The Gate of Heaven

by Gilbert, Morris

  “Yes, she is. You can see her beauty in her son. Well, come along. We want to know all about this furnace you keep talking about.”

  Chapter 28

  Judah, Reuben, and Zebulun formed a semicircle around Demetrius. The smoke from the furnace that they had worked together to build stung their eyes, but they paid little heed to that. Zebulun edged closer as Demetrius carefully poured the molten contents of a thick, heavy pan into another container resting on a roughly made wooden table.

  “How do you know how much tin to add, Demetrius?” Judah asked.

  Demetrius did not take his eyes from the bubbling molten metal as it fell in a thin stream. “It’s largely a matter of experience. You get it wrong a few times and that teaches you.”

  Demetrius tilted the vessel he was holding toward him and studied the metal that was bubbling over the fire. “That ought to be about right,” he said with satisfaction.

  “What do you do now?”

  “We mix it up, and then we pour it into the mold we’ve made. Do you want to try it, Judah?”

  “Yes!” Judah stepped forward at once and grasped the heavy tongs Demetrius had made. He gripped the jaws firmly over the vessel containing the mixture, lifted it, and turned to the table, where a mixture of heavy clay had been formed in the shape of a sword. Carefully he lifted and tilted the container, and the molten metal of a rich golden color poured out.

  “That’s good, Judah. Now each of you fellows try your hand at these other molds.”

  Demetrius supervised as the other two sons of Jacob tried their hand at the task. Reuben filled a form that made an axhead, and Zebulun created a series of daggers all in the same mold.

  “How long do we have to wait before they’re ready to use?” Judah wondered.

  “They’ll have to cool properly,” Demetrius explained.

  “Let me see that sword you made again, Demetrius,” Judah said eagerly.

  Demetrius nodded. “It’s over there,” he said, indicating a shelf to the right of the furnace. A crude shelter for the furnace had been built, consisting of only a roof held up by stakes, but there were several shelves to hold the tools and finished products.

  Judah went and picked up the sword, which was perfectly formed but as yet had nothing to protect the hand from the raw metal handle. Nevertheless, Judah picked it up and began slashing it around in the air. “It’s perfectly balanced!” he exclaimed. He ran his hand along the length of the blade, and his eyes sparkled with pleasure. “It’s so much better than the old swords we had! We’ve got to make a lot of them.”

  “You’ll have to buy more tin first,” Demetrius said. He began to clean the vessels, adding, “The closest place I know of to get it is from the Hittites up in the north, but they don’t like to sell to strangers.”

  “We can do it, though,” Zebulun said, excitedly waiting his turn to hold the sword. “I’d like to make a trip up there and buy some. Maybe we could take a ship.”

  “You’re always wanting to go on ships,” Judah said, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t want to get out of sight of land.”

  Zebulun argued, “Well, I would. I’d like to sail all the way across to where you came from, Demetrius.”

  “So would I.” Demetrius grinned dryly.

  His words made the three somewhat uncomfortable. Demetrius was a slave, but he had never had the attitude of one. During his stay with the Hebrews, he had proven himself to be an invaluable worker, especially in the matter of metal working. The three brothers who had gathered to help Demetrius were most interested in doing the metal work. The others had their eyes, as always, on the flocks and herds.

  “Well, it’s been a long day,” Demetrius said. “Let’s clean up here. We’ve got a little tin left. Maybe enough to make a couple more swords tomorrow.”

  “Yes. We need to make all we can,” Zebulun said, “and I’ll ask Father about buying some tin. Copper is easy to find, but tin isn’t.”

  “What are you going to do the rest of the day, Demetrius?” Judah asked as they finished the cleanup.

  “I’m going somewhere and hide so I won’t have to do anything else.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Judah said, laughing. “You’ve put in a hard day. You do it, and we won’t tell anyone.”

