Rebekah's Treasure

by Sylvia Bambola

  At once, Ethan’s own dagger flashes in his hand. “If you hurt her, I’ll not spare any of you. We’ve both seen how the Romans can kill a man slowly, until he begs for death. Mark my words, Lamech, I’ll reserve such a treatment for you.”

  Lamech snorts with laughter. “I have no wish to hurt your wife. I have no interest in her except to get your attention. But it’s not even you I want. It’s the treasure. You cheated me, Ethan, and now you must make amends.”

  Ethan unties the money pouch at his waist. “Here, take what I have on me and let Rebekah go.”

  Perspiration drips from Lamech’s face. “I spotted you when your party was only two days from here. My men and I were working the trail, looking for suitable plunder, but never expected to find such a prize! And you, the big general, not knowing you were being followed! Ha! No wonder Jerusalem fell to the Romans.” Sweat drips into Lamech’s eyes making him squint, and I wonder if he sweats from fear or the heat.

  “But do you think I’d bother to follow you all the way here for the meager coins in your pouch? Or stay day and night lying in wait in the cave behind me with men who smell like goats and have the brains of Sodom apples?” He ignores his men when they grumble.

  “Yes, I see what useless fodder you’ve recruited,” Ethan says with a sneer.

  “Well, what could I do, eh? After you and your Masada Zealots killed all my other men I was forced to glean where I could. But never mind. It’s pointless to bring up all your transgressions.”

  Ethan ties the pouch back onto his belt. “You know the Zealots took most of the treasure to Masada. If you want it so badly go get it.”

  “Ah, Ethan, Ethan, why be difficult? I’ve heard the rumors. We both know that vast temple treasure is buried all over our land. But you never wanted to share. Well, now I think you will.”

  “There’s plenty of treasure in the tombs—Absalom’s, David’s, Queen Helena’s. There, I’ve told you what you wanted to know. You don’t need me now. Dig where I said and you’ll find enough treasure to satisfy even your greed.”

  Lamech laughs. “And all under the watchful eyes of the 10th Legion, eh?”

  “That’s where most of the treasure is.”

  “But not all, not all, Ethan, eh?”

  When my husband doesn’t answer, Lamech nicks me with his blade, drawing blood. I bite my lip not to cry out and give Lamech any pleasure, or give Ethan any grief. Blood drips down my neck onto the blade, then down my tunic. Lamech holds the bloody dagger in the air. “A little deeper, Ethan, and I could have killed her. What say you now?”

  “No, not all the treasure is in Jerusalem. There’s still some in the Valley of Achor.”

  “Achor?” Lamech brightens. “How much treasure?”

  “Two pots of silver coins.”

  “Pots? Small pots, large pots? What?”

  “I don’t know. But they’ll have to do. Because that’s all the treasure you and your men will get.”

  Lamech, still holding me tightly by the hair, yanks my head back hard, exposing my bloody neck. “You’re in no position to dictate terms. Don’t think I won’t kill your wife if you don’t give me what I want.”

  Ethan shakes his head. “You won’t kill her. She’s the only thing keeping you alive. If she dies, there’ll be nothing to stop me from coming after you.”

  Lamech smiles and releases my hair. “You’re a logical man. I respect that. And you’re right. What have I to gain by such an act? I’m a business man, not a cutthroat. My only desire is to make a meager living so, yes, I’ll accept the two pots. See how reasonable I am? I’ll return to Achor and wait for you there. You can bring your two sons to help you dig, but no one else. We’ll be watching.”

  Lamech shoves me away, making me stumble into the men behind me. He then pulls an object, about the size of his hand, from his tunic. It is wrapped in a dirty cloth. He throws it down to where Ethan stands and there it lands by the reeds. “In four days we’ll come for the coins.”

  “It will take us nearly two to get to Hyrcania, and who knows how long to find the pots. Do you think Eleazar left a trail in the dirt for us to follow? We need more time.”

