The priest rolled up the parchments. “This is the law of our God, Yahweh, the one and only God of the Hebrews.”
Mutterings flared up among the crowd. The rumors were apparently true—not only had the priest read four different laws, each carrying capital punishment, but the girl had engaged in that rare and repulsive transgression of wearing men’s clothes and worse, had taken up weapons, which were the sole prerogative of men.
Obadiah pounded his staff until quiet was restored.
“We heard the accusations and the law,” Judge Zifron said. “What is the evidence?”
Seesya pushed back his hair on both sides, exposing his ears, which were still bruised and scarred. “That’s what she did on our wedding night.”
The audience groaned, but Deborah was pleased. If the ears looked like this after so many weeks of healing, the initial damage must have been severe.
Seesya lowered his collar and lifted the hair on the back of his head, showing the fresh cut in the back of his neck. “That’s from the sword she pointed at me yesterday.”
Angry calls for punishment came from the men in the crowd.
“She was wearing a man’s armor and boots.” He jumped down from the platform, went to Deborah, and pulled down her hood. “Look at her hair, shaved as a man, too.”
Deborah faced him. He was taller, but the difference between them was smaller than she’d remembered. Rather than cower like a girl or look down at the ground, she stood erect and stared at him as a man would face his equal. Seesya’s eyes were dark—not the glistening, intelligent spark of Barac’s eyes, or the rich, warm glow of Zariz’s eyes, but the cold, arrogant black eyes of a man without a heart. A tide of rage swelled inside her. Her fists clenched, and she took a step toward him.
Seesya stepped back and yelled, “There you have it—she’s ready to attack her husband again!”
A collective groan came from the crowd.
“If you needed more evidence, you have it now.” Jogging over to the pile of stones, Seesya picked one up. “My wife is guilty of each of the four sins, for which the punishment is death!”
The men in the audience cheered.
Pounding his staff, Obadiah called for order.
Judge Zifron waited until they calmed down. “This matter is clear,” he said. “We heard the accusations. We learned Yahweh’s laws. And we saw the evidence. Let the elders of the town pronounce her guilt, and I will declare her punishment.” He pointed at the Pit of Shame.
The elders looked at each other, hesitating.
“The law,” Obadiah said, “allows the accused to present a defense to the accusations and explain away the evidence.”
Judge Zifron turned to the priest. “The accused is a woman, in case you haven’t noticed.”
The audience laughed.
Obadiah waited for silence and said, “In every trial under the laws of Yahweh, the accused deserves justice, which includes an opportunity for defense against the accusations.”
The judge banged his hands on the armrests. “Fine. Her husband will speak in her defense.”
“That won’t do,” the priest said. “Her husband is the accuser.”
“How about her father?”
Obadiah sighed. “She has no father, as you know.”
“Is that right? I must have forgotten.” Judge Zifron chuckled. “Surely you don’t suggest that we allow a woman to speak here?”
“Why not?” Deborah stepped forward. “I can speak for myself.”
The men in the audience booed.
Obadiah pounded his staff. “A woman may not address a court.”
“Exactly,” Judge Zifron said, exchanging smiles with Seesya. “That’s why we’re ready for the elders’ judgment.”
“Not so fast,” Obadiah said. “Someone else could speak for her.”
The judge shrugged. “If you can find such a gullible volunteer.”
“Hear! Hear! Hear!” The priest raised his voice, addressing the whole crowd. “Is there a man here willing to speak for the accused?”
The men booed even louder. Someone threw a half-eaten apple, hitting Deborah’s back, making the wounds flare up painfully.
Pounding his staff, the priest yelled, “Silence! Silence! Silence!”
The crowd continued to boo, and Judge Zifron shook his head, amused.
When they finally quieted down, Obadiah was red-faced and hoarse. “This is a trial under the laws of our God! The accused deserves a defense! Is there not even one man among you who will speak for her?”
No one volunteered.
