by Ann Burton
“What do you wish?” the guard asked.
“I carry a message for the leaders,” I told him. When he held out his hand, I shook my head. “It is not that sort of message.”
The guard’s hand went to his sword. “Who are you, and what manner of fool entrusts a woman with a message for our leaders?”
I seized his wrist in my hand and felt something flow from me into him. “You will take me to them.”
“Yes, lady. This way.” The guard meekly turned, and we followed him inside.
“How did you do that?” my husband murmured to me.
“I did nothing.” I looked ahead into a large chamber, where many men in fine robes were gathered around the remains of a meal. The tribal leaders of the Hebrews were important men, judging by the garments, but they were not eating well. Food lay neglected all over the tables and on their plates.
“A messenger, Adoni,” the guard announced.
I walked in, but the men’s eyes went to my husband behind me.
“What message do you bring, Jeth, son of Lappidoth?” one of the men who recognized my husband asked.
“I regret to say that I bring only the messenger.” He gestured to me. “My wife, Deborah.”
Some of the men chuckled, while others frowned. One elderly leader rose to his feet to address me. “You have word for us from a kinsman, wife of Lappidoth?”
“I bring the word of the Lord God Jehovah,” I said in a clear, strong voice. “Hear me, men of Israel, for your time of waiting and suffering is at an end.”
Nearly all the men laughed at this, and I felt Jeth stiffen beside me. I could offer him no comfort, nor could I berate the men for their disrespect. Neither served my purpose, which had to be met here and now.
The elderly leader did not find my words amusing, but he did move forward and stare hard at me. “Who are you, woman, and how dare you speak of the word of God?”
“I am Deborah, daughter of Gesala,” I said, and ignored the gasps that raced around the room. “Granddaughter of Ehud, and the last of his line. The Lord your God has sent me to you to speak His will.”
The elderly leader was now standing before me, his eyes narrow and suspicious. “You are lying. Gesala was killed as a child in Ephraim.”
Without warning I put my left hand upon his brow. I felt him flinch, then go still under my touch.
“You know yourself that she was not, Dareus of Megiddo,” I said as the dream came over me. “You had the confession of her abduction and enslavement from a raider you caught on your land. He confessed to his part in the raid that killed her father and uncles, and snatched her from the tribe. He hoped it would entice you to spare his life. Instead, you slew him and kept the secret to yourself. You were a young and ambitious leader in those days, and you feared the coming of another leader who might take your power from you: Gesala’s child.”
Dareus staggered back, stunned and speechless.
I looked at the men who were no longer laughing. “Who else wishes to know the truth? I will speak it for you. I will see it in you.”
The men exchanged glances, and one came to lead Dareus away from me. No one spoke.
“Do you all fear a mere woman?” Jeth asked softly. “You were eager to laugh at her. Have none of you the spine to stand her touch?”
“No man wishes to challenge a lady,” one of the younger tribesmen said, “but I have nothing to hide.” He strode over to stand before me. “See into me, woman, and if what you discover is true, then I will listen to your message.”
I grasped his wrist. “Eru, son of Bora, tribal leader of Rameh, and his second wife, Coran. You do not hide, but you have kept silent and let others believe something that is not true. The men here think you come to sit as leader while your father is away, but he is here in this town, abed and dying. You go to him every night instead of sleeping to hold council with what has been said. You lied because he instructed you to, so that you could be his eyes and ears while his are failing. You are a devoted son, but you should not fear your father’s death. He goes to a better place before the new moon, and you will be made leader in his stead.”
Eru’s eyes closed for a moment. “May it be so.” He looked back at the other men. “She speaks the truth. My father is not in the hill country, as you have thought. He has the wasting sickness and is home now, with my mother caring for him.”
The room fell silent as Eru took his place among the leaders. The men seemed not to know what to do.
