A Light on the Hill

by Connilyn Cossette

  The assistant moved in front of Darek, one arm outstretched, as if prepared to stop them. “Masaharta asked that you remain here until he returns from this morning’s special sacrifice so he can elaborate on further treatment.”

  Suspicion spread its wings, transforming into outright intuition—these men did not want us to leave. We must go. Now.

  “Have I not paid enough for my slave?” I said, my eyes dipping to the handful of gold pieces I’d placed in his palm a few minutes before. “That is the price we agreed on, is it not?”

  His fist tightened around the gold. “You have paid quite well, my lady. We are simply concerned for his health, and with the Harvest Festival beginning today, it would be best—”

  “You have done a wonderful job caring for him, and I am most grateful, but I will be taking my servant with me now.” I smiled, making sure that the gesture lit my eyes with the most pleasant of warnings.

  After flicking another quick look toward the doorway, the man dropped his arm, as if he’d decided not to force the issue. “Of course. We are at your service.” He touched two fingers to the center of his chest, where a golden Eye of Horus amulet rested on his bronze skin.

  Darek and Mehmet made quick work of lifting Yuval, who’d awoken during the exchange between the physician’s assistant and me. His eyes were wide and full of questions. I wondered if he’d known that he’d spent the night in this echoing chamber full of evil gods. Had he sensed supernatural protection surrounding him throughout the night, or been completely unaware of how Yahweh had answered my prayer for his safety?

  I followed behind the men as they carried my father’s steward back through the echoing hall of the temple and out into the bright morning. A crowd had gathered near an enormous basalt stele stationed at the center of the temple complex. The priestesses we’d passed on our way inside were entertaining the crowd with a dance, one that caused my face to heat. I latched my gaze on the wagon at the foot of the stairs instead.

  When the men had settled Yuval in the back of the wagon, I climbed into the bed beside him and then turned back to thank the assistant for his help. Instead of standing behind me, however, he was speaking with one of the guards and gesturing toward us with a surreptitious flick of his fingers.

  “We must go.” I leaned over the edge of the wagon to speak to Darek. “It looks as though they are sending another guard to follow us.”

  “I agree.”

  At my direction, Mehmet climbed into the front of the wagon and snapped the reins on the mules’ backs. I lifted a hand in farewell to the Egyptian, hoping to assuage his suspicions with a wide, grateful smile.

  Before the mules had taken a few steps forward, Mehmet was forced to yank them to a stop as a large group of revelers appeared in the entrance to the temple complex, blocking our exit. Two large wagons, filled with even more scantily clad women, rumbled toward us, a swarm of people surrounding them. The women were tossing flowers and olive branches into the crowd, their uplifted voices seeming to draw even more onlookers to the spectacle. As the courtyard filled, our exit became glutted with celebrants.

  I leaned over Yuval, assessing his complexion. “We must get you out of this courtyard. Can you walk?”

  He attempted a wan smile. “I will try.”

  “Good, we have little choice.” Darek helped Yuval out of the wagon, gripping him by the waist, with Yuval’s good arm slung over his shoulder. As tempting as it was to offer my help, it was best to leave the burden to Darek. A priestess would not be seen helping a slave walk, wounded and weak though he was.

  “Mehmet,” I turned to our silent young driver. “Will you bring the wagon back after the crowd thins? I will ensure you are compensated for your time.”

  “Matters little to me,” said Mehmet. “My brother is capable of manning our booth. If I go back, all he’ll do is make me fetch him tools and mend sandals. I’ll stay here—”A pair of half-naked temple girls sauntered by, their arms slung about each other’s waists and a grin for Mehmet on their lips, which he seemed all too happy to return—“and take in the sights.”

  “Shuah would not take kindly to the loss of his wagon. Best to stay with it.”

  Mehmet waved me off. “Not to worry. I’d do nothing to break Shuah’s trust. My brother and I were bound and tied, on our way to Damascus when he discovered us.”

  “You were slaves?”

