The Chronicles of the Kings Collection

by Lynn Austin

  Miriam shifted the small basket of food to her other arm as she hurried home from the market with her brothers. She had to get back before Master Joshua left. Now that his older brother had arrived, the time when they would leave drew closer and closer. She couldn’t believe that only a few days had passed since Joshua had burst through her door in the middle of the night, gasping for air. Or that only yesterday she had nursed him through his illness, bathing him with water to cool his fever.

  She had memorized his face in the firelight and secretly combed her fingers through his curly black hair while he slept. She had held his smooth hands in hers and imagined being his wife, feeling those hands caressing her face. He had been kind to her. He had called her by name.

  Miriam had never met a man like Master Joshua before, so refined and aristocratic. He certainly wasn’t like the men her mother brought home. No matter what, Miriam had to find a way to go with him when he left. Her mother had begun to teach her how to win a man’s love. The idea had always repulsed Miriam until Master Joshua had burst into her life.

  When she opened the door and saw him seated cross-legged by the hearth, she breathed a sigh of relief. His older brother still wore the sorrowful look of a lost child, but Master Joshua had never shed a tear, showing the same inner strength and courage he had shown when battling his illness. It was one of the reasons she loved him. Abba motioned for her to join them, and she sank to the floor beside Master Joshua.

  “Miriam, they’ve offered to take us with them,” Maki said. “All of us, if we’ll help them.”

  Miriam’s heart leaped. She turned to Joshua. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Help our family escape. It will be dangerous, but—”

  “No! We’re not going anywhere!” Nathan cried. “We can’t leave Mama!”

  Miriam scrambled to her feet to confront her brother. “Mama doesn’t care one bit about any of us, and you know it! You should have heard how she cursed when she found out she was pregnant with you and Mattan. And she has run off and left you alone with me ever since you were born. Why should we stay here with her? So she can have someone to beat when she’s drunk? Did you already forget how she pushed your brother into the fire for spilling his broth? Show him the burn on your leg, Mattan. Remind him what our mother is really like!”

  As Mattan shrank back into the shadows, Miriam regretted hurting him with her words. But she had to convince Nathan. She couldn’t let Master Joshua leave without her.

  “I’m leaving this place, Nathan, and so is Mattan,” she said. “If you’re smart, you’ll come with us.”

  The room was silent for a moment after her outburst, then Master Joshua stood and quietly walked over to where Nathan stood sulking by the door.

  “Nathan, I’ll need your help if my escape plan is going to work. I’ll try to pay you back, somehow, when—”

  “I don’t need any rich man’s money to survive.”

  “What do you need, then? Tell me, and if I can provide it I’ll—”

  “I don’t need anything.”

  “Except a father?”

  Joshua’s question caught the boy by surprise, and for a moment Nathan was unable to disguise his pain. Miriam knew how much he longed for someone to call Abba. She often heard him crying late at night after her father had visited her. Nathan didn’t even know who his father was. Their mother probably didn’t know, either.

  “You shut up about my father!” Nathan shouted.

  “I just lost my father,” Joshua said quietly. “He was the most important person in my life. I know how much a father means to a boy. I’ll try to be a father to you if you’ll let me.”

  “What about Mattan?” Nathan asked sullenly.

  Jerimoth rose from his place by the fire and rested his hand on Mattan’s head. “I will be Mattan’s father.”

  Tears burned in Miriam’s eyes. It could be a dream come true for all of them if only Nathan would lay aside his stubbornness and allow it to happen. She dug in her basket and pulled out the small packet she had nearly forgotten.

  “Nathan, look. This is balm for Mattan’s leg. Master Joshua gave me the money to buy it for him.”

  Joshua took it from her and knelt beside Mattan as he opened it. “This will help your leg heal faster. May I put some on you?”

  Mattan drew back in fear. “Will it hurt?”

  Jerimoth pulled up the stool and sat down. “It might hurt a little,” he said. “But I’ll hold you so you won’t be afraid.”

  Miriam saw tears in Jerimoth’s eyes as he held out his arms, waiting. Mattan hesitated. He had never known the comfort of a father’s arms as she had. He was probably afraid to trust these two men who might be gone again in a day or two like all the others.

