On This Foundation (16 page)

S
AMARIA

T
obiah had a lot of time to ponder what his next move should be as he left his Ammonite capital early in the morning for the long journey to Samaria on horseback. His new enemy, Nehemiah, had proven to be more dangerous than Tobiah had ever imagined. In a single act of political genius, Judah's new governor had proposed to rebuild Jerusalem's wall, igniting flames of patriotism and religious fervor and uniting his deeply divided population.

The long drought made fording the Jordan River easier than usual, and as Tobiah crossed into Judean territory, his anger burned as hot as the summer sun. This territory should be his, not Nehemiah's. He had invested years of hard work currying favor among the Judean leaders and priests, laboring to help solve Judah's many economic and security problems. His goal was to forge an alliance between Judah and Ammon, with himself as the leader. But he was no longer the savior they'd been waiting for—Nehemiah was.

Tobiah knew he needed help in ridding the province of this new threat. His allies, Sanballat and Geshem, must have heard the news by now that Nehemiah was fortifying Jerusalem. If
not, Tobiah needed to warn them. Afterward, on the way home, Tobiah would make a secret visit to Jerusalem to speak with the powerful noblemen he knew on the council and among the priests. Surely not everyone in Judah welcomed their new governor and his ambitions with open arms.

The heat had nearly exhausted Tobiah and his small retinue of men by the time they reached Sanballat's hilltop palace in Samaria. But Tobiah didn't waste any time before conferring with his allies. “Why the urgent message to meet with Geshem and me?” Sanballat asked after his servants had closed the door on their private meeting. “I assume this must be very serious to summon us to a second visit so soon after the first?” The Samaritan leader's face looked flushed and overheated in spite of the servants who continually fanned him with palm branches. Tobiah wondered if his news would give the heavy man a fit of apoplexy.

“It is serious. I sent two of my men to visit my son in Jerusalem with orders to follow Judah's new governor. Jehohanan even managed to be appointed as one of Nehemiah's aides. They found out what his agenda is and why he came to Jerusalem.” Tobiah paused, waiting to see if they already knew. It appeared they didn't. Tobiah's robe clung to his sweaty back as he sat forward in his seat. “Nehemiah has drawn up plans to rebuild Jerusalem's wall. He has the full support of the people. The work will begin immediately.”

“He's fortifying the city?” Geshem asked. “Why?”

“Don't be naïve,” Sanballat said. “Why does any leader build walls and citadels? He wants freedom. Power. Self-sufficiency.”

“The letters Nehemiah showed us from Susa didn't say anything about building a fortress, did they?” Tobiah asked. He wished now that he had studied the letters more carefully instead of trying to show his disrespect by ignoring them. “But since that's what he's doing, he's obviously going behind King Artaxerxes' back.”

“I agree,” Sanballat said. “The Persian king couldn't have known what Nehemiah intended, or he never would have allowed it. A fortified city is the first step toward rebellion, a necessity for an independent nation. We need to send a message to King Artaxerxes immediately.”

“What else did your informants tell you?” Geshem asked. His anger was clear in his dark frown, his incessant pacing. He had risen from his chair at Tobiah's news, as if already imagining how an independent province of Judah would threaten his trade monopoly.

“It seems Nehemiah gave a speech at the temple in front of all the leaders and priests and people,” Tobiah continued. “According to my son, he mesmerized them and rallied them into action. There was a stampede to volunteer for his massive building project. Everyone is getting involved.”

“Their enthusiasm won't survive this heat,” Sanballat said. He looked uncomfortable in the ridiculous, ornate robe he insisted on wearing even on the hottest days. But in spite of the Samaritan leader's words, Tobiah could tell that he was worried. Both men were. “When this summer heat wave breaks, the rains will begin,” Sanballat continued. “The work will have to stop during the rainy season. After that, it will be time for the people to return to their homes to plow and plant their crops. The enthusiasm of the masses won't last after that. It rarely does last for very long.”

Tobiah shook his head, wishing he could believe Sanballat's confident prediction. His allies hadn't heard the firsthand report about this compelling new leader, as Tobiah had. “Nehemiah is proving to be a very inspiring leader,” Tobiah told them. “He has everyone in Judah convinced that the wall can be rebuilt in a matter of months. They're cheering him on, offering their full support.”

“Months?” Geshem gave a derisive laugh. “Impossible. I've been to Jerusalem. I've seen the destruction. There isn't a single gate that's still intact.”

“Geshem is right,” Sanballat said. “Besides, how can Nehemiah afford the supplies he needs?”

“He claims to have a letter from King Artaxerxes addressed to the keeper of the king's forest, granting him permission to cut all the timber he wants.”

