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

by Carole Towriss

  Could Tirzah and the girls be that for him? Could she be part of his life forever? They needed a man to provide for them, to keep them safe. He needed a purpose.

  Not to mention what she did to his pulse every time she looked at him with those honey-colored eyes.

  9 Tammuz

  A falcon soared overhead. Its incessant chirp drilled into Gaddiel’s ears. The sun pounded on his head. The ridge road—the way of the patriarchs, from Bethlehem, through Jerusalem, to Abraham’s ancient home in Shechem—was rocky, uneven, and full of holes. He had to watch his feet carefully to keep from stepping into one, or several. Why couldn’t this be over with? So he could be safely back in his tent?

  For the last several days, as they marched away from the soaring walls of Hebron, all he could think about was its dreadful giants. Their massive arms. Legs. Chests. Fear clutched at his throat, making it hard to draw in a complete breath. His stomach ached. He forced his mind to think of something else.

  Joshua. How could Joshua and Caleb so glibly insist they could defeat such monsters? Those giants were not human. They must be children of Lucifer, no matter what Caleb said, and that meant they could never be defeated.

  Once again he yanked his thoughts back, intent on keeping them away this time.

  Ahead, Palti and Igal trudged on.

  Gaddiel stepped up his pace to join them.

  “It’s not as bad as you say. There were no giants in Jerusalem.” Palti swung an arm back toward the city.

  Igal spread his hands wide, twisted toward the other two. “That we could see. We didn’t go in because there’s no way in there!”

  Palti huffed. “Yes there is. It’s not impossible, it’s just difficult. More difficult than we need to endure for a scouting mission.”

  “Valleys too deep on three sides—there’s no way anyone could approach without being seen,” said Gaddiel. “We’d be dead before we were halfway down, let alone back up. Giants or no giants, that city is impenetrable.”

  “Still doesn’t affect our mission,” said Palti.

  “Why do we need to keep going if we already know we can’t succeed?” Igal spun around and walked backward. “Why keep walking, day after day, in this heat, up and down mountains, looking out for giants, enemies … all so we can go back to say we can’t win?”

  So was Igal turning out to be his biggest ally, and not Palti? “He’s right.” Gaddiel pointed to Igal. “We’re wasting time. But as long as Joshua is in charge, there’s not a thing we can do about it.”

  Palti glared at him.

  “Well, what do we do abou—” Igal stumbled and his arms flailed. He balanced on one foot for a long moment until he lost his purchase and tipped off of the mountain, limbs waving in all directions.

  “Igal!” Gaddiel started forward, then stopped and studied the ground before him. It wouldn’t do any good to go tumbling after Igal.

  Igal slid to a hard stop on the rocky ground. He lay there a moment, unmoving.

  Gaddiel picked his way down the slope, and was relieved to hear his friend moan. He knelt beside him, sliding his hands along Igal’s arms and legs, feeling for broken bones. When he touched Igal’s left wrist, the man cried out.

  Igal pulled himself to sit up, still groaning. “Let go! That hurts.” He swatted Gaddiel away and cradled his wrist against his chest. He tried to stand but couldn’t rise without using his hands.

  “You’ve sprained it, maybe broken it. Let me help you.” Gaddiel grasped Igal under the arms and pulled him up. He helped him back up the slope, and then Igal shook him off.

  Gaddiel held out his hand. “Let me see it.”

  Igal glared, but placed his arm in Gaddiel’s palm. Gaddiel gently ran his finger and thumb along the bones in Igal’s forearm and down into his hand. “I don’t think it’s broken, but it’s badly sprained. You should put it in a sling and let it rest. Don’t use it for a couple of weeks.” He motioned to Palti. “Help him make a sling. I’ll be back.”

  Marching up the road toward Joshua, Gaddiel opened and closed his fists and clenched his jaw.

  He reached Joshua, grabbed his arm, and spun him around. “Now it’s gone too far. People are getting hurt.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Igal. He just slipped and fell halfway down the mountain. He nearly broke his wrist.”

