My Enemy, My Love (Truly Yours Digital Editions)

by Darlene Mindrup

  Barak smiled across at his mother, so caught up in the Exodus story. It was good to have her here with them. Uncle Simon had arranged for her to come, along with Miriam and her father—his way of showing Barak that they were all family, no doubt.

  Both Uncle Simon and Miriam’s father were wealthy men, and both thought a marriage between Barak and Miriam an excellent idea. That Miriam was agreeable to the idea only added to their anticipation. That Barak was not, they refused to consider.

  The only thing that had kept his uncle from making the marriage contract had been Mother. She remembered the great love of her life, even though he had been dead some years now. To be in the same room with them was to feel the air alive with the fire of their love. Barak wanted that for himself, and his feelings for Miriam were nowhere close to being that intense. Mother understood and pleaded with Uncle Simon not to contract the marriage.

  He had bowed to her wishes, but as Barak grew older and there was no sign of a desire to marry and have children, Uncle Simon’s patience was growing thin. He felt it imperative that Barak have a son to pass on his name.

  When Miriam was in a particularly flirtatious mood, Barak found his mind wandering into forbidden paths and he considered what marriage to her would be like. Even now, her eyes were sending clear messages to him. Although he had never touched the girl, it was not for lack of opportunity.

  For a moment, a pair of hazel eyes filled his mind with their vision. Barak sat up straighter, pushing the thought aside. To think of a Samaritan on this most holy of days was tantamount to sacrilege.

  The meal finally came to a close and Barak rose to his feet, intent on helping his mother to her tent. It would be seven more days before the celebration of Passover would end and they would return home. He hoped his mother could withstand such a lengthy stay.

  Lifting his mother gently into his arms, he paused by the open door of the tent.

  “We will see you in the morning,” he told the room at large.

  Miriam came quickly to her feet. “I will help you.”

  Without sounding ungracious, he had no way to refuse. Nodding his head, he turned and left the tent, Miriam close on his heels.

  Barak left Miriam inside with his mother. Knowing it would take some time to prepare for the night, he quickly made his way from the tent and through the olive trees. He headed for a spot he had noticed earlier.

  A large rock sat in the middle of a circle of the ancient trees. Barak sat down upon it, his eyes raised heavenward. A soft peace stole into his heart, and he relaxed for the first time in days.

  The majesty of the gnarled old trees dwindled beneath the splendor of a million shimmering lights peering at him from above. He felt a longing to know better the One who had created such a beautiful universe.

  In olden times, Jehovah had spoken directly to the heads of the households. Barak wondered for the hundredth time what it would have been like to hear the voice of God.

  The Torah spoke of God walking in the garden with Adam and Eve. How was it possible to walk among the living God and still remain alive? Even Moses had hidden his face from the awesome majesty of that great being.

  Why did God not speak to them now? The stars twinkled reassuringly back at him from the dark night sky. Incredible to think that each one had been given a name by Jehovah himself.

  Rustling in the brush alerted him to someone’s presence, and it wouldn’t take him more than one guess to figure out whose.

  Miriam crossed the glade and sat down beside him. Instantly, Barak felt the peace of the preceding moment flee.

  When she spoke, her voice was sultry. Evocative.

  “I have been searching for you. Father is busy discussing something with Uncle Simon.”

  Barak tensed. “What are they discussing?”

  She shrugged, her tinkle of laughter grating on Barak’s nerves.

  “Not our marriage, if that is what concerns you.”

  Glancing her way, Barak caught the shimmer of her liquid brown eyes. She leaned closer, and Barak could smell the scent of myrrh as it drifted to him on the slight breeze. His heart began to pound and his palms grew clammy, not from desire, but from fear.

  It amazed him that Miriam could reduce him to such a state, but he knew that she held his future in the palms of her small hands. And she knew it, too. It was there in her eyes.

  The blood of his warring ancestors flowed freely through his veins and he reined in his suffocating panic. He would not give in to such anxiety.

  “Had you not better return to the others?” he asked her quietly.

  She leaned closer until the breath from her mouth fanned gently across his cheeks. “It is not my desire to do so.”

  Barak’s eyes grew hard. For a Jewish girl to be so wanton was beyond the bounds of propriety. Still, Miriam was an only child and spoiled in the bargain. Her father should really put a rein on her.

  Inexplicably, he thought of the Samaritan girl. He had thought her spoiled also, but she was nothing like Miriam. Whereas Miriam’s eyes shone with passion, Anna’s eyes had reflected only her innocence.

  Barak was unsure just what would have happened had not Adonijah chosen that moment to come looking for him. His friend’s look went from one to the other.

  “Your uncle Simon wishes to see you.”

  Relieved, Barak rose quickly to his feet. “I am coming.”

  Miriam was not pleased with the interruption. She threw Adonijah a beguiling smile and patted the rock next to her. “Come and keep me company, Adonijah, until Barak returns.”

  Sensing trouble, Adonijah smiled diffidently. “I cannot. Barak’s uncle wishes my presence as well.”

  Throwing them both a pout, Miriam got to her feet and followed them reluctantly from the trees. Uncle Simon was waiting at the opening to his tent.

