Fifth Mountain

"Tomorrow I shall go to the Fifth Mountain to offer sacrifices," he told the frightened people. "And the gods will

once again remember us."

Before leaving, he turned to Elijah.

"You see it with your own eyes. The heavens are still helping."

"One question, nothing more," said Elijah. "Why do you wish to see your people sacrificed?"

"Because it is what must be done to kill an idea."

After seeing him talk with the woman that morning, Elijah had understood what that idea was: the alphabet.

"It is too late. Already it spreads throughout the world, and the Assyrians cannot conquer the whole of the earth."

"And who says they cannot? After all, the gods of the Fifth Mountain are on the side of their armies."

FOR HOURS HE WALKED the valley, as he had done the afternoon before. He knew there would be at least one more afternoon and night of peace: no war was fought in darkness, because the soldiers could not distinguish the enemy. That night, he knew, the Lord was giving him the chance to change the destiny of the city that had taken him into its bosom.

"Solomon would know what to do," he told his angel. "And David, and Moses, and Isaac. They were men the Lord trusted, but I am merely an indecisive servant. The Lord has given me a choice that should be His."

"The history of our ancestors seemeth to be full of the right men in the right places," answered the angel. "Do not believe it: the Lord demandeth of people only that which is within the possibilities of each of them."

"Then He has made a mistake with me."

"Whatever affliction that cometh, finally goeth away. Such are the glories and tragedies of the world."

"I shall not forget that," Elijah said. "But when they go away, the tragedies leave behind eternal marks, while the glories leave useless memories."

The angel made no reply.

"Why, during all this time I have been in Akbar, could I not find allies to work toward peace? What importance has a solitary prophet?"

"What importance hath the sun, in its solitary travel through the heavens? What importance hath a mountain rising in the middle of a valley? What importance hath an isolated well? Yet it is they that indicate the road the caravan is to follow."

"My heart drowns in sorrow," said Elijah, kneeling and extending his arms to heaven. "Would that I could die here and now, and never have my hands stained with the blood of my people, or a foreign people. Look behind you. What do you see?"

"Thou knowest that I am blind," said the angel. "Because mine eyes still retain the light of the Lord's glory, I can perceive nothing else. I can see only what thy heart telleth me. I can see only the vibrations of the dangers that threaten thee. I cannot know what lieth behind thee..."

"Then I'll tell you: there lies Akbar. Seen at this time of day, with the afternoon sun lighting its profile, it's lovely. I have grown accustomed to its streets and walls, to its generous and hospitable folk. Though the city's inhabitants are still prisoners of commerce and superstition, their hearts are as pure as any nation on earth. With them I have learned much that I did not know; in return, I have listened to their laments and--inspired by God--have been able to resolve their internal conflicts. Many times have I been at risk, and someone has always come to my aid. Why must I choose between saving this city and redeeming my people?"

"Because a man must choose," answered the angel. "Therein lieth his strength: the power of his decisions."

"It is a difficult choice; it demands that I accept the death of one people to save another."

"Even more difficult is defining a path for oneself. He who maketh no choice is dead in the eyes of the Lord, though he go on breathing and walking in the streets.

"Moreover," the angel continued, "no one dieth. The arms of eternity open for every soul, and each one will carry on his task. There is a reason for everything under the sun."

Elijah again raised his arms to the heavens.

"My people fell away from the Lord because of a woman's beauty. Phoenicia may be destroyed because a priest thinks that writing is a threat to the gods. Why does He who made the world prefer to use tragedy to write the book of fate?"

Elijah's cries echoed through the valley to return to his ears.

"Thou knowest not whereof thou speakest," the angel replied. "There is no tragedy, only the unavoidable. Everything hath its reason for being: thou needest only distinguish what is temporary from what is lasting."

"What is temporary?" asked Elijah.