The Prophetess - Deborah's Story

by Jill Eileen Smith

  Barak tipped his head in her direction. “It is kind of you, Prophetess.” He glanced beyond her, and Deborah followed the direction of his gaze. Talya stood in the shadows on the side where her brothers sat, opposite Jael and her family.

  She had not expected to make a decision for Talya’s future for many days to come, and in truth, she was weary, too weary for such a thing so soon after the victory. But the Kenites would be returning home, so it made sense for them to want some type of answer, to know whether their request was one she and Lappidoth would welcome.

  Deborah folded her hands in her lap and looked down at their callouses. A lifetime of work showed on her fingertips. A woman did not stop working in the daily tasks simply to settle one dispute or another.

  “I am afraid I cannot give you an answer just now,” Deborah said, looking at Jael. “I must discuss the matter with my husband and think on it. May I give you an answer in a week? I will send a messenger to you with our decision one way or the other.”

  Jael seemed to ponder Deborah’s words a moment before looking to her husband and son. Ghalib did not look pleased. Not a patient man? But she supposed a man in love would be anxious to know his choice was a good one.

  “We will wait, Prophetess. And thank you.” Jael rose gracefully, Heber with her. The three left the campsite to join the rest of their family in tents some distance away.

  “What did they want, Ima?” Lavi, ever the curious one, intruded on her thoughts.

  Deborah glanced at her son, this lion of a man, and could not keep the pride from her gaze. “You are a good son, Lavi.” She looked to Elior. “As are you, Elior. I am most blessed to have the gift of you both. But Jael’s business does not concern you right now. It is between your father and me.”

  “And me,” Talya said, stepping closer and taking a seat beside her mother. “Whatever is decided, please consult me.”

  Deborah placed a hand on Talya’s arm. Surely a mother’s choices for her daughter were best. Her own mother might have chosen Lappidoth for her against her wishes, but she could not look upon him now with regret.

  Still, she looked into Talya’s pleading gaze, recalling the very feelings Talya certainly faced now. “We will discuss it with you,” she promised. “Now, if you will excuse me.” She rose to enter her tent with a glance back at Lappidoth, who was listening to something Barak was saying into his ear.

  Did Barak know what had just transpired here? Could he see what Deborah saw in her daughter’s eyes—a heart that beat with love for him? For if Deborah had to choose between the two men this moment, she knew she would choose Barak over Ghalib.

  Except Barak was not the one doing the asking.

  “Why did you not press the matter, Ima?” Ghalib’s pout reminded Jael of the young boy he once was, and she did not like the image of a man acting like a child now.

  “The timing was not right.” Jael looked from her son to Heber. “We should have waited, gone to visit them after all is settled. We had no time to discuss your desire to join Israel, to show them that an alliance with us would not compromise their faith in their God. It was foolish to act so rashly, and now at a time when the whole land is concerned with celebrating their God’s victory and cleaning up after such a war.” She paced the tent they shared, small in comparison to the ones they left under the oak of Zaanannim.

  “Your mother is right,” Heber said, sinking to his mat, his whole body rigid. She sensed his unease, even the anger bubbling within him. He was not a man who easily gave in to useless pursuits, but Ghalib had cowed them both in the height of revelry. He rubbed his head, then began to untie his sandals. “I agreed to this ridiculous attempt to secure the prophetess’s promise because I have failed to get you a wife from my brother’s clan.” He tossed his sandals into a corner and stretched out on the mat, hands behind his head. “But I am tired, Ghalib. You must learn patience, my son, if you truly hope to get what it is you want.” He suddenly leaned up on one elbow and looked past Jael to meet Ghalib’s bewildered gaze. “But be very sure it is Talya you want. I do not think you are her only suitor.”

  “Which is exactly why I wanted you to secure her for me now!” Ghalib’s outburst startled Jael. She stopped her pacing and waited for Heber to respond, if he would.

  “My son, you are not ready to take a wife,” Heber said at last. “A man is not a man who cannot control his temper.” He rolled onto his side then, away from Ghalib, indicating the conversation at an end.

