Daughter of Deliverance

by Gilbert, Morris

  “They say their god will do it for them.”

  “Their god! We’ve got gods enough here to stop them.”

  Rahab listened for a time, and when it appeared that the man was about to leave, she ducked outside. She filled her jar with water and waited until the man had left. When she went back inside, she stopped in front of Shalmanezer. “The monthly time of women is on me,” she said. “I need to visit my family until it’s over.”

  Shalmanezer stared at her. He had wanted to break her spirit, but he never had. There was something indomitable in the woman that sometimes caused him to watch her with awe. “Go, then. Be back in three days or I’ll send for you and it’ll be worse for you.”

  “I will be back.”

  Promptly she went into her room and made her preparations. The day was gone now and night had fallen, but she was not afraid of the dark. After all, what could happen to a harlot that was worse than what she was already enduring? She left the house of Shalmanezer wrapped carefully against the cool air. She carried several items she had managed to take from Shalmanezer’s kitchen. She had no compunction about taking whatever she could get out with. He was the man who had ruined her life forever, and it gave her pleasure to think that he was paying for it in some very small way.

  As she walked quietly, she heard the voices of the soldiers on patrol. One troop of them came running along in order, their officer rapidly calling out commands. The walls were alive with soldiers, and she prayed, God of the Israelites, destroy this evil place! The prayer shocked her. She had not prayed like this before. All of her prayers had been for her family, but she knew that somehow the god of the Israelites was different from the gods of Jericho. She knew the gods of that city were futile and helpless, mere fragments of clay or stone or wood.

  The moon was still in its quarter stage and cast little moonlight down, barely enough for her to see her way along the wall. The voices of the soldiers echoed from a distance, and she knew they were going all around the wall searching for something. It had to be for an enemy. She had never seen such activity. The man had mentioned that there were spies in the land, yet the thought did not cause her any fear.

  She was within a hundred yards of her house when something moving caught her eye. Even in the dark she could see two men, one of them leaning against the other, limping along the street. Narrowing her eyes, she studied them and wished that the moon were brighter.

  As she waited quietly, one of the men nearly fell, and the other had to hold him up. She stepped forward cautiously. When she got close enough to hear their whispers, she knew that these men were not from Jericho. Their speech was quite different.

  These are the spies from Israel!

  Even as that thought came to her, she heard the feet of soldiers approaching from the opposite direction. Without hesitation, she stepped forward, and the man who was holding the other one up drew his sword.

  “Stop,” he cried in a hoarse voice, “or I’ll kill you.”

  “You must hide. The soldiers are coming,” Rahab said. Moving closer to them, she could see that one man had a bandaged arm, and the bandages were soaked with blood. “Quick, this way.”

  “Who are you?”

  “My name is Rahab. You are Israelites.”

  “How do you know that?” the wounded man gasped.

  “Everyone knows there are spies in the area. I know everyone in Jericho, and besides I can tell by your voice and by your dress. The soldiers are coming. My house is right there. I will hide you.”

  “Who are you?” the wounded man gasped.

  “I told you my name is Rahab.” She hesitated, then said, “I will not lead you into harm. I am…a harlot.”

  The wounded man laughed weakly. “Wouldn’t you know it, Othniel, the only help we have and she’s a harlot.”

  “I don’t care what she is,” Othniel said. “They’re coming. I can hear them.”

  “We won’t go with a harlot!”

  “Yes we will. Why would you hide an enemy, Rahab?” he said.

  “I have heard of your god. He is a strong god. He’s going to destroy this place.”

  “How did you hear of our God?” Othniel demanded.

  “Everyone has heard of him. He is the unseen god, isn’t he, the god of Moses?”

  “Yes.”

  “Quickly, come quickly to my house. You must or you will be taken.”

  “I won’t go into the house of a harlot,” Ardon said stubbornly.

