“Peace.” Rohat sighed and turned to face her twin. “It is nothing more than a word. But you do well to keep the little ones from living as we do.”
“We? You are a kedeshah. Your station in life is much superior to mine.”
“No, at the core it is the same. Both of us have to sleep with any man who can pay our price. The difference is, I cost more, but am allowed to keep nothing.”
It was all Rahab could do to keep from hugging her sister. How she wanted to chase the sadness from her voice. “I will bring you more treats when I can.” Perhaps it was best to change the subject. “I heard there is fighting again across the river.”
“Yes. It is the talk of Jericho. Some city was foolish enough to try and break away from the King of Bashan.”
“We had a guest who saw the ruins after King Og was done.” Rahab measured the sun’s position over the wall, knowing she could not stay much longer. “He said everyone was slaughtered and the city was burned to the ground.”
“Too bad, but such things happen when people rebel or make war,” Rohat said. “We should be grateful Jericho will never be conquered.”
“True enough,” Rahab agreed. “The soldiers I know assure me no one will ever breach our walls. There is plenty of food and water inside to withstand a long siege. We are safe from everyone but ourselves, I suppose. I must go now. The sun is almost resting on top of the wall.”
“Thank you for coming, Rahab. Please come back and see me any chance you get. You are the only person I can speak with freely. I am in the presence of other people constantly. Yet I always feel alone except when you are here.”
“Hardly anyone I know cares for anyone else, even within families. The people of Jericho all seek a morsel of food, a shekel of silver, or a moment of pleasure. Not that we are any different from anyone else.” She looked directly into Rohat’s eyes. “Think on how it felt when we could embrace one another.”
As always, Rahab walked away quickly, fearing tears were about to begin. She did not want her sister to see her weakness.
“Tell me,” the guard said as she stepped through the gate, “how is it the two of you have the same face?”
“It is a mark of distinction put on us by the gods,” Rahab said, giving him the reply she heard Bilda repeat so often.
“I have heard this means one of you has a demon,” he said, one hand on the gate.
“Yes, you are correct. I am the one.” When he stepped back quickly she added, “Have no fear. I will not put a curse on you as long as you are kind to the Priestess Rohat.” She gave him a seductive smile as she passed near him. “My name is Rahab. Come and see me someday at Riata’s inn.” One more man who asked for her by name could only hasten the purchase of her field.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
In the wilderness southeast of Jericho, across the Jordan River
Approximately thirty-eight years after the slaves escaped from Egypt
The tall, handsome young man ducked to enter the tent he shared with his father.
“Manna, my son?” Nahshon asked.
“No, thank you. I have already eaten.” Salmon sat cross-legged next to his father. “Tomorrow will be a short workday. We have only two cases before us.”
“Good. It is time for you to begin sitting in judgment without my presence.”
Salmon turned to his father. “What is this?”
“You are young, but the people of Judah willingly accept your decisions. Even Moses respects your wisdom. I am no longer needed.” The old man pursed his lips. “The day when I sleep with my fathers will come soon.” He nibbled at the flake of manna in his hand.
“Are you not feeling well?”
“I am strong,” Nahshon said. “Yet I know my time draws near. Your generation will enter the promised land, not mine.”
Salmon put a hand on his father’s shoulder. “Has something happened?”
“My friend Nathaniel passed from this life today. He was the last of my close friends who came out of Egypt with me when our people escaped from Pharaoh.”
Salmon extended his arm around his father. “I am saddened to hear of the loss of Nathaniel. I know you will miss him. As will I.”
“It was so many years ago when I carried the standard, leading the tribe of Judah out of Egypt. We were filled with such hope.” Nahshon closed his eyes. “Our journey was short in distance, but we went astray.” Gripping Salmon’s arm, he said, “Be strong and courageous, my son. Never doubt the Lord’s power. Never let fear overcome your faith.”
“I promise you again, as I have many times before, Father. I will do all these things, just as you have taught me.”
“Forgive me.” Nahshon released his grip. “I do not mean to repeat myself so often. You have grown to be everything I could ask for in a son, and more. I know you will do well.”
“I will do my best, striving always to emulate you.”
“No. Looking back, many things I deemed significant mean nothing. Fine food, an impressive dwelling, possessions. Nothing. Never allow these things to become important to you, Salmon. They cause powerful temptation. Most of all, never allow the opinions of others to sway you from what you know is right.”
“I understand, Father. Yet your generation led our people out of slavery. Who else can lay claim to such an amazing feat?”
“Yes, freedom is essential, and we have gained it through the Lord’s leadership. Never let go of your freedom, never. Fight for it. Be prepared to die for it if you must. An honorable death is far better than living a slave’s life.” Nahshon sighed, tilting his head back. “I had a good wife, and together we raised a son who warms this tired old heart every day. I ask the Almighty One for nothing more.” He turned to face Salmon. “You probably think your life is hard because we wander the wilderness, living in tents and eating nothing but manna.” He wagged his finger at his son. “Yet you know nothing of real hardship, the kind we had in Egypt, where overseers with whips drove us to early graves. They murdered our children, violated our women. And if we so much as lifted our eyes in protest, they beat and butchered us.” Nahshon made a spitting sound.
