His lips pursed and his chin dipped ever so slightly. She is.
I suppressed a relieved moan by clamping my teeth together, lifted up silent thanks to Yahweh, and allowed the guards to march me back into Shiloh.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-THREE
Sofea
Escorted between two stern-faced guards who’d found me crouched in the alley, I’d been ushered to a two-level dwelling on the far side of Shiloh. Although I expected the High Priest’s residence to be a raucous display of wealth, the large home was sparingly outfitted and very much brought to mind the warmth and welcome of Moriyah’s inn.
I was led into a large chamber where Eleazar sat at a small table scattered with papyrus documents and numerous potsherds with writing scrawled across their smooth surfaces.
The guards vacated the room as soon as Eleazar acknowledged my appearance with a casual flick of his fingers, so I was left alone with the man I’d very nearly killed tonight, only the scratch of his quill across papyrus filling the silence. He took his time writing the missive, dipping the feather into the inkpot time and time again, not once glancing at me.
Once he’d finished the message he was composing, he rolled it, put a small bit of wet clay onto the edge, and pressed his signet ring against the lump, a seal to confirm his identity on whatever important document he’d just written.
He strode across the room and handed the missive to someone standing just outside the doorway. “As soon as my seal has hardened,” he said, “take this to Yehoshua.”
Would the high commander of Israel’s armies be the one to slay me now? Or did Eleazar, like my father, take pleasure in carrying out his own judgments? The hair on my arms and neck rose as the idea took root.
The High Priest turned to stare at me, his arms folded across his body. He’d not changed his clothing since the incident, and a dark red stain trailed from his waist down to the hem of his white tunic, the remnants of the spill my trembling hands had caused.
The silence stretched so long that my knees began quivering again, just as they’d done on my walk to his table, and my fingers found their way to the shell necklace at my throat. I rubbed my thumb over the time-worn edges again and again, willing my pulse to slow.
“So you came here today to kill me, did you?” He peered at me, his fingers running over the length of his silvery beard.
Eyes downcast, I nodded, my mouth too dry to speak.
“But you changed your mind?”
I offered another vague nod.
“Explain.” The firm demand provoked a shiver to slide down the center of my back. I’d come into Shiloh today with the express purpose of poisoning him. My father would have had no leniency for even the thought of such a thing, so I expected none now.
“Please,” I said as I sank to my knees in front of the elderly man, my head down and tears spilling over. “I have no choice. They kill her if I do not do this awful thing—she is all I have.” My tongue stumbled over the hasty explanation, clumsy words tumbling over themselves in a mad dash of panic. “I deserve no mercy. . . . I have no sacrifice except my blood. But please . . . ask Yahweh for to protect Prezi, her life is more important than me.”
A large palm curved beneath my chin and I squeezed my eyes shut, anticipating the pressure of his hand squeezing like a vise and the haughty sneer of a man whose eclipsing power far overshadowed anything my father could have even imagined. But instead of crushing my jaw in an iron grip, Eleazar gently lifted my face, waiting until my eyes fluttered open in surprise.
The High Priest did not look down on me with disdain. He did not chide me for my foolishness or my ignorance. Instead, he looked me straight in the eye.
There was no contempt in his countenance. None of the arrogant mockery that characterized nearly every interaction I’d ever had with my father. There was only a deep compassion in his warm brown gaze, so full of unexpected tenderness that my chest ached.
“What makes you think your life is worth so little?” he said, his voice soothing, as if he were speaking to a child. “The Almighty Creator spoke your being into existence. How could you be anything less than precious?”
Dumbfounded by the question and his benevolent tone, I could only stare at him in wonder.
“From the accent in your speech, I assume that you hail from a foreign land.”
“Across the sea. Men destroy our village.”
“Ah,” he said. “Then you are a bit like Avraham, the father of our nation. Do you know of him?”
I nodded, remembering the firelit evening when Dov spoke of the way Elohim had whispered to Avraham, how he called him out of a distant land and out of the worship of gods so similar to my own.
