Daughter of Deliverance

by Gilbert, Morris

  “Something’s wrong, and you need to talk about it.”

  “I can’t tell anyone what’s wrong with me. Can’t you understand that?” Ardon’s voice was hoarse and his face was stricken.

  “Ardon, we all need to talk when we have problems.” Rahab could not imagine what had come into Ardon’s life to bring him to this. She began to speak about his need for getting close to his family, and finally she said, “You obviously think you’ve done something wrong. But God is forgiving no matter what we do.”

  Ardon shook himself as if a hand had wrung him. “Why do you try to comfort me, Rahab, when I’ve treated you so terribly?”

  “Why, I want the best for you, Ardon. You’ve taken care of me and my family.”

  “You know it was because Joshua commanded me to do it. It wasn’t my choice.”

  “But you did it, and I’ll always be grateful to you and Othniel for bringing me out of Jericho and saving my family.”

  “You’re the one who saved us.”

  Rahab moved closer and put her hand on his arm. It was the first time she had ever touched him. “You’re a grief to your father and to your sister. They’re worried sick about you. And I’m worried too.”

  Ardon laughed. At least he made a sound like laughter, but there was no joy in it. “If you knew what’s in my heart, Rahab, you’d despise me.”

  “No, I wouldn’t.”

  “You don’t know. Just leave me alone.” He wrenched his arm away and broke into a run.

  As Rahab watched him go, a great love for the man that had been building burst upon her. “Why, I love him!” she said. “And he’s in terrible trouble.” She turned slowly and walked back to the sheep, but her heart was crying out to God for this man. He had treated her badly, and she knew it. There was no hope that he would ever see her as anything but the harlot she had been in Jericho, but still she cried out to God, “Lord, he needs your help. He’s lost without it. Whatever is in him, help him with it.”

  ****

  Ariel had brought two servants with her, and each of them were leading three donkeys heavily laden with food for Caleb and his men. The way was rough, but Ariel was thinking of her brother. Her heart had broken over whatever it was that had seemingly destroyed him.

  The sun was high and beat down upon her, and overhead some birds of prey circled far over to her left. But after one glance she ignored them.

  “We must hurry. I want to be back before dark,” she called to the servants.

  Five minutes later one of the servants let out a terrified scream. Ariel, who was in the lead, turned to see that a group of wild-looking men had suddenly appeared. One of them swung his sword and cut down the youngest of the boys. The other boy attempted to run, but he was caught and pierced with daggers.

  Ariel started to run, but she knew it was hopeless. Strong hands seized her, and she whirled around to face the cruelest eyes she had ever seen.

  “Well, we have a beauty here, my fellows. Come. We have to give her to the captain, but after he’s through with her, he’ll give her to us. You’ll like that,” he laughed.

  Ariel knew that death would have been preferable to this. She could not even scream as rough hands pulled at her and led the donkeys away deeper into the desert. She was in the hands of the most merciless men she had ever seen.

  Chapter 28

  Othniel looked up sharply as his uncle came bursting through the door of his tent. One look at Caleb’s face, and Othniel jumped to his feet. “What’s wrong, Uncle?”

  “It’s Ariel…!” Caleb’s face was twisted with worry, a look Othniel had never seen. Caleb had always been so strong, so sure of himself. But now a dark cloud of anxiety was revealed in his eyes. “It’s Ariel….” he stammered again, his words terse and his lips drawn together into a straight line. “She’s been captured by the enemy.”

  “Captured! How could that happen?”

  “She was bringing us some food supplies when she was taken on the path.”

  “How are we going to get her back?”

  “I’m summoning the army. We’re going to make an attack right away. I’ll kill every man of them if I have to!”

  “But, Uncle,” Othniel said quickly, “we can’t do that.” His mind was working rapidly, and he shook his head. “If we attack, they may kill her. You know that happens all the time.”

  “I thought of that,” Caleb said, great anguish in his tone. “But we’ve got to do something.”