At last Dareus spoke in a withered voice. “I always knew you would come. I have had bad dreams about killing that raider and keeping my silence all these years. Speak, then, Gesala’s daughter, and tell us of the punishment Jehovah intends to visit upon our people.”
“Not a punishment, Dareus, but a champion. He comes journeying from the far north country, even now as I speak to you. He is coming, and nothing will stop him.” I looked into the elderly man’s sad eyes. “He is the leader you have been awaiting, brought up by Jehovah to lead us to victory as my grandfather was eighty years ago. His name is Barak of Kedesh.”
“I know of this man,” Jeth said, “and so must many of you. He is a dedicated warrior with many years of experience.”
“When this Barak arrives, how will he banish King Jabin’s armies from our land?” one man sneered. “By the word of Jehovah? Or by his will alone? Or does your woman mean to give him some of her power?”
“You will give Barak the means by readying forces for him to lead against Sisera and his armies,” I told them. “He will need twenty thousand men, armed and ready, to journey to Ephraim within the week. You will provide him with these men.”
Many of the leaders made sounds of disbelief, but Dareus called for silence.
“Lady,” he pleaded, “twenty thousand are all the battle-experienced men we have.”
“The Lord God has commanded you, Dareus. If Barak does not have these men at ready, we will lose this land to Sisera and his forces, and our people will die under their swords. For whether or not you are ready to go to war, they are coming for us.” The power sizzling through me ebbed, and I sagged back against Jeth. “Take me away from here now, husband. Take me home.”
Jeth put an arm around me and led me from the room. As we walked out of the house, young Eru appeared and stopped us.
“Dareus has commanded the tribes to make their men ready for this Barak. I go now to my father, but I will advise him to do the same.” He peered at me. “You truly are the last of Ehud’s line?”
“She is,” Jeth said, his tone one of warning, “and exhausted now, so please step aside and let us pass.”
“I wish only to express my gratitude for your lady seeing the end of my father’s suffering,” Eru said urgently. “My mother and I have long worried that he might linger in agony for months, as some do with this sickness. It will be a comfort to him to know he is going home soon, and for that I thank you, Lady Deborah.” He tried to smile at Jeth. “You are surely blessed. Do you need an escort back to Ephraim? I can provide you men.”
“I thank you, no,” Jeth said. “We will spend the night at an inn, and go back in the morning, when the roads are safer.”
“Then Jehovah watch over you both,” Eru said, and bowed before hurrying off.
The inn at which Jeth found a room for us was little better than Dhiban’s had been in Hazor. I was too weary to care, however, and barely made it to the sleeping mat before I collapsed.
“Does seeing like this always exhaust you so?” Jeth said as he covered me with a blanket the innkeeper had given him.
“It is easier to sleep and dream than to summon a waking dream,” I told him. His expression was still closed, and I wished desperately that I could make the last day vanish. “Forgive me for my demanding manner, but after last night, I know I am no longer free to do as I wish. I must see this through, and there will not be time for explanations and pretty words.”
“Why did you not at least tell me that this was a holy matter?” he asked me.
“You had me wondering if you had gone mad.”
“I knew you would doubt my words if I spoke of seeing this, so I had to show you.” I rubbed my eyes. “Just as I had to show them.”
“Next time, trust me enough to tell me, and I vow I will believe you.” He stretched out before me and pulled me against his chest, tucking my head under his chin. “I am your husband now, Deborah. We must share our burdens. Will you try to do that for me?”
I nodded.
“Good.” He kissed the top of my head. “Now sleep. In the morning, we shall go home.”
CHAPTER
19
Jeth roused me just after dawn to make the return journey to Ephraim. He obtained a bundle of food from somewhere in town for us, but I felt too tired and worried to eat much of it.
“Do you know when Barak will arrive?” he asked me as we left Rameh.
“Soon. Before the Sabbath. He will come to the farm alone, at midday.” I thought of Jeth’s mother and groaned. “With us gone and no word, Urlai will be so worried. Forgive me.”