Geshem huffed in anger. “Nehemiah forgot to mention that little detail when he met with us.”

“Where will he get a workforce of experienced builders?” Sanballat asked. “Most of the Judeans are farmers and shepherds.”

“He asked all the people to volunteer as the workforce.”

“Amateurs? What do they know about constructing a city wall? It will topple over in the first strong wind.”

“I think you're missing the point,” Tobiah said. “It doesn't matter
how
he plans to rebuild the wall. What's alarming is that he was in Jerusalem for what . . . barely a week? And he already managed to gain the full support of the masses. He somehow inspired them to forget their differences and work together on a common project. An enormous, impossible project. That's a clear display of leadership genius. From there it's not a huge leap to imagine him starting a rebellion, convincing the people that he's the promised Messiah.”

“Except for one thing,” Sanballat said. “He hasn't solved their economic problems. How does he plan to pay for all the costs involved in rebuilding his wall? The people can't afford higher taxes, so his only recourse will be to suspend tribute payments, either to our provincial treasuries or to Persia. Or both.”

“Withholding tribute would definitely constitute a rebellion,” Tobiah said. He suddenly realized that because of the close ties he had fostered between his own nation and Judah, his political power and governorship also would be in jeopardy if the Persian king responded with force. He closed his eyes as he caught a glimpse of his own small empire toppling. Nehemiah had to be stopped.

“I think we need to pay a state visit to Jerusalem,” Sanballat said.

“And do what?” Tobiah said miserably, slumping back in his seat. “Do you have a plan?”

“The people have known me as their governor ever since Ezra retired. They don't know this newcomer yet. Nehemiah hasn't proven himself, in spite of his rallying speech. We have to convince the people to rethink this building project. We'll show them the foolishness of the idea and also of their leader.”

“So we'll tell them the idea is preposterous and that it risks Persian retaliation?” Geshem asked. “Will they care?” He looked skeptical.

“We'll sow a few seeds of doubt and discouragement and wait for them to grow,” Sanballat said. “The common people have enough problems without this upstart governor asking them to do even more. We'll help them see that such an immense task can't possibly be accomplished without a great deal of manpower and money. The people will never agree to another increase in taxes. If we ridicule their leader, the people will see him for the fool that he is.”

“In the meantime,” Geshem said, “we need to send a delegation to Susa and tell King Artaxerxes what Nehemiah is doing.”

Sanballat winced. “That could be risky. What if Nehemiah really does have the king's permission? I think we'd better wait and ask to see Nehemiah's papers again. Find out if he really is authorized to rebuild the wall.”

“I've been thinking as I've listened to you talk,” Tobiah said. “Maybe there's something else we can do to bring a swift end to Nehemiah's popularity. He currently has the support of the common people, but this drought has impoverished thousands of them. The divide between the rich and the poor gets wider and deeper every day as more and more farmers are forced to mortgage their property and go into debt. It wouldn't take much to start a riot, poor against rich. And the division and hatred would certainly halt Nehemiah's building project.”

“Won't that backfire on us?” Geshem asked. “Aren't we among the wealthy ones?”

“That doesn't matter,” Tobiah said. “As long as the unrest puts Nehemiah's popularity in jeopardy. Unless he's a seasoned leader, and I'm guessing that he isn't, he won't be able to solve the problem and get his project back on track. He'll never be able to appease both the rich and the poor. And he's powerless to end the drought—or the enormous taxes the Persians impose.”

“Can you light the right fires to start the unrest, Tobiah?” Sanballat asked. “Do you have the right connections in Judah?”

“Yes, in fact, I do.” He smiled, pleased that Sanballat was dependent on him, for once. The Samaritan leader would be in Tobiah's debt when this was over. “Yes, I know exactly which fires to stoke. And my son is in the perfect position to stoke them.”

“Good. Then we're counting on you to do it. In the meantime, I believe it's time for the three of us to pay Nehemiah a state visit.”

T
HE
D
ISTRICT
OF
B
ETH
H
AKKEREM

T
he evening meal had been an elaborate, multi-course affair. Nava was weary from a long day of work, serving her master and his distinguished guests. As she had moved in and out of the outdoor dining room carrying platters and trays of food from the kitchen, she had overheard snatches of their conversation, enough to learn that the men had come from Jerusalem and that they and Master Malkijah were planning a building project. From the sound of things, it would be an enormous undertaking.

At last Malkijah and his guests left the table and moved to the upper terrace to enjoy the cool breeze and sip wine beneath the stars. Nava grabbed a tray and hurried out to clear the table, hoping to finally go to bed. She nearly halted and ran back to the kitchen when she saw that Master Aaron hadn't left the table with the others. He remained in his seat, sprawled comfortably on the cushions, and now he watched her every move. She didn't dare retreat. Nava quickly piled as many dishes as she could safely carry onto her tray and lifted it up, planning to return to the kitchen and remain there until he left.