  “Like you controlled your temper with my uncle?” The words were sharp barbs, sinking deep into Jael’s heart.

  “Don’t say such things, my son,” she said, attempting to soothe the suddenly charged air. “The anger that sent us away from our people was your uncle’s, not your father’s. When you can accept that, perhaps you can also accept the fact that a woman like Talya does not need a husband who will jealously guard her every move. I have seen the way you look at her when another man speaks to her. Such jealousy might seem admirable, but it hides a lack of trust.” Jael crossed her arms over her chest and stared her son down.

  Ghalib looked as if he would challenge her, but one glance toward his father’s back seemed to deflate his anger. Though by the spark in his eyes, she knew the anger still simmered.

  She took a step closer, placed a hand on Ghalib’s arm. He did not pull away when she coaxed him to meet her gaze.

  “I love her, Ima,” he said, his voice low, husky. “I’ve never met anyone like her.”

  “And yet you have met very few women, my son. You do not know if another might be better suited to you.” She cupped his cheek, wishing she could hold him as she once did when he rocked in her arms as a small child. “I know you long for a wife, and you think Talya is that woman. But she has eyes for another. Did you not see it in the firelight tonight when she stepped into the shadows?”

  Ghalib’s expression moved from anger to hurt, and he suddenly pulled away and took a step back from her. “She thinks she cares for Barak,” he said. “But I do not see that he cares for her in return. When they speak, they argue. And if she truly cared for him, she would obey him, but she did not even respect his role as commander and ran off to fight in the battle despite his orders.”

  Heber’s low laughter came from the mat, and Jael could not hide a smile. “Forgive me, my son. We do not laugh at you, but at your lack of understanding. Sometimes the spark of attraction ignites arguments. It does not mean there is no love hidden beneath.”

  “We have spared you many an argument, my son,” Heber said without rising. “You have much to learn about women.”

  Ghalib huffed but did not speak. He looked from his mother to his father’s back, seeming as though he wanted to say something, but then shook his head and left the tent. Jael watched him go, his stride strong but his shoulders slumped. They had dealt him a blow tonight. Deborah had as well, and his pride would surely suffer for it.

  The thought troubled her as she stepped into starlight and watched her son stalk off into darkness. Such a gentle and kind though sometimes frustrated soul was her Ghalib. One whose pride held too much sway over his heart.

  She turned back to the tent and sank down beside Heber. “Will he be all right?” she asked, wanting desperately to run after him but knowing how foolish that action would be.

  “He will recover,” Heber said, grunting and repositioning himself. “Give him time.” He released a deep sigh, and Jael waited for the sound of his soft snores. But a moment later his arm came around her. “I will send to my brother again, and peace or not between us, I will request Parisa as a wife for Ghalib.”

  It was a sacrifice for him to say so. She leaned into him, grateful for this humble gift, but worried that Ghalib might not so easily accept it.

  Dawn bathed the mountain in soft pink light, and Talya stood outside her mother’s tent facing the east, watching as the colors danced along the ridge. The camp was just beginning to stir, and soon the men would take down the tents and return toward their towns an
d villages. She moved softly on bare feet from the makeshift courtyard along the row of tents toward the ridge. The valley spread before her, the stench of death replaced by the smell of ash left from the fires the men had set to destroy what remained of Sisera’s army. Only the iron chariot wheels were visible here and there, stuck to the earth as though they had grown up from the ground.

  She placed a hand over her eyes to better see into the distance. She shivered, pulling her cloak closer.

  “You’re up early.”

  She turned slowly to face her cousin Shet. “As are you,” she said, searching his gaze. “Have you made a decision?”

  Something determined flickered in his eyes, but he glanced beyond her. He rubbed his hands together as if to warm them. “Did you see the looks on the faces of the captives we rescued?” He glanced at her then, and she was taken back to that moment, seeing it now through his eyes.

