Keepers of the Covenant

by Lynn Austin

  “The fall feasts . . .” Joshua repeated. “I don’t think we have enough robes for dozens of new priests and Levites to serve alongside us on Yom Kippur. And of course they’ll want to participate. That’s why they’re coming.”

  “You’re right,” Johanan said. “We’ll need to hire more weavers to make cloth for their robes and sashes and other garments. If we start right away, the garments might be done in time. Aunt Hodaya could have helped us but—”

  “Amina is a skilled weaver, too, you know,” Jacob said.

  Amina felt her cheeks grow warm again as everyone turned to her.

  “Would you consider staying here and working with our weavers?” Joshua asked her.

  “You mean, move here? To Jerusalem?”

  “Yes. You’re welcome to live here with us.”

  “But . . . you know I’m not Jewish, don’t you?”

  “Neither was Aunt Hodaya, by birth. My father prophesied that one day the Lord would be king over the whole earth, over all people. And he said people from all nations would one day come to Jerusalem to celebrate and worship the Almighty One. You’re the beginning of that fulfillment, Amina. . . . So will you help us?”

  Amina thought her heart would burst from joy. “Of course! If you really think I can do it.”

  “The others can teach you. The cloth is a special crosshatch weave described by God in the Torah. The robes are woven in one piece without any seams except for where the sleeves are attached. And the colors are made with special dyes. ”

  “I’ve always admired the priests’ beautiful garments,” Amina said, “especially the high priest’s robe with red, blue, and purple colors. It’s so striking.” She tried to hold back the tears brimming in her eyes.

  “God commanded us to create garments that were dignified and beautiful—as precious as the garments of royalty,” Joshua said.

  “Did we say something wrong, Amina?” Johanan asked. “You’re crying.”

  She shook her head as she wiped her eyes. “I-I’m just so happy!” she managed to say. She never imagined she would be able to give something back to the God who loved her and had saved her. While growing up she’d been pushed out of sight and told she was worthless. Now she couldn’t contain her joy and wonder at being accepted and valued. Needed. Loved.

  When the holiday ended, Amina returned to Bethlehem to collect her things, including Hodaya’s big loom and clay weights. Jacob helped her move everything back to Jerusalem, and it didn’t take Amina long to settle into the priests’ beautiful home on the ridge. The next few weeks were busy ones as she adjusted to her new life and learned how to make the special crosshatch weave for the white linen garments. She set up her loom in the House of the Weavers near the fuller’s field. There the flax would be spun into six-ply threads, bleached or colored using special dyes, then woven into garments. She had so much to learn. Ordinary priests wore three separate garments—a turban, breeches, and an ankle-length outer robe all made from linen. The high priest’s sash was woven from a mixture of threads: twisted linen, gold wire hammered extra thin, and wool dyed sky-blue, purple, and crimson.

  “How do they make these beautiful colors?” Amina asked as she examined the wool.

  “The blue and purple dyes come from a special sea snail found in the Great Sea,” the chief dyer told her. “They’re very costly, which is why these colors are used only for royalty or priests in the Almighty One’s temple. The crimson dye comes from a certain kind of worm, and it’s very costly, as well.”

  Amina began weaving a priest’s robe, constructed in one piece without seams. Another weaver would add a binding of woven work around the neck, but the lower hem would be woven-in, not sewn. “How will I know how long to make each robe if I’m weaving in the hem?” she asked.

  “You won’t know until the new priests arrive and we find out how tall each man is. Then the garments can be completed and sent to the chamber of the wardrobe in the temple.”

  Amina loved her work. But as her days moved into a happy routine, she often gazed across the valley toward Sayfah’s village, wishing she could see her sister again. She had promised she would return, but so far it hadn’t been possible.

  “Would you please help me arrange a visit with my sister?” she asked Joshua one evening. “I’m worried she might forget everything she learned from Hodaya about the Almighty One. More than anything else, I want her to worship our God, too.”

  “Of course, Amina. I can have one of our servants escort you. You can take my donkey.”

  “Your servant will have to wait for me outside Sayfah’s village. But I promise not to visit for too long.”

  “That won’t be a problem.”

