But could they convince the recluse builder to return? Her mother had been coy about what sent him away. Although she had prayed to God for workers, and if this was an answer to her prayer, she would be a fool to refuse it. When it came to her petitions, God’s silence had been deafening. Maybe that was about to change?
“Why did I have to come along?” Judith sipped from a waterskin, replaced the top, and slung it over her shoulder. “My legs aren’t accustomed to climbing.”
Adah bent over and braced her hands on her knees. She breathed deep. “And I don’t usually search for plants in caves.”
“Maybe we should try.” Othniel’s forehead wrinkled into a scowl as he scanned the drought-cursed soil. “The lower fields can’t even sprout tares.”
Uncapping her own waterskin, Adah took a quick drink. “Even up here nothing has caught my eye.”
Othniel grinned and stroked his jaw. “Nothing?”
She nearly choked. The gleam in Othniel’s eyes sparked a warm flutter in her belly. “Not one leaf.” Should she confess her growing fondness for Zipporah’s fifth son and work by his side while he repaid a debt?
Judith stared at the incline ahead with a crinkled nose assessment. “How much farther?”
“Until we find our builder or his bones. There are caves at the top of this hill.” What she wouldn’t give for a whiff of lavender and lily to ease the headache created by all her sister’s whining.
Shielding his face, Othniel pointed east. “A branch has been broken this direction.” He trudged toward a rocky cliff. “We will begin our search over here.”
Adah held out her hand to her sister. “Coming?”
Judith fingered her embroidered head covering and left a streak of dirt behind. “When we reach the entrance, you go inside.” Judith crouched on the trail leading down the incline and back to town. “I’ll stay out here and keep watch.”
Adah followed after Othniel. She wasn’t about to force her sister into the cave. A break from the discontent would be a cinnamon balm.
Peeking into the first opening, Adah shouted Telem’s name. The darkness echoed her summons. Were they even close to where the man lived?
Othniel emerged from another cave. Hands on his hips, he surveyed the height of the catacombs. “Hiding places abound in these cliffs.” He strode toward a fissure in the rocks. “On we go to the next hole.”
A flash of shadow banished the sun. Movement near a high boulder caught her attention. “Telem?” The shout of his name scorched her throat. “I am the daughter of Shallum. From Jerusalem.”
“Telem. Show yourself.” Judith’s screech was shrill enough to cause vultures to flee. “I have a stew to prepare. Goat meat with figs await.”
“For all her complaining, your sister is showing some wisdom. The offer of food may be our best strategy to lure him out.” Othniel braced his hands against a small opening in the cliff. “I am night blind in these pits.” Instead of ducking into the rock, Othniel turned toward the path they had climbed. He stilled and stared.
A few heartbeats later, she heard it. Hoof beats. Closing in fast.
Othniel motioned for her and Judith to join him at the cave’s opening.
Adah ran and grabbed her sister’s hand. “I believe someone heard your summons, but I doubt Telem owns a herd of horses.” The catacombs molded into a mass of brown as she tugged Judith toward Othniel. His gesturing was but a blur.
Holding her breath, Adah’s heart rallied and drummed in her ears. She became the first to dive into unsurveyed darkness. The tight opening snagged her linen veil, but soon the overhang gave way to an expanse that allowed her to turn and pull Judith through the rock entrance.
Facing the light of day, Othniel shimmied feet first into the cave, whacking the dirt with his turban as if he were under attack.
Our sandal prints. Reaching forward, she placed a hand atop Othniel’s curls to keep his head from scraping the tight entry. The wave of his hair was like a silk scarf between her fingers. The softness sent a shiver across her skin. Could her friend fend off these riders if they meant ill? Oh to be back in her workshop in her finger-stained life before Nehemiah arrived in her city.
“Remind me to stay home next time,” Judith whispered against her earlobe. “Builder or no builder.”
Men’s voices echoed in the clearing outside the caves. Had they seen Othniel? Foreign gibberish filled their talk, but a few Hebrew words lingered in their commands.