  “I saw. I could have been one of them.” Talya fixed the scarf that the wind wanted to snatch from her head. They stood outside of the tree line, where the windbreak would normally block the stiff breeze.

  He touched her shoulder. “I am glad Barak found you.” His voice cracked. “I am sorry Yiskah’s behavior caused you such risk.”

  “It is of no consequence now,” she said. “She has learned a terrible lesson for her rash acts.” She searched his face, saw his jaw tighten and a muscle move over his left eyebrow, a sign of his anxiety barely held back by his self-control.

  “You are going to put Yiskah out?” she asked when he did not speak. The thought pained her.

  “No,” he said slowly. “I am going to take her back.” His breath rushed from him as though the words took all of his strength. “Mind you, it will not be easy. I do not even know if I love her still.” He stroked his beard. “I know I do not trust her.”

  “And yet you would take her again as your wife? What if she does not wish to come? If you cannot offer her love or trust, what will you give her?” Talya straightened, a sense of protectiveness for Yiskah, for all of the women whom Sisera had taken, rising within her like a solid force.

  “I will give her time,” Shet said softly, pushing the anger from Talya’s heart. “I will forgive what she has done and offer her a home. It is all I can do.”

  Talya studied her feet, suddenly ashamed that she had judged him so. “I am sorry. I expected the worst.” She met his gaze and caught him smiling down at her.

  “And you would have gotten what you expected if not for the sight of those broken, innocent women.” He paused. “Though Yiskah was not innocent, she did not deserve to be abused.”

  He looked behind them at the waking camp. The female former captives huddled around a handful of tents, busily loading their few new belongings onto white donkeys, bounty taken from Sisera.

  “At least Yiskah has a husband to return to.” Talya touched his arm. “You take a great risk in forgiving. Only a great man would risk his heart a second time.”

  “A third,” he corrected. “If she had not run away . . .” He left the sentence unfinished.

  “There is no sense in thinking about the past, cousin.” Talya linked her arm through his. “Come, let us help the rest of the camp prepare. It is time to go home.”

  32

  Barak tightened the last of his gear to the strap of his belt, felt the hilt of his sword out of habit more than need now, and headed toward the edge of the mountain, where his men had already begun to move toward their homes. He spotted Keshet talking to someone. One glance and he knew the object of Keshet’s attention. Daniyah the Kenite. He looked away, fighting the sinking feeling in his gut. Why shouldn’t his friend seek a wife now that the danger had passed? He imagined many of the men would quickly return to the lives they knew or the ones they hoped to build now that they could live in safety, even prosperity, should God allow.

  He looked past Keshet for a sign of Ghalib. No doubt the boy would be hounding Talya now that Jael and Heber had asked Deborah for a marriage alliance. And why should he care? He had refused Talya’s attempt to woo him and Deborah’s willingness to accept him as a son. He raked a hand over his neck, nearly sending his turban to the dirt. There was no use trying to return to what had passed.

  But he could not shut out that vulnerable look Talya had given him. She had revealed herself in a way she had never done before. He squinted, searching the crowd for her. Trust. That was the look she had offered freely. One of trust in him.

  The sinking feeling lifted slightly. Was it possible? Perhaps it was not too late.

  He moved on past several groups of men still packing or slowly making their way toward the path. Deborah’s tent had come down long ago, and though her family had invited him to join them, to return to their village, he had refused Lavi’s prompting. But his gut told him to speak to Lappidoth before they parted ways. Who knew when he would get the chance to see them again?

  He shaded his eyes, searching. There. Lappidoth stood several paces from Deborah. Lavi and Elior and their cousin Shet led donkeys laden with supplies ahead of them, while Talya walked beside her mother. Good. Lappidoth appeared far enough apart for Barak to speak to him alone.

  Barak quickened his step to catch up with the man. Was this action foolish on his part? He found Talya annoyingly intriguing, the exact opposite of Nessa. Could he live with a woman so entirely different from his first love? He paused, uncertain again, and slowed his step.

  “Barak, my friend, there you are.” Keshet spoke from his right, startling him.

