Haman stood in the shadows of the caravansary. He watched the activities of the main courtyard carefully. It was a quiet time of the day and there were only two camel drivers in the area. He watched them check their camels and go off together. Now was his chance. He looked around furtively and then straightened his shoulders and strolled out to one of the camels. He looked around again. There was no sign of the camel drivers returning. He saddled the camel and mounted, giving the command for the animal to rise. The beast stood reluctantly and Haman urged it toward the gate that led to the road outside Shechem.
Haman thought ruefully of his horse. It had been a good animal, but unfortunately Haman had sold him. Just when he was congratulating himself on the ease with which he had gotten the camel, he glanced to his right and saw Caleb standing defiantly by the gate.
Haman thought quickly. Appearing to be in no hurry, he ordered the camel to kneel and dismounted.
“You did well in your lessons today?” he asked sternly.
The boy looked startled, then stared at him resentfully. His eyes were suspicious. Haman didn’t usually ask about his school or anything else he did.
“I have an errand I need you to help me with, Caleb.”
“You told Mama you had gone with the caravan, but I knew you didn’t go. I saw you.” His tone was accusing.
“I had to change my mind and . . . return. There is a matter I needed to attend to. Come with me.”
Fear showed in the boy’s eyes, but he faced Haman bravely. “Shiva is expecting me in his shop. He does not like me to be late.”
“I have already spoken to Shiva. He will expect you to be a little later today.” Haman lied smoothly. “Come, I have something to show you.”
Caleb appeared puzzled. “Are you going to join a caravan?”
“I told you I have something to show you. It has to do with your father.”
“Papa? What do you want to show me?”
“You will see. Have you ever ridden on a camel, Caleb?”
Caleb eyed the camels and looked back at Haman. Clearly he was torn between suspicion and a desire to ride one of the great beasts. “Where are we going?”
“Just a short distance outside the gates. You will be back in time to give Shiva a good account of your adventure.”
“Adventure?”
Haman smiled in a friendly way. “Every boy wants an adventure, does he not? I have been harsh with you . . . for my own reasons. I merely wish to make it up to you.”
Caleb approached cautiously, and Haman helped him climb into the saddle. Caleb had never been on a camel before. Haman barely contained his pleasure. This was easier than he thought. He couldn’t let the boy tell anyone which direction he had gone. Now he would have to do something with Caleb. Perhaps he could leave the boy somewhere. He climbed up behind Caleb and raised the animal again. As the camel raised its hindquarters, Caleb hung on for dear life and almost pitched forward over the camel’s head. The camel then raised his front legs and stood arrogantly, chewing its cud.
Haman gathered the reins and they moved out the gates of the caravansary into the narrow valley.
When they had gone some distance from the town, Caleb looked back, suddenly alarmed. “I . . . I wish to go back now.”
Haman ignored him, urging the camel on.
“I wish to go back now, Haman, please.”
“Now that would not be very convenient for me, boy. I have gone to a lot of trouble to plan this trip. Surely you would not disappoint me by ending it so soon.”
The boy’s eyes grew wide with fear. He looked at Haman and then at the ground, and then before Haman could grab him, he had swung a leg over and jumped to the ground, going down on his knees. He straightened up quickly and ran as fast as he could go toward a grove of trees.
Cursing his negligence for not tying the boy to the camel when he had the chance, Haman gave chase. Finally he barked a command and waited impatiently for the camel to kneel. He dismounted quickly and ran in the direction Caleb had gone. He must catch him before he got back to the town. He cursed as he ran. This had gotten out of hand. He heard footsteps running ahead of him and then a sharp cry of pain. He caught up to Caleb who was lying on the ground, gripping his ankle.
“Well, well,” he said nastily as he grabbed the boy. “It seems you and your father have an ability to fall down at the wrong time.” He jerked the boy up on his feet.
Caleb winced with pain and looked at him with alarm. “What do you mean?”
