Naomi rubbed her arm. A chill swept over her flesh. “I do not know where my brothers are buried. A mass grave holds their bodies and those who fell beside them.” Her breaths stuttered. “They live in my memories. Their smiles. Their laughter. Their love.”
Eliab stepped closer, but he did not touch her.
Naomi stroked the mule’s mane. With every pat, she collected her emotions. She didn’t want to give Eliab a reason to comfort her. “I am surprised you did not escape to Rimmon. Is that not where the survivors fled?”
“I left Ashbanel and my father to lead the remnant to Rimmon. Isa went with them. He was never on the cliffs.” Eliab gazed upon her as if their argument still lingered in his thoughts.
“I am glad.” Her voice steadied as the intimate tales of family faded.
He nodded as if he understood. “I returned to Gibeah with a few select slingers.”
“How were you not slain?”
“What fools travel into a slaughter?” Eliab kicked at the ground. “Besides, the rubble was at a smolder. There was nothing left to glean. But remains needed to be buried.” He surveyed the darkening sky. “That is what I did before rejoining the others.”
“Why are you telling me all of this? Aren’t you afraid it will overwhelm your soul?” Tears threatened to dampen her cheeks.
Eliab braced himself against the mule. “I’m scared if I don’t remember, I will forget.” He rubbed his eyes. His complexion mottled from the force of his fists. “I want their memory with me forever.”
She patted his shoulder, not letting her hand linger, only sharing the pain of loss. “We will remember. In time, I think, God will heal our sorrow. Maybe in time, you will forget the devastation.”
He stilled her hand and held it. “I wish I was as certain as you.”
At the first stroke of his thumb, she pulled her hand back and rested it in her lap. They shared a heritage, not love.
Eliab took control of the reins and led the mule to the path where Isa and Jael had parted their company.
“It is not far.” He cast a glance her direction. “Rest while you can.”
Naomi’s heartbeat rallied anew. What was to come tonight? Was he not as worn as she? She slipped to the ground, careful that the mule’s hooves did not crush her feet. “Why should this animal carry my burden anymore? I am accustomed to the loom and picking grapes. I will join you in a walk.” And she would plead weariness later.
Eliab slowed his pace. “I was not in Gibeah when the Levite’s wife died. I had taken livestock to Jericho. I know the laws of God and what He expects from His people, and I would have fought against the corruption. I am innocent of the woman’s blood.”
She wanted to believe Eliab was just. He had protected her in the grove from Gera and again when the Moabites pawed at her clothing. At this moment, she did not see a way to be rid of him, and with the unknown awaiting her in East Gibeah, she needed an ally.
“Was your brother in the city square?” She worried for Cuzbi.
“Half-brother.” He coiled the excess rein around his hand. “Ashbanel was not with the crowd of frenzied men.”
“I am glad, for I care about my friend and her well-being.” Her chin rose as she gave Eliab her best brother-chastising frown.
Eliab regarded her with a lighthearted grin. “I have no doubt you do.”
Naomi stood a bit taller. She would take Eliab’s comment as praise of her compassion. Had he not spoken of his sisters with a kindhearted tenderness? Perhaps the kindred spirit they shared would allow her to reason with him later.
“What is your brother’s name?” Eliab grew serious.
“My brother?” She could not hide the surprise in her voice.
“The one who will come for you. I must know who I am to petition. Or fight.”
She bristled. How quickly his emotions turned to business and bloodshed.
“You seem certain of my brother’s arrival.” She wished she could be so steadfast.
Eliab’s stare was as sharp as a flint knife. “If someone snatched my sisters, I would hunt them down like a froth-mouthed animal.”
“Nadab.” The name stuck in Naomi’s throat. “Nadab is the only sibling I have left.”
“Then I hope he is evenhanded.” Eliab trudged on, not realizing the heaviness he had placed upon her heart.
“And your sisters? How were they named?” Would Eliab reveal the names of the dead? A shiver traveled down her back. Had she gone too far in effort to find peace, a bond, some respect?
The shuffling of hooves answered her inquest.
“Dorcas and Deborah.” Eliab breathed their names with a reverence that struck her speechless. “My mother carried another child when she was slain.”
