“Could we pray that one other family has a daughter join their labors?” Adah laughed and kissed her mother’s hands before releasing them. “Perhaps then we would not be the only family discussed over meals.” Slowly she stood and tested her tired legs. “Judith and I may have to work longer days on the wall. I don’t know if Othniel will return to help us. His lands are in need of attention.”
“Oh.” Her mother’s short answer was drawn out and filled with understanding “Then it is a good thing the Lord saw fit to remind me of Telem. We have his service. You do not need to rely so much on Othniel”
“I know. I am glad Telem saw fit to help us.” Adah expected admonishment from her gruff mason. Not from her friend. “It is still not the same.”
“Then your sister and I will do more. Whatever we can.” Her mother sat straighter and leaned forward as if waiting for instructions. “Even though I cannot see, I am here for you. God has not taken my strength. I am able to do His bidding. I can blend more mortar.”
“You can do whatever you want. I am confident in that.” Adah laughed with a renewed spirit. Her mother’s brown eyes sparkled as if sitting in darkness was not a hardship, but a blessing. A knot of emotion tightened against Adah’s ribs. I will not let my family down.
Pressing a kiss to her mother’s temple, she said, “God has provided what we have needed so far. He will not abandon His people.” She strolled to where her newly won sword lay basking in the window’s light. “Although, if we are building this wall forty years from now, I may question God anew.”
13
Even after washing the soot from her skin and soaping her scalp, Adah’s hair still smelled like smoke. Pulling a ringlet taut to her nose, she breathed in fire-tainted cassia and lye. Perhaps laboring in the night air would calm her anger over Sanballat’s tricks. Displaying her newly won sword, she cinched a belt around her tunic and winced. One fairly good-sized splinter had pierced her skin with a vengeance. War had come to Jerusalem’s gates, and a small gash would not keep her from fighting for her city—a city in desperate need of a fortified wall.
She scraped her fingernail over the thin scrap of wood embedded in her palm and hooked enough of an end to pinch and yank it from her flesh. Victory had been hers this day and soon her people would be free from the daily threat of their enemies. She didn’t need Othniel or his brothers to protect her beyond the city wall. God had rewarded her bravery with a fine sword.
Behind the distant mountains, the sun dipped, abandoning the city to a night of unknown threats. She hurried toward her father’s assigned place on the wall. They would need to build faster with enemies lurking in the outskirts of the city. Would more fires be set in the cover of darkness, or did the Samaritans wish to draw blood in the shadows?
Rounding the pile of rubble from the crumbling corner of the vacant house, she breathed in the aroma of boiling sap, Telem’s secret rock coating. She shortened her steps. Her stone mason certainly did not slumber. He was surrounded by Nehemiah, Ezra the priest, Rephaiah, and her father. Othniel was nowhere in sight. Her friend could shout at his brothers all he wanted while clearing debris from his fields.
Rephaiah glanced her direction. What was the ruler of another district doing on this side of the city? Why wasn’t he with his cherished sons building their assigned section?
Her sword lay heavy on her hip. She shifted it toward her back and joined the small band of men, giving a slight bow in a show of respect to her elders. “You are safe, Governor. I feared for you and my father and for everyone who ventured outside the gate.”
Nehemiah’s head bobbed. He reached out a hand as if to withdraw her sword from its borrowed sheath.
Pivoting, she stepped back and clasped a hand to the hilt of her sword.
“It appears I am not the only one who left the confines of the city.” The governor’s cocked head and raised eyebrows suggested a rebuke, but his eyes flashed with a familiarity she saw the night he wept in her presence.
“I went to fight the fires.” Her mind scrambled for more words. Under the perusal of her father, she tried to swallow and choked. “I beat at the flames to save our fields.” Her voice cracked as if she still breathed scorched air. Her gaze fell on every man in the huddle. “A raider lost his sword when his horse spooked. He prized his horse more than his weapon. So now his blade will keep us safe.”
