The moment of ethereal silence shattered as the warbled call of a night-bird brought me back to earth. “We should . . . go,” I said, disoriented and breathless.
With the ghost of a smile, he nodded and continued walking, the oil lamp guttering low as he moved.
Grasping for conversation to distract from whatever had just happened between us, I blurted, “Of which tribe are you?”
“Naftali. And you?”
“My father is joined to Yehudah by marriage. And my sisters married fellow tribesmen. They moved south into the highlands near where my friend Alanah and her husband Tobiah settled with their own family last year.” It still pained me to remember the sight of their wagon as it disappeared from view, knowing I’d likely never see my red-haired friend again. Without her protection, I’d never have survived Jericho.
“Ah, yes. Those highlands are beautiful. When we passed through in the spring kalanit flowers flooded the hillsides with red. With such a large portion of land and those wide pasturelands, the tribe of Yehudah is fortunate indeed.”
“You’ve traveled there?”
“I’ve walked from the southern desert to the edge of the sea, to the far north almost to Damascus, and nearly everywhere else within the land promised to Avraham. I was part of Yehoshua’s surveying team for the past few months. ”
“You were?” I layered my palms on the center of my chest. “How I wish I could see what you’ve seen.”
“Do you?” His voice arched with humor. “Even though many of those places are still volatile? Bandits are common. And even a few Anakim still roam the coastlands.”
I restrained a shiver at the reminder of Kothar, the giant descendent of Anak who’d taken part in my abduction from the Hebrew encampment—the first step on the path that led to Jericho.
“Of course,” he continued, “our forces have done much to push out the enemy, but there are still many Canaanite-held cities.”
“Will they attack?”
“I don’t think so, at least not for now. We’ve intercepted a few messages from the city-states to Egypt, begging for help and reinforcements, but so far it seems Pharaoh has little interest in engaging us.”
“I would imagine Egypt has a long memory, and it was not fifty years ago that we left them in tatters.” I marveled at how easily I’d slipped into conversation with Darek. Other than Ora, my father, and Eitan, I had so few people to talk to, and Yuval might as well be mute for all he spoke to me. Despite the fact that Darek was a stranger, I found curiosity bubbling to my lips. “What is the most beautiful place you’ve seen?”
He stopped again, the full moon highlighting contemplation on his face. “Not too far from here, a mountain towers over a fertile valley that spreads out as far as the eye can see. It was late spring and the foothills were covered in regal purple flowers—and blooming trees decorated the hillsides with pink, white, and yellow.”
He gazed into the distance, as if transported to the valley in his mind, and I held my breath as he continued, seeing the picture he’d created in my own. “And not far from Beit She’an is a place where hot springs bubble out of the ground, gathering into pools so blue they look like turquoise jewels embedded into the ground. Tall date palms surround the pools and tiny fish nibble at your toes when you wade in. The water is so clear you can see all the way to the very depths. ”
“It sounds lovely,” I whispered, enchanted by his descriptions. I could almost smell the sweetness of spring blossoms, feel the warm water on my legs, and hear the breeze through the palm branches. “I’d love to go there someday.”
“However, by far, the lands our tribe was given, when the lots were cast, are the most beautiful. There are so many waterfalls around Har Hermon, ones that gush fresh water melted from the heights of its summit. The cedars there are so tall they defy the imagination, and the valleys are lush and fertile, many with overflowing fields left behind by the Canaanites who abandoned them years ago. It will take much work to restore them, but they will thrive again. My father is to be given one of the choicest pieces of land, since we were part of the surveying team, and in honor of his military service.” Darek’s chest seemed to lift with pride. “Someday I will inherit some of the most abundant olive groves I have ever seen.”
“Your father was on the team as well?”
“No, he was injured in the Battle of Ai. Such a long journey would have been difficult for him. He has been here in Shiloh, waiting for us to return.”
A wisp of intuition feathered through my mind. “Oh? And what is your father’s name?”
“Pekah.”
The echo of my father’s words slowly unfurled itself inside my head like a scroll. “He is one of the men who has been surveying the land for Yehoshua for the past few months. His father, Pekah, is a reputable man of the tribe of Naftali.”
I restrained a gasp when the revelation pierced through the fog. Darek was the man I was to marry?
I could not make my mouth work in any coherent way, so I pressed it closed as a thousand thoughts layered one atop the other. I’d spent the last few days dreading to meet the man my father had chosen, and here he was, standing in front of me. A man to whom I’d had an immediate attraction on the dancing ground. A man who would walk away from fellow soldiers at a festival to aid a stranger. A man whose warm, affable manner and vivid descriptions had put me completely at ease—even in the midst of a dark, empty field.
Had Yahweh provided a man who might accept me for who I was despite what my face looked like? Or would Darek’s appealing smile devolve into disgust when he saw behind the veil? By instinct my hand brushed my cheek.
“And what about your father, Moriyah?” The sound of my name on his lips made a pleasant shiver slide up my neck. “Does he work here in the vineyard?”
“The ointment. For Rimona,” I said, dodging the question while brushing off the reaction his moonlit gaze and this revelation had caused on the speed of my pulse. “We really should hurry.”
