The Prophetess - Deborah's Story

by Jill Eileen Smith

  Talya took the bread into the cave and handed it to her father, wondering if her mother spoke of more than Shet’s relationship with Yiskah. What could be so complicated about love?

  21

  The thunder of chariot wheels rushed past on the road below the berm that hemmed in Heber’s encampment. Jael’s heart skipped a beat as she peered around the trunk of a large oak tree, watching for Sisera’s insignia on his gilded chariot. He would come. Surely. He had promised Heber he would come soon for the last shipment of his weapons. Heber had worked long into the night, and when he wasn’t working, he’d paced the tent.

  Jael swallowed the fear, feeling the unease from her husband seeping into her heart, encasing it with dread too great to bear. The memory of Sisera’s stench, his probing, the way he touched Daniyah . . . She shuddered, her fear growing, a living thing, only heightened by what Heber had not said, what she knew he had seen in Hazor.

  She closed her eyes, blinking away the thoughts, the images. For now, her girls would be safe in the cave Ghalib had found nearby. Especially with him standing guard. Had they reached the spot by now? She glanced at Heber, who would have sent her with the girls, but she could not, would not, leave him. He gave her a troubled look. Chariots whizzed past with no sign of slowing. Why in such a hurry? She strained and squinted her eyes, certain there must be something wrong with her eyesight, but despite her searching, there was no sign of Sisera’s chariot or his arrogant face.

  The last chariot disappeared from sight, and Jael backed slowly away from the tree, looking in every direction. Quiet descended with the dust the chariot wheels had kicked up, until the only sounds she heard were the sudden chirping of birds in the branches high above. Even they had seemed to hold their breath in the wake of Canaan’s iron beasts.

  She drew a breath, then another. When at last she felt her heart slowing to a normal rhythm, she stepped down from her perch along the base of the berm and met Heber walking toward her with their sons.

  “He didn’t stop for his weapons.” Jael looked directly into Heber’s pinched face, as though the tension had caused him a massive headache.

  “No, he didn’t.”

  “More men are coming.” Fareed stepped closer. “One walks like Barak of Naphtali.”

  Voices grew louder as men approached, and the company of them was not small. Jael glanced at Heber, a question in her eyes. But he only shrugged and motioned her to return to her tent. She thought to resist him, but when he handed her a knife larger than the normal dagger she carried, she did not argue.

  Had Barak summoned an army?

  She moved to the awning of her tent, waiting. She stiffened, listening intently to see if Barak’s voice was among the throng.

  But it was a woman’s voice she heard, one she immediately recognized.

  “It is the prophetess, Deborah,” Jael said, moving out from the tent’s protection to the center of the camp, where Heber and her sons now stood. “We can trust her.”

  “Can we?” Heber raked a hand over his beard, the gesture born of weariness. “You did not seem so sure when you returned without the maid. You said Deborah seemed unable to make a decision and had no power to restore the woman to her home.”

  “Yes, but Deborah took her in to protect her. She is not one who intends our harm.” She slipped her arm through Heber’s. “Let us meet them.”

  And in the next few moments, she did see Deborah climbing over the rise with Barak at her side. The woman’s hand shaded her eyes as if she were searching to find where they were hidden in the trees. At last both Barak and Deborah climbed down the berm, followed by another woman and a few men. Was that Talya, the woman Ghalib could not stop talking about?

  For the briefest moment Jael wondered if God had brought the girl here to fulfill Ghalib’s dreams, ridiculous as they were. But when she saw the weapons hanging from the Israelites’ shoulders and strapped to their sides, she knew they had not come for a marriage alliance.

  “Heber, my friend,” Barak said, stepping from the group to greet her husband. “Jael.” He nodded at her, then at Mahir and Fareed. “Forgive our intrusion so unexpectedly. We are headed to Kedesh-naphtali.” He motioned to Deborah and those with them. “God has called us to war against Sisera. I came seeking weapons. Deborah said you have many that will go unused, and that you would be willing to give them to us.”