  Joshua jerked his arm away. “How did that happen? Wasn’t he watching where he was walking?”

  “It happened because we shouldn’t be out here at all.” Gaddiel breathed harder, he raised his voice, he flailed his arms—he lost control in front of everyone, but he didn’t care. “We should have turned around at Arad, or at least at Hebron. We are accomplishing nothing here. We’re just wasting time and now it’s become dangerous. We need to go back.”

  Joshua planted his feet. “We are completing the mission Moses sent us to do.”

  “Are you going to keep on until someone ends up dead?” Gaddiel threw his hands in the air.

  “No one will die if we do what we are supposed to do.”

  Gaddiel took a deep breath and calmed himself. “No one was supposed to get hurt, either.”

  “I don’t understand. Why must she marry her brother-in-law? It makes no sense.” Kamose followed Moses as the old shepherd wandered through the flock.

  “Kamose, this is an ancient custom, a custom that has kept our society—and many other tribal societies—alive and flourishing for hundreds of years. Survival of the tribe, the clan, the family, is paramount. The point is to ensure the name of the man is not lost, that his family is not ended. It is also meant to protect the woman.”

  “How so?”

  Moses looped his staff over his arm and knelt to caress a lamb nuzzling his feet. “Having a child is, for women, what is most important. This arrangement makes sure she has that child, especially a son. A husband will care for her now, but a son will be there for her in her old age. And since a woman cannot inherit, this assures that she will remain part of the family she married into. Her only other options are to return to her father’s family, where she will likely be treated as a burden, or choose a disgraceful profession.”

  Appalling, revolting images stole into Kamose’s mind. He blocked them. “And if she refuses?”

  Moses stood, the lamb in his arms. “I don’t know. I’ve never known anyone to refuse. I’ve never known any man to refuse, either. It’s considered extremely dishonorable. To refuse is to cause your own brother’s memory and family to be wiped from the earth. But from the little I know, Gaddiel is far from an honorable man.”

  The lamb stretched his nose toward Kamose, bumping his arm.

  Kamose frowned at the mewling animal. “And Nathaniel. He grabbed her, hurt her. I believe he would have struck her.”

  “Well, normally she couldn’t marry anyone else unless Gaddiel and then Nathaniel released her. But if he hurts her … I must talk to Yahweh about this.” Moses put down the lamb and faced Kamose.

  “Have you decided how you are to tend sheep?”

  “You mean what I should do here?”

  Moses nodded.

  “Not yet.”

  Moses’s gray eyes held his for a long moment, as if he knew Kamose wasn’t being completely honest. He reached down to pat the lamb’s fluffy head, then strolled away.

  Kamose bent and uprooted a stringy desert flower. He picked off the tiny leaves one at a time as he walked.

  He had never met a more complicated woman—a more complicated person—in his life. She was not just pretty; she was beautiful. Her eyes could make him forget what he had intended to say. She was tall and slender, and the way she walked made his heart race. The sash on her tunic always seemed to slip just below her waist, accentuating her curvy hips. …

  A moan escaped his throat. The last time he’d thought about a woman like this he was barely a man himself. He’d admired the physical attributes of many women, but only when they were standing before him. None had ever captivated his mind like this one, keep
ing his thoughts prisoner even after she’d left him.

  He wrapped, unwrapped, rewrapped the leafless stem around his index finger. It wasn’t just her beauty that drew him. He admired her willingness to stand up for herself, her refusal to bend to what was expected of her if she found it repugnant. Gaddiel was surly, arrogant and demanding. Little wonder she didn’t want to marry him, or Nathaniel. But where did that leave her? How would she survive in the new land? What about the girls? Israel, he was learning, operated very differently than Egypt.

  Marriage would have made her life easier, especially since leaving Sinai. Twins at this age must be difficult. She was a strong woman to handle it all alone. Packing up every day, walking, gathering manna, chasing after the girls, cooking, let alone handling Gaddiel’s demands. No wonder she appreciated Ahmose’s help.

