3.4. Preparación y presentación de estados financieros bajo NIIF para PYMES o NIIF
3.4.2. Elaboración de políticas contables y estimaciones
I
t began as a halting vibration in Raphael’s hand, like the twitch of a heavy sleeper. I exhaled to relax my chest muscles, a technique Daniel had shown me the night before. I sucked my breath in quickly as Raphael’s back arched and his forehead extended upward, drawn by an invisible cord. Zim increased his pace, reaching for the power of our nighttime sessions. I pushed myself to keep up with the raw blasts of rhythm pouring off his drum.The invisible cord snapped, and Raphael slumped forward, motionless. A tremor crept up his arms, meeting at the base of his neck. His head snapped up, and convulsions overran his slack body like a powerful tide. This was more than I’d seen when Uriel received navua outside of Levonah.
Yonaton stopped playing and stood mouth agape. He caught my eye with an expression that said, “Now I see what you mean.” He quickly returned his halil to his lips, blushing at having stopped playing. But the music was hardly necessary; Raphael could no longer hear it. The other disciples broke out of their meditations, some as dumbstruck as the musicians, and watched the first storm of prophecy since the gathering began.
Raphael’s arms gave a final jolt. The tension slowly returned to his body, and he pushed himself into a sitting position, his eyes wide and unfocused. Only when his gaze fell on Uriel did he really seem to return to us. “I saw the King’s servant.”
“Ovadia?” Uriel asked, eyebrows raised.
“Yes.”
“What was he doing?”
Raphael’s forehead creased and his eyes narrowed. “He is coming.” Raphael closed his eyes and rocked gently. “And there was a voice.”
“A voice? What did it say?”
“Heed his request.”
Uriel’s forehead tightened. “Who should heed his request?”
“You should, Master.”
“Me?” Uriel pulled the collar of his tunic away from his throat. “Was there anything more?”
“That’s all I heard.”
In the heavy silence that followed Raphael’s announcement, hoofbeats thudded faintly in the distance. The tremor grew to a rumble, indicating steeds driven hard. Four chestnut horses, with one rider apiece, turned off the road at the head of the valley and descended toward the clearing. Yosef and Tzadok emerged from their caves to join Uriel, and they stood like a wall, awaiting the arrival of the riders.
Three soldiers reined in their horses at a distance, their flanks heaving from the sprint into the valley. The fourth rider approached the masters, his eyes scanning the area rapidly as he dismounted, pausing briefly when his gaze fell on the musicians. He had thick red hair, ruddy skin, and was dressed like no servant I’d ever seen. He wore an embroidered blue tunic adorned with silver, a leather belt studded with copper, and a short sword at his hip. A beam of sunlight glinted off a seal hanging from his neck. I knew from watching Yoel ben Beerah in Levonah that the King’s men wore seals around their necks—but I’d never seen one that reflected the sun.
He embraced each of the masters, holding Uriel longer than the other two.
“Is there a place we can speak?”
“Let us go to my cave,” Uriel said. “You are hungry after your journey, Ovadia?”
“I’ll eat when you eat; I never have much appetite after a hard ride.” There was a nasal tone to his speech—was the servant of the King not of Israel?
Uriel’s eyes fell on me, and I felt the same sense of foreboding as when we first met. “Lev, please bring us wine.”
I laid down my kinnor and ran to the cooking area where fires burned in three large, earthen hearths. I approached a harried servant sweating over the
midday meal. “I need a wine skin.”
The cook’s lip rose in a sneer. “If the musicians desire wine, they’ll just have to wait.” He turned back abruptly.
Observing his profile, I wondered what he had done to become an indentured servant. Normally, such men were debt slaves, thieves sold by the court into servitude for up to six years to pay back double what they’d stolen. Why would the prophets surround themselves with such people? “It’s not for us, it’s for the masters and an emissary from the King.”
“Ah, you should have said so.” The sneer disappeared, and the servant retrieved a skin and four clay cups.
I ran to Uriel’s cave and found the prophets and their guest seated around a low table. “So Ovadia,” Uriel said, “To what do we owe your visit?”
“Let us wait until we’re alone.” Yosef nodded in my direction.
