by Gene Curtis
All three men were dressed in warm looking garments. The cloth looked unbleached, and it was certainly not dyed. Each had long, unkempt hair and unkempt beards. Even under the garments, it was obvious they were very muscular and they weren’t carrying weapons. She decided she was safe enough and went back to her body to try to get some sleep. Who knew how rested she’d need to be tomorrow, but as much as she tried, she couldn’t fall asleep.
When she opened her eyes, it was starting to get light outside. She pushed the tent flap intending to exit and saw the back of a man sitting with his back to the tent.
“Hello. I am known as Shimishon. It is my hope that you are presentable. If not, I shall wait.”
“I’ve got my clothes on if that’s what you mean. My name is LeOmi. I was hoping to meet you.”
He began turning around. “I am informed that you were brought here by my friend AlHufus. You are a Magi, no?”
“I am a student at The Seventh Mountain and Mr. Diefenderfer is my friend as well.”
“It is my pleasure to meet you LeOmi, friend of my friend. Will you break bread with me as an act of our coming friendship?”
“I’d love to since I didn’t have dinner last night.”
He began unrolling a bit of leather revealing a large flatbread. He held it up and said, “Father in heaven, bless this bread between the two of us. Let it fill our bellies and provide strength to our bodies for the trip back home.” He tore the bread in half and handed her the larger piece.
She took the bread, held it up and said, “Thank you Father that I may serve your will.” She tore the thickest part of the bread off and handed it back to him. “That others may share our bounty by the will of He who gave it.”
He smiled, “You are a true Magi.”
She smiled back and asked, “Would you care to share drink with me?”
“I have vowed to abstain from the vine. Water will be sufficient.” He grinned, “But if you have a Dr. Pepper, I am your friend for life.”
She produced three, “One is our sacrifice.”
After they ate he said, “You have need of something.”
“I am here by the order of my general. He has requested I ask you to hide something for him.”
“What is this thing?”
She produced the sword, the real one. “It is his will that it be kept out of the hands of Benrah.”
“To seek such a thing means this sword must be special.”
She held the sword up and let it fall to the ground. It buried itself up to the hilt.
“Indeed!”
“This sword is loaned to him by God. Its existence and location must be kept secret until it is needed to fight against Benrah.”
“Absolutely! It must. I don’t know if we will be able to hide and keep safe such a fabulous thing. Our ruler will have to decide.”
“I guessed that would be the case. When will I be able to see him?”
“I will present the request to him personally. I invite you to partake of our hospitality until a decision is made.” There was a lot of excitement in his voice.
“Thank you, I will.”
* * *
The Nazarite village was between two mountains about fifty miles to the south from where they had been. She looked around as they walked the area between buildings not much wider than an alley. Most of the structures looked like they’d been carved out of rows of solid stone. A few were cut into the stone of the north mountain itself. Behind the buildings to the south were raised gardens surrounded by knee-high boulders apparently arranged to contain the soil. A small stream meandered a little farther to the south. The ground itself was solid stone.
“I’ve never seen anything quite like this place. It’s rather interesting.”
“It has proven useful over the centuries. It is very defensible, we get sufficient water from the mountains and it provides a nice haven for our culture.”
“It seems like it would be a hard life.”
“We are a strong people and life here is simple. We have a saying, Yahavey Awsaw.”
“God provides?”
Shimishon smiled, “God provides all things.” He pointed to a large stone structure that looked like it contained three apartments. “This is Naomi’s house where you will be staying.”
“It’s quite a bit larger than the others.”
“Naomi is the great granddaughter of our ruler, Elimelech, who is descended from King David. So it is befitting of a princess. Also, this is where our guests, what few we have, stay.”
“I don’t want to inconvenience her. I can set up my tent down by the stream.”
“No inconvenience will be felt, indeed, it will probably be a welcome distraction for her from all the wedding preparations. She is betrothed to be married in little more than three weeks. She will be happy you are here.”
He walked up to the center opening which was covered from the inside by a heavy drape. “Naomi, we have a guest.”
The drape moved to the side revealing an Asian looking woman. Shimishon said, “Pei-Pei, this is LeOmi, our guest.” He said to LeOmi, “Pei-Pei is Naomi’s maid servant and she is very busy making wedding arrangements.”
Pei-Pei bowed and said, “Most honored sir, please enter with your guest and I will summon the lady.”
The first room was ornate. Thick tapestries covered the walls, tall urns stood in the corners and a plush carpet was on the floor. Sconces held Aladdin-style lamps, but they weren’t burning. The light in the room came from small holes in the walls near the very white ceiling. A pedestal stood near the center of the far wall with a large book open on the top of it.
Shimishon removed his sandals and placed them to the side by the door. She followed his lead. Next he sat on the floor and pulled a rag from his waist tie, slid a ceramic bowl she hadn’t noticed before in front of him and then used a nearby small urn to pour water into the bowl. He wetted his rag and motioned for her to sit.
He held his hand out, “Give me your feet.”
