Bilda stopped her work momentarily and glanced toward Karmot.
“Help me roll the sleeping mats and put them away,” Rahab said to her sister. She put a hand on Bilda’s shoulder. “They will be home soon.” She hoped what she told her mother was true.
The bottom edge of the sun started to slip out of sight when pounding on the door and familiar voices sent everyone running to the reception room. While Karmot removed the locking beam, Bilda snatched the door open for her sons to enter. Kemil leaned heavily on Yassib, and both were spattered with blood. “Oh, my son!” Bilda screamed. She put her arms around Kemil, while Yassib kicked the door closed.
“The beam!” Yassib yelled. “Quick!” He helped Karmot slam the locking log in place to secure the entryway.
“Come,” Bilda said, as Kemil transferred his arm from Yassib to Bilda’s shoulders. “I will dress your wound.”
Putting a hand on Yassib’s forearm, Karmot said, “Explain.”
“Jericho has gone mad,” Yassib said, while he and his father followed the rest of the family into the courtyard. “There is almost no food for sale. Crowds roam the streets, plundering, stealing, fighting.”
“Soldiers are not keeping order?”
“The king’s men are the worst of all,” Yassib replied.
Kemil drew back when Bilda touched his face with a wet cloth. “One of them ripped my earring away from me, and almost took my ear with it.” He winced again. “He could have asked. I would have given my jewelry to him.”
Yassib shook his head. “A soldier stands at each well, charging people to draw water.”
“How can this be?” Karmot asked. “Six days an army marches around our strong walls. They make no attempt to attack, and the city is in turmoil?” He shook his head. “It makes no sense.”
“It is not just any army out there beyond the walls. These Hebrews are the people whose God parted the Red Sea so they could escape from slavery in Egypt,” Yassib said.
“That is merely a myth.” Kemil waved a hand dismissively.
“It appears there are some in Jericho who disagree.” Yassib shrugged. “Two government officials were impaled yesterday for suggesting surrender.”
“Fools!” Karmot said. “They deserved what they got.”
“May I speak?” Rahab asked. She waited only an instant to continue, “Do I dare go and try to buy ointment for Kemil’s ear?”
“No!” Yassib exclaimed. “Today of all days we must all stay behind locked doors.”
“I will make a poultice,” Bilda said, still wiping blood from Kemil’s face and neck.
Karmot pointed at Yassib. “Why today in particular? Is that not what you said?”
“All of the temples have been serving free wine since daybreak. Every man can have as much as he wants to drink. At sunset, the prince will be offered to the gods to ward off an attack by the Hebrews,” Yassib said. “Half the people in the city are cowering in fear, and the other half are blind with drunkenness.”
Rahab stopped wringing the bloody rag. The prince was to be sacrificed? What would become of Rohat?
That evening, as Rahab turned her flax once again, she heard the noise of revelers in the streets outside the inn. If marching around the walls spawned such a reaction, she wondered what the results of the coming siege would be. Although she was not certain the God of the Hebrews paid attention to her prayers, she nevertheless felt drawn to remind Him once again of the promise she received from the spies. Afterward, she sat alone on the rooftop and allowed her thoughts to linger on her sister. Next full moon, she thought, I will try again to see Rohat. Maybe now she will understand she must escape from the temple of Ashtoreth.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“Did you sleep well?” Bilda asked as Rahab went into the courtyard before dawn.
Rahab yawned and stretched her arms. “No, too much noise.”
“Um.” Bilda stirred the coals of the cooking fire. “Will the Hebrews go around the walls again today?”
“I suppose so,” Rahab answered, as she yawned again and brushed fallen leaves from the stone table.
“They make everyone uneasy,” Bilda muttered.
Rahab stretched her shoulders and neck. “Perhaps that is why they do it.”
After patting out dough for flatbread, Bilda placed portions on her wooden baking paddle. She slid the paddle into her clay oven, while Rahab went to a line of low bushes. Gathering the tunics hanging there, she announced, “Yassib and Kemil’s clothes are dry.” She examined the garments and added, “No bloodstains remain.”