“You are both clumsy fools.” He took his sash and tied the boy’s hands.
Caleb stared at Haman. “Did you kill my papa?” A sob escaped him. “The men were right. You are a murderer. We know all about you. They told us. They will catch you and you will be sorry.” Caleb spat the words and his eyes blazed with hatred and anger as Haman half dragged him back in the direction of the camel. He had left the beast near an outcropping of rocks.
The camel was nowhere to be seen. Haman cursed loudly, nearly beside himself with anger and frustration. The animal was trained—they did not usually wander off. Someone had taken it. He cursed again at the irony of it and thought about his options. He could not take Caleb back to Shechem . . . not now that the boy knew what direction he was going. He could still try to make the caravan, but it was too far by foot and alone. He could travel faster if he returned to Shechem to the caravansary for a means of transportation.
Caleb began to sob again and Haman raised his hand to strike him. Caleb tried to pull away and free his wrists. Suddenly a voice spoke nearby.
“Would you strike down the boy as you struck down my brother, murderer?”
Haman whirled around and recognized the two men who had come upon the scene at the death of the merchant. They led his camel as they came from behind the outcropping of rocks
“You!”
“Did you think we fell for the clumsy ruse of your servant?” Zadok smirked. “It seems his reputation precedes him. Who can believe the word of the son of a camel driver? Hmmmm?” He drew his sword from its scabbard, moving slowly forward, his eyes glittering. Manahath also drew his sword and moved toward Haman’s other side. Haman had let go of the sash that bound Caleb and brandished his knife as he prepared to defend himself.
Manahath moved quickly and with the tip of his sword, cut the bonds that bound Caleb. “You are from Shechem? This is a matter of honor and we have no quarrel with you. Go quickly. Tell them Zohar, the Avenger of Blood, has found justice and returned honor to his family.”
Caleb backed off slowly. “He is a murderer?”
Manahath nodded. “He is a murderer. His victims will be avenged. Go, boy, return to Shechem.” Caleb ran.
“Fools!” Haman cried as they closed in on him. “I didn’t kill the merchant. I killed the thief who robbed him. It is he who killed your brother. You must believe me!” Haman’s voice took on a pleading tone as he turned toward Zadok.
“And who took his bag of gold? You are a thief as well as a murderer,” Zadok spat at him.
“You gave me no choice. You wouldn’t listen to me then either!”
“If you were innocent, why did you not go to the elders of the city to plead your case? It is because guilt has kept you silent, son of a dog!”
As Caleb began to run toward Shechem, he heard Haman’s bloodcurdling scream of terror and then silence. Then the only sound was the pounding of Caleb’s feet on the soft earth and his gasps for breath as he ran for all he was worth.
Hoofbeats sounded behind him and Caleb looked frantically for a place to hide. He turned to see Manahath riding toward him with Haman’s camel in tow.
“Stop, boy. I mean you no harm. We are not thieves. This camel is yours?”
Caleb gulped with relief. “It belongs to the caravansary in Shechem.”
Manahath ordered the camel to kneel. “Mount. We will return to Shechem.”
Caleb climbed gingerly onto the camel and they rode in silence to within a short distance of the city gates and the carav
ansary.
Manahath dropped the reins of Caleb’s camel. “You can go on from here, boy?” His face was not unkind.
Caleb nodded.
The camel, smelling water and food, ambled on toward the caravansary as Caleb hung on for dear life. Men came out and took hold of the camel, bringing it into the courtyard. One of the camel drivers commanded the camel to kneel and Caleb was helped down. The camel driver looked at Caleb.
“What were you doing on this camel? We have ways to deal with camel thieves!”
“Leave the boy alone!” It was Ajah, the man who ran the caravansary. He stepped quickly to Caleb’s side.
“I know this boy. Let go of him.” He turned to Caleb. “Tell us what happened.”
Caleb blurted out the words, “Haman took the camel. He made me go with him. There were two men . . . they have killed Haman.”