It felt very odd to have someone else wash her feet, almost too personal, a violation of her personal space. She didn’t like it, but Mr. Diefenderfer had warned her about their customs seeming strange. She felt like a child being cleaned up by a parent. The only thing she could think of that would be worse is for him to expect her to wash his feet.
He rinsed the rag and held it out to her.
She took the rag and held her hand out for his feet. “I thought this was a Christian ritual.”
“We are Christian. Why would you think otherwise?”
“I though Nazarites were Hebrew.”
“Nazarites are ones that have made certain vows to God. A religious association is not a requirement. Some people are Nazarites from birth like Sampson.”
“How do you know them?”
“The obvious thing is the hair; it has never been cut or combed. The person will be very strong of body and mind. They will have never consumed anything made from grapes or any meat considered unclean. These Nazarites are special; they are the ones God has chosen.”
She rinsed the rag and handed it back to him. He stood, took the bowl, dumped the water out the door, poured more water in the bowl and dumped that too.
A voice from behind her said, “Uncle, how good to see you. And this is our guest. Welcome to my humble home.”
LeOmi turned and saw the girl who owned the voice. She was young and dressed in many different colored sheer fabrics. She spun on one foot.
“What do you think?”
“No good for working in the garden. Perhaps the sheep will like it. It is very... colorful.”
“No silly, it is for the wedding.” She spun again trailing the veils from her arm.
“Well then, your husband should be well pleased, if he is a butterfly. Perhaps you are hoping he will change your name to Salome.”
“You are just being mean.”
“You asked what I thought. Perhaps you should consider something more traditional if you wish to please
him. Maybe something in white?”
“White is so blah.”
“It is the color of purity. Oh, I see, you want him to think you less than pure. Is that it?”
“I cannot help what he thinks, but I do not want to marry him now or ever.”
“You will dishonor your father and your family name. Enough of this, we have a guest.”
Naomi called, “Pei-Pei, our guest needs to be shown her room.”
After a bit of commotion in the adjacent room, a little louder than it probably should have been, Pei-Pei appeared in the door. “Pleasant guest, please come.”
She followed the maid to the guestroom. It was very small, not much bigger than a closet. The rug on the floor was thick and there was a stack of folded blankets in one corner. In another corner sat a large bowl and a pitcher of water, no washcloth. She didn’t have a rag to use for cleaning, but she did have some wet wipes in her rescue kit. She used those to clean up.
The room was warm and that didn’t help the fact that she was sleepy. She lay down and slept on her side. She didn’t need any blankets.
She was awakened later by Shimishon’s voice. “My friend, it is time to wake.”
She sat up and said, “I’m awake.” She stretched and stood. She pushed the door drape to the side. Shimishon was there standing with his back to the door.
“Good morning,” she said.
“I am wishing you a good morning as well, only it is afternoon. You will need to make dirt, yes?”
Make dirt? What an odd way to put it. “Um, yes please. Where are your facilities?”
He chuckled, “Facilities? That is funny. Come, I will show you.”
She followed him out of the house. A fifteen-minute walk later, they were on the edge of a raised field of waist high grass.
“Our facilities for females are here,” he smiled. “The grass is for our flocks. We have been making dirt here for centuries. The grass grows very well. If you need a place to sit, there is a chair by that rock.” He pointed. “Please return it if you use it.” He turned and started walking away. “I will meet you back in the village.”
* * *
Shimishon was walking back to the main street from a different direction when she arrived. He approached her and said, “It is time for our meal and then we will have an audience with Elimelech.” He pointed to the side of her, toward one of the openings in the base of the mountain as he walked past.
The cavern was large with a flat floor. Large rugs were spread about. People were sitting cross-legged on some of them eating with their fingers from bowls. Off to the left were several vats sitting amid thick blankets. There were no fires.
“We are a bit late. The choices may be sparse.” He handed her a bowl shaped-plate from a stand near the door. He showed her a scooping motion with his plate and pointed toward the vats.
The first vat contained what looked like large, thin pancakes. “Injera, put a few on your plate like this.” He laid a few on his plate covering most of the surface. She did the same.
The next vat was empty except for a ladle. “The eggs are popular. I thought they might be gone.”
The next vat contained a dark tan paste. “Chickpea wat.” He used the ladle to put a large dollop on one of his pieces of injera.
They got small portions from the remaining vats and chose a rug to sit on. Shimishon held his plate up and looked at her. She did the same.
He spoke in Hebrew, “Thank you Father, please bless this to our nourishment that we may do your will.”
A woman walked up, set a carafe down between them and then placed a couple of small stone cups beside the carafe.
“You like coffee, yes?”
“I drink it on occasion.”
“Ethiopian coffee is very good. You will like it. One point of custom you may not know. Using your left hand to eat, even a little, will mark you as unclean and you will be shunned. If you do it twice, you will no longer be welcome in our community.”
When they finished eating he led her to where the dirty dishes were stacked and then through an opening in the back of the dining hall. It opened into a small room where two men were sitting against a wall playing a game that looked like mancala. The men stood as soon as they entered.
