Temper The Wind (Ancient Israel)

by Boyd, Mary Ellen

  Pelet had been so certain.

  Javan’s nails cut into his palms. He forced himself to unclench his hands. “He was not thrown out of the camp, if that is what you wonder. However, when the army separated and we all went home, as you see, Taleh left the camp with me.” If it would help, he would plead. “My lords, I am the one who found her. I claimed her before anyone had a chance to see her. Ask her. Ask my men.” He searched the judges’ faces. No one nodded, no one smiled. Their eyes gave nothing away.

  Who did they believe?

  “You cannot know, or perhaps you do not remember, what war sounds like. There are screams all around, doors being smashed in, weapons clashing together, shouting, the roar of fire. I cannot deny without exception Pelet’s claim that we entered houses assigned to him. I can only say I remember it differently.” He did not see that it mattered now, but he managed not to say that. “Taleh has been registered as my wife. I saved the sheet with her virgin’s blood. I can present it, but her virginity is not the question. Our first child has been born. All of you are witnesses that I followed the Law perfectly. You have seen.”

  He met each man’s eyes down the bench. None looked away. Was that a good sign?

  “She was found with him. Perhaps she wanted to go.”

  He did not see who asked the question. Maybe it had not come from the elders at all. Outrage seared his veins. “She had been bound! The marks still show on her wrists. I know my wife. She would never leave me. She was kidnapped! He –” Javan caught himself, and went on more calmly. “That man who stands before you stole her from my house, bound her, and dragged her off.”

  Eli cleared his throat. His tone was level, authoritative. “I understand she was not in fact bound when you found her. We all remember Merab, and what she did to get away. Why would you not think your wife could do the same thing?”

  White spots blurred Javan’s vision for a moment. He blinked, clearing away rage. They had to ask, he reminded himself. Yet his throat was tight. “Merab and Taleh are different as night is from day. You have all seen my wife, you have watched her work to learn our laws. I spent the winter teaching her our letters, and helping her start to read. Did Merab ever make that effort? Taleh is not Merab. She did not leave of her own will.”

  The men leaned toward each other, conferring in soft voices. The crowd waited with remarkable patience. Pelet stood where he was, and even with the armed guards at his side, even after Obed’s testimony, even after Javan’s plea, he looked undaunted.

  Javan stared at the elders still huddled together. Nothing gave him a clear view of the debate going on in hushed tones. They leaned together, gesturing into the circle formed by their benches. Fists pounded into open palms, arms swung wide, but the voices came only as murmurs.

  How much longer? A two-fold decision, ownership or kidnapping. Did Pelet’s accusations of first claims carry weight?

  Swollen from heat and standing, his feet ached and chafed against the leather straps of his sandals. He looked around. The women had taken their children home for the midday meal, but a goodly number of people still remained.

  Who minded the shops? Most of the shopkeepers and craftsmen stood nearby, or leaned against the walls of houses. Sweat glistened on their faces. Javan could feel it, tight and sticky, on his own. The sun glared down from its zenith, having eaten all the shade that might have offered some relief.

  The village elders rose, and Javan stood rigid. They pushed the benches back against the stone wall.

  With much shifting of robes and slow, ponderous movements, the older men took their places again. They turned to Eli, who got back to his feet. He faced Javan and Pelet where they stood to one side, close but not too close.

  “Not just one, but two questions were brought before us. First of all, to whom does the woman Taleh belong? The second question depends on the answer to the first, namely, which man is guilty of kidnapping. If the woman rightfully belonged to Pelet, the charge of kidnapping would not apply. If to Javan, as the woman was found in Pelet’s hand, on the testimony of two witnesses, the charge could stand.”

  The answer! What was the answer? They all knew the questions. Javan’s heart pounded against the wall of his chest. His breath came in short, rasping pants.

  “The Law permits a man to take a wife from the captives under conditions. We are all witnesses that Javan met these. Was he entitled to take her as wife? This we must leave to Jephthah’s wisdom. He permitted the woman to leave the camp of the army under Javan’s protection; therefore, we state before all onlookers today that the decision on the ownership of the woman Taleh was established before she came to our village.”

