Shelter of the Most High

by Connilyn Cossette

  We turned, searching out Nadir, whom I’d last seen leaning against a terebinth as Prezi and I had gone to dip our sandals in the icy water. I shadowed my eyes against the flare of the setting sun, peering toward the tree where we’d left him.

  He was there, but he was not alone.

  Five men now stood beneath the shade of the tree. At first I thought perhaps Nadir had been accosted, but then he laughed, his demeanor relaxed as he gestured for the two of us to join them.

  One of the strangers, a tall man with close-cropped dark hair and a tightly trimmed beard, turned to meet my curious gaze as Prezi and I cautiously approached. Something about him was familiar, the set of his shoulders perhaps, or his coloring, but his piercing black eyes and the slight frown on his mouth were anything but friendly. I slipped my hand into Prezi’s, feeling a distinct urge to run but knowing her leg would not allow it.

  “Who is this?” I asked Nadir, attempting to conceal my apprehension. Had he not said no one would see us here?

  “There’s nothing to fear, Sofea.” His tone was reassuring but somehow did little to comfort me.

  “We should return,” I said, trying to make my voice sound unaffected. “The sun is to set.”

  The tall stranger surveyed me, head to foot. “So this is she?” he asked Nadir, as if I had not spoken. A pulse of dread cascaded down my back, and Prezi’s grip on my hand became a vise.

  “It is.” Nadir’s mouth quirked into the shadow of a satisfied smile. Then he gave me a small shrug, a feeble apology as he delivered a devastating betrayal. “Eitan will come for her, without a doubt.”

  Fool that I was, I’d walked directly into a trap set for Eitan by none other than Darek’s brother Raviv, and taken my cousin with me. Within moments, we were surrounded by his men and herded toward a small group of homes and black tents on the edge of the valley. There was no point in fighting our capture; Prezi was lame and I would not leave her.

  Skirting the dwellings by a wide margin, we were led through the deepening shadows to a half-constructed house at the foot of a sloping apple orchard. Raviv’s men bound us, hand and foot, and left us with nothing more than a threadbare woolen blanket and the darkening sky above to cover us.

  Prezi and I huddled close together on the dirt floor as Raviv ordered two of his men to stay by the door and another to keep watch, ensuring that any hope of escape, or rescue, was fully squelched. All of it was startlingly similar to being locked in the hull of Seno’s ship. Except this time, instead of weeping or shrinking in on herself, Prezi merely leaned her head on mine and offered confident reassurance.

  “Someone will come, Sofi,” she whispered, with echoes of Moriyah in her serene tone. “Yahweh has his eye on us, even now. If we—”

  Two voices on the other side of the stone wall halted whatever she’d been about to say.

  “It was fortunate that Sofea and Eitan had a spat this afternoon,” said Nadir. “It provided me with the perfect opportunity to lead them out to the lake. I knew someone would sight us and send you word.”

  “How do you know Eitan will come if they were arguing?” asked Raviv.

  “He’s been lusting after her for months. And now he’s determined to marry her. I know him well enough to be sure that he’ll find a way out of those gates to chase her down, no matter what your brother says. And fortunately Darek and his men have gone north, so they will not be an issue.”

  “I guess this is the next best thing, since you failed at luring him out alone.”

  Nadir’s tone sharpened. “I did my best. I told you it would take time to gain his trust. I’ve been slaving away in that foundry for over half a year in order to do just that.”

  The truth sickened me. He’d initiated friendship with Eitan solely for the purpose of betraying him, even before we’d come to Kedesh. My fingernails dug into my palms as I considered all the times Moriyah had invited him into her home, the meals she’d offered him, and how often I’d seen him laughing or jesting with Eitan. Every moment of it had been false. A ruse to ingratiate himself with the family he’d been planning to betray.

  “And what of you?” asked Raviv.

  “I intend to be free, just as I told you the day we met by chance at the lake,” said Nadir. “I will take back what was stolen from me—by whatever means necessary. I will return within eight days to collect the reward you promised so I can rebuild my life, far from here.”