“Of course.” He gestured with a flourish toward the end of the row. “Lead the way.”
Should I answer his questions? Make it known who I was? Or should I allow my father to make the introductions? For the first time since the words had passed my father’s lips, the idea of being betrothed gave me a spark of hope. Glancing away, I smiled to myself, glad that Darek could not see.
We retrieved the ointment from Ora, who whispered a sly remark about my “new friend” in my ear as she handed over the small pot, causing my face to flash burn.
To avoid any more scrutiny as Darek and I walked back up through the vineyard, I asked him more questions about his travels. He indulged me, describing the barren beauty of the desert, mountain goats that performed feats of agility on the rocky cliffs, the turquoise waters of the sea where Pharaoh’s army had met its end, and the flaming, sunset-gilded cliffs that lined its beaches. As he spoke, he gestured with his hands, his face animated, even in the pale moonlight. I laughed as he described the way the men indulged in a swim in the Salt Sea, their bodies floating on the briny water as if they were hollow logs.
The more he spoke, the more I enjoyed his smooth tones rising and falling with enthusiasm. I’d already begun to crave the sound of his voice. I startled at the inward thought as I opened the door to my home, as if he could hear my embarrassing conclusion, and more than a little disappointed that my time alone with him had been so short.
“Where have you been?” Rimona glared as I entered my room. Propped up on her untouched elbow, she divided an annoyed look between us.
“I’m sorry it took so long,” I lied, as I approached the bed. “We had to walk all the way to the far edge of the vineyard.”
Remembering my promise to Darek, I gestured back to the oven. “There is some lentil stew left in that pot among the coals. It may not be hot anymore, but you three are welcome to help yourselves.”
I removed the lid to the ointment, and the scent of myrrh colored the air with warm sweetness as I knelt and applied th
e balm to Rimona’s skin, using a light finger to avoid causing her more pain.
As they partook of my stew, the two girls chattered about the festival and the dances they’d enjoyed the most and then asked Darek about the interesting places he’d seen over the past few months. His wide gestures and infectious laughter drew my attention time and time again. I found myself darting a gaze every so often through the doorway to catch a glimpse of his handsome profile as he spoke, marveling at the thought that I would soon be betrothed to him.
From across the room he caught me looking at him, and one corner of his mouth lifted. His animated brown eyes held mine hostage for a long moment before one of the girls asked him a question about his father’s injury in battle, and the brief, yet strikingly intimate, connection was severed.
Forcing my attention back on Rimona, I removed the rest of her ruined sleeve with a pair of shears and carefully turned her arm over to ensure I’d covered the entire burn with the ointment. Three dark shadows curved around the back of her arm, like the mark of large fingers, gripping too tightly.
I sucked in a small gasp and my eyes flicked to Rimona’s. I lowered my voice. “Who did this?”
“Tend to your own affairs,” she snapped. “And finish wrapping my arm. I’m ready to go.” Whoever had gripped Rimona’s arm with enough force to elicit bruises had a tight hold on her tongue as well. Was this girl in danger?
No wonder Rimona’s tongue was swift and cutting; there must be many sharp splinters inside her. Ignoring the blare of warning in my head, I blurted, “If he hurts you again, come here. We will keep you safe.”
Confusion registered on her brow for a moment, but then she rolled her eyes with a scoff. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“Perhaps not,” I said, as I finished covering the wound. “But the same can be said of what you know of me. Regardless, you are welcome here if you have need of refuge.”
As I stood, my gaze again landed on Darek in the other room. With his rich laughter and expressive stories, the man reminded me of all the best of my father and my older brother mixed together—an honorable warrior who could protect me and a natural kindness that gave me hope that he might someday see me, and not my scar. He would be coming soon to claim me as his bride—a thought that lifted my spirits, even after the terse interaction with Rimona. Tonight, as we’d walked through the dark vineyard, my vision of marriage had transformed from apprehension to tentative anticipation.
Darek lifted the bowl to his lips, tipping it back to drain the last of the stew as he caught my eye over the rim, his expression communicating appreciation of my cooking skills. Warm pleasure flooded my body at his approval.
“He’d never want you,” said Rimona quietly, jerking my attention away from Darek and back down to the sneer on her beautiful face. Some shard of bitterness seemed to have shifted in her, and her words had whipped out like a lash.
She jerked her chin toward Darek. “I’ve heard what’s truly behind that veil. And if he ever saw it, he’d have nothing to do with you.”
CHAPTER
Six
Water droplets coated the grape leaves, dripping in a slow cadence to the ground as Ora and I entered the row of vines. I inhaled the glorious mixture of scents: moist earth; crisp, clean air; and the whisper of mint from the herb garden Ora tended in front of her home.
“Are you certain you don’t want to go back inside?” I swiped a few sprinkles of rain from my bare arms. “It seems to have abated for now, but I don’t trust those dark clouds to the southwest.”
“Afraid of a little rain?” She tilted her chin up, inviting the misty air to touch her face.
“No, I am glad for the cool weather this morning. It’s been so hot these last few weeks.”
