She stepped backward. Could she outrun him in the darkness? She had to. This was her home. Her land. Her tribe.
He caught her wrist and wrapped it with rope. Stray strands scratched her skin.
“Please.” She tensed her muscles and pulled against his weight to no avail. Tears wet her cheeks as he bound her other wrist. “My family—”
“Most of my family is buried in a mountain.” He unhitched the mule and snapped the reins.
Her body stilled as if encased in clay. Eliab wasn’t listening to her hardship.
Distant shouts echoed from the vineyard.
“Father.” Her voice squawked like a strangled pigeon.
Eliab stifled her shouts with a rag. “You can ride the mule or I will drag you behind it. Decide. Now.” He turned toward the road. “Hoist the nets.”
Was he going to trap her kin like wild beasts?
In a blur, he mounted his ride, still holding the rope as if she were a wayward goat.
How could she leave Shiloh? Leave her mother? Leave her father? Her legs trembled as if the ground shook. She did not take a step.
The mule trotted forward.
With no arms for balance, she fell on her side. Her jaw ached from the gag. Coughing, she tugged on the rope and struggled to rise. If he kicked the animal, she would be dragged through rock and dirt.
Eliab dismounted, swept her into his arms, and sat her sideways on the mule. He had caught her and now he caged her with reins at her back and reins at her chest. His body imprisoned her. He leaned into her arm and slapped the mule’s rump. “Hah.”
She grabbed the animal’s mane, weaving her fingers into the coarse hair for balance.
How could the tribe of Benjamin thieve wives from the tribe of Ephraim? Where was their honor? Where was their shame? And where was God? The feast this night was in His honor.
While Eliab was intent on the terrain, she worked a silver band from her finger and let it slip down her leg, down the mule’s withers, to the ground. She would leave a trail for the men of Shiloh.
For what was lost could be found.
2
Naomi’s back bowed, unable to hold her upright after hours on an undulating animal. After leaving Shiloh, Eliab had abandoned the road for the hills. The crags and cliffs offered cover but challenged their mule’s footing.
Eliab dismounted in a small cavern. A few of his thieving tribesmen waited, huddled in talk. Sobs came from a nearby cave. The black-as-a-starless-night opening kept Naomi from seeing what was happening inside. Naomi slid from the mule and headed toward the entrance. Eliab caught her arm. She thrashed against his hold, unwilling to ignore a tribeswoman suffering at the hands of a wicked Benjamite.
“She is not your concern.” Eliab tugged her toward a stone backrest.
Digging her heels into the dirt, she resisted his pull like an ornery goat. He yanked. She squatted. He jerked. She fell. His strength won. She slumped to the ground and sat against a flat-sided rock.
Eliab removed the rag from her mouth and unbound her hands. He seemed confident that she wouldn’t run into the desert alone without provisions.
He offered her water from a skin. “I do not mean to be harsh.”
“And yet you are.” Water dribbled from her mouth as she drank. She would have sworn her cheeks had stretched thin like pulled dough. She handed the skin back to him and then rotated her wrist to ease the numbness.
“I do not know your name.” He smoothed a hand over the stubble of a beard. “You know mine because of Gera’s rebuke, but we were not properly introduced.”
“I believe you are to blame for that.”
He crouched, waiting for an answer. In the dim light, his hair seemed lighter than her brown locks, which were almost the shade of a raven’s feather. His intent gaze never left her face, and his stoic features made it seem as if he could see her soul.
“I am Naomi bat Heriah.” Her throat grew tight as she recalled her father’s name. “And you are Eliab, a Benjamite bandit who stalks dancing virgins.”
“Ahh.” He chuckled. “You do know of me. We are not strangers.”
Strangers? He touched her as a husband. But he did not force his will on her in the grove. Other men may truly have made themselves her mate. The continuing cries from the cave reminded her of her vulnerability.
She wrapped her arms around her waist and rubbed her wrists against her indigo sash. “Where are you taking me?”
Eliab stood. “Near Gibeah.”
“Gibeah?” The name rushed forth. Her brothers had been killed trying to seize the wicked city. “Is it not in ruins?”
