In dawn’s gray light, the four journeyed south to a rise near the road. From here they could watch the city and the road, and see any visitors as they approached.
As the sun climbed higher, Gaddiel was losing hope. “It’s nearly midday. We’ve been here all morning, without a sign of any traders. Maybe they come only once a week.”
“We’ll wait until after the evening meal, then we’ll go back to the others. They may have a circle of places they visit each day.” Caleb lay back with his arms under his head, his eyes closed.
How could Caleb relax at a time like this? Gaddiel stared at the city, then back at the road. Back and forth, back and forth.
As Gaddiel stuffed a piece of dried meat in his mouth, a puff of dust rose into the sky far to the south. He blinked and looked again. The cloud grew bigger and duskier. Figures emerged. A camel. Then another. A man to the side of the camel. A pair with a donkey. More and more men. The traders!
“If you’re caught, you’ll be killed.” Kamose’s words rang in his ears. Could he remember everything he’d learned? If only Joshua weren’t coming. Joshua irritated him. And unnerved him.
They waited until the line passed them, then jumped off the rise and sprinted to fall in behind the last trader. Gaddiel’s blood pounded as they stood in line at the main gate to Arad. Would they be caught? The sun stood high in the southern sky, raining down heat. Sweat ran under his tunic, cloak, and the heavy packs on his back. Dust choked his throat. He cracked his knuckles—first one hand, then the other. Next to him, Joshua seemed annoyingly calm.
The guard frowned as Gaddiel stepped up to the doorway. He peered in his packs, all three of them, and said something in a language Gaddiel did not understand. Gaddiel frowned and shook his head, and the guard motioned to another who was leaning against the wall.
“Grapes?” The second guard spoke in Egyptian. “We haven’t had grapes here in weeks. The other traders said the harvest was over.”
“Obviously not. Perhaps they were just too lazy to carry them. They are quite heavy.” Gaddiel shifted the load on his back.
“You may enter. Out by sunset.”
Gaddiel shoved his way past Joshua and Caleb and entered first. One road, broad and crowded with residents and traders, hugged the circular walls. Caleb studied the road leading to the center of the city.
Away from the south gate, Caleb stopped. “I think we should split up.”
“I’ll take Palti.” Gaddiel volunteered before Caleb could stick him with Joshua or himself.
Caleb hesitated, but agreed. “It looks like main roads go from the gates to the center. You two go right, we’ll go left. We’ll meet at the other end of this road.”
Gaddiel and Palti set off along the main ring road.
“Look at these houses. They’re all exactly the same.” Palti waved his hand toward the rows of houses on their left.
“The houses in the delta were all the same.”
“Not exactly, and these are of stone, not mud brick. They’re bigger than ours, too.”
“These people aren’t slaves.”
They reached another wide road coming from the east gate.
“This is the end of the houses. Looks like this northeast quarter is the trading district.” Palti peered toward the center of the market.
Gaddiel looked west with him. “The city seems to run downhill toward the center. Let’s follow this road, then we’ll sell the grapes and meet the others.”
At the center of Arad, a reservoir held rainwater. They dropped their packs and greedily filled their water skins.
Gaddiel upended his skin and squirted the cool water down his throat, then sat back on his heels and surveyed the city. He enjoyed another lengthy draw, then blew out a long breath. “Walls as thick as I am tall, enough water and food for months, towers high enough to see anyone coming from as far away as Egypt … I don’t see how we could ever take this city.”
“Shhh!” Palti glanced around furtively. “All we have to do is bring back the information. We don’t have to plan the attacks. Kamose can help. He’s done it before.”
Kamose. Gaddiel would have to come up with something before they returned to Kadesh. He would not go back and hand everything over to Kamose. And Joshua. All the planning. All the leading. All the glory.
Six
6 Tammuz
Tirzah settled back against the log. The sun warmed her face and melted away some of the tension in her shoulders. The girls’ giggles floated on the air around her and gave her a few moments’ peace.