“We must go deeper,” Othniel whispered. He placed her hand on his waist. “Take hold of my tunic.”
Adah grasped his coarsely woven garment. What should have been a fitted tunic hung loose. Curse this drought and famine.
She gathered the excess cloth. Blinking, she tried to keep her fingers from grazing Othniel’s back, but she gently bumped him. Her knuckles rested against his muscular flesh. She would have sworn she stood at a fire’s edge. Warmth spread up her arm from where she held onto him.
Othniel stiffened then relaxed.
Judith latched onto Adah’s cloak with a talon-sharp grip.
“Not so tight. I must breathe.” Adah kept her voice low.
“Who can see in this hole?” Judith loosened her grip.
Holding her hand to his side, Othniel moved forward. “We must ease away from the opening in case a scout ventures inside.”
She and Judith plodded in Othniel’s wake. Darkness closed in around them as they navigated what seemed to be a tunnel. Adah’s arm loosened dirt from one wall as she trudged forward. With her other hand, she felt the coolness of rock. She now knew what it was like to be entombed.
Judith burrowed her head against Adah’s back. “If anything crawls on me, I will scream and wake the dead.”
Adah shrugged to loosen the pinch of her collar. “I would much rather have a skink slither across my sandal than a strange man touching my dress.”
“We may have both,” Judith said.
“Shh.” Adah blocked the thought from her mind.
Othniel slowed his pace. She heard the tap of his sandal upon the ground testing their route. What she wouldn’t barter for a ribbon’s width of light. They had fled into a starless expanse of night.
Muffled shouts sounded behind them. Were the foreigners in the cave?
Her skin pimpled and sent a shiver throughout her whole body.
“There is a breeze ahead.” Othniel’s voice held a hint of hope. “Perhaps there is an opening. We might even have more room to maneuver.”
In a few shuffles, cooler air dampened her nostrils. Her chest hungered for more breaths. A strange scent like diluted vinegar hung in the new expanse of cave. Had something died recently? She nestled her face into her head covering and tried to lift her sandalwood and chrysolite beads toward her nose.
“When can we return home?” Judith kept a steady grip on Adah’s shoulder. “Surely those men will not venture too deep into these catacombs.”
“I don’t know.” Concern weighed on Othniel’s words. “What is there to scout in these hills? The city is unprotected. Who would send riders?”
“Samaritans,” a deep voice grumbled.
Adah’s heart seemed to loosen from its chamber while Judith slammed into her.
“Telem?” The name flew from her lips like a startled lark.
A mad cackling sent a chill plummeting down her spine.
“You summon me like a dog and now you go silent? What were you expecting? The voice of God?”
At this moment, she would prefer it.
7
They had found Telem, but if this recluse was an ally, why did he not show himself until they were wrapped in total darkness with scouts in pursuit? At least he had answered with a word and not a weapon. When her mother had spoken of Telem, a gentle assurance clung to every remembrance. Adah trusted her mother’s wisdom, so for the moment she would trust her mother’s mason.
She shushed Telem’s raucous laughter. “We are the daughters of Shallum. Our mother Elisheba sent us to find you
.” Adah babbled to the ceiling, for Telem’s voice echoed above all of their heads.
“What could an official’s wife need with me? I have not resided in the city for years.”
“Some help.” Judith’s voice was but a squeak.
“Your stone craft.” Othniel spoke as if this were common knowledge.
“Both.” Adah swallowed to provide her parched throat with an oasis of water. “The governor of Judah has petitioned the people to rebuild the wall of the city. My father has no sons to labor on our section. He has two daughters. We need your expertise to rebuild and also to find a way out of this cave.”
“Nehemiah is here?” Telem asked.
Was Telem ignoring their plight? “Yes, the governor arrived with the king’s cavalry a few days ago.”
Telem scuffed closer. “Then that explains why those half-breeds scout the city. They are threatened by the governor’s arrival.”
Othniel’s head shook. “Nehemiah did not bring an army to fight all of Samaria. He has a small escort.”