“We have settled due east.”
Would her brother and father find her outside the city? Did her tribesmen even know where the Benjamites had settled, or that they were the ones who had raided the feast?
Another Benjamite called Eliab’s name. He motioned for Eliab to join a group of raiders. Her captor uncoiled the rope from his belt.
She tucked her hands behind her back. Her skin itched at the thought of being bound again.
“Go to your band of thieves. Where would I run to?” His absence meant she’d have time to gain her bearings and leave another trace.
As Eliab joined the Benjamites, a woman was helped off a donkey on the far side of the huddle.
Naomi recognized the height of her friend. Praise God, for Cuzbi was alive. Selah! She stood and held out her arms. “Cuzbi, my sister.”
Benjamites hushed her greeting.
Cuzbi strolled forward and bestowed a brief hug on Naomi before planting herself on the ground near the worn stones. Her long legs sprawled out before her as if this were a gossip-filled chat in a remote tent. “I fit better on a stallion than on an ass.”
Naomi squeezed Cuzbi’s hand. Eliab had shown restraint this night, but her friend may not have been afforded the same regard. “You are well otherwise?”
Cuzbi tilted her head upon the boulder as if it were made of linen. “My backside is still riding that animal even though Ashbanel stopped so I could rest. They’re half-brothers, your husband and mine.” Cuzbi indicated the Benjamite that had summoned Eliab. “Ashbanel is the eldest son of Berek.”
How could Cuzbi talk as if this was a normal betrothal among brothers? Naomi placed her hands on Cuzbi’s cheeks. No fever could be felt. “Does he have you under a spell, sister? We will not be in the company of these Benjamites much longer. We need to leave something behind for the men of Shiloh to discover.” Her heart drummed as she scanned her friend’s jewelry. Naomi tried to loosen a gold band from Cuzbi’s finger. “One of your rings?”
Cuzbi fisted her hand. “I will not leave a mark. What do I gain if my father comes? Ashbanel is an elder of his tribe. He can claim land and livestock. Soon we will have servants. That is more than I could have hoped for from the men of Shiloh.”
How could Cuzbi accept one of these thieves as a suitor? Naomi’s ears buzzed like a swarm of locusts as she contemplated her friend’s betrayal.
“If this man is an elder, then he is to blame for the murder of our tribesmen and for the massacre of his own.” Naomi’s voice warbled as she thought of her family’s loss. “My brothers are dead. Do you not care that this Ashbanel robbed you from your mother and father and sisters? He is too foul to have been given a wife.”
Cuzbi curled her knees under her robe. “Hush, sister. My father would have arranged a marriage soon enough. Who is to say my husband would have stayed in Shiloh?” Cuzbi’s voice lowered to a raspy whisper. Her eyes glimmered in the meager moonlight. “Ashbanel saw me come from our tent. He said he knew I was the woman God had chosen for him. If that is true, how can I leave him for an uncertain future?”
Naomi’s jaw fell open. “You assist your father in the marketplace. You barter with the best. How can you be wary of an offer of marriage?”
“This was my fourth year to dance at the feast. I’ve waited long enough.” Cuzbi wrapped her arms around her waist as if a breeze had chilled her flesh. “
I don’t want to wait anymore.”
Naomi stood and balanced herself against a boulder. She grasped her sash and lifted it over her head. An indigo swatch would stand out amid the pale landscape. “My father has lost two sons. He cannot afford to lose me.”
Pebbles crunched behind her. She turned to see Ashbanel approaching.
“Why are you disrobing?” Ashbanel’s inquiry was as harsh as a whip crack.
Cuzbi jumped to her feet.
“Uh…I’m…” Naomi’s stall came out like a moan.
Eliab came alongside his half-brother.
“I am lengthening my robe.” Naomi’s words flowed together, but her reply held steady despite the pulse of panic charging through her limbs. “Shall my ankles be exposed for all to see?”
Eliab straightened to his full height and grew taller than his half-brother. “Naomi is my concern. She can attend to her needs.”
“She is supposed to be seeing to our needs. Do not forget that, brother.” Ashbanel summoned Cuzbi with a sweep of his arm.
