Shelter of the Most High
Page 29
Astonished by his tender ministrations to my cousin, I let my gaze flit between the two of them. Prezi glanced away, a slight tinge of pink on her cheeks as she accepted a cup of water and a kiss from a visibly relieved Moriyah, and a four-armed, giggling hug from Chana and Abra. It seemed my cousin and I had all manner of interesting things to discuss. . . .
But first—
“Where is he?” I demanded of Tal, stomach churning and fists clenched tightly. He and Prezi had entered the courtyard alone, but surely he would not look nearly so collected if his best friend were not close behind.
“He is wounded,” he said, his brows gathering.
The blood seemed to drain from my head into my feet. “Wounded?”
Tal cleared his throat, his eyes darting to Moriyah, whose body had gone very still. “Raviv stabbed him in the arm. He lost some blood, so he was a little unsteady, but Baz seemed to think it was not nearly as dire as it looked and would heal quickly.”
I sagged down onto a three-legged stool nearby, my knees liquid with relief.
“He’ll be along shortly. Darek forced him to stop twice along the way to rest.” He smirked, a wicked gleam in his eye. “He grumbled, of course, but it was either that or be carried through the gates on Baz’s back.”
Moriyah came up behind me and grasped both of my shoulders lightly. “And my husband?”
“Darek is unharmed as far as I could tell,” Tal replied.
I reached up to cover her hands with my own, an acknowledgment of mutual relief over the men we loved.
“Tell us,” she said, looking between Tal and Prezi. “What happened?”
Tal began with his conversation this morning at the river, making it clear that although he had disagreed with Eitan’s decision, he understood why he’d made it. It was no wonder that our walk to the gates had been such a silent one. He’d known the whole time what Eitan had planned to do.
Prezi took up where Tal left off, explaining how Eitan had burst into the room like a thunderstorm to demand her release, how cold Raviv was as he threatened to kill him, and how the little girl appeared in the tree overhead, throwing the room into chaos that ended with Eitan pinned beneath Raviv’s foot.
Moriyah’s hands had become twin vises on my shoulders, her body pressing against my back as if she was suddenly in need of something, or someone, to lean on. Her words came out in a choked whisper. “How did he get free?”
Prezi looked over my head at the woman she’d come to admire so much, a brilliant smile spreading across her face. “Your husband won his freedom by offering his inheritance to Raviv.”
Moriyah huffed loudly, as if someone had wrenched the breath from her lungs. “Of course he did.” She released a low laugh that vibrated against my back. “There’s nothing he would not give up for that boy.”
As she spoke, the door from the inn opened, Eitan stepped into the courtyard, and the entire world went hazy.
His mother bent down and wrapped her arms around my shoulders, breathing a prayer of thanks to Yahweh as she squeezed me tightly for a moment. Then she spoke into my ear, her words both a release and a blessing. “Go to him, daughter.”
I obeyed, crossing the distance between us so quickly it seemed as though I’d flown. Slinging my arms around his waist, I plastered my cheek to his chest, desperate to feel the heartbeat that echoed my only thought. Alive. Alive. Alive.
Eitan brought one arm to hold me closer, his chin resting atop my head. Catching sight of the bloody bandage on his other arm, I startled, concerned that I’d hurt him in my desperation to be near him. But his fingers spread wider on my back, pressing me even tighter against himself. I closed my eyes and relaxed into his strength, heedless of everyone in the courtyard witnessing my shameless display of affection for him.
Behind me, Darek cleared his throat. “Six months, you two.” There was a note of amused censure in his tone.
“Two,” returned Eitan.
“Four and no less.”
A rumble of laughter vibrated against my cheek. “All right. That is only fair, since you had to wait that long for Ima.”
When Eitan finally released me, I saw that everyone had moved away to give us a few moments of privacy. Tal was seated across the table from Prezi, enjoying some of the meal Moriyah and I had distracted ourselves by preparing as we waited for the men to return. The children were pestering Baz for details about how Prezi had been rescued, and Moriyah and Darek had drifted across the courtyard, hand in hand.