  “Come on, Son,” Jerimoth said gently. Mattan flew into his arms, clinging to him.

  Miriam’s own father reached for her hand as she brushed the tears from her eyes. But a moment later she heard the front door slam, and she saw that Nathan was gone.

  8

  Joshua crouched in the shadows between the two stalls in the marketplace, studying each face in the milling crowd, searching for Jerimoth’s wife, Sara. She should be easy to spot. She would be carrying her baby, Rachel. And she would be flanked by the two palace guards who accompanied her to the marketplace every day. Maki had watched her movements for days. She would soon pass this way.

  Joshua squeezed his hands into fists, willing them to stop shaking. He had never been more afraid in his life. He had devised this plan. He was placing all these people’s lives at risk, as well as his own. He had tried so hard to anticipate everything that could possibly go wrong and to think of alternative courses of action, but what if he missed something? What if someone panicked?

  He wished he could pray. He longed to cry out to God for help so he wouldn’t have to face this ordeal alone. But the heavens had turned to stone for him. God hadn’t helped Dinah or his grandfather. He had closed His ears to Abba’s cries. Why would God listen to him?

  Timing. It would all depend on perfect timing. Joshua trusted Maki and Miriam. They realized their lives were at stake and would be cautious, but he still worried about Nathan. The boy had finally agreed to help, but only after making it clear that he was doing it for Miriam’s sake alone. Jerimoth, who had more experience as a father, had fared much better in winning Mattan’s trust. But little Mattan was so young, so vulnerable to fear. They were all hiding in the empty market stall behind Joshua, waiting for his signal. There was no sign of Sara.

  When Joshua realized he was holding his breath he slowly exhaled. He started to rake his fingers through his beard, then stopped when he felt the dusty ashes. He had coated his hair and beard with them in an attempt to disguise himself as an old man. He was wearing Miriam’s tattered robe. He dried his sweating palms on it.

  Were the others as frightened as he was? Joshua had already decided that if the soldiers captured any of them he would give himself up. He couldn’t allow one more innocent person to suffer because of him.

  Suddenly he spotted Sara. She walked slowly, holding little Rachel by the hand. The toddler took wobbly, uneven baby steps in her tiny sandals. Joshua recognized the palace guards walking on either side of Sara. And they would certainly recognize him. He had taken his military training with these two men, sparred with them, laughed with them. Would they help him for friendship’s sake or betray him for fear of King Manasseh? He couldn’t take any chances. No one had helped Abba.

  Joshua ducked inside the empty market stall where the others waited. “Get ready. Here she comes. And be careful, I know both of the guards.”

  Maki nodded and hurried out of the stall, walking down the street toward Sara. Would she recognize him in Jerimoth’s robe and realize what they were trying to do? Joshua felt for his weapon, Miriam’s kitchen knife, which Maki had sharpened on a whetstone. Joshua hoped he wouldn’t have to use it. Then he crept back to his lookout post in the shadows.

  “Officers! Help me! I’ve bee
n robbed!” Heads turned at the sound of Maki’s shouts, and a crowd quickly gathered. Sara and the guards stopped walking. Joshua ducked inside the booth again and signaled to Miriam and the two boys. He saw Jerimoth close his eyes, his lips moving in silent prayer as he sat and waited.

  “They took all my money!” Maki cried. “Go after them! They went that way!”

  The guards didn’t take the bait. Instead, they began to argue with Maki. Joshua was too far away to hear their words. He saw Miriam and the two boys snaking silently through the crowd toward Sara.

  Maki’s face turned red with rage. “You can’t let them get away with this! Go after them, I say, or I’ll report both of you!”

  At last one of the guards took off after the imaginary thieves, running down a side street in the opposite direction. Maki remained with the other soldier, arguing loudly to divert his attention. He slowly positioned himself between the guard and Sara. Joshua saw Miriam creep up beside Sara. They began inching away.

  “Faster . . . hurry . . .” he whispered. The crowd was starting to lose interest and drift away. Joshua left his lookout and returned to the abandoned booth just as Mattan and Nathan rushed into the hiding place. Nathan was struggling to carry baby Rachel. She squirmed to free herself, to howl in protest, but Nathan held his hand firmly over her mouth until he dropped her into her father’s lap. Jerimoth clutched her to himself.

