by Beth Shriver
“Take him to the pallet and have him lie down.” Andrew motioned to the other older man sitting on the floor with his leg still propped up on the stool. “And bring him to me, please.”
The young man put his arm around Tirzah’s shoulder and said a word of thanks to Andrew, who nodded. “Next time get some help when you fix the wheel on your wagon.”
He sat down with a grunt, and Tirzah helped the other man to his feet. Andrew had him lie on a small bed and sat on a stool to examine the cut on his leg. “It is not long, but the depth is causing severe bleeding.” The blood continued to flow quickly no matter how many compresses they used, but eventually slowed. Andrew nodded to Tirzah. The man’s injury required sewing. With the expected casualties they had over-stocked their equipment, medicines and bandages, but as they worked, Martha burst through the door, out of breath with a hand to her chest.
“They’re coming. We must go to the shelter.” She walked quickly up to Andrew. He kept his eyes on the man’s wound, analyzing the blood flow. The amount of blood made it hard for Tirzah to see, and they would have to wait for it to stop before mending the wound. Tirzah kept a bandage to the cut to soak up what blood she could, but still it flowed.
“Go without me. I will be there shortly.” Andrew went back to his work as Martha shook him again. “No, Andrew, you must come with us.” Martha’s face flushed as his eyes moved to hers.
“Martha, I said go.” He scowled as he checked the injury again. “Take Tirzah with you.”
Tirzah’s heart jumped. “No, Father. You need my help.”
He didn’t take his eyes off the cut. The man grunted and closed his eyes. Tirzah wiped his head and listened to his labored intake of air.
“Father, his breathing is so heavy, he might lose awareness.” She continued to wipe his brow and hold the soaked cloth on his leg.
“Good. I want to save the sleeping medicine if at all possible.” He nodded for Tirzah to go. She knew he couldn’t manage the stitching along with everything else he had to do. But her mother was tugging on her, frantically peering out each window.
“Come, Tirzah.”
Tirzah watched as the man went still. She watched his chest to see it expand and deflate. He had lost consciousness, which would make the procedure easier for her father. She took slow steps to her mother but couldn’t imagine going to a place of safety while others were dying.
“Mother, I’m coming.” She pulled her arm away from her mother’s hold and reluctantly followed her to the musty, dark hole. They stepped down the rungs of the ladder and onto the soft earth.
Martha put a hand to the dirt wall. “I’m sinking.” She made small grunts and found her way to an armless wooden chair.
“Mother, the moisture is from the rain. It will just take longer for it to dry down here.” Tirzah gave her a blanket and then stood underneath the shelter door to listen to what was happening above them.
She could hear her father’s voice and that of the young man. They heard footsteps and the opening and shutting of a door, then the sound of furniture being dragged toward the door. The voices escalated to where Tirzah could understand that there was another man that was injured, who had come for help from Andrew. “The walls have been penetrated. They are in the village, seeking Josiah. They stop at every home and search, take as they please, and move to the next…” The man’s voice trailed off.
A wail of pain came from above, and Tirzah couldn’t stand another second of being kept away from providing help to the injured. She climbed two of the rungs and pushed on the door. Martha came forward but stopped when her shoe was lost in the mud.
“Tirzah, don’t you dare go up there.” She searched in the mud for her shoe and weaved back and forth, trying to gain her footing. “Tirzah, I forbid you…”
Tirzah pushed the door harder at her mother’s words, and the door flew open. The men startled, and Andrew moved quickly to her. “Tirzah, I need your help.” He put his hand out and helped her off the ladder.
Tirzah was pleased at his request and assessed the situation. Andrew finished stitching the man’s leg and made him as comfortable as possible to let him rest. The young man with the broken arm watched out a window, holding his arm up with his other hand. His eyes darted back and forth across the dirt road where the troops would be coming.
Another man who limped slightly on his left leg moved the sideboard furniture in front of the back door. Tirzah glanced out the window, just as the young man yelled, “I can see them.” He moved his head away from the window.
Tirzah stared out the front window, watching chaos fill the streets. Black smoke filtered through the air, people ran frantically with nowhere to go, and anothers tried to hide, trapped in their own homes. Children, mothers, and fathers, whole families slaughtered mercilessly and with no hope for escape. Tirzah looked away as tears fell.
“We need to protect ourselves.” The young man jumped up from the window and searched the room for a weapon. Tirzah realized they were totally defenseless and began to help him. She gathered her bow and arrows. He found an ax and a hammer in the back room. He handed the hammer to the man with the wounded leg, and they waited, hoping no one would enter. But as the sounds of screams grew closer, Tirzah knew their time was soon.
Finally, they came. Roman soldiers approached their home as if they were simply visitors come to call. She heard the tromp of feet on the porch, and the first thud as someone threw himself against the door, then repeated banging and mumblings to one another. Bits of wood fell to the floor inside where Tirzah stood. She took three steps back and waited for another blow, then gazed out the window. They called on another soldier, and together they swiftly smashed in the door. The first stumbled in and set his footing. The other two walked in behind him, and the three of them scanned the room with swords drawn.