Naomi’s heart sank deep in her chest. What could be said to heal such a wound? Enough words had been spoken. Enough words about Gibeah and war. Find me, Nadab. Find me soon.
As twilight fell, a structure came into view. Eliab’s pace quickened. She stumbled in trying to keep up with his long strides. At least she would have shelter this night. If Berek was a lawful leader, he would respect her heritage and see she was treated with dignity. She needed a reprieve until Ephraim came for justice.
The scrape of Eliab’s sandals across barren soil reminded Naomi of Cuzbi’s boasts of rich lands and much wealth on the first night of their capture. These fields held no crops or livestock. Not a servant was in sight to fodder the mule or wash their feet. Whatever Ashbanel told Cuzbi about the riches of Berek had all been a lie. Poor Cuzbi. She would find her friend and console her.
Eliab tied the mule to a fence outside a courtyard. The splintered wood was held together with strips of leather. Even in a time of mourning, Eliab and his family had built a house and a stable with an upper room. Divots in the stone contained soot from the fires of condemnation. The windows looked like empty sockets without an eyeball or lash, without linen or drape.
Braying began. Eliab stroked the mule’s muzzle. “Now he complains. When he is home.”
The door to the house burst open. Ashbanel stomped across the courtyard.
Naomi stepped backward, using Eliab as a shield. She had already been questioned by Ashbanel. And once was enough.
“Where have you been?” Ashbanel prodded Eliab in the chest. “Father is distraught. You did not arrive with the group.”
Pivoting, Eliab avoided another poke. “I was detained. We met up with some Moabites—”
“Detained.”
Ashbanel’s roar sent a cold stream through Naomi’s veins.
“The only thing that should have detained you shouldn’t have taken very long.” Ashbanel scrutinized her like he was stitching together the seams at every curve of her body.
She shuddered and crossed her arms over her breasts.
“I took charge of Isa.” Eliab growled his excuse. “You left him behind.”
“And Jael,” Naomi added in Eliab’s defense.
Ashbanel lunged around Eliab and grabbed Naomi’s wrist, tugging her forward.
“You dare to address an elder of Benjamin without a bow?”
Her mouth parched. She dangled from Ashbanel’s grasp as a slaughtered goat hung to bleed.
Eliab stepped nose to nose with his brother. “She will bow. She is weary and misspoke.” His rebuff held enough remorse to spare her a strike and gain her release from Ashbanel’s clutches.
Naomi crouched to the ground. She clenched her fists into her lap. Oh, how she wanted to lash out at this imposter. What elder robs his fellow Israelites of their daughters in the dark of night? She stayed low until she felt a hand upon her back. Eliab lifted her to her feet as if she were crafted of fine alabaster.
“Shalom,” she whispered. She retreated to Eliab’s side and did not cower from Ashbanel’s scowl.
“Naomi.” The shriek came from the courtyard. Cuzbi dashed toward her, arms open, her robe billowing.
Naomi scrambled toward Cuzbi and embraced her friend. “Praise God you are safe.” Naomi
’s resolve strengthened from the familiar hug. “Stay strong, sister.” Naomi spoke softly. “Our rescuers will be here soon. Your father will have scouts all over Gibeah.”
“My father.” Cuzbi giggled. The faintest odor of sour wine filled the air between their faces. “Silly Naomi, why would I want my father to find me?” Cuzbi swaggered in an attempt to talk into Naomi’s ear. “I am no longer a virgin.” Her confession, emboldened by too much drink, carried into the night.
“This cannot be.” Naomi’s knee joints threatened to give way. Had Cuzbi turned her back on the tribe of Ephraim? “He filled you with wine.”
“Not the second time.” Cuzbi’s voice reverberated through the courtyard. “Or the third.”
Ashbanel slapped Eliab on the back. “The line of Berek shall have an heir.”
Eliab stroked his jaw, disguising a grin, but Naomi could not tell if it was a smirk of anticipation for what was to come tonight or amusement at Cuzbi’s carefree demeanor.
Naomi’s skin tingled as if Eliab had reached out and brushed her flesh with his fingertips. Her pulse hammered a warning through her temples.