“No, no, it is fine that he hears,” Ovadia said lightly. “It concerns him as well. You see, I’ve come for the musicians.” I was filling the cups and nearly splashed a stream of wine on the table.
“Why would you want the musicians?” Yosef asked.
“For the wedding, of course. The King heard that the prophets assemble excellent musicians for their gathering, and he wants the very best in the land for his wedding.”
“Interesting.” Uriel leaned forward to take one of the cups. “Thank you for the wine, Lev.” The wrinkled skin between his eyes creased in thought. “It’s a little dark in here, would you mind lighting the lamps as well?”
Sunlight shone into the mouth of the cave, making it quite easy to see. Yet, in my eagerness to hear more, I neither argued nor hesitated to fetch fire from the cooking area.
“I won’t consent to send them,” Yosef said as I reentered the cave. I stepped quietly toward a lamp in the back and took my time lighting it, extending my opportunity to overhear as long as possible.
Ovadia’s eyes widened as his hand clenched. “How can you refuse your king? He has the right to anything in the land that he desires.”
“He may be the King, but the full allegiance of the nevi’im is not to any king
of flesh and blood. I’ve heard about Ahav’s bride, and I can only imagine what this wedding will be like. Are we, the nevi’im, meant to contribute to such a travesty? And we also have a duty to the musicians in our service. They come here to play before disciples striving for holiness.” Yosef turned now to Uriel.
“How can we expose them to such practices?”
Uriel broke eye contact with Yosef and focused on Ovadia. “There are two things I don’t understand. I’m surprised to hear the King is even aware of our gathering, and all the more that we hire talented musicians to play for us. And even if he is aware and wants our musicians, why not send a simple messenger to retrieve them? Why send the steward of the palace on such a journey?”
“Two excellent questions.” Ovadia grinned as Eliav would when caught taking extra wine. “The King knows about the gathering and the caliber of your musicians because I told him. He sent me here because I advised him to handle the nevi’im tactfully before the wedding, something we could not depend on an ordinary messenger to do. I convinced him of this so that King Ahav would suggest that I go personally.”
“Why would you do such a thing?”
“Because there are serious matters that I need to discuss with you, and I needed a reason to come.”
The cave fell silent as the prophets pondered Ovadia’s words. Yosef cocked his head toward his guest. “Ovadia, you have come to us many times in the past.
Why should you suddenly need an excuse?”
The King’s steward raised his cup to his mouth but returned it to the table without tasting it. “Everything’s changed since the King’s engagement. He knows that many oppose the marriage and fears that his servants will turn against him as well.”
“And this is why the wedding has been so rushed…?” Yosef posed more of a statement than a question.
Ovadia nodded. “He wants it over before opposition can be raised. He is constantly on the watch now for who is loyal and who is not. For me to meet with you there needed to be a reason, otherwise, it would arouse the King’s suspicions. He assumes that you are opposed to the match.”
“That still doesn’t justify taking our musicians to play before such a ceremony,” Yosef responded. “Uriel, you must agree with me?”
Uriel held Yosef’s gaze for a long moment, then dropped his eyes to his cup.
“I’m inclined to let them go. Whether the request is fitting or not, King Ahav has the right to anything in the land. And now is not the time to make an enemy of him.”
Yosef scowled but didn’t respond. He turned to Tzadok. “We have given our opinions; it is up to you to decide.”
There was a pause as Tzadok shut his eyes to consider the issue. Opening them, he glanced at each of the masters, and then, without a word, nodded in Uriel’s direction.
“Very well,” Yosef said, “I won’t oppose both of you. The musicians may go.
Now tell us, Ovadia, what is so important that you had to invent such an excuse?”
Uriel cut across Ovadia before he could speak. “Thank you, Lev, that is enough light for now. Please make sure the soldiers are fed and their horses looked after.”
Yosef surveyed me with his dark, unblinking eyes. Had he forgotten my presence, or was he simply annoyed that Uriel had allowed me to stay and listen? I turned away but felt Yosef’s eyes following me. I kept my expression blank as I walked toward the mouth of the cave. Once outside, though, I broke into a run. I had to find Yonaton. There was much to tell him—and we had to pack.
“What do you think they’re talking about?” Yonaton asked me for the third time as we gathered our things.