Naomi hopped out of Ashbanel’s path. Her gaze met Cuzbi’s. Cuzbi turned away, chin high. Naomi struggled to breathe. How could Cuzbi align with the tribe of Benjamin? Against a friend she had known since birth?
“We must ride.” Eliab’s hand was heavy upon her shoulder.
Would he touch her later? Make her his wife? Make it so she could never to return to her tribe or family?
Mules spidered into the cavernous hillside. Eliab did not seem in as much of a hurry as his tribesmen. Was he confident in his skill to elude the men of Shiloh?
As she and Eliab passed the small cave, stuttered cries, shrill and desperate, escaped from inside.
Words from the Law flooded her conscience. Moses had taught her people to do what is right and good in the Lord’s sight. How had a tribe of Israel become so perverse? And how had this night become so lawless?
“Naomi?” Eliab stared at her as if she were bewitched. He loosened his grip to help her mount. “Get on the mule.”
She was not like Cuzbi. She could not accept the deception and thievery of the Benjamites. And she could not leave a dancer from Shiloh crying in a cave. She ripped free from Eliab and darted into the dark mouth of the mountain.
I cannot forget who I am.
3
Naomi rushed into the cave with her hands outstretched. She tried not to trip or fall or injure herself. Thank God for the moonlight’s creep. She scanned the shadows, blinking, listening. Where was the weeping coming from?
Figures huddled beyond the light near a jut in the stone. A form bent over another person, who rocked upon the ground. She guessed the larger figure to be a Benjamite. What was the captor doing to the troubled soul?
Naomi’s skin flushed hot as if she lay baking in the noonday sun. She fisted her hands and lunged at the attacker. “Leave her be.”
A young man, not much larger than she, backed away, arms raised.
“I have done nothing wrong. She will not keep quiet.” His voice cracked at the end of his defense.
“Nothing wrong?” Naomi’s shriek reverberated in the cavern. “You snatched her from the festival. That is something.” She came face to face with the Benjamite. The boy’s breath breezed her cheeks.
“I need her silent. I have tried everything to comfort her. And still—”
“Isa?” Eliab spoke as if he knew the offender.
The boy shuffled toward Eliab. His excuses trailed after him.
“Na-oh-mi,” cried the girl huddled on the ground.
She recognized that voice. Naomi knelt and cradled her friend. “Jael, I am here.”
“He ripped my tunic.” Jael clutched her chest as if wounded in battle.
“How did this happen, Benjamite?” Naomi’s question held a hint of accusation. Her temples throbbed as she brushed a hand over Jael’s damp hair.
“I tried to help her up,” Isa explained. “On the mule. The cloth came apart in my hand. She’s been wailing ever since.”
Naomi cupped Jael’s chin. “Is this the truth?”
Jael nodded.
With no father, brothers, or kinsmen, Jael and her mother were cared for by the generous people of their tribe. And since so many men had died warring with the Benjamites, coins were clutched tightly. Jael’s garment was probably threadbare at best.
Eliab strode toward her and Jael. “Repair the tunic swiftly? We must be on our way.”
Naomi rose and encouraged Jael to do the same. “I will need the light of the moon and the stars. Restoring the weave will take some time.”
“Make haste.” Eliab escorted them into the clearing. “You have the blink of a star.”
She led Jael to the rock where she and Cuzbi had rested. Jael’s garment had separated almost to her waist. Bared breasts would not do with all these vile men around. Naomi folded the linen on each side of the tear and tied the loose threads. Eliab and Isa stood by their mounts, muttering sharp words.
“I was not dancing at the feast,” Jael said, her chest rising and falling, testing Naomi’s hold. “I had one more year.” Jael wiped her cheek. Teardrops wetted Naomi’s fingers.
“I know.” Naomi pressed Jael’s hands on the seams. “Hold here, near to your chest. I am accustomed to proper light when I weave. A belt will help keep this closed.” Naomi removed her indigo sash. She bit the edge until it gave way enough to rip into pieces. “I have enough linen to bind your waist. Furthermore, you and I shall have matching head coverings.” Two women in colorful dress might hasten a rescue.
