Deborah Rising

by Avraham Azrieli

  Horses snorted nearby. Deborah peeked from under the red sheet. There were lights in the open field, probably a caravan of foreign merchants, camping for the night.

  The cart rattled and shook on the rocky path, making her feel sick. Finally, the cart stopped. She heard Obadiah grunt as he rolled the heavy wooden cover from the mouth of the communal burial cave.

  “Hold tight,” he said, tilting the cart. The woman’s corpse slipped through the mouth of the cave. “Blessed be Yahweh,” the priest recited, “God of Israel, king of the world, the true judge.”

  “Amen,” Deborah said, remembering her parents’ burial a year earlier. She took a deep breath as a lump formed in her throat.

  “Quick, I must get back.” He rested the torch against a rock, removed the crosspieces, and helped her off the cart. “Here are a few things I prepared for you.” He emptied a sack on the cart and showed her each item. “A purse with a bit of money. Don’t show it to anyone, or they’ll rob you.”

  She nodded.

  “Bread, butter, salt, and this waterskin. It should suffice for two days, but if you take longer, you must find food and water by yourself.”

  That was something she had never done. How could she find food and water by herself?

  “A wool blanket to keep you warm, and a letter to my cousin in Shiloh.” He unrolled the parchment and pointed at the first line. “That’s his name: Shatz Ha’Cohen.”

  “I can’t read.” Her face flushed. “But I’ll remember. Shatz Ha’Cohen.”

  “That’s correct.” Obadiah rolled up the parchment and put it back in the sack. “Shatz is one of the seven elder priests officiating at the Holy Tabernacle. He’s very rich and powerful, not like me. Our late mothers were sisters, but his mother married a Cohen—a descendant of Aaron, brother of Moses—while mine married a regular Levite. When you arrive in Shiloh, ask for him. This letter tells him what happened here and asks him to help you.”

  She could tell by the tone of Obadiah’s voice that his cousin’s help was less than certain. “Will he assist me?”

  “At best, he’ll give you shelter for a few days and consider your case. The betrothal of an orphan girl is usually up to the town’s judge, but since Seesya is the judge’s son, and you don’t wish to marry him, perhaps the elders in Shiloh could find a way to obtain your release. I don’t know. Meanwhile, you’ll probably have to work for food and shelter until the issue is resolved.”

  “I’m a good worker,” she said, more to reassure herself than to convince him.

  “Only speak with Shatz. Don’t tell anyone that I helped you escape.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Here is a plain robe and a headscarf. Keep yourself covered up as a modest woman would—especially your hair. It’s the first thing people would remember about you.”

  He turned, and she pulled off the red robe and put on the brown one. She braided her hair quickly, tied it in a knot, and covered her head with the scarf. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me. I do this in order to remove your sister’s curse from over my head.”

  “I thank you all the same.”

  He pointed at the red robe. “Better get rid of this.”

  The girl took her father’s fire-starters out of the pocket, bunched up the red robe, and tossed it aside.

  “Not here,” Obadiah said. “If Seesya found it here, he’d connect your escape with me.”

  She picked up the robe and put it in the sack, together with everything else, including her basket with the tiger tail. “Which direction is Shiloh?”

  “Follow the road north for about one and a half days. The road will split, left to Tapuah and Aphek, right to Shiloh. From there, it’s about a half-day’s walk. When you get close, you’ll see people on their way to the Holy Tabernacle with offerings of produce and livestock.”

  “Where is north?”

  He sighed. “You really are a child. It’s not too late for you to change your mind and go back. No one would know.”

  “I’ve made my choice. Show me where to go.”

  Obadiah nodded and looked up at the sky, searching. “Over there, the group of stars around the one that shines brighter than the others. Do you see?”

  She followed the direction of his finger. “Yes. I see it.”

  “That’s the North Star. At night you should follow it. During the day, go by the sun. Do you know how?”

  “Yes. The sun rises in the east, so it’ll be on my right, and in the afternoon, on my left.”