You. Are. Next.
8
Naomi stood anchored to the dirt, desperate and alone like a leper banished from the walls of a city. Where were her tribesmen? She would need all her wits to keep her virginity intact until they arrived. Would Eliab be a man of reason?
Cuzbi turned and staggered toward the open door.
She grasped Cuzbi’s shoulder to help her stay upright. No gold glimmered on her friend’s hand. Cuzbi’s fingers were bare. Heat flashed through Naomi’s body. “Where are your rings and headband?”
“My husband is keeping them safe.” Cuzbi slurred as if her tongue had thickened. “We stopped in Op…opra…rah to barter.”
Naomi supported Cuzbi’s weight and propelled her toward the house of Berek and away from Ashbanel. “Don’t you see? Ashbanel has deceived you.” Naomi kept her voice low, but it rasped with desperation. “There is no wealth here. No fertile fields. No servants. We will serve these Benjamites as slaves or worse.”
Cuzbi’s forehead ridged. “My husband will succeed Berek. He is the eldest son. There is plenty of land here.” Cuzbi flung her arm. “You know how to work the soil and there is a shepherd boy living nearby to tend the flocks.”
“What will you tell your father when he comes?” She steadied Cuzbi’s sway. How could she get her friend to see the barrenness?
“Unlike Heriah, my father does not need to sell me to prosper. Can’t your husband scrounge something of value to satisfy your family? I am not waiting any longer to be someone’s wife.” Cuzbi swiped her tongue across her teeth. “You are a laborer’s daughter. Uncover that man’s feet and slip into his bed. For what man in Ephraim will offer for you since you have nestled in a Benjamite’s lap?”
Naomi’s cheeks flamed. These were not the words of her friend. The wine spoke this gibberish. “I will not leap into Eliab’s bed.”
“Why not? He is handsome. At least here you will own the land instead of toil upon it,” Cuzbi said, brushing her off like a loose thread.
Naomi trembled with rage. “And what of their evil ways?”
“The war is over, Naomi. Look to the future and not the past.” Cuzbi grabbed the faded wood of the doorway and shuffled inside the house.
“And how many brothers did you lose in battle?” Naomi knew the answer. None.
An elderly man dodged by Cuzbi and rushed from the doorway without a glance or a nod in Naomi’s direction. His beard was as full as his turban. This had to be Berek, Eliab’s father and renegade elder of Benjamin.
“Eliab, my son, you have returned.”
None other.
Berek pressed his hands to Eliab’s face and stared as if he had not seen his son in months.
After a moment, Eliab withdrew from his father. “I am home with a wife.” Eliab hurried toward Naomi.
Should she fall at Berek’s feet and beg for a release? She leaned against the doorpost, contemplating her plea. Her countenance fell. If Berek was set upon a grandchild from her womb, why would he honor a request for mercy?
“This is Naomi bat Heriah of Shiloh.” Eliab strode forward and pried her from the doorframe. He escorted her to his father as if she were a gift.
Naomi lowered to one knee, but the mention of her father’s name caused her chest to constrict with pride and grief. A longing for her family built behind her eyes. She stifled her shuddered breaths, vying for Berek’s favor.
“Welcome, my daughter. Shalom. We shall celebrate your arrival. God has returned my sons to me and provided wives to produce many children.” Berek motioned for her to rise. His gaze swept from the crown of her head to her dusty toes.
“Shalom—” Her throat seized. She could not bring herself to call this man father. Nodding, she gave a brief smile. How could this elder thank the God whose laws he refused to uphold among his people? Had Berek not allowed idol worship in Gibeah? She drew closer to Eliab.
“We will celebrate tomorrow,” Eliab said. “Our trip was delayed by Moabite thieves.”
“Even our enemies come to pick at the remains of Benjamin.” Berek urged them inside the house. “Surely a drink is needed after such a journey.”
Wine would not touch her lips until she was safely in Shiloh. Then she would celebrate.
“Perhaps one.” Eliab halted inside the doorway.