  Javan’s knees buckled. Obed grabbed his shoulders and pulled him upright, then pounded his back with excitement. Javan found his legs again and locked them to hold himself tall.

  She was his!

  He rubbed a trembling hand across his face, and saw Obed’s smile. He wanted to laugh, to shout his gladness to the heavens, to dance around the gathered men in rejoicing. Instead, he stood in his place, feeling the glow burning through his very veins, bursting from his heart to light up his eyes. Sentence was pronounced, but he did not hear.

  A wild scream of rage and terror slammed cut through his dreams. He swung around and leapt away just as Pelet hurtled at him and lashed out with a sharp knife. Where did he get it? Javan braced for another attack.

  Men lunged upon Pelet from all sides, burying him beneath thrashing bodies, flailing arms and legs.

  A heavy hand thumped on his shoulder. He whirled, still battle-ready.

  Obed looked at him calmly. “It is enough. Let the others deal with him. You have only a little time before the stoning. Someone else needs you now.”

  Her son squirmed beside her and Taleh came instantly alert. His every sound amazed her, his soft squeaks and funny sighs. She had slept little last night, whether from the distraction of her child or from the restlessness of her husband, she did not know.

  Something was happening in the village. She could sense it. It hummed in the air, the strange quiet in the village, Sarah and Leah’s whispers outside the doorway, Javan’s odd absence.

  She pushed her worries from her mind and cradled her baby, to have him turn immediately to the smell of milk. She would not let anything spoil her time with her child. His eagerness amazed her, how anxiously he searched for the nipple and how excited he was when he found it. She relaxed and watched her son nurse at her breast. The tugging feeling surprised and delighted her. How wondrous this all was, that she had grown a child within her, and that her body could nourish it even now. She counted fingers again, and toes. She traced the faint line of an eyebrow, and smiled at his scowl. How dare she interrupt a meal?

  A laugh bubbled up. If only Javan were here to see this!

  No. She would not worry. It was not good for her milk, Sarah had told her.

  As though her thoughts had produced him, the curtain opened and Javan stepped inside.

  His face was somber, but his steps were light. She stared at him, feasting her eyes on his face. He took another step inside the room, letting the curtain fall behind him, and stared back at her.

  “Come, Javan. Come look!”

  Javan bent close, a proud father, to share Taleh’s amazement. She reached out and stroked a hand along his beard. Her thumb slid across his lips in their secret game, and he kissed it, knowing she expected him to.

  Javan smiled at the babe in her arms, and sat down on the edge of the bed. His gaze moved over her face, an intensity in his eyes. “I must tell you what has happened.”

  Taleh watched his smile fade. A tightness gripped her heart. Her mouth dried up. Her arms tightened around her child. She wanted to push time back to the happy moment just past and hold it there, capture it like a bird and imprison it.

  “Taleh, the village elders called a trial this morning. That is where I have been.”

  His son gave a frustrated squeak, interrupting him. He waited while Taleh worked the nippl
e from the tiny, grasping mouth. Javan slid his rough hands under the baby, easing the little bundle away with hands that looked much too large, turning him to the other breast. He said nothing until their child was happily at work.

  “Taleh, the village elders found Pelet guilty of kidnapping. In this land, we have strict punishments for crimes. Kidnapping merits the death penalty. Pelet is being taken out of the village even now.”

  Taleh stared at him, wide-eyed.

  “I have to go now, to help enforce the penalty.” He paused. “Pelet will be stoned.”

  “You are going to stone him?” Taleh was aghast.

  Javan frowned at her. “Taleh, you should want this. He deserves to die, and die he will. I do not want either of us to lie awake nights, worrying if he will come back. He knew the laws. He knew what he risked when he took you.” He rested his hand on her cheek. “You could have died. My son could have died.”

  “Yes, I know. I wondered several times if it might end that way. But, Javan . . .” her voice trailed away. They would execute one of their own for her? How very strange it was, and how tragic, that a man of this country would die in place of her. “I do not want you to have to bear this for the rest of your life. I hardly expected another to die to avenge me.” The past year’s pain was still there. It would take time, she knew, for it to fade, but it would. Leah had told her about the villagers and how they waited for the birth.