  Jael lifted a brow and looked at her husband, then glanced at Deborah. How did she know this? Even Jael did not know it for sure. She had only sensed it in her husband’s expressions, in the change in him since Hazor. She did not think him capable of deceiving Sisera and giving the general’s weapons to his enemy.

  “Your prophetess knows much,” Heber said, his voice kind. “Please, won’t you join us for a meal while my sons gather what you seek?” He motioned to the hearth outside of his tent, then spoke to Mahir and Fareed to gather Ghalib and donkeys and fill baskets with the weapons planned for Sisera. “You are fortunate to come at such a time. I have just finished the largest order I have yet made for Canaan’s forces. Sisera’s men just flew past our camp and did not stop to retrieve them.”

  “Sisera’s days are few,” Deborah said, taking a seat on one of the stones lining the hearth. “We thank you for entrusting us with this gift.”

  Heber sat opposite her, while her husband and daughter sat at her sides. Barak leaned closest to Heber, and Jael hurried to her tent to retrieve grain and a large jug of water to make a quick porridge. By the look of her guests, they were hungry but anxious to be off, and she knew her sons would work quickly to gather the weapons that were already waiting for Sisera’s men.

  When Jael returned a short time later with porridge and clay bowls to pass to each one and flatbread to dip into the spicy grain, the men were discussing war plans.

  “I will go with you,” Heber said quietly.

  Jael startled, nearly dropping the bowl. Deborah caught her arm, steadying her. She glanced at the prophetess but spoke to her husband. “You can’t. Who will protect us?”

  Heber studied her a moment. “You have the cave. And the guards.” He did not say, “And our sons.”

  “You plan to take our sons with you?” The shock of his decision made her knees weak. She looked around and found a place to sit before they completely gave way. “You can’t,” she said again, but her voice carried no strength.

  “Your sons and your husband will be safe, Jael.” Deborah’s words broke the sudden silence that had fallen over the group. “Trust Adonai. Soon we will rid the land of the Canaanite tyrant. No more will our women and children or our men live in fear of him. We will worship Adonai in freedom, no longer in hidden caves and villages carved out of the rock.” She paused, looking over the men and women gathered there. Her daughter’s eyes gleamed, and Ghalib’s shone the moment he stepped into the camp and saw the girl sitting there.

  “You are allowing your daughter to go to war?” Jael struggled to comprehend why two women would follow thousands of men into battle.

  “Their gods are women. A woman will kill Sisera.” Talya spoke before her mother could, and the confidence in her eyes told Jael that Talya had full intention of being that woman.

  “Your God is powerful if He can defeat the Canaanite goddess of war,” Jael said, rubbing her hands up and down her arms to warm them from a sudden chill.

  “He is,” Deborah agreed, her smile reassuring. And suddenly Jael’s fear vanished in the presence of the prophetess. “Our God is a consuming fire.”

  Deborah’s words crackled with the fire coming from the pit, and each man and woman glanced as one at the flames sparking upward. Sisera did not stand a chance against a God like that. And yet . . . why had it taken Israel’s God so long to destroy the man?

  The question would not leave as Jael accepted the help of her daughter and daughters-in-law to feed the crowd and then help their men gather all they needed to head off with Israel to war. Neither did it leave as she lay alone in her bed that night, listening to Daniyah
’s soft breathing, wondering how the girl could relax when the threat of Sisera loomed larger than the shadows of the trees overhead.

  Jael’s fear came and fled with the dawn as she awoke to a quiet camp, as she went about her morning tasks, and as she prayed to the Unseen One words she could not even form to fully express. Keep them safe seemed so simple. Destroy Sisera, too bold.

  As dawn turned to day and the girls quietly spun or ground a far less amount of grain, keeping to the door of her tent, Jael’s only heart cry turned to a single, hopeless word.

  Help.

  22

  Kedesh-naphtali’s streets overflowed with men too numerous to count. Barak climbed the steps to the city gate and stood near the parapet looking down on the throng.

  “Men have come from Zebulun, Issachar, and Naphtali, as well as a few other tribes. No more will come.” Deborah stood at his side, her bearing serene, confident.