  Their voices faded into the night, leaving behind only the rustle of the night breeze through the leaves, the murmuring of our guards, and the hushed echo of birdcalls from across the water far behind us.

  Twisting around, I took in the height of the wall at our backs, searching for climbing niches in the stone, wondering if I might be able to at least reach the leafy branch that hung over the top. But no matter how hard I struggled against the papyrus ropes that bound my hands and feet, I only succeeded in creating abrasions on my wrists. And even if I did get free, there was no possible way Prezi could scale a wall and outrun the guards. And I did not even want to consider what these men might do to her if I left her alone.

  “There is nothing we can do,” said Prezi, scooting her body down to lay beside me. “Instead of fretting, let’s try to get some sleep. Perhaps the morning won’t look so grim.”

  Although tempted to argue, I followed her lead and curled up beside her beneath the blanket. And then, as if we were in our cozy bed back at the inn, she began to sing a Sicani lullaby, low and sweet, and followed that with a few she’d learned in Hebrew until I drifted into a surprisingly peaceful sleep.

  Just after dawn, Nadir entered our roofless prison, looking well-rested and smug, followed by Raviv. Dazed from being jolted awake and sore from sleeping on the ground, I fumbled to sit up without the use of my hands.

  “Get up,” said Nadir, coming forward with a knife in his hand. Shocked, I gasped and jerked backward, but he only laughed and sliced the papyrus ropes from around my ankles. “You, my sweet Sofi, are coming with me.”

  “No!” I scrabbled against the ground with my heels, pressing myself against the wall. “I will not leave Prezi!”

  He grabbed me by the arm and hauled me to my feet. “You will do as I say or she will die.”

  Terror swept over me. How could I have ever trusted this man?

  “I have a task for you,” he said, his smile chilling. “Nothing too difficult, I assure you.”

  Raviv stepped forward. “No, she’s the one Eitan wants. Take the other.”

  “She is lame. There is no way she can make the journey. Besides, all you need is one of them to draw him here. If he doesn’t arrive by nightfall, send someone into the city tomorrow to spread the rumor that the girls were spotted heading toward the valley. He’ll come.”

  Realizing that Nadir meant to separate me from my cousin, possibly for good, I bucked violently against his grip. “I won’t leave her. Let go!”

  He wrenched my arm behind my back and leaned close, his words dropping into hushed malice. “You will do as I say, or I will slit her throat. And if I don’t return within eight days, if you thwart my plans in any way, Raviv will make sure she is never found.”

  I searched his face for any hint of pretense, or any trace of the man I’d thought was a friend, but instead I saw only my trembling reflection in the eyes of a stranger.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Eitan

  28 Tishri

  I trusted Nadir to protect Sofea and Prezi, but where could they possibly have gone? Banned from leaving the confines of Kedesh to go out and look for the three of them, I’d spent a sleepless night on the rooftop last night, peering into the dark tree line, watching for any movement among the shadows.

  I cursed myself for spending the entire day working out my frustrations on the foundry roof after the storm. Perhaps if I’d returned sooner I would have discovered they were missing and had time to search for them before the sun went down.

  And yet the truth hit me between the eyes—it
wouldn’t have made a difference. Chaim still wouldn’t have let me pass through the gates, since his duty to Darek far outweighed any concern for Sofea. At least he’d had enough respect for our childhood acquaintance to take a couple of men with torches and search the area.

  Darek had done this. If I’d not been forced to stay in the city when they went out to gather firewood, I would be with her now. I’d know for certain she was safe. The horrific words I’d tossed at her came back to me for the hundredth time. It is not enough for me. Of course she was enough! What had I done by spewing my frustrations all over Sofea? She had not hesitated when I’d told her our days would be lived out here in Kedesh, only reassured me that a life with me was all she wanted. I’d thrown her affection for me back in her face.