“My favorite story is the giving of the commandments.” Salmon smoothed the carpet covering the ground beneath the tent. Then he adjusted a cushion behind his father’s back. “Although I wish I could have been there for the parting of the Red Sea, too.”
“So many miracles.” Nahshon sighed. “So little belief. The Almighty One should have forsaken us many times over, but He has not. Never forget, my Son, what we have is not because we deserve it but because He has blessed us.” Suddenly the old man swung his fist toward Salmon’s face.
Catching his father’s hand at the wrist, Salmon narrowly prevented the blow from landing. “Good,” Nahshon said with a grin. “You are quick and at the ready. Never let your guard down.”
“And you are still as strong as an ox,” the young man said, laughing.
“You doubt I will sleep with my fathers soon.” Nahshon narrowed his eyes. “But you will see. I regret not arranging a marriage for you. Now you will have to find your own wife. Perhaps Joshua can advise you.”
Salmon rubbed the back of his neck. “This will be a difficult matter. You know there are two prominent families who want me to have their daughters. If I choose one, the other will be deeply offended.”
“I know. You must ask for the girl you like and stand firm when the other family assails you.”
“It is more than that.” He brushed his dark hair back with one hand. “I have no interest in either of those girls.”
Nahshon nodded without looking at his son. “Not pretty enough,” he said.
“Both are lovely to look at, though I admit one much more than the other. Surely you remember teaching me to look beyond the surface in all things. Shall I not apply wisdom to women as well as tribal judgments?”
“On whom have you cast your eyes, then?” Nahshon asked, tapping his fingertips against his chin.
“I have no one in mind as of n
ow.”
Nahshon adjusted his body into a full recline. “You have seen too much strife in court, perhaps.”
“I must say handing down judgment has been an education. Relatives accusing each other, men wanting to put away their wives for no good reason.” Gazing into the distance, Salmon hugged his knees. “I want a peaceful tent, certainly. But I want more. I want my sons to have the kind of childhood I had with you and Mother.”
“She was a rare jewel. You will not find many like her.”
“I agree,” Salmon said. “But I refuse to marry until I do.”
Nahshon continued as if ignoring his son’s comment. “Her courage was equaled only by her faith. When there was no water, and we were without meat, when we sat for weeks not knowing whether Moses was dead or alive, she never doubted. And I never once heard her complain.”
“Nor did I. Yet she always had her own thoughts and never shrank from expressing them to me. Or to you.”
“Do you not see those qualities in Lemuel’s daughter?” Nahshon turned to look at Salmon.
“No, Father. I see only a young woman whose sole ambition is to marry the Prince of Judah. That I am the man who happens to be the prince matters not at all.”
“And Simon’s eldest. What of her?”
“The very pretty girl who constantly seeks ways to shirk her duties? Who makes her younger sisters do her chores? Is she the one you ask about?”
“Perhaps I have taught you too much discernment,” Nahshon said with a sigh. “I cannot disagree with you on either maiden. There is plenty of time, but eventually you must settle on someone if you hope to have a son to carry on our line. Only give me your promise you will never give a child the name Nahshon. I have never liked it, and would not wish it on my worst enemy, let alone my grandson.”
“Your name speaks of bravery. Do you not wish such a quality for those who come after you?”
“Regardless of the meaning, Nahshon sounds like an old woman sneezing. Do names define our lives? Salmon means ‘peace’ and yet I foresee you will fight many battles, my son.”
“I have always believed inner peace was Mother’s thought when she asked you to call me Salmon.”
“How I miss her.” The old man closed his eyes for a moment. “We planned to name you Salomon, but I faltered when speaking to the priest. Nevertheless, both mean peace. In any case, Nahshon must not be used again in our family. Is this so much to ask?
“I give you my word, Father. No son of mine will be called Nahshon,” Salmon said with a smile. “Perhaps your grandchildren will be born in the promised land.”
“From your lips to the Almighty One’s ears. May He cause it to happen just as you have said.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Jericho
Approximately thirty-eight years after the slaves escaped from Egypt
“State your business,” the guard said.
“I wish to see the Priestess Rohat. I am her sister.”
“Wait here.”
Rahab did not expect to see her twin. How many times had she come to this gate, only to be turned away? The guard dispatched the young runner who always stood nearby to carry messages inside the Temple. To Rahab’s surprise, when the runner returned the guard swung the gate open and beckoned her inside.
Surely the gaunt figure emerging from the Temple doors was not Rohat. “May I go to her?” Rahab asked, thinking perhaps the woman on the porch carried a message.
At the gate guard’s nod, Rahab hurried up the stone path. When she drew near to the priestess on the porch, her hand flew to her throat. “Rohat. Is it you?”
“Yes, sister.” The voice was right, but the face was too old, the body too thin. “I am pleased you came.”
“I come every full moon. But until today, I am sent away with no explanation.”
Rohat limped to the nearest bench. “Let us sit,” she said. “I have been ill.”
“I trust you are feeling better.” Rahab sat as far away from Rohat as the length of the bench permitted, though she longed to take her sister’s hand in hers. “Is it the wasting disease?”
