Three strangers advanced toward Eliab, but their stares strayed toward her breast.
Her skin prickled as if their lust had stroked her flesh.
Eliab’s rebuke came again in a different dialect. He shortened the reins, leaving excess for a whip. “You and Jael are my sisters,” he whispered. “If you say otherwise, Isa and I are dead men and you will be a Moabite’s whore.”
Her throat cinched. Was not Eliab’s company preferable to being forced upon by a gang of pagans?
She turned her head slightly. “As you say, my brother.”
4
As the foreigners advanced, Naomi shifted closer to Eliab. The solid tower of his body gave her comfort, but not enough to keep her hands from trembling. Moisture pooled above her lip. Being bound to a Benjamite was shameful enough, but she would never join with a heathen. Never. Not while she had breath.
A Moabite with a toothless grin reached out and touched her robe, rubbing the cloth between his fingers. He bent and sniffed the linen.
She tugged her hem from his grasp.
The other two Moabites chuckled.
Whaaak.
Eliab whipped the scoundrel’s hand. The sharp slap panicked the mule and it charged into the larger group of men. “Do not touch my sister. She is intended for another.” Eliab spoke in Hebrew followed by a Canaanite dialect.
Another Moabite clawed at her leg.
Naomi jerked backward so as not to be pulled from her mount. She kicked any offender who came close. Eliab continued to lash out with the reins.
“Wait.” A gray-haired Moabite shuffled toward their mule.
The toothless man and his fellow criminals halted their attack. The older Moabite, dressed in a dust-covered white robe, waddled closer, looking like an overstuffed sack of flour.
“My cousin erred in his ways. He did not mean to insult your sister.” The Moabite’s gaze crept over her body. “If…” He fisted a hunk of the mule’s mane and nearly grazed Naomi’s hand. “She is your sister?”
“Are you branding me a liar?” Eliab spoke as if he chewed leather.
She needed to ease the tension between these two puffed roosters, or her future, and Jael’s, would be in peril. At least Eliab and Isa served the same God and observed the same customs. She had calmed the tempers of her brothers many times. What had Cuzbi told her about bartering in the marketplace? Flattery gets you a thicker coin.
She cackled like a fortune teller. Was she mad? Almost. How many times could a woman be stolen in one night? This day, she would need all her skills of persuasion, for she would not let herself be carried off by lusting looters.
“You foolish man.” She infused her rebuke with an innocent’s charm and a concubine’s seduction. “What women do you know that dress as similar as my sister and me?” She indicated a wide-eyed Jael with a sweep of her hand. “My mother dyed these veils herself. Surely it is not so different in your country?” Cocking her head, she pursed her lips and waited for the elder to answer.
The gray-haired leader stepped closer. His dirty garment brushed her knee. “You almost have me convinced.” His attentive grin made her skin pimple. He was no idiot, for he knew Hebrew.
“Have you forgotten which side of the Jordan you are on?” Eliab addressed the half-dozen men crowded in the clearing. “This is the land of Ephraim.”
“Which you are leaving.” The toothless cousin shifted closer.
So they had not reached the land of Benjamin. Her own tribe ruled these rocks.
“We are on our way to Jericho.” Eliab’s arm pressed against her waist. His pulse pounded through her garment. In this moment, she would do whatever he asked because she needed his protection to remain pure. “My sister is betrothed to a Benjamite.”
“Are there any still living?” The elder Moabite cackled and waved in the direction of his thieves. “And what of my men? None of them will do?”
Not a one.
“Our God forbids it,” Isa said.
The Moabites looked as if they had forgotten about the boy.
“You do not worship the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.” Eliab addressed the bandits as if he and Isa had them outnumbered. “May our God strike me down if I give one sister of mine to a worshipper of Chemosh.”
“We do not need to wait for your god. We can strike you down.” The leader unsheathed a blade from his belt.
Naomi licked her lips. A plea for mercy stuck in her windpipe. Oh, Lord, spare us from these pagans. Do not send me into the land of a foreign god. Or into the bed of a foreign man.
