The rumble continued until every last brick collapsed, except for the part attached to Rahab’s home. Battle cries drowned out all other sounds as the men charged the city.
Rahab stood in the center of her sitting room, surrounded by her family. Cala’s baby had not stopped crying since the first trumpet blast, but when the roaring sound of crumbling bricks came, he buried his head into Cala’s chest and barely whimpered.
“They have broken the walls,” Tzadok said, peering through the window to the courtyard where Tendaji stood, still barring the gate. “We should go out there and fight them.”
“You can’t!” Cala’s voice was low, like a growling she-bear. “I will not lose you.”
Her husband glanced at her. “What makes you think we will die? What makes you think we will not kill them?”
Rahab’s brothers joined the argument, suddenly acting like a pack of wolves pacing her sitting room.
“Tzadok is right. We would be fools to just sit here and die.” Azad nearly kicked the cat in his pacing.
Rahab scooped the cat into her arms and moved to the doorway to block their way, but they pushed her aside with ease. She turned, the words forming on her tongue to beg them to stay, but stopped at the sight of Tendaji blocking the entry.
“Rahab has asked you to stay. You will stay,” he said, command in his voice.
“Who’s going to make us? You?” Tzadok’s mocking tone made Rahab want to slap him, but she held her peace and pulled the cat closer.
“If that’s what you require.” Tendaji’s look turned menacing. “Do you truly think Dabir jumped to his death?”
For once, Tzadok had no response.
“Dabir was a fool,” Tendaji said, “but he did not die a fool’s death. Take care that you do not do the same.”
Rahab’s brothers stepped back, the threat clear, while Tendaji returned to the gate to stand guard. Relief filled her as she watched her family settle onto couches and chairs, all huddled together, listening to the carnage outside. One thing was certain. The wall had fallen all around them, but her house remained standing. If she did not believe in the God of Israel before this, she did now.
Tendaji drew in a breath and slowly released it. If Rahab’s brothers had not backed down, he did not know what he would have done. He was no match for all of them, and he could not kill them as he had Dabir. He had no stomach for such a thing without just provocation.
He leaned against the wall behind the locked iron gate, watching Israelite soldiers enter the houses of Rahab’s neighbors. Screaming came to him from up the street, a woman crying and cursing the man chasing her. Tendaji watched as she hiked her skirts to better outrun him, but he could tell she would not get far in bare feet and carrying a heavy sack over her shoulder.
Don’t be a fool, he nearly shouted at her, but he knew she would not hear from this distance. He glanced back at Rahab’s family where they huddled. He could help this woman, pull her inside to safety.
He undid the bolt and slipped through the gate’s opening, closing it quietly behind him. The woman drew closer, but her pursuer was gaining on her.
“Come with me,” Tendaji shouted. “You will be safe here.” He stepped into the street and moved toward her, reaching for her hand. “Leave your burden.” But she refused to do so.
Before their hands could touch, she stumbled, her lifeblood spilling onto the ground at his feet. Tendaji stood dumbstruck. He had not seen the other Israelite come from the side alley. Fear and disgust rose with his bile, and he nearly wretched.
“You would kill a mere woman?” he shouted, anger rushing through him. He turned to run back to the safety of Rahab’s courtyard, but then fell to his knees as the pain of a sword sliced through his back and came out his gut, spilling his blood on the stones in front of Rahab’s house.
Joshua climbed over the ramp the wall had created and met Salmon and Mishael coming toward him. The smell of death rose all around them, and silence filled the space where the shouts and screams had been.
“We have done as you commanded, my lord,” Salmon said, sheathing his sword. “We have yet to go throughout the city to be sure, but by all accounts every living thing is dead.”
Joshua nodded. “Good.” His solemn gaze held penetrating sorrow. To destroy a people did not bring joy. But they had exacted judgment as God had commanded. Salmon found no pleasure in the work.
Joshua ran a hand through his hair and looked toward the one house still standing along the wall. “Go into the prostitute’s house and bring her out and all who belong to her, in accordance with your oath to her,” he said.
