Babes in Toyland II

by Aspen Mountain Press Authors

  "Better.” He nodded before limping up to where she stood to loom over her. “What is your name?"

  The way he posed the question put her on the defensive. “What is your name?"

  "I am Abijah bar Esau of the Levites from the land of Ashken, far beyond the Caucasus Mountains.” Saka looked the man over once, twice and again before cautiously answering.

  "I am one who has no name, daughter of she who was called ‘Stranger’ from the land of the Ishkuzi beyond the Altay Mountains.” The news seemed to mean something to the old man and he narrowed his eyes. The milky one seemed to stare through her, though she knew it useless.

  "All that separates those mountains is a sea."

  "A sea and the raiders, both Scythian and Assyrian,” she nodded. “Slaves have much worth in the markets.” He walked a halting circle around her, studying her closely. Their exchange gathered observers, annoyed he turned and barked orders at the would-be spectators, sending them scurrying and leaned a hand on her shoulder.

  "I wish to visit where you make your home."

  Outside the home of Moshe, Saka paused to allow the Nubian guards to get a clear view that she was guiding the older man and was not his prisoner. Inside was chaos. Stepping across the threshold was akin to wandering back into the fray of battle; only the missiles hurtled between the sides were words.

  Understanding none of it, Saka waited for a lull in the storm to introduce her guest. When it became clear that no one cared that they stood there, she tossed her spear on the floor, separating Naomi and Orali from Penina and Hadassah. Startled, the four fell silent as Saka stumbled trying to properly introduce the elder.

  "No matter, child,” he gripped her shoulder. “Wait for me here, we won't be staying."

  Stunned, she watched the old man enter the room to low bows from the women and their rattled husbands. “I have come to summon Jacob of the Kohanim to the Temple Mount in the morning to assist the Levites with the rededication.” He bent and retrieved the spear, leaning on it as Saka had done, waiting for the family to stop chattering over the honor.

  "Furthermore, I understand that the daughter of my daughter was purchased by the owner of this house.” Wait ... what? She couldn't have heard correctly. Her Hebrew was wrong, that or the old one took a blow to the head during battle and had become addled. “Come here girl.” This time she understood perfectly as he addressed her in Rus. “What was the price paid?"

  "I don't know,” she admitted. “Jacob asked but Moshe wouldn't say."

  He gave her a long look out of that lone blue eye, “Why would Jacob care to know your cost?"

  Her face burned, remembering the nights they shared.

  "So that is the way of it then.” His voice was kinder as he turned his attention back to the astonished room.

  "Abijah, Kohanim Gadol,” Moshe nearly prostrated himself, “you are mistaken. I bought this creature from a Syrian merchant to serve my household as a guardian. It isn't possible that this ... this Saka Ishkuzi would be flesh of your flesh.” The dark head kept bobbing in deference with every other word.

  "Is that your name?"

  Again Abijah addressed her in Rus and once more Saka felt her face burn, this time in anger.

  "That is what I called myself, it was better than Dog.” This was getting crazy. What was really happening and where was Jacob?

  "Your mother, what did she name you?” His voice was gentle, but firm, sensing her growing anxiety.

  "She wasn't permitted to give me a name. I was born female, worthless. But she told me my father was a warrior, Ashken. After she died I tried to use the name but was beaten and told I said it wrong, it was Ishkuzi."

  Abijah nodded and stared at the floor deep in thought, “That would mean you crossed the Gobi and trained with the slant-eyed ones."

  He didn't phrase it as a question, so she ignored him and continued to cast about the room looking for Jacob. He could make everything make sense again. Where was he?

  "How much, Moshe?” He demanded again, sending the other man into another round of bobbing.

  "I give her to you, freely. She tempted my Jacob to ruination."

  Grunting in disgust, Abijah swung round, catching Saka's arm in an iron grip. “Come then, child, we are leaving."

  For the first time in her life, Saka felt the sting of tears. Leaving? But what of Jacob? Wouldn't she be permitted to see him one last time? In unison, the family turned their backs to her and she stumbled backwards letting the old one pull her from the house.

