Deborah Calling

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Deborah Calling Page 13

by Avraham Azrieli


  “Only what I’ve said.” Sallan shrugged. “To see Edom as a free man before I die and let the boys go free there.”

  Deborah was in awe of their ability to keep up this hostile and deceitful exchange without once showing their true feelings for each other.

  Kassite turned to the judge. “Will you agree, provided that the secret of the Reinforcing Liquid is revealed in full, to grant freedom to this old slave and his two boy-servants and allow them to return home to Edom unmolested?”

  “I agree,” Judge Zifron said. “You have my word.”

  Seesya hissed, but stopped when his father gave him a sharp glare.

  Kassite made Sahir kneel before Qoz and take an oath of secrecy.

  Rising from his chair with difficulty, Sallan walked beside Sahir and told him how to make the Reinforcing Liquid. Sahir repeated each ingredient and every step, committing them to memory. Kassite went over and listened in. This went on for a while, with Sallan testing Sahir several times.

  When it was over, Kassite rejoined Judge Zifron. “It is done,” he said. “They will now go into the factory and practice making the Reinforcing Liquid together and review all the other aspects of making the baskets so that Sahir will be most helpful to your son Babatorr in all other respects of managing the factory.”

  Judge Zifron clapped. “Very good!”

  “Will you now announce that you set these three free? I will take responsibility for them, as a favor to you, until we reach Edom.”

  The judge pointed at the three of them. “I hereby grant Sallan complete and irrevocable freedom and safe passage, together with his two boy-servants. Go back to Edom, and may the gods punish you for your insubordination.”

  Deborah was simultaneously weak with relief and elated with joy. By uttering these words, Judge Zifron had unknowingly brought about the fulfillment of her oath to help Sallan win his freedom. The price had been stiff, with Sallan’s finger and the boy’s mutilated ears, but the final result was nothing short of a miracle. She was in awe of Kassite’s clever maneuvering and the straight face he had kept while diverging from the truth left and right, masking his love for Sallan at the height of Seesya’s violence, when the risk of fatal and total loss had seemed certain. Even she, who knew Kassite’s true feelings for Sallan, had not seen a trace of distress, concern, or outrage behind Kassite’s facade of cool bemusement, as befitting a wealthy nobleman.

  Sallan, his two boy-servants, and the Edomite slave Sahir bowed before the judge and went into the basket factory.

  “A tiresome bunch, these slaves.” Kassite sat down and exhaled. “But the result is satisfactory, is it not?”

  “Excellent.” Judge Zifron rubbed his hands. “How can I thank you?”

  “May I suggest generous discounts on the baskets and food commodities I will be ordering?”

  They laughed while Seesya got up and left. He joined his soldiers, who sat on the ground around plates of food and ate with their hands.

  That night, after the long meal had ended, Sallan and the two boys came to the guest quarters. The boys each carried a heavy sack while supporting Sallan, who was swaddled in his tiger skin even though the night was warm. He was no longer the powerful foreman of the basket factory. All his privileges and personal effects had been taken away. He was now a destitute old man, but he was free.

  Patrees helped the injured boy sit down and gave him water, while Kassite invited Sallan into the inner room. Deborah took off her leather helmet, unbuckled the short sword, and followed them. She paused at the doorway, stunned at what she saw.

  Kassite was on his knees, holding Sallan’s hand to his lips.

  As shocked as she was, Deborah had the presence of mind to shut the door behind her before the Edomite men witnessed this inexplicable sight—Master kneeling before the slave whose freedom he had just secured.

  Sallan helped Kassite up, and the two old men fell into each other’s arms, embracing for a long time. Deborah wasn’t surprised by the expression of affection, having heard from Kassite about his love for the friend he had thought was dead. But still, why had he—the Elixirist!—knelt before Sallan?

  Sniffling, Sallan turned to Deborah. “Thank you for keeping your promise. I owe you everything.”

  “And I owe you this.” Deborah pulled the tiger tail from her sack and handed it to him.

  Sallan laughed and pressed it to his face.

  “And this, too.” Deborah bent her arms to show him the new muscles. “Kassite has already given me two doses of the Male Elixir. Only one more, and my transformation will be complete.”