“Although you did not hear the Voice like he did—and I suspect your journey here was not easy—I believe Yahweh has called you here for some purpose. I do not know what that purpose might be. Perhaps it was only to save my life today, perhaps some effect of this night will be echoed in generations to come. We may never know. But I have no doubt that his eye was upon you, even in that foreign land across the sea. He calls you by name, even if you have not yet learned to distinguish the sound.”
He moved his warm hand on the crown of my head, and I watched in bewilderment as his eyes slid closed and his lips began to move, as if in silent prayer. A weighted sense of awe seemed to fill the room as he did so, swallowing up every fear and pouring mercy over me like a sun-drenched sea.
I’d come to murder this man, to steal his life breath. If this formidable High Priest who stood in the gap between the Hebrews and their deity offered such mercy, what did that say of his God?
The gods my father claimed to speak for offered no pity and no peace. Only suffering and degradation. My father’s changeable ideas of justice had been capricious at best, malicious at worst.
But from everything I’d seen of Yahweh’s laws over the past months, they were a gift of protection to his people, offered promises of abundant blessings for obedience, and were written in stone. I may not hear the Voice calling my name, but his mercy, and that of the people who represented him, spoke to my heart.
The door to the chamber swung open. One of the Levite guards stepped inside with deferential apologies to the High Priest. “We’ve captured two men believed to be involved with this plot.”
“By all means, bring them inside,” said the priest. Then, to my surprise, he assisted me to my feet.
Two large Levite men entered the room, followed by Eitan and Nadir, both with hands bound by ropes. My breath escaped in an astonished rush, and I took one involuntary step forward, but the High Priest snagged my elbow and pulled me backward before putting his arm around my shoulders as if he were protecting me.
Eitan’s mantle dangled from one shoulder, and his disheveled hair was a wild, one-sided mane. With dirt smudged down one side of his face and a dried trickle of blood tracking down one leg, he looked to have been in some sort of altercation. One look at Nadir made it clear whom he’d been tussling with.
One side of Nadir’s forehead was swollen, sporting a painful-looking, purpling lump. A bloody cut on his neck was still oozing, his once-white tunic filthy and ripped at the neckline. As expected, he refused to meet my eye.
Eitan’s attention, however, was locked on me from the moment he’d stepped across the threshold. His eyes roved over me again and again, as if making sure that not one hair on my head had been harmed. Slowly, as if tension was unspooling from his center, his shoulders relaxed and his eyelids fluttered shut for two beats of unmistakable relief before his gaze locked on me again with an expression filled with such love that it nearly brought me to my knees again.
“As you can all see,” said the High Priest, interrupting my silent reverie with a grand sweep of his free hand from his head to his feet, “I am still very much alive. Perhaps the two of you might explain why that was ever in question.”
CHAPTER
THIRTY-FOUR
Eitan
The first time I’d
seen Sofea, she’d been a tattered little warrior, determined to protect her cousin from whatever savage things she imagined we would do to her. Now she stood in the protective embrace of the High Priest of Israel, all ferocity put aside for wide-eyed concern over me. Her curls were a tangled mess, her face smudged with dirt, and her feet and the hem of her white tunic stained with deep red splotches—and she’d never been more beautiful.
Forcing myself to drag my eyes away from her, I took in the appearance of the man who’d saved my life and given me my mother. The years had leached the remaining color from his long beard, leaving behind only silver, and the maze of wrinkles on his face had deepened, but his back was straight, and the calm authority he exuded had not lessened since the last time I stood before him.
“Eleazar,” I said, taking one small step forward that was halted by the sound of six swords erupting from sheaths around me. I lifted my bound hands, spreading my fingers wide in a display of submission before continuing. “Eleven years ago I stood before you as a child when Moriyah bat-Ishai was accused of killing two boys. My name is Eitan. Do you remember me?”
