“Oh, I would have noticed you. Of that you can be certain.” He stilled her hand, kissed it, and went to pack up his satchel.
She hugged her waist and let his kiss dry on her skin. What would she have thought of Eliab if she had seen him with his flocks? He commanded attention with his height, but would that have been enough to interest her? No, not upon itself, but if she were honest, truly honest, his smile and sensitivity would have drawn her like bees to a bloom.
He drew near as if he knew her thoughts. “Rest for a moment. The morning sun will keep you from stubbing your toes.”
“I would not have to worry if I knew the landscape.”
“It is new for both of us,” he said.
His closeness made her think he did not only speak of pathways and pain.
Soon they joined merchants and travelers flooding into Bethlehem. Carts stacked high with food and cages jostled and rattled on the main road into the city. Wares needed to be sold before sundown, before the beginning of the Sabbath. Eliab strutted by the merchants, who slowed their pace to let him pass. Heads turned, but no one reprimanded the stranger who stood a head taller than any man on the march toward town. She took three steps to Eliab’s one. The people blurred into a dizzying mass as she rushed to follow Eliab’s path.
In the corner of the market square, a man robed in velvet called out to the crowd. Gold rings glistened as his fingers fanned a summons to listen to his speech.
Eliab darted his direction.
The merchant flung his arms out in welcome. “Ah, do you wish to adorn your woman, or yourself?”
She stifled a laugh. She had never seen Eliab covered in gold jewelry, nor could she picture him with nose rings and armbands shearing sheep.
“Not today. I come in search of Sereb, son of Nashon.”
The man’s grin soured. “Perhaps tomorrow you will barter?”
“Perhaps soon.” Eliab glanced her direction.
His confidence emboldened her spirit. She wished for a time of peace. A time when coins jingled in her pouch.
“It is one of your elders I seek at the moment.” Eliab’s tone held firm to his original request.
The merchant sighed and clicked his tongue at Eliab’s refusal to purchase trinkets. “Follow this street up the hill. You will see his house on the right. Two stories.”
Eliab thanked the man.
The merchant pushed her aside to flatter a new customer. “Come back with this girl or another.”
Her insides twisted like a washrag. Eliab was her betrothed. Try as she had these past days to think of another suitor, or another situation, her thoughts and her feelings stayed loyal to her Benjamite. She would not step aside and let someone else be Eliab’s wife. She would not be forced by Judah, or anyone, to return to her parents.
She grabbed his hand discreetly as they neared the crest of the hill. His fingers were uncommonly cool for the desert air, but his grip held firm.
Eliab halted in front of the elder’s house. “I thought your touch would calm my heart but it runs like a rabbit.”
“We should pray,” she said, wanting to embrace him but respectful of the people shuffling by. “Though I am confident you can speak as well as your father.”
“I do not fear speaking on behalf of Benjamin, but I do fear burying the rest of my family. I do not know if I have the strength to return to another graveyard.”
She wrapped his hand in both of hers. “The tribe of Judah will come to Benjamin’s rescue. You told me once that you prayed the night of the raid for God to send you a wife. He did, Eliab. I tried to hate you, but I cannot. I meant what I said to your father. God has a plan, and I do not believe it ends here.”
He swept a piece of hair under her head covering. “Then let us ask Him to reveal it.” Eliab bowed his head. “Give me Your wisdom to speak, O Lord. Open the hearts of the elders to our plea. May Rachel not weep for her descendants in the bosom of Abraham.”
“Hear us, O God,” she echoed.
Was it her imagination, or did the commotion on the streets hush during their petition? She would take anything—the warmth on her face, their safe travels, the merchant’s knowledge, anything—as a sign that God was with them.
Eliab knocked on the door of the cream-colored stone dwelling. The hollow sound of knuckles on wood echoed down the street.
Please acknowledge us. Energy surged in her veins even though she stood still as a sculpture.
The door opened. A servant occupied the entry and assessed Eliab’s robe and stature.
“I come to speak with Sereb as a fellow elder.” Eliab’s official tone sent the woman into a head-bobbing bow.