  Sayfah seemed overjoyed to see Amina again. They spent time catching up with each other, but the visit passed much too quickly. Sayfah never stopped working the entire time, so Amina worked alongside her, helping Sayfah and her mother-in-law with the chores. “I wish you could stay longer,” Sayfah said when it was time for Amina to leave. “Why don’t you come back for the festival at the end of summer and stay with me for a few days?”

  “What kind of festival is it?” Amina pictured the wonderful Jewish rituals and feasts so rich with meaning.

  “It celebrates the final harvest—like the festival our village used to hold every year for the olive harvest, remember?”

  “That was years ago. I really don’t remember much about it. What do people do at your festival?”

  “What difference does it make? I’m inviting you to be my guest. Since when are you so picky, questioning every little thing?”

  “Well . . . it’s just that . . .” Amina didn’t know how to begin explaining about foods that were acceptable and foods that were forbidden, how they had to be prepared properly and served on certain plates, and how the meat couldn’t be sacrificed to idols. For all of these reasons, Jews were forbidden to eat with Gentiles like the Edomites.

  “Please say yes, Amina. It will give us more time to spend together. The women prepare everything ahead of time so we can relax and visit without worrying about cooking on the day of the feast.”

  “Like Hodaya used to do before the Sabbath?”

  “I guess so.” Sayfah smiled slightly and added, “Maybe you’ll have a chance to meet some young men from our village. You need a husband, Amina. You’re already ‘old’ at twenty-three. You don’t want to live all alone or marry a Jew, do you?”

  “I haven’t met anyone I want to marry, Jewish or not. And I probably will live alone. Not very many men want a crippled wife.”

  Sayfah didn’t seem to hear her. “I can introduce you to my husband’s cousins. In fact, I know several men from our village you should meet.”

  Amina didn’t know how to reply. An Edomite husband would never allow her to worship the Jews’ God or go up to His temple.

  “Please come, Amina. It’ll be fun. There’ll be food and music and dancing. . . .”

  “I don’t think I’ll be doing any dancing,” Amina said, gesturing to her leg. Sayfah gave her an exasperated look. “I came here to visit you, Sayfah, and talk with you and catch up on your life,” Amina said, taking her sister’s hands. “I wouldn’t be comfortable at a big social event like that festival. Please don’t be mad, but I know I’d have a terrible time.”

  But Sayfah was mad, Amina could tell. She yanked her hands free. “Sometimes you don’t even seem like my sister anymore.”

  “That’s because we’ve taken different paths. Edomites and Jews are very, very different, and we live in two completely different worlds. I’m not . . .” She paused, searching for the right words. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but sometimes I don’t feel like an Edomite anymore.”

  “Don’t say that! You can’t join our enemies, Amina. It’s bad enough you live with them. What if there was another war between us? Then what would you do?”

  “I don’t know . . . I mean . . . I don’t think of you and the people in your village as enemies. But it isn’t as simpl
e as you make it sound. Mama and Abba were ashamed of me, and then Uncle Abdel rejected me, too. Why would I live with people who didn’t want me? The Jews accept me the way I am. They make me feel . . . worthwhile.” She had planned to tell Sayfah about her work weaving robes for the priests, but she changed her mind. Sayfah would never understand.

  “If you don’t want to be part of our people,” Sayfah said, “then don’t bother coming to see me anymore.” She turned away, angry. Amina couldn’t leave this way. She had to patch things up. She limped after her sister, catching her arm.

  “Wait. I don’t want hard feelings between us. We’re sisters. If this festival is important to you, then I’ll gladly come.” The prospect of mingling with Edomite men still terrified her, but Amina would be safe from their advances since none of them would want a crippled wife.

  Sayfah turned to her again, smiling at her words. “Good. And plan to stay overnight with us. The festival will end very late. Tell whoever brings you here that someone will walk with you back to Jerusalem in the morning.”

  Amina forced a smile. She didn’t want to attend Sayfah’s festival, but she didn’t want to offend her sister, either. Hodaya had asked Amina on her deathbed to make things right. “All right, Sayfah,” she said. “Tell me the day and month, and I’ll come.”