“Our father will seek vengeance if his sons are slain and his daughters defiled. Do you desire a war with the tribes of Ephraim, Benjamin, and Reuben? They shall ride out in force.” Her voice grew hoarse as she tried to prevent a riot.
“Why should the tribes trouble themselves all because I want to lie with a beautiful woman?” The leader crooked his neck toward Jael. “Or two?”
Naomi clasped a hand over her mouth. Her brothers had never been foul-mouthed around her. How could this man speak filth in front of two women?
She shifted closer to Eliab. Her head bumped his chin.
Eliab eased backward. Was he going to spring from the mule? How could two Benjamites claim victory over this lot of scoundrels? She swept her hand in front of Eliab.
“Is that how your father raised you?” She tsked at the leader. “I am offended by your insult. I would have thought better of such a man.” Crossing her arms, she turned her face from the elderly bandit and shot a sideward glance toward Eliab. “Allow us to be on our way.”
Eliab gave her a brief nod.
“Or challenge my brother.”
“Choose your weapon.” Eliab leapt from the mule. He stood two heads taller than the sackcloth-draped Moabite. Eliab’s hand lingered on a satchel tied to his belt. Little did the pagans know there was a twisted rag in the bag and not a blade.
The leader stepped backward and his belly jiggled. “Why should I upset your sister? Come and sup with us. Then—” The leader took a visual inventory of his men. “You can go.”
Naomi had the feeling that “you” did not include her or Jael.
Veins ridged on Eliab’s arm. “We must leave—”
“And pray.” She slipped from the mule. “It is time for us to worship our God. But we will break bread together. Afterwards.” She smiled at the foul-mouthed leader as if he had given her a gold bracelet.
“By all means. Come with me.” The leader held out his hand.
“My family must face north toward Bethel. The house of our God.”
Eliab clutched her arm and motioned for Isa and Jael to join him. Naomi’s fingers tingled from his grip.
“In our tradition, where we pray is holy ground. It must not be defiled by idol worshippers.” She batted her lashes at the elder to soften her words, but the leader did not seem interested in her truth. He did, however, seem interested in her.
Jael held Naomi’s hand. Naomi gave a slight bow to their foes. “We won’t be long.”
Eliab selected a spot a fair distance from the Moabites. He faced the cliffs from which they had come. He knelt and indicated for Isa to be on his right and for Naomi to be on his left. Jael crouched next to Naomi.
Now she knew which way led to Bethel and to her home.
“Family, sing the Shema.” Eliab looked past her to Jael.
“I am a slinger, not a singer.” Isa’s growl rumbled from his throat.
Jael’s singing unfolded like a blossom, slow to start, but vigorous at the end. “Hear, O Israel. The Lord is our God. The Lord alone.”
Isa joined in the prayer.
“I will fight for you, Naomi.” Eliab’s claim kept rhythm with Isa’s notes. “You are my only hope for a future. But we are outnumbered. Without the element of surprise, we cannot win.”
“Selah.” She sang as if she were still praising God at the feast and not as a woman petitioning for her life.
“You must capture their attention.” Eli
ab’s gaze stayed upon her. He sang, “With all your heart.”
“With all my soul. Selah.” Her melody died down. “You did not see me at the feast. I am not a temptress.”
“You captivated their leader doing nothing but sitting on a mule. Now do it again. And use that snake charmer’s voice.” His baritone chorused the Shema again. “With all your might.”
She raised her hands toward heaven and then bowed with her face to the ground. “You want me to play a harlot.”
Eliab called out, “Shalom.” He cradled her face in his hands as he bent near her. “You can leave here with me or a Moabite. It’s your choice.”
“And what of Jael? Or the young man, Isa?” Could she abandon fellow Jews to be killed at the hands of their idol-kissing neighbors?
“Trust me, Naomi.” His gaze tore through her like a bronze-tipped arrow. “If you dance, there is a chance we all may survive.”
How could she refuse and leave Jael to a life of slavery? Or worse, to a life as a prostitute? Isa and Eliab would be tortured until they died. The blood of Jacob’s offspring would be on her conscience. Would God punish her for her cowardice? She had witnessed women waiting by the vineyards for the laborers and their workman’s wages. She had seen their vile mannerisms.