  The priest picked up the torch, got behind the cart, and started uphill.

  “Will you give me a blessing?” Deborah asked.

  He paused and looked back as if checking whether she was joking.

  “Please?”

  Obadiah held his hands above her head, the four fingers in each hand spread in two pairs as was customary for the priestly blessing in the temple, and recited, “May Yahweh bless you and protect you. May He show you kindness and grace. May He illuminate your path and grant you peace.”

  Deborah watched him push the cart up the path toward the gates of Emanuel. His back was bent, and he breathed heavily. Darkness surrounded her. She reached into the sack, pulled out the tiger tail, and looped it around her neck.

  It took her some time to go around the town’s walls in the opposite direction from the gates, but she managed to find the road without falling or stepping on a snake. She tossed the red robe into a ditch by the roadside and looked up at the sky, searching for the group of stars as the priest had taught her.

  The North Star shone brightly.

  Deborah began to walk as fast as she could, eager to put as much distance as possible between her and Seesya in the hours left until sunrise. She planned to hide and sleep during the day and continue walking at nightfall until she arrived at Shiloh. There, she would pray at the Holy Tabernacle and begin her search for the Elixirist.

  She walked without stopping for the rest of the night. Coyotes howled nearby, and she swung the tiger tail to spread the odor into the air to scare them away. She passed by a few isolated homesteads, and dogs ran toward her, barking and growling, but soon scampered back to the safety of their owners’ land.

  At sunrise, she stopped to drink. Obadiah of Levi had filled the waterskin to capacity. It was made of a sheep’s bladder with a bottleneck fashioned of a hollowed-out piece of bone, plugged with a cork. The water was cool and sweet, and she silently thanked the priest.

  Proceeding along the meandering road through the low hills, she looked for a hiding place that would be invisible to travelers, allowing her to get some sleep during the day. She noticed a cluster of boulders and dry shrubs, about halfway up the hillside, and hiked up to check it out. A patch of soft soil between large boulders seemed perfect for lying down in the shade while remaining hidden from the road. With the sack as a pillow, the wool blanket wrapped around her, and the tiger tail resting on top to ward off animals, Deborah fell asleep immediately.

  Part Four

  The Boy

  Chapter 12

  She was riding a giant eagle above the clouds when it suddenly veered to the right and dove, piercing the clouds, shooting down from the sky as if aiming to snatch an oblivious prey on the ground. Deborah grasped the white feathers at the back of the neck and struggled to breathe against the oncoming rush of air. The ground below was pale and arid, with no vegetation, only jagged rocks that approached rapidly as the eagle dove faster and faster, showing no sign of slowing down. She screamed, but the voice wasn’t her own. It was a man’s voice, which terrified her even more. She pulled on the eagle’s neck in an effort to force the bird out of the dive before hitting the ground. The eagle didn’t change direction, continuing downward at a terrifying speed. What was it after? Her eyes scanned the ground below but could see no prey on the harsh, rocky land. The prey, she suddenly understood, wasn’t a rodent or a snake, or some other little animal scurrying for its life. The eagle’s intent was to kill her! She was the prey! Desperate
ly, Deborah shouted, “Stop! Stop! Stop!” The voice still wasn’t hers but a man’s voice. A second before they hit the ground, she let go of the eagle’s neck and covered her face. The terrible collision she had expected didn’t happen. Instead, Deborah woke up.

  She was curled up on the ground, shaken and covered in sweat. The eagle was gone, yet a man continued shouting. She took off the coarse blanket, put aside the tiger tail, and peeked between the boulders at the road below.

  There were several horses and donkeys loaded with goods and packages, as well as a few goats and sheep tied together. The animals were restless, and the travelers they belonged to were trying to pacify them. She counted three women and about ten children of all ages. They had dark skin and black hair. An older man in a multicolored striped coat stood at the edge of the road, facing away from her, his hands cupping his mouth to amplify his voice. Deborah looked in the direction he was yelling and saw a boy running after a horse. Large packages were strapped to the horse, bulky and ungainly, which made its galloping awkward and comical.