  “Impressive results for such a short time.” Sallan touched her biceps. “You look completely different, especially with all your beautiful hair gone.”

  “Beautiful?” Deborah scoffed. “It used to look like an orange tree before the picking.”

  “And that’s not a thing of beauty?”

  “To be a man, I’d give up much more than my hair.”

  Kassite chuckled. “She is a motivated girl, is she not? At first, I expected her to give up quickly, but she stuck with it and worked harder than anyone I have ever seen. In two months she has become more of a man than any of them.” He gestured at the door to the other room, where the Edomite men were getting ready for the night.

  Deborah blushed. “When you pursue your True Calling, God provides the shortcuts.”

  “Where was your god today?” Kassite took off his hat and passed his fingers through his white hair, which was sodden with sweat. “I have not played a tougher game in my entire long life.”

  “You were incredible.” Sallan hugged him again. “Cool and aloof, like a real prince of Edom.”

  “Am I not a prince?”

  “You are! I almost burst out laughing when Seesya guaranteed that he’d make me talk before I died, and then—what did you say to the judge? Wait, I remember!” Sallan closed his eyes, quoting from memory: “If your son can guarantee such a thing, then he must be in possession of the divine powers of the Hebrew god. As a mere human—”

  Kassite joined him, and together they chorused, “—who am I to disagree?”

  They laughed heartily.

  “That’s when I thought that we’d won,” Sallan said. “The judge was sending me back upstairs for the night, and I had the potion ready.”

  “I counted on that,” Kassite said.

  Deborah looked at him. “What potion?”

  “The Death Elixir.”

  “Death?”

  “Nearly,” Sallan said. “It makes the body fall into a sleep so deep that it’s impossible to detect any breathing or heartbeat. I was going to drink it before dawn and appear dead to all in the morning. Kassite would find a way to get hold of my corpse, and once out of Emanuel, revive me.”

  “What about your illness?” She was struggling to understand. “Is it the result of another clever elixir? The Sickness Elixir?”

  The two men looked at each other and laughed again.

  “Limestone powder in water,” Sallan said. “The simplest potion of all, though it gives you an awful nausea.”

  “You’ve poisoned yourself with limestone?” She covered her mouth. “For how long?”

  “I started taking small quantities as soon as you left in order to grow the illness slowly and prevent suspicion. That way, by the time you returned with Kassite, even Seesya wouldn’t suspect trickery.”

  “How could you be certain that I would return with Kassite?”

  “I didn’t know for sure, but in my heart I sensed the strength of your resolve and knew that you wouldn’t give up until you found the Elixirist and enlisted his help. My only enemy was time, which always carries the possibility of real death.”

  She grabbed his arm, alarmed. “Are you near dying?”

  “We’re all dying,” Sallan said. “From the moment of birth, death is the most certain future event. For me, death was an enemy not because it might take me, but because it might take you, or him.” He looked at Kassite. “That was my
greatest fear.”

  Deborah didn’t let go of his arm. “How do you feel? Are you in pain? Are you dizzy?”

  “Yes,” Sallan said. “I’m in pain, I feel dizzy, and I’m probably near death, but it’s all under control.”

  She looked at Kassite. “Is he losing his mind?”

  “Hardly,” Kassite said. “Do you not remember our discussion of strategy?”

  Deborah thought about the moments right after the band of Dan tribesmen had ridden by with their loot and she had pressured Kassite about his plans for rescuing Sallan. “I remember your words exactly,” she said. “‘Knowing Sallan, a strategy has already been set in motion, ready for us to pick up and run with. My old friend is a master of the long game.’”

  “You said that?” Sallan kissed Kassite on both cheeks. “You know me better than any man!”

  Kassite beamed.

  “Wait a minute,” Deborah said. “Poisoning yourself until you almost die—that’s the long game?”

  “That’s part of it,” Sallan explained. “I also cut down on food in order to lose a lot of weight, dyed my hair white, and made my skin dry and brittle by rubbing it with sand. When a man looks deathly ill, his eventual death is the natural result. That was the long game, and it would have worked. Judge Zifron already allowed me to retire for the night, but then Seesya came up with the idea to torture my servant. That was the weakness in my plan. Seesya’s inventive cruelty exceeded my expectations.”

