Deborah Calling

by Avraham Azrieli

  Her fury exploded in a burning, hate-filled determination to kill Seesya, right there and then. The sling whistled as it sliced through the air by her ear, rotating one and a half times. The stone shot out from the pouch, flew over the river, and hit Seesya’s face, which disappeared as the dry tree stump exploded into many small pieces.

  The slaves cheered, and the Edomite group surrounded her, laughing and pounding her back. She managed a smile as her mind struggled to clear away the fog of murderous rage, which slowly faded, leaving her weak and slightly nauseated.

  Kassite limped over from the pavilion. “That was an impressive shot,” he said. “You are an exceptional—”

  “Boy,” she interrupted, afraid he’d say “girl.”

  “Exactly,” he said. “An exceptional young man.”

  “Thank you, Master.”

  He paced up the riverbank, leading her away from the others, and asked, “Whose face did you imagine as your target this time?”

  “Seesya, son of Judge Zifron.” Deborah felt her anger heat up again. “He had my sister stoned to death soon after marrying her, and later, he boasted of murdering my friend Barac and kicking his head like a ball!”

  Kassite held a finger to his lips, hushing her.

  “I’m sorry, Master,” she said, more quietly, “but the thought of him makes me furious and I can’t control it.”

  “Controlling your rage is wasteful.”

  “Why?”

  “Rage is a very useful thing to have.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Kassite looked out over the water, taking his time to choose his words. “Rage is like a mighty stallion, an explosive force of nature. If you fail to tame it, the result can be deadly, but if you harness it wisely, it will carry you over the highest peaks, trample your enemies to oblivion, and deliver you through the toughest battles, all the way to the ultimate victory your heart desires.”

  The sun touched the horizon far down the river, the reddish glow reflecting on the surface of the water. Kassite rang the bell, and the slaves lined up for the evening meal. The men ate under their pavilion while the women took their food back to their curtained pavilion. Everyone ate quietly, watching Kassite with tense anticipation.

  Immediately after the meal, Kassite summoned the group leaders, including Deborah, and told them that everyone would be leaving the tannery for good this night. He didn’t provide an explanation or take questions, but proceeded to assign tasks to each group, except Deborah’s. He nominated Petro to lead the two rafts down the river to the coastal territory of the Philistines.

  When the group leaders went back to inform the men and women of the plan, Deborah expected cheers or cries of shock, but the group leaders allowed none of it and put their subordinates to work promptly.

  Kassite sent Deborah with her six Edomite group members to tie up the sleeping guards. “Don’t harm them,” he said.

  The eight guards were lying on the ground under a big tree near the livestock corral, snoring loudly. An empty barrel of wine lay on its side. Their leather armor, swords, and spears were on the ground nearby. The Edomite slaves gagged the first guard before he could raise the alarm, tied him up, and blindfolded him. They did the same with each of the other seven guards, dragged all of them into the livestock corral, and placed them on the ground in the middle, surrounded by the animals.

  Deborah found the old horse she had ridden to Aphek. “How are you, Soosie?”

  The horse licked her face, making her laugh, and followed her into the tannery. She found a piece of bread by the oven. “Here you go,” she said. “I’ll see you in a little while.”

  The Edomite slaves led the other seven horses, as well as one goat, into the tannery and closed the gate. Deborah, meanwhile, went to Kassite’s house. When she took off the loincloth, it was clean. Her female bleeding was over, and not a moment too soon.

  Under the light of torches, the slaves knocked down the stone columns that supported the roof of their pavilion. They stripped the thatched top and cleaned the beams until the whole roof looked like a giant raft, fifty steps by twenty. Kassite directed them to attach additional crossbeams and planks, fortifying the structure to keep it from buckling. The horses were fitted with harnesses and ropes and dragged the roof into the water. Everyone held their breath, and when the roof stayed afloat, they cheered.