“I suspect the priest went to see my mother and told her of our leaving,” my husband said. “If he did not, she will surely go to him.” He pushed a wedge of bread and a raisin cake into my hands. “If you grow thin, she will nag me for not taking better care of you.”
My face grew hot. “It is my duty to care for you, and I have made a poor job of it.”
Jeth stopped the wagon and turned to me. “There is more coming ahead. You do not say, but there must be. Perhaps Jehovah brought us together so that I could care for you while you do His work.”
I looked at the food in my hands. Only two moons past would I have been overjoyed to have such fare. “You are not angry with me?”
“How can I be? You have done no wrong. Indeed, I think you are but an instrument of the Lord.” He put his arm around me. “I may be selfish enough to wish He had put this burden on the shoulders of another man’s wife, but I love you, and it pains me to see you suffer.”
“I chose my burden,” I admitted. “I did not have to do this. It is my will as well as His.” I looked up into his kind, handsome face. “I did ask for more time for us, but it was not to be. Events are moving quickly, and if we are not ready…” I did not wish to think of what would happen to Israel if Barak and I failed to carry out our mission.
“I shall do whatever I can to help,” Jeth promised, and slapped the reins on the oxen’s broad backs. “You have only to say.”
I nodded and lifted the raisin cake to my lips, forcing myself to eat.
Urlai met us at the farm road, where evidently she had been waiting and watching. Jeth helped her up to sit beside me, and drove on to the house. My mother-in-law embraced me without a word and held me in her arms until we stopped again.
“All is well,” she told Jeth. “The shepherds are tending to the animals, and they tell me one of the new ewes delivered twins last night with no difficulty.” Urlai climbed down and held out her hand to me. “Come, Deborah. Come inside now.”
I went in with my mother-in-law as Jeth drove on to the stables. She had hot food waiting, and gently bullied me into drinking some soup.
“The priest came down after you left Palma yesterday to tell me of your journey to Rameh.” She sighed. “I confess I was quite upset at first. In my anger, I may have said some foolish things. The holy one forgave me, of course, but I will have to make a proper offering and ask His forgiveness.” She hesitated for a moment. “It is true, then? You have seen the one who will lead our armies?”
I nodded. “He comes to me even now to receive the word of God.” I leaned my brow against my palm. “Sisera comes, too. His armies are only a few days hence.” I closed my eyes. “If they are not stopped, they will destroy everything in their path.”
“Then you do whatever is needed, my daughter.” Urlai’s hand stroked over my hair. “For this you were born, and for this you were brought back to us.”
I prayed she was right, for if I had made the wrong choice, my mistake would cost our people everything.
I had only a few days to ready myself for Barak’s coming, and in an eerie sense it was much like preparing for my wedding—except now there would be no feast, and no celebrating.
Israel was going to war.
After three tense days, when I expected the warrior from the north to appear at any moment, my mother-in-law suggested I undergo another ritual cleansing, to which I agreed. She summoned some of the older women from the village to help. They prayed together over me as I was bathed, and stayed to offer comfort. Many were old enough to remember Gesala, and told their stories about her.
“Ehud’s daughter was the kindest of women,” the weaver’s wife said. “She came to my mother when my brother Shami was only a babe, and although he was the smallest and weakest of her sons, she gave Mother hope. We were poor, and so I did not altogether believe her when she said that my brother would grow to become a strong and important man. Years passed, and Shami was among those who established the eastern trade routes. Shami grew to be taller and broader than any of our brothers, and wealthy enough to marry a merchant’s daughter. Today he provides for our widowed mother and poor kinfolk, as well as for his own wife and seven children.”
“So it was with my older sister’s husband,” the potter’s wife said. “Gesala warned my brother-in-law not to travel into Taanach when the weather was fair and all seemed well for the journey. He heeded her words, thank Jehovah, and a few hours later a sudden storm rose in the east. That day two caravans were lost when floodwaters washed out the road.”