Karmot strode into the courtyard, still tying a belt around his tunic. “How can anyone expect a man to get his rest with so much commotion in the street all night? And now this.” He waved toward the back of the inn, where the sound of marching began to penetrate the city wall. “They are early today.”
One by one, Rahab’s brothers and sisters wandered into the courtyard. Bilda seemed to have the timing arranged perfectly, with bread turned onto the stone table to greet each family member’s arrival.
“Your ear.” Karmot pointed at Kemil. “How is it?”
“Sore, but beginning to heal,” Kemil replied.
Yassib peered into the enormous water crock. “Tomorrow or the next day at the latest, someone will have to fetch water.”
“Perhaps these people will leave before then,” Karmot said, helping himself to another piece of flatbread. “Surely they see this marching around the walls accomplishes nothing.”
“Do you think so?” Kemil cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. “Our prince is dead, food is scarce, and we are afraid to open the city gates. I would say the Hebrews have achieved good results, considering they have not engaged in a single skirmish with the king’s men.”
Rahab sat in the courtyard with her family until the sun peeked over the height of the city wall and began to warm her back. There was no conversation, only the sound of the Hebrew soldiers tramping by outside. Daily chores were dwindling to almost nothing. She dared not venture outside for food or water. The stable remained tidy, with no goat occupying its straw bed. Even if guests banged at the door, she planned to turn them away. She wondered which was worse, the boredom of the coming siege or the inevitable hunger. Bilda dozed with Karmotil sleeping in her lap, while Karmot used a knife to strip the bark from a small limb. Nearby, Sanda and Masula sat watching a stray pigeon who seemed interested in the baited bird trap. Yassib and Kemil retreated to the reception room.
Suddenly, a cacophony of sound filled Rahab’s ears. Men outside the walls shouted, their voices mingling with the noise of many horns. She looked up to see the huge, thick city wall ripping apart. A section of the wall crumbled inward onto her next-door neighbor’s home. Was that shaking an earthquake, or the aftershock of the falling wall? Another section of the wall fell on the opposite side of the inn. To Rahab’s horror, a wide crack tall enough for a man to walk through opened up next to her back stairs. She struggled to stand, but was unable to keep her balance.
Yassib and Kemil rushed into the courtyard, only to be thrown to the ground. “What in Baal’s name?” Karmot shouted. For several moments, there was dust and noise all around. Then a quiet, shocked stillness settled over the courtyard. Suddenly, soldiers began to pour through the gap in the wall, into the courtyard of the inn. Kemil reached for Karmot’s knife which lay on the ground nearby. “No, son,” Karmot said, stopping Kemil’s motion by grabbing his hand. “There are too many of them.”
The soldiers walked to where the family still lay. “Is this the home of Rahab?” one of the men asked.
“Yes. I am Rahab.” She raised herself to her knees. She recognized the tall man, the spy Salmon, among the soldiers.
“We have come to conduct you safely out of Jericho,” Salmon said.
“We are ready to go, Sir,” Rahab replied. Family members stared at her with amazed faces. “I made a bargain with the Hebrew spies,” she said softly. “Their lives for ours.”
Salmon looked
around the courtyard. “Have you no possessions?” he asked.
How foolish of me, Rahab thought. Naturally the family had to bribe the soldiers. “Yes, of course,” she replied. “Shall we gather them?”
“Please do,” he said. “Quickly, however. Benjamin and I must join in the battle as soon as possible.”
Rahab stood and turned toward her shocked family. “Let us each take an extra tunic and our sleeping mat. Then as much food and water as we can.” She hurried to carry out her own instructions. After filling her arm with bracelets, she grabbed every shekel of silver she had. Is it more dangerous to be found with a weapon than to be unarmed? After a moment of hesitation, she strapped her dagger over her tunic and spread her shawl to cover it. To obtain her last treasure, she pulled a loose board from the wall, took out the jewel Rohat gave her, and tucked it inside her tunic.
