Eliab called for her to stop.
With fists clamped on the reins, she steadied the mule long enough for Eliab to slip from his harness. Her arms throbbed in a fast rhythm from the pulling.
When the mule calmed, she secured it and ran to Eliab’s prone body. She turned him over so he rested in her lap, and she patted his cheek until his gaze met hers.
“For a moment,” he murmured, “I thought I was in Abraham’s bosom.”
“Abraham knows I am a stranger to these hills. He sent you back to lead me home.” She removed her head covering and tore a strip to bandage his bloody forehead.
He winced as she knotted the cloth. “You did not leave me?”
“I am no murderer. I would like to rest with our forefathers when my time here is done.”
“Is that all?” His stare penetrated her being.
She closed her eyes, not wanting to fall into his hopeful gaze. What did he want her to say? That she rescued him because she cared for him? Because of love? How could she put into words the bond causing her to stay and rescue him? “Is saving your life not enough?” She shook her head. Forcing a smile to comfort him, she swept blood away from his eye and helped lift him to his feet. “Come. We must get you home so I can tend to these gashes.”
“You will have plenty of washing to do. There is not a part of me that has not been crushed.” He stumbled toward his mule and cursed as he attempted to pull himself onto his mount.
“What is wrong with your arm?”
“I do not believe it is broken, but it has lost strength. At least you do not have to worry about me breaking our vow tonight.”
“Get on that mule before I ask the land to swallow you again.” She pushed him with all her strength until he sat upright on his ride. Worry about their arrangement had vanished from her mind the moment the avalanche occurred. She was not wringing her hands over where she would sleep. Not at the moment anyway.
Naomi’s countenance plummeted when she saw the ewe, eyes open, watching her as she prepared to leave. She grabbed the waterskin and rushed to where the sheep lay. “I cannot manage you both.” She cast a glance at Eliab, slumped over the mule’s neck. Tears strained against Naomi’s eyes as she gave the mother a drink. “I am sorry I offered you hope, for now I cannot give it.” She stroked the ewe for the last time. “Shalom, mother. May God show you His mercy in death as in life.”
The ewe’s eyes shut as if she was resigned to her fate. Naomi’s heart became a rock in her flesh. How much more could she bear? She pushed all emotion deep inside her chest to the place where she stored the grief of her brothers’ passing, the loss of her mother’s touch, and the fear of remaining apart from her family forever.
She rushed toward Eliab and rubbed his leg to keep him from teetering off his ride. Tethering the mules together, her fingers fumbled the last knot. She would not look at her ewe again.
“I will carry her. She is your gift.” The regret in Eliab’s voice caused her throat to seize.
“You are barely able to keep yourself upright, let alone manage livestock with one limp arm. All I ask is that you get us to East Gibeah.” She sat behind him and kicked the mule, not wanting to dwell on their distress.
The afternoon sun beat down upon her back as if her bones were kindling. Shielding Eliab from the glare as much as she could, she pressed her arms into his sides to keep him awake. Her scheme to keep their bodies apart had been abandoned. Her drenched robe pressed upon Eliab’s body. Heat radiated from his skin and awakened a sensation inside of her that was not disagreeable and far less scary than it had been lying in his bed.
She cast her gaze upon the ground, away from their intertwined bodies, and spied a grape among the pebbles. Isa. They were on the correct path and near level ground.
“We are not far from your home.” Relief simmered in her statement.
Eliab arched his back. The thread of separation between them cooled her like a dip in the river.
“You doubted me?” he said. “I can do these trails by memory.”
“Then they are all yours, for I do not care to remember them.”
The mules trotted with vigor when they reached open country. Naomi relaxed, knowing the inclines and steep slopes were behind them.
Riders approached.
“Your family has come to find us.” She adjusted her posture, contemplating what to say if questioned about the wounds.
Eliab straightened. “That is not my father, nor my brother.”
Her blood chilled as she recognized the wide body on the lead mule. It had to be Gera.
And that perverse man was not alone.
