Deborah Rising

by Avraham Azrieli

  The lepers didn’t look at Deborah as they straightened the carts and pushed them back onto the road, pointing in the opposite direction from Aphek. Ramrod fed the donkeys bits of carrot to pacify them. He glanced at Deborah and smiled, but looked away when Miriam gave him a stern glance.

  “We don’t fight back,” Miriam said. “Yahweh wants us to bear our curse, and being taunted by people is part of our punishment.”

  Deborah took her sack from the cart and shouldered it. “Isn’t your physical suffering enough of a punishment?”

  “Perhaps, but in our experience, fighting back causes bigger problems.” Miriam pointed in the direction the boys had run. “They’ll go to the city, tell their friends what happened, and come back with clubs and stones.”

  “Why?” Deborah was shocked. “It’s a sin to attack the weak and powerless!”

  Miriam chuckled sadly. “Nothing excites the righteous more than an opportunity to assault sinners, and we, with our curse visible to all, make for an excellent target.”

  “I’m sorry,” Deborah said. “It didn’t occur to me.”

  “Why should it? You’re not a leper.” Miriam spoke harshly, but immediately her bandaged hands came together in a gesture of apology. “It’s not your fault, Deborah. Please forgive me.”

  “There’s nothing to forgive. It’s the truth.”

  “We must get going,” Ramrod said. “Once we’re off the main road, they won’t find us.”

  “Thank you for bringing me here,” Deborah said. “I’ll never forget you.”

  “Before we go,” Miriam said, “will you give us your blessing?”

  Deborah didn’t think her blessing was any good, but the leper woman was pleading for a gift of hope, not humble excuses. Raising her hands forward with the fingers parted in pairs in the manner of priests, Deborah recited the blessing: “May Yahweh bless you and protect you. May He show you kindness and grace. May He illuminate your path and grant you peace.”

  Miriam bowed to her, as did the other lepers. They climbed into the carts.

  “One more thing,” Deborah said. “In the last couple of nights, I had dreams. I think they mean something.”

  “What?”

  “That you should go to the Sea of Salt.”

  Ramrod jumped off the lead cart and confronted her. “The Sea of Salt? There’s nothing there. It’s a place of death!”

  Miriam glared at him. “Where are your manners?”

  “He’s right,” Deborah said. “It makes no sense to me either, but I saw it clearly in my dreams. Take olive oil and garlic with you, and when you get there, cover yourselves in olive oil and garlic paste.”

  Ramrod made a face. “Sticky and stinky at the same time.”

  “I’m sorry, but that’s what I saw in my dreams. Smear it all over, as if you were dipping an apple in honey. To wash it off, submerge in the Sea of Salt. Do it again and again until you are cured.”

  Ramrod turned to Miriam. “Is this girl crazy?”

  “Hush!” Miriam pointed at his cart. “Take your place and lead the way!”

  He complied without arguing. As the carts took off down the road, the cat leaped out of Miriam’s cart and ran back to Deborah. She picked it up in her arms and held it to her chest, kissing its snout on the line where white and black met. It meowed, jumped down, and raced back to Miriam. A moment later, the lepers were gone.

  Chapter 32

  Deborah decided to hide in case Miriam’s fears were justified. She stepped off the road, crouched among bushes of mint and honeysuckle, and waited. Sure enough, a group of boys and young men arrived from the direction of Aphek, brandishing wooden sticks and leather slings. They reached the spot where the previous attack had taken place and stopped. Looking around in all directions, they waved their sticks and shouted obscenities, before heading back to Aphek.

  With the immediate danger over, Deborah considered her next step. A direct approach to Kassite’s owner, Orran of Manasseh, would be too risky. A girl traveling alone in search of an Edomite slave would raise suspicion. Orran would ask probing questions, which she wouldn’t want to answer truthfully, leading to more questions. Rather, she would approach his servants or slaves and make indirect inquiries about Kassite without drawing too much attention.

  Kneeling at the water’s edge, she washed her face and hands, patted down her robe, and retied her scarf.

