Between the Wild Branches

by Connilyn Cossette

  Once the five of us were settled, Jaru whispered again that there was no cause to fear but reminded us to remain quiet until he announced we were free from the city. As the oxen lurched forward, I soaked the end of a twisted linen cloth in the milk and put it in Davina’s mouth. She suckled at it greedily, her lashes fluttering in pleasure at the taste. Within only a few minutes, she whimpered for more, and I indulged her, hoping that it would keep her well occupied until we were past the gates. She seemed not at all bothered by the fact that she’d awakened earlier in my arms instead of the Egyptian wet nurse who’d been caring for her since birth. It was almost as if she sensed who I was, even though she’d never seen me before.

  As we bumped along through the city, the sounds of excited chatter mixed with the call of vendors, everyone anticipating the competitions they would be watching today. I heard the name of Demon Eyes more than once and wondered if the people would revolt when they discovered that the fighter whom they so revered was imprisoned and would not be entertaining them today.

  The wagon shuddered over a bump in the road, jostling my daughter and me within the enormous grain pot. Davina whimpered, but I shushed her and then softly hummed a gentle tune while soaking the rag with the sweet milk again. As I placed the end in her mouth, she brought her tiny hand to mine and held on, making joyful tears prick at my eyes, in spite of the precarious situation we were in. After a few more moments, her lashes fluttered heavily as she slid into milk-laden slumber, even as she continued to suck on the cloth, and I wondered if perhaps in addition to honey the milk contained something to help her sleep.

  After countless stops and starts through the busy street, we were halted by guards at the gate. I took up a cycle of breathless prayers to Yahweh that we would pass through without notice amidst the chaos.

  “I’m taking these supplies to my men out at the arena,” said Jaru from his place at the front of the wagon.

  “I understand,” said one of the men, “but we’ve been instructed not to let cargo pass through without checking. There was a prison break last night, as you know.”

  Jaru laughed. “Of course I know, Paito. I’m the one who assigned you to this detail.”

  I sucked in a breath at the revelation, as a number of details clicked into place. My secret friend was not only an influential man in Ashdod, he was the head of the royal guard. No wonder we’d been able to meet in the wine cellar under guard and that he’d been able to come and go into the palace with ease. He’d even been the one to assign his own son to watch over us.

  “Zakaro,” said Jaru, sounding more annoyed than worried, “hop up here and check the cargo so Paito is satisfied, will you? We are running late. The ceremonies will begin soon and there is a long line behind us.”

  My pulse doubled in speed as the wagon bounced with the added weight of the man named Zakaro. What was Jaru doing? What possible reason would he have for putting all of us in danger of being discovered, especially when his own family might be accused of treachery if we were caught in his wagon?

  “New men, Jaru?” came Paito’s voice as Zakaro poked about, and I pleaded with Yahweh to keep Zevi and Igo still beneath the palm fronds.

  “Yes,” replied Jaru, his voice untroubled, “I’ve brought in a few recruits from a village outside of Ekron. You know how difficult it is to train some of these younger ones these days. I found a few who actually know which end of the sword hurts.”

  After the two of them shared a hearty laugh at his jest, they continued discussing the sad state of the younger generation and then moved on to the fights today. When I heard the rustle of a body near my hiding place, I held my breath, willing Zakaro to be blind to our obvious presence.

  Suddenly, the linen cover atop my pot was peeled away, and a face hovered over the opening. All my hopes for escape were dashed to pieces. I’d only held Davina in my arms for less than an hour. How could I possibly lose her so quickly?

  “Nothing!” yelled the young man above me, even as he met my startled gaze. “Just supplies back here. Roasted barley, some beer jugs, shade canopies, and such.”

  Then, just before he replaced the linen cover, Zakaro winked at me.

  Relief poured from my eyes, and I pressed my palm tight against my mouth to muffle the sob that demanded escape. Now I knew why Jaru had been so unconcerned about being stopped at the gate. He’d assigned this young man here today for this express purpose, because Zakaro had been the same guard who’d watched over us for all those months in the wine cellar. The same guard I’d prayed over each time I’d slipped past him to meet my friends.

  As the wagon lurched forward again, taking us away from the city in which I’d endured so much humiliation and sorrow, I slumped back against the side of the pot and wept silently. I may be going toward home with my daughter in my arms, but once again I was leaving Lukio behind. And this time he was in the hands of a ruthless king whose murderous ways I’d now seen with my own eyes. There was no chance that I would ever see my love again.

  Have mercy on him, Yahweh, I breathed as I finally allowed grief to close in around me. Do not let him suffer.

  Thirty

  Zevi and Igo bounded ahead of us on the trail, the boy insisting that he must scout ahead as we ascended toward the summit of the mountain. Of course, I knew this trail like the back of my own hand and had since I was a girl, but I said nothing, allowing him to feel useful.