  “Four days. That’s all you have.” He points to the object by the reeds. “It’s a bell. Carry it with you. And listen carefully. This is how it will be. When you’ve located the treasure, you will ring it, alerting me and my men we are to come and fetch it, and when we do, we will bring your wife with us and make the trade. Your wife for the two pots. But before the exchange, I’ll send one of my men to tell you where to meet us. I, not you, will pick the ground. And it will not be where you or your sons can lay a trap.”

  Lamech’s face tightens and his mouth forms an ugly sneer. “You must follow my instructions completely. And don’t even think of trying anything foolish. Remember, we’ll be watching your every move. Four days, you have four days. After that I’ll begin sending your wife back to you in pieces.”

  Ethan doesn’t flinch. He appears so calm and in control that it surely must unnerve Lamech. Only someone who knows him well would know how deeply distressed he is. I watch the fingers of one hand curl into a fist; watch him move his foot slightly as if bracing himself. “I will see you in Hyrcania,” he shouts as he picks up the wrapped bell near his feet. Then, after a quick glance at me, he disappears.

  The pull of the rope yanks me forward, chafing my neck and the wound Lamech gave me, and nearly causes me to stumble. My hands are tied in front, my neck roped, my tunic torn, my face and body caked with dirt. I could be one of Titus’s captives. At the other end of the rope is a thin, sinewy man with a face as pocked as the ground we travel. I suppose he yanks the rope from time to time to see if I’m still there, because he never looks back. I’m only an object to be transported, a burden like the water skins, food, weapons, and other supplies his companions carry in large bags over their shoulders.

  I glance upward, past the dusty, barren-looking mountains surrounding us, and see that the sun will soon slide into its resting place for the night. All day we’ve been traveling at a furious pace, along narrow footpaths and rocky mountain ledges, through ravines and around cliffs. It’s obvious Lamech wants to get to Hyrcania before Ethan. To secrete his men in advantageous positions? To prepare a trap? Will a man like Lamech be content with only two pots of silver? It’s doubtful. But I saw his face when Ethan entered the pool area. I saw the fear. Perhaps fear will force contentment. But will Ethan even give such holy treasure to a cutthroat and thief like Lamech? Knowing Ethan, it’s hard to imagine.

  “Faster!” Lamech growls, pushing one of his men forward with his hand. “We must get there before dark. Do you think I want that jackal to outflank us?”

  Oh, yes, this madman fears my Ethan. My gentle bear, my love. I’d find it amusing if I wasn’t so miserable. I run my dry tongue over parched, crusty lips. My mouth feels as though it’s lined with sand. My neck and feet bleed. I’m nearly faint from heat, from having eaten only one small handful of almonds and from having walked for hours without rest. The mountains squeeze me. They rise to the sky like monoliths, taking the air with them. I’m finding it hard to breathe. I’ve never been to this part of the Judean Desert. How could anything survive here? Still, I’m determined not to appear weak. I must not beg for food or water or rest. As I gather my remaining strength and courage like a poor gleaner who gathers the last kernels in the corners of a field, I remember that I’m in God’s hands, not theirs. It will be His decision if I live or die. I take quick shallow breaths trying to fill my starving lungs, and pray.

  Oh, Lord be strong in my weakness!

  “Wash yourself,” Lamech says, pointing to a water skin. “I dislike dirty women.” He grins. “I’ve seen how beautiful you can look.” Bending closer, he strokes my loose, tangled hair. “Especially this,” he says, letting the strands fall through his dirt caked fingers.

  We are in a cave just west of a strange shaped pathway that leads up to a high mountain and the remains of the Hyrcania fortr
ess. We arrived at sunset. After Lamech’s men spent time scouting the area for a suitable cave, they chose this one. Already a dozen oil lamps have been lit, flooding our quarters with light and allowing me to see that our cave is modest in size. One of the men unfurls several rush mats, kicks away the strewn rocks littering the floor, smoothes a large area with his foot, then spreads the mats out over the dirt. Another pulls wooden bowls from his sack, still another fills them with dried fruit and nuts, then places them, along with a small stack of flat bread, in front of the now sitting Lamech. Finally, one man pulls a pillow from a large woven bag, and after fluffing it, places it behind Lamech’s back for him to lean upon.