  Demetrius sat with his back against a scraggly tree and closed his eyes. He held a wineskin in his lap and from time to time had taken a sip from it. The sun was lowering in the sky now, but there was still an hour or more of daylight left. The lowing of the cattle around him and the voice of the shepherd, who was softly singing a love song, lulled Demetrius into a light sleep. This was broken when he heard a voice calling his name.

  “Demetrius, come here.”

  Opening his eyes, Demetrius saw Dinah approaching. She was wearing a light-blue colored robe and there was determination in her face—as there usually was! Getting to his feet, Demetrius waited under the sparse shade of the tree until she had come to stand before him. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing!” Dinah’s eyes opened wide, and her mouth grew firm. “Well, if you don’t have anything to do, I’ve got some work for you.”

  “I put in a pretty hard day with your brothers working with our metals.”

  “That’s none of my business!” Dinah snapped. She tilted her head back and, as always, resented having to look up at him. “I want you to go into the village.”

  Demetrius glanced at the direction from which she had come and did not seem to hear her question. “You shouldn’t have come across that field,” he remarked. “It’s dangerous.”

  “What are you talking about? There are no bears or lions this close to the camp.”

  “No, but that bull over there can be more dangerous than either one of those.”

  Dinah turned and saw a large red bull mixed in with the cows. “I’m not afraid of an old bull,” she snapped impatiently.

  “You should be afraid of that one. He attacked Denzil just this morning. If the boy hadn’t been so quick, that animal would have killed him.”

  Dinah did not like being told what to do by anyone, especially by Demetrius. “I’m not afraid of any bull,” she said. “Now, I want you to go into the village and get me some kohl.”

  “Kohl? What’s that?”

  “It’s something for my eyes.”

  “Are you having eye trouble? Is it a salve?”

  “No. It’s eye powder. You put it on your lids.”

  “What for?”

  “To…women use it to—” She broke off suddenly, embarrassed at his question.

  “Use it for what?” Demetrius persisted. He actually knew what kohl was for, but he enjoyed embarrassing her.

  “Women use it to make their eyes more noticeable.”

  “You don’t need that.” Demetrius almost smiled.

  “I’ll decide what I need and what I don’t! You can find it at the house of Jamar. His wife knows how to make it just the way I like it. Here. Take this money and be sure you use it for what I’m telling you.”

  “I don’t think it’d be enough to buy me passage back to Minoa,” he said, looking at the coins in his palm.

  “You’re impudent, Demetrius. You need to learn some humility.”

  “I’ll work on it. Maybe you could give me lessons, mistress.”

  Dinah could think of no reply. She was nearly always bested in a war of words with this man. She turned and walked away, her back straight.

  “Don’t go that way!”

  “I’ll go any way I please!” Dinah shouted without looking back. She made her way around the edge of the herd and found herself angry for losing at another encounter with the slave. “I wish I’d never seen him!” she muttered.

  She had not gone more than fifty yards when suddenly she heard a shout. Startled, she glanced back at Demetrius, who was running toward her yelling something—calling her name. She twisted her head to see what he was gesturing at and saw that the red bull had left the h
erd and was coming straight for her. He looked much larger now, and she turned and started to run. She was a fleet girl, but she heard the sound of the hooves coming closer.

  Suddenly she stepped in a hole that an animal had burrowed, and her ankle twisted. She fell headlong, scraping the palms of her hands, and when she rolled over, she saw that the bull had lowered his head and was charging right toward her. She cried out in fear, “Demetrius!”

  What Dinah saw next she would never forget for the rest of her days. The bull was coming straight for her, but as she struggled to her feet, feeling the pain in her ankle, she saw Demetrius running at full speed. He had pulled a piece of cloth out of his belt, and his features were intent. Dinah knew she could not outrun the bull, but she did not see what good the slave could do.

  The bull’s eyes were small and were fixed directly on her, but suddenly Demetrius yelled and waved the cloth he was carrying toward the bull’s head. It caught the red animal’s attention, and he turned shortly, leaving his pursuit of Dinah. He was going so fast he skidded around with his hind feet and then headed straight for Demetrius.

