Deborah Calling

by Avraham Azrieli

  Further south along the foothills, they stayed away from the main road, which ran near the river. When night came, they set up camp across the valley from Jericho, which lit up with torches and cooking fires. Whiffs of roasting meat and sounds of playing music drifted over to their camp.

  Kassite and Sallan sat by a small fire, conversing quietly. Sallan’s servants went to sleep, pressed against each other under a blanket. The other men finished taking care of the horses and gathered on a heap of rocks near the camp, chewing on carobs and gazing at the city. Deborah asked Patrees to stand watch and went to sleep.

  During the night, Deborah woke up and noticed that the men were gone. She peered into the darkness in the direction of the city, where the music and singing continued, but there was no sign of the men. She was about to wake Sallan and Kassite up, but decided not to, reluctant to make them think that she was anxious.

  Checking on the horses, Deborah found that none were missing. She patted Soosie. “You’ll have to stand watch,” she said. “I’m too tired to stay up.”

  Soosie licked her face.

  Deborah laughed, ruffling the plume of hair between his ears. “I wonder if you really understand what I’m saying.”

  Soosie’s head went up and down, and she laughed again and kissed his nose. “Good night,” she said. “Wake me up if bad people or nasty animals come by.”

  When she woke up, the sun had already cleared the Gilead Mountains in the east, and the Edomite men were still missing. Sallan’s servants were up, and a pot of water was boiling on a small fire.

  The view was magnificent, with Jericho sitting in the lap of a green valley, surrounded by thousands of palm trees. A wispy fog lay over the valley like a translucent silver blanket. To the right she could see the northern edge of the Sea of Salt and, beyond it, a sharp peak above the surrounding mountains. Remembering the stories her father had told her, Deborah guessed it was Mount Nebo, where Moses had climbed to see the land of Canaan, which he would never enter.

  When Sallan and Kassite woke up, she told them about the men’s disappearance.

  “They’ll be back,” Sallan said. “Drunk and blissful, but no damage that sleep won’t fix.”

  “It will delay us a whole day,” Kassite said.

  He took out the jar of olive paste and applied some to Deborah’s wounds, which had been healing rapidly, as well as Sallan’s hand and the boy’s ears, which he wrapped with clean rags.

  The men started coming back in the afternoon. They appeared one by one, intoxicated and unkempt, sporting foolish grins and bruises from scuffles they had already forgotten, and went to sleep.

  Sallan and Kassite rode into Jericho in the afternoon. They returned later with sacks of fruit, dried meat, and jugs of wine, as well as several full waterskins.

  After dark, with everyone already asleep, Deborah sat on a rock and watched Jericho’s many lights, blinking in the night like fireflies. When she could no longer keep her eyes open, she woke Antippet up and told him to stand watch.

  Chapter 25

  They were flying again, Barac’s arm around her, just as it had been before the giant black crow poked its beak into her back. The pain was much duller now, the crow was gone, and the sun was shining again. They flew in a circle over Jericho. From above, the countless canopies of palm trees looked like green flowers in full bloom. She pointed at their campsite, a cluster of sleeping men and horses near the foothills. Barac smiled, his teeth glistening against his dark skin, his black curls fluttering in the wind.

  The eagle turned south and flew along the Jordan River, and then bore right to follow the white-encrusted western shore of the Sea of Salt. The arid cliffs of the Judean Mountain towered on the right. Up ahead, a green patch appeared on the shore. As they flew closer, she could see a stream flowing from the foot of the cliffs on the right, across a narrow strip of land, to the opaque water of the Sea of Salt on the left. Wild goats and antelopes grazed on a patch of grass near the stream. She guessed it was Ein Gedi and leaned forward to direct the eagle to fly lower. She wanted to check out the best spot for an ambush and search for the cave where Miriam and her fellow lepers might be staying, but before reaching Ein Gedi, the eagle banked to the left, swerved over the Sea of Salt, and headed back north toward Jericho. Deborah leaned on the eagle’s neck to force a turn back toward Ein Gedi, but the eagle continued flying north. As they passed Jericho, the eagle swerved again, dove toward their campsite at the edge of the valley, and flipped over, tossing the two of them off. She tried to hold on to Barac, but he wasn’t there anymore, and she plummeted through the air, her stomach rising to her throat. The campsite below grew larger, but everyone kept sleeping soundly, except for her spot, where her blanket was crumpled. A second before she hit the ground, Deborah shut her eyes tightly, expecting a terrible blast of pain, but there was no pain, only a sudden silence as the rushing wind vanished. She opened her eyes and found the blanket covering her, the sack resting under her head, and the sun rising on a new day.