“How many knots does it take?” Eliab paced in front of the boy.
“I will finish soon.” Soon enough for her brother to scout out her trail.
Naomi wrapped Jael’s tiny waist, securing the restored stitching.
“Shalom, Naomi.” Jael’s voice hitched as though she would cry again.
Naomi draped a piece of cloth over Jael’s hair. “You are fine, sister. Better dressed than before. When I get back to my loom, yours will be the first robe I make.” She kissed Jael’s forehead and took her back to where the mules—and the men—were stationed.
Isa traipsed forward. “I was not cruel.”
Naomi nodded and bit the inside of her cheek. She did not know this Benjamite, and she did not trust his words, but she did not need another enemy.
Jael embraced her. “You have given me hope.”
“Remain strong,” Naomi whispered.
Isa took hold of the reins and lifted Jael with ease onto the back of the mule. “Toda raba,” he said from atop his mount.
“My friend’s thank you is enough.” Naomi’s stare did not leave the boy’s face.
Isa nodded and rode off. The clattering of hooves on ridge and rock reminded Naomi of the chaos of this night. This evening was supposed to be a time to feast, a time to worship, a time to dance, not a time to invade.
Eliab uncoiled the rope. “Isa tended my father’s flocks with my brother, Joshua. His word is trustworthy.”
“Must you bind my hands?” Her wrists ached at the thought of the prickly cords.
“You fled from me into the cave. Do I have your word that you will not run from me again?”
Should she vow submission to Eliab? What if she had the opportunity to escape? Were they near the border? Near the lands of the tribe of Benjamin? Or still in the land of Ephraim?
Eliab grabbed her hand and tugged her close.
“Wait.” Should she agree? Her confidence began to crumble. “What did I do wrong? Would you not have gone off to help Isa if you thought he were in trouble?”
“Yes, I would have gone.” He snapped the rope and removed the gag from his satchel.
Saliva pooled in her mouth. She would not be bound like an untamed animal. Not again.
“I will not run away.” She spat out the words as if spitting sand from her mouth. “Do not bind me.” She punched Eliab’s chest. He did not move. Not one step.
He caught her arm, encircled her waist, and lifted her onto the mul
e.
“Rest, Naomi. You are a tower of stones. The mule listens to one master.” Eliab’s arms closed around her, holding her next to his body. His tunic wasn’t the most comfortable bed, but his body was warm, and up until this point, he had not harmed her.
She prayed her father would find her before Eliab desired a union and made her his wife.
Fighting sleep’s snare proved useless. As the mule swayed side to side, her eyelids became millstones. When her eyes fluttered open, a pomegranate-red ribbon of sky rose above the hills. For a moment, before her body fully awakened, she floated, blissful, believing she was sleeping in her mother’s arms, rocking gently, back and forth.
Her head snapped upright. She was not in Shiloh. She was on a mule maneuvering a downward path to a wicked land.
“Ah, you’re with me.” Eliab sat as straight as a rested merchant carting goods to the market.
“And you’re still here.”
“I am not a dream.”
“You’re a curse.”
“Good. I chose a quick-witted wife.”
“Hah. I have suffered enough for one night.” She arched her back to help the mule’s descent. The stretch of her muscles gave her new life and new hope of a rescue.
“I haven’t heard any complaints in the last hours.” His tone was teasing.
Ignoring his remark, she held fast to the mane as the mule reached level ground and trotted around the base of the hill, avoiding an earlier landslide of rocks.
She glanced at the camel-colored cliffs, willing Ephraim’s army to be perched there.
Eliab jerked on the reins.
Her cheekbone slammed into his shoulder. She rubbed her face, scowling, until she saw why Eliab had halted. Her heart picked up speed as if she had run down the trail.
Several men surrounded Isa and Jael, taunting and jeering in a foreign tongue.
These were not her people. This was not a search party. These men were bandits.
Eliab raised his right arm. “Leave our brother and sister in peace.” His warning hummed in her ear long after his command ceased.
Building Benjamin Page 2