They both bowed and one said, “Elimelech awaits.” He pulled the drape to the next room back.
This room was large and richly decorated. An old man with white hair and beard was sitting in an ornate chair big enough to be a throne on the far side of the room. The table before him held bowls of fruit and glass pitchers of different colored liquids. There was a large golden goblet in the center of the table.
The man motioned them forward.
“Stay one step behind me,” Shimishon whispered.
The old man’s voice was hoarse and feeble. “Tell me of this sword.”
Shimishon held his hand out to her. She produced the sword and carefully handed it to him.
“The rumor is this blade is sharp enough to divide the spirit and soul.”
“That may or may not be an exaggeration.” He laid the edge against the top of the goblet and let it slice the vessel in half down the middle.
“Granted, it is the sharpest blade I have ever heard about, but is it truly the sword of God?”
“That may be unknowable. However, there is no metal known on Earth that can do this.” He let the sword point toward the floor and dropped it.
The old man’s eyes widened and he used the chair’s arm to help him stand. “Indeed, it is most unusual. Why is it we are being requested to conceal it?”
She started to speak and Shimishon held his hand out to silence her.
“The one whose sword this is wishes to hide it from the son of Lucifer. He had a vision three days ago and was shown that it must be so. This woman is his emissary, she bears his request.”
Elimelech looked at her, “LeOmi, you may speak. Tell me the instructions he gave you.”
She realized that he had used her name. Someone must have told him. “Sir, I was present to witness the vision. All seven of the pre-chosen were. Mark asked that the sword be hidden with the Nazarites.” She produced the replica. “Or that this replica be hidden in its place allowing everyone to believe it is the real one.”
He held his hand out and she gave him the sword. He pulled it from the scabbard and struck one of the pitchers slicing it down the middle. “This one is very sharp too, but it is no equal to the other.”
“Nothing made by man can ever be equal.”
“I agree. This sword,” he indicated the original, “is meant for Mark’s hand. We will hide this one.” He shook the replica. “If Mark wishes the real sword hidden, he should hide it himself. We will not accept that responsibility.”
Shimishon bowed and removed the sacrifice soda he’d received yesterday and handed it to Elimelech.
“Ooo! Dr. Pepper, it is a real treat. Thank you so very much.” He held it up, offered a short prayer, popped the top and began drinking.
LeOmi removed the remainder of the case of sodas she had in Aaron’s Grasp and handed it to Shimishon. “Thank you for your help.”
He took the case and said, “I will remember your generosity all my days.”
* * *
Naomi pulled the latest wedding gown off and tossed it on top of the dressing screen. “Pei-Pei, who is our guest?”
“Her name is LeOmi.”
“I know that. Who is she, where is she from.”
“She is here to hide a special sword for her master.”
“I know that too. If you will not tell me, I’ll ask Uncle Shimishon.” She danced from behind the screen slowly spinning and asked, “How is this one?”
“It is better than the veils, but not much. Why do you wish to anger your future husband?”
“I don’t know who he is and I don’t want to leave you.”
“You will remain my student. If your husband forbids it, there are potions.”
“Why do they keep who he is hidden?”
“It is the way of the Nazarite. There are many possibilities. You have meditated on this, but know you cannot change it.”
“I know, but the answers are not good. Why are you keeping who LeOmi is secret?”
“She is not good for you. You stay away from her.”
“Is she a great sorceress that makes you look like a student?”
“Shameful child, you know there is none greater than I. Provoke me no more.”
“I will ask my uncle. He will tell me.”
“Very well, if you must know, she is a great sword master, a Magi. Stay away from her; she will corrupt your training.”
“Tell me of this sword, surely you must know about it.”
“I know nothing of it, but if her master wishes to hide it here it must be very special.”
“You are planning to steal it.”
“If I had need of it, it would already be mine.”
* * *
LeOmi and Shimishon had just returned from touring the rock-hewn churches in Lalibela. There was a large commotion going on, people running this way and that. A crier stood in the middle of the street calling in a strange language.
Shimishon said, “A crime has been committed. The sword has been stolen. A masked thief wearing Bedouin clothing.”
Another voice began crying.
Shimishon said, “The distant voice is saying: The thief is here. The thief is here.”
LeOmi remanifested toward the distant voice. Several men had the thief surrounded and were striking at the small person with wooden staffs. The thief used the sword to parry the blows, easily slicing them in two. She stepped up and drew her sword.
“Drop the sword and surrender.”
The thief advanced on her. LeOmi sliced the air in front of her, the sword trailing a rainbow and the thief dropped the sword. Around her, the men chorused gasps of surprise as they dropped their staves too.
“You cannot win. Surrender now.”
The thief’s left hand flashed forward and the air between them filled with a red powder then exploded into flame.
It took a couple of seconds for her to regain her sight. When she did, the thief was gone. Several men standing far enough away to not be blinded by the flash were pointing up. She looked and saw the thief, carrying the sword, fifty feet overhead floating quickly away.