13
Naomi had to get Eliab to East Gibeah, a place where they would both be safe. She steered the mule away from Gera and the band of men riding in his wake. With Eliab’s wounds, he could not defend himself, nor her, in a dispute. She tightened her hold on the reins. If anyone came too close, she would lash out. Not one finger would she allow to touch her. Not without injury. She leaned into Eliab’s back. He had been her protector, and she would make sure he survived this encounter.
Gera changed direction to block their path. Could their journey get any worse? What had she done to deserve this torment? If God did answer her, the thrum of her heartbeat would drown Him out.
“Do not dismount from this mule,” Eliab cautioned. “Remember the Moabites. You have an advantage with height when you strike.”
“I remember.” She wished she could curl up and hide. Fly away to a safe place. A familiar place. And flee this wilderness of Benjamin.
Gera halted a few yards away. The men riding with him flanked his sides, forming a battle line.
Eliab grabbed the reins. “I will not leave you. I will be dead before I let Gera take my betrothed.”
“Wife,” she said, stretching to her full height but leaving a hand on his waist. “I’m your wife.” Her breathy proclamation hung in the air. And for once, it did not scare her.
“You are.” His arm pinned hers to his side in a possessive hold. “Always.”
The solid warmth of his body reassured her laboring heart. At least for the moment.
A brazen grin crept up Gera’s face as he watched Eliab bleed. He rode forth until his mule stood neck to neck with their mount.
“Is she too much for you, Eliab? Let me savor her bruising.”
A sucking sound coming from Gera’s lips caused her stomach to heave. She covered her mouth in a gesture of shock.
The accompanying men chuckled at their leader’s suggestive sounds. Eliab tensed. She felt every ridge and bump under her grasp.
“Watch your mouth.” Eliab spit out the rebuke with enough force to quiet the cackling. “Do you mean to bring judgment upon me as your family did upon our brothers?” Eliab scanned the men, stopping his gaze upon a younger Benjamite. “Abihu, did my father not defend your household before the council? Did he not give his word that you were not in the town square?”
Gera chastised the boy with a scowl. “And what did Berek bring upon Benjamin but destruction?”
“Because he would not hand your brothers over to the elders.” Eliab’s shout rang in her ears. A trickle of blood from an unbound gash on Eliab’s shoulder snaked down her arm.
I beg of You, Lord, send me Your angels, for I need to get Eliab home.
Gera urged his mount forward so he sat inches from Eliab. The pungent odor of days-old sweat filled her nostrils. She leaned away from Gera’s stench.
Eliab seemed to ignore his foe. He lifted his left arm and pointed at Gera’s men.
“The household of Berek serves the One True God. The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Stand with the remaining elders of our tribe. There are not enough of us left to fight each other.”
Gera scoffed at Eliab. “Did your brother Ashbanel not share a bed with my sister and her idols?”
“No.” The correction came from behind Gera’s men.
Berek rode through the row of scoffers, parting their line and bumping Abih
u’s mount. The boy’s mule bucked. Losing heart, Abihu trotted off with another of Gera’s men. Dust kicked up by spooked hooves masked their retreat.
Eliab pulled their mule away from Gera.
Berek and Isa sat high on their mounts among Gera’s scattering followers. A few men followed in Berek’s wake and kept the cowards from sneaking back to the city.
Naomi crumpled against Eliab’s back. She exhaled so long she could not remember the last time she had breathed in. Thank You, Lord. God had sent them defenders.
Parading in front of the crowd, Berek assessed every man, eye to eye, before turning around and halting in front of Gera. “I believe my oldest, Ashbanel, pleasured in your sister, but not in her gods.” Berek bellowed his correction. His stare rested on Gera. “Do not make me regret protecting a few of our men, for all of us have suffered because of their transgressions.”
“Can we not converse with a brother?” Gera shrugged. “I believe you have misjudged us, Elder. Allow me to make amends and we will be on our way.” Gera signaled for his men to disperse. He rode closer to Eliab’s mount. She turned her head, for even looking at the devious liar churned her stomach.
Berek allowed Gera privacy for his apology.
“Forgive me.” Gera’s voice boomed, but it held no remorse. “But why shouldn’t I delight in your pain? You’ve had two wives and left me with none.”