  “Shh, it’s all right, Rachel. Shh . . . your abba is here.” Jerimoth hugged her fiercely for a moment, then he released her and began tearing off her clothes and shoes. Mattan smeared her dark, silky curls with oil while Nathan rubbed her body with a mixture of mud and ashes. Moments later, she no longer resembled a spoiled rich baby but a filthy urchin like the two boys. Jerimoth barely had time to kiss her sooty cheek before the boys darted out of the stall with her again, heading for the city gate and freedom. Seconds later, Sara tumbled in beside Jerimoth, clinging to him, weeping.

  Joshua returned to his lookout post and watched as Miriam, now wearing Sara’s blue head scarf, slowly walked down the central street of the marketplace. He saw the soldier straining to keep an eye on her, while Maki continued to shout. “What’s this city coming to when hoodlums and thieves roam in broad daylight, robbing innocent people?”

  Miriam was twenty yards away from the guard now, wandering in the milling crowd. He looked worried. He finally pushed Maki aside and elbowed his way forward to catch up with her.

  “Wait! What about my money?” Maki shouted. The soldier ignored him.

  Jerimoth tugged on Joshua’s sleeve. “Come on. We’re ready to load the cart.”

  “Just a minute.” Joshua watched as the soldier finally caught up to Miriam and whirled her around. Then panic filled the soldier’s face when he discovered that he had followed the wrong woman. He released Miriam and darted through the square, grabbing every women in a blue head scarf and peering into her face. He hadn’t suspected Miriam. He had let her go. That was all Joshua wanted to see.

  Jerimoth had already helped his wife climb into the deep pushcart they had bought with the last of Joshua’s silver. She huddled there, waiting. “Hurry, Joshua, get in!” Jerimoth whispered.

  “Wait. Not yet . . .” Miriam hurried into the booth the same moment as her father, pulling the blue scarf from her head. “Give it to me,” Joshua said. He removed a shard of broken pottery from his pocket and folded it inside the fabric.

  Jerimoth grabbed it away from him. “What is that? What are you doing?” Before Joshua could stop him, his brother unwrapped it to examine the potsherd. On the smooth side, Joshua had scratched a drawing of an ox. “Are you out of your mind?” Jerimoth cried.

  “I want Manasseh to know it was me! If he’s going to annihilate our family for no good reason, I want him to know that I won this round, not him!”

  “This isn’t a game, Joshua! The soldiers can describe Miriam and Maki. They’ll realize they were involved. Their lives are more important than playing a stupid game!”

  “Manasseh has to understand that I’m fighting back! He led Abba to his death, and no one lifted a finger to help him! I want Manasseh to know that I’ll fight him until the day I die!”

  Maki pushed between them. “Shh . . . You must lower your voices.”

  “Let him leave the scarf here if he wants to,” Miriam said. “It’s important to him. I don’t care if the soldiers remember me or not.” She took the scarf from Jerimoth and wrapped the potsherd inside it again, then laid it in the middle of the floor. “We need to go.”

  Joshua removed his outer robe and curled up inside the cart, wedging himself on all fours on top of Sara, protecting her. They piled small sacks of grain and baskets of fruit and vegetables on top of them until the cart was heaped high and the occupants were well-hidden. Then Joshua’s world turned dark as they covered the entire load with goatskins.

  “Can you breathe?” he whispered to Sara.

  “Yes. I’m all right.” He hoped he wouldn’t start to cough.

  Jerimoth grunted and the cart began to move. He would play the servant’s role once again along with Miriam, pushing the two-handled barrow; Maki would be their master. The cart rumbled toward the city gate.

  Joshua’s body soon began to ache from the cramped position. His foot was falling asleep, but he didn’t dare move it. The load on his back felt heavy, and he hoped he wouldn’t crush Sara. He guessed by the way the cart kept screeching to a stop, then lurching forward again, that the streets were crowded.

  At last he heard soldiers shouting orders. The cart rumbled to a stop. They must be at the gate. Maki had scouted all of the gates and reported that the soldiers were stopping everyone who left the city and inspecting every load. Joshua’s plan would succeed or fail right here.