  Standing in the moonlight was one of the mercenaries holding an unhappy looking Darghu. Whispering words of endearment to her horse, she slid her hands over his neck. He hadn't raised a sweat, meaning Jacob lead him out. Only one calling his name could command him.

  "Are these your things then?” The old man's voice was soft with a gruff undertone, blending perfectly with the rain that started anew. Her throat tightened, strangling her words. With a shrug she refused to look at the bags tied to the saddle. The rain also served to hide the hot wash of tears rolling down her cheeks as she stalked forward, keeping one step behind the older man as she left her heart behind.

  From the roof, Jacob watched Saka rub her stallion and remembered the feel of her hands on his skin. The pain in his chest felt raw and ragged, but he remained silent.

  "You've been honored, son,” Moshe stood at the top of the stairs, speaking in measured tones. “The Kohanim Gadol wishes you to aid the Levites in the rededication of the Temple."

  "Is that why you gave him Saka?” He refused to look at his father. Moshe had been determined to see her dead. Perhaps this was better, she still lived.

  "No,” his voice hardened, “I believe the old one's mind grows feeble; he claimed her as family."

  Shock warred with hope as Jacob studied the stars.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Exhaustion dogged her steps but Saka did as she was bidden, donning women's clothes and sitting beneath a bowed lemon tree on a stone bench watching the Temple. The old man had an impressive amount of endurance, staying up with her through the night, grilling her again and again on her childhood, her sisters and her mother. It was all a confusing mish-mash jumbled in her head and the quiet gave her time to put her thoughts to order.

  The thing she remembered most clearly was Abijah's worry that there wasn't enough sacred olive oil for a special lantern in the Temple. It was then that her fever dreams made sense. “I had dreams of fire. So long as one heart believes without reservation, the lamp will stay lit."

  A non-committal noise greeted her prophecy, “And when did you receive this vision?” Haltingly she explained it came and went with fever as she laid suffering with a wound in Jacob's bed.

  "You permitted yourself to know Jacob? How many others have you known?"

  Confused at the use of the word know, she tilted her head and look at him in askance.

  "Gone without clothes and made two flesh as one."

  "Oh.” It was aggravating the way color stained her face every time someone asked about that, but she had no control. “I was considered unnatural. The men of the camp avoided my bed, even when drunk."

  The old man didn't reply, he just sat looking at her odd wardrobe. Her vest ruined, she had taken one of Jacob's cast off tunics and belted it tight. Beyond that, she wore the same garb of her Kimmeroi camp. In the end he demanded her clothes and handed her a woven basket packed tight with aged dresses that fit almost perfectly.

  The day warmed and still she sat, a feeling of contentment stealing over her. Abijah said it would take a miracle for his kinsmen to accept her as his kin, but if they did, she might have a future with Jacob. Given the way his family reacted, Saka had faith only in the fire that burned in her heart. No other man made her feel as he did, a true woman worth cherishing. She believed his God, Elokim, brought them together for more than pain and sadness.

  * * * *

  It was amazing how clean the Levites had made the Temple in so few hours. Here and there the stone
was stained with blood and smoke but all else had been swept away and removed. When all was ready, Abijah, the Kohanim Gadol, stood on the bimah and welcomed those who came for the rededication, Hanukkah, ceremony.

  With the Levites there were members of his own clan, the Kohanim, as well as from a handful of the other tribes. Over the centuries some of the Diaspora had managed to return home to Judah, but not all. The remnants of those tribes stood silent, waiting.

  "It has been a long and bloody battle bringing us here today.” The old one lightly fingered his stricken eye and paused. “This battle has been fought for centuries and I fear it will return in future generations. Because of this wound, many say I am unfit to be the Kohanim Gadol, my perfection of features has been contaminated.” A few men shuffled and coughed in the crowd, drawing a smile to his lips. “I have heard you; it is my eye that is afflicted not my ears.