  “Both of you, come inside.” He smiled at Miriam, and she returned the favor. Even Miriam would not dare to enter where she knew she was not bidden. She waved lightly, going to the tent shared by the women.

  Barak and Adonijah made themselves comfortable on the rugs scattered on the ground. Lifting inquiring eyes to his uncle, Barak waited for him to make his wishes known.

  Uncle Simon’s look passed from one young man to the other. What he saw pleased him much. Both were fine to look at, strong of body from their work in the fields, handsome by the Lord’s design. Miriam was not the only one interested in his nephew, nor for that matter, young Adonijah. He would have no trouble making them both a fine match.

  A frown puckered the old man’s forehead. Barak was being most difficult about this matter with Miriam. Why he was balking at the marriage Simon couldn’t understand. The girl was a sultry beauty and would be a pleasure to spend the long nights with. If she were a bit older, and he were a bit younger, he would seek a match for himself.

  But that was not what he had brought the young men here to hear. Clearing his throat, he sat down across from them.

  “I know that you two were looking forward to spending some time in the city, but something has come up that demands my attention. Mine and Ahaz’s.”

  Barak lifted a brow at mention of Miriam’s father. For some reason, he felt his insides grow cold.

  “What I am saying is that I need one of you to stay with Tamar.”

  Relieved, Barak leaned back against the throw pillows. “I will stay with Mother. That is no problem. Adonijah has been longing to spend some time in the city, and I would be glad for him to go. He can purchase the things we need for the return trip.”

  “Good.” Simon sighed with relief. “Then that is taken care of. Miriam will be staying with you, of course.”

  Adonijah could sense that Barak was loath to agree to such a thing. His eyes twinkled with mischief. “Perhaps it would be best for you to go, Barak,” he told them in what he hoped was a suitably regretful voice. “I am not certain that I would get what we need. You have a better working knowledge of the fields than I.”

  Barak threw his friend a grateful lo
ok. “Perhaps you are right.”

  Simon regarded them suspiciously, but refrained from comment. “Whichever. Ahaz and I will be leaving early to try and avoid the crowd.”

  “Where will you go, Uncle?”

  Without looking at them, Simon opened the tent flap. “We have to make arrangements for tomorrow’s fire sacrifice and we wish to speak with the Temple priests about a contract.” He left them gaping at his retreating back.

  Three

  Barak wandered among the streets of Jerusalem, careful to stay within the mile boundary prescribed by Jewish law for Passover. Although the streets were still bustling with activity, they were much less dense than the day before. Most of the Jewish community would be staying within their own homes or visiting with one another since it was forbidden to do any work during this time.

  Still, there was much to see among the rousing babble of pagan voices. This holy time held no special significance for other than Jew.

  Briefly, Barak wondered about the Samaritan woman. For her to be here in Jerusalem was odd, for the Samaritans held Mt. Gerazim as their sacred place of worship instead of the City of David. Surely she should be at Shechem to celebrate Passover.

  Barak had no place in mind to go, but he found himself outside the Temple walls gazing up at the magnificent structure that Herod had built. Uncle Simon and Ahaz were somewhere among the throng of people going to and fro, and Barak had a pretty good idea of why they were there.

  They had left the encampment shortly after first light, and Barak had followed soon after, not sure exactly what he was going to do with himself, but equally sure he couldn’t remain in camp with Miriam.

  He had looked forward to this trip to Jerusalem, anxious and excited to show his friend something of the great city. He felt a slight pang of remorse realizing that it should have been him, Barak, attending to his own mother and not Adonijah.

  Still, Adonijah seemed to understand. Barak felt the noose of marriage tightening about his neck inch by inch. He frowned heavily. Marriage to Miriam was not something he would desire, but he knew he would obey Uncle Simon’s dictates.

  But would he ever feel the great love his parents had known? Somehow he doubted it. More likely he would wonder if his wife were being faithful to him.

  He stopped to watch an Arab merchant with a little monkey on his shoulder. The little creature was drawing quite a crowd with its antics. One tiny, hairy paw snaked out, quickly grabbing a turban off of a man who had gotten a little too close.

  The man howled in anger, but the crowd’s laughter encouraged the little monkey to place the turban on his own head. Leaping off his master’s shoulder, the creature began to run around the merchant’s table.

  The chase was on, and there was instant pandemonium. Barak found himself forgetting his own troubles as he was caught up in the laughter around him and the antics of the little monkey.

  The monkey’s master chased his pet, the turbanless man close behind. When the monkey disappeared down an alley, Barak decided maybe it was time to help. He paused but a moment, trying to decide if this would constitute work or not. Shrugging his shoulders, he offered his apologies to Jehovah in advance if he was, indeed, breaking Passover law.

  The crowd that had formed huddled around the mouth of the alley, but no one except Barak offered any assistance. After climbing to the top of a canvas awning, the diminutive monkey gazed down at them with its beady little eyes, the turban perched on his head giving him a comical appearance. It took the Arab merchant but a moment to coax the beast down, all the while offering apologies to the man beside him, who jammed his turban back onto his head and strode away.