  Dinah held her breath as Demetrius simply stood there, holding the cloth in one hand, watching the animal closely. As the bull approached, he held the cloth out and flapped it. The bull turned his horns, and Dinah saw the tip of one of them pass through the cloth and rip it. The momentum of the bull carried him past Demetrius, and she cried out, “Demetrius, run!”

  “Run from what?” he said. “We’re not afraid of bulls, are we, mistress?” He turned to her, and she saw that he was laughing. Dinah saw the bull turn and charge again and she cried out. Demetrius turned, and once again, he held the cloth out and flapped it to catch the bull’s attention.

  Dinah stood there transfixed as time after time the bull charged. He was furious, she could see, but he was running out of energy.

  Dinah’s ankle was so painful she could not put any weight on it, so she stood with her weight on her left foot. “Run away, Demetrius!” she called out.

  “From this baby? Not likely, mistress.” He turned to her and said, “I’ll show you a trick I learned when I was a boy.”

  She watched as Demetrius tossed the cloth to the ground. He stood facing the bull squarely. The bull was partly spent, but he came slowly forward, his head lowered. He got within twenty feet of Demetrius and then charged again.

  Demetrius waited, his feet planted slightly apart. He had no cloth this time to distract the bull, and he held his arms directly out in front of him. The bull came straight as an arrow for him.

  And then what happened next made Dinah doubt her eyesight!

  As the bull ran into Demetrius, the man planted his hands right between the bull’s horns. At the same time he threw his body upward. The bull tossed his head, and Demetrius flew high into the air. Dinah watched openmouthed as the man’s trim body did a complete somersault over the bull! He landed facing away from the bull just behind where the animal stood.

  And he was laughing! Dinah stood watching with amazement as he turned and ran back toward the bull. The bull turned as well and Demetrius struck him on the nose with a tremendous punch and yelled, “Get out of here, you worthless animal!”

  The bull was confused, but Demetrius continued striking him until the animal turned and loped away, uttering a hoarse braying noise.

  After watching the bull run away, Demetrius turned and walked across to where Dinah was standing, still balanced on one foot, her mouth open. “Are you all right?” he said with a smirk.

  “My ankle’s hurt. I can’t walk on it.”

  “I’ll go get an animal for you to ride home—or do you want me to carry you?”

  Still shocked at the scene, Dinah could only reply, “How did you do that?”

  Instead of answering, Demetrius simply reached down and picked her up. He answered her question as he began to walk toward the camp. “It was a trick I learned when I was just a young fellow.”

  “But how did you do it?”

  Dinah squirmed a bit as Demetrius looked into her face, which was only inches away from his own. She could see the clearness of his eyes and the firmness of his lips. He seemed to be unaware of her weight, but she was well aware of being pressed against him. She did not know what to do with her hands and her arms. His left arm was under her knees and his other around her back, exactly as she herself might have carried a child.

  “It’s something we do in our country,” Demetrius explained. “Part of the way we live.” He stepped sideways to avoid a pile of sharp rocks and then continued. “We have people in my land called bull leapers. They do what you’ve just seen me do. My brother was one, and my sister too.”

  “Your sister did it?”

  “Yes. She was the best of all of us. Her name is Thea. She’s married now and doesn’t face the bulls anymore.” He hesitated, was quiet for a while, then shook his head. “One of my brothers was killed by a bull. The three of us were performing. He missed his grip, and the bull killed him with one thrust of his horn.”

  Dinah whispered, “I’m so sorry!”

  Her words caught at Demetrius. He was moving steadily along and did not break pace, but he shifted Dinah to better see her face. “You really are, aren’t you?”

  “Of course I am.”

  “Well, that’s a good sign.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I’ve never seen you sorry for anyone before.”

  “I’m sorry for lots of people,” Dinah protested.

  Demetrius did not answer. His face was only six inches away from hers, and he suddenly leaned forward and kissed her right on the lips.

  Dinah had not even guessed he was going to do such a thing. No man had ever kissed her before. After a few seconds, she pulled away, trying to act shocked and offended.