  Chapter

  41

  NEAR THE AHAVA CANAL

  Reuben finally saw the caravan’s stash of gold and silver. Not just pounds of it, but tons of it—more than he ever could have imagined. Rebbe Ezra showed him the special tent where it was kept under guard. The treasure would fill the saddlebags of more than thirty camels once the caravan began to move. Reuben’s friends would be overjoyed. He and his gang would never have to steal again.

  They had arranged a signal—the call of a mourning dove—so they could meet at the outskirts of the camp after the fires went out each night and the people had settled down in their tents to sleep. Reuben would walk to the northeastern edge of the encampment and wait in the dark for the signal. Accustomed to moving silently at night, he was able to slip through the slumbering camp without being seen or heard. He waited for the signal, then followed it through the dark, rough terrain to where Digger waited. His friend grinned when he saw Reuben, motioning for him to follow him a short distance to where the others sat near the canal beneath a clump of palm trees. They slept beneath the stars, not daring to light a fire or pitch a tent and draw attention to themselves. Bear stood and greeted Reuben heartily. “You made it! Hey, look at you! You look just like a Jew now, with your little hat and fancy robe.”

  Reuben snatched the kippah from his head, embarrassed. Bear gave the tassels a playful tug. Rebbe Ezra’s wife had sewn them for him. Reuben’s father had worn blue fringes just like these on his robes as reminders of God’s law. “I had to dress this way,” he told Bear. “They nearly sent me home unless I agreed to obey all their picky little rules.” He still couldn’t get over how Rebbe Ezra had changed his mind about letting him come. The leader of the entire caravan—the head over all of the men, including Uncle Hashabiah—had returned to Reuben and apologized. Reuben had never met anyone like the rebbe, so intense, so religious, yet willing to admit he was wrong, willing to trust Reuben and give him another chance. It took a big man to do that. It was something Reuben’s father would have done.

  “I’ve come up with a plan,” Reuben said. “Right now, everything in camp is closely guarded, and I haven’t been assigned my shift as a guard yet. I suggest you follow the caravan for a day and wait until we camp the first night. Everyone will be exhausted, and the camp will be set up more haphazardly.”

  “That’s crazy,” Nib said. “A day’s journey will put us in the middle of nowhere. How—”

  “No, Reuben’s right,” Bear interrupted. “The middle of nowhere is perfect. They won’t be able to track us in the dark or even know which way we went until dawn.”

  “I’ll make sure I’m on guard duty,” Reuben continued. “I’ll watch to see where they stash the gold after they unload the camels. I’ll wait for your signal at dusk and meet up with you just like tonight to draw you a map of the camp. Wait until after midnight for the robbery. Don’t make a scene or attack any guards. I’ll help you sneak into the tent so you can grab as much gold as you can carry and get out again—fast!—before anyone notices. Got it? We’ll need to put some distance between us and the caravan before morning.”

  “It’s a good plan, Reuben,” Nib said, “but why take just one armload of gold? Why not make several trips and load up a string of camels and packhorses?”

  The idea made Reuben’s stomach turn with dread. “Don’t get greedy, Nib. The longer the robbery takes, the greater the risk of getting caught. Two or three sacks of gold apiece should be plenty.” Digger and Nib seemed about to argue further, but Bear held up his hand to cut them off.

  “Reuben’s plan is a good one. We’ll follow the caravan and meet you at the edge of the camp at dusk so you can tell us where the gold is. Just make sure you’re assigned to guard duty, Reuben.”

  “I will. The caravan will probably break camp early tomorrow morning,” he told his friends before parting. But it didn’t. The following day, the people and pack animals and tents all remained at the campsite near the Ahava Canal.

  “Why aren’t we traveling?” Reuben asked Rebbe Ezra shortly after dawn. “What are we waiting for?” The rebbe had invited him to travel and camp with his family, and Reuben hadn’t wanted to raise suspicion by refusing. He brought his bedroll and meager collection of belongings to the leader’s site and slept there.

  “I proclaimed a fast today,” Rebbe Ezra replied, “so we could all humble ourselves before God and ask Him for a safe journey for us and our children and our possessions.” The campfire that Ezra’s extended family shared hadn’t been lit. His wife and the other women weren’t preparing breakfast. Even the smallest children weren’t eating.