  If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I’d never believe it. This Lamech likes his comfort. I ignore his stares as I shake the dust from my hair, then comb it with my fingers, attempting to smooth out the tangles. Then I rip two small pieces of fabric from the hem of my tunic. Using one, I tie back my hair. The other I wet and begin washing, first the blood from my neck, then the dirt from my face and hands and arms.

  “Come, sit here by me,” Lamech shouts, though I’m only a few cubits away.

  I rise reluctantly, and walk to the rush mats, then take the space across from him. One of the men pours wine from a skin into a wooden cup and hands it to Lamech who downs it without a word, then holds it out for more. The man refills it, then walks away.

  “Eat, eat!” Lamech says to me. “You must be hungry.” He belches between words. “You took the journey well, without complaint. Not many women would, you know.” He grins widely, then lifts his cup for more wine.

  His men are gathered in a corner away from us, and have also begun eating their own nuts and fruit and bread, the keeper of the wineskin included. So when he’s too slow in rising to fill the cup, Lamech pulls his dagger and nicks him in the leg when he finally strolls over. “Next time I’ll hamstring you,” he hisses. “Then you’ll have reason to move like an old woman.”

  Lamech drains another cup, smacks his lips, and watches me eat my flatbread and handful of figs. I eat them slowly, my discomfort mounting under his constant gaze. Oh, God, You are my refuge and strength, a high tower in times of trouble.

  “I’m a man who knows how to live, am I not?” he says, breaking his silence and pointing to the pillow and mats and bowls. Not like your Ethan who would run off to war and leave you to provide for yourself.”

  In spite of myself I flinch, telling Lamech his barb has hit its mark. He snorts with laughter. “Yet you care for him. I have seen how you care.” He raises his cup, making the man with the wine skin scramble to his feet and rush over to fill it. When it’s filled, Lamech downs it in one gulp.

  Oh, God, You are my refuge and strength, a high tower in times of trouble.

  The pig belches again and leans toward me, nearly hitting me in the face with his empty cup. “To a man, wine is a necessity of life. It gives him pleasure and comfort. Perhaps before I release you, I’ll sample the wine Ethan finds so pleasing.” Then he yawns. “But not tonight. I’m worn from the journey.” With that he rises to his feet, picks up the beautiful silk pillow, and staggers off to an empty space against the wall, leaving me alone on the mat.

  Oh, God, You are my refuge and strength, a high tower in times of trouble.

  I’ve lost track of time. We’ve been here for days, days that seem as endless as the Judean Desert itself. But God has been gracious. No one has molested me, and I’ve been given all the food and water I want.

  I sit against the wall watching Lamech and his men. Their heads are together. Lamech’s voice is raised. He’s talking to the two men who have just returned from a mission. Did it have something to do with Ethan? I close my eyes trying to recount my time here. Was this the day Ethan was to surrender the treasure? I’ve slept so much that it’s hard to know exactly. Let me think . . . a day and a half to walk here, another one lost to sleep . . . or was that also a day and a half? . . . then another day . . .”

  “It seems your husband doesn’t care for you as much as I thought.”

  I open my eyes and see Lamech standing over me, a dagger in his hand. “He’s taking too long to find the treasure. He has yet to sound the bell. Is it a trick, do you think? Does he plan to cheat me again? Or maybe he hopes to give his friends at Masada more time to arrive, for surely he has sent the others in your group for help. But all this tells me he doesn’t believe me, doesn’t believe I will cut you and send the pieces to him, one at a time.” He bends closer, his foul stench nearly making me gag. “So now I must show him that I meant what I said.” He raises the large ornate dagger into the air. When it catches the light from the cave entrance and glints, I close my eyes and pray.

  HYRCANIA AND JUDEAN DESERT 70 A.D.

  CHAPTER 12

  “Father, we’ve turned the dirt between every building in Hyrcania,” Benjamin says, pausing from his labors to look up at me from the hole he is digging. “I think we must concede that the treasure is not between the buildings.”

  Aaron, who is next to him, continues scooping dirt furiously with his curved stone, showing no sign of conceding anything. We have no shovels with us this time, and that makes the work slower, harder, more tedious.