  “You…you shouldn’t have done that!”

  “No, I suppose not, but I did.”

  “I’m not one of those brazen young girls that you flirt with.”

  “I think they’re very nice,” he said. “A kiss isn’t the end of the world.”

  “Put me down.”

  “Are you sure you want me to?”

  “Yes.”

  Demetrius stopped and set her carefully on her feet. Dinah tried to walk, but she could not put her weight on the hurt foot.

  “I’ll go get you an animal.”

  “I think that might be best.”

  “Are you afraid of men?”

  “No! I…I just won’t be treated with impudence by a slave!”

  Demetrius shook his head. “I didn’t mean anything by it. We all kiss each other where I come from.”

  “That’s not true!”

  “No, I guess it isn’t.” He grinned playfully. “Well, I’ll be back as soon as I can find an animal.”

  Dinah stood balanced on one foot, watching the tall slave as he jogged away. Slowly she reached up and touched her lips. “Impudence! A slave kissing me!” She tried to feel anger, but she was thinking more of how he had come to save her. That bull might have killed me, she thought. In her mind’s eye she watched the scene play itself out as she waited, wondering at how graceful he was and how fearless.

  It’s too bad he’s a slave. He… She did not finish her thought but sat down abruptly and waited for him to return.

  Chapter 29

  “…. but tell me again, Dinah, exactly how it happened.” Jacob had stopped Dinah as she was walking out of her tent, still limping on her injured ankle. Catching her by the arm, he had raised the subject of her rescue by Demetrius. He now stood expectantly, not noticing how Dinah’s eyes flashed at his words.

  “There was nothing to it really, Father,” she said impatiently.

  “But that’s not what Belhu said.”

  Dinah had been embarrassed and humiliated by the encounter with the bull, and even by her rescue by Demetrius. Belhu, one of the shepherds, had seen the whole thing and had told the story back at camp, until everybody in the tribe knew it now. Dinah was si
ck to death of being asked to relate the incident, and now she shook her head angrily. “It was just that old red bull. He got after me, and Demetrius chased him off.”

  “But Belhu said that Demetrius did something wonderful with that bull. What was it?”

  “If you’re going to go around listening to servants, I’m not responsible,” Dinah said petulantly.

  Jacob stared at her. “You seem angry.”

  “I’m not angry.”

  “Yes, you are. Why is that?” Jacob asked, looking at Dinah more carefully. “From what Belhu said, Demetrius saved your life. You ought to give him a reward.”

  “He’s a slave, Father!” Dinah said, wishing her father would release her arm. “It was his duty.”

  Jacob might be guilty of spoiling his only child, but he was not a stupid man. He knew well how to read the mood of both men and women, and he saw that his beloved daughter was behaving peculiarly. “Don’t you like the man?” he finally asked.

  “Like him! He’s a slave.”

  “That doesn’t mean you can’t like him. I have affection for many of our bondservants and slaves.”

  Dinah succeeded in removing her arm. “I wish you’d stop pestering me,” she said peevishly and, without another word, scurried away.

  Jacob stared after her, a question growing in his mind. He turned and walked across the area where some women were working, churning milk and operating the loom.

  He found Demetrius working at the metal works shed that had become so important to some of his sons. “Hello, Demetrius,” he said. “What are you doing?”

  “Good afternoon, master. Just experimenting a little bit.” He held up an object, and Jacob took it in his hand.

  “Why, this is silver!”

  “Yes. I melted down one of Miss Rachel’s bits of jewelry and recast it.”

  “Why, this is well done, Demetrius!” Jacob exclaimed, looking admiringly at the flat brooch, which was still warm to the touch. “It’s beautifully done.”

  Jacob handed the brooch back, but Demetrius refused it. “You can give it to Rachel yourself, sir.”

  “I’m sure she’ll love it.” He admired the brooch for a time and then said, “Explain to me again how all of this works. It’s just a great mystery to me how anybody can take dirt and make shields and knives and things like this out of it.”