“Liar.” Eliab lunged at Gera.
She jerked sideways. “Eliab,” she screamed, trying to right herself and keep them from falling to the ground. She yanked on his tunic and caught the edge of a bloody bandage that came loose in her hand.
Eliab winced.
Served him right for acting like a fool. She knew Gera to be vile, but his claim about Eliab having another betrothed made her want to slap someone. She withdrew her hands from Eliab’s waist.
Backing his mule over a few feet of parched soil, Gera regarded her form with uninvited interest. “Your Ephraimite whore should take better care of you, Eliab.”
She fisted Eliab’s bandage and hurled it at Gera with a slinger’s aim. Bloodstained cloth slid down his nasty face with its gaping mouth.
“Filthy hog. Go wash yourself,” she shouted.
Isa and Berek hurried toward Eliab.
Retreating with what were left of his men, Gera kept his unclean face averted.
Berek’s expression soured as he scanned his son’s injuries. “What did that coward do to you?”
“I chased a goat off a cliff. If Naomi had not been with me, I would still be sleeping on the side of a mountain.” Eliab relaxed against her chest.
Isa tilted Eliab’s chin and observed his eyes. “I worried when you did not arrive with my livestock. Do you see more than one of me?”
“One is enough.” Eliab tried to smile, but grunted instead as he shifted his weight. “I’m glad you are in need of me. Though next time, I will herd the sheep.”
“The ewe?” Isa asked.
A lump grew in Naomi’s throat as she recalled the mother’s desperate eyes. “My hands were full. I could not carry another.”
Berek untethered her mule. The animal did not seem unnerved by the commotion. “We must get my son home and care for his wounds.”
“Naomi can tend to my needs.” Eliab kicked at his mule’s sides and guided it in the direction of East Gibeah.
She would tend to Eliab because her fate was aligned with his, but her temples throbbed as tendrils of envy wrapped around her insides. Eliab had never mentioned another woman. She leaned in close to his ear. “I hope my talents measure up to your previous wife’s.”
14
Berek settled Eliab onto a mat in the corner of the living area. Naomi grabbed a jar in order to fill a basin with water. So lightweight was the empty vessel that it practically lifted itself. But why was it empty? Hadn’t Cuzbi filled the pots while she was risking her life on the hilly trails? If only she could smash the pottery without a reprimand. Nothing like being threatened by Gera and lied to by her supposed husband. Her family could not arrive fast enough. The sooner her tribe came, the better. What was taking them so long?
She stomped into the cooking courtyard, ready to charge at anything or anyone. Someone grasped her shoulder. Her chest heaved. She whipped around, ready to fight.
“Cuzbi,” she rasped, “I thought you were Gera.”
“Gera? That boar of a man who chastised my husband? Oh, Naomi.” Cuzbi pulled her into an embrace. “I heard of Eliab’s fall. Will he heal? Can he still father a child?”
Naomi ripped free from Cuzbi. This was not a customary apology or consolation. Curses hung on her lips, but she swallowed them. “What is wrong with you? Have you been drinking again?”
Cuzbi stepped backward. “No.” She stretched out her response like a disobedient child. “I learned my lesson last night. And this morning.” She rubbed her temple. “According to my husband, I spoke forthright from the spirits.”
Cuzbi’s casual use of husband fueled Naomi’s ire. Her friend had most readily accepted being kidnapped. Naomi rubbed her hand on her robe. Where would she be this morning if Eliab had not shown restraint and honored her request for time? She shuddered at the thought of a stranger stroking her skin—a thought Cuzbi seemed to have embraced without consideration of her family’s honor.
Remembering her task, Naomi rushed to get clean water. “I cannot tarry. Eliab needs my attention.”
Cuzbi scurried after her. “You have decided to stay then?”
Naomi filled her jar from the containers in the courtyard. She pointed at Cuzbi. “I need some oil, hyssop, and herbs.”
As she passed by her friend, Cuzbi took hold with such strength that Naomi nearly drenched their clothes.
