On This Foundation (32 page)

“Don't waste their time—or mine. I'll simply come right back. I admire you a great deal, Governor. Now kindly return the favor and respect my right to help my father the best way I know how.”

“You are the most frustrating . . . stubborn . . . exasperating woman I have ever met!” His shout drew attention, and he looked away from her for a moment, staring up at the temple mount as if trying to cool his temper. “Listen, I need to attend the sacrifice now and pray for your father. But this conversation isn't over.”

Chana stayed until dusk, the work distracting her from her worry for short periods of time. As the first stars appeared, she returned home to see how Abba was doing. Yudit's distraught face told her he wasn't any better. “He's getting worse, Chana. He can hardly breathe.”

She went into his bedroom and sat down beside him, listening to his labored breaths. It made her chest ache to hear him. “Please don't die, Abba,” she whispered. “Dear Lord, please don't let him die.”

The thread that tethered Chana to the Almighty One seemed gossamer thin. But she closed her eyes and prayed, determined to hang on to it tightly and not let go.

J
ERUSALEM

N
ehemiah was relieved to see his youngest brother waiting for him in the temple courtyard for the evening sacrifice. “Did you hear what happened to Shallum a few hours ago?” he asked Hanani without a word of greeting. “What do you know about the scorpion's sting? Is it fatal?”

“It can be. And so can exhaustion. Look at you! Why don't you go home and rest? For weeks you've been staying up all night, running all over the city by day, walking around the wall countless times—you can't keep this up, you know.”

“I manage to catch a few hours of sleep here and there. How are you and Ephraim holding up? And how is our workers' morale?”

“Everyone was shaken by what happened to Shallum today. It could have been any of us. We've all been digging through the rubble, handling stones, reaching into all the places where scorpions like to hide.”

“We need to pray for him. And for the work. And for help against our enemies. If we don't take time to pray, we may as well not bother to do anything else.”

They took their places in the men's courtyard and Nehemiah
closed his eyes, letting the music soothe him as the Levites sang the liturgy.
“Find rest, O my soul, in God alone;
my hope comes from him.”
He remembered how he used to rise early in the morning to pray when he lived in Susa, confessing his sins to the Almighty One, relying on Him for strength and discernment. And he also remembered how God had answered his prayers and brought him this far, helping him accomplish the work he had set out to do.

“He alone is my rock and my
salvation; he is my fortress, I will not be shaken
.”
Ever since facing opposition, Nehemiah had wrestled with the question of whether it was a warning from God that he was headed in the wrong direction, or whether the enemy's attacks were designed to keep him from his God-given task. When he prayed here at the temple, closing his eyes to everything else and silencing the turmoil inside, Nehemiah knew he was following God. He needed to persevere and not give up.

“Trust in him at all
times, O people; pour out your hearts to him, for
God is our refuge.”
He silently thanked the Almighty One for successful victories over their attackers. And as the priest entered the sanctuary to light the incense, Nehemiah prayed for strength to complete his work, for continued protection from his enemies, and for God's healing hand to be upon Shallum.
“One thing God has spoken, two things have I
heard: that you, O God, are strong, and that you
, O Lord, are loving.”

Nehemiah was still thinking about Shallum when the sacrifice ended, and he remembered Shallum's obstinate daughter. “She went back to work on the wall,” he told Hanani as they walked back across the courtyard.

“Who did? What are you talking about now?”

“That muleheaded woman, Shallum's daughter. Remember how we tried to get her to stop working on the wall once before? Well, she was finally forced to stop when the threat of attacks made it too dangerous. But she's back again. She says she's
taking her father's place as supervisor. Of all the ridiculous things to do! You need to stop her, Hanani.”

“Me? I didn't get anywhere with her last time. And then her fiancé, Malkijah, came to her defense, too.”

“I forgot that she was betrothed to Malkijah. . . . I heard that he didn't take the oath, Hanani. I don't know what to make of that.”

Hanani shook his head in bewilderment. “You're rambling. For everyone's sake, get some rest.”

Nehemiah saw his other brother heading toward the stairs and signaled to him to stop and wait. He was relieved to see that Ephraim, like Hanani, wore an armored breastplate and carried a sword. “You look like you've wrestled with a pack of lions and lost,” Ephraim told him. “You're going to wear yourself out.”

“I told him the same thing,” Hanani said. “He doesn't listen.”

“You may be right,” Nehemiah said, “but before I do wear out, I'm going to finish this wall.”

“Do you even bother to eat?”

“When necessary.”