My mother had been far from perfect, her actions dictated mostly by my father’s mercurial moods, yet she’d done her best to protect me the only way she knew how. But Eitan’s mother shone like a lone flame cutting the darkness. I could see now why Prezi had been so content to simply be near her, to reflect that light.
“I miss my mother,” I said as I watched Darek lead his wife up the stairs to the rooftop for their own private conversation. “But I am glad to call Moriyah my ima as well.”
With a heated expression that made a four-month betrothal seem very long, and a brief glance around to see if anyone was watching, Eitan pulled me behind the closest column and bent his head to kiss me. I halted him with three fingers against his lips.
“You leave me today,” I whispered. “I thought to never see you again.”
“I know. I hope you will forgive me.”
“But you bring Prezi back to me, just like you promised.”
“I said that I would spend the rest of my life showing you how much you mean to me. And even if that life had ended today, it would have been worth it. I will never stop fighting for you, never stop protecting my family—our family. If that costs me my life, then so be it.”
Frowning, I weighed the implications of such a declaration. “What of Raviv?”
“He vowed he would not pursue me again, even if I leave the boundaries of Kedesh.”
“So you go with Darek? To fight with the army?”
“I must, Sofea. Yahweh blessed us with this land, so we must defend it from the enemies that surround us and from enemies among us who offer false covenants and false gods. Darek and his men are the eyes and ears of Yehoshua, and I am eager to do my part in guarding not only this city, but all of Israel.”
Visions of him sneaking into enemy territory and wielding a sword in battle caused my heart to stutter, but Moriyah’s encouragement to entrust Eitan to Yahweh rose in my mind, covering over the fear with a strong sense of peace. A deep peace I’d never experienced even when I’d sought solace in the arms of the sea.
I reached up to caress the curl of his deaf ear, idly wondering how long it would be until I could twirl my finger into a lock of his hair again. “Will you always fight back to me?”
“Always.” He brushed a slow kiss across my lips, then pulled back as mischief crept into those hazel eyes. “Perhaps we’ll finish our sling lessons and then you can go into battle beside me. Baz says you fight like a little wildcat.”
Before I could return his teasing comment with one of my own, Malakhi peeked around the pillar, his black hair falling into his big gray eyes. “What are you doing back there?”
“None of your concern, rascal,” said Eitan.
Malakhi giggled, one dirt-smudged hand over his lips. “Why did you kiss Sofea like that?”
“We are betrothed,” said Eitan. “She is going to be my wife.”
Malakhi wrinkled his nose. “But she is a girl!”
“Someday you’ll understand, little brother.” With a roguish smirk, Eitan slipped his arm around my waist and dropped another swift kiss on my lips.
Malakhi screwed his face into a scowl and made a sound of profound disgust. But then a sly glint came into his eyes. “I’m going to tell Ima,” he blurted out before speeding off to make good on his threat.
Eitan released me with a loud laugh and chased his little brother through the courtyard, catching him about the waist and slinging him onto his good shoulder. The other children crowded around them, urging on the older br
other they adored with shouts of delight. Leaning over the parapet, Darek and Moriyah looked down on the melee from atop the roof, grinning in obvious affection for all of their children.
Bittersweet gratitude filled my heart. I may have lost my home to Seno and his men and had my mother and siblings stripped away, but Yahweh had provided me with a new home and a new family, one whose generosity and kindness did much to prove what sort of a God he truly was.
Epilogue
Moriyah
12 Adar (Four Months Later)
Across the courtyard, my son pulled his new wife close to his side, dipping low to whisper into her ear. Sofea flushed, her blue eyes flaring wide, and then surreptitiously jammed an elbow into his belly. With a hearty laugh, Eitan looped his long arm about her waist and pulled her curls aside to press a kiss onto her neck. Although she squirmed and playfully chided him for his public liberties, the joy on her lovely face and the sweet camaraderie between them caused a knot of emotion to well in my throat.