“Killed Haman?” The men who had gathered around began to murmur among themselves. Voices were raised in anger.
“We will overtake the murderers . . .”
“Saddle the camels . . .”
Caleb looked around at them. “No! We must not go after them. They said to say, ‘Zohar, the Avenger of Blood, has wrought justice and returned honor to his family.’ He said Haman killed his brother . . .” He hung his head. “I think he killed my papa.”
Ajah held up his hand. “No one will go after them. Justice has been done. Haman has paid for his crimes with his life.” He turned to the camel driver. “Did they not return to you the camel Haman stole? They did not harm the boy. We will return him to his family and consider the matter closed.”
The men murmured their assent. Ajah was a just man and fair in his dealings. His word was enough for them.
Ajah turned to Caleb. “I will see you to your family. This is not news to be borne by a boy alone.”
Marah saw Caleb coming in the gate with a strange man. From the look on the boy’s face, she knew something was wrong. Caleb ran and buried his face against her.
The man bowed slightly to her. “I am Ajah of the caravansary. I’m afraid I bring sad news to you. Your husband, Haman, is dead.”
Elon had come out of the house. “Haman is dead? How did this happen?”
Caleb looked up at his grandfather. “The Avenger of Blood killed him. He was a murderer, just like those men said.”
Ajah nodded sadly. “He stole a camel and I believe he was going to kidnap the boy. Evidently, according to your son, the men caught up with him, set the boy free, and took their revenge for the man Haman murdered.”
With a gasp, Marah held Caleb tightly to her. “Haman was going to kidnap you?”
“He saw me watching him. I think that he didn’t want me to tell anyone where he was going. He told me he wanted to show me something, but I got scared and jumped off the camel. He said something about a journey, a caravan he wanted to meet. He was going to take me with him.”
Slave traders! Marah looked anxiously at his face. “And he changed his mind?”
He told them of his flight to the trees, his capture, and of returning to find the camel missing. “The men were hiding behind the rocks. And Mama, he . . . he said I was clumsy, like Papa.” Caleb began to weep again.
Elon smote his breast and shook his head sadly. “It was an evil day when my nephew came to Shechem.”
Ajah was watching Marah. She had gasped at Caleb’s words, but stood with dignity, her eyes filled with the anguish of her soul.
Somehow in her heart, Marah had suspected but didn’t want to believe it. She looked at Ajah sadly. “I thank you for your kindness in bringing my son back safely to us.”
“My men have gone to recover the body. It will not be . . . pleasant. I have seen this before. Do you wish me to see to his burial?”
Elon stepped forward. “We will bury him. I owe it to my brother Jemuel.” He looked at Marah and Caleb. “My family thanks you for your kindness.”
Ajah gave them a look of understanding. “Peace be with you.” With a slight bow he turned and strode purposefully away.
Marah gathered the trembling emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. She must not falter for the sake of Caleb and Elon. Tomorrow she would once again bury a husband. She took a deep breath.
“Caleb,” she said, holding him by the shoulders, “let us see to the animals.”
He looked at her a moment. He wiped his eyes and stood tall before her. “Yes, Mama,” he said bravely, and began to gather the chickens. Marah untied the goat and led her to her pen. Elon turned and slowly went into the house. He had lost his wife, then his son, and now the nephew he welcomed so readily was a murderer, killed for his crime. His steps were heavy.
Marah knew it was better for Caleb to be busy after his ordeal. They must let family life get back to normal. But what was normal? At twenty-four she was a widow for the third time.
Looking up at the sky, she breathed a silent prayer. Oh God Who Sees Me, look down upon Your servant. I do not know what to do. Help us, I pray. She bowed her head and stood quietly for a moment as she felt peace settle about her. Haman was gone and with him the turmoil of her life. The God of all the heavens knew His way. The neighbors would know soon enough, and there would be a dead body laid out to make their household unclean. She felt sorry for Haman, to meet such an end. In his way he had loved her. She had not been able to return that love, and it had twisted his mind. She thought of him as he first came—charming, witty, full of stories. She kept that picture firmly in her mind. One day, she must forgive him. Now, all she could think of was Jesse and the fact that because of Haman she had lost her husband and almost lost their son. She raised her head, gathered her strength, and entered the house to prepare their evening meal.