“’Mose! Come here! ’Mose!” The girls ran toward Ahmose, and pulled him by an arm to see their latest discovery.
Tirzah leaned forward, forearms on her knees, amazed at how the twins had taken to the boy.
A shadow fell, covering the spot where she sat. She twisted around to see the tall soldier standing behind her. His nearness made her heart flutter. She shook her head to clear it. She didn’t need to be thinking about him like that. Surely he was only checking on Ahmose.
“May I join you?”
She smiled. “Of course.”
Kamose sank to the ground, then laid a small cloth on the sand between them and dropped a handful of dates upon it. “Have some.”
Tirzah took one of the dates and ripped it open to take out the pit as she watched him from the corner of her eye. He looked so different from Israelite men. His long, straight black hair was tied back, and he wore only a shenti. He was clean-shaven. And she’d never seen any man wear so much leather—belt, dagger sheath, and sandals that laced all the way up to his knees. But on him it looked good. “So how did you end up here with us? Meri said she escaped with Bezalel. What about you?”
He leaned back against the log, arms spread, his hand almost touching her back. “Actually, Meri came with me.”
She arched a brow. “What?”
One corner of his mouth pulled up. Almost a smile. “It’s not like it sounds. Bezalel wanted her to go with him, but it didn’t happen that way. When all of you left, Meri and I were left in the palace. By that time, I knew Ramses was not a god. So instead of chasing you with the army as I was ordered, I found Meri …” He tilted his head and narrowed one eye. “She told you how she came to the palace? Where she ended up?”
“In the harem? Yes.” She smiled. He protected Meri’s reputation. Was he always so thoughtful?
“So I retrieved a horse, and we caught up with you just before the crossing of the sea.”
“So you were part of the army?”
“Not exactly. I worked in the palace.” He shifted his weight and looked away.
Apparently that was all she was getting on that subject. She tried something else. “You met Bezalel there, then?”
He tossed a date pit over his shoulder and his gaze met hers again. “He was an artisan to the pharaoh. I met him when he helped Ahmose.”
“You seem quite close. How long have you known him?”
“I met him a year before we left, but I’ve gotten to know him much better this last year.”
“Your tent is next to Bezalel and Meri’s?”
He nodded. “They’re like my family now. Bezalel, Meri, his mother, Rebekah—she spends most of her time with the midwives now. Bezalel’s grandfather was killed in the battle of the golden calf.”
“I’m sorry. You don’t have a family of your own?”
“No.”
Once again, a final statement. It was odd for a man his age to have no family. He must have had one at one time. What had happened to them? She tucked her feet under her, turning toward him.
“Ahmose is your nephew?”
“My sister, Tia, was lured into the harem. She died in childbirth, and asked me to look after him, but not reveal myself. I only told him who I was a few months ago. Bezalel took him to his home after Pharaoh’s magician beat him quite badly, and he stayed there. He escaped with Bezalel.”
Ahmose’s mother was in the harem? The realization seared her heart. “So, his father is
…”
“Yes, but he doesn’t know.” Kamose shook his head. “He’ll figure it out some day, but doesn’t need to know now that the source of all the pain in his life is his own father.”
Silence hung between them for several moments. She studied his face as he watched the children. As tall and strong as he was, she saw none of the harshness she’d experienced with Jediel. Jediel needed everyone to know he was in charge, loved to be mean for no other reason than he could be. Kamose seemed to have all his strength firmly under control. It was almost irresistible.
She brought her thoughts back to the present. “What are these? You always wear them.” She touched his armband and fingered the row of polished jewels. “What are these stones?”
“Carnelians. The dark red symbolizes the lifeblood of all creation. It’s supposed to have healing properties, but of course I no longer believe that.”
Her finger slipped and she brushed his warm skin. An unfamiliar sensation moved from her hand through the rest of her body. Her breath caught. She looked up to find his dark eyes fixed on her.