Salmon glanced at Mishael, then back at Joshua. “It will be as you say.” They turned and walked quickly down the bloodied street. Bodies lay strewn along the lane, and when they approached the familiar gate, Salmon saw the Nubian guard who had protected Rahab and kept their secret lying facedown, his blood pooling around him.
Mishael shook his head. “Why did he not stay in her home?”
Salmon shrugged. “Only he knows, and he is not here to tell us.”
They stepped gingerly around the man and pushed the gate open, which was surprisingly unlocked. A crying child greeted their ears, and the sounds of shuffling grew in the sitting room.
Salmon knocked on the closed door. “Rahab?”
Silence followed, but he heard soft footfalls cross the room. The door opened, and Rahab, holding an animal—was that a cat?—looked into his face, sheer relief evident in her dark, unpainted eyes. How beautiful she was. If only . . . But he let the thought fall away.
“Come with us, all of you. We are about to burn the city.”
Rahab faced her family. “Gather only what is necessary. This is our chance to start anew.”
Salmon noted a few dark looks from some who could only be her brothers, but the women in the group showed tears of relief. The old man, possibly Rahab’s father, carried a look of utter defeat. Salmon didn’t blame him. And yet, he just wanted to get them out of the city and settled outside Israel’s camp.
“Hurry,” he said, trying hard to be patient.
Rahab came first, still clinging to the cat, and Mishael went ahead of them out the courtyard gate.
“Don’t look around,” Salmon said quietly to Rahab. “It will only give you nightmares.” As seeing the bodies of Zimri and Kozbi had done for him.
But Rahab stopped at the sight of Tendaji and sank to her knees. The cat squirmed to leave her arms, but she tightened her hold. “Tendaji! No!” Her voice wavered. “Why did you not stay inside?”
Her soft weeping and the way she touched the Nubian’s cold hand moved him. Suddenly she did not seem like a prostitute anymore, but a woman who had lost someone she loved.
Salmon knelt at her side and gently gripped her arm, tugging her to come away from death. “Come,” he said softly. “There is nothing to be done for him.”
He placed a calming hand on the cat’s head, pulled Rahab gently to her feet, and guided her with one hand at the small of her back, too aware of the curve of her waist beneath the simple tunic. He glimpsed a woman not far from Tendaji, cut down in the act of running. Perhaps Tendaji had tried to save her. He prayed Adonai would have mercy on the man’s soul, though he knew there was nothing to be done about that now.
At last they reached Joshua’s side, and Salmon introduced Rahab to their leader.
“You are the prostitute who saved the lives of my men.” Joshua’s comment was not a question, but Rahab nodded regardless. “Thank you for sparing them. As you have done for them, we have done for you. These men will take you to the area outside of our camp where you can set up a camp of your own. They will see to any needs you have.”
Rahab glanced for a long moment at the pet in her arms, then lifted her chin and met Joshua’s gaze. “Thank you, my lord. I hope from this day on, I will no longer be thought of as a prostitute. I want to pledge allegiance to Israel.”
Joshua nodded. “Such an occupation is not allowed in Israel,” he
said frankly. “We will discuss your future in a few days.”
He dismissed them to give orders to put the silver and gold and bronze and iron into the treasury of the Lord’s house, then put the city to the flames. Salmon led Rahab and her family to the outskirts of Israel’s camp.
She faced him as he was about to turn back to join his men. “What I said to your leader . . .” She paused as if searching for words. “I meant it. I will do whatever is required to follow your God.”
Skepticism warred with wanting to believe her as Salmon searched her earnest gaze. “The men of your family would have to be circumcised to join us.”
She lowered her head but a moment. “I do not know if my family will accept that.” She looked up. “But regardless of what they choose, I want to obey your God, the God who saved us.”
Salmon nodded. “Joshua will explain to you what must be done,” he said, suddenly anxious to leave. “I will come for you to meet him in the morning.”