“Good! Let’s walk!” She slipped her arm through mine. “Besides, I’m not allowing something as small as a storm to keep me from hearing about the festival last night.” She yanked my arm tight against her side. “Don’t you dare leave out one detail.”
And so, as we followed our usual path up through my father’s lands, I indulged her by describing every sensation during the breathless dances, the exhilarating romp through the vineyard, the flickering heat from the braziers, the crispness of the fresh wine, and the way the happy chatter and laughter had filled me with joy. Reliving it all through her responses and exclamations was nearly as enjoyable as experiencing it myself. Her lively face shined with vicarious pleasure.
“Oh Moriyah! I am so pleased that you attended.”
“Thank you for forcing me to go.”
“I did not force you, I merely encouraged you to loosen the chains of your own expectations for one night.”
Unwilling to dig into the meaning of such a statement and uncomfortable with the silence that followed, I grasped for something to divert her attention.
“I met my future husband last night,” I said, and then immediately regretted the words.
Ora stopped, her mouth gaping like a fish. “We have been walking for all this time talking about the festival and you tell me this now? I should shake you by the shoulders! How did you meet him? What does he look like? Did you get along? What is his name? Tell me everything!”
“It is Darek, the man who accompanied me to your house last night to retrieve the ointment.”
“Oh! He seemed to be a nice young man.”
“Yes, very kind. He did not even know the girl with the burn, and yet he walked away from his friends and the festival without a backward glance to help her.”
Questions about this man I would be bound to had ensured another sleepless night. No matter which way I turned, I’d felt as though my bed were made of rocks. Had he known who I was? And if he did, then did he truly not care about my face, or would he refuse my extravagant dowry when he lifted the veil? Rimona’s assertion that he would be repulsed by me battled my hopes that Darek was a man who might look beyond the scar. Perhaps they were vain hopes, but I clung to them nevertheless.
“And?” Ora pressed, forcing me to focus on her curious expression.
“And what?”
“Are you going to tell me what he looks like? Is he as handsome as I imagine?” She poked me in the side. “His voice seemed lovely, very smooth and low, yet lilting, as if he is always just on this side of a laugh.”
Ora’s blind observations were perfectly astute, as usual, even though Darek and I had been at her house only long enough to fetch the ointment.
Grateful that she could not see me blushing, I described Darek: the reddish tinge of his wavy dark brown hair, how his eyes crinkled in the corners when he laughed, and the way he’d made me feel at ease from the first moment he’d smiled at me while still holding himself with the commanding presence of a well-trained soldier.
“You are smitten,” she said when I’d finished.
I cleared my throat of the hot lump lodged there, stalling but knowing that Ora would drag it out of me somehow. “I’d just never considered that perhaps my father’s choice of husband might be one that I would be glad to agree to.”
“Or perhaps Yahweh knew in advance who might suit you well and arranged the match.”
“Regardless, when he sees what is under this veil, he may well change his mind.”
“Moriyah.” Ora stopped and turned toward me, as if her sightless eyes could connect with mine. “If any man cannot see past an outward mark that was inflicted upon you and see the beauty of the soul that I have no doubt matches the beauty of your face, then he is not worthy of you.”
Could I dare hope that Darek could look past such shame? Unbidden hope curled around my heart, squeezing it in ways I’d not entertained for a very long time. I continued leading Ora along our usual path, working to focus on the rich smell of the wet earth, the turning colors of the vines as they drooped along the fences, and the damp, cool air that counteracted the warmth Ora’s assertions had brought to my cheeks.
Our meandering route brought us around the backside of our home, through the poplars,
and to my surprise my father greeted us on the path, as if he’d been waiting to meet us there. He’d been so busy with the harvest I’d barely seen him for days.
“I am so glad you’ve returned. Tevel said you two were out walking this morning.” My father smiled brightly at Ora, as if she could see his face. “And I see you’ve brought the sunshine with you on this gloomy day.”
“Ishai, you are ever the flatterer,” said Ora, but her smile matched my father’s. “It is this girl who is the ray of light.”
“To you and me both, my friend.” My father’s gaze connected with mine, love and loss somehow mingled in his proud expression. Dark shadows were painted beneath his eyes. He must get more rest. “And now, please follow me, I have introductions to make.”
Anxiety spread through my extremities with a jolt. Here? Now?
Ora’s calming hand covered mine where I gripped her arm as we followed my father to the front of the house. “Breathe, dear one. Yahweh is in this.”
As we turned the corner, I caught sight of Darek leaning against the wall of our house, arms folded across his chest and his head down. When he looked up at me, I forced a wide smile, one that would display in my eyes what I could not say out loud. I enjoy your company. I am pleased with this match.
He did not return the gesture.
My stomach contracted. His shuttered expression communicated everything I needed to know. The warm brown eyes had gone cold and dark, the curve of that laughing mouth replaced with a rock-hard line.
He knew, and he had changed his mind.
“Moriyah,” said my father, dragging my attention away from Darek, whose scrutiny seemed to be singeing the linen across my face. “This is Pekah.” He gestured toward an older version of Darek leaning on a wooden crutch. Another tall, dark-haired man stood nearby, with identical twin boys at his side, old enough to be called men but without a whisker on their chins.
A Light on the Hill Page 5