  "But my ears have heard more, tales of a tall barbarian woman who fought alongside us to restore our temple. Last night I met this creature. Some have rumored she was a miracle sent by Elokim himself."

  Again the room filled with whispers and he waited for silence to return. “Indeed, when I looked at the warrior I felt a miracle had been wrought. Centuries ago when the Babylonians attacked, we became the Diaspora. My family slowly made our way home, coming closer with each generation until I led my sons here.

  "But ours wasn't an easy passage, as it should not be—anything of value should cost dearly. It did. I lost my wife, the use of my eye and my firstborn daughter, pregnant with her first child. I had believed Shiri, my child, long dead until I looked on the face of the woman fighter.

  "I know,” he waved down the growing sound of hushed voices, “that many think my mind deluded. To you I say this—let there be an answer from Elokim through whom all things are possible. My grandson rides the warrior's mount, wearing her clothes and bearing her bow. I hope the youth has no need of its use since he cannot use it. It is my faith that he will make the ride to Mount Ephraim and back safely, protected by Elokim through the disguise brought to my door."

  He retrieved a small flask and Jacob felt his heart fall to the floor. It was the blessed olive oil to light the Menorah. There was barely enough there to light the lantern for an hour, let alone the eight nights required for Hanukkah.

  "Prophecy is rare among our people, only a few have truly held visions of the future and each who did paid a steep price. Miriam was humbled, Devorah faced humiliation and others met death and degradation. The unnamed warrior, the one I claim as my daughter's daughter, had a single vision, one of fire. So long as one heart believes perfectly in Elokim's might, the Menorah will burn as long as the light is needed."

  A tumult of voices echoed off of the stone walls as Abijah gestured Jacob to approach. He ignored the words flying about, full of anger and worry, so Jacob strove to do the same. “The evening beckons.” He pressed the flask of oil into Jacob's hand. “Begin the prayers and light the Menorah."

  Saka watched as the small glimmer sprang to life and grew. It wasn't a huge fire, but she could see the brilliant glow and her heart eased. Without her leathers few of the men leaving the Temple recognized her, for that she was grateful. Abijah had said some men would remain in the temple for the duration of the rededication. It was understood that she would bring them challah bread, water and marked baskets of foodstuffs. The food laws still baffled her so she was grateful at his foresight.

  "May I sit with you?"

  The voice was one that haunted her every waking moment and Saka wanted to curse her whimsy in wearing the head scarf Jacob purchased for her. It was the only thing she had of him and it made her chest ache with wild emotions. But she looked at the thin light and felt peace seeping back into her heart.

  "I can deny you nothing, please, join me.” She felt the heat of his body and wanted to weep. Until last night she had been strong and Jacob had been soft. Suddenly their roles were reversed. He had been strong enough to turn his back and send her away and she had gone weak with tears.

  "It is a beautiful sight, isn't it?"

  Late at night, he had murmured into her ear words of love in the same tone. Saka's heart swelled with joy, knowing he wasn't watching the light.

  "I do not know. This is the first miracle I have seen. That is the word you say is it not? When your God does the impossible, it is called a miracle, yes?"

  "That is the word, but what makes you think a miracle is going to happen?” She smiled and clasped her hands in her lap.

  "It has already begun. Let us talk of other things.” He shifted away and the cool night air slid between them.

  "What do you wish to speak of?” His voice was guarded.

  "Darghu.” The light flickered as the breeze slid past but stayed strong. There was no doubt in her heart it would last.

  "Your horse? But what makes you think of him?"

  There was something in the way he spoke ... he had expected another subject. Abijah had explained in great detail just how unsuitable she was for Jacob, so she wouldn't broach the subject, not directly.

  "Do you know why Darghu is so important to me?"

  "You fight on horseback—"

  "No.” Laughter welled up and she let it free on the night air. The light in the Temple was reflected a thousand times above in the night sky. The time of rain had come to a close, at least for a little while. “He is precious to me and to me alone. The horses of the people I fought alongside would carry any rider, respond to any command. He belongs to me as I belong to him."