Returning to the courtyard, Rahab noticed Bilda folding three pieces of her prized red and black pottery into her bedroll. She hardly knew how to respond when Salmon approached her and silently took her bundles. Hoping to divert attention from her silver bracelets, she said, “There is more food stored up than we can carry. You may help yourselves.”
Salmon held up a hand. “No, thank you. We are under orders to take nothing from this city, except silver, gold, brass, and iron.”
Yes, she thought, but you will take my family’s clothes and bedding. Out of habit, she smiled. Then she took Masula’s hand and fell in line behind her parents and brothers. She noticed only Yassib and Kemil still had possession of their sleeping mats. The soldiers took all of the other burdens—including Bilda’s cooking pots, jars of wine, and bags of food.
The group went out of the city through the crack in the great wall, at the same spot where the soldiers entered the inn. As they walked quickly around to the road, Rahab was astonished to realize the whole outer wall was collapsed inward. The only fortification she saw still standing was the thick but narrow fragment against which her inn was built. Unending screams and shouts melted into one continuous roar, while Hebrew soldiers poured into Jericho like bees on a honeycomb. Rahab tucked the end of her scarf over Masula’s face to protect her from the choking dust still rising from the crumbled walls.
After walking far enough down the road to hear each other speak, Salmon pointed to a lone shade tree standing in an abandoned field. “Wait for us there,” he said. “Someone will come for you this evening.”
Rahab and her family huddled under the tree. The soldiers piled the rolled sleeping mats and other bundles nearby and ran toward the city.
“Explain, Daughter,” Karmot said without moving his eyes from the wreckage of Jericho.
Despite the warmth of the day, Rahab could not stop shivering. “Do you remember two men who claimed to be Egyptians coming to the inn one afternoon, several days before the marching around our walls began?”
“The two who said they would stay the evening, but left while I fetched water?” Karmot asked.
“Yes, those men.” Rahab drew her scarf more tightly around herself and Masula, who sat trembling in her lap. “The same ones who brought us out of the city just now, the Hebrew spies.” She waited for a response. When no one else spoke, she continued. “I made a bargain with them to spare our lives when they took the city. In exchange I helped them escape from the king’s men.”
“How foolish of you, Rahab,” Kemil growled. “You could have gotten us killed.”
Karmot turned to face Kemil. “Do you not realize your sister saved us? What do you suppose would happen if we were inside the walls now? Or where they used to be. Look, even the inner wall has collapsed.” He shifted his gaze to Rahab. “One more question. I see it now, but what made you understand before today the Hebrews had the might to take Jericho?”
“The walls giving way does not mean the tent-dwellers have conquered our city,” Kemil insisted.
Rahab bent her face over her little sister’s hair for a moment, then looked up and spoke boldly. “I believe in the power of the Hebrew God.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
As the sun moved to the sunset side of the sky, Jericho began to burn. At first there were pockets of smoke, but they eventually coalesced into one huge bonfire. Hebrew soldiers retreated outside the rubble where the city walls stood only yesterday. Rahab wondered if the people of Jericho were too proud to evacuate the burning city or if their avowed fight to the death was already over. She, Bilda, and the girls wept, while the men sat in silence. Only Karmotil remained oblivious to the destruction. He crawled in the dirt, frequently asked for water, and happily ate food from their provisions.
Bilda adjusted her position to put an arm around Rahab. “I am sorry,” she whispered. “All is lost, everything you worked so hard to gain.”
“I do not weep for my possessions, but for Rohat,” Rahab replied. Upon speaking her twin’s name, she broke down, sobbing on her mother’s shoulder for what seemed like a long time.
Two wounded soldiers passed by, one limping slightly, the other with a bloody cloth wrapped around his wrist. As they disappeared toward the Hebrew camp, Karmot asked, “How do you think they will deal with us?”
Rahab considered this question for the first time, and she had no answer.
Kemil stretched out to lie on the ground. “Who knows?”
“With good luck we will become their slaves,” Yassib said.
“Yes,” Karmot agreed, nodding. “That is my hope also. We must try to stay together as much as possible. I want the older—”
“I would rather die than become a slave,” Sanda wailed.
