This Scarlet Cord (26 page)

Tamur nodded, as if he had already had the same idea.

The high priest asked, “Do you mean the Israelites might have agents in the city whose job it is to spread unrest?”

“That could easily be so,” said the military commander, Akiz. “With the numbers of people pouring into the city, it would not be hard for spies to hide among the crowds.”

Tamur nodded again.

Arazu said, “My lord, I think we should find out exactly who these people are who are spreading the frightening tales about the Israelites.”

Tamur spoke crisply, “I agree, Lord Arazu, and I have ordered some men from the guard to dress in ordinary clothes so they can mix with the populace. These rumors are coming from the Lower City, and your fear that spies might be among us is a thought I have had myself.”

“Of course it’s coming from the Lower City,” Lord Edri muttered. His rodent’s face was clenched with anger. “The riffraff are the only ones stupid enough to believe our walls can be breached.”

“We must watch the gate closely, my lord,” one of the younger men said. “Spies might already be here, but we do not want any more coming in.”

Akiz said, “That is being taken care of.”

“Very well, then,” the king said, standing up. “We will begin setting up the tents right away. And I do not want to hear any complaints from the nobility about ‘riffraff’ in the Upper City. I will leave you your houses, but the parks will have tents in them.”

Lord Arazu bowed his head. “Yes, my lord.”

The council broke up, leaving the new young king satisfied that he had the city under control.

Twenty-Five

L
ORD
N
AHSHON HAD POUNCED ON
S
ALA WHEN HE
returned to the inn after his visit with Rahab.

“Come upstairs,” he said, then closed his hand around his son’s arm as if he was taking no chances of Sala running away again. Once they were in their small room, Lord Nahshon dropped Sala’s arm and the two men faced each other.

“So, did you manage to see her?” Nahshon demanded. He was doing his best to control his anger.

“Yes, Father, I did see her and she told me exactly what happened on the night of the festival. It’s a bit different from the official story being circulated around the city.”

As Sala began to recount the events of Rahab’s interrupted sacred marriage, Nahshon listened with only part of his mind. The other part was focused on his son and not on his words.

Sala had changed since they came to Jericho. Lord Nahshon had noticed changes before, but now they struck him forcefully. His son was no longer a boy. He didn’t even look like a boy anymore. His face had thinned and the fine bone structure was more evident than it had been in the fullness of the younger face. Sala had never had an awkward moment, even as a youngster, but that childish grace had turned into lithe male strength. Above all, the change was in his eyes. He looked upon his father with respect, but the adoration was gone. Sala was his own man now. Part of Nahshon felt proud that his son had grown into a man he could admire, but part of him grieved for the boy that was gone.

“Rahab prayed to Elohim,” Sala was saying, and Nahshon’s full attention abruptly focused on his son’s words.

“What do you mean, she prayed to Elohim?”

“I mean that she turned away from her false gods and called to Elohim to help her. And Elohim heard her, Father. Just think: the king dropped dead right there in the bed, before he could do her any harm! Is that not a sign that Rahab has found favor in Elohim’s eyes?”

Nahshon turned away from this suddenly mature Sala and went to stand at the tiny window that had been cut through the wall to provide some air to the room. He was quiet for a long time, thinking about what Sala had said. He knew his son was infatuated with this Canaanite girl, and it disgusted him. Nahshon had begun to think of Rahab as the enemy, someone he had to fight for the soul of his son.

He turned and said, “How did a pagan girl like Rahab come to know of Elohim?”

“I told her about Him. Even when we were small and she was staying with us in Ramac, she was curious about my beliefs. Rahab is not like other women, Father. She is interested in things beyond housework. She is smart. And she is brave too. You saw that for yourself. How many other girls would have been able to get away from those slavers?”

“She is beautiful,” Lord Nahshon said coldly. “A woman who looks like that can make a man believe almost anything.”

Sala’s eyes flashed. “She was not lying to me. She prayed to Elohim and the king died before he could harm her! How much proof do you need, Father, that she is special to Elohim?”

“How do you know he didn’t harm her? You have only her word.”

Sala’s cheeks flushed red with anger. “The priestess at the shrine examined her. If the act had been consummated, then the prince would not have had to make a second sacred marriage. It would have already been accomplished. But Rahab is pure. You have only to look into her eyes to know that!”

Lord Nahshon did not want to alienate Sala, so he tried for a mild voice. “Perhaps you are right. Perhaps Elohim does have a use for this girl.”

Sala’s look was intense. “I’m certain of it, Father. Elohim has some plan that is as yet unclear to us. But it will unveil itself in time, and we must be ready.”

Nahshon began to pace around the tiny space. The less said about Rahab the better, he thought. He changed the subject. “I am expecting to hear from Joshua at any time now. People are still pouring in to the city, which makes a perfect opportunity for spies to slip in unnoticed. We should start spending the whole day at the wine bar, not just the mornings. We must be there when they come looking for us. If two men who do not speak Canaanite are caught, the king will immediately assume they are Israelite spies and execute them. We cannot allow that to happen.”

“Language
is
going to be a problem,” Sala said. “We can’t speak to them in the wine bar if we’re going to be speaking Hebrew—we’ll have to bring them here.”

Lord Nahshon was happy his son’s mind seemed to have swung away from that girl. “Yes, I suppose we will. There are so many people crammed into the inn right now that they won’t even be noticed.”

Sala’s brows drew together. “The biggest problem is how to get them out of the city once they are in. There may still be many people coming in, but few are going out.”

“There is still some traffic going out, though. Men are leaving to bring in more provisions from their farms while they can. They will just have to be careful.”