  “There are thousands, but not nearly as many as I had expected or hoped for.” Barak tamped down his disappointment with a smile. “But if you say we are enough, then we will go.”

  “Arrange them into groups of a thousand and appoint leaders over each,” she said.

  He resisted the urge to tell her he had already considered that very thing. “Yes, Prophetess.” He surveyed the crowd, catching sight of Keshet weaving his way through the wall of men to reach him. Deborah’s sons and a few of Barak’s other leaders were with him.

  “Of course you had already planned this, no doubt.” Her quiet comment made him turn to face her.

  “But you suggested it regardless.”

  She shrugged. “I was simply affirming your thoughts. They are given to you from above, Barak. It is God who trains our hands for war.”

  He considered her a moment before the noise of his men clamoring up the stairs drew their attention.

  “We have counted the last of them, my lord,” Keshet said, giving a slight bow. “There are ten thousand of us. Not many carry shield or sword, but every man has a sling and many wield the bow.”

  “We have divided them by clans and tribes,” Lavi said, glancing at his mother. “They are eager to leave for Mount Tabor.”

  Deborah clasped her hands together, and Barak noticed Lappidoth and Talya appear at the top of the stairs to join her. “We will leave at dawn,” she said. “Give the leaders your instructions this night and make sure all is packed. We will need tents to shield us on the mountain, for I sense a great storm coming.”

  Barak looked at her, studied her certain gaze. “The winter rains are still months away.” He pointed overhead. “The sky is clear of even a single cloud, and yet you say a storm is coming? How can we fight the enemy in a downpour?” By her expression he did not doubt her words. Had they gathered men just to sit in tents while the rains turned the roads into rivers?

  “God will fight the battle for us, my son.” Deborah raised her hands high. “The Kishon will aid our fight, the moon and stars will shine in our defense.” She lowered her arms and faced the leaders. “Be strong and have great courage. Tomorrow we travel to Tabor. Let us not lose heart along the way.”

  Barak puzzled over her comments as he watched her retreat to the street below, her family following behind her. Had Deborah’s presence here given her the right to lead the warrior’s charge, to shout the battle cry?

  “You gave her the right to lead when you asked her to come, you know.” Keshet stood close to his ear, his words meant for Barak alone. “In case it troubles you to have a woman—two women—in the camp now. Just remember why that is.”

  Barak scowled at his friend, ran a hand over his beard. “If I wanted your opinion, I would have asked for it.” Sometimes a friend could be more trouble than a brother. But one glance into his friend’s dark eyes told him that Keshet knew him better than he cared to admit. “Never mind. You are right. I asked for a woman’s help. It is fitting that the men will follow her lead, not mine.” He didn’t care about the glory of winning regardless.

  But as he walked to his home to face Deborah and her family already waiting for him, he was not so sure he had spoken the truth.

  The sound of the shofar filled the streets the following morning. Deborah tucked the last of the unleavened bread into a pouch as stuffed full as the skin would allow, tied another skin of water to the belt at her waist, and walked to the courtyard of Barak’s home. Talya was already waiting, her bearing proud. Deborah looked at her daughter, her heart searching for some confirmation, some truth, that Talya did indeed belong here. Is she the woman who will kill Sisera as she so desires? But her prayers drifted on the winds of thought, and no peace followed.

  Barak’s command to move out drew her attention, and she fell into step behind him and Keshet as they marched. What if she had made a grave mistake allowing Talya to join them here? If a Canaanite arrow pierced her daughter’s heart, if a Canaanite captured her as a trophy of war . . .

  “Are you all right, Ima?” Lavi’s touch and his gentle tone roused her to her surroundings. The men were long past the village now, headed to the base of the mount near the Jezreel Valley.

  Deborah glanced before and behind her, but Talya was several paces ahead, speaking with her father. “I am not sure she should have come.” She angled her head in the direction of Lavi’s sister.