“Did anyone invite you to speak?” Karmot’s voice was calm as he fixed his eyes on Sanda. “If you truly want to die, walk down the road and into the burning city. No one will stop you.” He gestured toward the fields. “Or make your way into unknown territory. In either case, you will get your wish soon enough.”
Sanda ducked her head and curled close against Bilda’s back.
“As I was saying,” Karmot continued. “Older children, do what you can to stay with the younger ones. Naturally, Yassib is responsible for his son. Kemil, you look after Sanda. And Rahab, take care of Masula.” He brushed away a tear as if it were a troublesome insect. “Your mother and I will attempt to remain together. Under no circumstances are you to make any attempt to protect her or me. Do you understand what I say?” He looked around. “We have lived our lives. Save yourselves and each other if you are able.”
Shadows lengthened while smoke continued to rise from the ruins of Jericho. Occasionally a group of Hebrew soldiers walked by, returning to their camp. Some paid no attention to the family sitting under the tree, but others cast curious glances their way. “I have yet to see a cart carrying their spoils,” Kemil remarked.
“I wonder about that also,” Karmot said. “Is it possible the fire got out of control before they had a chance to search out fine clothing and jewelry?”
“The soldiers who brought us out of the city said they were under strict orders to take no possessions except things made from metal,” Yassib said. “Do you remember?”
Kemil sat up and laughed. “Surely you are not taken in by what they said, Brother.”
Yassib shrugged. “Then why no carts?”
“Perhaps they have none.” Kemil tossed a pebble into the air and caught it. “They live in tents, after all.”
Another cadre of soldiers walked by, singing an unfamiliar song. A straggler behind the group looked toward the tree. “Are you the family of Rahab the harlot?” he asked.
“We are,” Karmot replied.
Innkeeper is a more polite description, Rahab thought. She felt she ought to stand out of respect to the soldier, but the dead weight of Masula sleeping in her lap prevented swift movement.
The man saluted. “The Lord be with you,” he said, and marched on.
“Strange,” Karmot muttered.
The sun was low in the afternoon sky when a group of men walked toward the tree from the direction of the Hebrew
camp. When they turned aside from the road, Karmot said softly, “Be strong, my children.” Everyone followed Karmot’s lead and stood to face the approaching men.
Rahab put a hand on Masula’s shoulder, hoping to survive long enough to assure this little girl grew to womanhood. Despite her responsibility for her sister, she was fully prepared to die if the Hebrews expected her to pleasure their men. During the hours she sat watching her home burn, Rahab made a solemn vow never again to practice harlotry.
“Greetings,” the tall, handsome young man said. Rahab recognized his voice, then his face. He was dressed quite differently than he had been for battle, now wearing a finely woven tunic with a blue stripe around the hem. “I am Salmon, son of Nahshon, the Prince of Judah.” Every resident of Jericho knew how to react in the presence of royalty. As one, all family members dropped to a crouch with their foreheads touching the ground. “No! Stop. Arise, please,” Salmon said. Rahab warily stood, followed by Karmot, then Bilda and her brothers and sisters. “We bow only to the Lord.” He nodded to Karmot. “You are the head of the family, sir?”
“I am, Your Majesty,” Karmot replied.
“Please call me Salmon. I am not the kind of prince found in your country. I wish to express my gratitude for the assistance Rahab gave to Benjamin and me in Jericho. It was through her help we escaped capture. Now we have repaid our debt by rescuing you. There is a tent just outside the perimeter of our camp where you may take shelter tonight. Tomorrow, I will send a representative to explain the laws under which we live. Afterward, your family can join with our people and become a part of the Hebrew nation or you may go in peace. It is your decision.”
“Thank you,” Karmot said. Despite the earlier admonition, he fell to his knees. He took Salmon’s hand and kissed it. “Thank you, kind sir.”
Salmon tugged at Karmot’s hand, pulling him to a standing position. He put an arm around Karmot. “Shall we gather your things and go?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
The Scarlet Cord Page 12