  “It’ll have to be a small operation. We’ll have to take a small group, track them down, find out where she is, and then wait for our chance. We’ll steal in at night and take her.”

  Everything in Caleb urged him to strike quickly, with a large force, but taking a deep breath, he forced himself to speak slowly. “Yes. That would be the thing to do. I’ll choose my men.”

  “You can’t go,” Othniel said.

  “What do you mean I can’t go? She’s my daughter.”

  “After Joshua, you’re the most valuable person Israel has. Joshua’s our leader, and he looks to you. If we lost you, we’d lose far too much. I’m going.”

  “You? Why, that would never do.”

  “I know you don’t think much of me, Uncle, but I’ve changed. Please. Let me choose a dozen men. We’ll get started as soon as we get our weapons together and a little food. We’ll bring her back. God won’t let us down.”

  It took some convincing, but Caleb finally nodded reluctantly. “I’d give anything to go myself, but I can see that would not be wise.” He put his hand on Othniel’s shoulder. “I trust you, nephew, to bring my daughter back.”

  “I’ll do everything possible. You know how we’ve always been friends, Ariel and I. I have a great fondness for her.”

  “I didn’t know how much I loved her until this came up. Now, go at once!”

  ****

  Othniel had gone through the ranks of soldiers in his mind, and quickly he sought out the twelve he had the most confidence in. Calling them off to one side, he outlined the critical situation and said, “It’s not going to be a battle but a raid. I’ve got to have men who can move quietly. We’ll have to do this by stealth. Now get your weapons ready. We’re leaving at once.”

  Othniel turned to get his own weapons and stopped short. Ardon had appeared and had obviously been listening. “I’m going with you, Othniel.”

  “That wouldn’t be wise, Ardon. What are you doing here? You haven’t recovered from your wound yet.” He wanted to say, You’re not in the right frame of mind either. Ardon’s behavior disqualified him from going on a critical raid like this.

  “I rushed here as soon as I heard about Ariel’s capture—Phinehas came with me.” Ardon shook his head, determination etched on his features. “I’m not going to argue about this. I’m going with you to get my sister back.”

  “All right. You understand the danger, and you understand what we must do. You’ll have to obey my orders this time, Ardon.”

  “As long as I’m with you, that’s all I ask.”

  “Good. Get your weapons. We’ll be leaving at once.”

  Othniel quickly gathered his weapons, but on his way back to lead the men out, he encountered Phinehas.

  “I heard what’s happened to Ariel,” the priest said. “I wish I were a soldier so I could go with you.”

  “You have a more important job.”

  “What is that, Othniel?”

  “You must pray to our God to give us wisdom and strength. Unless He helps us, our task is hopeless.”

  “Nothing is too difficult for Jehovah. I will pray, and I will call all the elders of Israel. We will all fast and pray until you bring Ariel back safely. Go now, and may the God of all mercies go with you!”

  ****

  Ariel struggled in the grip of the largest of her captors. He was a blunt-faced individual with eyes that literally glowed with evil. He laughed at her as she struggled fruitlessly. “You can fight all you want to, you delicious little Hebrew, but it will do you no good
.” He laughed at her and winked over her head at his companions who were watching, grinning broadly. “A tasty little bit, would you say?”

  “Yes,” returned one of his lieutenants, a squat, muscular individual with a scarred face. “Shame we have to give her to our commander. Why don’t we just not tell him?”

  Ariel’s captor, the leader of the band that had captured her, scowled. “That’s what I’d like to do, but if he found out about it, he’d skin us and leave us for the vultures.” He ran his hand over Ariel’s body and laughed at her tremors. “There’ll be plenty left for all of us when he gets through with you.”

  He dragged her to a tent. Night was coming on now. He shoved her inside and said, “You’ll stay here until our king comes. He likes young women like you. Some say his taste is a little crazy, but he’s the king after all. Don’t try to get away or you’ll regret it.”

  Ariel had fallen to the floor of the tent. She lay trembling as her captor disappeared. Her strength was gone, for the fear that had gripped her from the moment she had been seized had been like an open wound. She could only lie there, covering her head with her arm and weeping.