It was still difficult to reconcile the long-limbed, muscular man with the gaunt, hollow-eyed boy who had wandered into our vineyard all those years ago. Even as I’d stood by while Eitan pledged his life in sacred covenant with Sofea, I glimpsed leftover shadows of my little warrior in the proud line of his shoulders, the fading freckles over his cheeks and nose, and the bright hazel eyes that regarded his bride with mischievous delight.
In the past few months, Eitan had truly come into his own. Now that he’d finally been able to lay aside the burden of guilt he’d been carrying, the undercurrent of pent-up anger had dissipated, leaving behind a man whose purpose was clear and spirit light. And the woman he’d chosen to walk at his side had all the strength and courage necessary to weather marriage to a warrior of Israel, while still retaining a bright enthusiasm and near childlike inquisitiveness that endeared her to everyone.
May they grow together in knowledge of you, Yahweh.
Darek came up behind me, sliding his arms about my waist and settling his chin on my shoulder. “We could not have selected a more fitting bride for our son. They are a good match.”
“Indeed they are.” I braided my fingers into his as I watched the small army of women I’d gathered to prepare food and drink this evening. Overseen by both Sarai and Binah, who’d finally regained her strength, they buzzed about filling cups and passing baskets of bread, ensuring that everyone would go home with a full belly.
The laughter and chatter among the wedding guests was my food and drink, and I’d never been so replete with gratefulness for this inn. When Dov had offered me a vacant building inhabited only by cobwebs and dust soon after our arrival in Kedesh, I’d envisioned just such a gathering—small groups of people circled together on the ground; children darting between clusters of conversations, playing chase; fresh bread, sweet wine, and every sort of delicacy tantalizing the senses of my guests; and talented musicians weaving their magic into the mix. The satisfaction of a vision fulfilled settled deep into my bones.
And yet I could not ignore the sense that below the surface something was creeping toward us, an ancient something that had taken root in this land long ago and had not been uprooted as it should have been. My dreams of late had wordlessly voiced the notion—at times with vivid images that left me sweating and gripping at my bed linens, and other times with vague murmurings that I could not decipher but weighed on me throughout the day with burdensome tenacity.
These rumblings of unease within my soul were at their strongest when Darek and his men, which now included Eitan, ventured into enemy territory, and it was then that my prayers to the Most High neared the fervency of a battleground. These men I loved were fighting not only against flesh and blood, but also against the influence of the Adversary who sought to destroy this nation at its very core.
Here, within the sheltering walls of Kedesh, that malevolence seemed far away and the residents oblivious to the hovering menace, but I did not believe we could remain blind to it much longer. The generation that would rise in coming years must stand firm on the Torah, must cling to the truth and the Covenant, or suffer consequences similar to the faithless generation that balked at the borders of Canaan nearly sixty years ago.
I surveyed my younger children—Gidal, a sober and contemplative child; Malakhi, strong-willed and full of mischief; Abra, curious and vibrant; Chana, shy and sweet-natured; and Tirzah, just beginning to find her balance on tiny feet—and wondered what place each of them would find in the turbulent times to come. Would they remain faithful to the covenant and the Mighty One who rescued us from Egypt? Or would they relax into the comfortable complacency so many Hebrews had already begun to embrace?
My knees were already callused from many mornings and evenings of battle over such things, and I suspected those moments of supplication would only increase in frequency in years to come.
“You are brooding, my love” came Darek’s voice in my ear, breaking into my fretful pondering.
“Not brooding . . . simply contemplating the future.”
He turned me around gently, concern pulling his dark brows together. “Are you worried that Raviv will renege on his vow?”
“Are you?”
He shook his head, but his gaze flitted away too quickly, landing on something behind me.
“Darek.” I placed a finger beneath his bearded chin and drew his attention back to my face. “Do you suspect him of insincerity in this?”
“No.” He offered a reassuring smile. “I do not believe he will pursue Eitan, and he knows he has no legal right to harm you here. I only wish . . .” He paused and sighed. “After seeing Raviv’s daughters in the valley, looking so much like our girls . . . I wish that days like today could be shared with my brother’s family as well.”