  Chuckling, Barak was about to turn back to the market street when he noticed a familiar figure enter the alley from the opposite direction. So intent was the man on his destination, he failed to notice Barak standing only twenty feet away.

  There was something so furtive, so ominous, about the way the Arab moved that Barak slowly drifted toward where the man had disappeared. Barak knew he had no reason to snoop on Amman’s business, but something drove him forward until he was outside the door to an apartment that opened onto the alley.

  He could hear voices from within, but they were muted by the closed door. Noticing a window just a short piece from the door, Barak moved closer and was finally able to distinguish what was being said.

  “The time has come.”

  Barak recognized the lazy drawl of Amman’s voice.

  “You want us to abduct the girl?”

  The second voice was unknown to Barak. He tried to see into the room, but at this angle it was impossible.

  “That is correct. Her father and I will be leaving momentarily, which will keep any suspicion from me. We shall be returning to Sychar. You can reach me there.”

  “Where would you have us take the girl?”

  There was silence for several seconds. “I will leave that to you. I’m sure, Kasim, you will know just what to do.”

  Barak felt himself go cold. Were these brigands talking about the Samaritan girl, Anna?

  There was a sneer in Kasim’s voice. “I take it the girl was unwilling.”

  When he answered, Amman’s voice was laced with anger. “She has convinced her father to wait until next Passover before making the contract for our marriage.”

  “But that is only a year, Amman. If you are assured of the marriage and Tirinus’s fortune, why abduct the girl?”

  Barak could hear the reluctance in Kasim’s voice.

  “I need the money now! Now listen to me. I will be with Tirinus when you send word of the ransom. Tirinus would pay any amount for that foolish girl, but ask only for the amount I have told you. Remember, I will be with Tirinus when he receives the note.”

  There was a threat in the words that was hard to miss.

  Barak could hear someone moving toward the door. He slipped hastily back to the street, barely rounding the corner before the door opened and Amman moved out. “Don’t fail me, Kasim,” Amman ordered menacingly.

  Barak watched him disappear around the other end of the alley. A moment later two other men exited the building. They came Barak’s way. As they rounded the corner, Barak leaned nonchalantly against the building and watched them as they passed him.

  The smaller of the two men turned to his companion. “Kasim, what will we do? I don’t like this. I don’t like it at all.” There was no denying that Kasim’s partner was hesitant about the act they were about to commit.

  “Listen to me,” Kasim hissed. “You know that Amman is a powerful man. He has eyes and ears all throughout Jerusalem. Be assured, Uzzah, if we fail him, they will find us in some alley somewhere with a knife in our backs.”

  Uzzah’s face paled considerably. Although they kept their voices low, Barak had no trouble hearing their whispered comments. He continued to watch them, their heads close together as they wandered down the street.

  Now what to do. He couldn’t go and warn the girl’s father because no doubt Amman would be with him. Perhaps he could go to the girl herself, but it was possible that Amman would still be at Tirinus’s house. And if what Kasim had said was true, it was quite possible that if he asked for help he would find himself instead in the enemy’s camp.

  Aggravated with himself, he took a moment to question as to his reasons for interfering in the first place. They were Samaritans, for goodness sake. They deserved whatever they received for having profaned the name of the great Jehovah!

  Despite his reasoning, Barak found himself following Kasim and his cohort. If he could keep an eye on the two, perhaps he could keep tragedy from striking. Although he had no sure plan, he was confident that he could find a way to warn the girl. But that was all he would do. Let her father take care of his own.

  He drifted along in the wake of the two, carefully avoiding their searching glances as they looked around them. When they stopped just outside the walls to the Upper City, Barak stopped also, moving to a position where he could keep an eye on them.
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  Kasim pulled a torn tunic from inside his other tunic and dropped it over his head. Bending to the street, he lifted a handful of dirt and began rubbing it on his face and arms.

  His partner also pulled some rags from his tunic and wrapped them around his leg until it looked as if he were a cripple.

  Kasim handed his partner a plate and both men settled themselves near the wall. It looked for all the world as though they were two beggars, one blind and one lame, merely begging alms on the street.

  Before long, Tirinus and Amman came down the street. The older man paused beside the two beggars and gave them each a coin. Reluctantly, Amman followed suit. The look on the faces of the two brigands was amusing as Tirinus and Amman walked away. If they had any conscience whatsoever, they would feel guilty right about now; but it would seem if they did have one, it was buried deep inside them, because they pocketed the coins and continued their stance.

  How long he stood there, Barak didn’t know, but the sun was high in the sky and his stomach began to rumble with hunger. Perspiration clung to his skin, and even in the shade it was extremely hot.

  He was just beginning to wonder why he was bothering when he noticed a woman moving toward them. The glint of the sun off her necklace spoke of her identity long before Barak could make out the features of her face. Her tread was graceful and sure, and as she came closer, Barak could see the slight smile tilting her lips.

  The two across the street were watching her intently as she came nearer. They shifted their positions ever so slightly.

  Launching himself off the tree where he leaned, Barak moved to intercept the young woman. As he drew closer, Anna glanced up, her eyes going wide in surprise.

  Before she had a chance to speak, Barak took her by the arm. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the other two had risen to their feet.