Between the Wild Branches

by Connilyn Cossette

  “I will.”

  “No,” Shoshana said, gripping my arm, “Don’t tell him. He’ll destroy it.”

  “I have no choice. You are more important than a gold box.”

  I glanced over my shoulder to look into her beautiful eyes, unable to do anything more than send her off with the knowledge that I had no intention of revealing the truth to Nicaro, but that instead I chose her, my sister, and the family I’d rejected in Kiryat-Yearim over my own life. “And promise me that someday you’ll teach Elazar the game I taught you in my special place.”

  Confusion clouded her features, and I could only hope that she would somehow discern my meaning and carry the message to the man I should have called Abba.

  “Go.” I turned back to the men in front of me, keeping my ax at the ready. A muffled sound of distress came from her mouth, but from the corner of my eye I watched her limp away toward where Zevi waited in the shadows.

  I waited until she had been completely swallowed up by the darkness, begging Yahweh to be merciful and protect her, hoping that my sister had been right that her God would hear even the sincere call of a Philistine.

  Thankfully, the hiding place Zevi would take her to was only at the end of the alley in which he and Igo had been waiting, so they did not have far to go. But still, I waited as long as I could with my weapon high, glaring at Nicaro’s guards with the veneer of Demon Eyes firmly set in place. They might be armed, but they knew who I was and what I was capable of. From the looks some of them were giving me, they were still in shock that they were standing against me in the first place.

  When finally I felt Shoshana had had enough time to escape, and that even if Nicaro sent men after her she’d be safely ensconced in the hiding place we’d arranged, I let the ax drop. Let the king think he’d bested me. I trusted Azuvah’s son with Shoshana’s life.

  The guards swarmed me, picking up my weapon and binding my hands.

  “If only I’d known you were the type of fool to get caught up in a slave escape,” said Nicaro. “I must say you certainly had me and my daughter fooled.”

  I shrugged. “I was caught up in nothing.”

  Out of love, Azuvah had saved Risi and me the night that we’d fled Mataro’s home. She’d taken the beating that ultimately had killed her, leaving behind a child she did not know had survived. And now I could repay her for that love by keeping Nicaro’s eyes firmly fixed on me.

  “Don’t you see?” I said. “I’ve been doing this for years. Those two girls one of your priests purchased who happened to disappear a few weeks ago? That was me.” I baited him with a smile. “Why do you think I was so determined to be the Master of Games and marry your daughter? It gave me access to the palace so I could help even more Hebrews escape. I didn’t just live in their territory for all those years—I was adopted into a Hebrew family. You invited the enemy right into your palace.”

  Fury blazed across his face, and red crawled up his neck. “Tell me where it is, or I go after her now. And I won’t leave enough of her to be recognized.”

  I glared at him. “You control Beth Shemesh now?”

  “We do. Any Hebrews who remain pay hefty tribute.”

  “Then your commanders have been walking by it for years.”

  I smiled at him again, leaning into the lie. “It’s under the boulder. The one the wagon stopped in front of while you crouched like cowards on that hill above the valley.”

  He grimaced. “Why would the Hebrews leave it there?”

  “It killed seventy of their men,” I said. “While my sister and I watched, they opened it, and then a storm appeared from nowhere and burned the lot of them. The priests who came the next day, the ones who found my sister and me, buried the box under the boulder, too terrified to move it for fear it would destroy more of them, especially after we told them what happened to our cities. They even pretended to hide it up in the hills in a tent, but of course no one has been inside for nearly twenty years to discover that it is empty.” I laughed. “And here you’ve been searching all over and it was in the very place you left it all those years ago.”

  Nicaro folded his arms over his chest, locking on me that sharp ocean-eyed gaze that made many lesser men crumble. “If what you say is true, then it will be easy enough to determine. In fact”—he grinned—“you’ll be the one digging it up. And if it’s not where you say it is, it’ll be your grave.”