“Enough with the talking.” Seesya climbed onto the pile of stones and opened his arms wide. “Would you let your wife conspire against you? Strike you? Try to kill you?”
“Hell, no,” a man yelled from the top of the wall, winning applause and laughter.
“Death!” Seesya picked up the stone. “Death!”
Many men in the audience raised their fists and chanted, “Death! Death! Death!”
Deborah glanced at Kassite, but he was sitting calmly in the armchair, observing it all with a faint smile. She looked around at the hundreds of angry men yelling, “Death! Death! Death!” Their hate was shocking, and the realization hit her that this trial might end in her death!
Could she get away?
The horses were tied behind Kassite and the Edomite men. She could make a run for it, jump on a horse, and ride, but there were people everywhere, even on the road. She would have to trample them, cause injuries, or even worse, and then get through Seesya’s soldiers, who sat on their horses by the road halfway up to the Weeping Tree.
Obadiah pounded the platform, but no one could hear it over the noise of the crowd, which kept chanting, “Death! Death! Death!”
From the corner of her eye, Deborah saw Seesya do something, and as she turned to look, his arm completed the pitch, and the stone he had held was flying at her. She dodged instinctively, but there wasn’t enough time to get completely out of the way, and the stone hit her shoulder. She lost her balance, fell down, and rolled on the ground, which caused her wounds to hurt badly. She cried out in pain, rising on all fours.
Around her, the men cheered.
The stone that had hit her was lying in the dust within reach. She picked it up, rose to her feet, and turned toward Seesya. He was still on top of the pile of stones, fists in the air, basking in the adoration of the crowd.
Deborah put a foot forward to gain balance, aimed carefully, and threw the stone.
It hit Seesya exactly where she intended.
His hands dropped to his crotch, his expression went from glee to horror, and he uttered a high-pitched wail. Bending over, he rolled down from the pile of stones and lay on the ground, moaning.
The audience exploded with laughter—men, women, children, soldiers, Kassite and his Edomite entourage. Even Judge Zifron, his younger sons, and Obadiah couldn’t hold it back and laughed.
Two of the soldiers helped Seesya up to the platform, and someone brought a chair for him, placing it next to Judge Zifron. Seesya’s face was pale, and he kept his eyes on Deborah, staring at her with naked hatred.
When the laughter quieted down, Kassite rose from his chair.
“With your permission, Judge Zifron,” he said, “I would like to speak in defense of my soldier Borah, who is accused here.”
His slow, deliberate manner of speaking, and the foreign accent with which he pronounced the Hebrew words, drew the crowd’s full attention.
“Thank you, Prince Antipartis,” Judge Zifron said, “but I wouldn’t dream of burdening my guest with this unpleasant task.”
“Not at all,” Kassite said, smiling. “It is the unpleasantness of the day’s heat and needless delay that I wish to save us all from enduring. The facts seem clear enough to proceed quickly, once a brief defense is presented.”
“I’d very much like to hear it,” the judge said. “However, our law allows only Hebrew men to speak during a trial.”
Kassite opened h
is arms, feigning shock. “Is it possible that your law would grant the privilege of speaking at a trial to any Hebrew peasant, yet shut your ears to the wisdom of a prince who has spoken in many affairs of law, commerce, and diplomacy, and has addressed many estimable tribunals?”
“I wish it were possible, but that’s the law, as our priest will confirm.” Judge Zifron turned to Obadiah of Levi.
“The law is clear,” Obadiah said. “Only a Hebrew man may give testimony as a witness at trial, but there’s no prohibition against allowing an honorable guest to speak in defense of the accused, as long as it’s not testimony.”
The judge gave him a hostile stare. “If that’s the case,” he said, “then we’re honored to hear Prince Antipartis.”
Deborah watched this exchange anxiously, and when it was resolved, she could have cheered. In allowing Kassite to speak, the judge had unwittingly opened the door to a whole set of crafty maneuvers. Kassite’s brilliant performance had saved Sallan’s life and earned him freedom against all odds. Now it was her life that hung in the balance, and the Elixirist himself had taken on her defense. Her hopes revived, she observed him with rapt attention.