One set his eyes on Tirzah. Her response was to draw the arrow to her bow. He chuckled and ribbed another next to him. They both smiled at the sight of her with a lifted bow loaded with an arrow. The distraction gave Andrew and the limping man time to rush from the curtain. They swiftly threw the ax and hammer, each hitting the man closest to him. Tirzah shot off the arrow immediately after.
Andrew let out a breath as he said Tirzah’s name. She heard it ring in her ears over and over again as she gazed down at the soldier, still smiling, with an arrow stuck in his heart.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The days were long, but Enan found strength in himself he’d never known he possessed, for now that he had the life of Josiah’s son in his hands, his own health became secondary. He had no choice but to command his body to heal as he helped in the healing of Stephen with prayer. Vita cleaned Stephen’s wounds and applied herbs each day. Enan had made Vita swear not to use any drugs. After the grogginess he felt his first day, he refused them for himself as well.
How they found themselves living amongst Orthodox Jews, Enan did not understand. They had been separated since the fall of Jerusalem, each going their own way according to their beliefs. Then Enan felt there was something God was calling him to do, something he never imagined growing up in the sheltered village of Zayin. He felt he should share his faith with the people here. He tried to push the thoughts away, knowing Hadar’s family could turn him out on a mere whim, but each morning during his prayers, he felt the same conviction.
How do I reach these people? People who don’t understand that they need the Messiah? They know You, God, but they need to know Your Son. How do I make them see this?
Vita and her father carried on with their own lives even as they cared for the two men. Working in the mines kept Hadar busy digging in the early morning and into the afternoon. Vita helped with the other women to crush and grind the blue-gray mineral into small pieces and heated to be made into metal objects. Then they would come home and tend to their small farm, outside the village. It was a lot of work for just the two of them.
Vita’s mother and all but one of her siblings had died of disease, and from that ti
me forward, she had vowed to learn medicine. They were fortunate she had the knowledge to heal them.
Enan and Stephen kept their ears open for information about the battles and found only disheartening news from the men traveling to nearby towns for trade. Alef and Lamed had been sacked. They could only hope Zayin was spared, but in their hearts they feared the worst. If the enemy’s quest was to find Josiah, they would not stop at only the two villages. If he was still alive.
When both men were able, Vita and Hadar took them to the springs for mineral baths. As they approached, Enan lifted his head and stared at the beautiful waterfall surrounded by palm trees and huge rock walls. Vines clung to the sides of the rock, and green plants grew along the sides of the river. Neither of the two men could take in the beauty of this place. They all stopped and watched water as it tumbled over the top and hit a plateau in the center of the fall, then went straight along a horizontal rock of a few feet to splash down many feet to the river.
Stephen’s voice broke the enchantment. “It resembles the oasis I saw as I journeyed here.” His usually booming voice took on a quiet tone as he described his vision. “After the death of my men, I was desperate to find any of my comrades. In my search, I saw Enan ride through the battlefield injured and barely conscious. One never would have thought the injury Enan obtained would help me find my way.” His eyes never left the water as he spoke. His eyes reddened, and tears welled in them. “If not for your blood trail, my friend, I would not be viewing this splendor with you now.”
Enan nodded to him and turned back to the falls to give Stephen a moment to compose himself.
“Are you saying my injury was your good fortune?”
Stephen chuckled. “Well, yes. I suppose I am.” He kept his eyes on the flowing water. “Along my way in following you, I was about to give up and die, to be buried in the sand. Then an oasis appeared in front of me, just far enough for me to go a little farther. It was just as beautiful as this, with a fall of water and tall palms swaying in the breeze. But try as I may, I would ride and ride but never get any nearer. It was as if my mind was playing a trick on me to continue on.”
When Stephen stopped, he seemed peaceful and content. Enan appreciated this, as he felt the same. He’d never thought he could ever feel such peace unless he was in his own village with his Tirzah, but war had made him appreciate life, itself.
Stephen’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Enan, what was your oasis? What kept you going through that horrid desert?”
Enan paused as he picked up a palm leaf and twirled it in his hand, watching it spiral into a cocoon of green. “Christ the Savior, and my Tirzah.” Was all he could say; wanted to say.
He looked back to the falls and envisioned her in his mind, comparing the beauty before him with the beauty of her face, wishing he was with her at that moment. He thought of that day they’d had together, and the movement of her eyes as they caught the clouds moving through the sky. He could taste the figs and feel the grass as they lay close to one another with the breeze, and hear the sound of merchants and buyers bartering their transactions in the distance.
Hadar looked at Enan. “You believe in the one called, Jesus?”
“Yes,” Enan stated with conviction but said no more, just gazed into Hadar’s face, waiting to learn how tolerant he was of Enan’s beliefs. Hadar returned Enan’s scrutiny. He seemed to be at a loss for words, and Enan wondered what he thought.
Vita had stepped back to let the two men speak and now stepped forward again to assist Enan to the pool. Her usual gentle touch was absent as she placed his arm around her shoulders, helping him on the side of his bad leg. He sensed her forced silence and spoke to create some comfort.
“You have kept this place a secret from me,” he teased her, but it was not well received.
