The Scarlet Cord

by Carlene Havel

  Karmotil’s eyes were open when Rahab awoke with the breaking dawn. “Hungry,” the boy said. “Food for me?”

  “No, little one,” Rahab said. “There is no food this morning.” She felt a twinge of sadness, thinking this was probably the first time Karmotil ever heard such grim news and hoping it was the last. “When we arrive home, Grandmother will feed you well and put a poultice on your sting. Our task is to get there.” She inspected a patch of dried blood on the swollen sole of her nephew’s foot. “Today we will play camel ride.”

  Karmotil smiled and scrambled onto a low stone ledge, all the while favoring his wounded foot. When Rahab turned her back, the boy wrapped his arms around her neck and his legs around her waist. “Tired soldier,” he said, resting his head against the back of her neck.

  “I know what you mean.” Rahab felt weak. Yet thirst overrode her hunger and fatigue. More than anything, she wished for a drink of water. Aligning her path straight at the rising sun, she trudged ahead. Along the way, she watched for a spring of water, a patch of wild berries—anything to sustain herself and her nephew. She found nothing but rocks, dusty plains, and inedible plants. Her prayers progressed from a cry, to a whisper, and then to a mumble to the Lord. Her mind focused sharply on one objective, which was safety for Karmotil. The sun crept to the point where she had no shadow, and then began to slip behind her. Although she feared she was off course, Rahab considered no options but to continue praying and press on.

  At sunset, Rahab saw a dust cloud on the horizon. Perhaps a whirlwind? As she and Karmotil approached the cloud, it seemed to move toward them. Why was she unable to reason clearly? Too late, she realized there was a great mass of people traveling across the plains in such a way their path and hers would intersect. If her feet were swift, she would run in the other direction. However, she did not have the strength to flee. Her only thought was that these people, whoever they were, might have water. She had nothing to barter, no jewelry to exchange for sustenance. She only hoped and prayed these strangers would show compassion, if not to her then perhaps to the child.

  It took longer than Rahab expected to reach the moving crowd. When she began to feel increasingly weak, Karmotil started to cry. “Drink,” he whined. “Hungry.”

  Marshalling all her strength, she continued moving forward. “Not much further, little soldier,” she said. “No need for tears.” At the same moment she realized the dust cloud arose from an army, she noticed four men speeding toward her. “Lord, help us,” were the last words she spoke before falling to the ground. She struggled to rise, but failed. Clutching Karmotil close, Rahab waited. The blue stripe in the soldiers’ tunics became visible before the men’s faces. Then she saw the tassels swaying at the corners of their garments. The shout of gratitude she intended for the Almighty One sounded more like a whisper in her ears. “Hebrews!”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Rahab felt as if she were falling, but when she jumped and opened her eyes, she realized she had been asleep. She was sheltered by a length of linen stretched across two spears jammed upright into the ground. Karmotil sat next to her, eating a chunk of bread. “Where?” she whispered, not able to complete her question.

  A soldier crouched nearby leaned toward her, and then announced, “The woman is awake.”

  A second soldier lifted Rahab’s head and offered her wine. Drinking in the sweetest liquid she ever tasted, she lifted her eyes in gratitude. When she finished swallowing, the man handed her cheese and the same kind of bread Karmotil was eating. “You are a Hebrew woman.” It was more of a statement than a question.

  “Yes,” she said. Her voice sounded thin and weak to her own ears.

  “What tribe?”

  “Judah.”

  “Fetch the Judean captain,” the soldier said to his companion.

  Rahab drank more wine and began to nibble at her bread. Since eating seemed to take a great deal of energy, she rested after only a few bites. “Does your foot hurt?” she asked Karmotil.

  “Man fixed me,” he said between bites of bread. He held up his leg to display a thick bandage. Gratified to see Karmotil in such good spirits, Rahab made the effort to sit up and take more food and drink.

  “The boy can speak,” a soldier squatting nearby said. “He would only point and gesture to us earlier.”

  “He has been taught to remain quiet when I am sleeping,” she replied.