  A group of about twenty travelers appeared on the road, heading in the direction of Aphek. Some were on foot, carrying sacks and baskets or pushing handcarts. A few men rode on donkeys while their women paced behind. Deborah couldn’t tell whether they were pilgrims coming back from Shiloh, travelers from cities to the north and east, or local farmers taking produce to the market. They seemed unrelated, traveling together for safety.

  Deborah put up her hood, adjusted her scarf so that it covered the lower half of her face, and followed them.

  Approaching the city, the group broke up. Most turned toward the fairgrounds, a few continued down to the guarded checkpoint at the narrow pass by the gushing springs, where the river started, and one man on a donkey headed to the city gates. Deborah followed him.

  Several sentries stood by a tall pole just outside the open gates. The flag was black with a white ox, proclaiming that the city belonged to the tribe of Ephraim. The man on the donkey greeted the sentries, who replied in a familiar manner and waved him through. Deborah lowered her eyes and stayed close, hoping that the sentries would assume she was traveling with him.

  A pair of boots appeared on the road before her, and she almost bumped into a sentry.

  He laughed. “What’s the hurry, girl?”

  Deborah kept her head down. “I’m a visitor here.”

  “From where?”

  “Shiloh.”

  “What’s in the sack?” He took it from her, reached inside, and pulled out the tiger tail, letting it unfurl to its full length. “Look at this!”

  The other sentries came over to see.

  “It keeps wild animals away,” she said.

  “Clever.” He gave her the sack back, but held on to the tiger tail. “Look up at me, girl. Show us your face.”

  Deborah loosened the scarf, revealing her face.

  “Green eyes,” he said, “and lots of freckles. Not of Manasseh, are you?”

  “Looks like a girl of Judah,” another sentry said. “Or even an Edomite.”

  “Maybe she’s a spy,” a third one said.

  Fear tightened her chest, and she had to force the words out of her mouth. “I’m a daughter of Ephraim.” She pointed to the flag on the pole. “That’s my tribe. I swear to you in the name of Yahweh!”

  The mention of God’s name seemed to make little impression.

  “You don’t look like a daughter of Ephraim.” The sentry sniffed the tiger tail and crinkled his nose. “If you’re lying to us—”

  “Do you know Shatz Ha’Cohen?”

  “Who?”

  “He’s one of the seven elder priest at the Holy Tabernacle in Shiloh.” Deborah kept eye contact with him to show she wasn’t afraid. “Have you heard of the Holy Tabernacle?”

  “Of course.” The sentry glanced at his colleagues. “What about it?”

  “I left Shatz’s house two days ago to get here as quickly as possible. Do you want me to go back to Shiloh and tell him that you stood in my way? Do you want him to pray for your damnation at the Holy Tabernacle?”

  The sentry shrugged. “I’m only doing my job.”

  “Shatz conducts trade with Orran of Manasseh, the tanner. I need to find him. Can you tell me where his house is?”

  “Didn’t you hear what I said?” The sentry tossed the tiger tail at her. “This city belongs to Ephraim.”

  It dawned on her that Orran’s name meant that he was a member of the tribe of Manasseh, which made it impossible for him to reside inside Aphek at a time of fighting among the tribes.

  “Go to the fairgrounds,” said one of the other sentries. “The marketplac
e is always neutral—everyone is allowed there. Ask for Orran’s shop. It’s big. You can’t miss it.”

  “Thank you.” She stuffed the tiger tail back in her sack and shouldered it. “Yahweh’s blessing upon you.”

  Entering the fairgrounds, Deborah blended in with the shoppers, many of them women and girls. Some of the vendors spoke languages she didn’t know and wore strange headdresses or necklaces with charms or miniature gods. Pacing between the rows of stalls and tents, she marveled at the merchandise. There were dresses made of fine wool and soft linen in vivid colors, silk scarves with exotic patterns, and sandals and shoes made of supple leather. Jewelry pieces forged of brass, silver, and even gold were offered in open cases for all to see and touch. Glistening gems were displayed on trays of white linen. Miniature ivory figurines dangled on strings attached to wooden beams at eye level, swaying gently in the air.