“Nava,” he said before she could safely escape. “Put down that tray and come here.”

Her heart pounded painfully when she glanced around and saw that they were alone. She had to obey. The plates rattled as she set the tray on the table with shaking hands. She walked around to stand in front of him as she'd been instructed to do.

“Here I am.” Where were the other servers who were supposed to help her? Ever since she'd been assigned to work with the household staff, Nava had been careful never to work by herself, especially when Aaron was nearby. And now she was alone with him.

“Look at me, Nava.” She lifted her eyes from the floor to his face. He had drunk a great deal of wine at dinner and his eyes looked bleary, his words sounded slurred. “Why don't you like me?” he asked.

“I . . . I don't understand. . . . You are my master. . . . I work for your father—”

“You know exactly what I mean,” he snarled, making the hairs on Nava's arms prickle. Her heart pounded harder. “I've seen you go out of your way to avoid me, and I want to know why.”

She could barely breathe. She stared at the floor again, trying to think. “Servants like me are supposed to stay in the background and—”

“You're lying! You know how I can tell? You're looking at your feet again and I told you to look at me.” She lifted her chin. “That's better. Now, don't you find me handsome, Nava my beauty? Your name suits you well, by the way. Very well. I could eat you up, like a luscious bowl of fruit.”

Fear brought tears to her eyes. She let them roll down her face without wiping them. “I'm in love with the man who climbed the wall to see me that one night. His name is Dan. We're going to be married when my service here is finished and—”

Aaron's harsh laughter cut off her words. “You belong to us for the next six years, Nava. You'd be a fool to believe your
hot-blooded young man will wait that long. I know I wouldn't. In fact, I don't want to wait another night.” He pulled himself to his feet, his eyes slowly scanning her from head to toe. Nava's skin crawled as she took a step back. Her tears fell faster. He could do whatever he wanted and she couldn't stop him.

“Please, my lord . . . I-I answered your question. . . . May I finish my work now?”

“I asked you if you found me handsome and you didn't answer me.”

What could she say? She didn't dare tell him that his deviousness made him repulsive to her, no matter what he looked like on the outside. If only the ground would open up and swallow her. Just as her knees began to go weak, she heard the housekeeper's voice behind her.

“What's taking you so long, Nava? This table should be all cleared by now and—oh. I'm sorry, Master Aaron. I didn't know you were still here. Do you need something, my lord?”

“I need Nava.” He spoke so softly that only she heard him.

“Pardon me, my lord?” the housekeeper asked. Nava took advantage of the interruption to grab the tray of dishes and flee to the kitchen. When the housekeeper, whose name was Ruth, joined her a moment later, Nava sat crouched on the floor beside the worktable, sobbing, her knees unable to hold her a moment longer. “What's wrong with you?” Ruth asked. “What happened in there?”

“Nothing happened . . . but . . . but—”

“Then why aren't you working?” The housekeeper was a sturdy, large-boned woman with a round face and coarse black hair, streaked with gray. She often carried a switch with her and Nava had seen her use it on servants who were lazy or idle. But Nava feared Aaron more than she feared Ruth.

“Master Aaron keeps watching me and trying to get me alone with him, and . . . and I'm terrified of him, Ruth. I know what he wants and . . . and I'm so scared!”

“You foolish girl. Stop crying. Stand up.” She grabbed Nava's arm and pulled her to her feet. “Don't you know that he has a right to take any bondservant he wants for his wife?”

“Yes, I know. That's why I'm so afraid!”

“If he wants you, that's a good thing. You would be mistress of this household. That's nothing to snivel and cry about.”

“But I don't love him. I love someone else and I don't want—”

“Wake up, Nava. You're a bondservant—a
female
bondservant. The bottom of the heap. Nobody cares what you want or don't want. If I had a chance to marry the master and be mistress of this household, believe me, I would take it.”

“But he won't marry me, Ruth. I've seen what Master Aaron is like. I've heard the lies he tells. Once he has his way with me, he'll deny that it ever happened. Nobody will believe me. And none of the other servants will stand up for me or tell Master Malkijah the truth.”

Ruth turned away and began taking the dishes off the tray, piling them near the basin of water to be washed. Nava waited for her to say something, but it was as if Nava had never spoken. “Please help me, Ruth. I-I don't know what to do.”

“You might be right about young Aaron. Everyone knows what he's like.” She picked up a plate and swished it in the water to wash it, then handed it to Nava to dry. “But even if he does have his way and refuses to do the honorable thing, it could mean your freedom. Don't you want to go home to your family? Six years is a long time.”

