. Far worse odds than we face now. And He gave them a creative plan to confuse and rout the enemy.”

“The enemy fled in terror before anyone ever lifted a sword.” Randel put a hand on her shoulder in support.

The older fellow inclined his head. “I recall that story. But it was not just the plan that succeeded. God sent a dream to the enemy that added to their fear.”

“That is true.” Sapphira said, but did not waver.

“What are you not telling us?” asked the fellow in the back. “You see visions, do you not? Your fame has spread throughout Tripoli.”

“I believe I receive messages from God, though not often in the form of visions.” She forced herself to remain relaxed and imperious, though her heart beat fast in her chest. “But Sir Giles gives my ability to hear from God no credit, so I do not wish to argue that here.”

The man pushed to the front of the room, and Sapphira took note of his sincere blue eyes. “Well, I do. Please, tell me more.”

“I have heard the name Gideon whispered to my heart for several days now during my prayer times.”

Sapphira pressed her hands together in a maidenly fashion to keep them from trembling. “However I did not remember his story well, having only read it once before. Then early this morning it came to me so clearly. The strategy of Gideon’s battle. The lamps, the trumpets, the enemy army fleeing in terror, and I pictured us in the role of the Israelites.”

“It is the best plan we have heard so far,” said the Templar with the blue eyes.

“Humph,” Sir Giles said. “I do not like the source of this idea.”

“It is not for you to decide alone,” the older fellow said.

“I recall the story now too,” the predatory man spoke up. “It could have merit. But if it doesn’t work, we would have to face the enemy without the support of the English prisoners.”

“I agree,” said Sebastien, who never had seemed to like her or any of the children. “It could turn disastrous. I do not like it one bit.”

“But,” the blue-eyed man said, “you are not taking into account the guidance of the Divine.”

“I agree,” said the older fellow. “I stand with Lady Sapphira.”

The men about Sapphira bickered amongst themselves. Many for her, but many against. Sapphira steeled her heart and began to pray silently.

Finally, Sir Giles clapped his hands to gather their attention. “Enough. It is clear that there is no obvious path to victory. Every plan holds merits and dangers.”

“What is the merit of this Gideon nonsense?” shouted Sebastien.

“You know I am quicker than anyone to dismiss supposed messages from the Divine,” Sir Giles said. “But I have witnessed the Lady Sapphira in prayer, and I cannot completely discount the possibility that it might be true. Especially when so many of my esteemed colleagues are inclined to believe her.”

“Surely you jest. I will not stand here and listen to this any longer.” Sebastien stormed from the building.

But the others remained and waited for Sir Giles to continue.

“I realize this is an odd thing to say.” Sir Giles stroked his black beard streaked with silver once again. “But I think the children should decide. It is their people, their families who need rescuing. And they know the Lady Sapphira better than any of us. Sir Randel, will you gather them outside?”

“Of course,” Randel said. With one last squeeze of Sapphira’s shoulder, he ducked out the door.

“And have your men join us in the courtyard,” Sir Giles said to the leaders. “If we take Lady Sapphira’s unusual route, we must all be in agreement.”

The men began to file out. The predatory one frowned at her, but the older fellow and several others smiled warmly her way. Only the blue-eyed man stopped to speak with her. He had soft blond hair and a smooth, tan face with a crooked nose, which added character rather than detracting from his pleasant appearance.

“Lady Sapphira, I am honored to meet you. My name is Sir Etienne. I would like to kiss your hand, but . . .”

“I understand.” She smiled back to him. “It is not allowed.”

“A lifetime of manners is hard to break.” He grinned sheepishly. “I have heard that you are from North Britannia. Am I correct in assuming you are the cousin of Richard DeMontfort and the niece of Bernard Saint-Germain?”

“You have heard of them?” Her previous act left her entirely. Suddenly she was a wide-eyed little girl again, and there was nothing she could do to hide it.

“They are fine crusaders, the both of them. And their forces were some of the most honorable men I have had the pleasure of meeting in the Holy Land.”

She pressed her hands to her lips. “Oh, Sir Etienne! Might you have any idea where they are now?”

He frowned at that. “Not for certain, although I heard tell they were captured by Druze forces.”

“We have heard the same.”

“I take it they were not at Jezeer.”

She shook her head.

“Likely they are at the prison near Beirut, for that is where the higher-ranking nobles are held. All the more reason that we must set your people free to search for them.”

“Precisely.” Her heart soared at this unexpected support. “And Richard DeMontfort is the rightful heir to the recently deceased duke. His sister, Adela, now rules in his stead, but the entire region prays for his return.”

“Then I thank the good Lord that He has spoken through you, and that you have listened.”

Though he could not reach out and touch her, she felt his gaze as a comforting embrace. “And I thank you for your kind words.”

“I will fight for your plan.”

“May God bless you,” she said, and together they headed outside to face the gathering crowd.

Rosalind whispered up silent prayers as Sapphira shared her plan with those gathered. Sadie clung tightly to Rosalind’s hand for the first time ever. The girl must be more nervous for her friend than she had ever been for herself. Even Abu-Wassim’s family had been allowed back in the gates for the event.