The priest’s jaw slackened in surprise, his gaze traveling up and down, as if reconciling the boy I’d been with the man standing before him now. “I do. I remember you well.” His brow furrowed. “We sent you to live in Kedesh to protect you, if I remember correctly.”
“You did.”
“So why are you trying to kill me now?”
“My only concern here is Sofea. I had no involvement in this horrific crime.” I gestured to Nadir, whose chin rose in stony defiance. “That man stole her and her cousin Prezi from Kedesh and then coerced her to follow his orders. It seems as though he’s been working with Raviv, who is holding Prezi captive in some sort of scheme to exact the vengeance he vowed upon me that day at the trial.”
Sofea’s knees seemed to go weak at the reminder of the peril her cousin was in. Eleazar steadied her, whispering a low reassurance as he pulled her closer to his side. A small rush of relief puffed from my lips. Surely if the priest believed her to be guilty he would not comfort her in such a way.
“The man who accused Moriyah of murder is involved in this?” he asked, then looked down at her. “Is this true?”
“Yes,” she replied. “Nadir trick us to follow him, and this Raviv, he has Prezi.” As she spoke, her voice strengthened and her backbone straightened, her nerve seeming to galvanize more with every word. “Nadir say I must give you the oleander wine or Prezi would die.”
“Oleander?” I gaped at Nadir, astonished that even now another of his betrayals could strike a blow. His face was blank, his cold eyes trained on the far wall. Other than Tal and Sofea, I’d never told anyone about the poison I’d inflicted on Zeev and Yared. He’d taken my confidence and wielded it as a weapon, one that would have seen Eleazar suffer a slow, excruciating death at Sofea’s hand and caused the woman I loved to be executed.
A bolt of fury flashed through me, breaking my tenuous hold on restraint. I surged toward the traitor, heedless of the fact that my wrists were still bound together. Four guards surrounded me, yanking me to a stop. Nadir had tripped backward at my sudden move and slammed into the wall, his eyes wide and his breath coming fast.
The shock on Sofea’s face somewhat assuaged my desire to hear the satisfying crunch of my fist colliding with Nadir’s nose. Relaxing my body, I rolled my shoulders back and sucked in slow, measured breaths until assured that my voice would hold steady.
“All over a woman,” I said, not taking my eyes off the coward. “He planned to kill you to free himself from imprisonment in Kedesh so he could have his best friend’s wife.” My lips curved into a parody of a smile. “Except Liora has no desire to marry the man who murdered her husband.”
Nadir’s chin jerked upward at the accusation, his gaze pinned on me. “You lie,” he rasped, and for the first time since I’d met him, Nadir truly looked like the killer I now knew him to be. Every line in his face had gone hard, and hate swirled in the space between us. “It was an accident,” he spat.
I shrugged my shoulders. “From her own lips, my friend. She claims you drowned her husband in order to have her.”
His lips pursed, a flicker of indecision moving across his brow. “She would never say such a thing.”
“Ah, but she did.” I arched my brows, baiting him. “She also told me what a relief it was to watch you be marched away to Kedesh in the first place.”
Rage burst from his mouth, a string of curses directed toward me that made it clear just what a skillful deceiver he’d been over the past few months. The pretense of a lowly fisherman living in unassuming solitude was camouflage for a soul rotted by lust, jealousy, and bitterness.
Pushing Sofea behind him, Eleazar ordered Nadir to be silent, and to my surprise he complied, midsentence, but any illusion of innocence had already been ripped to pieces.
“If I may speak?” Tal stepped forward, and gratitude swept through me again. His presence here was a reminder that Yahweh had indeed guided my steps over the past few days.
Arms folded across his barrel chest, Eleazar nodded, his silvered brows furrowing in deep contemplation. “Certainly.”
“I can attest to the truth of Eitan’s testimony. He is the one who warned me that someone meant you harm today. That is why extra guards were placed with you at the feast.”
“But we were told to search for a man, not a young woman.”
“That is true,” I said. “I had no idea Sofea was involved until Nadir revealed it just before we were arrested.”
