At least that’s what his head said.
What his heart felt was altogether different.
Twenty-three
ZADOK VISITED HIS SHEEP ONE last time. Would he ever see them again?
Reuben touched his shoulder. “I’d really like to go with you, but I’m assuming you want me to stay here.” His eyes spoke the disappointment he couldn’t express.
Zadok glanced over the growing flock. “I need you here, Reuben. No one else knows them like you do. If I don’t come back …”
“Don’t say that.”
“You’re the only one left. They took everyone else.” His gaze was drawn uncontrollably north.
“I know.” His voice was soft.
“You know them, you know how to protect them, know what they need. Not as well as I do, of course.” He attempted a smile. “Take care of them for me?”
“Of course.”
Zadok blinked back the moisture gathering in his eyes and turned to go. Hopefully he could get a little sleep before dawn. They faced a two long days of hard marching before they attacked Arad. Thank Yahweh Banno had told Joshua of the trade route so they didn’t have to climb the cliffs the spies climbed when they entered Canaan. The way was longer, but they could move faster, and far more easily. Still, it would take two full days without stopping.
“Zadok!”
Eliel and Tobiah strode toward them, with a handful of cousins trailing them.
“Eliel. Tobiah. What are you doing?”
“We’ve come to help. We’ll watch the sheep for you until you return. We’re Ephraimites, and only Judah is fighting.” He glanced at his cousins. “I know they are very young and inexperienced, but I’ve helped the last several days, and with Reuben’s help, we can do it. Besides, you won’t be gone that long.” He flashed a wide grin.
Zadok couldn’t decide whether his confidence was encouraging or unnerving.
“Reuben can’t stay here every day and every night, like you do.”
Zadok swallowed hard, his throat burning. “I-I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”
Tobiah squeezed his shoulder. “Just bring her back. Bring them all back.”
Arisha awoke in the guest room, the darkness like a weight on her chest. She sat up, let her eyes adjust to the meager light shining in the windows above their beds. Micah snored on her left; Jonah slept soundlessly on her right.
How much longer would they be in this room? What would happen once they left? The king had promised they would be treated well, but Danel had expressed doubt. Without a doubt she would be killed if the king learned she had returned to Arad.
She lay back, draped an arm over her eyes. Aqhat and Danel had not shared the specifics of their plans, simply saying they had everything under control. That word had been sent to their camp, to Zadok, and a rescue would be soon underway.
Zadok. Her heart ached for his strength, his peace. His comfort.
She had never told him she loved him, though he told her every morning. Her thoughts returned to their last morning together, the way she’d tried to convince him to stay with her… thank Yahweh she’d gone to him, even if it led to her capture. If her last act meant he could believe she loved him.
If only she’d said the words.
Maybe she should have stayed home. But then maybe they would have taken him. Maybe …
Enough maybes. What happened, happened, and she was here in a “guest room” in Arad, waiting. Waiting for Danel, waiting for the king, waiting for Yahweh.
Waiting was not easy.
9th day of Elul
Danel descended the stairs, the light growing dimmer with each step. At the bottom of the staircase was a hallway. To the right lay the room where Kamose had been held, where Keret threatened to, and probably would throw not only the Israelites, but him as well if their plan went awry. To the left, his destination.
He turned left, took eleven steps. He’d made this trip many times, never thinking much about it. Then again, he’d never thought much about living out his days at the other end of the hall. He turned the key in the lock, pushed open the door, and entered. The sweet scent swirled in the air. He inhaled deeply, letting the fragrance calm him. He walked along the wall, looking down row after row of shelves running the length of the throne room, floor to ceiling on both sides, each shelf lined with huge pottery jugs of spiced wine.
He inspected the jugs, checking the tags tied to the necks with linen cord. Honey and cinnamon. Honey and mint. Juniper and mint. He chose twenty-four jugs for the festival, carrying them one by one to a table in the hallway, then closed and locked the door behind him.