Glancing about at the children, she suspected that many of them were sending up petitions on Sapphira’s behalf. Over these last days, they had spent much time in prayer and were developing into that army of spiritual warriors just as Sapphira had envisioned from the start.

Of the other plans mentioned, the only one that held any possible merit in Rosalind’s mind was calling for the Knights Hospitaller, and mostly because she wished for Randel to meet them. From the moment they set foot here, she had not liked these Templars, although some of the newer additions seemed less jaded. Perhaps the Hospitallers, with their focus on providing care to the sick and injured, would be different.

But of course Sapphira’s plan was the best one, and the only one with any divine inspiration. They had worked hard at perfecting it this morning, with Randel asking the tough questions and she and Sapphira reasoning out their arguments.

“They have to listen,” she whispered to Randel, who stood only inches to her left.

He twisted his neck and covered his mouth before whispering back. “She has many supporters.”

Rosalind continued to pray as the Templars argued amongst themselves. Many of them seemed leery of Sapphira’s suggestion.

“As we already concluded in our planning session,” Sir Giles bellowed above the other voices, “each plan has merits and disadvantages. But I would like to hear what the English youngsters have to say. It is their families we seek to save.”

“We have followed Lady Sapphira thus far. She has never let us down. And we would follow her in this as well!” Jervais called with confidence.

“Agreed!” shouted Garrett with a surprising amount of fervor.

“I will follow Sapphira!” said Lillian.

“Me too!” her brothers called as one voice.

All of the children nodded and cheered their support.

“But why are we putting this decision in their hands?” A younger Templar with sharp, wolfish eyes spoke up. “They are all in a fragile emotional state. A decision like this calls for wisdom, experience, and logic.”

“If I may speak.” Randel pushed through the crowd and stepped onto the raised platform next to Sir Giles. “The Lady Sapphira is quite unique. I have observed her this entire trip, long after the initial excitement wore off. And I would follow her anywhere.”

To Rosalind’s surprise, Sadie climbed up onto the platform as well. “I have no family in Jezeer. I have no real family at all. But my troop has become my family. I believe the Lady Sapphira hears from God, and I would trust her with my life. With all of our lives.”

“If you will forgive me.” Abu-Wassim now stood in front of the platform and bowed to them all. “As-salamu alaykum. I come in peace. As you can see, I do not share your religion. Yet even I will attest that there is something very special about the young lady, both in character and in vision. I trust her plan.”

“But do the Moslems not know the story of Gideon?” asked the troublesome young dissenter. “They share many of our biblical accounts.”

“I am not familiar with the tale which Sapphira just told, and I know the Quran well. The part at the beginning about testing the army is similar to our account of Talut, but not this name Gideon nor the battle plan.”

The Templars began bickering amongst themselves once again.

Sir Giles held up a hand to quiet them. “I think we have heard enough. Perhaps we should take this to a vote.”

Rosalind saw Sapphira approach him and speak, but she could not hear the words. She redoubled her prayer efforts on behalf of the young girl.

“Lady Sapphira has one more thing she would like to say.”

Sapphira closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them and gazed over the crowd. “If we can learn one thing from the story of Gideon to guide us in this decision, it is that God wants men committed to His plan. And just like Gideon sent home the soldiers whose hearts were not in the battle, I do not wish to drag any man along against his will.”

Rosalind felt a shift in the atmosphere around her. Demeanors softened. Men stared at Sapphira with respect. Some even with awe. As she focused on the girl, she could almost spy a halo of light surrounding her, not with her physical eyes, yet she sensed more than saw a glow about her.

“I charge each of you to search your own hearts,” Sapphira said. “What does the Spirit whisper to you there? Quiet your minds and your emotions and all the distractions about you. God is always speaking, if only we are still enough to listen for His soft voice deep inside.”

Now Sapphira radiated. The peace and joy upon her young angelic face were palpable. Only the hardest of hearts could ever deny it.

The place was quiet for several moments. Yet the silence was not uncomfortable. It was contemplative. It was powerful.

“I believe in Sapphira’s plan!” said the kindly blue-eyed Templar who had spoken on the girl’s behalf earlier.

“I believe!” came the call, once, twice, then three times from random places throughout the crowd.

Then the Templars took it up as a chant, all together. Only a few bitter-looking men yet protested, including that Sir Sebastien who had been so rude to them from the start.

“Then I believe we have a decision,” Sir Giles said. “We will need to gather a large supply of lamps and horns before we can leave. And of course we will send scouts ahead and revise our plan as needed. I confess that I too sensed the presence of the Lord today, but we shall be wise as serpents and innocent as doves, as Scripture mentions.”

Rosalind let out a breath she had not known she’d been holding.

Sapphira had succeeded. Rosalind could hardly believe it was true. But she should not be so surprised. She too was learning to sense God’s presence. To war in prayer and to rest in His almighty strength.

Two hundred men against a thousand. The odds were not good, and her stomach plummeted as she thought of the situation in that light.

The success of this plan depended on God stirring up fear in the hearts of the enemy. Could anyone be certain that He would carry out that part? Sapphira never mentioned hearing anything specifically on that count. They could hardly dictate their plan to the creator of the universe.

But they must trust that if He was in this plan, somehow He would see it through to completion.