She studied the cliffs for a sign. Anything to point her in the direction she should travel. Heat waves rose from the soil like formations of soldiers streaming into battle. Her eyes burned from the sunlight’s glare. All of Israel was the color of sun-bleached bones.
She closed her eyes. The sting of her split lips overwhelmed her senses. Could she even mouth another prayer?
Someone seized her arm. She jerked.
A flash of fright shivered through her body. She screamed, and her hands formed claws, ready for another struggle.
“Naomi.”
Eliab towered over her.
She stood and collapsed into him. Her knees threatened to give way. “Oh, Eliab, where have you been?” She didn’t want to need Eliab, but in truth, she did need him.
“There are secret routes in the hills. We knew we could catch up to you, so we didn’t chance the flatlands. We did not want to be followed.” He wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her flush to his body. “So, you are glad to see me?”
She stiffened. She knew she should protest his embrace, but his hold kept her upright.
“Do you have a waterskin?” she mumbled into his tunic.
“Two.”
“Then I am glad to see you.”
6
Naomi withdrew from Eliab’s embrace. Solitude surrounded them on the plateau, and she did not want Eliab to believe her to be as bold as she had portrayed to the Moabites. She tried to excuse her actions, but her mouth was as dry as sunbaked sand. She coughed and clutched at her throat.
Eliab grasped her hand. “Come with me and I will get you a drink. When you are refreshed, we will continue toward Gibeah.”
Naomi tore free from Eliab’s grasp. She stumbled from the force of her retreat. Her brothers had died bringing judgment upon that city. How could she tromp across their graves? “I will not go to Gibeah.”
She darted toward the path she had climbed. At the slope of the incline, gravel gave way beneath her sandals. Careening downward, a scream warbled in her throat. She frantically clawed at the side of the cliff for balance.
“Naomi!” Eliab scaled the terrain and encircled her waist with one arm. He cinched her to his side.
She twisted to break his hold. Field work kept her sure-footed enough to maneuver the rest of the stable terrain. She dashed toward the path. Blood seeped from her lips and into her mouth, bringing the sizzle of salt and the taste of clutched coins.
“I will not dishonor my family by setting foot in that city.”
Eliab trekked her direction. “My home is on the outskirts.”
“Your home is there. Not mine.”
“We need only pass by Gibeah. I live to the east.” Eliab’s voice grew raspy as he propelled her through the clearing. “We will not be long.”
Naomi freed herself from Eliab’s hold. Her relief at his escape from the Moabites waned. “A breath is too long in that tomb.”
Isa strode toward Eliab. “Cease your woman’s complaints. We must be on our way soon.”
Naomi could not endure much more humiliation. She had been tied like a sheep for a shearing. She had sidled up to heathens like a brazen harlot. She had been driven into the desert without water. Now she was to traipse across cursed ground? She refused to gaze upon the remains of a condemned city.
“Take him on your donkey to Gibeah.” She jabbed a finger at Isa. “Jael and I will travel a different path to your home.”
Isa shook his head. “You have already slowed us down. We are behind the others. I will not stop.” He pitched a pebble off the hill with his left hand.
Naomi chilled at the sight of Isa’s precision. “You are a left-handed slinger.” The accusation rushed from her lips in one breath.
“Is there any other kind?” Isa grinned as if her observation were a compliment of his prowess.
“My brothers fought alongside the tribe of Judah in the first days of battle.”
“Then they died of stupidity, for slingers were stationed in the canyons from which we came.” Another stone flew from Isa’s hand.
Naomi collapsed on a rock in the shade. Her face prickled from the heat, but her heart hollowed at Isa’s revelation. “What did you make me do?” She cast a glance at Eliab. “I danced where my brothers died?”
“Isa.” Eliab lunged forward and slapped a rock from the young man’s hand. “Watch your tongue.”
Isa brushed the dust from his hands as if he were contemplating some retaliation. None came. He stalked toward Jael and then perched beside her on a ridge of rock. “The truth needs to be told. I will not hide it.”