  At the women’s pavilion, the female slaves took down the side curtains and cut them into pieces, which they adjusted as makeshift robes over their long shirts. They had spent the day fabricating sandals for everyone, as well as coats and hats for the men, using hides taken down from the fence. None of it was refined, considering the unfinished tanning process and the speed with which the women had made everything, but it was enough to help everyone resemble free men and women.

  For Kassite’s two servants, Deborah, and the six Edomite slaves, the women had made sets of leather armor and boots.

  The slaves toppled the women’s pavilion, stripped the thatch from the roof, and strengthened it with additional crossbeams and planks. With men and horses pulling together, the second raft was soon in the water, secured to the first one with ropes. Kassite directed the men to bring food from the storage area near the gate and load it onto the rafts. The two women from the infirmary packed up their jars and bottles of potions and ointments, as well as bandages and cots for the injured men currently lying there. A group of slaves carried everything to the rafts.

  Late into the night, the work was finished and the rafts were ready. The slaves lined up at the riverbank. Kassite’s chair was brought over, and he sat down with a purse in his lap. Each slave bowed before him, accepted a silver coin, and boarded the rafts. Many wept softly as they sat down for the journey. Deborah understood why they cried. It wasn’t sorrow or regret, for they were clearly happy to go free, but the sadness of separation from Kassite, who had been like a father to them—strict and demanding, yet fair and generous. Within the world of the tannery, despite the hard work and rough conditions, each one of the slaves knew that Kassite, in his own way, loved them.

  Petro waited until all the men and women had boarded the rafts. Rather than bow, Petro knelt before Kassite and kissed his hand.

  “Thank you, Master,” he said in a broken voice.

  Kassite helped him to his feet. “May the gods watch over you until you reach safety.”

  With Petro standing at the front of the lead raft, a few men took positions at the corners of the rafts and used long planks to push off in the shallow water.

  Kassite limped to the water’s edge.

  The rafts moved very slowly toward the middle of the dark river. Seated shoulder to shoulder, the men and women stared at the shore, their eyes on the tall man with the wide-brimmed hat and bushy white hair, his hand held up for a last farewell.

  Soon, the current took hold of the rafts, and they headed downriver, away from the light of the torches, into complete darkness.

  Part Three

  The Homecoming

  Chapter 12

  Deborah followed Kassite, his two servants, and the goat to his house. The servants helped Kassite take off his coat and hat. They spread the coat on the bed and stabbed it with a knife in many places. They cut off several locks of his white hair, placed them in his hat, and laid it down on the bed with the coat. One of the servants held the goat above the bed, the other one sliced its neck, and the blood poured all over the perforated coat, the hat, and the locks of hair. When the blood ran out, the servant threw the goat into the river.

  Kassite put on a new leather coat, which reached below his knees, and a white leather hat. He bowed before the copper effigy of Qoz and murmured a prayer. With a last look around the house, which had been his home for many years, Kassite sighed and limped outside. Deborah could hear the bridge creaking under his weight.

  One of the servants wrapped the Qoz effigy in a rag and carried it outside. Deborah collected her sack, which had been at Kassite’s house since she arrived at the
tannery, and reached into it. She took out her father’s fire-starters and pressed one stone to each of her cheeks. Standing at the window, looking out at the dark water, she drew strength from the stones and the memories they carried.

  When she went outside, the Edomite slaves were changing into leather armor that covered their chests, backs, and hips. They donned leather helmets, strapped on the guards’ short swords, and tied the spears and shields to the saddles.

  Similar outfits awaited Deborah and Kassite’s two servants. Patrees helped her tighten the straps over her shoulders, connecting the front and back pieces of the armor. Her breasts hurt from the pressing leather. The helmet, which was too big for her head, would have fallen off if not for the chinstrap. A belt carried the sheathed sword and the sling, which was attached with a simple knot that was easy to undo. She paced back and forth to adjust to the rigid outfit. The whole thing felt stiff, awkward, and utterly strange. She wanted to pull everything off and put the slave’s long shirt back on, but reminded herself of Kassite’s advice: “Imitate until you mutate!”