  I’d guessed as much, but if a daylong trek to Beth Shemesh gave Shoshana and the others time to get back to Kiryat-Yearim via the northern route we’d planned to avoid main roadways, then my life was worth the sacrifice. My allegiance to the Philistines had been a misguided one from the start. If only I’d learned that lesson while I still lived in Elazar and Yoela’s home.

  Instead, I’d yearned for a place that was replete with wickedness, that worshipped death and enslaved innocent men, women, and children. I’d rejected those who called themselves my brothers and sisters for a cousin who’d used, manipulated, and ultimately betrayed me for the sake of his greed. I’d done very little in my twenty-five years that was of true worth, so this would be a fitting end, and at least one that would help ensure that the Hebrews’ treasure remained hidden. It was a paltry atonement for my sins, but it was the only thing I had to offer. I’d betrayed them all before by walking away in anger. I would not do it again by revealing the truth of the Ark’s location.

  “But before you go dig up that abominable thing,” said the king, “you’ll fight.”

  I flinched, astounded by his words. “What?”

  “I’ve invested far too much for this festival to fail, Lukio. It will be successful and make Ashdod the most powerful city in Philistia. You may be a traitor, but at least your hard work on these events won’t go to waste.”

  “You still want me to fight?”

  “Of course. They want Demon Eyes and that’s who they will get.”

  “And if I refuse?”

  His lips curled upward. “I thought perhaps you might ask that.” He turned to the nearest guard. “Show our friend who we happened to come across on our way here.”

  The man hurried off and within only a few moments brought forward a bound and gagged Teitu.

  “I do believe this is your trusted manservant. But this poor fellow only has one eye,” said Nicaro, with false compassion. “It would be tragic if he lost the other.”

  Growling, I pulled against the three men who were holding me in place.

  “So, I will make you a bargain. You will win every one of the four bouts. You will play your part as the champion of Ashdod. You will rile the crowds and smile and give me the glory for each match. But for every contest you lose, or every time you fail to show me the proper obeisance, he’ll lose another piece of himself. Starting with that second eye.”

  Twenty-Nine

  Shoshana

  Galit was so quiet on the pallet next to me that I sat up to ensure that she was still breathing and was relieved when her chest rose and fell. I surveyed her poor battered face, heartsick at the violence she’d endured, along with the loss of Avel, who’d sacrificed himself in a vain attempt at protecting her from the guards.

  I’d been so grateful that Zevi had led us from his hiding place among the shadows to a back door only about thirty paces away, since I hadn’t been certain whether Galit would have made it much farther.

  When the boy had knocked on the door, I’d been terrified that it was a mistake. Surely someone who lived so close to the palace would not be involved in this rescue, but the moment the door opened and a low voice spoke into the darkness, I’d known it was my friend from the shed. He’d ushered us in without question, put us in a back room with food and soft bedding, and assured us that we would leave the city first thing in the morning. He’d been so kind last night, splinting Galit’s broken arm and tending to her wounds, and mine, with almost fatherly concern.

  But for as grateful as I was that the three of us and the gray dog were safe for now, the thought of leaving Lukio
behind to suffer an unknown fate, as well as never seeing my daughter again, was almost more than I could bear. Grief had filled every part of my body as I lay unsleeping next to Galit.

  Just before dawn, the door to our sanctuary opened, and I got my first glimpse of the man I’d met in secret all those months. Dark hair, threaded with silver, deep-set brown eyes, and a thick beard. I was surprised to note that he could pass for a Hebrew, but his clothes and bearing were Philistine through and through. It was plain to see that he was a man of some influence, which made his motives for all of this even more bewildering.

  A young man who looked to be about eighteen or so entered with him. Their similar appearance, the long nose and the shape of his mouth, caused me to think they were related in some way. A son, perhaps? He also looked vaguely familiar to me, but I was not certain where I’d seen him before.

  At the intrusion, Igo came to his feet but remained near Zevi, who was still prone on his bed in gape-mouthed exhaustion. The poor child had been so distraught when I’d told him of Lukio’s capture that I half-worried he would charge out the door and take on Nicaro himself. Igo, too, had been unsettled when Lukio did not return, his ears pricking up at every foreign sound long after Zevi had finally drifted off to sleep.