  Deborah sat up and searched the sky for the eagle and Barac, while her mind sluggishly comprehended that what she had experienced was yet another dream. What did it mean? Was it a preview of the road ahead, preparing her for a safe journey, or a warning not to go to Ein Gedi? Did the eagle know the future, or was it a creation of her mind? And why was Barac on the eagle? Did she bring him into her dream because she was still a foolish girl inside, as Kassite had suggested? No! Barac was there to test her resolve, and she was determined to pass this test and any other test put to her by anyone—the eagle, Kassite, or Sallan. Even if Barac somehow returned from the dead and showed up in this camp right now, she would greet him warmly, but send him away!

  Angry with herself, Deborah got up, put on her boots, and clapped her hands at the sleeping Edomite men. “Get up! Time to go!”

  They packed up and rode off quickly to beat the heat, following the base of the Samariah Hills to avoid Jericho and the many homesteads along the Jordan River. The Sea of Salt appeared ahead before noon, and as they approached the shore, they found the road. Deep holes, patches of sand, and flood-swept sections told of little use. Bent over to hide her face from the oppressive sun, Deborah grew even more remorseful over telling the lepers to go to Ein Gedi after they had saved her life in Shiloh and provided her safe passage to Aphek.

  The group reached the foothills of the Judean Mountains in the midafternoon and rested in the shade of the towering cliffs. The road veered south, and they followed it in the narrowing strip of level ground between the cliffs on the right and the white-encrusted shore on the left, which she remembered from her dream. The flat water of the Sea of Salt stretched all the way to the Moab Mountains on the opposite side. The scorching heat weighed down on the men and the horses, whose hooves stirred up a cloud of dust that traveled with them.

  By early evening, they reached a dry stream that intersected the road with a deep, rocky depression. Beside the road was a pile of charcoal and a few bones from a roasted animal, as well as date pits, apple cores, and lemons skins. The trash seemed recent, not more than a day or two old. Deborah wondered whether Orran’s soldiers had camped here and were now somewhere ahead already, searching for Kassite along the road south. Could they have gotten here so quickly? And if they had, would they come back the same way, or turn west after reaching the border of Edom and ride to Beersheba and north along the main trade route? It was impossible to guess. She would have to plan the ambush to work in either direction and set up lookouts high on the cliffs to watch for the soldiers.

  The heat left them with little appetite, and the evening meal consisted of dry fruit, cheese, and water with lemon. Kassite again applied his medicinal paste to Deborah’s back, which wasn’t hurting any longer, and treated Sallan’s hand and the boy-servant’s ears, which had finally stopped bleeding.

  Deborah took first watch and instructed Antippet, Patrees, and the others about the rest of the night. Everyone went to sleep. She gazed at the stars, which seemed haz
y in the dark sky. The night was completely quiet, not a bird chirping or a coyote howling. She hoped the eagle would stay away, too.

  When her watch was over, she slept without dreams.

  Waking up at dawn, Deborah got everyone going. She was eager to find Miriam and apologize for sending her and the other lepers to this terrible, furnace-like place.

  The day grew very hot almost from the start. The horses paced slowly, and the men were quiet. Deborah took the lead, setting a steady pace. Her imagination conjured various possibilities about the way Ein Gedi would look and how the topography would provide hiding places for each of the Edomite men for the ambush.

  Sallan brought his horse in line with Soosie. “For me,” he said, “this heat feels like home. How are you managing?”

  Deborah fanned her face with her hand. “It’s like an oven.”

  “Don’t worry. We’ll reach Ein Gedi before nightfall, wash up in the cool spring, and rest.”

  “It sounds too good to be true.”

  “We must prepare, though. Our pursuers might be upon us in a day or two.”

  “I’ll make sure we’re ready.” She spoke with more confidence than she felt.