  The men loaded two of the horses with piles of fine leather hides. The remaining six horses were fitted with waterskins, as well as baskets of dates, figs, and carobs for the journey.

  Soosie sniffed her leather armor, rocked his head, and pulled his lips back in a toothy grin. She tried to mount the horse, but her new leather boot slipped out of the stirrup and she fell to the ground, flat on her back. Patrees hurried over to help her, but Deborah quickly got back on her feet, grabbed the saddle horn, and got on the horse, her face burning, which she hoped wasn’t noticeable in the dark.

  Antippet held the gate open while Kassite led the way out. Deborah followed him up the path to the main road. The others rode two to a horse, followed by the two packhorses with the leathers. A crescent moon illuminated their way.

  Kassite paused at the top of the path and turned his horse around while the rest of them gathered around him. Deborah brought her horse next to his. Below them, the tannery was lit by a few torches, which had been left burning. The river was black, the opposite bank invisible.

  “Eighteen years,” Kassite said. “I have built the biggest tannery in the land, and now it is dead.”

  “Maybe not,” she said. “Orran can buy new slaves and restart production.”

  He didn’t seem to hear what she said. He turned his horse and headed down the Sea Highway, away from Aphek. She prodded Soosie and caught up with Kassite. “Do you know the way?”

  He turned his head in her direction. “Did you say something?”

  “Yes. I was asking—”

  “My hearing is not good at night,” he said. “You want to know the plan, is that it?”

  “Yes.” She wondered why his hearing was impacted by the time of day, or night.

  “Over the years,” he said, “I have spoken with many travelers. This road passes through no village or town for a while, only isolated homesteads inhabited by Manasseh tribesmen, who would not bother an armed group of riders like us. But we should not cross into the territory of the Hebrew tribe of Dan, whose men favor thievery and skirmish over toiling the land. We will take another road, about five hours from here, near the ruins of a village, and head east, back to the Samariah Hills. If we follow it for a day, we will reach Bethel. Then we’ll ride north to Emanuel, coming from the south, as if we had traveled all the way from Edom. That is the plan.”

  Deborah wished he would say more. What was the rest of his plan? What would happen when they reached Emanuel? How did he plan to obtain Sallan’s freedom from Judge Zifron and get away from Emanuel without falling prey to Seesya and his soldiers? Was he going to buy Sallan’s freedom? The price would be huge, considering Sallan’s essential role in the basket factory.

  The thought of seeing Seesya again made her shudder. It was unthinkable. Rather than enter Emanuel, she would hide in the hills while Kassite somehow managed to get Sallan out. Would staying away from Emanuel constitute a breach of her oath to Sallan? She didn’t think so, because she had caused Kassite to go to free Sallan. In fact, her presence in Emanuel might destroy any chance of liberating Sallan, no matter what Kassite’s plan was.

  They kept going at a steady trot for several hours, stopping briefly to drink and tighten the ropes that held the leathers to the packhorses. The land was thick with trees and bushes wherever a farmer’s plow had not passed. The homesteads along the way were dark and quiet, except for an occasional dog barking.

  With first light, they saw the charred remnants of a village near the road. Where vibrant life had once flourished, there was nothing but ruins now. Deborah noticed the round wall of a well, but when she rode over and glanced inside, it was filled with rocks.

  They turned off the Sea Highway onto a smaller road, heading toward the sliver of sun that peeked out over the rocky ridges. During the morning, the road took them across the plains and into the foothills. It narrowed, forcing them to ride single file as they climbed the western face of the Samariah Hills. The vegetation grew sparser, the breeze died off, and the sun beat down on them with growing ferocity. The horses slowed down, their heads hanging low to the ground, but Kassite kept going. Every time the meandering road crested a vantage point, he shielded his eyes and peered at the plains below, where any pursuers would be visible.

