On This Foundation (35 page)

B
ETH
H
AKKEREM

S
weat dampened Nava's hair and the back of her tunic as she added more fuel to the cooking fire. She had spent the long, hot day standing over the hearth cooking lentils and chickpeas, stirring Penina's savory lamb stew, keeping the hearth fire going and the baking oven hot. Her master would return home from Jerusalem today, bringing guests, so the kitchen staff had to prepare an elaborate evening meal for them. Penina bustled around the courtyard shouting, “Watch what you're doing! . . . Be careful! Don't let that burn!” Everything had to be perfect.

Nava was drawing water from the well for her goats late in the afternoon when Master Malkijah and his guests arrived. She stood with her water jar, peering at the group as they dismounted near the stables, and it shocked her to see that one of the guests was the man who had conspired at dinner in Jerusalem. Her master had invited him to his estate—which meant that Malkijah was a traitor. Then Nava saw him help his fiancée, Chana, down from the saddle, and her remaining shards of hope vanished like snow in the sunshine. She couldn't expect any help from Chana if she was a traitor like the others. Nava
didn't understand how Chana could marry Malkijah knowing how greedy he was, how he refused to free his bondservants and cancel their debts. And that he was conspiring against Governor Nehemiah. As Malkijah's new wife, Chana would be on his side—and on Aaron's side—not Nava's. And she would be forced to continue working here for six long years.

She finished filling the water jar and finally let her bitter tears fall as she joined Shimon in the goat pen for the evening milking. “What's wrong, girlie?” he asked.

“I hate them! I hate them all!”

He sat down on his milking stool beside her with a sigh. “The Torah tells us not to seek revenge or bear a grudge. It says we must love our neighbor as we love ourselves.”

“You should hate them, too. Our masters are liars and traitors.”

“You have proof of that?”

“Yes. When I was in Jerusalem, I overheard Master Malkijah and another man conspiring against Governor Nehemiah—and now that man is one of Master's guests tonight.”

“Conspiring? What do you mean? What did they say?”

“There's a group of noblemen who think the governor has too much power, and they want to stop him. They don't want him to help all the poor people like us.”

Shimon stopped milking. He appeared shaken as he sat slump-shouldered on the stool. “I don't believe it of him. Malkijah wouldn't do something like that.”

“Well, he is doing it. Now do you see what kind of man he is? He's not only selfish and greedy, he wants power!”

Shimon still hadn't moved. “It isn't right,” he murmured. “What he's doing isn't right. And he knows better. . . .”

“Don't pray for him anymore, Shimon. He's a traitor. I wish I could think of a way to report him to the governor. I know Nehemiah is on our side. He tried to help us, and so now we should help him.”

“We're not going to say anything, girlie.”

“Why not? Why won't you speak up?”

“I don't want to see Malkijah ruined.”

“Well, I do. He deserves it.”

“Believe me, I want our master and his sons to see the greed in their hearts more than you'll ever know. I pray every day for them to change. But you and I can't change them. Even the governor wasn't able to make Malkijah be kind to the poor. Only God can change his heart.”

Shimon's attitude toward their master baffled Nava. “Why do you even care? Why not just walk away from here and be free? You would never have to see any of them again.”

He shook his head, his craggy face quivering as he battled his emotions. “I'll never leave here. I'll keep praying for Malkijah and his sons until the day I die.” He turned to face Nava and their eyes met. “And I'm praying for you, too.”

“That he'll set me free?”

“Yes. Free from the bitterness that's destroying you.”

She looked away and finished the evening milking without speaking to Shimon again. He was right. In spite of all her efforts, Nava had allowed the poisonous vine of bitterness to grow and flourish and strangle her heart. But didn't she have a right to be angry? Her master was a greedy man who cared nothing about her or his other servants. He'd raised his sons to be even greedier than he was. They'd taken Abba's land, his flock of goats, and his crops. And they had taken Nava away from the man she loved. Yes, she had a right to hate them.

She was still upset after she'd finished all her work and retired for the night. Penina was already asleep after a long day of cooking, but Nava tossed for what seemed like hours, growing angrier and angrier at the traitors who dined in splendor instead of helping the poor. She climbed out of bed again. Across the courtyard, Malkijah and his guests still sat in the dining area even though it was late in the evening. Nava decided to eaves
drop and find out what they were discussing. Maybe then she could figure out a way to report them to Governor Nehemiah before it was too late.

She left her sleeping quarters and crept through the kitchen area in the dark. Watchmen patrolled the gates and the perimeter of the walled compound at night, so she took the long way around to the open-air dining room, sneaking past the main house and beneath the bedchamber windows. She hid behind a pomegranate tree next to the house, crouching in the shadows, away from the light that spilled from the lampstands in the dining area. She waited for her breathing to slow and her heart to stop pounding, listening to the occasional laughter, the sound of tableware clinking. One of the guests loudly praised Master Malkijah's wine. But most of the time they talked in low, mumbling voices that she couldn't quite hear. She needed to inch closer.

Nava was searching the shadows for a hiding place closer to the dining room when she heard rustling footsteps behind her. But she'd heard them a moment too late. Before she could turn all the way around, someone grabbed her from behind, clamping his hand over her mouth. “Don't make a sound or I'll kill you right here,” he whispered. She recognized Aaron's voice, the scent of his clothes. Fear and panic squeezed her heart and stole her breath. She struggled and kicked and fought with all her strength, but he was much bigger and stronger than she was. He pinned her arms to her sides, his grip so tight she thought all her bones would break. His other hand pressed against her mouth, stifling her screams.