  His finger began to throb and he realized he’d wrapped the green stem so tightly the blood was no longer flowing. The tip of his finger was red and swollen. He yanked the string off and shook his hand.

  She said there was nothing he could do. He could certainly help her care for the girls. He and Ahmose together. Perhaps that was one of the tasks Yahweh had for him. It wasn’t particularly taxing or exciting, and certainly not worthy of his skills as Egypt’s captain of the guard, but it was set before him and he was capable. He had nothing better to do.

  And since he found her endlessly fascinating as well as unbelievably lovely, it was a task he would definitely enjoy. He wouldn’t admit it to Moses, but he had found his task. He would help Tirzah as much as he could.

  And he would do everything in his power to make sure Nathaniel never touched her again.

  Eight

  10 Tammuz

  The small contingent stopped on the road a few hours south of Shechem. The midday sun poured out heat, baking Gaddiel as if he were a barley loaf in an earthen oven. In the delta there had always been shade and abundant water. The heat never came close to this degree of agony. Even in the desert, the shimmering cloud had protected them, offering relief from the sun without casting a shadow—Yahweh’s mercy in the summer and warmth in the cold.

  Until now.

  Gaddiel drew the back of his hand across his forehead and shook off the sweat. A drop landed on a blue-headed lizard, which skittered away across the rocks at his feet.

  Caleb knelt in the dirt. The others circled around him. “We should reach Shechem by mid-afternoon. It sits between Mount Gerazim and Mount Ebal and is heavily fortified. Or at least it was in Abraham and Jacob’s day. I can’t imagine it’s changed much.” He drew two circles and some lines in the dirt. “The ridge road we’re on leads us out of the mountains to Shechem. First we reach Mount Gerazim. Shechem is on the northeast side in a valley. Then the road continues to Mount Ebal. Another road goes west and then turns south to Egypt, while yet another road leaves Shechem and goes to Lake Kinnereth.”

  Near the back of the group, Gaddiel scoffed. “He thinks he knows everything. It’s grating.”

  Palti frowned. “Abraham lived in Shechem. Jacob and his sons, too. Don’t you know your own history?”

  Gaddiel glowered at Palti. “You know what I mean.”

  Palti grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “No, I don’t. I don’t know why you are so irritated. Neither Caleb nor Joshua has done anything to you. Yet you continually behave as if they have offended you in some way.”

  “They have offended me! I should be leader, not Caleb, and certainly not this child Joshua. They could at least let me help make the decisions instead of ordering me around like everyone else. I am not everyone else.”

  Shammua shushed them over his shoulder.

  “And why just you?” Palti lowered his voice, but his anger came through loudly. If they let you help, they’d have to let everyone in.

  And you forget, Yahweh told Moses who should lead.”

  “So he says.” Moses, Moses, Moses. Yahweh only talked to Moses.

  The rest of the group followed Caleb as he marched down the road.

  “That is dangerous talk. I refuse to listen to it.” Palti moved forward.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m just angry.” Gaddiel couldn’t afford to lose Palti’s support. He thought quickly. “I heard Moses promise them—Caleb and Joshua—their pick of the best land if we finished the mission successfully and brought back the ‘right’ information—a way to conquer the land.”

  Palti turned, frowned. “He did?”

  “Why do you think they keep pushing so hard, make sure we keep going, insist we can conquer those giants twice our size? They’ll say anything, sacrifice anything … anyone.”

  Gaddiel walked on and left Palti drowning in the false knowledge he had just thrown him in. He turned around and walked backward a few steps. “Don’t say anything, though.”

  Palti nodded and trudged forward.

  Gaddiel spun around and smiled. This was going to work.

  Several scorching hours later, atop Mount Gerazim, Gaddiel studied the city below them. Shechem sat in a small valley at the crossroads of the two heavily traveled highways in Canaan. Dreadfully vulnerable in such a position, its inhabitants had centuries before built a formidable double wall featuring a triple gate.

  How would they ever get through?

  Joshua drew in a deep breath. “I don’t think we need to get very far into the city. We can see from here what we need to know.”