“And you have kept secrets, as well.” Her step quickened, causing him to exert himself to keep up.
Confused, he denied her claim. “I have kept nothing from you.”
Vita stopped short, causing him to teeter on his good leg. “You have not spoken of this Tirzah, yet she is who heals you?”
Enan sighed. The days spent with Vita had created his dependency on her. He could plainly see how she might misinterpret their relationship as more than nurse to patient. It was a difficult situation to correct, and if he was honest, he would admit he had become more attached to her than he should be. “You have healed me, Vita. But the true healer is Jesus.”
Although she didn’t look at him, he could see the corners of her mouth curve with satisfaction as they continued their walk. “You speak of this Jesus as if you know Him.”
Enan felt the excitement of opportunity and slowed his walk to meet her eyes with his. “I do know Him.”
Her bashful smile and tilt of her head made Enan wonder if it was a gesture of denial, or of discomfort due to the intensity of his stare.
Hadar followed closely behind them with Stephen, and he carefully led Enan and Stephen to a side pool of water, smoothed out in the stone by years of wear from the falls. The water was warmer in this small pool due to the natural mineral spring that came up through the earth and was believed to cure.
Enan was pleasantly surprised at the water’s temperature. Although it was warm, they were able to stay in the spring at length without becoming overheated.
He studied Stephen, who had his head back, arms outstretched, and eyes closed. “Do you feel well enough to travel, Stephen?”
At this question, Vita moved toward them to listen, letting the water flow through her fingers. Stephen lifted his head and opened his eyes. He put his arms in the water and gazed at the sky in thought. “Soon. I know you have been anxious to get back to Zayin as I have, to find word of my father.” He moved his head to the side to gather his emotions. “I’m sure he’s gone, but my heart won’t rest until I know.”
Enan nodded. “The waiting has been hard for both of us.” Enan paused with another thought. “I hope your family in Gimel is well.”
“Yes, my father made our home secure. His walls could match the height of Claudius’s. Even with my father’s absence, my family should be safe.” Stephen’s smile was much needed for the moment, as the decision to leave was heavy on their minds.
Enan responded with an added chuckle, for all knew no walls could reach the height of Claudius’s. “I will always remember this place, its beauty and hospitality.”
Enan’s brows furrowed as he watched the swirls of water come up from the bottom of the pool and bubble to the surface. “Yes, that and more.” Enan knew by his drawn brows and intense stare that he had Stephen’s attention. “These mines would enable my village to make their own metals rather than acquire them through merchants. They pass through our village from time to time and only carry a selected few that we need.”
Stephen nodded his agreement. “Yes, we could use these mines to make projectiles, shields, swords, even vessels which could be launched from Gimel.”
Enan leaned forward, his keen eyes fixed on Stephen. “With our armies in ruins, this mine is greater than gold. And the best part is that Claudius has no knowledge of them.”
Stephen lifted his hand to grasp Enan’s. The men squeezed their hands together and shook on their discovery. They smiled their excitement at the thought of how this would lift the spirits of their people. They would never be as great in number as Claudius’s men, but they would not give up the fight.
Enan noticed Vita’s interest, cleared his throat, and added, “We must speak with the people here about our plans. They would also benefit from our needs.”
Stephen nodded. “We can’t leave this village defenseless. They are untrained and unable to protect themselves if the Romans decided to bother with them. We have healed well enough to teach them some of our skills.”
Enan smiled. “There is another way they are defenseless that we must tend to—their faith.”
Stephen sat up and looked forward in thought. “Yes, that has been on my mind, as well. But th
ey have heard of Christ, and they willingly reject Him. We must tread lightly, or we will be cast out, or even stoned, if the priest becomes aware of our teaching.”
“Yes, but if we have something to offer them, to gain their respect, maybe they’ll listen.” Enan was excited and moved closer to Stephen, speaking quickly. “If we can give them work and profit for their metals and train them, we’ll be in a position to speak to them of our beliefs.”
Stephen shook his head. “You impress me with your ingenuity. I thought you just wanted to have weapons to fight, but you have a much larger battle on your mind.”
Agreeing with Stephen, Enan realized he had to wait for the right time to return home. He felt his family would be protected as he had worked with his father to provide a safe underground cover with plenty of supplies. But his longing for Tirzah would not cease. With Vita always being so close and willing, he needed to leave, but it was important to use this opportunity to tell others of his faith.
One evening, as they finished their meal, a messenger came to their home. Visitors were few at such a distance from the village. The young rider threw a leg over the horse’s neck and jumped from his back before the animal came to a stop. Dust blew up around them as Vita stepped outside to greet him.
“I need to speak to Hadar.” He spoke in short spurts, his chest moving quickly.
“I am Hadar’s daughter. Who sends you?” Hadar walked up beside Vita and stood next to her.
“Barak asks to speak to you. He said to bring your visitors.”
It was only a matter of time before word got out about their house guests. Enan was grateful to Vita and Hadar for taking on the burden of housing them. Not only could Stephen and Enan be banished from the village, but Vita and Hadar were risking themselves, as well.