Later that evening as smoke curled from the city to the sky, Salmon pondered Rahab’s request. The law did make provisions for captive brides. The problem would be finding someone willing to marry a prostitute. Former prostitute, he corrected himself, and yet he could not get the stigma of that fact from his mind.
Light from the moon shone down on the celebrating camp as a group of warriors gathered around Joshua. Mishael sidled up alongside Salmon, both of them looking toward what used to be Jericho.
“Too bad for all of those people,” Mishael said, his voice unusually solemn. “I mean, I know they were under God’s curse because of the detestable things they did and the worship they promoted, and I know He intended us to exact His will . . . but it’s still hard to watch.”
“Most of the men are happy about the victory.” Salmon met his friend’s gaze. “But I agree with you.” Battle was not at all as he had expected. Watching the life flow from a man, woman, child, or animal, all at the end of his own sword . . . He looked heavenward, wishing Adonai would wash him clean of the memories.
“It’s not like I expected,” Mishael said, shaking his head. “I’m glad we were able to save Rahab, though.”
Salmon glanced at Mishael, a strange foreboding growing within him. “Are you considering offering to marry her?”
Mishael looked at him strangely. “Me?” He laughed. “It hadn’t even crossed my mind—not for myself.” He gave Salmon a pointed look. “I thought she seemed perfect for you.”
Salmon scoffed. “You want me to marry a prostitute?”
“Can you not overlook the sins of her past? She is a woman whom Adonai deemed worthy to save.”
“Why me then? Why not you?” Salmon felt his defenses rising.
Mishael gave him a sidelong glance as the crowd grew near Joshua’s tent. “I was thinking about her younger sister.” He smiled, that mischievous grin that always said less than Salmon wanted to know. On the walk to the outskirts of the camp, Rahab had introduced her family. Mishael must have noticed Adara, the unmarried younger sister in the group.
“You’re hopeless,” Salmon said as they both turned to join the ranks at Joshua’s tent.
Joshua climbed up on a large stone and raised his hands for silence. The crowd quieted.
“Look toward Jericho, all of you,” Joshua said with a loud cry. “And hear my words.” He paused as the men faced Jericho’s smoldering remains. “Cursed before the Lord is the one who undertakes to rebuild this city, Jericho. At the cost of his firstborn son he will lay its foundations. At the cost of his youngest he will set up its gates.”
Silence followed Joshua’s remarks. Slowly, the crowd dispersed, Joshua’s words sobering.
“You want company tonight?” Mishael asked as Salmon headed toward his tent alone.
Salmon shrugged. “Sure. As long as you don’t snore.”
Mishael laughed. “I can’t promise that, but I’ll try not to kick you in my sleep.”
“Good. Then tomorrow you can come with me to Rahab’s camp and escort her to Joshua.” Salmon ran a hand through his hair at the thought. “Then we will see what is to be done with her.”
By faith the walls of Jericho fell down after they were encircled for seven days. By faith the harlot Rahab did not perish with those who did not believe, when she had received the spies with peace.
Hebrews 11:30–31 NKJV
Likewise, was not Rahab the harlot also justified by works when she received the messengers and sent them out another way?
James 2:25 NKJV
Nahshon the father of Salmon,
Salmon the father of Boaz, whose mother was Rahab,
Boaz the father of Obed, whose mother was Ruth,
Obed the father of Jesse,
and Jesse the father of King David.
Matthew 1:4–6
23
The smoke from Jericho’s burned-out city carried an acrid, sickening scent toward the Israelite camp, and Rahab stood in her tent watching the last of the curling blackness reach greedy fingers toward the heavens. The pink light of dawn seemed out of place against the backdrop of such destruction.
She blinked away the ever-present emotion, seeing in her mind’s eye Tendaji’s broken body. Had her cook suffered the same fate? But of course she had, for she had refused to stay once the shout of Israel’s warriors was heard from outside Jericho’s gates. The loss, the shock of it all, had overtaken Rahab’s family as the flames rose higher. But for fear of the triumphant Israelites, the women had wept quietly, without the normal mourners’ loud cries and tears. She hugged herself, feeling the soft skin of her arms, still struggling to accept the fact that she had been spared.