A pang of latent guilt struck my heart. “As do I. Perhaps someday what was broken will be mended.”
“Perhaps.” He sighed as he took in the sight of our son and his new wife speaking with Tal and Prezi nearby, who I suspected were not long from their own betrothal announcement.
“Look around you, husband,” I said, my gaze touching on the faces of our children, our friends, our neighbors. “Look at all the beauty that has arisen from the brokenness of our beginning. There is always hope that Raviv’s heart will soften. And if Yahweh wills it, it will be so.”
Darek looked down at me, his brown eyes traveling over my face with appreciation and his mouth beginning to curve into the smile he reserved for me alone. “Thank you, my beautiful bride.” He brushed his lips over the brand on my face. “I will cling to that hope and pray that someday he will embrace mercy as well.”
A growl of displeasure lifted over the happy melody the musicians were playing, interrupting the kiss Darek had been about to press to my mouth. Rivkah, Tal’s youngest sister, was chasing Malakhi up the stairs toward the roof, demanding that he return her flower garland. Entertained by her overly dramatic response to his teasing, Malakhi tossed the ring of flowers over the parapet, where it broke apart and rained purple and white petals over the crowd below.
“That boy.” With a shake of his head, Darek let out a frustrated laugh. “Reining him in will be nothing less than a full-scale battle.”
“Shall I retrieve your armor, my love?”
He grinned, yanked me in for a quick kiss, and nudged me toward the group of women who had begun forming a circle at the center of the courtyard. “I’ll deal with our wayward son. You go dance.”
A Note From the Author
When reading a novel set among the events of the Bible, the last thing one expects would be a pirate attack, so when I stumbled across historical research about the fearsome sea marauders who plagued vessels and villages on the Mediterranean during the Bronze Age, I knew I had to place our heroine right in the middle of that sea.
Little is known about Sofea’s people, the Sicani. They were likely the first inhabitants of the island of Sicily, but their origins are contested by historians. However, the few artifacts that remain mak
e it clear that they were influenced by the Minoans and Mycenaeans, so much of Sofea’s life on her island is based loosely on what we know of those cultures and their religious beliefs. Therefore, readers may notice that Sofea’s main gods, Posedao and Atemito, are similar in name and character to Poseidon (the god of the sea) and Artemis (one of the fertility goddesses) and were the earlier iterations of the same gods. I borrowed these monikers from translations of Linear B, which is the earliest form of Mycenaean Greek, since I found no written documentation of the Sicani language.
There is some evidence of human sacrifice in later ruins on Sicily, and the Bible, as well as many other historical documents, speaks of such horrors in the ancient world. It’s not too great a stretch to imagine that instead of bulls being thrown into the sea to appease the god of the sea, as in latter forms of worship practices, a young maiden or two may have been tossed into the waves during times of famine or desperation, especially by a particularly depraved local chieftain like Sofea’s father. The mattanza, the annual bluefin tuna hunt where hundreds of the large and valuable fish are herded into nets during migrations off the northern Sicilian coast, is an actual tradition that dates back to the Bronze Age and was continued until recently.
Since the CITIES OF REFUGE series takes place during an interim period between the Conquest and the Judges, there is very little known about this time when the Israelites were settling into the Land, developing farms, building homes and villages, and learning how to apply and incorporate the Torah into their daily lives. But one thing is for sure: It did not take long before things went off the rails. As discussed in A Light on the Hill, the tribes of Israel struggled with the command they were given to drive the Canaanites completely from the Land of Promise. Each tribe was responsible to form their own army and rid their new territories of the Canaanites, Amorites, Perizzites, Hittites, and Jebusites.
Instead, we see that the warnings of Moses and Joshua were not heeded. The compromises made with these enemies so undermined the foundations of Israel that within only thirty years of Jericho, they were in severe danger of losing the Lord’s protective covering that had brought them such victory under Moses and Joshua. It is within this context that Eitan is eager to fight alongside his Naftali brethren to protect the cities allotted to his tribe against the very real threat of resident and displaced Canaanites and the powerful kingdoms that lay to the north and east.