By the Waters of Kadesh (Journey to Canaan Book 2)

by Carole Towriss

  The girls approached the animal, Tirzah behind them. She let them greet the donkey first, but they grew bored quickly and sat to play in the sand. The docile flock ignored them.

  Tirzah stroked the donkey’s nose. “At least Gaddiel let me keep you. Otherwise, I think we’d still be stuck at Mt. Sinai.” She combed her fingers through his mane, straightening the short hair. She drew her hand down his shoulders, his ribs poking up under her palm. “Soon, Benjamin, soon. We’re almost there. All the grass you can eat. And you will never carry anything, ever again.”

  Benjamin nuzzled her, his warm nose digging into her cheek.

  She grasped his mane and led him to the water, pushing her way through other animals and taking him closer to the edge, nearer the softest, greenest grass. Fat, spotted sandgrouse scattered when his feet touched the water. “You need to be more forceful, Benjamin, or you will die of thirst.” She leaned toward him to whisper into his long ears. “You won’t do that, will you? I guess I’ll have to come here every day to make sure you get some water and grass. Until we get to Canaan, anyway.”

  She waited long enough to make sure he drank his fill and ate some soft grass, and then turned back to the girls, who had dumped sand on each other’s head, and now sat giggling. It would take forever to get it out. She groaned. Then she took a deep breath, grasped their hands, and headed for her tent.

  After combing out the sand, making three trips to get water, washing tunics, sweeping out the tents—hers and Gaddiel’s—cooking the midday meal, and cleaning up, Tirzah propped Naomi on her hip and grasped Keren’s hand as she headed east, looking for the meandering river she’d heard connected all the springs. Lined on both sides with date palms, grass, and soft sand, there were a number of places perfect to rest in the shade and escape the worst of the day’s heat. The river was scant enough the girls could wade in it without danger. On the other side of the water, the remains of a rock fall in the distant past were apparent in the felled trees and large rocks lodged up against them.

  She dragged and shoved some crumbling fallen logs into a large, misshapen half-circle bounded by the water so the girls could run without getting out—she had no more energy to chase them today. They had napped after the meal, but she had too much to do. She leaned against a log and closed her eyes.

  Squeals of laughter jolted her awake. A boy, about eight or nine years old, she supposed, chased butterflies with her girls.

  They ran toward her, pointing at tiny flying creatures. “Imma! Look!” Naomi didn’t pay attention to where she was going, tripped over a fallen limb, and went flying.

  The boy dashed to Naomi’s side before Tirzah reached her. “Are you all right?” He searched her knees for an injury. She touched a spot on one knee, and he placed a gentle kiss on it. She raised both arms to him, and he picked her up and carried her off to her sister.

  Tirzah stood there, mouth open, as a little boy cared for her children. Who was he?

  “’Mose! ’Mose, come here!” Keren waved him over to another log. They peered inside a hole, and Keren poked it with a stick.

  “Ahmose!”

  The unfamiliar voice startled her. Tirzah turned to see a dark-haired young woman with a baby in her arms.

  “I’m so sorry if he is bothering you. He makes friends with everyone he sees. And he loves little children.” The visitor shifted the baby to her other arm.

  Tirzah returned to her spot by the log. “Actually, he’s been a blessing, to tell the truth. I must have fallen asleep. I have no idea how long he’s been playing with them.”

  “I’m glad, then. I’m Meri. May I join you?” She stepped over the log and sat down.

  Tirzah studied the girl as she settled herself and the baby. Her slightly darker skin and sharper features revealed she was Egyptian, but she dressed like an Israelite. She spoke decent Hebrew but had a thick accent. “I’m Tirzah. These are my twins, Naomi and Keren. They seem quite taken with …” She gestured toward the boy.

  “That’s Ahmose. He’s sort of my husband’s brother.”

  “Sort of?”

  Meri giggled, her dark eyes shining. “My husband, Bezalel, lived in the palace. Ahmose was a slave there and was often beaten. One day he was beaten so badly Bezalel took him home. Now he lives with us, and with Rebekah—Bezalel’s imma, and with his Uncle Kamose, too.”