  The word “Rahab!” startled her, as she looked up to see Salmon and Benjamin approaching her makeshift shelter.

  “Your family was searching for you when we left the camp,” Salmon said. “They feared the worst.” He went to sit by Karmotil. “What happened to your foot, son?” he asked.

  “Scorpion,” the boy answered. “It hurt.”

  “I can only imagine,” Salmon said, peeking inside the strips of cloth wound around Karmotil’s foot.”

  “Where is your brother?” Benjamin asked. “The one called Kemil.”

  Rahab sipped her wine. “A day or two’s walk that way.” She pointed away from the sun. “He said we were going to Hittite country.”

  “He will never get there going that direction,” Benjamin said. “Why is he not with you?”

  Rahab took a deep breath and exhaled. She did not want to reveal her brother’s treachery because of the shame, but it appeared she had no choice. “Two or maybe three days ago—I have lost count—Kemil surprised Karmotil and me when we went to the river to draw water just before dawn. He forced us to leave the camp with him.”

  “Do you know why?” Salmon’s deep voice soothed her nerves, but did not make her explanation any easier.

  “He said he would sell us as slaves,” she said. “We waited until he went to sleep, and then we stole away. We have been walking ever since, trying to get home.”

  “How did you find your way?” Benjamin asked.

  Rahab held her forehead in her hand. “I set our course by the sun.”

  “Rest now,” Salmon said. “You have been through quite an ordeal. Tomorrow afternoon the Army will continue on to Ai. I will send some men to conduct you back to the main camp.” He patted Karmotil’s head. “Are you ready to go home, my boy?”

  “Not boy, soldier,” Karmotil replied, patting his chest and causing the real soldiers to laugh.

  As the men withdrew, Rahab realized how frightful she must look. Her scarf lay crumpled on the ground instead of modestly covering her short curls. Dirt caked her feet, and the hem of her tunic was ragged and filthy. She could only guess how much dust clung to her face. She tried to work up some concern about her appearance, but all she felt was the overpowering urge to go back to sleep. By the time she ate her bread, Karmotil’s eyelids were drooping. She rocked him to sleep and put him beside her, covering him with her now tattered scarf. She wanted to pray but could not remain awake.

  Rahab awoke to find a smiling Karmotil watching her. She inspected his foot and asked, “I will go and fetch some water. Sit here. Wait for me.”

  “Me go,” Karmotil replied. When Rahab took his hand, he limped along—walking normally on one foot and mostly on the heel of the other. They went to an ox cart loaded with community water crocks. Rahab wet the end of her scarf and used it to wash Karmotil’s face, hands and feet, then her own. When they returned to their flimsy shelter, two soldiers were waiting with a steaming pot of lamb stew. Rahab found her appetite ravenous. After she feasted on the nourishing broth and vegetables, her thoughts turned to home. Yassib and her parents must be terribly worried about Karmotil.

  Rahab stood and brushed dust from her tunic when Salmon and Benjamin brought two soldiers to her shelter. “Greetings,” Salmon said. “I hope you rested well.”

  Rahab smiled. “Yes, thank you. With a good sleep and the nourishing food you have provided, my nephew and I are ready to continue our journey home.”

  “Yes,” Benjamin said. “We have assigned men to see you safely to the camp.”

  “I have thought on this since you mentioned your plan,” she
said. “May I speak openly?”

  “Certainly,” Salmon replied. He motioned to the two soldiers. “I will call you when they are prepared to depart.” When he settled into a seated position on the ground, Benjamin did the same. Rahab was uncertain whether to sit or stand, and waited until Salmon gestured to her to join them. “Please,” he said. “Is something troubling you?”

  “It does not seem right to take soldiers away from battle for Karmotil and me,” Rahab answered. “The Lord brought us this far. He will not desert us now.”

  “Are you saying you would go on alone?” Benjamin asked. “The child can hardly walk.”