  I wipe sweat from my brow, smearing grit across my forehead. Benjamin was right. We’ve been digging for three days without success. As Lamech instructed, only my sons and I are here in Hyrcania. I’ve charged Demas with the care of Esther, along with the other two women, at En Gedi; while Skaris and some of the other captives have gone to Masada for help.

  “Our allotted time has run out,” Aaron says, tossing another stonefull of dirt over his shoulder. His hands are blistered from using the coarse stone these many days. All our hands are. “Perhaps Lamech never intended to hurt Mama. Perhaps he meant only to frighten you.”

  “If Lamech has not hurt your mother it’s only because Hashem has restrained him. But we must find the treasure soon, for I have no wish to test Hashem’s kindness any further.”

  Benjamin tosses his digging stone to the ground and climbs out of the hole. “Then we can’t afford to waste time. Perhaps you were right all along, Father. Perhaps the word on the scroll meant ‘chambers’ and not ‘buildings’ as Aaron and I thought.”

  We’ve been digging since dawn. I squint at the overhead sun to determine how much daylight we have left. We must make every moment count. The part of the scroll describing the location is difficult to read. It states that two pots of silver are buried three cubits deep between two . . . what? Buildings? Chambers? Foundations? All were possibilities. I’ve always favored “chambers,” though the past three days I’ve prayed I was wrong. There were fewer buildings than chambers. And what chambers? Where? The number of rooms and chambers on the summit were endless. Lamech’s patience would never hold while we searched between them all. And unlike Aaron, I’m fully persuaded Lamech has every intention of harming Rebekah if I don’t deliver the treasure. Skaris should return soon with Josiah. But will it be in time to save my wife?

  My heart thumps as I think of Rebekah in that pig’s hands. “Yes, it’s time to rethink our search,” I say to Benjamin, who stands frowning by my side. I know he hears the desperation in my voice. And just as I signal Aaron to stop digging, I see two men approaching in the distance. One carries a basket. When I alert my sons, Aaron quickly scrambles out of the ditch. And by the time the men reach us, our weapons are drawn.

  “From Lamech,” a tall, nearly toothless man says, dropping the covered basket at my feet. “And he said to tell you that this time tomorrow you’ll be getting another basket. In truth, you’ll be getting a basket every day until you deliver the treasure.”

  Aaron raises his dagger and steps forward.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” the toothless man says, out of breath from the climb up the summit, but nervous, too, as he eyes Aaron’s weapon. “If anything happens to us, if we don’t return safe and whole to Lamech by nightfall, he said he’ll kill the woman known as Rebekah.”

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p; “Then go! You’ve delivered your message!” I gesture with my dagger for the men to depart.

  “One more thing,” the tall, toothless man says, running his tongue nervously over his dry lips, “After you find the treasure and ring the ’ bell, you are to carry it down to the base of the mountain where the crumbling aqueduct intersects the path.”

  “And how do you expect us to do that? Suppose the pots are large? How can only three of us carry them all the way down that treacherous, steep path?” I squint my eyes with anger, and step closer to the man.

  He and his companion back away. “Those are Lamech’s orders, not mine. But I’d advise you to do what he says, that is if you want to see that pretty wife of yours again in one piece.” Both men continue backing away, and only when they’ve gone a good distance do they turn their backs on us and run.

  My sons and I let them go their way, then stand for some time staring down at the basket, for no one has the courage to look inside. Finally, I square my shoulders, and taking a deep breath, remove the lid. Both Aaron and Benjamin gasp. Had my throat not been nearly closed with fear, my gasp would have joined theirs. Slowly, I lower my bulky frame and squat beside the container, then I reach in and pull out a handful of Rebekah’s long, beautiful, auburn hair.

  “Father, you can’t keep up this pace. It is time for you to rest in the tower and keep an eye on those rogues. That’s just as important as our digging.”

  I ignore Benjamin and continue scraping dirt. We’ve changed our search. All afternoon we’ve dug between one chamber after another. There are so many. How are we ever to find the treasure before this time tomorrow? The thought of receiving another basket has made me dig at a furious pace. My sons, too. We have rested little today, having gone to the tower but twice.