  “Bezalel, he’s Israelite?”

  “Yes, he is. He was a slave in the palace as well.”

  “And you, how did you meet your husband?”

  “I … worked in the palace, too. I escaped and we married in Elim. This is Adi, our daughter.”

  “She’s beautiful.” Tirzah touched the baby’s face. “Lovely name.”

  “Bezalel chose it. I’m still learning Hebrew, if you can’t tell.” She giggled again. “He’s an artisan. So a name that meant jewel seemed appropriate.”

  Tirzah thought back to Mt. Sinai for a moment. “Bezalel—he’s the one who built the tabernacle?”

  “The furnishings. Oholiab made the tent and all the cloth articles. And they both had hundreds of helpers. I helped with the anointing oil. I learned to make perfume in the har—, in the palace.” Meri spread a lambskin on the grass between them and laid the baby down.

  Adi cooed, then sucked on her fist.

  Tirzah yawned, covering her mouth with her hand. “Pardon me.”

  “Don’t worry. I know the feeling.”

  “I don’t sleep well at night, I’m afraid. Naomi wakes up a lot.”

  Meri glanced at the twins. “Really? She seems old enough to sleep all night. How old are they?”

  “They were born three summers ago. She should sleep. But ever since we left Sinai, she seems to be plagued by bad dreams. She had them occasionally before that, but now it’s almost every night.” Tirzah studied her hands, playing with her fingernails.

  “Can’t your husband help?”

  “He died at Sinai.”

  Meri’s hand flew to her mouth as a soft gasp escaped.

  “Imma! Bug!” The girls ran toward Tirzah with Ahmose close behind.

  The boy held his hands cupped tightly together. When he caught up with them, he peeled them open. Inside were several round red bugs with black dots. He held one hand flat, and the creatures crawled on his palm.

  The girls squealed with delight, fists waving. Petals from Keren’s handful of wildflowers flew everywhere.

  “Meri, look.” He moved one hand toward her while he pointed with the other.

  Meri poked at the insects. “They’re beautiful, Ahmose. Who are you playing with?”

  “Oh, this one’s Naomi, and that one is Keren.” Keren had already raced off again.

  Meri touched Tirzah’s shoulder. “This is their mother, Tirzah.”

  Ahmose dipped his head. He smiled and looked at her from beneath long lashes. “Is it all right if I play with them?”

  “Of course. It helped me, actually. I didn’t realize I had drifted off to sleep. You may play with them anytime you wish.”

  “I can?” His eyes widened.

  Tirzah chuckled. “Yes. After the midday meal they usually sleep a while, but after that, like today, they’d love to play with you, I’m sure.”

  Ahmose grinned and ran off after Keren, Naomi scampering after them.

  “He’s really good with them, isn’t he?”

  Meri giggled. She seemed to giggle a lot. “Yes, he’s very attentive. We can hardly keep him away from Adi. He just adores her. He has many other friends he plays with, but he seems to have a soft spot for younger children.”

  “So he grew up in the palace?”

  “Until about two years ago. How he managed to keep such a cheery attitude, with everything that happened to him, I will never know.”

  “He’s a sweetheart. And if he wants to play with the girls, he is always welcome. I’m exhausted all the time. I can’t keep up with two of them, let alone getting water, cooking, washing clothes, gathering manna. … When Naomi wakes up all night, I never
get any sleep.” She frowned. “I’m sorry, I’m not usually a complainer. I’m just tired.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I can barely deal with one little one. I can’t imagine two of them, with no one to help.” Meri looked up from her baby, a huge smile on her perfect face, framed by perfect, long dark hair.

  Because your life has probably always been easy. Tirzah glanced to the west at the sinking sun. “It’s nice of you to say so, anyway. I had better go back and prepare the evening meal.” She stood and beckoned to the twins.

  “I hope to see you again. I’d love to have someone to talk to. A lot of people don’t like to talk to me.”

  Tirzah considered the girl. “Why not?”

  Meri shrugged and made a face. “I’m Egyptian.”