  “What’s in the barrow?” he heard someone ask.

  “Market goods,” Maki answered. “But why the traffic jam? What’s the problem?”

  “We need to inspect your load.”

  “You’ve never seen produce and grain before? Or is it the quality of my goods you’re concerned with?”

  “We have to make sure you’re not smuggling anyone out of the city.”

  “Smuggling someone! You’re joking, right?”

  “Haven’t you heard about the plot against King Manasseh?”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “The king already executed two of the conspirators. We’re looking for the rest of them.”

  “You’re not going to make me empty my entire cart! I have a long journey home. I’ll never make it there by sunset at this rate. And tomorrow’s the Sabbath.”

  “The other choice is to let me run my spear through your load.”

  “But what if you rip a bag of grain? I’ll be spilling my supplies all the way home!”

  “It’s up to you, sir.”

  Joshua’s heart tried to pound out of his chest. He could feel Sara shaking beneath him.

  “I have a third alternative,” Maki said quietly. “I’ll give you a half-shekel of silver to lift the cover and take a quick look so I can be on my way.”

  “I can’t do that, sir.”

  “A full shekel, then. Have mercy on my servant here. The sun is already getting hot, and he has to push this load over the Beth-Horon Pass.” The soldier didn’t reply.

  That shekel was the last of Jerimoth’s money. Now they were broke. Joshua tried taking slow, even breaths so he wouldn’t cough. Then sunlight streamed through the cracks above him as someone removed the goatskins.

  “The others might be watching,” the guard mumbled. “I have to pretend to spear your load.”

  “My grain is on the bottom. Be careful.”

  Suddenly the tip of a razor-sharp spear sliced into Joshua’s left shoulder. He clenched his teeth to keep from crying out.

  “All right. Move along,” the guard said.

  The cart quickly rumbled forward again. They were moving downhill. Then the jostling motion changed as they left the cobblestone pavement of the city ramp and move
d onto the dirt road leading away from the city.

  They had made it. They were safe.

  Gradually, the first numbness of shock wore off and excruciating pain began to radiate down Joshua’s shoulder and arm from the spear wound. The back of his tunic grew warm and sticky. He was losing a lot of blood.

  “Are you all right?” he whispered to Sara.

  “Yes. Are you?”

  “I’m fine.” But he wasn’t. Each jolt of the groaning cart sent shivers of pain through him. Please hurry, he silently pleaded. Instead, the cart drew to a stop again. He heard the muffled sound of a baby crying, then Nathan’s voice.

  “Can you spare a crust of bread? My sister hasn’t eaten all day.” Joshua knew the road must be crowded with travelers since the boys were continuing their charade.

  “Can you handle a cart, boy?” Maki asked. “I’ll give all three of you something to eat if you help my servant push this down the mountain and over the next pass.”

  The cart began to move again, lurching, jostling downhill, pitching Joshua forward against the front of the cart until the pain in his shoulder was agonizing. He closed his eyes, hoping the whirling dizziness in his head would stop. The baby’s screams added to the tension. They should be almost to the hiding place Maki had found. He said it wasn’t far. Hurry!

  The road surface changed again. Now they were crossing rugged, uneven terrain. The jerking motion sent stabs of pain down Joshua’s left arm and his back until he could no longer stifle his moans. Suddenly the cart bumped to an abrupt stop. The load on top of him grew lighter as Maki and Jerimoth lifted the cargo out. Then they reached in for him.

  “Joshua! You’re bleeding!” Jerimoth cried. “Sara . . . ?”

  “I’m all right. But my baby . . . my poor baby. Give her to me.”

  With Maki’s help, Joshua stumbled out of the cart and sank down on the grass. He was only dimly aware of Jerimoth’s family huddled together, weeping for joy. The burning pain in his shoulder overshadowed everything else.

  “Open your tunic. Let me see the wound,” Miriam said. She knelt beside him, holding a skin of wine from the cart. He tried to do what she said, but it hurt too much to move his arm. She gently peeled his bloody tunic off his shoulder. Joshua gasped as she poured some of the wine into the wound. “Here. Drink some.” She pressed the wineskin into his hand and watched as he took a few swallows. “I have to stop the bleeding,” she told him. “It’s going to hurt.”