  When the sun reached its apex, the heat of the day weighed down on them heavily. One of the packhorses stumbled and almost fell. Kassite relented and led the group off the road to a shaded crevice.

  The Edomite slaves gave the horses water while Kassite’s servants put out bowls of figs, dates, and chunks of bread. After eating, Kassite lay down in the shade and closed his eyes. The others did the same. Soon, they were snoring.

  Deborah, however, could not rest. Unlike Kassite, she wasn’t worried about Orran’s soldiers—not yet anyway. Her mind was plagued by what was coming next. She imagined reaching Emanuel the next day, facing the stone walls and armed sentries. Was Tamar’s body still hanging from the Weeping Tree? It would be impossible to see her beloved sister’s remains and not burst into tears, which could lead to exposure and humiliation, or even death. Would Kassite agree to let her hide in the hills while he and the others entered Emanuel to free Sallan?

  Deborah imagined herself arriving in Judge Zifron’s courtyard, dressed in a soldier’s armor, boots, and helmet, with her short hair and calloused hands. Her appearance had changed, but how long would it take for someone to recognize her as the girl they had once known? And if they caught her, what would she say? That she was no longer that girl, that she was halfway to becoming a young man? Was there any doubt how they would react? All of them—Seesya and his soldiers, Judge Zifron and his younger sons and wives, even the priest, Obadiah of Levi—would look at her as if she had gone completely mad. They would laugh at her, lock her up, and determine her punishment as befitting a wife who had struck her husband and run away.

  Unable to sit still any longer, Deborah walked over and fed Soosie a few carrots. She found the sound of his chewing and the smell of dust and sweat that came from him strangely soothing. There was no use letting her fears overwhelm her. Rather, she had to find a way to survive the next two days. How would Kassite manage to obtain Sallan’s freedom? She had to convince him to forgo any direct approach. They would camp out of town and send one of the Edomite slaves into Emanuel with instructions to find Sallan and smuggle him out, and they would gallop as far south as possible before the alarm was raised. It was a crude plan, and she expected Kassite to ask many questions, but did he have a better plan? How could he, having never visited Emanuel, met Judge Zifron, or faced the wretched Seesya?

  The sound of distant horses made her pause and listen.

  The riders were getting closer fast. She guessed there were at least twenty horses, maybe more.

  She ran to Kassite and shook his shoulder. “Men are coming. Maybe soldiers!”

  Within seconds, everyone was up. They pulled the horses deeper into the crevice, out of s
ight from the road.

  The drumming of hooves grew louder.

  Kassite held on to a boulder as if he were about to faint. The others huddled close together, pale with terror.

  Deborah took a deep breath, forced a smile onto her face, and untied the sling from around her waist. She signaled to the Edomite slaves to get their slings out, as well. She knew that their only chance against real soldiers would be a surprise attack with a barrage of stones. If it came to swords, they were as good as dead.

  She collected a fist-sized stone from the ground, fitted it into the pouch, and glanced to make sure the men did the same.

  Staying close against the side of the crevice, she advanced toward the road. Behind her, the men readied their slings.

  The riders came downhill fast and passed from right to left in front of the narrow crevice, raising a cloud of dust. They concentrated on the narrow, rock-strewn trail, and none of them noticed Deborah and the men. Behind the riders, tied in a long chain, horses and donkeys kept up despite being loaded with goods. They continued down the meandering road, the sound of their hooves fading away.

  Kassite mounted his horse and advanced toward the road.

  “They weren’t soldiers.” Deborah tied the sling back around her waist. “I think they were marauders on the way back from raiding a village in the hills.”

  “How could you tell?”

  “I saw blood on their shirts and spears. A raid would also explain the additional animals and packages of goods.”

  “You are observant. That is good.” He paused, thinking. “Did they carry a flag?”

  “Yes. It was light blue.”

  Kassite stared down at her from the horse. “And?”

  “It was hard to see,” Deborah said. “I think there was a drawing of a snake on it.”