“The truth is you left-handed slingers massacred righteous men. Were you in those cliffs? Did you slay my brothers? Your brothers from Ephraim?” Naomi jumped to her feet. Her throat burned hot as a torch. She squinted up at Eliab. Sunlight blinded her. “I danced like a harlot where my brothers drew their last breaths. I’m as vile as a Benjamite.”
Eliab spat on the ground and stomped toward the mules.
“Could my brothers hear my giggles in heaven, Eliab?” Tears filled her eyes. She hated being stolen. She hated being away from her family. She hated being used as a decoy.
Eliab thrust a waterskin at her feet. He did not untie the sinew strap. “Do only Benjamites break the laws of Moses? You are misled if you believe destroying Gibeah was just.”
She jerked the skin upward, bumping Eliab’s leg.
“All the tribes sent men to fight. Your elders refused to punish murderers. Why don’t you ask your brother and father to explain why they did not turn over criminals to the tribal council? Even the prophet spoke against you.” She unknotted the tie without his assistance.
“The tribe of Benjamin can take care of its own grievances. Are the other tribes blameless before God? When you danced at your feast, did the men of Ephraim not lust after virgins?” He crossed his arms.
“I would not know, as your slingers raided the festival before our sinful men arrived.”
“You danced well enough to entice Gera. And those heathens.”
Naomi took a swig of water and almost choked. Air stayed trapped in her lungs. She coughed and sputtered. Clutching the waterskin, she took a sip to calm her windpipe.
Eliab reached for her, but she withdrew from him.
“If I am so shameful,” Naomi rasped, “leave me this provision and be on your way.”
He ripped the skin from her hands. “I cannot.”
“No, Naomi.” The cry came from where Jael hid. “Abide with me.”
Isa did his best to hush Jael.
Naomi’s stomach cramped as if rope bound it—a rope pulling her toward Gibeah and all its tragedy. She bent at the waist and waited for the pain to pass.
“What about the Levite?” Eliab’s words were spoken so softly the breeze could have swept them away with the dust. “He sent his wife into the city square to face a mob of men. Does he not bear any blame? My tribesmen summoned the Levite. Not his woman. Her own husband pushed her into the square. No vengeance was sought against the Levite or his family. Only the tribe of Benjamin.”
“My brothers died an honorable death. Your tribal elders refused to hand over the murderers of the Levite’s wife. Can a man not travel through the lands of Benjamin without sacrificing his betrothed?” Her throat spasmed as if Eliab had gagged her again.
He gave her back the waterskin. “Too many have suffered for the sins of a few. But know this: I would never send my wife to face a mob who had summoned me. I could not sleep the night while she was abused. It still grieves me that I sent you to distract those Moabites.”
She drank slow, content to focus on the animal’s hide in her hands and not the man before her. “Do not expect me to pity you or myself. I am full up with enough grief over my brothers.”
“And I grieve as well.” Eliab held out his hand. It hung there in the air, palm up and open. The wind scattered his dark hair across his face, yet he did not flinch. “I buried my mother, my sisters, and my younger brother. W
ith you, I can start a family and carry on for them. The tribe of Benjamin will begin anew.”
She wanted a family, but this was not how her father had planned for her to be given away in marriage. No celebration occurred. No bride price changed hands. If she joined with a Benjamite, her father would disown her.
“I need you, Naomi.” Eliab’s plea crackled as if he were the one who had choked on the water.
She closed her eyes, unable to look upon Eliab’s face. She smothered compassion and stoked the embers of defiance. “I will not be a traitor to my family.”
“I would be no better than that coward of a Levite if I leave you here in this wilderness alone and unprotected.” Eliab’s hand dropped to his side. He opened his satchel and pulled out her indigo head covering, laying it in her lap. “You left this in the struggle. I think you will have need of it.”
At least there was no trace of her among the bodies. Neither was there any trace of her to follow.
She handed him the waterskin and smoothed the cloth against her leg. Fortunately, no blood marred its color.