She would play the harlot to avoid being one.
“I will dance,” she whispered, the words lodging in her throat. “I will be a seductress.”
5
Naomi brushed the dust from her robe and faced Eliab. Glancing over his shoulder, she prayed scouts from Ephraim would swoop from the rocky hills and rescue her before she disgraced herself in front of these ruthless foreigners. No such blessing found her. “Where shall I begin my deception?”
“Stroll toward the leader. He cannot keep his gaze from you. Isa and I will sit near the mules.” Eliab crouched in front of Jael. “Stay at Naomi’s heels. Do not get separated. We cannot come back for you this time.”
Jael nodded and nestled closer to Naomi’s side.
The sun was not high, but bursts of light blurred Naomi’s vision. She closed her eyes. Tempting these scoundrels was her burden alone. No second chances waited.
“Be bold, Naomi. Do not hesitate, or they may become suspicious.” Eliab placed a hand on her shoulder. He indicated a spot where she should stand. A spot directly in front of the white-clad elder.
Naomi breathed deep. Even with plenty of fresh air, her heart drummed against her chest. She rubbed her palms together, but with the trembling in her fingers, she could not keep them joined. Oh, God, forgive me.
As she sauntered toward the loud-mouthed thieves, she swayed her hips and let her arms dangle with an occasional graze of her thigh. Jael followed a half-step from Naomi’s sandals.
Sitting in a semicircle, the Moabites observed their approach with gaping mouths full of meat. They ripped at their food like ravenous dogs, not waiting for prayers to be offered or for their guests to join them at the meal.
She strutted closer to the leader while Eliab and Isa positioned themselves behind the distracted Moabites and nearer to the mules.
“Your prayers are too long.” The leader bit into a plum. Purplish bits of fruit sprang from the pagan’s mouth while juice dripped into his scraggly beard. “I have missed your company.”
Her stomach swirled like a potter’s wheel. How could she pretend to care for such a foul-mouthed fool? If he stroked her body, she would vomit. A short distance from the crowd, she stopped to give herself room to escape and to give Eliab room to strike with his sling.
“I am famished.” She giggled and touched her breast, imitating the harlots that prowled after her brothers. “And my head covering is loose.”
Slipping the indigo cloth from her head, she fanned her hair to the side and drew her fingers slowly through her wavy locks. “Oh,” she gasped. “I am undone. Only my mother has seen me as such.”
A few men mimicked slurping sounds, yet their mouths were empty of food.
She shuddered. Her lips began to tremble. She pressed them together in a mock smile. Never again would she disgrace herself and her family in this manner. Definitely not later in a Benjamite’s bed.
The leader lunged forward and reached for her hem. “Come and share our mutton and fish.”
Naomi dodged his grasp. She flung her head covering to Jael and twirled in a circle as if to entertain. When she sidestepped another touch, her sandal caught her robe. Her shoulder bared briefly. “I am too clumsy.” She snorted as if she had drunk too much wine and righted her garment.
Whistling erupted in the clearing.
God, turn Your face from their lust.
“Sit with me, woman.” The leader clapped his hands. “We will undress each other.”
Naomi’s face flushed. What new trick could she use to stall this heathen?
She cast a glance toward Eliab and Isa. They were on their feet. Slings in the air. Her hands shook as she stroked her sleeves. “I can strip down for you.”
Please, Eliab. Now!
Eliab and Isa unleashed a barrage of stones into the circle of foreigners. The whizzz of rock passing close to Naomi’s ear sounded like a hissing pot.
The leader’s eyes flared. He slumped toward the ground. Blood spurted from a stone that sank into his skull, and immediately, his white tunic stained scarlet.
“Atta—” Before he could finish his warning, the toothless cousin’s head snapped backward. Isa’s rock jutted from his temple. The Moabite fell like a plank of cedar.
Threats and curses filled the enclosed clearing.
A high-pitched humming in Naomi’s head drowned out the chaos. She moved as if in a vision. Grabbing Jael by the wrist, she charged toward the mules to flee to safety.