“The guards at the gate saw this man”—Tal pointed at Nadir—“bolting from Shiloh. It was Eitan who stopped his escape.”
“I have no wish to harm you, Eleazar,” I said. “I owe you my life. I owe you the life of my mother. And Prezi is the only family Sofea has left. She would do anything to protect her.”
“Where is Raviv holding the girl?” Eleazar directed the question toward Nadir, who pointedly ignored the exalted High Priest of Israel.
“The accusations against you today are severe, young man,” he continued, his powerful voice echoing in the chamber and making Sofea shrink away. “If you are found guilty of this murder back in your village, the difference between a torturous, slow death by stoning or a swift end by the sword very well could be decided by your cooperation now.” He stabbed a finger toward him. “If that young woman dies, you will be considered an accomplice in her death as well.”
Nadir’s bearded jaw twitched as he weighed his response. After a long pause, he relented, but the words came through gritted teeth. “He’s holding her near his home at the edge of an apple orchard. He sent a man to Kedesh to spread a rumor that the girls wandered into the valley alone. He’s awaiting Eitan’s arrival.”
Of course. Nadir knew me well enough to guess that I would stop at nothing to find Sofea. Apparently I’d left the city before Raviv’s subterfuge reached my ears.
To my surprise, the barest hint of regret flashed in Nadir’s dark eyes, making me wonder if not every part of our friendship had been a farce. “I had nothing against you,” he said with a slight shrug. “It was always only for her.”
Weariness nagged at my bones. The truth gave me no satisfaction. “Then you did it all for nothing. Liora married a man from another tribe the day after I left and moved to his territory so you could never find her.”
Nadir’s eyes slipped closed as his mouth pressed into a hard, flat line, and his head dropped forward in defeat. A subtle gesture from Eleazar summoned the guards to escort him from the room. Resigned to his destiny and stripped of the last chance to possess a woman who had never wanted him, the man I’d called a friend did not struggle as they led him away to justice.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-FIVE
Sofea
As soon as Nadir was ushered from the room, Eleazar instructed the Levite guards to cut Eitan loose and return to their regular duties at the gate. His casual tone belied the fact that I’d very nea
rly killed him this night and also made it obvious that he did not hold either of us accountable for what Nadir had done. The rush of relief in my veins was nearly painful.
“I suppose you two plan to head north in the morning,” Eleazar said.
“Nadir say if he does not return in eight days, Raviv would harm my cousin.” When Eitan had told me the story of the twins’ deaths, I’d felt a measure of sympathy for their father, but it seemed the years spent wallowing in bitterness had eroded any mercy in the man. There’d been nothing but cool calculation in the way he’d discussed both Eitan and Eleazar’s murders with Nadir. Would my precious cousin even survive the three days it would take for us to return?
Eitan frowned, rubbing at his abraded wrists. “Raviv has proven himself to be ruthless. We must ensure Prezi’s safety.”
“And you’ll solicit help in Kedesh?” Eleazar asked as he sat back down at his table and pulled a fresh scrap of papyrus toward himself. “I’ll send a missive to Dov explaining what happened here.”
“Thank you. The captain of the guard is a friend. He will undoubtedly lend a few men to help with the rescue.” Then, in a practiced move, Eitan unwound the leather cord from his hair and set about taming the mess and retying it neatly at his nape.
With his quill hovering in midair over papyrus, the High Priest tilted his chin, clearly surprised by the length of Eitan’s hair. “You are a nazir?”
“I am. I took the vow five years ago.”
Eleazar continued to appraise Eitan with curiosity. “Five years? Most people choose to adhere to the regulations for only one cycle of the moon. I heard of a Benjamite who determined to consecrate himself for a year but abandoned the notion after a few months. How long do you plan to continue?”
“I have not yet determined the day.” Eitan folded his arms, shifting his feet as if he were uncomfortable. And I understood why. I will not end it until she is free, he’d told me on the roof of the inn. Not until Eleazar was dead would Eitan shave his head and end his vow.
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