  "I don't understand."

  She refused to meet his gaze and continued to enjoy the view. “His father was a steppe pony, thick-legged and strong. Dark-skinned traders came to our settlement before the snows to do trade with us. One, a leader, rode a beautiful mare; her value he swore was beyond compare.” For a moment her eyes roved to meet Jacob's. He reminded her of that mare.

  "The leader was greatly offended when one of our wooly stallions mounted his mare. The men laughed until he slew the stallion. Our horses have as much value to us as the desert traders lay to their mares. The fight that broke out was vicious but we couldn't risk killing them all; the family allowed us to cross their lands to reach Xian.

  "In the end I tried to buy the mare.” Unbidden, her hand lifted her fingers ghosting along the edge of his cheek until he flinched. With a pang she turned forward, gripping the stone in her hands, resolutely watching the light.

  "Well,” he prompted, “what happened?"

  "Women have even less value to the traders. My voice went unheard until I threatened to cut the mare's throat. The man then told me that so long as the foal's feet didn't touch the ground, the mare's life was safe.

  "I spent the next months with the desert traders waiting for that foal. It was all I could think about—a mount that could handle the heat of the sand and the ice of winter. Sure-footed and able to run all day without water. When Darghu was born, I did not let him touch the ground. I pulled him onto my lap and cut away the birth sac. Then, I carried him away from the traders for three days. When they came to trade, I hid Darghu the first winter then the second, after that they forgot or simply did not recognize him as that foal. The mare lived."

  "A beautiful story.” Did he really just brush away what she was saying so easily? Angrily she stood.

  "It wasn't a story, you foolish man. I did all that for the love of my horse. I became his mother. By his birth, he was defiled but I wanted him, I loved him.” Her vision swam with tears. “I was a fool to give him to you, to give myself to you. I believed you loved as I love, but you don't. Think of what I would have done for love of any child we would have made.

  "Leave my bench and remove yourself from my side. I wish to watch the miracle and listen to God."

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jacob tried to argue with her, but she was having none of it. He made the mistake of thinking Abijah's grandson took all of Saka's weapons. When he reached to take her arm it was to discover she still had her da
gger.

  Returning home was worse. His father wavered between moments of great pride and sadness over the Kohanim Gadol's disturbing obsession with the foreigner. Seeing the small cut on Jacob's upper arm had set off another round of fighting. Moshe wanted to storm up to the Temple and demand atonement for Jacob being assaulted by the ‘creature.'

  Finally, free of the yelling and wailing of his parents and siblings, Jacob made for the roof. He stood and watched in awe. There had only been enough oil for perhaps an hour. Listening to Saka on the bench had taken almost as long. For the rest of the night he stood in disbelief as the light danced in the darkness.

  Just before dawn, Jacob fell asleep on a small rug stored on the roof for especially hot nights. He dreamed again of the cold white dunes. This time he knew it to be snow and he looked around in awe. But unlike the last time, his steps didn't turn the land from icy waste to arable ground, and while he watched the horse frolicking in the snow, it never came when he called—in fact it ran farther away, avoiding him.

  Turning he saw not the house in the woods from before, but his bachelor home. Another two levels had been added. Walking up, he watched a sullen older woman carry a basket of vegetables from the garden followed by two blank-faced children. Peering in a window, he saw himself, older and tired, going over lessons with a dark-haired youth. On the wall behind him were the remains of a bow, unfinished.

  Bolting upward out of the dream, Jacob wiped sweat from his face. He wasn't certain why the dream bothered him as badly as it did. Was this a sign that his future had changed? It didn't seem a change for the better. In the first dream everyone seemed so happy, in the second no one glowed with joy.

  Preoccupied with his thoughts, he made his way to breakfast. The constant bickering faded to background noise and he sipped at one of Yigol's favorite yogurt drinks. It was bitter and he made a face much to the amusement of Elisheva. She giggled, her brown eyes sparkling. It seemed natural to pick the child up and balance her on his knee and feed her fruit bites from his plate.