Why—when she deserved judgment? For despite Dabir’s part in forcing her into prostitution, she had acted her part willingly. She could have refused and rotted in one of their prisons. If Dabir hadn’t beaten her to death first.
The truth was, she had done what she had to in order to live. To save her family. And herself.
The admission did nothing to wash the scars from her memory. Just as the baths she had required at the end of each evening with some sniveling customer had done nothing to rid her mind of what they did to her, what she allowed them to do. Worse, with a handful, perhaps only one—Prince Nahid—she had allowed herself to care, to enjoy his attention.
She closed her eyes for the briefest moment. Judgment had come on those men even as it should have come on her, and yet here she stood. She was free to start a new life, a respectable life.
The thought should have pleased her, did please her, but . . . Salmon’s look of disdain, the one he tried to hide, surfaced in her mind, and she wondered if anyone would let her forget what she’d been.
She glanced up at the sound of male voices coming from the Israelite camp. Fear curdled her middle. Would such men seek out her services even against their God’s wishes? Was she safe even here?
But as the men drew closer, she recognized Salmon and Mishael. She drew in a breath, forcing calmness into her spirit. Tendaji would have protected her. Could she count on Joshua and these two men to do the same?
She left the door of her tent and walked with graceful steps to meet Israel’s two spies. She bowed at their feet as they approached.
“Rise, Rahab,” Salmon said, and his voice carried a hint of emotion she had not expected. “There is no need to bow to us.”
She rose quickly, smoothing her skirts. “I only wished to express my gratitude to you both.” She flushed, unable to hold either man’s gaze. “Thank you, again, for saving my family.”
Salmon cleared his throat. “We are happy to have done so. Without you, we would not be standing here.”
She looked up at that, searched his face. Silence fell between them until Mishael chuckled. “I think we have all said enough thank-yous. Now how about we get on with what we came for?” His smile held a mischievous glint, and Rahab tilted her head and lifted a brow.
“And what would that be, my lord?”
“We came to take you to Joshu
a.” Salmon turned and gestured toward the Israelite camp. “Is there anything you need to do first?”
Rahab thought a moment. To walk through the camp with just two men . . .
“I would like to bring my sister Adara, if you can wait while I get her.” She prayed her sister was not still sleeping.
The men nodded, and Rahab hurried toward her tent, which Adara had shared the night before. “Adara?” She spoke softly, looking around the darkened tent, relieved when she saw her sister step from behind a partition, tying the belt of her robe.
“What is it?”
“Oh good. You are awake.”
“It is hard to sleep on the ground, and besides, I heard you talking and peeked outside. What do those men want?” Adara’s wide eyes were filled with curiosity and a sense of excitement.
“They came to take me to Joshua, their leader. If you are willing, I would like you to come with me.” She glanced beyond her sister a moment, surprised at the heat again filling her face. What was this sense of humility, of shame?
“I would be happy to come with you.” Her smile brightened, calming some of Rahab’s unease.
“Good. Run and tell Father and Mother where we are going. And hurry. I do not want to keep them waiting.” Rahab left the tent, knowing her sister’s desire for adventure would cause her quick obedience.
A few moments later, Salmon and Mishael led Rahab and Adara into Israel’s camp, with her oldest brother Azad joining them. Perhaps her father was more protective than she realized, though Rahab knew it was for Adara’s sake that Azad followed them.
“I am surprised they ever let you act as my maid,” Rahab whispered to Adara, out of Azad’s hearing. “Or sleep in my tent.”
Adara gripped Rahab’s arm and leaned close. “They only fuss over me because I am the youngest. But I know how to get my way when I really want it.” She twisted her baby finger through Rahab’s and smiled. “Father is not so hard to reason with. He is just angry at what all those men have done to you. And he doesn’t trust the Israelites.”
Crimson Cord : Rahab's Story (9781441221155) Page 17