  “I will carry him,” she said, hoping she did not sound ungrateful. “I appreciate your offer to help us. However, if you have a little food we can take, and perhaps a spare sword in case we meet a wild animal, then the soldiers may continue on to fight at Ai. You will need all of your men there.”

  Salmon leaned forward. “How can you find your way to the camp?”

  Rahab used her finger to draw in the dirt, while Karmotil stood leaning on her shoulder, sucking his thumb. “When the army marches to Ai, here, I will go in the opposite direction, toward the camp, there. Before too long, I will see the ruins of Jericho, and from then on I am in familiar territory.”

  “Yes,” Salmon said, looking at the crude map she drew. “If you get off course, correct to your left—east.” He raised his left hand. “When you come to the river, you can follow it to the camp. Most likely you should head downstream, but taste the water first. If it is extremely salty, turn back upstream. Are you certain you want to attempt this journey with only this very young soldier?” He nodded to Karmotil.

  “I am,” Rahab replied. “If the men have the courage to face battle, surely I am able to walk home carrying a child.”

  Salmon smiled. “May the Lord bless you and keep you on your journey, and may He guide you safely home.”

  CHAPTER FORTY

  “Are you certain the woman and child should be allowed to travel alone?” Benjamin asked as soon as he and Salmon were out of Rahab’s hearing.

  “Very little is ever certain,” Salmon said. “It is less than a full day’s walk to the camp for someone not trying to move thirty thousand soldiers along. We have covered only a short distance so far. Besides, when was the last time you met a girl who thinks she can handle a sword?”

  Benjamin chuckled. “She is a brave one, I must admit. I recognized her courage when she helped us in Jericho.” He shook his head. “I pity the lion that wanders across this harlot’s path.”

  “Her name is Rahab,” Salmon said.

  Benjamin cocked an eyebrow. “You like her.”

  “I always admire valor, especially within the tribe of Judah,” Salmon said. “Will you arrange for her traveling provisions while I attend to other business?”

  With the sun beginning to move lower in the sky, Salmon met with nine other tribal leaders on the expedition to go over their battle plan. “Tonight we will split into two companies, and both will move only under the cover of darkness,” Caleb explained. “At Ai, troops from the five tribes under my command will hide themselves behind and to the east of the city. Salmon will deploy Judah and the remaining tribes to the west. It is crucial for us to keep our presence unknown to Ai and all of the people in surrounding cities. Is all clear?”

  The captains murmured their assent, while a mild breeze began to flutter the hem of the command tent’s linen fabric. “I cannot overemphasize the importance of secrecy,” Caleb said. “The sighting of a single Hebrew is enough to spread the alarm and spoil our carefully laid plan.”

  “And what is the plan?” Geba, the eldest of the tribal leaders, asked.

  Caleb held up a hand. “I am coming to that. Joshua will turn our earlier defeat at Ai to our advantage. As soon as we are in place, he will lead a small force in a direct assault on the city’s north gate. When Ai dispatches their army to counterattack, Joshua will retreat. He will draw the king’s men away from the city, into the valley and—unbeknownst to them—exactly where we want them.”

  “Hallelujah!” Geba shouted, with a thrust of his fist into the air. “And then we will crush them like a rabbit in the jaws of a bear!”

  “No.” Caleb shook his head. “Not immediately. We will remain hidden while Joshua and his men break and run into the wilderness. Not one man outside Joshua’s cadre may let his presence be known until Ai is emptied of fighting men. As they pursue Joshua into the woods, we will rise up behind them, enter the city and set it afire. Only then will we attack the enemy army.” For the first time, Caleb smiled. “Then, Geba, we will destroy them in the center of our trap.”

  When every commander reaffirmed his understanding of each detail of the battle plan, Caleb dismissed them. “Go and eat heartily, you and your men. After prayer, we will strike camp and begin tonight’s march. Some of you I will not see again until we take Ai. Be strong and courageous, my brothers. May the Lord be with each of you.”

  Salmon stood with the other captains and brushed the soft earth from his tunic. As he turned to leave, Caleb beckoned to him. “Salmon, I must have a word with you.”