The servant invited them inside.
Naomi stifled a sigh of relief.
“I will see if my master is able to visit. My mistress is awake. And I will send for water for your feet.”
Naomi bent at the knees to hide her sandals. Traveling in the dark had not been kind to her toes. Her stomach rumbled at the aroma of bread baking. When harvest came to East Gibeah, she would bake enough food to feed an army of strangers.
Footsteps clapped on the floor. A woman appeared dressed in the color of honey and jeweled with pure malachite.
“My husband has just risen. May I offer you refreshment while you wait?” She clasped her hands at her waist.
“Thank you,” Eliab said. “I come with an urgent request for Judah’s elders. My father spoke highly of your husband and his influence. I hope we can discuss a plan of action.”
The woman’s face brightened with a pride-filled smile. “My husband is well respected in this city and beyond its walls.”
“As I have heard. The tribe of Benjamin is in need of his—”
“You are a Benjamite?” The woman’s smile vanished. Her jaw gaped as she crumpled to the floor.
Did she faint? Naomi rushed to her aid as did the servant who carried the washbasin.
“Murderer,” Sereb’s wife screamed. “Get out. Get your evil out of my house.” The woman shook her clenched fists at Eliab. “Husband, come quickly.”
Naomi fell to her knees to beseech the woman. “We come for aid. For peace.”
“Liar. Sin reigns in Gibeah.” The woman’s gaze grew savage. Spit struck Naomi’s cheek. The woman flailed her arms and lunged at Naomi with talon-like hands, ripping at Naomi’s head covering and the hair underneath.
Scalp on fire, Naomi pried her ringlets from the woman’s clenched fists. Naomi stumbled backward from the force of her own pull.
“Calm her,” Eliab ordered the servants.
O Lord, did I appear as ugly with wrath as this woman?
Two girls and a boy struggled to raise their mistress.
A man swooped into the room with his turban askew and his robe barely closed. He caught the woman in a husbandly embrace.
“What is the meaning of this outburst?”
Naomi’s bones rattled at Sereb’s indignation. She jumped toward Eliab and closer to the door.
Eliab held open his hands and dipped in a show of respect. “I am Eliab ben Berek. I come as an elder from Benjamin, seeking an army to keep us from ruin.”
“And you came to Judah? Did you not slaughter our men? Kill my son?” Sereb’s voice cracked. His wife sobbed uncontrollably.
“We face annihilation on your counsel.” Eliab lowered to one knee. “I beg of you, as a fellow son of Jacob, listen to our plea. Help us.”
Sereb shook his head with violent swings that threatened to send his turban across the room.
“You have come to blame Judah for your problems. Our people’s blood is on Benjamin’s hands. Alone.” Sereb hurled a cup at Eliab.
Eliab ducked.
Naomi snatched the well-aimed pottery before it hit the wall and shattered.
“Leave us. Now.” Sereb readied more ammunition. “Take your pagan whore with you.”
Eliab grasped her arm.
“No. Leave me be.” Naomi held her ground and faced Sereb. “I am not a heathen.” Her t
hroat blazed as she controlled her rage. “I am a daughter of Ephraim. I serve the Most High God. Do not turn us away because of the past. Can we not discuss the future of our people?”
Sereb’s wife aimed a vase at Naomi’s face. “You dare to address my husband, you vile girl.”
Naomi readied her own cup to launch. “I came seeking mercy from your household so Rachel would not weep for her descendants. But I can see there is no justice here.”
At Eliab’s urging, Naomi dropped her cup, turned, and fled.
High-pitched wailing and the smashing of stoneware followed in their wake.
20
Eliab stormed through the marketplace. Vendors waved at him and offered a taste of almonds and olives, but he did not stop his limp-legged march. Naomi drew alongside him and tapped his arm.
“We will not leave Bethlehem until we have sought every elder. All we need is one ally to rally some fighting men.”
“I should have anticipated the hatred.” He slowed and paced next to a wagon. “I thought the leaders would forgive those who remained alive.”