  Finally she sat up and looked around. Only a tiny candle burned to give light. It was obviously the tent used by the soldiers, for there was little in it except some sour-smelling garments, a water bag, and a few morsels of food that she could not even think of eating.

  She listened to the rough laughter and jeers outside her tent. Most of the talk was about her, about the soldiers telling each other what they would do to her, each one getting more vile than the last.

  All her life Ariel had been pampered, and the pride that had come with that was a natural thing. There in the darkness of the tent, with almost all hope gone, Ariel could not help but think of how badly she had treated people all of her life. Her behavior suddenly became crystal clear to her, and now that death and worse was facing her for the first time in her life, she saw herself as she really was. She remembered the incidents when she had been needlessly cruel to servants, and memories of how she had always demanded her own way no matter what the cost to others trooped through her mind. She tried to shut out the memories but couldn’t, and finally she covered her eyes with her hands and moaned, “I’ve been terrible all my life.” Desperately she longed for a chance to live and to become a different woman, but there seemed no chance of that now.

  The night wore on endlessly, and the soldiers’ voices finally faded as they lay down to sleep. One time her captor came, looked in on her, and leered. “We’re going to have a good time with you. You’d better rest now because you won’t get any sleep later.”

  The threat brought new waves of fear to Ariel. She began again to try to pray. She thought of Othniel and how badly she had treated him—always taunting him for his weaknesses—and now the image of his face clearly formed itself in her mind. She remembered a time when she had broken one of her father’s favorite vases. Caleb had been upset, and she had told him that Othniel had broken it. She had watched Othniel get beaten with a cane and had laughed at him when it was over.

  Finally, as the light of the candle flickered and threatened to go out, the daughter of Caleb began to pray. It was a broken prayer, and the words were barely formed. It was more of an endless moan as Ariel wept over her life. She began to cry out in her spirit. “O, God, I have been so terrible. My sins are before me and before you. Forgive me my transgressions…for the way I have treated you…and for my pride and the way I have treated others.”

  ****

  Othniel had driven the men hard. They had picked up the trail easily enough, for the enemy had made no attempt to hide it. The best trackers had pointed out the small footprints that had to be Ariel’s, and they had followed the trail hard until the light failed. That night Othniel assigned Akiah, the best tracker and one who moved as quietly as a cat, the task of finding the camp and coming back with a report. Akiah had grinned crookedly and left at once.

  The next day at camp Othniel led the men forward at a slower pace. He was fearful that the enemy might have left guards out. From time to time he cast a glance at Ardon, who had spoken not half a dozen words since they had left. The son of Caleb kept to himself, his face a mask, and Othniel was worried about him.

  When the sun began to sink in the west, Akiah came running up, his eyes bright with excitement. He pointed over in the direction from which he had come. “They’re up ahead,” he said. “I’ve been watching them. They’ve got Caleb’s daughter in a tent.”

  “Did she seem to be all right?” Othniel demanded quickly.

  “They let her out to walk, and she seemed all right. But they put her back in the tent. I think they’re saving her for something.”

  “Describe the camp to me,” Othniel commanded.

  Akiah began to draw a rough sketch in the dirt of how the tents lay. “Right here in the middle is the tent where she’s kept,” he said. “The other tents are scattered around, so we’ll have to go through them to get to her.”

  Othniel studied the rough drawing in the dust and questioned Akiah more closely. Finally he asked, “How many are there?”

  “Twenty, perhaps—maybe more.”

  “We can take them,” Blaniah spoke up eagerly. “We hit them hard with everything we’ve got when they’re least expecting it.”

  “They might kill her right off,” Ardon spoke up. “That’s the way they do things.”

  “Ardon is right,” Othniel said. “If we can get her out without a fight, it would be better. Less danger to her.”

  “I don’t know how you can do that,” Akiah said. “She’s right in the middle of the camp.”

  Othniel’s mind was working quickly. “We’ll get as close to the camp as we can. Are there sentries out, Akiah?”