  “You should not sneak up on your friends.”

  “And you should not let me.” Keshet chuckled. “Obviously, some thought has taken you far away.” He touched Barak’s shoulder, his look too telling. “You know it is time to move on, Barak. Find another wife. Otherwise your soul will always be bound to a place you cannot go and a person you cannot hold close again.”

  Barak stiffened. “You know nothing of it.”

  “True. I don’t know that kind of loss. But I hope to know that kind of love.” Keshet’s smile widened.

  Barak stopped walking. “Daniyah?”

  Keshet nodded, his dark eyes shining. “I have spoken with her and with her father. They are agreeable.”

  Barak took a step back, assessing. But a moment later he clapped Keshet on the back. “When we arrive home, we will gather everyone in town to celebrate with you.” He smiled, hoping the gesture did not look as forced as it felt.

  “Ghalib hopes to wed Talya,” Keshet said, continuing to walk forward with the throng. “Daniyah told me her brother is not sure what he wants. He pines after a cousin and after Talya. I am going to assume he doesn’t expect to have both.” He glanced around and leaned closer. “I thought you should know.” His look said more than his words.

  Barak nodded. “They spoke to Deborah last night.” The sinking feeling settled once more inside of him.

  “Are you going to say nothing then?” Keshet shifted the pack on his shoulder.

  Barak glanced ahead to where Lappidoth still walked one pace behind Deborah and Talya rather than ahead of them with his sons. “He carries a weight,” Barak said absently, ignoring Keshet’s question, inclining his head toward Lappidoth several steps away.

  Keshet followed his gaze. “So you do intend to speak with him?”

  Barak gave him a sidelong glance. “You don’t give up, do you?”

  Keshet smiled again, the smile of one who has conquered his world. “Not if I don’t have to.” He put one meaty arm around Barak’s shoulder. “I love Daniyah, but I do not think her brother is the best person for Deborah’s daughter.” He released his grip and strode ahead, glancing back once to give Barak a confident look.

  Barak did not respond, but his feet seemed to increase their pace of their own accord as he considered seeking an audience with Lappidoth.

  “You’re terribly quiet, my daughter,” Deborah said as the two of them followed her sons down the winding path to the base of Mount Tabor. They’d been walking since jus
t after sunup and were nearly halfway down the mount. “What troubles you?”

  Talya took a step behind her mother as they maneuvered a narrow spot in the turn. Deborah waited as they came around the bend for her daughter to join her once more.

  “I don’t want to marry Ghalib,” Talya said, her voice low. “I do not want to marry outside of Israel.”

  Deborah looked ahead, catching sight of a trio of mountain goats climbing the rock to the place they had just been. “Then you shall not marry him.”

  Talya looked at her, eyes slowly widening. “That’s it then? You will accept my wishes without consulting my father?”

  Deborah released a sigh. “I have already discussed it with your father, Talya. It is not something we have wanted. But at the same time, Jael did a great service for Israel. To refuse them will not be easy.”

  Talya settled her gaze somewhere in the distance. “I still want to marry Barak.”

  Deborah studied her daughter, noting the bright flush to her cheeks. “And if Barak still grieves Nessa?” she asked after a lengthy pause. “Would you wait for him, even if it meant waiting many years?” She touched Talya’s arm. “I would not wish that for you.”

  Talya dropped her gaze and kicked a stone in the dirt. “Perhaps Father could ask him just the same.”

  We have already been refused. But Deborah felt a check in her spirit. Now was not the time to remind Talya of her failed attempts of the past.

  “I’ve seen the way he looks at me, Ima. Whether he is over Nessa or not, there is interest in his gaze. I’ve felt it.” She picked up the belt of her robe and twirled it between her fingers as though the whole subject made her nervous.

  “I will speak with your father again once we camp for the night,” she promised. Surely Lappidoth would agree with her assessment. Just because he had refused Talya once did not mean he would do so again. But suddenly Deborah was not sure that he could be so easily controlled. A soft shiver moved through her at this new feeling toward her husband.