  “Indeed. But fortunately, Shuah noticed our well-made sandals and asked if we knew the trade. When we revealed that our father had taught us as children before he died and left us orphans, Shuah paid the slave trader and freed us. For the past five years we’ve traveled with his company.” He lifted his dark brows. “As I said, I’ll take in the views, but I won’t betray Shuah.”

  Satisfied with his answer, I bade him farewell, and then with Darek and Yuval trailing me, pressed into the teeming crowd. As difficult as it was to push through the celebration in the opposite direction, the three of us managed to get past the temple courtyard gates and find our way back to the market.

  The majority of the booths were empty, most merchants having given up in the face of a barren marketplace. Only the beer and wine stalls had any customers to count. I stopped in the shade of a building, fanning myself and playing the part of a pampered priestess, to afford Darek and Yuval rest in a place where we would not be overheard.

  Darek propped Yuval’s back against the wall. My father’s steward leaned on his good shoulder, sweat dripping down his temples and off his stubbled jaw. The walk from the temple had drained all the color from his face and his hands trembled.

  “What will we do?” I asked the men with a false smile on my face. “We must leave this place.”

  “Today,” Darek said, his eyes averted. “That Egyptian was up to something.”

  “I agree,” said Yuval. “There was a lot of whispering going on around me as I awoke. I overheard the physician order the man to keep you there by any means necessary.”

  “I have no doubt they are watching us right now,” I said. “Yuval, can you make it across the marketplace? Shuah’s wagons are on the far edge.”

  “I will do my best, but then you must go.”

  “Go?”

  “You must leave this city—today. And you must leave me here.”

  “No!”

  “I cannot travel with you, Moriyah. I can barely make it through this city. It may be weeks before I am strong enough for such a thing. And you must get to Kedesh.”

  “I won’t leave you, Yuval.”

  “There is no other way. This city is too dangerous for you two. If they discover you are Hebrew, you will be executed.” His assertion clamped down on my heart.

  “But I . . .” My argument fizzled as I saw Shuah and two of his companions striding toward us.

  “Moriel! Peace to you, my lady.” Shuah moved closer, but only enough to lower his voice. He smiled with false brightness. “There is a guard over there watching you three. I decided you might need our assistance.”

  I did not turn around. “We know. The man from the Healing Chamber sent him to keep an eye on us.”

  “Then we must do our best to keep suspicions low,” Shuah said, scratching his chin. “Wave your arms a bit, make it look like we are bartering.”

  What was he up to? I complied, jabbing a finger at Shuah as if he had annoyed me. “We must leave, and I do not know how we will get out of this city.” I shook my head at him, making it clear that I wasn’t interested in whatever deal he was offering.

  “You won’t get far with your injured friend there.” Shuah folded his arms, looking as if he were refusing to budge on our pretend bartering.

  I echoed his posture. “We cannot leave him.”

  “You must,” said Yuval under his breath. “If you don’t go now, you will not get out of Megiddo. You must continue on the path we set out upon. Find a way to reach that city.”

  “My lady,” Shuah said, “I may be an old man, but I am no fool. You are not exactly who you say you are,
and I would wager you are not eager to be discovered here. I agree with Yuval. He must stay with us.”

  “You have been nothing but kind, but I will not leave him.”

  “Then you will all die.” Shuah looked over to Darek. “You agree with me, don’t you?”

  With a terse draw of his lips, Darek nodded.

  Shuah made a wide gesture to Yuval, as if it were over him that we were haggling. “We have taken a covenant of salt together. We will protect him, Moriel, with our lives. Do you trust me?”

  Tears blurred my vision and I shook my head again. “I cannot . . .”

  Without lifting his head, Yuval answered for me, his tone brooking no argument. “I am staying here. I will not go with you.”

  I blinked, surprised at the adamancy in his voice. It seemed I was not the only one who’d smothered my opinions behind a veil of unquestioning compliance.

  Shuah clapped his hands together, as if pleased with the transaction we had made. He reached into his pouch and then dropped a handful of silver pieces into my palm. “Here is the price of a valuable slave.”