  “But you could have died,” Deborah said. “For real!”

  “The higher the risks, the greater the rewards. But don’t worry. As I induced the illness, so will I induce a recovery.”

  “How can you be so sure? What if the damage to your body is permanent?”

  “What choice did I have? I had to prepare, give my dear friend something to work with.” Sallan patted Kassite’s back. “And what a show you managed to put on. Every move they made, you were ready with a countermove—like a swordfight of the minds!”

  “It’s all a show for you?” Deborah looked from one to the other in disbelief. “A game?”

  “A game, yes,” Sallan said, “but not in the sense of frivolous fun, obviously. It was a deadly game of minds, and we had to keep our opponents ignorant of our true goal.”

  “Beautifully put,” Kassite said.

  “Beautiful?” Deborah struggled to keep her voice down. “Taking poison? Losing fingers and ears?”

  “Think of our position,” Kassite said. “Our opponents held all the power, whereas we were weak and on their territory. There was no price for Sallan’s freedom, because Judge Zifron would never have let go of the engine of his wealth. Therefore, the game required that we prevent them from realizing our true goal of freeing Sallan. Faking death would have been ideal, but once that option became unavailable, we had to come up with a different strategy. We created a false prize—the Reinforcing Liquid, coupled with a fake crisis—Sallan’s fatal illness.”

  “Unfortunately,” Sallan said, “in a conflict with powerful opponents, those with power always try to win through brutality first, and you have to let them use force and spill your blood.” He held up his bandaged hand with the missing pinky. “But when they realize that their might isn’t enough to bring them victory, the door opens for a compromise. The key to success is to let your opponents win a fake prize, gain an empty conquest, and celebrate an illusory victory, while you win the real prize—in this case, my freedom.”

  “Do you see it now?” Kassite grinned. “We won, but the judge and his hothead son foolishly believed that victory was theirs. Brilliant, is it not?”

  “It would be more brilliant,” Deborah said, “if you hadn’t lost a finger and your servant hadn’t lost his ears.”

  Sallan’s smile faded. “A shackled man who desires freedom should expect to pay a heavy price.” He glanced at his bandaged hand. “It’s not as bad as losing a foot.”

  “Or your head, which the soldiers almost cut off at the gatehouse.”

  “That was close,” Sallan said. “But we pulled it off, didn’t we? We’re free!”

  “We are not free yet,” Kassite said. “That young man Seesya—he is pure menace.”

  “I’ll set a watch schedule,” Deborah said. “We’ll be ready for him if he comes.”

  “You’re guests here,” Sallan said. “Even Seesya wouldn’t dare to attack guests in his father’s house.”

  Deborah hoped he was right.

  “I’m already thinking of home,” Sallan said. “I can’t believe we’re going back to Edom tomorrow.”

  Kassite smiled. “It has been a long time.”

  “I was wondering,” Deborah said. “Aren’t you afraid?”

  “Afraid?” Kassite looked at her. “Afraid of what?”

  “Sallan told me how the king locked you up after you saved his kingdom, and you only managed to escape because you helped a deaf-mute guard to hear and speak again. What if the king finds out that you’re back?”

  The two men looked at each other.

  “That old king is dead,” Sallan finally answered. “A caravan from Edom stopped in Emanuel a few months ago. They told me that the old king, Esau the Eighteenth, had died, and his son, Esau the Nineteenth, died shortly afterward. The current king, Esau the Twentieth, is very young, which means that he hasn’t yet earned the confidence of his people or the fear of his enemies. If anything, the young king would celebrate the return of the Elixirist, whose role in driving away the Egyptians has become the stuff of legends.”

  Kassite nodded in agreement.

  The explanation satisfied Deborah. “By the way, do you know what happened to the guard? Was he punished for freeing you?”

  They glanced at each other and smiled.

  “It is a long story,” Kassite said. “I am too tired to discuss the past right now.”