  “Well, a lot of people don’t like to talk to me, either. We’d make a good pair.”

  “Why wouldn’t they talk to you?” Meri gathered Adi into her arms.

  “I’m a widow.”

  “That’s not your fault.”

  “Yes, but the fact I’m still unmarried is.” Was it wise to mention this to her, this girl she might never see again, who couldn’t possibly understand? It would bring up more questions than answers.

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “If we see each other again, I’ll explain. For now, I have to go.”

  Tirzah settled Naomi on her hip, grabbed Keren’s hand, and set off for her tent without looking back.

  Three

  11 Ziv

  With the camp arranged by tribe, it wasn’t terribly difficult for Kamose to find each scout. Might as well start in my own section.

  Judah’s spy was Caleb. A few inquiries led him to the man; he was obviously well known—and well thought of—in his tribe.

  Caleb appeared to be a few years older than Kamose, yet still had a full head of dark hair and a strong build. He stood as Kamose approached his tent. “You must be Kamose. Joshua mentioned you.”

  “He asked me to train you before you leave for Canaan.”

  “I think that’s an excellent idea. Please walk with me.” Caleb strolled down the pathway in front of his tent toward Issachar, his hands clasped behind his back. “Joshua told me a little about you. Tell me more.”

  “I have been a soldier my entire life. I joined when I was very young. It’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted to do. I was a charioteer, a foot soldier … I was even on a ship for a while, but I hated it.”

  Caleb laughed.

  Kamose continued. “I’ve been on many advance missions in several lands. The basics are always the same, no matter the terrain or purpose. It’s not complicated as long as you follow a few simple rules.”

  “It sounds like you could be of great value to us.”

  Kamose thought about his young friend. “Joshua does not seem to share your enthusiasm for the mission.”

  Caleb laughed again, a hearty laugh that seemed to come easily and from deep in his chest. “Joshua is young and full of faith. He will one day be a great leader, but he needs to learn patience with others. I, too, believe Yahweh has given us the land, but the men are not as confident. It will do no harm to acquire information. And if we are going to do this, we may as well do it properly. So, what can you teach us?”

  “You will need knowledge of the people, the land, and the cities.” Kamose counted on his fingers as he talked. “Egypt has not warred in Canaan since Ramses was a young pharaoh, but at that time at least some of the cities were walled. Maybe more of them, now.”

  Caleb scratched his beard. “That will be a challenge.”

  “Yes, but there are always ways to find out what you need to know.” Kamose cast him a sideways glance. “Do you know the other scouts?”

  Caleb gave a pensive nod. “They are all leaders of their tribes. Most will give you no trouble. A few think more highly of themselves than they ought.”

  “I’ll find that out soon enough. For now, I have eleven more spies to meet.”

  Kamose had traveled all the way around the camp and the last on his list was the spy from Zebulon, camped on the south side of Judah. When he found Gaddiel’s tent, he was greeted by a tall woman with long, wavy brown hair that fell loosely about her shoulders. She balanced a small girl on her hip, while another sat at her feet.

  “Does Gaddiel live here?” he asked.

  “He does. He should be back soon.” She looked him over, a fact that amused him, as most Israelite women were not quite so bold around men they had not met. “May I offer you water?”

  He nodded.

  She set the child down and stepped inside the tent, returning with a cup of water.

  He downed it in one gulp, surprised to find it cool. “Thank you. Do you bury your water?”

  “Yes. Keeps it a little cooler, but not much.”

  He returned the cup.

  “There he is now.” She pointed to a man approaching then ducked inside the tent, pulling the children behind her.

  Kamose tore his gaze from the woman to Gaddiel.

  “Who are you?” The man halted before him, his arms folded across his chest. He appeared young and strong, but his frown and the glare in his eyes ruined what might otherwise be a pleasant face.

  “I’m Kamose. Joshua has ordered that I give you training before you enter Canaan. We will meet tomorrow morning at the head of the spring.”

  “Joshua ordered?” Gaddiel glowered.

  “Moses has put him in charge of the mission, along with Caleb of Judah.”

  “We don’t need any training. Especially not from you.”