  “Shut up, Ardon, you’re dying! You’ve lost so much blood you can’t even walk, and you certainly can’t think right.” Othniel was frightened but also angry. “This is no time for your self-righteousness.” He turned to Rahab and said, “We will be most grateful for your help, Rahab.”

  “This way,” she said. “I will help you. Put your arm across my shoulders.”

  “I won’t touch you,” Ardon insisted.

  “Don’t be stupid, you fool!” Othniel said. “Let her help you.”

  At this point Ardon was so weak from loss of blood he had little will left. He was just barely aware that the woman was bracing him up on his side and also that she was being careful of his wounded arm.

  The three could only move slowly down the street. When they finally arrived at her doorway, she said, “Here, let’s go inside.” She opened the door and helped the wounded man in. As they closed the door, Ardon slumped to the floor unconscious. Rahab and Othniel stared at each other. The feet of the soldiers pounded by, and the officer’s voice said, “Find them. They’re here somewhere. Find them!”

  “I think you saved our lives, Rahab, and I thank you.”

  Rahab looked down at the limp figure. “I must take care of his arm or he will bleed to death.”

  The noise of their entrance stirred the rest of the family. They came in staring, and Rahab cut all questions short. “These men are servants of the god of Israel. We must help them.”

  Chapter 10

  “Where is Father?” Rahab demanded. She could still hear the voices and the treads of the soldiers outside, but they were rapidly fading.

  “He and Hamath went over to visit with Machiah,” Kadir said. His eyes were fixed on the two tall strangers, and apprehension stirred in his eyes. “They’ve been searching everywhere for these two, don’t you know it?”

  “I know it,” Rahab said. “But we must help them. One of them has been wounded.” She turned and stepped closer to Ardon, who was awake again and poised as if he was planning to flee. His face was pale, and she shook her head. “You’ve lost so much blood. Here, lie down.”

  Ardon stared at her, then at the rest of the family. “I’m all right,” he said, his voice weak.

  “Don’t pay any attention to him,” Othniel said urgently. “Where do you want him?” Stepping forward, he guided Ardon to a low table that Rahab indicated.

  “Put him down on this,” she said. Without stopping, she turned and picked up a basin and filled it with water from a larger jug. “Get some clean cloths, Romar.”

  Romar wheeled away and dashed into the other room. By the time Ardon was lying down flat on his back, she had returned.

  “Help me get this garment off. It’s soaked with blood.” She and Romar stripped the garment from Ardon, and Rahab shook her head. “That’s going to have to be sewn up. It’ll never stop bleeding.” She pressed a cloth down on the wound, saying, “Hold this, Romar.” She got up smoothly and crossed the room. She took out a needle and flax thread from a small box and threaded the needle. Then she returned and carefully told Ardon. “This is going to hurt, I’m afraid.”

  When she got no answer, Othniel urged her, “Go ahead. Sew it up.”

  “I’ve never done anything like this, but it must be done. Would you prefer to do it, sir?” Rahab said to Othniel.

  “You go ahead. I’ll help hold the flesh together.” Coming forward, he knelt down and held the two edges of the wound together. He watched as Rahab began to work. He knew it must be painful, but when he glanced at Ardon, he
saw that his cousin’s lips were pressed closely together. He did not utter a word or a groan.

  Finally Rahab said in an unsteady voice, “That’s the best I can do.”

  “It’s very good,” Othniel said. “I don’t think anyone could have done it any better.”

  Skillfully Rahab put a bandage on and tied it, saying, “He’s going to need lots of water, and I suppose you’re hungry.”

  “Starved. We haven’t had anything since yesterday.”

  “You sit with him. My sister and I will fix something.”

  ****

  There was no privacy in the small room, and Othniel heard every word that was spoken. While Rahab and Romar prepared the food, the girl and boy stared at Ardon curiously. Ardon had drunk plenty of water, and his color was somewhat better.

  “We’re going to get out of this, Ardon,” Othniel said.