  One of the other horses tried to break away as well. A girl of ten or eleven in a blue dress held on to the reins, and the horse dragged her along. The man hurried over, pulled a piece of carrot from his pocket, and offered it to the horse with soothing words. As if by magic, the horse calmed down, ate the treat, and allowed the man to rub its neck.

  While he soothed the horse, the man’s eyes searched the surrounding hills. Deborah crouched back down behind the boulder as his gaze shifted in her direction. After a brief wait, she peeked again at the scene below.

  The man, judging by his gestures, instructed the women and children to bring the animals closer together. As they gathered in, he pulled a short sword from a sheath at his hip and paced along the edge of the road between his caravan and the hillside where Deborah was hiding, as if he expected an attack from that direction. She glanced over her shoulder at the hillside rising further behind her, but saw nothing. The man continued to pace along the edge of the road, watching, his sword ready. What was he worried about? Despite his gray beard and the thick midriff under the loose coat, he radiated a cunning vigor that caused her to lower her head again.

  Meanwhile, the horse and the boy were lost from sight. She kept down and listened to the travelers’ anxious voices. The language they spoke sounded familiar. They were Moabites, she decided. The women pleaded repeatedly with a phrase that, she guessed, was the man’s name: Abu Zariz.

  After some time, the drumming of horse hooves could be heard. Expecting to see the boy returning with the fugitive horse, Deborah took a peek and froze in fear. It was Seesya, galloping up the road from the direction of Emanuel with six mounted soldiers. A cloud of dust trailed them, and as they reached the caravan, the cloud caught up and surrounded everyone.

  When the dust cleared, Seesya and his soldiers circled the caravan.

  Abu Zariz came forward, his left hand raised in greeting, his right holding the short sword. “Shalom,” he called in Hebrew. “Shalom!”

  Seesya nodded. “We’re looking for a girl. She ran away last night.”

  “We haven’t seen any girl.” The Moabite man’s Hebrew pronunciation was accented, but he spoke clearly. “One of our horses ran away. There might be a bear or a wolf nearby. The scent is making the animals restless.”

  Confirming his words, Seesya’s horse shifted around, as did the soldiers’ horses.

  “The girl has white skin and orange hair,” Seesya said.

  “Orange hair?”

  “Like pealed carrots.”

  “An Edomite girl?”

  “She’s a Hebrew. Her mother came from the south. Maybe she whored with the Edomites.” Seesya laughed, and his soldiers joined in.

  On the hillside, Deborah hunkered behind the boulder, shaken by Seesya’s insult of her dead mother, who was as righteous as the highest priest at the Holy Tabernacle.

  Abu Zariz chuckled. “We didn’t see her or any other girl.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely. Could she have gone in a different direction?”

  “I’ve sent men in every direction.” Seesya twirled his spear. “We’ll find her and punish whoever’s helping her.”

  The man took a step back but kept smiling. “I traded with your father yesterday, and every year before that. You can ask him about Abu Zariz from Moab, who sells him tools and arrowheads. Also Egyptian linen of excellent quality.”

  “My father trades with many men. Some are honest, others are crooks.”

  Abu Zariz laughed as if it were a joke. “I hope the baskets he sold me will not fall apart at first use.” He pointed at one of the horses, loaded with baskets.

  “How about your women and children?” Seesya pointed his spear at them. “Have they seen the girl?”

  Abu Zariz took another piece of carrot from his pocket and spoke to the women, pointing at his hair and the carrot. They shook their heads, giggling into their hands.

  “You wouldn’t mind if we looked around, would you?” Seesya signaled to the soldiers, who dismounted and approached the Moabites.

  “Go ahead,” Abu Zariz said. “But please be careful with the merchandise. My family needs to eat.”

  Seesya remained on his horse but came closer to the group, causing the women and children to move aside. He stuck his spear into a large package.

  “Don’t do that!” Abu Zariz ran over. “You’ll ruin my linen!”