  “Indeed,” Sallan said. “It’s time to think of the future.” He sniffed the tiger tail one more time, bunched it up, and pushed it into Deborah’s sack.

  She put her hand out to stop him. “What are you doing?”

  “It’s yours now. You’ve earned it.”

  “We will ride off at first light,” Kassite said. “I have already taken leave of Judge Zifron and told him that I would like to get some traveling done before the day’s heat forces us to take shelter. He is expecting our first orders for baskets and produce to arrive in a few weeks.”

  “He shouldn’t hold his breath,” Sallan said, and the two men laughed and laughed until they were bent over, leaning against one another, tears flowing down their cheeks.

  Chapter 19

  Deborah and the eight Edomite men took turns standing watch outside the guest quarters through the night. Except for the occasional servant or soldier going to the washroom and back to sleep, the night was uneventful. When the sky began to lighten up in the east, Deborah went to the firepit and collected soot, which she mixed with water and smeared on her face, neck, arms, and legs. As Kassite had said, her eyes were the only part she couldn’t disguise. Glancing around the courtyard, she saw no one. Soon she would leave this house, and the danger of being recognized would pass.

  Antippet and Patrees went to get the horses from the stable, including the two additional horses that Kassite had purchased from the judge—one for Sallan and the other for his boy-servants to share. The compound started to wake up, and slaves carried food supplies from the storage area to the kitchen to prepare the morning meal. Deborah and the Edomite men put on their leather armor and helmets, strapped on the short swords, and tied the slings to the belts. The spears and shields were secured to the saddles. When the sun peeked over the hilltops east of town, the group was mounted and ready to go.

  A few kitchen workers came out with packages of food for the road, which were accepted with smiles and gestures of gratitude. Kassite led the way across the courtyard, followed by Deborah, the Edomite men, and Sallan with his boys. One of Seesya’s soldiers unlocked the courtyard doors and stood aside. For Deborah, e
ager to leave this place, it was all happening too slowly.

  Someone tugged on her leg. Deborah’s first instinct was to look, but she willed herself to keep her eyes straight ahead. Whoever it was, though, didn’t give up. A hand reached up and grabbed Deborah’s arm.

  Squinting, Deborah looked down.

  It was Vardit. She held up a package of food.

  Deborah accepted the package and urged Soosie forward.

  “Good luck!” Following alongside, Vardit pulled Deborah’s hand and kissed it. “I’ll pray for you!”

  Out on the street, riding behind Kassite, Deborah exhaled with a slow, audible whistle. The shock that Vardit had indeed recognized her was mixed with regret that she couldn’t greet Vardit, who had been kind to her. Even that quick exchange could lead to disaster if Seesya found out that his mother had kissed the hand of one of the Edomite prince’s soldiers and said, “I’ll pray for you.”

  The houses along the street were coming to life. Doors opened, fires started in workshops, and goats came out to nibble on the shrubbery. Women swept their floors, cooked food, and tended their small vegetable gardens. Here and there, a baby cried, a dog barked, and a donkey brayed. The air was crisp, and a light breeze tilted the smoke columns above the chimneys.

  Kassite led the way down the main street of Emanuel. Deborah wished they could speed up, leave Emanuel, and put some distance between them and the murderous young man who, in the eyes of the world, was her husband. Seesya had made it plenty clear the night before that he didn’t like his father’s concessions. The gates, which she could see all the way down at the bottom of the hill, were wide open and inviting. Once they left town, Deborah intended to urge Kassite to get off the main road and travel into the hills, where tracking them would be harder.

  She glanced over her shoulder. No one was following them. In a moment, they would be out of Emanuel.

  Thinking of the journey ahead, Deborah wondered how long it would be before she could come back and fight for her inheritance. She had no family or friends other than this group of Edomite men. They were going home, but for her, Edom would be a foreign land, far away from everything she knew. Should she go with them? Did she have a choice? To win back Palm Homestead and fulfill her father’s vision of becoming Yahweh’s prophet, she must first become a man. For this, she had to stay with Kassite until he gave her the third and final dose of the Male Elixir, which would complete the process of her transformation.

 

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