“That soldier may return.” Nehemiah glanced at an opening in the piled rock. “For now the city is quiet, but we will need guards along the wall. Where rubble is strewn about, keen eyes must keep watch.”
“We are spread far apart,” Ezra added. His priestly robe flowed as he indicated the distance between the workers. “At the first sign of trouble, the priests are ready to sound the trumpet. Our temple servants will watch and pray.”
Her father nodded. “We will not be caught unaware. Work will continue through the night.”
“Every night?” she asked.
“Stars or no stars.” Telem straightened as if she had uttered an offense.
Ezra folded his hands and splayed some tassels on his priestly robe. “You are fortunate to have Telem’s skills. His father helped rebuild our temple.” He nodded toward Telem. “I am glad you have returned.”
Telem seemed to grow taller with the priest’s praise. “If only my father would have lived to see the wall rebuilt.”
“Why are you not working with the priests?” Rephaiah looked to Ezra. The elder priest shrugged, but gave no explanation.
Was Telem from a priestly line? Why was a Levite living in a cave?
“Why didn’t you hire more priests to do the work,” Rephaiah asked her father. “Your daughters cannot be of much use.”
Heat flamed up Adah’s neck and into her cheeks. How dare Rephaiah insult her family in the presence of the governor? Her father may not have an heir, but he had a daughter who would protect this city with her life. Man or no man. Othniel or no Othniel.
“I was sought by Shallum’s daughters,” Telem interjected. “To assist my city.”
Rephaiah glowered at her as if she were a harlot. “You went into the outskirts to seek a man?”
Her head jerked backward at his scorn. “With an escort, of course.”
“At my wife’s behest.” Her father’s voice grew too loud for the intimate huddle near the pitch pot. “Our lands are known to my daughter since she traveled with Elisheba.”
“My daughter tends to her husband’s needs.” Rephaiah cast his chastisement around the circle. “Perhaps it is time you sought the same position for your daughters. Surely Shallum, one of your servants could see to your wife’s welfare.”
“My mother’s perfumes have been sought by the rulers of Egypt.” Adah’s rebuttal shot out like an arrow aiming for Rephaiah’s puffed chest. “She is not a burden to me or my sister.”
“Obviously.” Rephaiah clicked his tongue for emphasis. “For your days are spent laboring among the men.”
“To do the work of God.” Her voice quaked, her hands trembled, even her hem shook, but she would not stay silent.
Nehemiah clapped his hand upon her father’s shoulder. “I have seen your wife laboring in the sun. Her work is a testimony to her faith in God.” The governor stepped over a freshly cut stone. “We must be on our way to carry our message of warning to the people. Walk with us, Shallum. You can make introductions.”
“Gladly.” Her father cast a glance at her sword and frowned. “Carry on. The wall is making great progress.” His praise rang hollow, for Adah was quite certain she saw a slight shake of his head.
Did her father regret their vow at the assembly? A gusty trade wind pimpled her flesh. She rubbed her arm with her uninjured hand and remembered her pledge. She had no regrets for honoring her family and defending her home. Not this night. Not ever.
“Rephaiah.” Ezra ambled over to the stiff-necked ruler. “Let us inspect the work of the temple servants on the Fish Gate.” The revered priest practically swept Rephaiah in the direction of th
e temple and his Levite laborers.
When the guests had left, Telem blew out a harsh breath. The grunt startled Adah, bringing her thoughts around to the goal set before her, and not upon her father’s concern.
“I am sorry I raised Rephaiah’s ire.” Telem stooped to pick up a cutting blade.
“You?” Adah scoffed. “I raise his ill regard better than anyone.”
“Because your faith in God challenges his own.” Telem knelt by an oblong rock.
“I don’t see how? His family is also following Nehemiah’s call to build the wall. With many sons, the work is being done faster.” She shifted her sword so it was in full view.
“But what does it cost him to have his sons do the work?” Telem pounded the stone like a warning drum and then exchanged his blade for a chisel. “Where are the calluses on his hands?”
On mine. She glanced at her battered hands.