  One vendor offered live snakes and lizards, kept in wooden cages. He summoned a small crowd and dropped a mouse into a cage. A brown snake struck it with a rapid jolt. The mouse ran around the cage a few times and dropped. Its tiny paws twitched while the snake swallowed it, starting from the head.

  The deadly snake terrified her, yet fascination kept her watching. The vendor took another snake out of a cage and held it out to her. Deborah stepped back so quickly that she fell, making everyone laugh. The vendor turned and held the snake out to one of the men, who stopped laughing and, in his haste to get away, tripped over two other men, and all three collapsed on top of each other. Now it was Deborah’s turn to laugh.

  The sentry had been right. She couldn’t miss Orran’s shop. It was much larger than the other shops, which ranged from simple stalls to makeshift tents and temporary shacks with cloth sides and straw roofs. This shop was made of animal skins nailed to a solid frame. The hides were dyed in shades of brown, forming solid walls on three sides and a pitched roof above. Even the wooden columns and horizontal beams were wrapped, giving the place a lush, luxurious atmosphere. She touched the leather wall and was surprised by how hard it was, almost like leather armor or boots. Deborah was in awe. She had never seen a structure made of leather.

  The large space was filled with tidy piles of leather hides, arranged by the type of animal each had come from. The piles were lined up in rows, with enough space between the rows for all the customers who crowded the shop. A sharp smell permeated the place despite the open front, which allowed fresh air to circulate.

  Keeping her eyes mostly on the various leathers, Deborah glanced around surreptitiously. She expected Orran of Manasseh to look like Judge Zifron—aging, portly, and dressed according to his high position. No one in the shop fit the description. The salesmen were young men in identical vests made of black-dyed leather—the same color Vardit had applied to Deborah’s orange hair in a futile attempt to mollify Seesya. When not assisting customers, the salesmen reported to a supervisor seated at a desk on a platform in the corner. He was slightly older than the rest and never smiled.

  One of the salesmen approached her. “Can I help you?”

  “I was married two days ago.” Deborah showed him her ring. “My husband is the son of a rich man.”

  He glanced at the dusty sack on her shoulder. “Congratulations.”

  “Where is Orran of Manasseh?”

  “He’s not here. What do you need?”

  “My husband is the type of man who prefers to deal with the owner. When will Orran come here?”

  “I don’t know. He usually stays at his homestead, north of here, in the land of Manasseh.”

  “Near his tannery?”

  He laughed. “You can’t run a tannery on dry land.”

  The conversation wasn’t leading her any closer to finding Kassite, and Deborah knew she had stretched the truth quite far already. She pointed to a pile of hides. “How much for one of these?”

  “An excellent choice.” He lifted the corner of the one on top. “Cowhide, whole skin, no seams. It takes the tannery a great deal of work to accomplish this high quality. The result is as supple as Egyptian linen, but a hundred times stronger. Here, feel it. Can you tell how good this is?”

  Deborah touched the leather. “Very nice. You seem to know a lot about it.”

  He shrugged. “I’ve been working here for eight years.”

  Deborah tried to conceal her excitement. After eight years with Orran’s business, surely this salesman knew Kassite! “How expensive is this piece?”

  “Surprisingly reasonable—only three silver shekels.”

  “That’s good,” she said. “We’ll need a few dozen.”

  “Excuse me?” His eyebrows arched. “A few dozen?”

  She cursed herself silently for the foolish exaggeration. “My husband’s family has a very large house.”

  He smiled warily. “I see.”

  “This is a big shop.” She looked around. “It must require a lot of slaves to make all these leathers. Does Orran own many slaves?”

  The salesman gave her an odd look, nodding.

  “Do you know a slave named Kassite?”

  “Gassike?”

  “Kassite. He’s an Edomite slave that Orran bought in Shiloh many years ago, and someone told me—”

  “Never heard of him.”

  “I was just wondering—”

  “When is your husband coming?”

  “Soon. Very soon. I’ll look for you when he arrives.”

  He nodded and left her.