“Not for that price.” Her tears began falling again at the thought of having to tell Dan she was no longer a virgin. “I'm in love with a man from back home.”

“That fool who broke in here and woke everyone up?”

“Yes. And he may not want to marry me if . . .”

Ruth sighed and dropped more dishes into the water with a splash. “That's too bad, but there's nothing I can do about it.”
She gestured to the pile she had already washed. “Start drying. I'd like to get to bed before dawn.”

“Can't you please make sure I'm never alone with him? Make sure there's always someone else working with me? And that I don't have to walk back to my room alone at night? Please, Ruth.”

She sighed again. “I'll try. It's all I can promise you.”

“Thank you.” Nava felt only slightly relieved.

“You're a strange one, Nava. Most girls who are as pretty as you would use their beauty to their advantage. They wouldn't resist our handsome young master's attention, but use it to help them get ahead. I admire you for not acting foolishly. And I wish you luck. You'll need it.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because if Aaron is anything like our master, he'll get what he wants, one way or another. Master Malkijah always does.”

Nava barely slept, waking with nightmares that left her trembling and in tears. She was still struggling to recover the next morning when her master called all of his servants together in his central courtyard. Even the guards and farm laborers and shepherds had been ordered to come, as well as the kitchen and household staffs. They crowded into the estate's inner courtyard near the goat pens.

“I have an announcement to make,” Malkijah began. “Judah's new governor, Nehemiah ben Hacaliah, has drawn up plans to rebuild the wall around Jerusalem. He's asking every able-bodied man in the province to volunteer to join him so the work can be completed quickly.”

Nava had traveled to Jerusalem with her family for Passover and the other feasts and seen the miles and miles of crumbled wall surrounding the city. How could they rebuild that jumbled pile of burnt stones and rubble—and do it quickly? It seemed to her that the task would take years to complete. Wouldn't it be dangerous to try to shift such huge piles of stones? She wondered if Dan had volunteered. And if her father and brothers would also help.

“I'll be overseeing the repairs to the Dung Gate at the southern tip of the city,” Malkijah told them. “That means clearing away the rubble, restoring the surrounding stonework and supports, rebuilding the gatehouse and tower, and setting the doors and bolts and bars of the finished gate in place. All but the most essential laborers among you, such as a handful of guards and enough men to care for the animals, will move with me to Jerusalem to help me rebuild the gate. I'll also need to take additional kitchen and household staff with me to serve the needs of those workers. Penina and Ruth—I'll leave it up to you to decide who stays here and who you can spare.”

Nava heard whispering as everyone glanced around, wondering who would stay or go. As one of the newest servants, she would likely be left behind, stuck with the jobs that no one else wanted.

“I'll be traveling back home for Shabbat each week,” Malkijah said, raising his voice above the murmuring. “While I'm away, my sons Aaron and Josef will oversee my estate.”

His words sent a shiver of horror through Nava. She would have no protection at all with Master Malkijah and most of the servants away. She had to make sure she was among the workers who went to Jerusalem.

The moment her master dismissed everyone to their duties, Nava ran to plead with the housekeeper. Everyone else was trying to talk with her as well, some begging to stay, others pleading to be among those who went to Jerusalem. Nava had to wait until the very last servant had spoken her wishes, and she saw that Ruth was losing patience with this disruption to her well-ordered routine. The housekeeper headed toward the kitchen when the last servant had spoken with her and Nava hurried to jog along behind her.

“Not you, too,” Ruth said when she saw Nava. “What do you want?”

“Ruth, please! I can't stay here in Beth Hakkerem with Master Aaron in charge. You know what will happen.”

“The master and his guests are waiting for their breakfast. Grab that platter and put it on the table before the food gets stone-cold.”

Nava lifted the platter and followed Ruth into the dining area. Malkijah and his guests were already seated but she was relieved to see that Aaron wasn't there. She set the platter in the middle where they could all reach it, then continued to beg in a soft, urgent voice as she and Ruth returned to the kitchen for more food.

“Please help me. Please make sure I'm assigned to go to Jerusalem.”

“The master will want more experienced workers than you with him in Jerusalem. He may be entertaining other noblemen, or even the governor.”

“Please, Ruth! I'll do anything you say but please, please don't make me stay here with Master Aaron. Please!”

“That's enough, Nava!”

She wondered if she had gone too far and made Ruth angry. But a moment later the housekeeper mumbled, “I'll see what I can do.”

Nava wished she still believed in prayer. She would pray to be far, far away from Beth Hakkerem, far away from the danger. But why bother? The Almighty One never seemed to answer her prayers.