  Turning his horse, Seesya raised his spear.

  The women screamed, and Deborah was about to stand up and yell to stop Seesya from killing the Moabite merchant, but she paused when Seesya lowered his spear and resumed stabbing into packages.

  Following Seesya’s example, the soldiers stabbed into every bundle and box, even those too small to hide a girl. They cut ropes that held things together and kicked the fallen goods around. Within a few minutes, all the merchandise was scattered on the ground.

  Trotting back and forth, Seesya surveyed the destruction. “Looks like you spoke the truth.”

  “I always do,” Abu Zariz said darkly. “Please give my regards to your father and tell him about the unnecessary damage you inflicted on his old friend for no good reason.”

  Seesya turned his horse away, ready to leave, but something drew his attention. He pointed with his spear. “What’s this?”

  One of the soldiers came over and picked it up. It was a red robe that looked like the one Deborah had thrown away by the roadside the night before.

  “It’s nothing,” Abu Zariz said. “A cheap robe. You can have it if you want.”

  “Let me see it.” Seesya took it from the soldier and looked at it carefully. He turned it inside out and used a finger and a thumb to remove something. “This looks familiar,” he said.

  Even from a distance, Deborah could tell that he was holding a strand of hair, though she could only guess at its color.

  Abu Zariz looked closely and stepped back.

  “Why aren’t you laughing now,” Seesya asked, “about this orange hair?”

  “I swear to you in the name of Ra and in the name of your Yahweh that we found this robe on the way and took it. There was no girl. Only a robe.”

  The soldiers drew their swords and circled the group. Seesya made his horse move back a few steps to give him a commanding view over the whole situation. He grinned, still holding the strand of hair between a finger and a thumb.

  “Your father will tell you,” Abu Zariz said. “I always speak the truth. We will go with you back to—”

  “She’s here,” Seesya said, turning his horse around in a full circle as he gazed at the area around them. “You’re hiding her.”

  “I swear to you—”

  “Tell me where she is.” Seesya let go of the strand of hair, which drifted slowly to the ground. “Or your daughters will suffer, one after the other, and then your wives.”

  The women and children crowded behind Abu Zariz, who wiped sweat from his brow with his sleeve. “I beg you,
son of Zifron. We did not see a girl, only the robe. She must have run into the hills, knowing that you’d be chasing her down this road.”

  “She’s too foolish to plan ahead. Last time, she escaped to the place where everyone would know to look for her.”

  “Then you should go there!”

  “I have. She’s not there, but you already know that. I think you saw her run away last night and grabbed her. How much does a fertile virgin sell for in Moab these days?”

  “We didn’t see her! Please believe me!”

  Seesya rubbed the scar on his face. “I don’t believe you.”

  Two of the soldiers stepped forward, pushed the Moabite trader aside, and grabbed the girl with the blue dress.

  “No!” Abu Zariz raised his sword and held it up at the soldiers. “Let her go!”

  The other four soldiers aimed their spears at him.

  “Don’t kill him yet.” Seesya moved his horse closer. “I need him to talk.”

  The soldiers circled the Moabite trader.

  “If he doesn’t drop his sword,” Seesya said, “kill one of his wives.”

  In her hiding place, Deborah bit her knuckles, struggling not to scream. She had to reveal herself and stop Seesya before he hurt the Moabites! But giving herself up to Seesya would mean giving up her quest for the Elixirist and any hope of freedom.

  “This is madness!” Abu Zariz dropped his sword. “Why are you doing this to us?”

  Seesya sighed as if all this unpleasantness bored him. “You see, my deceitful friend, this is not just an ugly little witch we’re after. The girl is my future wife, who comes with a highly valuable inheritance. It’s not a question of if but of how soon I’ll possess both her and her inheritance—which leaves us with another question.” He grinned, again rubbing his scar. “How many of your lovely daughters and wives will I have to disfigure before you tell me where to find my betrothed witch?”

  “Take me,” Abu Zariz pleaded. “Let us go together before your father!”