Eleen came into the women’s quarters. “Lady Urlai, there is a man at the door asking to see the master.”
“I will speak to him.” My mother-in-law had seen me flinch, and she touched my shoulder. “Likely it is only a trader or one of the men from the village.”
I knew from the cold shiver that passed through me that it was not, but I waited until Urlai had gone before I excused myself and followed her.
The room where visitors were received at the front of the house had two entryways, both hung with airy curtains of wooden beads, and I stood outside one to listen to the voices of Urlai and the visitor.
“I have come to see the truth-seer,” the voice that had haunted my terrible dreams was saying to Urlai. “You will fetch him to me.”
“Do I look like a servant to you, Adon?” my mother-in-law snapped. “For I assure you, I am not.”
“Then send one of your girls,” the man said reasonably. “But I am not leaving until I speak with him.”
Urlai sighed. “My son is a farmer, and while he tries always to see the truth, he is not the one who…sent for you.”
Wooden beads rattled as I stepped through the entry curtain. “I am the one who summoned you.”
He stood, straight as an oak, and looked into my eyes. His were black as night, and harder to fathom. Although I knew the sky outside to be clear and bright, I heard a distant rumble of thunder, and suppressed a shudder.
“I am sent by the One and True God,” he said simply. “I am Barak, leader of Kedesh.”
I did not want to speak to this man. I wanted to run out of the room and call for Jeth, and hide until my husband made him leave. Even as those cowardly thoughts formed, I saw my hand move and heard my mouth say, “Sit down, please.”
We sat at the table facing each other, and I waited for him to speak. He took a few moments to study me, and I knew his sharp eyes took in every detail of my countenance.
“You have white in your hair, but you are so young.” It seemed to confuse him. For a moment the man I had seen in my dreams studied me. “You are the truth-seer. A woman.”
“Perhaps my son should have a word with you,” Urlai, who was hovering behind me, said. Her eyes went bright with ire. “I will summon Jeth.”
“Yes, Mother, I think that would be wise. I will entertain General Barak until my husband comes.”
“I am not a general,” Barak said.
; “Not yet,” I agreed. I saw Urlai speak to Eleen, who hurried off, but my mother-in-law lingered at the door as if reluctant to leave me alone with the stranger. “Mother, our visitor seems tired after his long journey. Perhaps you could arrange some refreshment for him?”
Reminded of her duties as hostess, Urlai nodded and went off toward the kitchens.
“You are Deborah, wife of Lappidoth?” Barak asked me.
“I am.” I could see that he was not a young man, perhaps some ten years older than me, and his face and arms showed the scars of battle and a life spent fighting in the hot sun. His path had been much harder than mine, so it was easy to understand his suspicion. “You have been dreaming of me.”
“I have.” He seemed uncomfortable admitting so. “I woke with your name on my lips six days past, and knew only that I had to come here.” His dark brows drew together. “I left behind my family, my brothers, everything I have to come here. But it cannot be for you. There is a mistake.”
“You would trust in the vision sent to you by our Lord enough to make such a journey, but deny that a woman could be the one you seek?” I wondered if Jehovah had made the right choice in this man. “You were chosen for the strength of your faith, Barak, as well as your experience at war.”
“Why were you chosen?”
“I am the granddaughter of Ehud.” I saw the shock of that cross his features like a flicker of light. “And a woman. And just married. And, until recently, a slave to a Canaanite in Hazor.” I folded my arms. “Imagine for a moment how it is to walk my path.”
“However much I despise King Jabin and the Canaanites, I cannot begin a war on the word of a woman,” Barak argued. “Even if you are as you say the last of Ehud’s line, you have no experience of such things.”
“I am only the messenger, Adon,” I reminded him. “The word is that of Jehovah.”
He paced the length of the room. “I knew this was madness. My wife tried to persuade me to reason, but I could not resist the call of the dream. It was as if I had been possessed by demons. Now I must listen to you to make war on the Canaanites.”