  “Here are some fresh clothes for you.” My once-secret friend, whose name I’d finally learned was Jaru, laid a bundle on a nearby table. “We need to get you out of the city right away. Thankfully, the festival will be starting soon so the streets will be full and the guards at the gate overwhelmed with spectators making their way to the arena for the dedication ceremony this morning.”

  “Are we putting your family in danger by being in your home?”

  He shook his head. “I’ve sent my wife and daughters away for a few days, just to be safe. And my son Teo here is fully aware of what I do.” He glanced over at the young man with a rueful smile. “Since he discovered my secret by accident a few months ago, he’s been involved as well.”

  Understanding struck as I remembered where I’d seen Teo before. “He’s a palace guard, isn’t he?”

  “He is. He’s been watching over you and your friends for a while now. In fact, he knew who you were before I did.”

  Astonished, my gaze went back and forth between the two of them. Just how many nameless, faceless friends had I been protected by without knowing it? But there was no time to ask about the past. I must focus only on what came next.

  “The sun is already coming up,” I said. “How will we escape Ashdod? Aren’t the guards at the city gates looking for us?

  “Have no fear.” Jaru’s tone was soothing but strong. “We organized this all very carefully. And even with the change in plans due to your arrest, I believe we will have little trouble. Lukio entrusted you to me, and I will not let him down.”

  I nodded, a glut of gratitude and grief choking off my words.

  “I will do all I can for him, Shoshana.” He frowned, brows pinched with regret. “If I did not have a family to protect . . .”

  “You have done far more than we could’ve ever hoped. You’ve saved many women and children. On behalf of my people, I thank you.”

  He nodded, lips pressed into a tight line and some indeterminable emotion in his dark eyes. “There is someone here to see you. But you’ll have only a few moments before we must load you all into the wagon.” He turned to his son. “Go ahead and bring her in, Teo.”

  Teo disappeared for only a moment, then ushered in a small female figure shrouded in a linen headscarf that veiled her face and carrying a bundle against her chest.

  When she removed the covering, I slapped my hands to my mouth so I would not cry out. Because not only was my mistress Mariada standing in front of me, but the bundle moved, and one tiny foot poked out. Jaru and his son left the room as I gaped at the impossible scene in front of me, Teo glancing back twice over his shoulder as if he, too, were shocked that the king’s daughter was standing in his home with a baby in her arms.

  My knees went weak and tears blurred my vision as the door closed behind the men.

  “I could not let you leave without her,” she said.

  “How did you . . . ?”

  She grinned. “You didn’t think you were the only one skilled at sneaking about the palace, did you? I slipped into Tela’s room well before dawn and took her, then strolled out the door without disturbing her sleep, or the wet nurse’s. The guards did not even question me or ask to see what I was carrying—I am the daughter of the king, after all. And then I came right here.”

  “But, my lady . . .”

  “Mariada,” she pressed. “You are no longer my maid.”

  “Mariada, they will be furious. What if they—?”

  She put up a palm to stop my argument. “I do not care. This is your child, not Tela’s. I wasn’t able to keep you together when she was born, but I can now. And I will never regret it, no matter what they say or do.”

  A squawk came from the bundle in her arms, and she smiled down at it. “I think someone is awake and ready to meet her mother.”

  My feet would not move for some reason, and as Mariada approached, it felt as though I was caught up in some sort of dream. And then, just as swiftly as she’d been taken from my arms, my daughter was in them again.

  Her sweet little face peered up at me, a pinch of curiosity between her wispy brows but none of the fear I’d expected. I greedily drank in everything about her: her hair, which was similar in color to mine, enormous grayish eyes, and rosy lips that pushed out as she met my gaze.

  “Shalom, Davina,” I said, using the name I’d called her in my heart from the moment of her birth. Finally being able to call her my “cherished one” aloud permanently wiped away whatever Philistine name Tela had bestowed upon her. I tightened my hold, brushed my finger over her soft cheek, and was rewarded with a sleepy smile. Tears streaming, I pressed a kiss to her forehead.