Ahead of them, a small crowd had gathered near the top of the stairs to hear a woman shouting in an age-wizened voice. “Now what?” Nehemiah murmured, remembering how the last protest had halted construction. He was tall enough to look over the people's heads and see a wrinkled, gray-haired woman who stood with upraised hands, gazing toward heaven in ecstasy.

“The Holy One of Israel is with His people,” she said, “and His hand is on His servant Nehemiah. There is a king in Judah! Therefore rejoice and be glad in His chosen king who has brought us victory over our enemies, and rebuilt the ruins of Jerusalem. Rejoice and be glad, O people, for there is a king in Judah who feeds you as in days of old and who looks upon the needs of the poor. . . .”

Nehemiah turned and hurried down the stairs without wait
ing to hear more. He didn't know why, but her words made him uncomfortable. So did being in crowds, where the people often reached out to touch him and thank him. “What did you make of that?” he asked his brothers when they were out of earshot. “Who is she?”

“Her name is Noadiah, and this is the third or fourth time I've heard her,” Hanani said. “She's been showing up all over the city, saying pretty much the same thing. This is the first time I heard her speak at the temple, though.”

“I've heard her before, too,” Ephraim said. “Her ‘prophecies' rub me the wrong way.”

“Why?” Hanani asked. “She's only trying to encourage the people.”

“Nehemiah isn't our king. She shouldn't even imply such a thing. . . . I'll see you tomorrow.” He continued down the street instead of turning toward their residence.

“Ephraim, wait.” Nehemiah jogged to keep up with him. Hanani did, too. “Where are you going?”

“I'm on night duty at the Dung Gate.”

“Would it do any good at all for me to ask you not to go?” Nehemiah said. “We have plenty of other volunteers now.”

“Save your breath. I would never forgive myself if someone got killed guarding my home and my family while I stayed where it was safe. . . . There's Malkijah. I need to speak with him before he leaves.”

“Wait,” Nehemiah called again. His brother halted, looking impatient. “You've been working alongside Malkijah for a while now. Can I ask you a question about him?” Ephraim nodded. “Someone told me that he broke his oath and didn't free his bondservants or cancel their debts. Do you know if that's true?”

“I have no idea. Ask him yourself.”

“And while you're at it,” Hanani added, “you can talk to him about Shallum's daughter. Malkijah is betrothed to her.”

Being reminded of Chana made Nehemiah angry all over
again. Didn't he have enough to worry about without adding her to his list? He pushed his anger aside for now as he approached Malkijah, determined not to confront him with everything at once. “I see you're making excellent progress,” Nehemiah began. “You took on a very critical task with this gate because it's at the junction of the three valleys. And you've had the added responsibility of safeguarding the King's Pool. Great work!”

“Thank you, Governor.”

“I suppose you heard what happened to Shallum today?”

Malkijah's smile faded to a look of concern. “Yes, he's my father-in-law. I'm going up to see him now that Ephraim is here to take over.”

“I spoke with his daughter earlier. She has taken it upon herself to work in Shallum's place after he was injured.”

“Chana? What do you mean—on the wall?”

“Yes. She says she's supervising the construction for him. I asked her to stop and warned her that she's in danger, but she wouldn't listen. I was hoping you could talk some sense into her.”

“I'll try. . . . But I can't promise I'll succeed. One of the things that attracted me to Chana was her lively spirit. I gave her my word before we were betrothed that I wouldn't force her to do anything against her will. I don't think it's a husband's place to order his wife around.”

“Even when she's in danger?”

“Knowing Chana, this is something she probably needs to do, especially after what happened to her father today. She wants to rebuild the wall in order to protect the people she loves.”

The frustrating thing was that Nehemiah understood how Chana felt, what motivated her. If she weren't a woman, he would applaud her courage. “There's something else, Malkijah . . . I'm very reluctant to speak to you about this, but I don't like gossip and rumors. I always prefer to learn the truth myself, whenever possible. Is it true that you didn't cancel your debtors' loans or free your bondservants when all of the other nobles did?”

Malkijah lifted his chin. “Yes, it's true.”

The young man named Dan had told the truth. It wasn't a rumor.

Malkijah's steady gaze never wavered. “I never took the oath at the temple, Governor, so I'm not guilty of breaking it.”

“May I ask why you didn't?”

“Because my estate couldn't function if I had. I need workers, especially during this drought, so I can harvest enough food to survive and pay my taxes.”

“But your workers are growing resentful, especially after watching their neighbors go free.”

“I can't set them free right now. I'm sorry.”

“Might you be willing to reconsider after the harvest? The peace between the rich and poor is very fragile right now.”