“Doesn’t matter—”
Rocks skittered along the path they had recently traveled.
“Can you run?” Telem’s inquiry was close to her ear.
“Yes,” she and Judith answered in unison.
Othniel stepped in front of her and Judith, guarding them like a sentry. “We will hurry after you.”
“The path ahead is well traveled,” Telem said. “Trust your footing and stay close.”
Adah trailed after Othniel, nearly breaking into a run, her hand practically stitched to his garment. Judith’s grip was a constant vice on Adah’s shoulder. How could Telem see to bank left and right in pure darkness? His form was almost a vapor. Adah blinked, but her eyes were useless.
When they finally stopped, Adah’s chest heaved for want of air. “Are we safe?” She exhaled.
“No one will find us now. And if they light a torch, bats will swarm them.”
Telem’s confidence calmed her worries.
Judith’s forehead rested upon Adah’s shoulder. “Did he say bats?”
“Do not think about the rodents. Be strong and courageous.” Adah stroked her sister’s hand. This darkness was no different than the black abyss their mother lived in every day. They would emerge from this gloomy cave soon enough.
“Are these the only foreigners you’ve seen?” Othniel asked.
“Besides you?” Telem chuckled.
Adah did not laugh at their guide’s humor. Her knees grew unsteady at the thought of meeting soldiers. “We are not foreigners.”
“True.” Telem’s tone sobered. “I do not see many men in these hills. A bandit or two. But if the governor is serious about fortifying the city, other enemies will come.”
Warmth flooded her cheeks. How could this recluse question Nehemiah’s determination? She had seen the cupbearer weeping over the wall. “The governor is steadfast. Timber from the king’s forests has been arranged and Nehemiah has been granted a leave of his duties at the palace. Families have committed to rebuild sections of the wall.”
“That is why we seek you.” Othniel’s charge held no hint of their dire need.
Telem scoffed. “I am no relation.”
“No you are not, but my mother spoke highly of you.” Adah swore the thump of her heart could be heard in town. She prayed Telem would honor her request for she needed his skills to uphold her oath to Nehemiah, to her people, and to her God. “Why would an official’s wife send us to you if you could not help?”
“I can only guess.” Telem’s tone was as dull as the rock he hid under.
“My mother saw you in a dream, a vision. She said you owe her a debt.”
“Why else would we be in this pungent tomb,” Judith snapped.
Adah’s chest burned as if she had forgotten to breathe. “I know my mother. She would not have sent us if she did not believe you would honor her request. Bevakasha, please come with us. My father is old. My mother is blind. We are young and emboldened, but we have never built anything. Not a wall that can withstand war.”
Nothing came forth. No explanation. No assurance. No excuse.
“Leave him,” Othniel snapped. “He prefers to wallow in filth.”
Was there ever a time Othniel hurled curses? She could not remember an incident.
Othniel stiffened under her touch. “Will you at least assist me in escorting the women back to the city?”
Back to Jerusalem? This couldn’t be the end. She needed Telem’s expertise. She had come all this way upon her mother’s urging because God had sent a vision. Or a thought. Or something. What would she do without a master builder?
Adah’s chest tightened, but not from Judith’s pull on her cloak. Darkness shrouded her desperation. For once, not being able to be seen wasn’t a curse.
An odd clicking noise came from where Telem hid. “I’ve numbered more than a dozen men. We cannot go out the way we came.”
“Isn’t there another way?” Her voice was too high pitched even for her own ears. “Do these caves join together or something?” Anything? Tiny sparks blurred Adah’s impaired vision. How would she get Judith home? And Othniel?
“You may thank the Jebusites, daughters of Shallum, for they built tunnels under the city that allowed David and his fighting men into the bowels of Jerusalem. This one goes just north of the main gate before it collapses.”
Praise God. “My mother will fret if we’re delayed past night fall.”
Judith gave a weary sigh. “How long is this journey to freedom? I am covered in dirt.”
Shuffling noises came from where Telem loomed. “Then I will light a lamp to carry.”