She clasped her hands and inspected Eliab’s home. The furnishings fared no better than a prisoner’s cell. Mats adorned the floor, plain mats, with no ornate weave. A few uncarved chairs angled in the corner. How could Cuzbi not see the poverty before her? The tribes of Israel had devastated Benjamin. Their own people were responsible for this barrenness.
“Wash your feet and join us.” Ashbanel reclined at a table littered with wooden plates and cups. Cuzbi clung to Ashbanel as a bride enjoying her weeklong marriage festivities.
Berek joined his eldest son at the table and, tipping his drink, seemed to offer a toast to her arrival.
Eliab cleared his throat. He sat by the door near the washbasin.
Naomi beheld the black night through the open doorway. What lay beyond, should she choose to escape? Did Gera linger nearby? Or another foreigner in need of a slave or wife? Her lips quivered. I want to be in Shiloh, not East Gibeah.
“Naomi.” Eliab’s voice shattered her trance. He held up a cloth. “Wash me and I will wash you.”
Kneeling, she dipped the rag and listened to the familiar slosh of water. Living in a home full of field workers, she had wiped clean many a foot, but she feared Eliab desired more than a foot washing. Would her touch kindle a roaring lust? Her insides fluttered as though a bat were caged inside her body. I am not ready. I need time.
Her father may not have owned a booth in the market, but she had learned how to barter with her brothers. If they returned home too tired or drunk to finish their work, she would offer to do their chores for a price. Perhaps with all her trading skills, she could persuade Eliab to delay their marriage bed.
She took extra care to massage in between each one of Eliab’s toes. He sank into the chair with his eyes lidded as she swept the cloth around his heel and along the length of his arch. His relaxed state increased her boldness. Her stomach squirmed, for she knew the measure of what she was about to ask.
“If I allow you to clean my feet,” she whispered, thumbs gently caressing his skin, “will you keep me clean until the Sabbath?”
Eliab’s eyes opened slowly as if he was deciphering her request. No humor graced his expression. “That is three and a half days.”
“In a lifetime, it is but a blink.” She dried his feet and avoided his scrutinizing stare.
He removed the rag from her hands. “You’re letting me touch you now.”
As she sat, mischief awakened in his eyes. Her heart skittered as he grasped her foot. Was he in agreement to her request? She wrapped her hem around her legs so only her feet dipped in the water. �
�You may wash below my ankles.”
Ashbanel scowled as Eliab lowered himself to the floor in front of her.
Eliab stroked her arches with enough power to rattle her composure. She clung to the chair and stifled a reprimand. Her stomach rolled like a boat tossed on a stormy sea.
She bent in close. “That is all I need.” She gritted her teeth so as not to cry out from the tickle.
He put his face next to her ear. His stubble bristled against her cheek. “It is not all I need if I am going to wait for you.”
Her breaths hitched as he caressed her toes. Leaning forward and placing a hand on each side of his face, she drew him close.
“Please stop. My insides are jumping like a flea. Say you’ll agree to wait, for I am an orphan with no one to petition in my favor. I have already shamed myself once this day. Do not make me dishonor myself again.”
“Hurry up,” Ashbanel grunted. “Was the grove not enough for you?”
Eliab flinched and turned toward his brother. “What do you know of the grove?” His tone was bitter as a wild herb.
Naomi stiffened. Had she offended Eliab with her request? Certainly he would keep the lie of their false union.
“Gera ranted to me about your betrayal.” Ashbanel swallowed a mouthful of bread. “He believes you stole his dancer. He wanted his grievance heard by an elder.”
Naomi started a defense, but then remembered Ashbanel’s harsh reprimand upon their arrival.
Eliab handed her a towel and crossed to the table in a few strides. Hands on his hips, Eliab dwarfed the room. “I did not take Naomi from Gera. She came to me. Does the Lord not answer the prayers of the downtrodden?”
“I believe He does.” Berek motioned for his son to sit by his side. “The girl is yours, Eliab. Gera is jealous. God did not see fit to provide a wife for him.”
Ashbanel popped an olive in his mouth. “From the look of it, he has spouted lies that are of no consequence. The man brings up too much of the past.” Ashbanel gave Eliab a knowing look.
Building Benjamin Page 5