  Lavi stopped, letting the men continue around him, and faced his mother. “Is there some word of the Lord you fear, Ima? Has God told you Talya does not belong here? Because if you say the word, I will take her now and return her to our village out of harm’s way.” He did not say, “Where she should have stayed,” though Deborah knew the thought had crossed his mind.

  Deborah shook her head. “No, my son.” She touched his arm, meeting his earnest gaze. “It is only I, your mother, who fears for her daughter. I have had no word from the Lord in this.”

  Lavi tilted his head, then glanced quickly around them. He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Are you suggesting it is not my sister who will kill Sisera? I thought Adonai had given you this word.”

  Deborah drew a breath, wishing she could retract those words, but in an instant she knew they were still true. “The Lord clearly said that a woman will kill Sisera. Only, I do not know whether that woman will be Talya. That is Talya’s desire, so it may be that our God will use her to fulfill His plan. I do not know every detail of His plan until He reveals it.”

  Lavi studied her, his broad shoulders flexing as though trying to relieve a kink in his neck. “Do you think that woman will be you, Ima?” His heavy brows knit beneath the turban that covered his dark hair. “You have no weapon, nor training in war.”

  Deborah felt the sling tied to her wrist. “No, but every woman knows how to wield a stone against wild animals, my son. Sisera can be caught as easily by a sling as by a bow or sword.” She touched the pouch with the stones at her side. “If God should will it, I would use whatever skill I possess to kill the man.” She held his gaze, unwavering.

  Lavi tucked his hands into the belt at his waist, and she didn’t miss the soft smile at the corners of his mouth. “I have no doubt you would do just that, Ima. I wish neither one of you had come, though.” He glanced once more at his sister. “I wish war had not come to either of you.”

  “War has come to all Israel, my son, because we fashioned the gods of Canaan to be true gods. Israel caused her own testing by putting the Lord our God to the test. Sisera is evil, but he would hold no power if we had fully trusted our God.” Deborah released a breath.

  “It is because of Yiskah and others like her,” Lavi said, spitting in the dust. “Weak women and faithless men have caused this.” His large face grew hard, and she did not like the glint of hatred she saw in his eyes.

  Deborah touched his forearm. Men continued to pass them as they stood near the trees, and she knew they could not stand here much longer. “My son, listen to me.”

  He met her gaze, waiting.

  “When we worshiped other gods, war came to our gates, this is true. But no
ne of us can say that we serve and obey our God with perfect hearts. Is there one among us who has not coveted? Is there even one who has kept the commands of our God without blemish, like a pure, perfect lamb? If we had, the sacrifices would no longer be necessary.” She brushed strands of hair that the breeze had blown across her face and tucked them under her scarf.

  “But we don’t worship other gods, Ima. Not everyone disobeys.” Lavi’s protest gave her pause, but she sensed that he had softened as his thoughts turned to truly consider the matter.

  “Our forefathers did not drive out our enemies as our God commanded, my son. Yahweh commanded this to protect us from the worship that drove those people to evil, to abandon their Creator. As Sisera has done. As Jabin has done. And so many nations and peoples before them. So Adonai allowed them to live among us to test us and see if we could resist the temptation to follow after their gods. We failed His test. And so we have come to face war.” She looped her arm through his. “But come. We will fall too far behind, and we must stay close to Barak.”

  Lavi nodded, saying nothing, but Deborah knew her son would think long about her words.

  Quiet murmurs and the consistent shuffling of men bedding down for the night mingled with the sounds of winged creatures overhead. No one slept as well as they would have liked with war so imminent. Barak strode through the sea of black goat-hair tents, heard the hushed conversations. Anxious excitement moved like ripples of water upon the sand, and Barak could not shake the feeling of justice the coming day evoked.

  He walked the length and breadth of the camp, his mind whirling with plans. There were simply not enough swords among them, so they would have to rely on some distance for the use of bow and sling. The image of Talya with her bow slung over her back made him pause. He would keep her on the mountain unless her mother objected. If the girl was truly to kill Sisera, God would make a way.

  He came to the central fire, where the embers had nearly died out to keep their presence less conspicuous. Deborah sat before the pit, her head bowed as if in prayer.