  “What’s your plan?”

  Deborah was simultaneously flattered and intimidated by his assumption that she had a plan. She had neither the experience nor the skills to lead a fight like this. Was Sallan testing her? Her answer must be proactive, even-tempered, and logical.

  “As soon as we arrive,” Deborah said, “I’ll look around, see what’s possible, and discuss it with you and Kassite.”

  “What will you look for?”

  She kept her voice calm. “I’ll need hiding places for the men—bushes, boulders, or depressions in the ground where they’ll wait until the right time to attack. If such hiding places aren’t available, we’ll dig holes big enough to hide in.”

  “Then what?”

  “I’ll send two men to climb up to high vantage points to watch the road in both directions. Orran’s soldiers might show up within hours, a day, or even longer. It doesn’t matter. While we wait, I’ll continue to practice with the men, shooting targets with the slings and getting used to the spears—although I hope the slings will end the confrontation quickly and chase the soldiers away.”

  “Scattering them would win the battle,” Sallan said, “but not the war. What if they regroup and come back to fight?”

  “That’s possible. We’ll have to prepare—”

  “Do you realize they’re trained soldiers?” His voice trembled, and he took a deep breath. “Our only advantage is the initial surprise. Once that’s over, we’re nothing but sheep for the slaughter!”

  Deborah was taken aback by his overt anxiety, in contrast to the masculine, even-tempered logic she was striving for. What more could she do? A memory came to her of the day she had hit a boulder across the river with the sling by imagining that the boulder was the head of the condescending tall boy. Kassite had guessed it and said, “When circumstances force a choice between getting killed and becoming a killer, most men fall apart, beg for their lives, or start weeping like children, whereas the truly brave harden up with firm resolve, total focus, and icy determination to kill.”

  “Scattering them,” Sallan repeated, “will not be enough. They’ll come back and kill us!”

  Deborah wanted to answer him and satisfy his doubts, but words wouldn’t come to her. Had Kassite been right that she belonged in the truly brave category—that she could summon the icy determination to kill? At the time, she had disagreed with him. Shooting her sling at a target while imagining it to be her opponent wasn’t the same as actually killing a living, breathing man in violation of Yahweh’s sixth commandment. There was no way she could do such a thing.

  “They won’t come back,” she said. “We’ll scare them so badly that they’ll run off and keep running all the way back to the land of Manasseh without stopping.”

  Sallan sighed and slowed down his horse to rejoin Kassite.

  Alone in the lead, Deborah heard them talking behind her, but couldn’t make out the words. Was Sallan telling Kassite that she was a naive girl who was about to lead them to their demise?

  They stopped only once, to rest under a solitary, half-dead tree. Their waterskins were nearly empty. There were no other travelers on the road, only a few remnants of food and the occasional mound of horse manure.

  Riding through the afternoon tested the horses’ resilience, and they were nearly drained by the extreme heat when Ein Gedi appeared in the distance—a solitary patch of greenery in an otherwise desolate coastline. Drawing closer, they saw a few trees and a couple of date palms, as well as bushes that lined a stream from the foot of the cliffs across the strip of level ground to the edge of the flat sea.

  Revived by the sight of their destination, Deborah sat straight, as high as she could, to see over Soosie’s head, but could spot no shacks or tents.

  They came upon a tree laden with ripe plums. Patrees got off his horse, pulled a plum off a branch, and bit into it. Red juice dripped down his chin. He grinned and took another bite. The others followed his example, tearing off fruit and gobbling it. Patrees picked a few for Kassite, Sallan, and Deborah, who remained on their horses.

  Leaving the others behind, Deborah approached the stream while chewing on the plum. The fleshy fruit was warm after a day in the sun, but it was sweet, juicy, and wonderful.

  The creek was about ten steps wide and knee-deep in the middle. The bottom was visible in the clear water, strewn with stones, made round and smooth by the constant flow. She dismounted Soosie and let him drink.

  Kneeling beside the horse, Deborah scooped water into her hands. It was cold and fresh. She drank some and splashed her face, which felt wonderful. She took off the leather helmet, filled it with water, and put it back on. The sudden coldness shocked her, and she laughed. Soosie raised his head from the water, turned to her, and licked her cheek.