“They are wounded men.” She tried to strengthen Eliab’s spirit after the conflict with Sereb and his wife. “Did I not have the same disgust when you captured me?”
He shook his head. “You panicked when I took you from Shiloh, and you were mad, but in everything, I saw a compassion that not only comforted Jael—it challenged me to be a better man.” He towered over her, blocking the sun.
“I know you as a man who follows God’s laws. A remnant of good from evil.”
“And?” His voice grew harsh.
“A laborer as well as a leader.”
“And?”
His drawn and creased face concerned her. Had he lost confidence in himself?
She placed a hand on his robe. “You are a man who makes me feel things I cannot put into words, much less demonstrate in a public market.”
His chest sank like a sack of grain emptying into a trough. “Why does God give me a wife if it is not meant to be?”
She tugged on a twisted tassel. “Sereb may be against us, but there are other leaders in this city. We need only find one elder willing to fight for his brothers’ survival.”
“Then let us go to the courtyard, for any elder worth his station will be making his way to morning prayer.”
“I hope God has a listening ear,” Naomi said. “I have enough petitions for the whole city.”
Eliab cinched his belt. He scanned the crowd before bending down. “When our task is finished,” he whispered, “we must talk about those feelings you have, for I believe you caught them from me. And tomorrow, after the Sabbath, we are free to act upon them.” His half-hearted wink made her float on air in the midst of the bustle of the barterers.
They crossed to the north side of the city, the direction facing her home in Shiloh. Days ago, she would have lunged off these city walls and fled to her tribe, but not anymore. If only her father and brother knew of her change of heart.
Chairs sat in a semicircle at the edge of a clearing overlooking the fields and flocks surrounding Bethlehem of Judah. This had to be the place of prayer, for a canopy covered the elders’ small thrones. The masses would stand in the open, braving the brunt of the sun.
Eliab surveyed some men talking in a distant alley. “At least no one has come to stone me.”
“Do not even utter those words.” She shuddered at the mention of violence.
Women shuffled by with vessels of water and set them near the chairs.
Naomi followed the procession and beckoned Eliab to come and wait near the tall cleansing jars. Amongst a crowd they would not be noticed.
“You are early.”
Naomi startled at the voice. She whipped around, heart thudding, and beheld an elderly man half the size of Eliab. The man’s crooked neck and hunched shoulders did not aid his stature. He wore no shoes. His tunic, though thick and sewn straight, held no adornments. Due to his stoop, his gray hair hung forward in his face. Poor man. How sad to be a servant at his age.
“We came early for prayer.” Eliab’s shoulders dipped. “I’ve traveled to see the elders of Judah.”
The servant waved off Eliab’s comment. “We must get ready. No one is in a hurry this day.” The man beckoned Eliab and her with his hand. “Come, help me arrange the area for ceremonial washing.”
Eliab hesitated, but she pushed him forward. “Can you lift the vessels?” she asked, remembering his injured arm.
He scowled. “Women carried those.”
“I know, but they did not fall off a cliff onto their side.”
The servant hobbled her direction. “Young woman, follow me.”
Eliab settled a jar on his shoulder and motioned for her to go with the man. The servant handed out tasks like sweet cakes.
The old man pointed to the side of the courtyard. “The small jugs go on the end. Bring the cups as well.” Apparently, he had confidence in her fetching, for he left her alone and trailed after Eliab, making him shift and position the tall jars to his liking. Eliab’s patience with the servant lifted her spirits. She longed to see him interact with children. Their own children. Lord, bless us with a kind ear in Judah.
Men, women, and children arrived for prayer. Eliab knelt in a line in the front of the courtyard with the other men. His brightly hued robe shone like a jewel among the muted colors and plain weaves of the worshippers’ garments. Sitting in the back of the crowd, she nestled beside a lady large enough to shield her from any flying ceremonial cups.
Two men not much older than her father and dressed in flowing robes arrived. The crowd hung back as the prominent men poured water over each other’s hands. They sauntered toward the wooden thrones and set themselves apart from the crowd. Neither scanned the courtyard for a tall Benjamite. Toda raba. Thanks be to God.