He lifted her up as if she weighed nothing at all and dragged her away from the dining room and into the darkness, heading toward the black void between the house and the wall of the compound. Nava was running out of air, out of strength. She couldn't keep fighting and struggling much longer. Aaron was going to have his way with her.

Lord, help me
! Help me, please!
she prayed. She was sorry for turning away from God, sorry for refusing to pray all these months—but she would do everything right from now on. She would serve Master Malkijah willingly and without bitterness for the next six years if only God would hear her prayer and save her.
Please, please help me!

Aaron pulled her to the ground and pinned her beneath his weight, knocking the air from her lungs. He tore her clothing with one hand while the other hand remained over her mouth. “Stop fighting me, or this will be even worse for you,” he said, his voice calm and cold. Nava kept fighting, knowing she would rather die than submit to him.

Suddenly the light of the stars above them disappeared behind a shadow. The dark shape of a man loomed above them.
Shimon
. He yanked Aaron from behind, lifting him and pulling him off Nava. As soon as Aaron's hand came away from her mouth, Nava began screaming for help. Shimon must have been watching over her all this time, and now he had come to rescue her. Aaron was so enraged that as soon as he rose to his feet and regained his balance, he punched the old man in the gut. Nava heard the sickening thuds as Aaron punched him again and again before shoving him roughly to the ground and kicking him.

But Nava's screams had brought help. She clutched her torn clothes around her as servants came running from every direction, including Penina and Ruth. Master Malkijah and Chana came, too. Aaron didn't have time to run away. Now they would all see what kind of man he was, what he had tried to do.

Chana quickly knelt beside Nava. “You poor girl. Are you hurt?”

“He came after me and . . . and threw me on the ground,” Nava sobbed. She looked around for Shimon to confirm her story, but he was still lying on the ground, moaning in pain from Aaron's blows.

“Please, everyone return to the table,” Malkijah told his guests. “This is nothing to worry about. Just a dispute between my servants. Pour everyone some more wine,” he told his house servants. He waited until the guests and most of his servants had gone away, then said, “Tell me what happened, Aaron.”

“I came outside for a walk, and I caught the old man attacking her. I stepped in to save her.”

“Liar!” Nava shouted. “He's lying! Aaron would have had his way with me if Shimon hadn't stopped him.”

“How dare you accuse my son of such a thing?”

“It's the truth! He's been following me for weeks, trying to get me alone. He even taunted me, saying he could do whatever he wanted to me and get away with it because no one would ever believe me.”

“She's making it all up, Father,” Aaron said calmly. “She thinks I'll have to marry her if she accuses me. The old man is probably in on it with her. I'll bet they staged this entire thing so they could trap me and accuse me. You know I wouldn't lower myself to be with a common servant.”

“What do you have to say, Shimon? Somebody help him up.”

One of the servants bent to help him, but Shimon cried out in pain. “No, don't! . . . I-I can't move . . . I think my hip is broken.”

This was the nightmare Nava had feared. Malkijah would believe his son, not her, not Shimon. She looked up at Penina and Ruth and the other remaining servants and pleaded with them in desperation. “We need to tell our master the truth. Penina, tell him what's been going on. Please! You've seen everything. You know! . . . Ruth, you know the truth, too. Somebody tell him!”

They all looked down at Shimon, still lying on the ground, his lip bleeding from being punched. “Yes,” he said with another groan. “Yes, it's time for the truth.” And as if in answer to Nava's prayers, one by one the other servants spoke up.

“I'm sorry to say it, my lord,” Ruth said, “but Master Aaron has been chasing after the girl for some time.”

“I've seen him with her, too,” Penina said. “She's terrified of him.”

“You've known Shimon since you were a boy, my lord,” Ruth added. “Do you honestly believe him capable of this?”

“Well, I certainly don't believe my son is capable of it.” Malkijah crouched beside Shimon and said, “Tell me the truth, old friend. What really happened?”

“The girl is telling the truth. Aaron tried to rape her. I've been following her, keeping an eye on her because I was afraid something like this might happen. When I tried to stop Aaron, he punched me and pushed me down.”

Malkijah rose to his feet again. Nava held her breath, waiting, wondering what he would do. “I don't know who to believe,” he finally said. “No son of mine would be capable of such a thing.” But the anger and certainty had gone out of his voice, replaced by shock and numbed disbelief. “Tell me the truth, Aaron.”

“I already did tell you, Father.” He was such an accomplished liar that he could look his father in the eye without flinching, remaining calm and cool. “I don't know why these servants have a grudge against me, but you can't possibly believe them. Maybe they're trying to get even with you for not setting them free. That girl is behind it all. She's a troublemaker.”

Malkijah spread his hands. “Who am I supposed to believe?”

He turned to Chana, who hadn't said a word since kneeling beside Nava. She looked up at Malkijah now and said softly, “I think you do know the truth in your heart.”

Malkijah's expression hardened in anger. Nava couldn't guess who it was directed at. “I need to return to my guests,” he said. “Go inside, Aaron. Someone get a litter and help Shimon to his bed. I'll deal with this tomorrow, after my guests leave.”

Chana rose to her feet. “Leave the servants to me, Malkijah, and go back to the table.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes. It will be my job to oversee them after we're married, won't it? Please make my excuses to our guests.”

Nava knelt beside Shimon while she waited for the men to fetch a litter, holding his hand tightly in hers, weeping at the sight of his bruised, bleeding body. “I'll never be able to thank you enough. You saved me, Shimon, you saved me! And now look at you. What can I do? How can I help you?”