Gibeah was the last place she wanted to be, but it was the first place the men of Shiloh would scout. She clenched her fists, for if she did not go with Eliab willingly, he would bind her and drag her like a prisoner to the ruins of his city. Her only comfort was that Cuzbi would be with Ashbanel in the household of Berek, east of the city. And Cuzbi’s father had gold aplenty to jingle in front of the tribal elders for justice.
“I will travel with you, Eliab, but I will not gaze upon the ruins of Gibeah. My eyes will remain shut.” She shouldered past him toward the mules.
Jael hugged Naomi’s waist so hard, she almost regurgitated the water she had drunk. Isa beckoned Jael to his mule.
Talk did not babble from Eliab’s lips as they traveled south. Perhaps he had said too much already. They had both spoken harsh words and ripped open the tombs of the dead.
Isa forked left on a trail outside of Gibeah.
“Where are they going?” Naomi readied herself to jump from her mule and trail after them.
Eliab steadied her arm. “Isa’s dwelling is near my father’s house. Your companion will be safe there.”
“Shalom, sister,” she called to her friend. “I will see you soon.” Naomi waited for Jael’s wide-eyed nod.
She and Eliab carried on a different way, cresting a wide hill.
“The city is up ahead.”
Naomi closed her eyes. She gathered the donkey’s mane and held tight as their mount ambled downward.
“Why do we have to go near Gibeah when the others have taken a different path?”
Eliab pulled her flat to his chest as the mule struggled against the steepness of the hill. “I want you to understand why we were in your vineyards.”
“But you were not in the vineyard.” She did not move an inch to the right nor to the left as Eliab’s arm rested beneath her breasts. His body warmed her like a brick oven, but she took no pleasure in his closeness. Distract him. “You were in the grove. I remember.” Her breaths shallowed as they swayed side to side. “Hiding behind a tree.”
“And look what I found.” His voice rose to the clouds as they hit the flatland at full stride. He could not have sounded more pleased. “You came right to me.”
She grabbed his arm for balance and lowered it over her belly button. The weight caused her stomach to jump as if fish spawned inside. She hunched her back so his hold would not be as intimate. “Our meeting was not as it should have been.” Her reply was but a wisp. “My father had no say.” Closing her eyes, she lost herself in the blackness behind her eyelids and tried to erase the sensation of Eliab’s possessive embrace. The ploy almost worked. Almost.
Laughter split the silence. Not Eliab’s. Or a man’s.
Women were giggling. Naomi hadn’t heard such glee since the festival. Were there other women from Shiloh here? If there were, their brothers would seek them out. But surely a girl from Shiloh would not be celebrating her capture with laughter.
Naomi couldn’t help herself. She opened her eyes.
Oh, Eliab, you are a liar.
7
The gleeful women carried jars on their shoulders and not on their hips, for their bellies were round and full with Benjamite babies. These women were not from Shiloh. They had been in Gibeah awhile. Their navels protruded like a single grape smothered with cloth. Naomi shuddered to think that soon she could be like them, for Eliab was sure to offer her his bed, and she would do everything in her power to stay out of it. Spare me, Lord. She desired a child conceived in love, not anger.
“These women are not from the festival.” She glowered at Eliab. “You lied to me. It seems the tribe of Benjamin is already growing. How did this happen?”
“What do I need to explain?” Eliab’s brow furrowed.
“Where did these women come from if every woman and every child from your tribe was put to the sword?” Naomi clasped her hands to still their trembling. Was the tribe of Benjamin deceiving everyone? “What is this trickery?”
Eliab let the reins rest on the mule’s neck. He braced his hands on his hips.
“These girls are from Jabesh-Gilead. Their tribe did not assemble to pass judgment on us. The council elders gave us their virgins, but there weren’t enough for all of us who survived the war. That is why a few elders told us of your festival in Shiloh.”
“You stole me from Shiloh at an elder’s urging?” Her voice squeaked with outrage. How could the elders have betrayed the daughters of Ephraim? Surely her father was unaware of the raid. No word had passed through the streets of Shiloh, or Cuzbi would have heard the gossip.
“I took a daughter, not a son.” He spoke like he selected spices in the marketplace. “If you are of an age to dance, you are of an age to be chosen by a man.”