  Entering the courtyard, I found my mother in her usual place, kneeling on the ground near her oven, kneading out her worries in the dough trough. Her eyes were closed and her lips moved silently as she pressed her knuckles into the pillow of barley bread over and over. The sight gave me a small measure of hope—if Yahweh would heed anyone’s prayers, it would be my mother’s.

  Her eyelids fluttered open as I approached, concern twisting her face. “Anything?”

  I shook my head. “I checked with the Levite family Nadir has been lodging with, but they have not seen him since yesterday morning.” His room had been empty—save for one bed, a woolen mantle, and a few scattered belongings. I’d actually been surprised that his chamber was so barren, as if he were only a visitor passing through, not a man condemned to life here.

  “I have to do something,” I said. “I just can’t stand around while she’s . . . while the three of them are out there.” I flung a hand toward the impenetrable city wall.

  “We don’t know they are in danger, son. They could very well be just down the street. Remember that time you and Tal were accidentally locked in the storage room beneath the old Canaanite temple overnight? We had to practically turn the city over before we found you.”

  I also remembered the pitch-blackness that surrounded us there and the fear of two young boys, neither of whom would admit to the other how terrified they really were as they waited to be rescued. I dug my fingers into my hair with a groan. “You don’t understand. I said something terrible to her before she walked out of those gates. I hurt her. I turned my back—” I choked on the words, my throat surging with fire. “And if something happens to her, I’d never forgive myself if those were the last words . . .” I could not finish the thought and slumped down onto a stool nearby, my head in my hands.

  “Perhaps then, if her heart is tender, she and Prezi have gone somewhere to let the sting pass, and Nadir is watching over them.” My mother slipped her arms around my shoulders, speaking into my good ear. “We must trust Yahweh, my son. The God who made Sofea sees her.”

  “I have to find her, Ima.”

  She brushed my hair back from my face like she used to do when I was a boy. “I know, Eitan.” Her smile was sad, resigned, as she kissed my forehead. “And I understand. But let’s give them a bit more time before you make any hasty decisions.”

  Unable to sit still any longer, I told her I needed to go speak to Chaim at the gatehouse to see if he’d discovered any trace of them this morning, and if not, I would knock on every door in Kedesh until I found her.

  Two half-full baskets of tree limbs had been found tucked behind one of the larger olive trees by the men Chaim had sent out into the surrounding area. With a grimace of apology, he said the baskets looked to have been deliberately hidden, and that nothing suggested that Nadir and the girls had been taken by force. He’d already called off the search since they could have gone in any direction and there was no trail to follow. I left the gatehouse, chest aching as Chaim’s words sank into my bones. “I’m sorry, Eitan. It looks as though she ran away.”

  Sofea must have convinced Nadir to help her flee the city after I’d wounded her so deeply. No matter how well Prezi had settled into Kedesh, she would never leave her cousin’s side. Since he’d undoubtedly protect them both with his life, Nadir must have taken them somewhere they would be fed and cared for. Somewhere that would be a place of comfort to the woman I’d tossed aside like the fool I was. The only answer that made sense was that they’d gone to his family home on the shore of Kinneret.

  The water Sofea missed so much would certainly be a solace after I’d heedlessly pushed her away after my argument with Darek. From what Nadir had told me, his village was less than a day’s walk from here—but it might as well have been ten thousand miles, as I could not put a foot past the gates.

  Had I lost her for good?

  Perhaps it was for the best. Hadn’t I known all along that being trapped here with me was not the best thing for her? Now she’d be free to go where she wanted, to explore the lakeshore, to seek out a new life without walls. A life without me.

  Either I was wrong and the three of them would come back by nightfall so I could beg Sofea’s forgiveness, or Nadir would return to confirm my assumption and put my fears to rest. With nothing else to do, I headed back to the foundry to throw myself into work and pray.

  Although dusk had fallen, a few people still ambled through the streets, going to visit friends for the evening meal or carrying out chores that required attention. A few called out a greeting, but I ignored them as my sleep-deprived body moved toward the inn of its own volition. Sarai had come by the foundry earlier to deliver the news that still no word had been heard from the girls or Nadir, and that my family had taken up my cause and knocked on every door in the city but no one else had seen them either. Bereft of hope, I wanted nothing more than to go home, lock myself in my bedchamber, and sink into oblivion.