They both were quiet, thinking about this. Then Sala said, “Joshua needs to act soon. If he waits too long, the scouts
will
have trouble. Tamur is more astute than his father. He will be on the lookout for spies.”

“True.”

“Father, if they don’t come, then I think I should try to get out of the city myself and go to the Israelite camp. Joshua needs to know that the north wall is the place to attack. It’s definitely the most vulnerable spot in the city.”

Lord Nahshon’s heart stopped at the thought of risking his only son. “Don’t be a fool, Sala. You have no experience traveling under cover. You don’t even know exactly where the Israelite camp is! We will do as we arranged and wait for Joshua’s men.”

Sala didn’t reply, but Nahshon didn’t like the stubborn look in his son’s eyes. He had been willing to let Sala come to Jericho with him because he burned to be part of the Israelite conquest, and he had also thought the mission would be safe. His son was everything to him—the whole future of the family lay in Sala’s hands. Nothing must happen to him.

“They will come,” Nahshon repeated firmly. “Joshua is being led to Jericho by Elohim, just as Moses was led through the desert. We must be patient and keep watch.”

Sala lowered his eyes. “Yes, Father.”

“The gates have been closed for the night, but tomorrow we must start to spend the whole day in the wine bar. We can take turns to give each other a rest.”

Sala nodded agreement. “We are to recognize them by a red cord that will be hanging from their belt, am I right?”

“That is the plan.” Lord Nahshon put his hand on his son’s arm. “Come,” he said. “Let us go now and have some supper before the courtyard gets too crowded.”

As the days went by, Mepu still would not allow Rahab to leave the house. “You cannot show yourself to those lecherous men who hang about wanting a look at you. It is not modest. We’ll have enough trouble finding you a husband after this misfortune with the sacred marriage; you must not do anything to make things worse.”

Then, on a particularly warm and sunny day, the rest of Rahab’s brothers, their wives, and their children showed up at the house seeking refuge from the Israelite army. Mepu was relieved that all his family would now be safe, but there was no doubt the new arrivals put stress upon the household. At night sleeping mats were strewn all over the house, even in the kitchen. The children, who were accustomed to being outdoors with space to play in, were cranky. The house was hot and stuffy and Rahab began to feel she would go mad if she didn’t get outside for a while, but Mepu held firm.

Atene and Rahab were sharing their room with two other sisters-in-law and their four children. At night the entire floor was covered with sleeping mats. During the day she and Atene fled to the roof in the pretense of working on the flax. Mepu wanted Kata to take the flax down so there would be room on the roof for sleeping mats, but Kata refused. The flax would come down soon enough, she said; it was almost ready to be stripped and combed into fibers. They would be happy to have the ability to make clothes if they were forced to remain in this horrible city for a long time.

Mepu, who recognized the burden all of these extra people had placed upon his wife, decided to bide his time and not overrule her.

Mepu’s brother’s house next door was also overflowing with family from the countryside. The whole of Jericho had become a rabbit warren with people living in every possible nook and cranny.

In the midst of all the babble and confusion, Shemu found himself thinking more and more about the two Israelite merchants who had come at such a propitious time to buy merchandise from Jericho farmers. The rumors about spies in the city were all over the place, and Shemu began to wonder if in fact Lord Nahshon and Sala might be the very ones who were the source of the rumors that had the city so frightened.

One day Shemu decided to seek them out at the Sign of the Olive.

The wine bar was packed when Shemu entered. All of the public places in the city were packed these days. There were no more homeless people since the king had ordered tents erected in every possible open place, but during the day the men all crammed into the wine bars to get away from the press of women and children.

Shemu had the opposite problem. Instead of wanting to get away from his wife, he wanted to be with her—alone. He missed her desperately. All he could manage these days was to squeeze her hand whenever they met in the midst of the crowd. They had lost their bedroom when the rest of the family arrived, and he didn’t know when they would be able to get it back. Shemu’s temper had not been pleasant of late.

When he walked into the wine bar he quickly spied Nahshon and Sala standing at a table in the corner. As he approached them, he evaluated their appearance, trying to see if anything about them might give them away as Israelites.

Normally, there was virtually nothing that would distinguish an Israelite from a Canaanite. Both people were dark haired and dark eyed, with the skin of men who live under a hot sun. Their languages were different, but there was enough commonality for each to be able to have some understanding of the other’s words. The great divide between the two was not race, it was religion, and that was an uncrossable chasm.

Shemu pushed his way through the crowd until he reached Nahshon and Sala. Sala spied him first and gave him a friendly smile. “Shemu. How good to see you. How is everyone in your family?”

“Everyone is well,” Shemu replied. “And you? Frankly, I’m surprised you’re still here. Surely you don’t want to be caught in the city while your own people are attacking us.”

He looked carefully to catch a reaction to this comment, but neither Nahshon nor Sala changed expression.

Nahshon said genially, “We have just been discussing that very thing, my friend. I had hoped to conclude my business before any warlike activity interrupted it, but it seems I may not be able to do that.”

“I doubt anyone is worrying about commerce right now,” Shemu said.

Nahshon sighed. “Unfortunately, that is true.”

Shemu narrowed his eyes. “I have been wondering if you might not be here for some other purpose.”

“What other purpose could you mean?” Sala’s eyes were puzzled but still friendly.

Shemu thought he had no reason to seek favor from these men, so he said bluntly, “You could be Israelite spies.”

Lord Nahshon scowled. “What kind of talk is this?”

Sala only lifted his brows and said, “Ah.”

Silence fell as the three men studied each other. Then Shemu said, “The rumors around town say that the Israelites are merciless in conquest.”