“Jehu. Jehuliel,” Telem shouted for the brothers, interrupting their labors. “Strap on your weapons and guard the rubble.”
For a moment, the brothers stood idle as they contemplated the sizeable rock. Adah’s countenance sunk. How would she have the strength for such a task?
With Telem’s order for the brothers to be sentries, that would mean only two able-bodied men—Telem and Othniel—would work with her and Judith to construct the wall. And that was if Othniel returned from clearing his ravaged fields. The height of her father’s wall would suffer. If they lagged behind the other sections, more guards would be needed to defend the area.
She fingered the hilt of her blade. “I will stand watch. All I need is a man’s cloak. No scout will suspect a woman wields such a sword.”
Her fellow workers stood rooted to the ground.
Raising her weapon, she shouted, “A sword for the Lord!”
A servant bringing water placed the vessel near the fire and scampered off without a word.
Turning his back to her, Telem lumbered toward the brothers. He flapped his hand to send them to their posts.
She charged after her mason. If she were an ox, she would have trampled him, hoof to his back. “Why do you ignore my offer? Allow me to stand guard. Did I not scour your cave? You praised my efforts to a ruler of Jerusalem.” She rounded on Telem. “Other workers are not far away. Will I not be within a shout? I know this area better than a man gone for years.” Not desiring to insult the brothers, she said, “Or men newly arrived.” She pointed at a squared boulder. “I cannot wedge such a rock on my own.”
“It is the truth.” Jehu regarded her and then glanced at the sizeable stone.
“We are men of Judah.” Jehuliel came to his brother’s aid. “Are we not feared for our skill as fighters? No army would believe a woman stands as one of our soldiers.”
Her posture softened. She was not alone in this argument. A rush of energy surged through her body as she beheld her new allies questioning Telem’s command.
“This is madness.” Telem kicked at his cutting block. “The law forbids a woman dressing as a man.”
“Nonsense.” Her hands fisted into tight knots. “All I need is an oversized cloak. My clothing will not change. I am dressed as a woman.”
Jehu edged closer. “The daughter of Shallum speaks the truth. We all know she is not a man.”
“Jehu!” Telem snapped. “You care to uphold this foolish plan?”
Judith strode into the work area, mixing a bowl of gums for Telem’s pitch pot. “It appears I am the only one still working.”
Telem huffed. “Talk some sense into your sister. She intends to stand guard this night.”
Her twin sister set her mixture down and slapped her hands. “Not without me, she doesn’t. Sentries go forth in pairs”
Pacing like a caged beast, their mason scanned the length of the wall. “Where is your father?”
“Will their mother do?” Elisheba neared with the assistance of a walking stick and an elderly neighbor.
“Yes.” Telem stomped toward their mother. “Your daughters are insisting to stand guard through the night.” Telem’s voice was but a low rumble.
Smiling, her mother swept her arm as if to introduce herself. “Better my daughters than me.”
Adah laughed and then sobered.
Telem snatched a sharpened blade lying near his tools and handed it to Judith. “At least be well armed like your sister.”
Judith beamed. Jehu handed Adah his cloak and ducked away from Telem’s reach.
Adah fingered the hilt of her blade. “May God strike down any invaders this night. And if He doesn’t, I will.”
14
Blinking into the star-lit shadows, Adah scanned the surrounding rocks and bushes for movement. Would Sanballat and Tobiah attack after burning the fields? Surely, they knew Nehemiah would not change course when he believed God had called him to the city for this purpose. She would not change course either, for she desired to see her city restored to its greatness.
Adah strolled a short distance to the south where most of the wall had been torn down by Babylonian soldiers many years ago. With a two-brick-high foundation, this section of the wall could be easily breeched. Leaning against a single formation of shoulder-high rock, she could barely make out the form of her sister plodding north.
Spread out campfires inside the city sent an eerie glow into the night as if the wall itself was the guardian between light and darkness. She did her job and methodically watched the wilderness for any sign of peril. Hebrew chatter and stone scraping made hearing an intruder’s advance difficult. Occasionally, she ambled closer to the next group of workers. Their sentry gave her a nod. If only he knew she wasn’t Jehu.