  Moving on to the next pile, Deborah felt the leather with her hand as if considering a purchase. She sensed that the salesman had answered honestly. There had been no hesitation in his voice when he said he’d never heard of Kassite. Even though Orran had many slaves, a person of high skills such as Kassite would have stood out and become known among Orran’s workers. If a longtime salesman at Orran’s shop had never heard of Kassite, what chance was there that he still worked for Orran? Either Kassite was dead, or he’d been sold off a long time ago.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Deborah saw the salesman talking with the man at the desk, both of them looking at her. She walked out of the shop and beat a hasty retreat between two stalls across the way and down another row of shops. She glanced back to make sure the men weren’t following her.

  A large tree provided shade at the edge of the fairgrounds. Deborah watched the traffic of shoppers and reflected on what had happened. The disappointment of her futile visit to Orran’s shop was crushing. Where would she go from here? Out of ideas, she decided to quell her hunger first, and then think again.

  Using a coin from the purse Obadiah had given her in Emanuel, Deborah bought bread, dry meat, and a few dates. She went to the rear of the fairgrounds and sat on the grass at the top of a steep slope overlooking the river. She ate slowly, watching the water below. When the food was finished, she felt thirsty, but Seesya had destroyed her waterskin. She climbed down the embankment to the river, wary not to lose her footing, and knelt at the water’s edge. The river was narrow here, the water deep, and the current swift. The noise drowned out all other sounds. Careful not to fall in, Deborah scooped water in her hands and slurped it.

  She climbed back up the slope, sat down, and contemplated her situation. She needed a new strategy.

  The facts were simple. She had no chance of obtaining any more information at Orran’s shop. Going to the tanner’s homestead was similarly pointless. The homestead was somewhere north of Aphek in the land of Manasseh. The trip would be hazardous, and even if she made it there safely, her arrival would raise suspicion, rewarding her with trouble rather than information. But what if she had been wrong to conclude that the salesman’s unfamiliarity with Kassite was proof that he was gone? What if the Edomite slave had concealed his special skills and had been toiling in the tannery as a lowly worker ever since arriving there eighteen years earlier? It wasn’t very likely, but it was possible. Her only choice was to find the tannery and ask for Kassite there. But where was the tannery?

  The rushing river rem
inded Deborah what Nehoshtan had explained. A tannery needed to be near a river in order to feed the soaking tubs, and it would be located downwind from the town because of the bad odors.

  Closing her eyes, Deborah recalled the view from their overnight campsite above Aphek. The Yarkon River started in the gorge and flowed west. The road that Miriam had called the Sea Highway ran parallel to the river for a while. Was Orran’s tannery located somewhere downstream on the riverbank?

  Walking back through the fairgrounds, Deborah circled around to the main road and approached the checkpoint at the narrow gorge. Two sentries were busy inspecting a wagon loaded with sacks of wheat while the owner stood by, ready with a purse of coins. She expected the sentries to stop her, but they didn’t, and she continued through to the other side.

  A short distance down the road, she found a large rock in the shade and sat down to wait. She ignored the travelers arriving from the west but took notice of those heading away from Aphek. Most of them were farmers or peasants, a few were well-to-do homestead owners, and one caravan had the appearance of foreign merchants, reminding her of Abu Zariz and his family. None of them seemed associated with a tannery.

  Chapter 33

  As time passed, Deborah was losing hope. Passing travelers looked at her curiously, and she knew it was only a matter of time before someone questioned her. She started to contemplate going back to Aphek and looking for a place to spend the night. But then, an oxcart passed by, heading downriver, that was loaded with gory cowhides.

  Shouldering her sack, Deborah followed.

  The oxcart moved slowly, and the two men who drove it never looked back. A couple of hours later, as they came around a curve high above the river, she gagged at the sudden onslaught of an awful stench. The oxcart turned off the road onto a path that went down to a large, busy compound at the riverbank. Deborah followed it, but stopped halfway down. She found a shaded spot behind a clump of bushes off the path and sat on a tree stump to acclimate to the offensive odors and observe the activity below.