“No.” Rohat looked straight ahead. “An abortion almost cost me my life.”
“Oh, dear sister,” Rahab said. “I assumed the Temple provided the means of preventing conception. There are ways—”
“I know,” Rohat interrupted with a flutter of her hand. “Sometimes the protection fails. And here”–she looked upward–“pregnancy is considered a curse, a sign of Ashtoreth’s disfavor. So, of course, the means of aborting the child are harsh. They say I was lucky to survive, and claim doing so means Ashtoreth’s anger toward me has passed.”
“Do you know what brought on the goddess’s displeasure?” Rahab asked.
Rohat laughed shortly. “What goddess? Remember, on our last night in our home, I said gods are nothing but statues? I spoke the truth.”
“How can you be certain?” Rahab asked.
“See this pathway?” Rohat gestured toward the courtyard. “The figure of the goddess inside this Temple is made from exactly this same stone. From the same so-called sacred quarry, by the same consecrated hands. Ashtoreth has no more power than the rocks you walk on. She cannot appreciate sacrifices and she hears no prayers.”
“I have always hoped to find a God to worship,” Rahab said. “I gave up on Molech first, because he is so evil. And Baal never did anything. Ashtoreth’s likeness is so beautiful, I thought maybe…”
“No, sister. We have only ourselves to rely on. No goddesses. No gods. Often not even a family.” Rohat looked down at her hands. “Enough of this. There has been rain. Have you grown much flax?”
Rahab forced a smile. “Yes. I had an excellent harvest last year. Flax is most profitable but I have learned crops must be rotated. The field will wear out if flax is planted time after time. So I grow vegetables and grains in between. Kemil is my overseer. He cheats me, but little enough he thinks I do not notice.”
“And the rest of the family?” Rohat asked.
“All well,” Rahab said. “Mother and the girls labor in my field. Even Father sometimes. Yassib has become my bodyguard. He is not as fierce as Kemil, but he will give his life if necessary to defend me.”
“Tell me about Yassib’s sons.”
“They are healthy and strong,” Rahab assured her. Why reveal the older son was sold away into slavery?
“Our little sisters?” Rohat asked.
Rahab laughed. “They wear sandals in the city. Each has a spare set of clothing, and they think we are wealthy. You should hear them talk about how fine we will be in our own inn.”
Rohat smiled. “How long before that happens?”
“Soon. Fewer than two more full moons away if the locusts do not come and eat the crop I have in the field right now. I will buy Riata a new girl to replace me, to soothe her anger at my departure.”
“Think of it,” Rohat said. “Our whole family together, living in your own inn.”
“No, not everyone. If I knew where Rondar was, I would try to buy her freedom. But there is no trace.”
“The same with Rima, I suppose.”
Rahab thought back to the day she and Kemil took Rima to the Temple of Molech. After all these years, why cause Rohat pain? “Yes, of course,” she agreed. “I brought you something. Guess what it is.”
“Nuts?” Rohat asked
“Yes. Almonds. And something else, a pomegranate. Have you ever had one?”
“I have heard men speak of this fruit, but I have never tasted it,” Rohat said.
“You can tell me next time if you like it. It is with your almonds in the pouch lying behind the bench. Be sure to take it with you when you go inside.”
Rohat nodded. “And finally I am able to have a gift for you.”
Knowing her sister was never allowed to keep anything of value for herself, Rahab asked, “Did you make it?”
“No, I stole it. Do you remember the day Mother brought us here ?”
“Yes,” Rahab answ
ered. How could she ever forget?
“The great hall where we waited so long, the one where the ceiling had blue and purple drapes, all gathered up with the scarlet cords, do you recall?”
The sights of the room Rohat described were still fresh in Rahab’s mind. “I do, but—”
“The high priestess decided to change the appearance of that hall. She ordered all of the old decorations taken down and burned. I tried to get a piece of fabric, but others were faster and stronger. The scarlet cords were left behind, so I took one for you. I wanted to take all of them, but they were too heavy.”
“How lovely,” Rahab said, wondering what use she had for a fancy rope.
“Yes. The cord is very thick and strong. And such a distinctive color. I know you will find a special place for it in your new inn. Look there.” Rohat directed Rahab’s attention toward some pink blooms. “Behind those flowers is the courtyard wall. Outside, hidden in the bushes, you will find your gift.”
“How did you manage to get a heavy rope over the high wall?”
“Another kedeshah helped me,” Rohat said. “Perhaps the only friend I have ever had other than you.” Her voice grew weaker. “This is a mean place, Rahab. You were fortunate to escape the followers of Ashtoreth.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Jericho
Approximately thirty-nine years after the slaves escaped from Egypt
Bimler the broker was a short man. Everything about him was broad—his face, his hands and fingers, his belly. Rahab neither liked nor trusted him. However, Yassib was convinced the man knew every structure and location for sale in the city of Jericho. “You are much younger than most of my clients,” Bimler said.
Instead of answering the implied question, Rahab smiled at him. She was weary of men who wanted more personal information than she wished to share. “Have you located an inn for me?”
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