  “Some of our scouts have found evidence that we’re being watched and followed,” the rebbe’s brother Asher added. “They’ve shadowed us ever since you and the other Levites from Casiphia joined us. We need to ask the Almighty One for help.”

  One of Ezra’s twin sons turned to his father. “Why would our enemies follow us, Abba? What do they want?” The boys, who were about the same age that Reuben had been when his father died, looked identical.

  “They’re after the Almighty One’s gold, I imagine,” Ezra replied. “But it’s more than that. We’re on a divine mission, and the enemy wants to prevent us from teaching the Torah and worshiping God.” The men brought out their phylacteries, preparing to pray, and Reuben watched Ezra wind the leather strap around his arm as he spoke. “I was ashamed to ask the Persian king for soldiers to protect us because I had assured him the gracious hand of our God is on everyone who looks to Him. And His great anger is against all who forsake Him.”

  “I guess our enemies forgot what God did fifteen years ago to those who tried to harm us,” Asher said. “We fasted and prayed for protection back then, too, and God heard us.”

  Reuben didn’t want to think about the fact that he was on their enemies’ side this time. “What good does fasting do?” he asked to hide his unease.

  “It reminds us how dependent we are on the Holy One,” Ezra replied. “Each time we feel hungry, we remember to trust Him for all our provisions, including our safety. Would you like to join us in prayer, Reuben? Have you ever put on phylacteries?”

  “Yeah, when I turned twelve.”

  “Do you remember how to do it?”

  Reuben nodded. He also remembered watching his father do it every morning and longing to be like him. He’d been thrilled on his twelfth birthday when he was finally old enough to wear them. And Reuben also remembered the proud look on Abba’s face as he’d helped him wind the leather strap around his arm for the first time. Poignant memories of Abba seemed to sprout everywhere in this camp. Reuben couldn’t wait to steal the gold and leave—and drown those memories in a bot
tle of wine.

  “Then you must know we begin with our statement of faith,” Ezra continued. “‘Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is One—’”

  “Yes, Abba taught me. But I’d like to pray by myself today, if that’s all right with you.”

  “Whatever you’d like, Reuben.”

  He hurried away so he wouldn’t have to hear these men asking God for protection—from him and his friends. His gang didn’t intend to hurt anyone, Reuben assured himself. And a few bags of gold apiece would scarcely be missed. From his vantage point on top of a small rise, he watched Ezra praying with his sons—and remembered praying with his own father. Could Abba see him from wherever he was? Did he know what Reuben was planning to do? Reuben’s heart felt as empty as his stomach, and he didn’t know why.

  Throughout the camp, everything halted as thousands of people gathered in small groups to pray. To Reuben, who only pretended to pray, the day seemed endlessly long. He wanted to get this robbery over with, but he would have to endure another long day of traveling and waiting and worrying tomorrow before finally making his escape. He had nothing to do to occupy his time, so he wandered restlessly around the encampment, his empty stomach rumbling. What would he do with his share of the gold? And with the rest of his life?

  When he returned to Ezra’s campsite late that afternoon, the rebbe was beaming. “The Almighty One has answered our prayers,” he told Reuben.

  “How do you know that? We haven’t traveled anywhere yet.”

  “True. But I’m convinced—in here,” he said, thumping his fist on his chest, “that God already answered our prayer. All the people and goods in this caravan will arrive safely in Jerusalem. Now come with me, Reuben. I’ve asked the Levites to gather and weigh the silver and gold before we entrust it to their keeping.”

  The task took several hours. Reuben and the others crowded inside the tent or around the open doorway to watch as each bag of gold and silver was weighed on a set of scales. The totals amazed him: 650 talents of silver; 100 talents of gold; silver articles weighing 100 talents; 20 golden bowls worth at least 1,000 darics. Reuben had thought if he and his gang stole a few bags apiece they would never be missed. But the gold was being carefully accounted for—which meant that once he disappeared, they would know exactly how much was missing and that he had stolen it. Even if he and his friends managed to escape without being caught, he would be a wanted man for the rest of his life.