  “Yuval is a master vintner—not to mention that he saved my life twice. There is no price you could pay that would do him justice.”

  “I am not purchasing him; I am only ensuring that there are no issues if you are questioned about the transaction. Yuval is welcome to travel with us and make his living with our group. Indeed, his knowledge of wine would be a great asset.”

  The three men had stripped me of any more excuses. “If this is what you truly want, Yuval, then you are welcome to go with Shuah. But you do it as a free man.”

  Yuval’s eyes went wide. “Free?”

  “You have more than earned your freedom with your sacrifice, and I know my father would agree.”

  “If I ever can find a way to return, I will.”

  “And I pray that someday you will find your way back to us, to your home—” I said, my words choking off.

  Darek shifted his weight, the move in the corner of my sight pressing me to hurry.

  The large crowd from the temple courtyard was now moving into the marketplace. The group, even noisier than before, was heading for the main gates of Megiddo. At the head of the procession were a few priests carrying large bowls, some of which had reddish streaks down the sides. A decoration? Or perhaps wine?

  “Where are they going?” I asked Shuah.

  “It is a festival to celebrate the olive harvest. They are heading into the groves to sprinkle the blood of the sacrifices around the trees, to thank the gods for the yield and to plead for a good harvest next year.” The contents of my stomach lurched. Blood . . . it was blood in those bowls. “Go, blend into the crowd. This is the perfect chance to leave the city.”

  Shuah waved his hand at his two companions, and they moved forward to aid Yuval. The old Midianite turned to me, his palms pressed together. “I vow to you that we will ensure he is cared for and heals well.” He stared at me, as though all my lies were written on my face alongside my scar. “Perhaps someday we will cross paths again, Moriel.”

  Regret for my deception tapped on my shoulder, and I clamped down on the urge to give him my real name. Instead I placed a hand on my chest, displaying my sincere thanks. “Thank you, Shuah. I am grateful to all of you. And please tell Zendaye that I will pray for the opportunity to see her again as well.”

  Darek gripped my arm and gave it an urgent tug. If not for the determined expression on Yuval’s face, I would have again begged him to change his mind. But with my heart clogging my throat after a last look at him, I turned and walked away, adding his losses to my account.

  CHAPTER

  Twenty-Five

  Darek and I allowed the mad rush to carry us forward and swallow us in anonymity. The revelers paraded out of the market and through the bronze inner gates into the large holding area where we’d been interrogated by the guards yesterday afternoon. Suddenly the crowd stumbled to a halt, jammed against the closed outer gates. We were trapped inside the city.

  Jostled forward by a man carrying a wine-jug on his shoulder, I stumbled, nearly plowing into the back of a woman in front of me. Darek’s quick grip around my waist prevented my fall.

  “What do we do?” I glanced around and frantically willed the gates to open while kneading the seam of my dress with restless fingers. “Should we go back? Is there another way out of the city?”

  He leaned down to speak into my ear, the noise and chatter all around us concealing his accent. “Relax.” His warm breath on my skin caused a rush of heat to my cheeks even in the midst of the chaos. “It won’t be much longer.”

  My attention was snatched away by a few women standing on top of the ramparts, shouting blessings from their “divine lady Ashtoreth” and tossing flowers down onto the crowd. Hands grasped toward the colorful garlands and blossoms, cheers rising up whenever a bloom was caught. From their places among the crowd, musicians took to playing and drums began a throbbing beat, encouraging the celebrants to sway and bounce, hands uplifted.

  Two guards stood beside the women, and by the way their insistent gazes roved over the roiling crowd, I knew they were searching for me. I flicked my eyes back to the gates that remained firmly locked against our escape. My chest cinched tight and my pulse thrummed in my temples, my breath coming in short spurts.

  Darek moved to stand in front of me, his arm still gripping my waist, his other hand on the back of my head, steadying me against the trembling that threatened to consume me. “Moriyah. Breathe.” His varicolored eyes displayed tones of gold and silver against the brown in the morning light. “I will not let harm come to you. You must remain calm or it will draw attention.”