“You’re only doing that now?” Othniel’s huff sounded like a storm wind.
“We were too close to the opening before. Should I have invited the bandits in for some wine?” Telem made striking noises.
“The lamp will not draw creatures?” Judith fluttered a hand above their heads as if they were already under siege.
“We won’t carry an open flame.” Telem chuckled.
Trying to diffuse tension and keep in Telem’s hospitable graces, Adah asked, “Where do you get the oil for the lamp?”
Clitch, clitch. “I trade.”
“With what?” She hadn’t seen jugs or vessels in the cave.
“Meat.”
Judith wrapped her arm around Adah’s waist with a force that could have burst her waterskin.
A small blaze erupted in the tunnel. Flames consumed dried grass.
Finally some light.
Adah clamped her eyes shut from the brightness and slowly opened them. Her guide, mason—this stranger—crouched on the tunnel’s dirt floor, his hair dangling awfully near the embers. His face was shrouded by his mane. The lamp wick sucked in the fire. Telem stomped on the smoldering grass and then held the oil lamp high.
Was Telem a man or a beast? She would have sworn he peeked from under a bramble bush. Telem stood a hand taller than Othniel and, from the looks of the man’s tunic, he may have bartered for oil, but he didn’t own a wash basin.
Othniel stepped backward pressing Adah and Judith closer to the cave’s wall.
Telem regarded Othniel with interest. He smirked at his young challenger.
She blinked at Telem and tried to behold him in the dim halo of light that banished the dark. The scent of fire pit ash irritated her nose. With a nod, she tried to show respect to the man her mother recalled with fondness.
Judith peered around Adah’s loosened veil, still gripping her sister like a vice. No complaint came about being the one farthest from their host and wedged against juts of dirt and clay.
Telem gasped. “Tabitha!” He leapt like a startled lion, dodging Othniel, and closing in on Judith. “Elisheba has returned you to me.” He stared dumbstruck at her sister like he beheld a medium’s ghost.
Adah straightened. Her heart may have broken a rib, for pain shot through her chest. “This is my twin sister, Judith. Oldest daughter of Shallum.”
>
“’Tis true.” Judith’s voice warbled. “I do not know a Tabitha.”
Telem’s gaze intensified.
Othniel grasped Telem’s wrist. “Show us the way to Jerusalem, or give us the lantern and let us be on our way.”
Adah fisted her hands. Size of a beast or not, this man would not harm her sister.
“Truly.” Judith recoiled further from Telem. “I am not your Tabitha.”
Telem stepped backward, cradling the lamp to his chest and mumbling words Adah could not decipher. In a stupor, he swaggered down the tunnel on the way to what Adah hoped was the city.
What haunted this man? And why did her mother send them to find him? Was this a work of God or foolishness?
Othniel turned to them, eyes wide. “If he tries anything, I will detain him. Run back the way we came.”
“Bandits or a crazed recluse?” Judith’s words were barely audible. “Do we have another choice?”
Adah’s temples pulsed. Did she trust her mother’s intuition about Telem? Did she trust her own? She grabbed her sister’s hand. “I do not believe this man to be dangerous. Seeing you nearly brought him to tears.”
Judith tilted her head. “I could say the same.”
Adah marched after Othniel, who trailed Telem at a distance. Her feet ached for a rest, but she would not stop until she saw the sun set high over the temple. Not two words were uttered by their leader. He remained speechless on their journey. Telem lumbered through the tunnel like a complacent bear, dodging low hanging ceilings and boulders without a misstep.
Why did he seclude himself in these caves? He did not seem mad. He caught game and traded for his needs. He conversed in Hebrew and understood a foreign tongue. Was this Tabitha to blame for his isolation?
They followed Telem’s determined stride until rays of light from an opening in the ground shone into the darkness. Adah would have sworn an angel hovered above the tunnel. Oh, if that were true and a legion of God’s messengers waited to right the wall.
Telem squinted into the sun. “I will give you a foothold so you can climb out.”
Jerusalem Rising Page 5