Kassite took a few steps, placing himself before the center of the platform. “To speak competently for the accused,” he said, “I would like to ask a few questions of the only witness against the accused.”
“What questions?” Seesya’s voice came off scratchy and high. “The evidence is clear, and a moment ago she tried to kill me again—didn’t you see that?”
The audience laughed.
“If I may point out,” Kassite said, “she only tossed back the stone you threw at her. Being a good wife, she must have realized that you needed it to try a second time.”
Again, the audience laughed, which infuriated Seesya.
“She’s my wife.” Seesya raised a clenched fist. “Are you arguing that a wife should be allowed to return her husband’s discipline? Yell back at him? Flog him in retaliation? Cast stones at him?”
Whatever support Seesya expected to win from the crowd, his words were greeted with only scattered approvals.
“I’m her husband!” Seesya shouted. “By law, I speak for her, and if I say she did something, it’s as if she herself confessed her crime!”
“Of course.” Kassite bowed. “There is no question that your position as the master of your wife in every respect gives you complete control over her—under normal circumstances, that is. But since she is not only your wife, but also my hired soldier, please indulge us by answering a few simple questions.”
Seesya turned to his father.
“What’s the purpose of this?” Judge Zifron rubbed his hands. “My son has testified to everything he knows, and the evidence is clear that she’s guilty.”
“Yes, it appears so,” Kassite said. “But when a life is in the balance, even a woman’s life, which is of little importance, the court surely wishes to administer justice in fairness before all these good people.” He gestured at the crowd. “The court does not want the people to doubt its objectivity and evenhandedness in taking the life of this woman—a girl, really, and one who only a year ago was orphaned when her parents were murdered on their homestead by unknown assailants.”
The crowd voiced its agreement. Like Deborah’s late parents, many of the spectators lived on isolated homesteads.
“The questions you ask,” the judge said, “should not be disrespectful to my son.”
“Nothing of the sort,” Kassite said. “My only wish is to assist the court with a few clarifications in order to substantiate the evidence.”
Judge Zifron hesitated. “Fine,” he finally said. “A few questions.”
At that moment, Sallan appeared through the open gates, walking slowly with his two boy-servants, followed by the two horses Kassite had bought the day before, as well as Soosie. The sight of her horse made Deborah smile, remembering how he had rushed at Seesya and knocked him down by the gate the previous day. Despite his age and weathered appearance, Soosie was a special horse, and she hoped to ride him again before the day was over.
Everyone watched Sallan. In his good hand, he carried a jug with an upturned goblet on its neck. His other hand was heavily bandaged. He gave the jug to Kassite before walking over to join the Edomite men, who made room for him. His two servants, one of them bandaged around the head, tied the horses next to the others.
Kassite removed the goblet from the jug and placed both items on the edge of the platform. To Deborah, the goblet seemed identical to the one from which she had drunk the first two doses of the Male Elixir.
“Please excuse my indulgence,” Kassite said. “In my old age, the mind dries up unless it is irrigated with a sprinkle of wine once in a while.”
The judge smiled. “Enjoy, my friend.”
Filling the goblet, Kassite raised it. “To life!”
He swiveled, toasting the crowd, which replied with clapping, and brought the goblet to his lips, tilting it. Deborah, who stood near him, could see that he drank none of the wine.
“In this land,” Seesya said, “we say that a man who drinks alone, dies alone.”
Kassite poured more wine, causing some to spill, reached up toward the platform, and offered Seesya the goblet.
Seesya leaned forward in his chair, took the goblet, and gulped it down until it was empty. He smacked his lips and tossed the empty goblet, which landed in the dirt by Deborah’s feet.
Kassite ignored the goblet and placed the jug on the edge of the platform. “Did you like my wine?”
“Hated it,” Seesya said. “Worst wine I ever tasted.”