“Not a Benjamite!” Her skin burned hotter than a cooking fire.
Eliab dismounted. “What were we to do when all the tribes vowed not to give their daughters to the lowly Benjamites?” His mocking tone grew harsh. She bristled at his insult to his own people. Back and forth he paced. “No man in Ephraim broke his oath to the elders, or to God. No one gave you to me. That is why our raid was in secret.” He strode toward her as if he would plow straight through the mule. His feet halted in front of where she sat, and he held out his hand. “Get down and walk with me.”
Was he in his right mind? He talked of her capture as if it did her father a favor and then asked her to accompany him using the voice of a suitor.
“You are mad.” She shimmied forward on the mule and farther from his reach.
“I’m mad? If you scoot any higher on that mule, you will ride on its neck.” He chuckled, softly at first and then louder as if joining in the revelry of the mothers-to-be.
With each boisterous outburst from Eliab, the hair on her arms rose higher. Did the encounter with the Moabites leave him unbalanced?
The women of Jabesh-Gilead hesitated and looked toward Eliab. They acknowledged him with a tilt of the head and continued on their journey into a wasteland of charred rubble. Children did not play in the streets. No livestock grazed nearby. No teasing, nor braying, nor snorting shattered the eerie calmness. All emotion drained from her body and left her empty like the husk of a katydid.
God, why am I here?
“Did you pay for the women or steal them? And what of the families of these girls?”
Eliab shielded his eyes and regarded the ruins. “Dead.” The word echoed over Gibeah’s crumbling walls. “They have no family to seek revenge. Or money.” His gaze met hers. “Their tribe was punished for not assembling and listening to the charges against Benjamin. With no man alive to give a daughter in marriage, the oath remains intact.”
“No wives for Benjamites.” She mumbled her understanding. “Unless you steal them.”
Eliab splayed his arms wide in front of his birthplace. “Am I to survive a massacre and die without a woman and without an heir? Was all this lawful for the life of on
e woman?”
Naomi positioned the mule so she did not gape at the ruins of Gibeah. She did not want to picture the aftermath of battle. A battle where women and children bore the brunt of a righteous wrath.
“I am no elder.” Her voice strained, but she spoke loud enough for Eliab to hear her answer. “I have to trust the leaders’ decision and the decision of my brothers to fight against Benjamin.”
“The tribes obeyed the council’s command. But every day I am haunted by their wisdom.” He paused and indicated a spot in the distance. “I lived west. Beyond that tower of stones. Where the fire pit smokes. Ashbanel and his wife and son lived on the other side of the street.” Eliab gave directions as though he were describing a route to a traveler, and not where his family had perished.
What did he expect from her? To survey his homestead? The last resting place of his siblings? She knew the pain of losing loved ones. Pressed down with grief was her heart. She averted her eyes.
Silence fell between them.
“Ahh. Do you smell the figs boiling?” Eliab annoyed her with his loud inhales.
Naomi’s stomach gurgled from the citrus-sweet scent. She could not remember the last time she had eaten, but Eliab’s banter caused a different churning. A churning of worry. Was this place haunting him?
“My mother made the best paste. My sisters would try to assist her, but they ate more than they prepared.” Eliab reminisced as if she knew his kin. “When I came home from the fields, my sisters would run and shout my name. I would pick one up in each arm and lift them into the air. They screeched so loud my mother would chastise me. I believe she thought I would drop one of them. But I never would. And I never did.”
Naomi’s eyes pooled with tears. If only he realized that she was one of those little girls, but she’d run to her own brothers in a vineyard. “My brothers did the same.”
Eliab did not acknowledge her confession. He stationed himself between her and the ruins, talking as if in a trance. “In the morning, my brother Joshua would follow me out to the flocks to relieve Isa. Everything I did, he imitated. From the carvings on my staff, to the clicks from my mouth. Never did he shadow Ashbanel. Only me.” Eliab sniffed and swiped at his cheek. “I will never forget the image of my family burning among the boulders of Gibeah.”
Building Benjamin Page 4