After hours of pacing, her feet ached at the slightest scuff of her sandals. She stationed herself against the lonely tower of stones and lifted a knee to rest her throbbing toes.
Someone leapt over the ruins.
She gasped. Her hand whipped to her sword. Still as a stone, she waited to see if the person was Hebrew or half-breed. Wild drumming in her ears drowned out the clinks and thumps of the distant masons. A well-placed lunge of an enemy sword and these tall stones would mark her corpse. Licking her lips, she prepared to growl out a warning and then fight for her life.
“Adah?” The summons was too friendly to be a foe.
Her chest practically sunk to her knees as she blew out a pent up breath. “Othniel?” she whispered. “I could have called men down on you.” Would he have blamed her for that confrontation too?
He closed the gap between them. “A spy wouldn’t know your name.” He spoke as if they sauntered to find another root or bud for her oils. “And he wouldn’t call out to a woman.”
Surveying any tree or trench in the vicinity, she kept her gaze from his face. Why did he have to always make sense? “So, you have spoken to Telem.” She peered over her shoulder. Friend, or not, Othniel was a distraction from her duty. And he had not made amends for humiliating her in front of his family. “Does he know you are here?”
She stepped around her visitor and headed farther south. Being trapped between rocks and Othniel’s chest made her belly rise and plummet like an ocean’s wave.
“Yes, he does.” He fell in beside her, matching her footfalls.
Silence reigned, but she could smell the jasmine and sage his mother Zipporah must have mixed in with her lye to wrest the soot from his tunic. The aroma of Othniel in the starlight made her forget some of the injustice she had suffered earlier.
Their lack of words haunted her. She searched for a topic to banter about and settled on their mystery mason.
“Our Telem is the son of a priest. You were not here when Ezra praised Telem’s father for helping rebuild the temple.”
Othniel slowed his steps. “Then why was he in a cave and not helping with temple duties?”
She shrugged. “That is something to ponder for I do not know of any wife who desires to live in a rock?”
“Perhaps she never did?” Othniel breathed deep and stopped walking altogethe
r. “I smell clove oil.” His gaze rested on her bandage. “You’re hurt.”
She pressed her lips together and stifled a grin. He had deciphered the scent of her healing oil. Her mother had taught their escort well. Keeping her stare fixed on a sprawling acacia tree, she flexed her hand. A stinging burn shot up her arm and ignited a tingling sensation behind her eyes. She crinkled her nose and adjusted her grip on her sword. “It’s a tiny cut.”
“I knew you were wounded in the uproar.” His tone praised his miraculous knowledge while chastising her courage.
“I was hurt by a trellis.” And by you. “Not by the raider.” She edged farther from the wall and into the darker shadows, far enough from the laborers so they wouldn’t notice her companion.
He followed and bent low to invade the privacy her cloak gave to her face. “My mother said you threw a rod at that heathen.”
Warmth prickled from her neck into her cheeks. This was her Othniel. Excited about her victory. A woman’s victory. “Everything happened so fast. I did what I could to stay alive. But I did not tell my mother or my family that I faced a rider.”
“Why not? You saved half my vineyard.”
His acknowledgement filled her with enough energy to race around the city, but remembering the enemy’s snarled mouth and bloodthirsty eyes sent a chill through her veins. She shivered even though she was covered by a mound of cloth. “I don’t like to ponder what would have happened if you and your brothers had not arrived.”
“You would have run to safety.” He sounded like he truly believed in her well-being.
She shook her head. “I’m not as sure as you. His sword was within my reach.”
“Is that why you are out here? For revenge?”
“I don’t want to take a life.” Her cheeks flamed. How could she make him understand her intentions? “I believe building this wall means something to Nehemiah, and it means something for our people. I cannot lift as much as a man can, but I want to do my part. Small as it may be.”
Jerusalem Rising Page 9