  “Agreed,” Caleb said. “We’ll just pass through, but look around to make sure we haven’t missed anything we need to explore more closely.” Caleb caught the eye of each spy and then headed down the mount.

  Gaddiel caught Palti’s sleeve as he stepped off. “See? No conversation with anyone but themselves.”

  Palti set his lips in a thin line.

  Shammua came up behind them. “What are you talking about?”

  Gaddiel raised his brow in a warning, then followed the other nine. After a few steps, he threw a quick look over his shoulder. Palti whispered furiously to Shammua.

  Perfect.

  At the busy intersection, dust-covered traders arriving from Egypt stood in lines at the enormous triple gate. Some led shaggy camels laden with stacks of linen and papyrus. Other animals carried baskets of gold and silver jewelry. Some unloaded crates of alabaster vases carefully packed in straw. All awaited inspection by the armed guards at the front of the line.

  The spies sauntered past the doorkeepers. Gaddiel smiled and shook a pouch on his belt filled with a few coins, but mostly broken pottery to provide something for the coins to clink against. As soon as he was safely inside the door he let out a breath. He would have leaned against a wall for support but too many people were watching. Keep acting like you know what you’re doing.

  More vendors headed back out the gates with Canaan’s jugs of wine, scented oil, and date honey. Still more left for points north and south with Shechem’s local grapes, olives, wheat, livestock, and widely sought-after pottery.

  Gaddiel took stock of the city, like the good spy he was. At least the inhabitants here weren’t giants. Those walls, though. He craned his neck. They weren’t any smaller than the ones at Hebron or Arad. And there were two of them, one inside the other.

  He wandered along pleasant lanes filled with stalls. A young woman held out a bunch of deep purple grapes, fairly bursting with juice. He waved her off, but she smiled at him. He pointed to his pouch and shook his head. She shoved the fruit at him, smiling more broadly. Was she flirting with him?

  He reached for the grapes, and she grabbed another bunch and turned her attention to another trader.

  Just a free sample. Even better. He ambled on. The aroma of baking bread, hot pistachios, and roasted lamb filled his nostrils and made his mouth water. He pulled out his pouch. Only a few coins, and he wasn’t supposed to spend them. They were to be used to prove they were traders.

  So said Caleb. But Caleb wasn’t there, and Gaddiel was starving. He sniffed the air and headed for the meat.

  The vend
or was an old man, with thick curly hair all over his face and none on his head. His hands were filthy, but Gaddiel’s stomach was rumbling. He glanced down the row, and noticed another stall of roast lamb, this one manned by a young girl with light brown curls tumbling out of a dark blue headscarf. An even younger boy, perhaps her brother, tried to help, but only succeeded in getting in her way, nearly tripping her.

  Gaddiel made his way toward the stall and slithered toward the front of the table, waiting until a crowd formed and the girl appeared flustered. When two traders argued with her over a transaction, he contemplated grabbing a chunk of meat and slipping it under his trader’s cloak.

  Before he could work up the courage, the girl stood before him, holding a fair-sized piece of meat wrapped in cloth. She pointed to the old man and shook her head, curls bouncing, then back to herself and her lamb and nodded. Guess she wanted him to buy her meat, not the other vendor’s.

  Too late now to try to steal it, with her staring right at him. The few coins he had were supposed to be saved to make sure they could gain entrance to the other cities along the way, but that mutton smelled so good ….

  Gaddiel looked at the other stall and then at the girl. He shrugged and dug into his pouch, then gave her a coin. She handed over the food and smiled, and then stepped away to tend to other customers.

  Other stalls were selling fruit and bread, and he used one more precious coin. He found a spot in the shade and slumped against the wall, then ripped off some meat and ate it with his freshly baked bread. He could barely keep from moaning as he savored the flavors.

  He used his sleeve to wipe away the evidence on his mouth on his way back to the front of the city. His heart sank again like a turtle ducking under the Nile at the sight of the foreboding triple gate.

  Shechem’s inhabitants might be very friendly, but it was still a city they would never conquer.