“I will gladly open my books to you,” Malkijah said, his tone growing heated. “I'll show you all the ways I'm helping the poor, the things I've done for the good of the people in my district. It's true that I still have bondservants, but I'm feeding them and their families. And I'm not charging interest on their loans as I continue to carry them. My workers have no cause to be resentful.”

Nehemiah didn't know what to think. He paused for such a long time that Malkijah finally said, “I can see you're disappointed in me. If you'd like, I'll resign as commander and reassign the construction of this gate to whomever you choose. I'll return to my property in Beth Hakkerem.”

Again, Nehemiah didn't reply, his sleep-deprived mind taking longer to think and to reach a decision. “That won't be necessary, Malkijah,” he finally said. “Carry on.” He walked away, wondering if he had just lost a trusted friend and supporter—or if Malkijah had only pretended to be one from the beginning.

J
ERUSALEM

T
ime seemed to slow as Chana sat cross-legged on the floor at her father's bedside, listening to his tortured breathing, his weary moans. He awoke again as night fell and looked over at her, his pain-filled eyes swollen nearly shut. “I'll fetch some more elixir,” she said, scrambling to her feet.

“Not yet, my angel. Sit by me.” His voice sounded tight and hoarse, as if it pained him to speak. Chana sat down and took his uninjured hand in hers, kissing the back of it. “Chana, don't grieve again if I die.”

“Abba—”

“Be happy with Malkijah. . . . I trust him with you and your sisters.”

“Please don't talk this way. You'll live, I know you will.”

“God willing, Chana . . . God willing . . . But don't stop singing, my little bird. Don't sink into that well of grief again. Promise me.”

Chana met his gaze, her vision blurred by tears. “I promise,” she whispered. She would keep her word. Abba nodded slightly and tried to smile.

“And if I die, Chana . . . don't ask God, ‘Why?' Ask, ‘How?' . . . How can I make the world a better place? How can I show His love?”

Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I will, Abba.”

“I'm praying for my three girls . . . that He'll keep you strong.” He smiled and closed his eyes again. “Sing for me now, my angel. . . .”

She choked back the knot in her throat and began to sing softly to him.
“As
the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul
pants for you, O God. . . .”

In the past few months since work began on the wall, Chana knew she had finally grown up. She'd faced the truth about her betrothal to Yitzhak and seen the ugliness of her self-pitying grief for him. She'd learned what it meant to make a commitment and keep her word, deciding to trust Malkijah and not annul their betrothal. Abba also had given his word when he'd signed her ketubah and when he'd committed to rebuilding the wall. Chana would do everything in her power to help her father be a man of his word. So many decisions in her life weren't hers to make, but these were.

“By day the Lord directs his love, at night his
song is with me—a prayer to the God of
my life. . . .”
She thought of Queen Esther as she watched Abba drift in and out of sleep. Esther's life had also been under others' control. She'd been orphaned, carried into exile, forced to join the king's beauty contest, chosen for his harem, then marked for execution. Yet Esther had shown courage and intelligence as she'd used the means available to her to bring about change. Chana wondered what means she had available to change things in her loved ones' lives.

“Put your hope in God,
for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my
God. . . .”
In spite of her ongoing argument with Governor Nehemiah, she respected him and the work he was trying to accomplish. That's why worry over the conspiracy that Nava had overheard—and Malkijah's part in it—continued to plague
Chana. Her father was a district leader, loyal to Nehemiah; she should report what she knew for Abba's sake. But how could she do that without betraying Malkijah?
Lord, show me what to do
, she prayed.

Chana was deep in thought, asking the Almighty One for help, when her sister Yudit came to the bedroom door. “Malkijah is here. He wants to talk to you.” Yudit took Chana's place at Abba's bedside while Chana rose and went out to where Malkijah stood waiting in the courtyard. A crescent moon hovered just above the wall and stars filled the sky above Jerusalem. They had no right to shine so brightly, so beautifully, with Abba so gravely ill.

“Was that you singing, just now?” he asked. “It sounded beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“How is your father? And how are you?” Malkijah looked as weary as the governor had, his eyelids drooping when he blinked as if they wanted to remain closed. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Everyone keeps asking that. I don't think there's much anyone can do. We're trying to relieve his pain and the swelling with poultices. Now we just have to wait.”

“I heard you're taking his place, supervising his section of the wall.”

She exhaled. “News travels fast in Jerusalem. . . . Please don't ask me to stop, Malkijah.”

He started to speak, then didn't. Chana waited. “At least let me send a bodyguard to protect you,” he finally said.

“That's not necessary.”