PART VI
Ahmal
38
Ahmal had been on the trade routes for three months and was weary of travel. As his men took care of the animals, he looked around the compound. Where was Haman? He was sent word of their arrival. There was merchandise to distribute and sell. Impatiently, Ahmal called one of the men over.
“Where is Haman? We have work to do.”
“My lord Ahmal, Haman is dead.”
“Dead? He is dead? How did this happen?”
The servant related the news as he had heard it only a couple of weeks before. He had been near the gate of the village when they had brought in the body of Haman.
Ahmal listened to the tale, astonished.
“Haman a murderer? He may have been many things, but I find it hard to believe he was that.”
“Master Ajah was there, my lord, he can tell you. It was the boy who told us what happened.”
“A boy?”
“Yes, my lord, young Caleb, son of Jesse.”
Ahmal stroked his beard. This was distressing news. He thought of Marah and her father-in-law. She was an admirable woman considering what she had endured. He knew Haman and disliked him, for he had suspected Haman of theft. He did his job well and had a way with the other merchants, and Ahmal had debated on how to approach the matter. Now it was settled for him. There was no longer the unpleasant task of confronting the man. Ahmal wondered how his widow and family were faring. He must call upon them in any case and present his regrets for their circumstances. He stood thoughtfully a few moments, and then after making sure the merchandise was being unloaded properly, he put one of his men in charge and went to refresh himself . . . and speak with Ajah.
Ajah shook his head. “A bloody business, my friend. They decapitated him and ran him through. He had only a dagger. Not much of a defense against the swords they wielded.” Ajah looked out over the caravansary. “I had my men prepare the burial casket for his widow. She buried him . . . a gruesome task for the family.” He turned back to Ahmal. “There have been many things of concern in your absence, Ahmal.”
Ahmal nodded. “I know. I reviewed the accounts before I left. There were, shall we say, errors?”
“Was the family aware?”
He rose and sighed heavily. “I d
o not believe they knew. They are good people. I’ll not burden them with Haman’s misdeeds. It is a matter best forgotten.” He looked meaningfully at Ajah.
Ajah nodded reflectively. “It is best forgotten.”
Within the hour Ahmal was on his way to the house of Haman.
“Peace be upon this household.”
“My lord Ahmal.” Marah bowed her head respectfully and welcomed him to their home.
“I wish to extend my sympathy for what you have gone through recently.” He nodded to Elon who stood leaning on his staff.
“It is a kindness that you grace our humble home,” said Elon, moving toward their visitor.
Ahmal seemed to be watching Marah. “You grieve for Haman.”
Marah looked into his face and saw compassion and concern. She bowed her head. “Haman was not all he seemed, my lord.”
He nodded, stroking his beard. “And the boy? How is Caleb doing?”
“He is well. He will soon be of age. He is growing as tall as his father.” She spoke with pride. “Soon he returns from the shop of Shiva the carpenter, where he is an apprentice.”
“He follows in his father’s footsteps, eh?” Ahmal smiled broadly.
“May we offer you some refreshment?” Marah thought quickly of what she could bring out for their guest. There was little in the house.
“Ah, I almost forgot. How careless of me. I have brought a few small gifts, in that your husband, Haman, worked for me. I would have sent them the week of mourning, had I but been here.”
Elon waved a hand and stood proudly. “That is not necessary, my lord. You have been a friend to our family. There is no need for you to trouble yourself.”
“It has brought me such pleasure in gathering these things. You would grieve me to the heart should I have to return with them intact.” He looked genuinely injured.
Marah looked quickly at Elon. “Father Elon, how can we cause our friend ill feelings?”
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