  “I doubt it.” Ardon’s voice was weak, and he did not open his eyes. “They’ll be searching everywhere for us. They must have found those bodies.”

  “What bodies?” The man named Kadir asked. He was sitting on a stool across the room and appeared to be no threat.

  “We were trapped outside the city by a patrol. There was a fight and we killed them.”

  Rahab listened as Othniel spoke. She stole covert glances at the pair, impressed with them. They were both tall, strong men, and the one with the wound, whose name she had heard as Ardon, especially so. Their speech was a little different from those of her city, and she yearned to ask them about their people, but she said nothing.

  When the simple meal was ready, Rahab said, “Here is something good to eat.”

  “Can you sit up long enough to eat, Ardon?”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “You’ve got to eat. Here, sit up and lean against the wall.”

  Othniel helped Ardon to a sitting position leaning back against the wall. Rahab filled two bowls with the stew she had fixed and brought them over. She handed one to Othniel and the other to Ardon.

  Othniel tasted the stew and exclaimed, “This is excellent! You’re a fine cook, Rahab.”

  Rahab flushed. “Thank you. It’s no more than a simple stew. We’ll cook something more substantial a little later.”

  The boy had overcome his fear of the two men. He came over and stood beside Othniel, watching him eat, then he asked abruptly, “Do you eat children?”

  Othniel was startled. He turned and stared at the boy, then laughed. “No, I don’t eat children. Why do you ask?”

  “He’s heard rumors,” the girl said. She too had drawn closer. “You’re Israelites, aren’t you?”

  “Yes we are.”

  “We’ve heard all about you,” Zayna said, nodding. “That you kill everybody in wars.”

  “Well, not everybody, though we have been in some battles. But,” he said, shaking his head, “we don’t eat children.” He smiled and squeezed Oman’s cheek. “Though if I were going to eat a boy, I think you would be a fine one to start with.” He saw the alarm and laughed. “Don’t be afraid. I’m only teasing.”

  Rahab introduced her family. “This is my sister Romar, her husband, Kadir, and their son, Oman. This is my younger sister, Zayna.”

  “Is there anyone else here living with you?”

  “My father, but he’s gone—and a distant relative named Hamath.”

  Othniel said, “If word gets out we’re here, you’ll probably be killed for harboring enemies.”

  “None of us will tell,” Rahab said without hesitating. “Isn’t that right? We’ve got to help these men, for they are the servants of the great god of Israel.”

  “How did you hear about us?” Othniel asked, finishing the stew and letting Romar refill his bowl.

  “Travelers stop here and tell us about everything. Also our relative, Hamath, was living in a city where Og was king.”

  “That was Bashan. Og was king of Bashan.”

  “That’s what he said, and he told us your people came and there was a battle, and everyone in the city was killed.”

  “Some of our men were killed too,” Othniel said quickly. He continued to answer their questions, then was startled when Ardon spoke.

  “Why are you people doing this?”

  Everyone turned toward Ardon. The bowl was in his lap, and there was a little color in his cheeks. “Why are you taking us in? We don’t know you.”

  Rahab replied quickly, “We have all heard of the great god that you serve. We don’t know his name, but our kinsman told us all about him. What a powerful god he is. Our gods are weak and helpless. I think you’ve been sent to see what our soldiers and our city are like.”

  When Ardon didn’t answer, Othniel said, “That’s right. We’re scouts.”

  “Then your soldiers are going to attack our city, aren’t they?” Rahab said.

  “Yes, they are.”

  “I thought so,” Rahab said, nodding. “When I saw you it leaped into my heart that if we would help you, then maybe you would ask your god to have mercy on my family.”

  Othniel waited for Ardon to speak, but he did not say a word. He felt that someone had to say something, and quickly he agreed, “That sounds fair enough. If you help us, we’ll help you.”

  From outside came the sound of soldiers’ voices, far away but coming closer. “You can’t stay in here,” Rahab said. “We’ve got to get them up on the roof.”

