The Crimson Cord: Rahab's Story (8 page)

“The crowds are growing restless, my prince. Shall I bring in the ungrateful wretch?” Dabir unclasped his hands, crossing them instead over his chest in a relaxed pose. He hid a smile when Nahid slowed his pacing and collapsed into his chair.

“I canceled his debt, Dabir. I showed Gamal more mercy than any man in this kingdom, and he repays me by throwing another man in prison for a much smaller sum? How could he do this to me? He’s made me look like a fool.”

“Nay, not at all, my prince. Gamal’s actions only make him look foolish and worthless, not you. If you hang the man and release the prisoner, you will be a hero to your people.” And grow richer taking all that belonged to Gamal
in the process. But Nahid would care more about his image than his coffers.

“I cannot hang Gamal.” He stood again, walked to a window, and pushed the curtain aside to peer into the outer court. “The crowd keeps growing. I have to do something or we will have a riot to contend with.”

Dabir moved a step closer to the prince, still keeping a distance. “Then you must do something to appease them. If you will not hang Gamal, then send him to the torturers until he pays the last amount.” Nahid did not answer, but Dabir recognized this as his way of thinking, of deciding his best course of action. “Assyria is said to have perfected the art of torture.”

“I cannot send him to such torturers.” The prince turned on him. “The man saved my life!”

“Then sell him to the wealthy merchants of Syria who frequent our town. You would never have to see him again, and they would pay a high price for one so large and young.”

“Gamal limps in pain. What good would he be to them?”

“I believe, my lord, that Gamal does not hurt nearly as much as he claims.”

The prince held his gaze, assessing. “You think he lied to me?”

“Without doubt, my lord.”

The prince turned to gaze again at the crowd. “I will sell him at auction to the highest bidder. What the Syrians do with him is of no concern to me.”

Dabir nodded. “A wise choice, my lord.” He paused for effect. “Might I add that you should consider that to gain the full benefit from the man, you must sell his wife and all that he has, as you would have done if you had not canceled his debt.”

The prince let the curtain fall closed and slowly turned to face Dabir. He stroked a hand over his clean-shaven chin. “You are right as usual, Dabir.” He straightened his back and walked with purposeful strides to the door of the audience chamber.

Dabir stepped forward. “My lord, if I may.” He waited as the prince turned.

“What is it?” He looked slightly irritated, but not impatient.

“I would like to buy Gamal’s wife.”

Nahid lifted a brow but said nothing.

“She and I . . . that is, I will be glad to pay her part to cover Gamal’s expenses, if she is willing to please me.”

Nahid courted a slow smile. “I underestimated you, Dabir. I would have not thought you capable of such . . . delightful unfaithfulness.”

Dabir took a step back and touched his temple. “I would not have thought so myself, but Rahab is . . .”

“Very beautiful?”

Dabir nodded and Nahid laughed. “Have Gamal brought to me now. Soon you shall have your little mistress.”

Men and women spread into the crowded streets, making it impossible to reach the steps of the Hall of Justice. Shouts erupted from all sides, and Rahab strained to understand the words.

“What are they saying?” Cala had a tight grasp of Rahab’s arm and leaned toward her ear to be heard.

Rahab tilted her head to listen and drew Cala closer as they weaved through a group of women, excusing themselves as they went.

“Free the Nubian! Death to the betrayer!” Others picked up the shouts until they grew to a full chant. The betrayer could only be Gamal. Rahab’s stomach twisted in dread.

She pushed her way closer, dragging Cala behind her until at last she found a spot near the bottom of the steps where the overhanging roof created a swatch of shade. The chanting nearly drowned out all ability to hear, but one look at Cala told her what her sister was thinking. If Gamal were brought out to face this mob of accusers, they would hang him on the spot.

She moved like an unseeing one, vaguely aware of Cala still clutching her arm.

“Where are you going?” Cala hissed in her ear.

Rahab scanned the street, watching the mouths move, but their voices could not penetrate the fog that had suddenly blanketed her.

“Rahab! Listen to me! We shouldn’t be here.” Cala’s frantic tone and the pain of her nails digging into Rahab’s arm got her attention.

“What?” She shook herself, but the detached feeling would not leave. She faced her sister. “I have to get to Dabir. I can’t let them do this to Gamal.”

Cala looked aghast. “You can’t.” She tightened her grip, though Rahab tried to shake free. “Rahab, you aren’t thinking clearly. If you go to Dabir, they will capture you. Do you honestly think even he will listen to you? You are a poor wife of a worthless man. And what if they order Gamal’s death? Do you think you will go unscathed?” Cala tugged her away from the steps, but Rahab held her ground.

“I have to, Cala. Dabir and I . . . that is . . .” She stopped, heat creeping up her neck. She was nothing to Dabir.

“You think because you spent one night with the man he owes you something?”

Rahab darted glances around them and leaned closer. “I never told you that.”

“Yes, you did.”

Rahab searched her mind. “I don’t recall it.”

“Perhaps I heard it at the well. You can be sure Dabir spoke of it or Gamal heard it. There are no secrets in this walled town.” Cala touched her middle, and Rahab suddenly realized she should not have brought her here.

“Go home, Cala. You should not have come.” The chanting of the crowd grew to a deafening roar. Surely the prince would do something to stop them before a riot broke out.

“I’m not leaving you,” Cala shouted above the din.