He swallowed. “They are—were—the mark of the captain of the guard.”
It took a moment for his comment to take effect. “You were captain of the guard?”
“Yes.”
“You lived in the palace.”
“Across from the pharaoh. I was his bodyguard.”
She let out a deep sigh. “You were captain of the guard and Ramses’s bodyguard. Ahmose is his son.”
He nodded.
“You share a tent with Joshua, commander of Israel’s army. Your tent backs up to Moses’s tent. Your closest friend made the tabernacle, and another friend is elder of the tribe of Judah, and Aaron’s brother-in-law. Did I leave anything out?”
Kamose grinned. “No, I think you got it all.”
Naomi stumbled near. “Imma, I’m hungry.” She crawled into Tirzah’s lap.
Tirzah stroked the girl’s hair. “All right, we’ll go back to the tent.” She beckoned to Keren.
The smiling girl trotted toward them with a fistful of flowers, Ahmose close behind. Her hair was mussed, and her tunic hung off one shoulder.
Kamose burst into laughter.
Tirzah narrowed her eyes.
He shrugged. “Well, it looks like she had fun.”
Tirzah glanced over her daughter head to toe. Her face relaxed. “I guess you’re right.” She turned to Kamose, and a grin tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Well, well.”
“What?”
“You finally laughed. I’ve never seen you smile, let alone laugh.”
A broad smile crept across his face. “Then it must be you.”
Gaddiel and the others stood atop a mountain and surveyed Hebron below. Four massive mountains surrounded the city, which sat nestled in the valley they created.
“Look at those walls and towers! They’re higher than Arad’s!” Igal wore a worried frown as he paced.
“Maybe they just look taller from up here,” Sethur said.
“I don’t think so.” Gaddiel spat his words.
“We need to go down and get closer to see how we get in.” Caleb spoke as if nothing were amiss at all. No towers, no walls.
“Get in? We’re not getting in.” Gaddiel turned on Caleb.
“You don’t know that.” Joshua spoke calmly, taking Caleb’s side, as usual.
“It’s almost dark. We’ll climb down while we have light and scout out the city after the gates close.” Caleb turned his back on the group and began the hike.
Gaddiel balled his fists. He had no choice but to follow.
At the bottom of the mountain, Gaddiel craned his neck and stared at the looming tower above the main gate. “It’s as tall as ten men! At least! There are four more besides.” He wheeled and faced Joshua. “There is no possible way we can take Hebron. We might as well go back.”
Joshua clenched his teeth. “We are not going back. Moses said we are to go all the way to the north end of the land Yahweh promised us, and Hebron is not the end. If you want to quit, go ahead, but we’re not finished with this mission, and we will not stop until we are.”
Gaddiel came nose-to-nose with his young leader. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “These walls and towers are made of stone blocks bigger and taller than we are. They are wider than the walls at Arad. They cannot be broken. They cannot be climbed. They cannot be burned. I don’t even know how they could have moved them.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “We cannot take this city.”
Joshua’s stare drilled into Gaddiel. “You can find your own way back.”
Gaddiel took a deep breath. He may have gone too far. At any rate, his position was no longer in doubt. He stomped away from the group, into the olive groves, and slumped against a tree. The gnarled bark was warm on his back, having soaked up the sun’s rays all day. The trees around him were massive, stretching to the sky—they must have been hundreds of years old. Vineyards started just beyond the grove and extended out of sight around the wall, with grapes larger than those they had carried to Arad.
The strong, fruity scent of olives surrounded him as he pondered the scene he had just caused. Perhaps he hadn’t revealed everything. They now knew he was not the biggest supporter of the mission, but not necessarily that he wanted to take Joshua’s place. If he suddenly supported the mission now, it would look suspicious and insincere. But if he continued to defy Joshua, in front of everyone, he would never get the support he needed to become a leader.