Danel chuckled. These should be very helpful tonight.
Zadok, Jacob, Caleb, Joshua and the other Judahites waited on a hill outside Arad as the waxing moon rose. There was just enough light for them to see the walls of the city. A full moon would have been better, but that’s when they would have been expected.
“Wait,” said Banno. “I’ll bring back our contact.” He slipped silently down the hill.
Zadok’s breath caught. What if this was all a setup? What if Banno brought back an entire city full of soldiers? Had they made a fatal error trusting him?
But there was the dagger. Ahmose believed it was Kamose’s. But it could truly be Kamose’s, and they could still be in danger.
Zadok breathed deeply, closed his eyes. He needed to calm down. Getting himself worked up so he couldn’t think straight would only put him in more peril once the fighting started.
If it started.
Banno appeared with an old woman and a huge smile. A woman? What kind of contact was that?
“I am Yasha.” Her calm face put Zadok at ease. “Yahweh has sent you to us.” She clasped Joshua’s hand with both of hers, then Caleb’s.
“And you to us,” responded Caleb. “Now, what are we to do?”
She gestured toward the gate. “The commander, Aqhat, will be guarding the gate alone some time later tonight. He has made sure there are no guards on the walls or towers or anywhere in the city.”
Zadok gasped. “How did he manage that?”
“He is the commander of all Arad. He told every unit another unit was on duty. This is the first night of the Festival of the Harvest, and the men have been celebrating most of the day, so they were quite willing to believe that. He will light a small fire at the right side when the revelers have returned to their homes and the streets are empty. That is your signal to enter." She spoke with amazing clarity, almost authority.
“He will take you to your men. Once you reach your men, there is no guarantee what will happen. Even after his preparations, you may still encounter serious resistance.”
Caleb nodded. “We are prepared.”
“There is one more thing.”
“Anything. After what you have done for us. Anything.”
“My family and Aqhat’s family left the city earlier today. We want you to take us with you.” Her voice softened and her eyes pleaded with Caleb.
“Of course, if you wish.”
Yasha swallowed, looked at the ground.
Caleb touched her shoulder. “Is there something else? What is it?”
“My husband would never ask you, but will you do your best to bring him out? Keret has already punished him for worshipping Yahweh. He doesn’t know about any of the rest of us. But someone betrayed Danel, and Keret locked him up for over a month.” A tear made its way down her wrinkled face.
“Of course, we will do whatever we can do.”
“Thank you.” She grasped his hands again and turned to go, but Zadok touched her shoulder.
“Kamose was my uncle. He taught my wife about Yahweh. I especially owe Danel. I will protect him with my life.”
“Thank you, my dear.” Yasha grabbed him and embraced him. Then she pulled away and pointed a bony finger at him. “But I must tell you, if you give your life for his, he will never forgive me.” She spoke sternly.
“What if I do my best to return us both
to our loved ones?”
She smiled. “I think he would like that. We’re waiting on a hill over there. We will be out here praying for all of you, all night, until you make it back here.” She gestured toward a group of about twenty people, seated on the ground some ways away. “Those are my two youngest grandchildren, and Aqhat’s wife, daughter, her husband, and three children. All of us trust in Yahweh.”
For the first time all night, Zadok relaxed. “I feel safer already.”
It was closer to dawn than the middle of the night when a light finally blazed at the right side of the gate. Zadok inhaled deeply. Yahweh, go with us.
“Let’s go.” Caleb whispered loudly from the front. The men crept down the hill toward the walls of Arad. Caleb raised his fist and they stopped a stone’s throw away. At the entrance, they made their way to the center of the double gate. Banno called out in a low voice.
Another voice answered, then one of the doors swung outward. The Canaanite officer stood waiting, hurrying them inside the city’s massive walls. Once inside, the officer shut the enormous door and turned. “I’m Aqhat, commander of Arad’s army. I’ll take you to your men. After that …” He raised a hand, palm up, let it drop against his leg, then moved forward again.