“I need you, Naomi. Look around us. Did you not want to marry a landowner? We have fields and you know how to till them. Who will loom the garments for me to barter? You weave for the best merchants.” A tear strayed from Cuzbi’s lashes. “Stay and raise children with me. Be my midwife and I will be yours.”
Berek’s summons for assistance bellowed from inside the dwelling.
She clutched her vessel tighter so as not to waste a single drop.
“Open your eyes.” Cuzbi’s grip was a tourniquet upon Naomi’s arm. “Stay.”
Friendship, duty, and despair bore down on Naomi like sacks of grain on a mule’s withers. Her lips parted but she did not know what to say. Should she stay to be near her friend or to be wed to a landowner? Didn’t she deserve more from a marriage? Didn’t her family deserve consideration? Her thoughts blurred. Since the festival, hardly anything made sense.
“I need the oil and herbs. Please hurry.” She backed away from Cuzbi and stomped into the house.
Eliab, half-awake, tried to smile at her as she dropped by his side and dampened a cloth. Removing the blood from his face would be her first task. He winced as she swiped his cheek.
“Are you planning on leaving any skin?”
She lightened her touch and wrung out the rag.
Eliab glanced at where his father and brother sat huddled at the table in fervent discussion.
“If you are upset at Gera’s words, you needn’t be. He misspoke,” Eliab muttered. “I had a short betrothal, but no wife.”
“Then what Gera said had some truth in it. You lied to me.” Heat rushed through her body. She began to rise. “Scrub your own chin.”
Eliab grabbed her arm.
“Don’t leave. Stay and I will tell you everything.” His voice was strained.
She hesitated. Ripping her arm from his grasp would hurt Eliab. She didn’t wish that. She cared. A little. And she had a lot of curiosity. Had Eliab spent much time in this girl’s household? And if he had, could he forget his feelings for her? Is that why he’d waited in the grove? She wanted to know—had to know—in order to banish the accusations from her mind.
“I will listen. There are not many places where I can go.” When he released her arm, she sat back down, making sure their bodies did no
t touch.
Eliab rested his back against the wall. “My father arranged for me to marry a Reubenite. I visited her home near Jericho twice. Once to meet her family and share a meal. Another time to sit with her and her mother and a few aunts to talk. The war began shortly after my second journey.”
She twisted a rag in the basin. “You were not alone with her?”
“I did not kiss her.” The words rushed from his mouth. “I have only kissed one woman other than my mother and my sisters.” He stroked her knee with a feather-like caress from his battered arm.
The pulsating beat of her heart deafened her ears. She glanced to see if Ashbanel and Berek took notice. They continued their whispered debate.
“Ours was a celebratory kiss, I am told, but go on.” She used his closeness to wipe his neck.
His gaze locked on hers. His eyes danced with little lights like dust falling from the stars. She looked away and concentrated on her task. It must have been the lamp.
“It meant more to me,” he said. “I want to kiss you again, and not just a celebratory kiss. I want to kiss you as a husband who knows the tender places upon his wife’s body.”
She licked her lips. Thinking about kissing Eliab jumbled her nerves. She would not be hearing such requests if her father sat nearby, overseeing their meeting. She dipped her hands in the bowl, but her mouth felt as dry as shed snakeskin.
“You don’t know that, Eliab. You don’t know me.”
“I do know you. I knew you when you ran to help Jael. When you agreed to dance to save our lives. And when you saved me from my fall. To me you are a sunrise. A way out of the darkness. I never felt this way with the other girl.”
Reminded of their original topic, she stiffened and removed his hand from her knee.
“I asked you to recall what you did with her. If you were left by yourselves.”
His hand stayed where she had placed it.
“We spoke of our families mostly. Her mother and aunts were part of the conversation. Her father owned livestock, and we would stroll to look at the animals. During my second visit, the Levite and his wife came to stay in Gibeah. That is when Gera’s kin whipped the crowd into a frenzy and they tried to coax the Levite to come and join in their orgy. The Levite must live with his decision to send his wife into the night to suffer abuse. When my intended’s father learned of the grievances against my tribe, he took the vow and broke our betrothal.”
Building Benjamin Page 8