Nearing the restless mounts, Naomi fell forward. Her forearms smacked the parched ground. A throbbing ache radiated through her chest. Her leg jerked. She twisted to one side. A heathen, sprawled on the ground, gripped her ankle. His hands slithered under her skirt.
Her body shook as if she had been doused with cold water, but she clenched her hand and aimed a furious punch at his head. “Get off.”
He caught her fist.
Jael screamed and kicked the offender in the jaw.
Naomi ripped free as the man shielded his face from Jael’s assault.
He sprang to his feet with a vengeance.
Jael attacked. Fast. Her foot landed below his belt. The man crumpled to his knees and cursed the gods.
“Bless you,” Naomi said as she took hold of Jael.
Before she knew what was happening, Eliab launched her onto a mount. “You must ride.” He lifted Jael snug to her back and slapped the mule’s rump. “Go.”
Naomi held Eliab in her sight for a moment until the mule lurched around a bend. Eliab had sacrificed his own safety. Her belly fluttered. Would she see him again? What would she do without him in this wilderness? Were there other Moabite bands roaming about that she would have to face alone?
She cast another glance behind Jael. No other donkey followed.
“Keep watch for them, Jael. We will head to higher ground. Toward a hideout.” Toward freedom from angry and desperate men.
“Are they dead?” Jael’s voice blew away in the breeze.
She fisted the reins. “Someone will find us.”
Will they, Lord? And who would they be?
This is not how the plan was supposed to end. She had no knowledge of this territory and no idea how to return to Shiloh. She had slept the latter part of last night in Eliab’s lap when he maneuvered the terrain. Retracing the path through the Moabite den was unthinkable. But all would be moot if they did not find water, for this mount had no provisions.
As the mule advanced farther into the lands of the tribe of Benjamin, sweat trickled down Naomi’s face. Jael had dropped Naomi’s head covering during the fight, and without the linen barrier, the sun scorched her scalp. Yesterday Naomi would have been pleased her indigo cloth left a clue to her whereabouts. Today she needed relief
from the heat. She patted the donkey’s slick coat and prayed they would find shelter fast.
Jael’s head lay heavy upon Naomi’s spine.
“We will rest soon and then I will search for a cistern. There has to be water nearby.” She hoped her declaration was not a lie.
After a while, Naomi spared the mule the weight of a second rider and walked. Thankfully, the height of the animal blocked some of the sun’s rays.
Ahead, an uneven path led into the hills. Naomi guided the mule, keeping the lead tight as the animal’s hooves scuffed over unearthed rock. Spying an overhang, she secured the donkey so it could recover in the shade. Jael withdrew and nestled by a boulder.
“Rest and I will go look for water. Grass has sprouted under some of the rocks. There must be a basin nearby.”
“If not?” Jael mumbled.
“I will catch a nursing goat and squirt its milk into your mouth.”
Jael’s cracked lips curved into a half-smile. “You will need me to help you wrestle it.”
“Like how you fought the Moabite?” Naomi could still feel the man’s fingers mauling her skin. She shook her head as if to remove the memory. “Did you face hardship in the fields?”
Jael nodded. “From some.”
“Well, we are not in the vineyards anymore.” Naomi raised her arms toward the sky. “We are lost in the lands of Benjamin.” She sighed at the unbelievable truth of her words and thumbed a smudge from Jael’s cheek.
She borrowed Jael’s head covering and went in search of something to drink. A pool had to be nearby. With brush and several paths into the hills, this would be the perfect place for water to collect. At least, she hoped that to be the truth.
Climbing over a landslide of rock, Naomi grasped a jut in the hillside and pulled herself up toward a plateau. Gazing at the rolling hills, her stomach hollowed like she was weightless and the wind could whisk her off her feet and down into the depths. She knelt and crawled closer to the edge, scanning the area she and Jael had crossed. No Eliab. No Isa. No one.
Kneeling in the dirt, she squinted at the sun. “I can’t do this alone.” Was God listening? She raised her sweat-soaked sleeves. “Show me the way home.”
Building Benjamin Page 3