  Since he did not want to appear anxious to depart Caleb’s presence, Salmon sat by the older man.

  “What do you think of Joshua’s plan?” Caleb asked, his eyes fixed on the ground.

  Without delay, Salmon replied, “It is brilliant. With the favor of the Almighty One, we cannot fail.”

  “You see no flaw, then?”

  “Not at all.” Salmon laid a hand on Caleb’s arm. “Surely you know if I had any reservations, I would have spoken up earlier.”

  “Normally. But this evening you are unusually silent.” Caleb pursed his lips and stared for a moment. “Is something troubling you?”

  “There is a matter I have begun to ponder,” Salmon said. “However, it will keep until after the battle.”

  Caleb nodded. “Nothing to slow your arm in our battle at Ai?”

  “No, indeed.” Salmon waited for his father’s old friend to comment. After a long silence, he said, “There are many preparations.”

  “Yes, of course,” Caleb responded.

  “Good evening, then,” Salmon said.

  Old Caleb looked up for the first time. “The Lord keep you until we meet again, over the bodies of our enemies at Ai.”

  In the deepening dusk, Salmon walked toward the area where the Judeans waited. It was his habit to take something to eat while circulating among his troops. Reconsidering each step of the pending battle, he almost walked into Benjamin.

  “You are deep in thought, my friend.” Benjamin smiled. “Pondering the big fight?”

  He clapped Benjamin on the shoulder. “Forgive me. Yes, I am stepping through Joshua’s plan. The Lord willing, we will win a great victory at Ai. What is on the food cart this evening?”

  “Lamb stew, which you will most likely pass up, and good bread you can carry around.”

  Salmon grinned, and tore off a chunk of bread. “Did I mention I sent a soldier home? Joel, the son of Amnon. He accidentally cut his arm sharpening his sword.”

  “He is a good man. Dependable, though not skilled with weapons. It must have been a severe wound,” Benjamin said.

  “No, hardly more than a scratch. Still, I wanted him to go and get it treated.”

  “We have soldiers trained to bandage wounds.” Benjamin stopped and stared.

  “Merely a precaution,” Salmon answered without slowing his pace. “I sent his cousin with him. Good bread. Are the men prepared to begin our night march?”

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  Rahab’s back ached from the weight of her nephew. Only the certainty she was approaching home kept her moving. How relieved Bilda would be to see Karmotil safe and sound. She wondered how to explain Kemil’s behavior, and knew the grief her parents felt for their son if he was still missing. In the distance she saw a dark speck on the horizon—possibly the burnt-out remains of Jericho? Each noiseless step threw u
p a small cloud of sandy earth. How she wished for the sandals still tucked beneath her bedroll in her family’s tent.

  The sound of a man’s voice very near and behind her startled Rahab.

  “Going to the Hebrew camp?”

  She whirled, cast Karmotil gently to the ground, and drew the sword from its scabbard. “Who are you?” she demanded.

  The two men stopped. One held his hands up and away from his weapon. “Abijah, the son of Isaiah.” He nodded to the younger man. “My cousin, Joel, son of Amnon. We are of the tribe of Judah.”

  Acutely aware of her inability to overpower two men and still protect Karmotil, Rahab sheathed her sword and said, “We also are Judeans, or soon will be.” Employing a slightly more subtle tactic, she smiled. “Why are you here? Ai lies behind you.”

  “My agile cousin managed to wound himself before we got half the distance to Ai. So Prince Salmon ordered me to make sure he gets home in one piece. Otherwise, no one will ever hear the end of it from my Aunt Dinah.” Without asking, Abijah lifted the bewildered Karmotil. “You must be Rahab the harlot. We heard you were found.”

  “Yes, I am Rahab.”

  “Me soldier,” Karmotil said.

  “You look like a very good soldier,” Abijah answered. He inspected the boy’s bandaged foot. “Were you wounded in battle?”

  “Scorpion bit me.” Karmotil nestled into Abijah’s arms without question or complaint.