Opening his arms wide in exaggerated surprise, Kassite said, “The worst ever?”
“Yes.” Seesya cleared his throat and spat on the platform. “Calling it wine is an insult to all spirits.”
Finally, he was winning laughter from the crowd, which fueled his confidence. “It’s so bad,” he yelled, “that I’m about to puke—”
“That’s enough,” his father said. “You’re insulting our guest.”
“Not at all,” Kassite said. “In fact, your son is being very helpful to me.”
An awkward silence greeted his statement, which made no sense.
“You see, I only drink good wine.” Kassite raised the jug in the air, showing it around. “However, there’s more than good wine here.”
Again there was silence, and Seesya’s grin began to fade.
“My studies,” Kassite continued, “covered not only commerce and medicine, but also the art of mixing powerful potions. This wine, for example, is mixed with a tasteless addition that we, in Edom, call the Truth Elixir. Once a witness drinks it, his testimony shall always be truthful.”
Seesya became visibly pale. “What did you give me?”
“No harm will come to you,” Kassite said pleasantly. “Unless you lie, in which case, the Truth Elixir will ignite a fire inside you.”
“What?” Seesya lurched to the edge of the platform, his hand on the hilt of his sword. “I’m going to—”
“You better sit down,” Kassite said. “Excitement or physical movement will have the same ruinous effect as a lie. You probably feel already a certain burning in your palate and stomach due to the lie you told about hating my wine. Do you feel the burning? Do you?”
Seesya clutched his chest and dropped back in his chair.
“Let me ask you again, then. How did you like my wine?”
“Hated it!” Seesya folded his arms around his chest and moaned in pain.
“Prince Antipartis!” Judge Zifron got up. “What have you done to my son?”
“If he calms down and tells the truth,” Kassite said, “he will be fine.”
The judge beckoned the soldiers, who were gathered near the Weeping Tree. They mounted their horses and started down the road toward the platform.
“I wouldn’t do that,” Kassite said. “The last thing your son needs now is excitement.”
Raising his hand to stop the sold
iers, Judge Zifron glared down, his face red with anger. “Give him something to fix it, or by all the gods of Canaan, I will have you cut down this moment!”
“There is nothing to give him,” Kassite said. “The only antidote is to tell the truth. As long as the witness answers honestly, no harm shall come to him.” Kassite stepped closer to face Seesya from the foot of the platform. “My first question is—”
“I won’t answer any questions,” Seesya yelled.
“That would be unwise,” Kassite said. “The Truth Elixir reacts the same way to lies, failures to respond, and attempts to leave. It is cleverer than you, my young friend. Now, sit back and answer my questions. Are you the son of Judge Zifron?”
Seesya moaned harder, bending until his chest rested on his knees.
Judge Zifron put a hand on his shoulder. “Son, answer the question.”
“Are you,” Kassite repeated, “the son of Judge Zifron? Yes or no?”
“Yes!”
“Very good. The pain should ease now. Next question: Is your mother’s name Vardit?”
Seesya stopped moaning but remained bent over. “She’s my mother.”
“Yes or no.”
“Yes!”
“Is the sky blue?” Kassite winked at the crowd, winning laughter. “Is it?”
Seesya glanced up. “Yes.”
Deborah was amazed at this turn of events. She realized that Kassite had planned it beforehand, arranging for Sallan to bring the jug at the right moment to set the trap for Seesya. The potency of the Truth Elixir made her rejoice, for it meant that his Male Elixir was similarly potent, and she was closer to manhood than she had expected—if she survived this trial. She glanced at the Pit of Shame and shuddered. Would Kassite know what questions to ask? She had told him her story when she first arrived at the tannery, but it had been a long and eventful time since then. Did he remember the details?
“Excellent,” Kassite said. “Do you know the accused?”
“Yes.” Seesya glanced at Deborah, his eyes feverish with hate.
“Is her name Deborah, daughter of Harutz?”
Deborah Calling Page 16