  “How do you get up there?” Othniel said, quickly getting to his feet.

  “Get the ladder, Romar.”

  Romar disappeared and came back in right away with a short ladder. She put it up to a square hole at the corner that Othniel had not noticed. “I don’t know if he can climb or not.”

  “He’ll have to,” Othniel said grimly. “Come along, Ardon.”

  Othniel got Ardon to his feet. When they got to the ladder, however, Ardon whispered, “I don’t think I can do it.”

  “Here, I’ll help you.” Othniel turned Ardon to face him, stooped over, and picked him up until Ardon was draped over his shoulders. Slowly and carefully he began ascending the ladder. It creaked and groaned under the heavy weight of the two men, and the family watched until Othniel’s feet disappeared.

  As soon as they were out of sight, Rahab turned to her family and said, “My father and Hamath must not know of this. You understand?”

  “Why not?” Oman asked.

  “Because this must be a secret, Oman. Nobody must know that these men are here. The soldiers would kill us all if they knew. So you must not breathe a word to anyone.”

  “I won’t,” Oman said.

  “How are we going to keep it from Father—and Hamath?” Romar asked.

  “Here’s some money,” Rahab said, taking some coins out of a box in the corner. “If Father shows up, give it to him. He’ll go out and drink it up. We’ve got to keep this from him.” Quickly she began to fill a jug with water. She put some dry food in a basket and said, “I’m going to take this up to them.” She mounted the ladder and emerged under the night sky. The moon was brighter now, and by the light of it, she could see the two Israelites. The roof had a balcony built around it, which would hide them from the view of those in the street. Of course, on the outside of the city wall there was nothing but a sheer drop to the earth far below.

  “I brought you some more food and water,” Rahab said, drawing near. She knelt down and put the basket and a jug of water beside the wall. “You’ll have to be quiet up here.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Othniel said.

  “I’ll bring some blankets up. It’ll get cooler tonight.”

  “I thank you for what you’ve done. You’ve probably saved our lives,” Othniel said.

  “It won’t be safe for you to leave here for a while. The soldiers are everywhere.” She hesitated, then said, “My father must not know you’re here.”

  “Why not?”

  Rahab shook her head. “He’s not an honorable man. He would sell you for the reward I am certain the king has offered t
o pay for you.” She turned to Ardon. “Are you feeling any better?”

  “I’m all right,” Ardon said gruffly.

  “You must eat and drink all you can, and later we’ll have to dress the wound.” When Ardon did not answer, she nodded and said, “Good night.”

  ****

  As soon as Rahab disappeared, Ardon muttered, “We’ve got to get out of here.”

  “Are you crazy! We wouldn’t last out there on the streets. You can’t even walk. How do you propose to get out?”

  “She’ll give us up.”

  “Who?”

  “That woman—Rahab.”

  “Why would you say a thing like that?” Othniel asked with astonishment. “She’s saved our lives.”

  “She’s a harlot. She sells herself for money. You think she wouldn’t sell us?”

  Othniel was disgusted. “I don’t know what she is. She may be a harlot, I don’t know. But she’s not going to give us up. She’s an honest woman. Can’t you see that in her face?”

  “No, I don’t believe it.”

  “Then you’re a fool! I know you’re smarter than I am, Ardon, but you don’t know much about people. If she was going to give us up, she would have done so already.”

  Ardon did not answer for a long time. At last he lay back and closed his eyes. “You can’t trust the word of a harlot,” he whispered.

  The moon shone brightly on the two men, and Othniel stared down at the face of his friend. He knew that Ardon had many good qualities, but he had long ago noticed that he had an unforgiving, harsh spirit. Once he lost his good opinion of someone, it was lost forever.

  Othniel knew a little something about that because he had lost Ardon’s goodwill years earlier. He waited until the woman brought the blankets, and he whispered to her, “My friend’s asleep, but he’s not feeling well. I want to thank you for both of us.”