The waxing moon shed only enough light for Zadok and the others to follow without stumbling over each other.
At the palace walls inside Arad, Aqhat turned. “I need only two of you inside.”
Caleb pointed to Zadok. “You and I. Yes?”
Zadok was thrilled and terrified at the same time. After all the years of waiting, wanting to prove to everyone that he was indeed a warrior, now he wondered.
“And Banno and I. The rest of you, find a place to hide and wait. If we can, this will be a rescue mission. If not, be prepared—for war.” Aqhat unlocked one of the two cedar doors and slipped inside, the others behind him.
Danel jumped at the sound of heavy footfalls in the hall. Please be Aqhat. He pressed against the wall, making himself as small as possible, knowing it would not help at all if they were Keret’s soldiers coming to arrest him, and not Aqhat. Even though at this time of night—more accurately, morning—that was highly unlikely.
“Danel?”
The loud whisper eased Danel’s fears, and he exhaled the breath he had been holding. “Aqhat?”
“Yes.” Rounding a corner, his friend came into view, along with Banno and two lightly armed Israelites. “This is Caleb and Jacob."
“I’m Danel, keeper of all keys.” He grinned weakly as he jangled a large ring of keys, then turned back to the commander. “And your soldiers?”
“I checked as inconspicuously as I could. They should be quite drunk by now.”
“Twenty-four jugs of wine will do that.” He grinned.
“Very well. Let’s go rescue them.” Aqhat pointed down the hall.
The group of five turned left and stole down the hall, to the section of the palace reserved for entertaining guests. One more turn, a key in the lock, a door pushed open.
The sound of sandals slapping against tile in the hallway woke Arisha from a light sleep. She jumped out of bed and raced to the door, the shepherds on her heels. Placing her ear against the wood, she strained to hear voices, footfalls, anything.
The footsteps drew nearer, stopped. A key was placed in the lock. Arisha’s breathing sped up, her hands shook. Who would be entering their room this early in the morning?
The door pressed inward.
She stepped back.
Danel peeked in, and Zadok slipped in behind him, a huge grin dominating his face.
Arisha gasped, her body rigid for a moment. Then she threw her arms around his neck. “Zadok! You came for me."
He returned the embrace, nuzzling her neck. “Always. I will always come for you.”
Jonah headed for the other room. "I’ll wake the others."
Micah was already up, shaking the younger men. “Natan, Rafael, let's go. Asher, Seth.”
The group followed Aqhat, his sword now in hand, and the others back down the hall. At every corner, he stopped and glanced each way before continuing, but they soon reached the palace doors. The commander pulled the doors open and the group filed outside.
Straight into a company of Arad's finest warriors.
Danel's heart stopped. For a moment.
Until Mika pushed to the front.
Then it sped up and beat much too fast.
"I told you I was the best in my class." He glared at Danel, arms crossed. "I knew you would do something like this."
"But … how did you even know there were captives in the palace?"
"I have a lot of friends. Everywhere."
Danel’s gaze darted from side to side, looking for an escape. The soldiers flanking Mika were young and inexperienced, but well-muscled and grim-faced. They were spoiling for a fight. “Mika, please don't do this. These young men have done nothing wrong. Let them go, then you can do what you want with me."
Mika reared back, laughing. "Are you joking? This is my best chance for a fast promotion straight to the top. I've got you and Aqhat."
Aqhat scoffed. "You think they'll make you commander over this?"
"Probably not. Even I admit I'm too young. But I'll skip a lot of steps.” Mika drew his sword. "Now, you can surrender, or we can fight it out."
Danel’s stomach soured as one of the other Israelites stepped out of the shadows. ”We fight it out."
Mika turned, momentarily surprised. Then he grinned. “Have it your way.” He lunged at the man, and within moments every soldier was locked in combat with an Israelite, clashing in a sea of skin and swords. Footsteps pounded, blades clanged, orders were shouted.