“I wish I knew, but I don’t think that we’re going to find out. Master Uriel seemed to want me to hear the first part, but not the rest.”
“My father always said my time would be better spent working the land than playing my halil. I wonder if this will change his mind?”
“What are you packing for?” Zim asked as he and Daniel walked into the cave. “Does this have anything to do with the King’s servant and the mysterious request Raphael was talking about? Lev, did you overhear anything when you brought them their wine?”
“Yes.” Yonaton’s voice cracked with excitement. “Ovadia came to get us to play at the wedding.”
“We’re going to play for the King?” Zim snatched up his drum with one hand and pounded it with the other. “I knew it! I knew my moment would come!”
Daniel sat down, his forehead furrowed in thought. “If that’s all he came for, we should be leaving already.”
“Well—” Yonaton began, but I cut him off.
“Yosef didn’t want us to go. They were still discussing it when I left.”
Yonaton shot me a glance that the other two missed, but I’d overheard a private conversation; it wasn’t my place to tell Zim and Daniel everything that I’d heard.
Somehow telling Yonaton felt different.
Zim turned to Daniel. “You don’t sound so excited.”
“I’ve played for the King before. As soon as he came out of mourning for his father, he celebrated his coronation and gathered musicians from around the land. But don’t think we’re going to play before the King as we play before the prophets. There will be many musicians there. We may not even see the King.”
“I’ve never even been to Shomron.” Zim tapped the edge of his drum with his fingertips. “The King keeps a small group of musicians to play in the palace.” He winked in my direction. “You never know what could happen…”
Ovadia spoke with the masters until the sun burned a fiery gold in the western sky. When they emerged from the cave, Uriel sent word that we would leave in the morning.
“I’m going to tell my parents,” Yonaton told me. “Do you want to come?
They want to meet you anyway.”
I nodded and laid my kinnor on my sleeping mat, but when we stepped out, we saw one of the servants climbing the path toward us. “Master Uriel wishes to speak with you, Lev.” His tone was soft, with none of the brutishness of the cook I spoke to earlier in the day.
“Me?”
“Yes, he awaits you in his cave.”
I waved goodbye to Yonaton and followed the white-robed servant down the trail. As we turned on one of the switchbacks on the path, I noticed a puncture in his right ear; not a piercing of the lobe, but a hole in the ear itself large enough to see through. Only one thing could have mangled him in that way. I shuddered at the thought, a motion that was not lost upon the servant.
“You are staring at my ear?”
I turned red, but the man’s smile didn’t waver. “Does that mean—?”
“That when my first service was complete, I chose not to go free. Yes, I am a slave until the Yovel…if it ever comes. Forever, probably.”
“And your master…?”
“Master Yosef stood me up against a door and drove an awl through my ear, yes.”
I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the mark of bondage. “But you could have been free.”
“Free to do what? Go back to being a thief?” His smile grew broader, showing no signs of shame. “We all serve, Lev. Before I served my appetites.
Now I serve a worthy master.”
When we reached Uriel’s cave, the servant gestured to me to enter alone.
Uriel sat in the same spot I had seen him earlier that day. He waved me toward the stool opposite him. I sat, my chest suddenly tight. “You heard quite a bit today.”
I nodded, my eyes on the table. Was he upset that I lit the lamps so slowly?
“There is something on your mind, Lev. You may speak.”
“I was surprised you let me hear as much as I did,” I said quietly.
“As was I.”
So, Uriel had wanted me there. Then why did I still feel the pressure in my chest? “Why did you let me stay?”
“My heart told me I should.” I raised my eyes as far as Uriel’s beard. “I can see the question on your face; you want to know the real reason why.”
I nodded in response.
“It began with Raphael—such an unusual way to receive a prophecy.”
“It didn’t seem very different from when I saw you, just more intense.”
“True, it is not at all unusual for a navi to receive a message for others. But nevi’im are rarely given messages to deliver to other nevi’im. If the Holy One wished to send me a message, why not send it to me directly? This is the first time I’ve ever received a prophecy through another prophet.” Uriel bent his head forward, and his eyes met mine. “Questions are the gateway to wisdom. You may ask.”
What did he want from me? I dropped my eyes to the table again and asked the next logical question. “Why do you think you received the prophecy this way?”