  Knowing the wisdom in his quiet command, I worked to slow my breathing, held my body still, and focused instead on studying his face, so close to me now. The golden tones of his sun-kissed skin, the dark brows lowered with concern for me, the high smooth planes of his cheekbones, the way his lips curved upward, even now as he attempted to soothe me. Why, Yahweh? Why had it not been him?

  “There are guards up there looking for us,” I said.

  “I know,” he said. Of course he did. I’d come to see just how keen his senses were over the last few days; he’d probably spotted the guards long before I had and hadn’t wanted to startle me.

  “What do they want with us?” I kept my eyes trained on him, terrified to look around for other guards, but at the same time fighting the compulsion to do so.

  “I don’t know. Yuval said the physician was suspicious, so perhaps he ordered them to detain us.”

  My breath caught in my throat, my words coming out in a choking gasp. “What of Yuval? What if they already have him? What if they kill him?” I blinked against the burning tears that blurred Darek’s face in front of me.

  He leaned in closer, his forehead on mine. “Shh. It was not your decision. It was he who made the choice to stay with Shuah.”

  “But I—”

  “No.” He cut off my argument. “He vowed to get you safely to Kedesh, and this is his way of fulfilling that vow to your father, by letting you go on without him.”

  All of this had been for nothing. I would die. Yuval would die—but Darek did not have to.

  “You made no such vow,” I said, pulling back from him a handspan and drawing a deep breath, attempting to clear my head of his enveloping nearness. “You should go. Get away from here.”

  His brown eyes cut to my right, and I barely restrained the urge to follow his line of sight. I stiffened, bracing for whatever was coming. To my surprise, he leaned down and reached for something near my feet.

  When he stood again, he held a flower garland in his hands, a riotous mixture of red, white, pink, and yellow blooms. Before I could ask what he was doing, he reached up and placed it on my head like a crown, his hands lightly brushing down my hair to my shoulders, where they remained. “To help you blend in.”

  He looked down at me, his eyes capturing mine and one corner of his mouth
lifting into a sad semblance of his smile. “Just like the first night I saw you.”

  That night in the vineyard somehow seemed years and years ago, since the last eight days had been elongated by frustration, confusion, and fear. He leaned forward, his lips grazing my ear and the scent of his skin tempting me to inhale deeply. “And I am not going anywhere without you.”

  A roar of delight went up in the crowd around us. The enormous gates of Megiddo were being pushed open by ten men. Relief trickled through me as the crowd began a slow shuffle forward. Darek slipped his strong hand into mine, braiding our fingers together securely. The contact infused me with strength. “Don’t let go,” he said.

  Pressed forward again toward the gates, I worked at affixing a smile on my lips, as if I were enjoying this harvest celebration and looking forward to whatever perverse activities these people had planned for the day. A large group of soldiers stood near the exit, their wary eyes roving over the crowd. I averted my gaze, keeping my attention focused on the backs of the people walking in front of me and praying that Yahweh would wrap us in invisibility, just as if my veil covered me again.

  As we stepped through the gates and past the last of the soldiers, I released a grateful sigh. I’d walked out of this city on my own two feet, just as I’d planned. The sloping road that led away from Megiddo was shaded by regal palms along both sides and the long train of revelers now stretched along its length, like a serpent descending into the verdant valley.

  I squeezed Darek’s hand. “We made it. We are free.” I looked up, expecting my relief to be reflected in his expression, but the brown eyes that met mine were instead filled with resignation and his lips were pressed into a firm line.

  “Stay strong,” he said. “Use your head.”

  Before I could respond, a large hand wrapped around my arm from behind, yanking me to a jarring stop. A guard moved in front of me, his bronze helmet glittering in the sunlight. A swarm of soldiers suddenly encircled us, causing the revelers all around to scatter like rats. The last of my hope curled up inside my chest, dying a painful death. I concentrated on keeping myself standing with legs that had gone completely numb with fear.