  Kamose suppressed the urge to sigh. This wasn’t the first time today he’d heard this, but this man’s attitude was the most openly hostile. “It’s tougher than it looks. Have you ever gone on a mission?”

  Gaddiel snorted. “As a slave? In Egypt?”

  “I’ve been on several. Come or don’t come; it’s up to you. But if you are caught, you will be killed.”

  He strode away toward Judah quickly. His stomach wanted food and his body needed rest. It had taken most of the day and all of his patience to meet eleven scouts. He only wanted to help. Why was it so difficult?

  He held a long broom bush stem in his hands, repeatedly pulling it though his fingers. His mind returned to the same thoughts that had been plaguing him for weeks. He would give anything to be part of the contingent that would attack Canaan. He could almost taste the dust, the blood, the tension, the strategy. But this battle was not his.

  If he was no longer a soldier, what was he to do for the rest of his life? He’d made peace with his decision to leave Egypt. He was, in fact, convinced it was the only decision he could have made. His life there was over. He could no longer continue as captain of the royal guard. The prince was dead. And while there was nothing he—or anyone else—could have done to prevent that death, he was responsible. The Egypt he knew, had loved and served his entire life, no longer existed. Yahweh had destroyed it.

  He hurled the branch to the ground. He had given up everything to live a soldier’s life. And he’d been a very good one. From charioteer to squad leader to division leader. Stationed in many lands. Head of the army and captain of the palace guard. There was nothing he had not done, no award he had not earned.

  Now everything he’d ever wanted was gone. His glorious past was over. The present was uncertain. His future was … empty.

  Gaddiel yanked at the tent flap. “Tirzah! Get me something to eat.”

  His sister-in-law emerged with a plate of manna cakes and a skin of water.

  He growled. “I should have been the leader. Instead, that child Joshua has been put in charge of the mission. Now I have to listen to an Egyptian tell me how to spy! I know more than all of them.”

  “Well, then perhaps the best course of action is to show up, listen, and wait for an opportunity to show them how much you know. If you stay here, how will they know how clever you are?” She filled his cup and wandered away with her babies.

  Gaddiel paced in
front of his tent. The water did nothing to quench the burning inside him. Caleb and Joshua. Joshua and Caleb. Why must it always be those two? Moses always played favorites. He would have sent his brother Aaron if he weren’t so old. But he couldn’t seem to see past the few people around him that flattered and wooed him. Gaddiel was above that. He was every bit as good a leader as Caleb, and much better than Joshua. Joshua was barely old enough to be considered a man! What was he? Twenty-three? Twenty-four? He wasn’t even married yet. Gaddiel had killed more Amalekites than either of them at Rephidim. Moses only appointed Joshua commander of the Israelite army because his family was slaughtered by the Amalekites. What kind of logic was that? So he’d fought one more battle. A short one, at that, and he’d lost.

  Joshua did a passable job commanding the army, but Gaddiel could have done better. He’d been one of the foremen of the brickmaking teams in Egypt until they promoted a younger man. He knew how to manage men. Before the Hebrews were all kicked out of the place, he’d been a servant for a retired soldier. He knew a few things about spying. But none of that mattered to Moses. Only his precious favorites were rewarded.

  This turn of events would complicate his plan immeasurably. He thought through everything again. He had assumed they would meet in a day or two and choose a leader together, and he had a speech ready. He’d planned to find out who the others were and visit them beforehand, get them all on his side. But that snake Joshua had used his connection to Moses to get himself named leader before the first day was even over. Gaddiel should have known. Now he was behind before the journey had even begun.

  Tirzah was right, though. She was fairly intelligent, for a woman. He wolfed down his food, gulped the water, tossed the plate on the ground, and headed for his brother’s tent farther down the row. He had to come up with a plan. His brother would help—he was good at that sort of thing. He poked his head in the tent. “Nathaniel?”

  “Gaddiel. Why so angry? What happened?”

  “You heard we are sending spies up to Canaan? And I am one of them?”

  “Yes. Is that not a good thing?” He gestured for his brother to come in and sit down.