  “Always a couple.”

  “We’ll have to silence them. Then I’m going in. I’ll get Ariel and bring her out. We may get fortunate enough to get her outside the camp before they notice.”

  “What if they do notice?” Ardon said.

  “Then we’ll fight to the last man,” Othniel said.

  “I’ll go in and get her. She’s my sister,” Ardon volunteered.

  “No, you won’t.” Othniel had never assumed authority over Ardon, but he knew that his cousin was not himself. “I let you come, but you’re under my command. You’ll stay with the others. Is that understood, Ardon?”

  Ardon stared at Othniel, but deep in his heart he knew that he was in no condition to carry out the delicate task of getting Ariel out of an armed camp. “Yes. That is best.”

  “We’ll wait until everyone is well asleep. Then, Akiah, you and another will go silence the sentries. When you have taken care of them, I’ll go in and get her.”

  ****

  Since the soldiers were leaving her alone, Ariel had some slight hope that she might be rescued. But it was only a small flicker. For two days the soldiers had taunted her, and the last thing she had heard was that the king would be here, without doubt, by noon the next day. She could not bear to think about what would happen then.

  She had tried to sleep, but sleep would not come. Almost without ceasing she had prayed for Jehovah to deliver her. She had heard the priest speak of Abraham and his great faith, and she had tried to summon up faith, but it was very difficult to do, trapped as she was.

  The hours seemed to creep by on leaden feet. It was very late now, past midnight, she knew. Suddenly a slight sound caught her attention and a rustling at the door of the tent. Anxiously she drew herself up and waited, thinking it was one of her captors. The candle had burned out. The only light was from the moon outside. A figure was there bent over and creeping in, crawling toward her. “Stay away from me,” she whispered fiercely, knowing this would avail nothing.

  “Ariel, I’ve come for you.”

  Ariel’s heart leaped for joy! “Othniel, it’s you!”

  Othniel was there beside her and whispered, “Don’t speak. We’ve got to get you away.”

  “I
prayed that you’d come.”

  “We’re not out of this yet. We’ve got to—” He stopped when a wild shout outside broke the silence. “We’ve got to fight our way out,” he said. “Stay close to me.”

  As soon as the two stepped outside, it was like stepping into a wild storm. The enemy soldiers were leaping to their feet, and the silence of the night was shattered by the clanging of swords and the screams of battle-mad men.

  In the darkness it was hard to see, but by the light of the fire that still burned, Othniel made out the forms of his men as they hacked and slashed at the enemy. Ardon was in the middle of it all, his sword cutting down the enemy like ripe wheat before a scythe. He had no care for himself but threw himself against a group of enemy soldiers in a suicidal fashion.

  “Stay here. We’ll have to kill them all,” Othniel said, shoving Ariel back into the safety of a clump of trees. Whirling, he drew his sword and joined in the battle.

  It was a fierce battle, worse than any Othniel had ever known, but it was a brief one. The enemy soldiers were cut down and several of his own men were killed, but in what seemed like no time he heard Akiah shouting, “That’s it! The last one!”

  Othniel was breathing hard. His eyes fell on Ardon, who lay still almost buried beneath a pile of his enemies. “Ardon!” Othniel shouted and ran forward. He pulled the bodies of the enemy aside and found that Ardon’s face and body were streaked with blood. “Ardon, are you all right?” He got no answer, and suddenly Ariel was there beside him.

  “Is he alive?” she cried.

  Othniel put his hand on Ardon’s throat. He felt an erratic pulse and said, “Yes, but he’s in bad shape.” He lifted his voice and said, “Make a litter. We’ve got to get away from here. We’ll have to carry the wounded.”

  Ariel stood back and watched as the men quickly fashioned litters for Ardon and two other wounded men. Then when Othniel said tersely, “Now, back to the camp quickly,” she put herself beside Othniel. Several times on that difficult journey back to the camp of Israel, she wanted to speak to him, to thank him for what he had done. But he scarcely looked at her and said nothing.