Her breath hitched when Sereb appeared among a mass of townspeople. Attendants ushered his wife to a stool not far from where the last row of men gathered. Naomi instinctively brushed a hand over her head, her scalp still tender from the woman’s attack.
Sereb washed, but as he turned to join his fellow elders for prayer and the reading of the Law, his chest broadened as if he inhaled the wind.
“You.” He jabbed a finger over and over at Eliab. “Why does a dog from Benjamin seek counsel with Judah? Did you not turn your back on God and the other sons of Jacob?”
Naomi tensed. She ducked behind her broad neighbor and scanned the perimeter for anything to use as a weapon.
The muttering of worshippers hummed like a swarm of locusts.
Eliab held up his hands. He dipped his head in reverence. “I come in peace. To ask a favor for Jacob’s descendants.”
Strangers pushed Eliab as if to remove him from the courtyard. He stumbled, but the crush of men kept his body upright.
Her heart lodged in her throat. If harm came to Eliab, what would become of Cuzbi and Jael? “Send us Your angels, Lord,” she muttered. The lady beside her scowled like the prayer distracted from the commotion.
The elderly servant waddled right by her post.
“Leave him be,” the old man shouted. He elbowed people who did not clear from his path.
She echoed his request in hopes others would join in. No one did.
Jabbing a crooked finger at Sereb, the servant continued ranting. “He is a visitor to our land. An elder. Where is your hospitality?”
Sereb’s face grew scarlet as if he was flushed from too much wine. “This traitor is not welcome in Judah.”
“Why not?” The words rushed from Naomi’s lips. “Is he not an Israelite?” She moved closer to her elderly ally and hoped he had a household that would come to his aid.
“Sereb, bring order.” The booming request sent a shiver of relief down her spine.
The crowd hushed their debate.
A man, broader than most, his collar adorned with polished bronze rings, shoved forward and stood next to Eliab. With his size, only a fool would challenge the newc
omer.
“You insult a guest and a fellow worshipper.” The fierce-looking stranger crossed his arms over his chest.
Sereb widened his stance and positioned himself in the front of the courtyard. “What concern is he of yours, Onan?”
“It appears I owe a debt to this foreigner, who arranged our vessels in your absence.” Onan clapped a hand on Eliab’s good shoulder. “I wish to listen to his reasons for disturbing us.”
Was this the servant’s master? Whoever he was, she welcomed his defense of her husband. Husband? She yearned for a time when people would accept their joining without passing judgment.
“He brings war to our gates.” Sereb made sure every person within blocks of the courtyard heard his accusation. “He is sent by the leaders of Benjamin to amass an army. I, for one, have lost enough sons in Gibeah. But then, you thirst for a fight, don’t you?”
Onan chuckled, deep and taunting. “No, brother, you misunderstand me. I don’t run into battle, but I do not run from them.”
“My desire is to prevent a slaughter, to prevent a war.” Eliab beseeched both elders equally. “The fighting men of Ephraim and Manasseh threaten to destroy what is left of Benjamin. They seek revenge for the daughters we took as wives.”
“See.” Sereb strung out his accusation. “They caused men to break a holy vow made by the tribal leaders.”
“We did no such thing,” Eliab’s voice boomed, rising above Sereb’s shade tent. “We kept the fathers of Ephraim innocent of wrongdoing. They did not give us the girls. We stole the virgins to keep their fathers blameless.”
Gasps skittered among the gatherers.
Naomi edged forward. If the crowd became hostile, she would need Onan to come to her and Eliab’s defense.
Onan clapped his hands to stop the gossiping. He turned to address Eliab.
“Why do you come to Judah in search of fighting men and not to our brothers, Reuben or Gad?”
Eliab surveyed the crowd as if choosing an army. “Berek, my father and an elder in his own right, claims it was at Judah’s urging that we lay in wait in Shiloh and grabbed the daughters of Ephraim when they came out to dance.”
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