  With my path lit by the flicker of oil lamps perched in open windows to greet the twilight, I passed the city gates where I’d trampled all over Sofea’s trust and stomped on her heart yesterday. I’d likely never come this way again without remembering those sharp-edged words flying out of my mouth or seeing her blue eyes glossing over after the words had hit their target.

  Just as I turned the corner toward the inn, a familiar figure darted from the shadows, heading in the opposite direction.

  The young shepherd.

  I hadn’t seen him since that day near the palm tree at the inn, and when I’d searched for him among the Levite shepherds, they’d told me only that he was from up north near Laish. He’d arrived alone and begged for work in order to fill his empty stomach, but he had disappeared after that day I’d seen him watching my mother.

  My pulse kicked up as I changed course to follow him, lagging behind about ten paces so he would not notice me. If I could not find Sofea, at least I could confront Raviv’s spy and ensure that my mother was protected.

  To my surprise, the shepherd stopped just past Dov and Rachel’s home and wedged himself into the gap between two homes, his attention turned back toward the open doorway where Binah stood in the spill of lamplight talking to someone, perhaps delivering a message to the head priest of the city. My mother and the woman she’d employed for the past few years looked nothing alike, so there would be no reason for the young man to mistake one for the other. So what reason would he have to follow Binah? Perplexed, I tucked myself into the shadows as well to watch and wait. Only curiosity and Baz’s training kept me from rushing toward the young man and demanding that he reveal his connection to Raviv.

  After a short conversation, Binah turned away from the threshold as the door closed, her face troubled. She stepped back into the street, the silver in her dark curls glinting in the waning moonlight as she began walking back toward the inn. Before I had a chance to take a step toward her or call out her name, the shepherd lunged from his hiding place behind her, his hand outstretched. Although caught off-guard by the sudden move, instinct took over, and I barreled toward him. He called out something unintelligible, and Binah spun around, hands lifted to fend off the attack and a scream bursting from her lips. With a bellow of fury, I angled my shoulder to plo
w into the shepherd, but not before he brought down the dagger he’d been holding and buried it in Binah’s chest.

  The three of us went down, a tangle of bodies and shouts and blood. The shepherd elbowed me in the mouth and slithered away, but I caught him by the tunic and swung him around. He threw a miscalculated punch, making it clear that he was nowhere near as well trained as I was. Catching his wrist in my right hand, I twisted it, dislodging the dagger before smashing my left fist into his jaw. Although he was a head shorter than I was and hadn’t yet filled out into a manly build, somehow he held firm. He struggled against my hold on his tunic, cursing Binah, and then kicked me in the knee, which nearly knocked me down. I grunted at the impact, but fury ripped through me, and this time when I swung my fist upward, all the pent-up anger at Raviv—along with my despair over Sofea—hit the shepherd directly beneath the chin. His neck jerked sideways, his eyes rolling back into his head before he slumped to the ground, unconscious.

  Someone grabbed me from behind, pinning my arms behind my back with a loud command that made it evident a guard had me in his grip. I did not fight against it, knowing the scene was chaotic and the perpetrator unclear. I dragged in a deep breath, straining to slow the heaving of my chest and the rush of my pulse in my ears. My knee throbbed and one elbow stung, both skinned and bleeding from skidding across the cobblestones. Three more guards gathered around us, ordering curious onlookers to go back inside their homes.

  With the air of authority befitting the head priest’s wife, Rachel pushed past them, her face pale as she took in Binah’s bleeding body. “Help her,” I managed to say between labored breaths. “He struck her in the chest with that dagger.”

  Kneeling in the street, Rachel pressed her hands against the wound, issuing a command for one of the gawking neighbors to fetch the healer who lived two doors down. When the guard released me, I realized that it was Chaim who’d had me constrained.