  Deborah reached into the water and picked up a stone. It looked like a large chicken egg. She fitted it in the pouch of her sling. It was perfect. She turned back, rotated the sling, and let the stone fly. It hit the trunk of the plum tree and startled the Edomite men, who by now had had their fill of the plums and were tossing pits at each other.

  She beckoned them over and showed them the stones. “Start collecting a stockpile of stones. Make sure they’re the correct size for your slings.”

  They didn’t argue, but the sight of running water was too much for them. They pulled off their belts, armor and boots and dropped into the stream, lying flat on their backs in the shallow water, hooting and splashing like little boys.

  Sallan and Kassite also dismounted and began to strip.

  Getting back on Soosie, Deborah crossed the line of bushes to the other side of the creek. Out in the open, she could see that the stream flowed out of a canyon, which cut through the steep face of the cliffs into the Judean Mountains. Several lean-to wooden shacks were built on a ledge along the side of the canyon. Clothes had been hung to dry on lines near the shacks, several goats and sheep milled about in crude enclosures, and a stone oven emitted a thin column of smoke. The dwellers probably stayed indoors because of the heat, but she wondered why they didn’t come out to greet the men bathing in the stream so noisily.

  South of the stream, the ground was divided into small squares, tilled, and planted with vegetables and barley. Beyond the cultivated area, the road continued south along the shore. Deborah wished they could ride on, rather than dig in for a confrontation with trained soldiers, but that wasn’t a safe option, not yet.

  Soosie neighed and turned around to go back to the stream.

  “We’ll go back to the water soon.” She pulled the reins to bring him back around. “I want to find Miriam.”

  Further down from the mouth of the canyon, Deborah noticed a cave in the face of the cliff, about two stories above the ground. She didn’t see a stepladder or a rope for climbing and assumed it couldn’t be the c
ave where the lepers resided. But then she saw something move in the dark cave. Was it a bird, or an animal? Shielding her eyes from the sun, Deborah squinted, trying to see better, but the interior of the cave was completely dark.

  Behind her, the Edomite men hollered and splashed, and even Sallan could be heard laughing.

  Deborah urged Soosie toward the cave. The horse took a few steps and stopped, refusing to go further. They were still fifty or sixty steps away. She leaned forward and patted his neck.

  “You’ll get more water soon,” she said, tapping her heels inward to get him moving again. “Go on.”

  Soosie whinnied.

  A woman appeared in the mouth of the cave. She was dressed in black from head to toe, her face was covered, and her hands were swaddled in rags.

  Deborah waved. “Miriam? Is that you?”

  The woman pulled the sheer cloth from her face.

  Flooded with relief, Deborah recognized her. Miriam was alive!

  “It’s me.” Deborah pulled off her helmet. “I’m sorry about telling you to come here.”

  Miriam waved her hand as if she meant to shoo Deborah away.

  Deborah waved back. “I’m so happy that I found—”

  “Run away,” Miriam shouted. “Run, Deborah! Run!”

  A pale face, framed by black hair, emerged from the darkness of the cave behind Miriam, and a second later the point of a sword came out her chest, followed by a jet of blood. Miriam fell forward, dropping to the ground below, and landed face down, the sword hilt protruding from her back, shining like polished silver.

  The pale face came into the sunlight. It was Seesya, bare-chested and grinning.

  His appearance paralyzed Deborah. It was impossible. He was in Emanuel, bedridden after fifty lashes. He couldn’t be here. Was she dreaming?

  “Hello, wife,” he yelled. “And goodbye, wife!”

  The spear in his right hand was made of dark wood and fixed with a sharp flinthead. He leaned back, half-turning his shoulders, and hurled the spear at her. It flew in a perfect arc, its pointy head swiveling like a screw. She knew without a doubt that his aim was true and that the breath she was taking now would be her last, cut short by the spear that was about to strike her chest, pierce her heart, and kill her. There was nothing she could do. In that slow-moving instant, Deborah resigned herself to this devastating reversal of fortune, the end of her life, and the silencing of her True Calling—she would never deliver Yahweh’s message to the Hebrews at Palm Homestead. She saw the faces of her parents, of Tamar, Barac, and Zariz, whose soft brown eyes squinted with a smile.