“Chana, remember your concern when I injured my hand?” He held it up for her to see, the linen bandage dazzlingly white in the moonlight. “Can you imagine how I must feel, knowing the danger you're in when you're outside the wall? Our enemies could shoot arrows from a distance without warning.”

“How will a bodyguard help against arrows?”

“He'll give me peace of mind.” She didn't reply, chafing at the idea of having a watchdog trailing behind her. “I have so many things on my mind right now, Chana, including my concern for your father and for you. Don't make me add one more to them by refusing to take a guard with you.”

She nodded her agreement, sorry for her stubbornness. “If it would ease your mind.”

“It would. I can imagine how worried you must be about your father. If you need to talk about it . . .”

Chana was about to say that she had Yudit and Sarah to talk to, then realized that maybe Malkijah needed someone to confide in. He had just told her he had many things on his mind right now, and she wondered if the conspiracy was one of them. Maybe Chana could work behind the scenes, like Queen Esther, and talk him out of joining it. If Malkijah trusted her, perhaps he would listen to her.

She surprised him by taking his hand and leading him up to her rooftop, where they could be alone. The shadow of the wall loomed above them in the darkness, blocking out the moon. “Maybe it would help if you talked to me about these things that occupy your mind,” she said. “I can see that you need rest.”

“Do I really look that bad?”

“Yes. How long has it been since you went home to eat and sleep and change your clothes?”

He smiled. “I can't remember.”

“Tell me what's worrying you, Malkijah.”

His smile faded. He stared into the distance, taking a long time to reply. “I think I've lost the governor's trust. He's disappointed in me for not taking his oath.” He looked at her again and said, “I know you were disappointed in me, too. I tried to explain to him why I couldn't do it, but I'm not sure he understood. I even offered to resign.”

“What did he say?”

“He wouldn't accept my resignation. But the loss of his
confidence worries me, especially now. I need him to trust me more than ever.”

“Why?” she asked, dreading his reply.

Again, he hesitated as his mind seemed to wrestle with something. “Chana, I need your help. I need to tell you something that no one else knows. But first I have to be sure I have your complete trust.”

Her heart raced as she paused to think. She had pledged her life to him, and their marriage had to be based on trust. Abba had just said that he entrusted all three of his daughters to Malkijah's care if he died. And now Malkijah needed her help. She took his hand again. “Yes. You have my trust.”

He let out the breath he'd been holding. “I was asked to join a group of noblemen who are plotting against the governor. I pretended interest so I could find out who is behind it, and I got them to give me one more name—Shecaniah ben Arah. That means Tobiah the Ammonite is involved, because he's married to Shecaniah's daughter. Tobiah has been trying to gain power here in Judah for a long time. He probably wants to govern in Nehemiah's place. I've agreed to meet with the group again so I can find out what their plans are and who else is involved in the conspiracy. Then I can warn Governor Nehemiah—if he'll still listen to me.”

“Why don't you tell him now?”

“He has too many men surrounding him. Until I learn who some of the other conspirators are, I can't trust anyone. Some of the men closest to Nehemiah might be involved. Even his brothers, for all I know.”

“But if this goes too far and you get caught, everyone will think you're a traitor.”

“I know, I know. That's why I'm telling you. I may need you to back up my story.”

She felt frightened for him and very worried. He walked a dangerous path. Then an idea for how she could help began
to form in her mind. “Nehemiah makes his rounds every day, inspecting the progress on the wall,” she said. “When he comes to my father's section tomorrow, I'll talk to him in private and tell him everything you just told me about the conspiracy. I'll tell him you aren't a traitor but that you're trying to find out who the rebels really are.”

“Make sure you're alone with him, Chana, and that no one else is listening—not even his brothers or the trumpeter he takes everywhere.”

“Should I tell him about Shecaniah ben Arah?”

“Yes. And tell him that Meshullam is the man who asked me to join. Meshullam also has ties by marriage to Tobiah. I know Nehemiah has received letters from Tobiah, trying to intimidate him into forming an alliance, but tell the governor that neither Tobiah nor his father-in-law nor his son-in-law can be trusted. They're behind this conspiracy.”

“I will.”

“And, Chana, Nehemiah's life may be in danger. He shouldn't trust anyone until I find out who else is involved.”

“Please be careful, Malkijah.”

“I will.” He patted the sword that hung from his belt. “I have to go. Thanks for your help.”

Chana walked downstairs with him, knowing she wouldn't sleep, knowing she not only needed to pray for her father but also for Malkijah and the governor.

“And, Chana . . .” Malkijah said before closing her gate, “don't leave this house tomorrow without the guard I'm sending.”