  “I can never thank you enough,” I said to Mariada. “I don’t even understand how you knew to come here.”

  “Lukio told me everything, Shoshana—that he was your secret childhood friend and how you came to be separated from each other in such a tragic way. I insisted on helping rescue you, as I owed you that much and more.”

  The idea that the girl who’d once owned me would feel as though she was in my debt had my mind reeling. It was I who would be forever grateful to her for her unexpected kindnesses.

  “I’m just glad he trusted me enough to tell me where to deliver your little one when we planned the rescue,” she said. “When I heard he’d been arrested, I nearly panicked. But I could not let you suffer one more day without your daughter.”

  Her smile was tinged with sorrow. “I am so sorry about what Amunet and my father have done, both to you and to Lukio. You should be together, especially after all you’ve both been through. I wish I could do something to free him.”

  But even as the favored youngest daughter, I doubted she could do anything for a man deemed a traitor by the king. And if it was revealed that she’d taken part in the kidnapping of Tela’s baby, she would be punished for certain. Gratitude for her kindness, and for the risks she took to reunite me with Davina, washed over me in a powerful wave.

  “Please forgive me for deceiving you,” I said. “But know that Lukio and I did not mean to hurt you. He was determined to honor his promise to you.”

  She waved a hand in dismissal. “Had I known he loved you, I would have never even considered being his bride. I can only pray that the gods will somehow give both of us our hearts’ desire.”

  Let it be as she says, Yahweh, I thought.

  “I must go and find someplace to hide for the day, so they don’t track me here. But I need to replace my precious burden with something else, just in case I’m seen. . . .” She searched around the room for a moment before snatching up one of the small pillows I’d slept on last night. “Perfect!” Grinning at her own cleverness, she wrapped the fabric she’d carried my daughter in around the pillow to creat
e a bundle of similar size and then kissed me on the cheek. “I will miss you so much.”

  “Thank you for saving both of us—twice,” I said. Then in my own language, I spoke the priestly blessing over her, my heart aching as I wished that Oshai were here to do it for me.

  “What did you say?” She peered at me curiously.

  “I asked my God, Yahweh, to watch over you, be gracious to you, and to give you peace.”

  She smiled at me one more time and then glanced down at the baby, her blue eyes shimmering before she lifted the linen covering over her head and headed toward the door.

  “Be safe, my friend,” she said over her shoulder as she disappeared from my life.

  How odd that she’d ever thought herself cowardly. For the rest of my days, I would count her as one of the bravest women I’d ever known.

  After Galit and I donned the new clothing provided by Jaru—fine garments that must belong to his wife or daughters—we were ushered out the back door by Teo while the sun was still low in the sky. A large wagon with a canopy of woven reeds awaited us, as did several Philistine soldiers.

  Jarred by the sight and terrified we were being taken back to the palace, I hesitated crawling into the wagon bed, but one of the soldiers leaned close and whispered to me in the Hebrew tongue.

  “Have no fear, sister,” he said, “Yahweh is with us.”

  Although I had no explanation for Hebrew men dressed as Philistines, I had little choice but to allow the man to help me into the wagon, where I was instructed to crawl into an enormous wide-mouth grain pot and crouch inside as he held my child. I did as I was instructed, thankful for my small stature, but not at ease until he returned Davina to my arms, along with a jar of honeyed goat milk. Then he placed a loose-woven linen covering over the opening and secured us inside by tying it closed. I was thankful that it was still cool and hopeful that our escape from the city would not take long, or else the stagnant air would become stifling for the two of us, no matter how breathable the linen was over our heads.

  I listened as Galit was carefully rolled into a linen canopy near the back of the wagon, her injuries preventing her from crouching in a grain pot like me. Zevi and Igo were made to lay flat on the wagon bed, the boy speaking gently to the dog and reassuring him as they were covered with a pile of palm fronds. If anyone could keep the animal calm, it was Zevi. He seemed to have the same way with beasts as Lukio.