Danel unsheathed his sword, tried to remember the training all palace officials had to undergo when hired, and again each year during the rainy season. Aim for the heart, defend yourself. Sounded simple enough, but he was an old man with bad knees who couldn’t move nearly as quickly as these boys.
Maybe the best thing for him was to get Arisha to safety. He spun around. Where was she? There. Behind Zadok. Danel tried to make his way to her, but a burly warrior blocked his way. The youngster swung his sword. Danel blocked the blow with the flat of his blade. The soldier swung again, and Danel jumped back to avoid the strike, raising his weapon. When the blow fell to the ground, Danel brought his sword hard down on the young man’s arm, exposing muscle and bone. Blood gushed and the enemy sword clattered to the ground.
Danel grabbed it and bolted for Arisha. Grasping her arm, he tugged her back toward the palace. “Come with me.” He shouted over the noise of the clanging iron and grunting men. “I’ll get you some place safer until this is over.”
She looked at Zadok, fending off blows. He cast a glance over his shoulder and nodded. “I’ll find you.”
Breathing fast, heart pounding, Danel hurried for the door, pulling perhaps a little too hard on Arisha’s arm. But better a sore limb than … almost anything else that could happen. He dropped her arm long enough to open the door, then placing his hand on the small of her back, almost pushed her inside. He yanked the door shut behind them.
The hallway led to the kitchen, which at this hour should be deserted. “Follow me.” He whispered, not daring to take any chances.
They crept down the hall. If they could make it past the kitchen, there were a number of rooms he could lock her in that no one would be able to enter until he came back for her, rooms no one would suspect anyone would be in, let alone a girl. Ten more steps. Six, five …
“Stop. Not one more step. Mika told me you would try something like this.”
One of the soldiers from Mika’s group stepped into the hall from the darkness of the kitchen, a smirk on his face and a sneer in his voice. He stood in their path and leered at Arisha, eyeing her from sandals to head. “So the rumor was true. You were hiding a girl in there.”
Danel’s blood ran cold. Arisha’s face lost its color.
“What’s your name?”
“That’s not what I heard.” The soldier glared at Arisha.
Danel pulled her closer.
“I heard … she is the runway consort of last year’s Ra’shu Yeni.”
Arisha’s body leaned heavily against him.
Danel gripped her tighter. How could he possibly know that? Mika said he had spies everywhere but … could one of the servants bringing food have overheard something? Surely they wouldn’t have discussed it … but maybe someone recognized her.
“In fact, I think we’ll just take her to the king right now.”
Zadok found himself quickly outnumbered. The techniques he had learned in the drills returned to his memory easily, though it had been years since he actively participated. Keep moving. Protect your chest.
A Canaanite came at him. He lifted his sword with both hands, brought it down straight toward Zadok’s head. Zadok held his sword parallel to the ground, handle in his right hand, blade in his left, careful to avoid the polished edge. He blocked the blow, then pulled his sword back. The enemy’s blade fell. Zadok swung his weapon to the left then toward the soldier, slamming the end of the handle into his face. He could hear the bones crush as the man shrieked in pain.
The Canaanite dropped, but another took his place. Taller and stronger, this one swung his sword over his left shoulder and brought it down hard—slicing into Zadok’s right side under his leather chest plate. A gash—shallow but long—opened in his tunic, then his skin. Pain he had never known raced from the wound throughout his body. Warm liquid flowed down his hip, drenching his tunic.
His vision blurred, but he could see well enough to thrust his sword into the chest of the gloating soldier standing before him. He tightened his grip on the blade and pushed down as crimson soaked the man’s uniform. He collapsed and Zadok jerked the sword free.
Breathing fast, he reached down and sliced a long piece of cloth from the soldier’s cloak, wrapped it around his middle to stanch the flow of blood. It immediately soaked through. He cut one more, wrapped it around himself.
The Walls of Arad Page 24