He ran his hand over his face. He needed another tactic. But what? He must undermine Joshua’s authority, or at least his credibility. He had to shift everyone’s trust from Joshua to him. But he couldn’t be too obvious.
He may as well join the group for now. Being out of the loop would only hurt him. He pushed himself to his feet and leaned against the olive tree. But just as he was starting to return to the others, they bolted toward him, into the grove.
Kamose swallowed the last manna cake of the day and strode toward Tirzah’s campsite. He struggled to slow his steps as well as his heartbeat, tamping down a desire to see her so strong it rattled him. Maybe it was due only to the fact that he had nothing better to do. Nothing to do at all, actually. The air cooled as the sun began its slow descent behind the mountains to the west, but dusk was still a couple of hours away.
He neared the spot where he could cut from his row down to hers. Stepping between two tents, he saw her sitting by her fire, combing Naomi’s hair, completely lost in the task. Her own hair hung down her back, waves the color of cedar mimicking the curves of her shoulders and waist. The fire brought out red highlights in the brown. He sucked in a breath—what he wouldn’t do to bury his hands in that hair, to …
He shook his head as if to loosen those thoughts and toss them out. But as he started to emerge from between the tents, another man approached her. Kamose stilled. His heart beat even faster.
The man, shorter than Tirzah, came too near her for Kamose’s comfort. He knelt behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. Kamose held his breath. Did he even have the right to be jealous? Had he completely missed the signs she had another man in her life? One she preferred to him? His heart dropped to his sandals.
At the stranger’s touch, Tirzah jerked away as if she’d been burned. She leaped to her feet.
A small measure of relief washed over Kamose, but it was shortlived as he noticed the fear on her face. Should he step in?
“Tirzah, why do you withdraw from me so?”
She backed away. “Because I despise you, and you have no right to touch me.”
Naomi hid behind Tirzah, grasping her tunic. Keren glared up at the intruder, tiny fists at her sides. “Leave Imma alone!”
“Control your daughters, woman.” The man spoke with thinly disguised disgust. “They have nothing to do with us.” He moved to close the distance between himself and Tirzah.
Kamose ached to grab the man by the neck and squeeze. The thought shocked him. He’
d killed often, but only in battle, dispassionately, under orders. He’d never wanted to kill out of pure anger. Until now.
Tirzah fisted her hand in front of her chest. “They have everything to do with us! There will never be anything between us. I will never marry you.”
The man shook his head. “You really have no choice. No one else will have you. You are far too much trouble.”
Too much trouble?
The man grabbed her arm. “And unless you marry, you will starve. You and your precious daughters.”
“I’ll find a way to survive. And it won’t be by marrying you, Nathaniel. You—you sicken me! Now leave!”
Nathaniel twisted her arm to the side, causing her to contort her body to avoid the pain. “You have no choice! You are as good as mine. I will never release you!”
Blood boiling, Kamose burst from between the tents. He grabbed Nathaniel with both hands and shoved him away from Tirzah. “She asked you to leave.”
Nathaniel smirked as he stumbled backward. “Ah, the Egyptian.”
Behind Kamose, the girls started crying.
“Whether I am Egyptian or Hebrew does not matter. What does matter is that she does not want you here.”
“This is none of your concern. You are the one who must leave.”
“I will leave when she asks me to.” Kamose took one long step toward the much shorter man and grabbed Nathaniel’s arm just as the man had grabbed Tirzah’s, then squeezed. “You can go, or I can break every bone in your hand. And I will enjoy doing it.” It took every measure of control he had not to snap Nathaniel’s arm in two.
Nathaniel winced and nodded, and Kamose released him. He eyed Kamose and then Tirzah, and turned back to Kamose before he left.
Kamose turned to a shivering Tirzah, who stood rubbing her shoulder. He reached for her.
She backed up a step instead.
His heart panged at her rejection. “Tirzah, who was that?”
By the Waters of Kadesh (Journey to Canaan) Page 7