“I wondered the same. It could be that the end of my life is drawing near.
Nevi’im often lose their navua near the end of their lives. Or it could be that the Holy One has decreed that I no longer deserve navua.” His right hand raked through his beard and held it. “But my heart tells me that neither was the cause of today’s events.”
“What then?”
“I believe that the prophecy was not directed to me alone.”
“Then why didn’t you tell Master Yosef about it? Wouldn’t that have been easier than arguing?”
“Yes, it would. And since Raphael spoke publicly, I could have shared his words if I desired. But the fact that the message was not addressed to Yosef gave me pause. I was told to heed Ovadia’s request, but he was not. He was right to rely on his own understanding.”
“But you said the message wasn’t intended only for you. If not for Master Yosef, then who else?”
Uriel paused until I glanced up. “I believe that it was for you.”
A shiver passed through my body. “Me?”
Uriel hesitated, as if weighing his words. “I noticed Ovadia looking intently at the musicians when he arrived. He clearly had an interest in the four of you.”
Even if that were the case, the prophecy could just as easily have been for one of the others. “There’s more, isn’t there?”
“Yes,” Uriel replied, but said no more.
I felt blood rising to my cheeks and reached under my tunic for my father’s knife, which I now kept with me at all times. The weapon hit the table with a dull thud. “It has something to do with this, doesn’t it?”
Uriel picked up the sheathed knife with a faraway look in his eye. At that moment, I was certain he’d seen the knife before. “Yes.” He gazed directly at me but offering no more information.
“What are you hiding from me?”
Uriel sighed. “I understand how difficult this must be, but it is not yet safe to tell you all that I know.”
“If it’s my safety, shouldn’t I be able to decide—”
“No!”
My head jerked back at his sharp word.
Uriel’s eyes glinted as he leaned across the table. “When I took you with me, I promised your uncle I would look after you. I question his judgment in giving you this knife. I can only conclude that he is unaware of its significance. You heard what Ovadia said—we are entering dangerous times!”
Uriel lowered his forehead into his hands, as though needing their help to carry its weight. When he lifted it, there was a softer expression in his eyes.
“Much as I would like to protect you, Raphael’s prophecy shows that there is a greater will than my own involved. I must…I will allow events to take their course.”
The prophet met my eyes again. “Do the others know your father’s name?”
I sat up at the question. “Only Yonaton and Shimon, the one with the scars.”
“Good. From now on, call yourself Lev ben Menachem. Tell Yonaton so he won’t be surprised, but instruct him not to tell the others. I’m not concerned about Shimon.”
Uriel rose. “Be careful in Shomron. Darkness is rising in the Kingdom—I have felt it building for some time. Trust your heart. If something feels wrong to
you, it probably is. And keep your eyes open. I won’t be in Shomron to see for myself, so I’m counting on you to be my eyes and tell me everything when you return.” Uriel walked me to the mouth of the cave, placing his hands on my shoulders. “Perhaps it is best if you leave the knife here with me?”
I shook my head—it was my only inheritance.
“Very well, take it with you, but show it to no one.”
“Put your gear on the donkeys,” Ovadia told the four of us the next morning.
“We’ll be riding the horses.”
The prophets lent us two donkeys for the journey, and I hitched my sleeping roll and kinnor to the smaller one. “You can ride with me,” Ovadia said. I stepped onto a large boulder and mounted behind him.
Uriel walked toward us from one of the caves, and Ovadia kicked his horse forward, out of earshot of the soldiers.
“I have given more thought to your question,” Uriel said.
“You haven’t changed your mind?”
“No, but there is something more I want to tell you.”
“Should we speak privately?”
“There is no need, it is just a story.”
This didn’t seem to me like the time for stories, but Ovadia didn’t appear surprised.
“A fox once walked along the banks of a river. Looking down, he saw fish swimming frantically back and forth. Why do you rush about from place to place? he asked them.
“We are fleeing the nets of the men, they replied.
“Come up onto the land with me, said the fox. Here you will be safe from the nets of the men, and we can live together as my ancestors lived with your ancestors.
“You are supposed to be the cleverest of animals, replied the fish, but you talk like a fool. If we are afraid in the water where we know how to live, how