  They would execute one of their own for her?

  Javan gave her a sharp look. “Taleh, we must live by law here. We must stand together, or we will be like . . . Ammon. Now, I must go. When I return, it will have been done. You are my wife, and I will keep you safe. Remember that, while I am gone. I will do whatever it takes to protect you.” He pressed his lips to her forehead and whispered something, and then he left.

  Had her ears deceived her? He had not really said what she thought she heard, had he? She trembled so hard she feared the baby would wake, and carefully laid him down.

  Could it be true?

  She stared at the light coming through the slats of the lattice. Please, she prayed to Javan’s God, please let it be true. While the sun chased shadows across the floor, she heard his whisper echo in her mind.

  She would have to banish the last fear that haunted her. She would take her happiness in her hand, and risk everything. Perhaps his God would deign to hear her, and grant her this most important request.

  And then Javan was there, bringing in the scent of fields and freshly turned dirt and satisfaction. She could only gaze at him, wide-eyed and hopeful.

  He smiled, and she truly saw something different in his smile. He crossed the room to sit on the bed where he had been not so very long before. She could not look away. He gently stroked the dark tumbled curls off her forehead, then pulled her into his arms and rested her head against his shoulder.

  “Oh, wife.” His voice vibrated with warmth that wrapped around her as surely as his arms. She leaned back to look at his eyes, dark and tender, and saw those whispered words there. “You have been so patient with me.” An odd shyness lurked behind his words. “I have never told you this before. It does not come easily to me. And then you were gone, and I thought I would never have a chance to tell you. I looked for you, and the guilt tortured me.”

  He took a deep breath, as if to fortify himself. “Taleh, I love you. Not just for giving me a son, but for you yourself, for the joy you brought me, for teaching me to smile again. Even if you had been barren, I would still have loved you.”

  Tears filled Taleh’s eyes, clogged her throat. To hear it out loud, to know those words she had wondered at. “Oh, Javan.” Her words trembled, weak and inadequate. “I wanted to hear you say that for so very long. I have wanted to tell you myself. I love you, too. I rejoice that you found me. I am sorry I did not tell you long ago.”

  The moment had come. Her courage almost failed her. There would never be a better time. She soaked up the love shining from his eyes to give her courage. Only one thing remained to make her life complete.

  Fear battled with need.

  If she loved him, and she did – Oh! how she did – and if she trusted him – how could she doubt it? – there was no room for this one fear.

  “Javan, if I asked you . . .” her courage failed.

  He smiled with clear, glowing eyes, his emotion finally freed. “Ask. You know I will grant you anything in my power.”

  Such a promise! If she asked this of him, she knew she would deprive him of a right many men, not just in his land but in her own, took for granted. She did not know of any woman who had dared.

  Take the chance, her heart urged.

  She blurted it out, unable to wait for the proper phrase to come. “Will you never take another wife? I do not think I could endure it. Can you be happy with just me?”

  Javan felt stunned. The puzzle finally fell into place, the haunted look in her eyes that she thought she hid from him, the strange friction that troubled her friendship with Leah. How stupid he had been not to see, that she should have carried this worry for so long!

  He set her away just a little, enough to hold her gaze while he still held her arms. “Taleh, you must never keep such things inside. I thought you knew I would not – but how could you? I tell you the truth, since the first moment I saw you, there has been no one else.”

  “No?”

  He smiled at her whisper. “No one. There never will be. You say you ask for a boon. This is not a boon to me. I give you my promise freely, I swear to you by everything I hold sacred, you are all I will ever need.”

  Had she thought only moments ago that her heart could hold no greater happiness? She felt it stretch, widening out, catching a joy that was bottomless, boundless, endless. Tossed by war, buffeted by death and strife, Taleh felt like a seed drifting at last onto safe ground. She nestled in his strong arms, cradled and protected by all she had ever dreamed, now come true.

  Her home was here, in the warmth of Javan’s love.