Rahab wove them closer to the raised porch where the prince or the king often conducted final judgments. She glanced at the blocked double doors to the Hall of Justice and the guards flanking the surrounding portico. She would never reach Dabir now. But she pulled them closer to the porch, where at last trumpets sounded and flag bearers preceded the prince, Dabir at his right hand.

Behind them, guards lifted the arms of a prisoner whose robe had been stripped from him, his arms and feet shackled with heavy chains. Rahab barely recognized him with his long hair now shaven and his beard gone. The chanting ceased.

“Gamal, son of Bakri, why did you despise my mercy and do this thing?” Prince Nahid’s tone held no warmth, and Dabir’s expression no pity.

Rahab’s stomach churned with worry too deep for words.

“It is no longer in my power to spare you, Gamal. As you have no defense for your actions and I am loath to demand
your death, I order you to be sold at auction to the highest bidder, along with your wife and all that you have. Take him to debtors’ prison to await his outcome.”

Cheers erupted from the crowd as guards surrounded Gamal and lifted him from the floor. There was no time for apologies or goodbyes.

Cala slipped an arm around Rahab’s waist as if to hold her up. “We must go.” She tugged again when Rahab did not respond.

Cala shoved past and around shouting men and dancing women, until at last they broke free of the city’s town square. Cala stopped at last on a quieter street in the shade of a date palm, one of many lining Jericho’s boulevards. She released her grip on Rahab’s arm and put both hands on her knees, drawing breath.

“We shouldn’t have come,” Rahab said, though her voice seemed oddly unlike her own. “I should have listened to you.”

Cala straightened. “It is better to know than to wonder. No matter how bad the outcome.”

Rahab nodded. “They will come for me soon. Dabir will make sure of it.” The memory of his pitiless frown would not abate, blocking every good feeling she had known for the man.

“Then we will hide you from them.”

Rahab stared at her. “There is no place Dabir’s arm does not reach.”

Exhaustion lined Cala’s face, and Rahab suddenly realized it was her sister who needed to hide, to rest.

“Come. Before I do anything else, I am taking you home.”

6

W
e can’t let them take her.” Cala spoke, arms crossed, before her husband and Rahab’s father and brothers. Rahab stood in the shadows with her mother’s arms pressed tight around her waist as though she would never release her. “It’s not her fault that Gamal ruined her life. She tried to stop him!”

“What do you expect us to do, woman? We can’t stop the prince’s edict. She will be sold along with Gamal.” Tzadok glanced Rahab’s way but looked quickly beyond her, his guilt evident. If he had kept his mouth shut, Gamal would not have been taken into custody.

“Gamal has brought ruin on his mother and father, his wife, and all of us.” Her father Sadid’s quiet words caused even the birds to still their chirping outside of the window of her sister’s house, where everyone had gathered.

Tzadok turned to face Rahab’s father, his bearing tall and proud. “Gamal’s debt is his own. They can’t force it upon any of us.”

“How foolish you are, my son, to think the king and his son
incapable of anything. They can do whatever they please.” Her father straightened, the lines of his face drawn into deep grooves, revealing a lifetime of work and worry. Rahab couldn’t bear to see him suffer so on her account.

She squeezed her mother’s shoulders, then extracted herself from the woman’s frightened grip and came to kneel at her father’s side. “Abba, do not fear for yourselves because of me. I will speak to Dabir and offer him whatever he wishes to keep you out of it.” She patted his knee and smiled, despite the look of doubt that still lingered in his eyes.

She stood and faced her brothers. “I will do all I can to protect you.” Dabir’s scowl flashed in her mind’s eye once more, and one glance at Cala told her they both doubted her ability to do as she’d promised.

“When are they auctioning Gamal?” This from her brother Hazim.

“At dawn.” Rahab glanced at the window. The sun edged near its setting place, its orange glow like a brilliant gem. Perhaps she could reach Dabir even yet tonight.

“We must hide you, Rahab. Our men can keep you safe.” Adara’s innocent voice spoke as she quietly emerged from the shadows. She looked to their father. “Please, Abba, do something to help Rahab. This is not her fault.”

Rahab glimpsed the quick flash of memory in her father’s gaze, the look of guilt he still bore. After Gamal had grown distant, even hostile, toward her family, her father had regretted his choice of husband for her. Though he had never voiced his thoughts, she knew it in every unguarded moment when Gamal was in his presence.

She walked to Adara’s side and touched her arm. “Little one, do not fret so. I can take care of myself.”

“You are a woman! No woman is safe alone.” Adara straightened, revealing the beginning curves of one grown. What would the crown do to her sister if Rahab did not stop them? They must not even know of her existence.

“I am a woman of age, dear Adara. When you marry, you will understand.” She touched her sister’s shoulders and looked into her eyes. “You must keep quiet about Gamal. Do not tell anyone that you even know him.”

“But they already know.” Her wide eyes showed increasing fear.

“They will forget.” She bent to kiss Adara’s forehead. “Promise me.”

Adara nodded, but she did not look convinced.

“Rahab is right,” their father said. “She knows how to handle difficult men.” His gaze met Rahab’s in an understanding look of acceptance. “I am simply sorry she has had to learn to do so.”

She knelt at his side and again touched his knee. “So you will let me go to Dabir?”

“I have no doubt he will find you whether you go to him or not.”

Rahab nodded. “Which is why I will go home now and wait for them to come. If they come here, none of you will be safe.” She stood, straightened her cloak, then bent to kiss her father’s cheek. As she turned, she felt herself swept into her mother’s clinging embrace. A soft whimper escaped her mother’s lips, but a moment later she released her with a worried sigh.