  After we parted from Jaru, once the wagon could no longer traverse the terrain, Zevi had found his way to my side while we walked and, after much prodding on my part, told me the entire story of his rescue and about his time in Lukio’s grand residence. My chest ached for the boy who had undoubtedly begun to look up to the man who’d saved him, perhaps even regarded him as a father figure of sorts. No wonder he’d been so grieved over Lukio’s capture.

  Sensing he was still uncertain of me, I’d kept my eyes trained ahead as I told him that no matter what happened, he and Igo would always have a home with me and my family. He’d not responded then, but since that conversation, he’d not gone more than a few moments without turning around to keep me in his sights, as if he worried I might disappear.

  It was more than obvious why Lukio had so easily connected to him. Zevi was just like he’d been as a boy: a bit suspicious, overflowing with pain, desperate for acceptance, and deeply wounded. If only Lukio were here to help me understand him, to teach him to be a man and guide him through the rough patches that were most assuredly to come.

  A few paces behind me, Galit rode astride a donkey, one Jaru had purchased from a farmer along the journey with twice its worth in silver. The captain of the royal guard had been so kind to make certain my friend did not have to walk all the way to Kiryat-Yearim, a journey that had taken us most of yesterday and half of today. My own foot had bothered me as we walked, and Galit had offered many times for me to take a turn on her donkey, but I’d refused since she was still in so much pain. The tenderness in my foot was nothing compared to what she’d endured at the hands of the guards.

  So, I pushed through the pain, determined to reach Elazar’s house by midday. Once we entered the Ayalon Valley in the territory of Dan, we all breathed a bit easier. But it wasn’t until we began climbing the mountain of Kiryat-Yearim that I relaxed. Enclosed by the trees I’d explored with Lukio so long ago, I finally felt safe again.

  The Hebrew men who’d accompanied us out of Ashdod, dressed as Philistine soldiers, had insisted on remaining with us until we arrived at our destination, and I’d been astounded to discover that Lukio had rescued them at the same time he’d saved Zevi. One of the men spoke with such reverence about the Philistine who’d helped his daughters survive the ordeal, but who also had been visibly distressed about his inability to save the man’s wife from being sold to some unknown place from which she would never return.

  “I will go fetch my daughters soon, since Jaru told me where to find them,” said the man. “But for Lukio’s sake, I will not leave your side until you are safely home.
I owe him a great debt and that is what he would have wanted.”

  The words were so final, sounding more like a promise to a dead man than one who still breathed. Jaru had told me before he turned his wagon back toward Ashdod that the king had not immediately put Lukio to death, as I’d feared, but instead said that he would fight all four of his matches before showing them where the Ark was hidden.

  My Lukio still lived and breathed in this world for now, but if he refused to lead the Philistines to the Ark—which, after unraveling the message he’d given me for Elazar, I was convinced he would not do—there would be no mercy for him. His fierce and beautiful heart would not beat much longer.

  I could not even bring myself to hope that Jaru might somehow find a way to save him. I could not expect him to put his family in more danger than they already were. All I could do was pray. Please, Yahweh, I repeated, for the thousandth time since leaving Ashdod, do not let him suffer. Send him a comforter. Envelop him in peace.

  The closer we came toward the upper portion of the mountain, where Elazar’s home was located, the more my heart raced. I’d spent the last sixteen months convincing myself that my children were safe here, cared for by the family that had adopted Lukio and Eliora all those years ago. It had been the hope that sustained me for all this time and helped me to survive everything I’d endured. But what if I’d been wrong? What if the young man I’d sent them with on that awful day had not been able to protect them or hadn’t followed my instructions? Every step I took toward the summit caused another ripple of panic to flood my bones. What would I do if they were not at the end of this path, after I’d been through so much to get here?

  Davina had stayed quiet almost the entire wagon ride, but once we’d parted ways with Jaru, she’d begun to fuss. Her world had changed so much in the past day, and regardless that I was her mother, we all were still strangers to her, so I did not fault her for being uneasy. At least she’d held off making noise until we were well past the outskirts of Ashdod.

  Whenever Davina caught sight of one of the men walking with us, she pressed herself closer to my body. Although I hated that she was fearful, it did my mother’s heart good to have my baby take comfort in my embrace. She rode strapped to my back now, content to gaze up at the enormous trees that lined our path and hold tight to my braid as we climbed.

  A haze of smoke hung in the air, the scent of cook-fires mixed with the perfume of the trees, and greenery all around wrapped me in familiarity. How strange it was that I’d only visited this part of the mountain a number of times with my father for one celebration or another—and a few more times when I’d been in search of Lukio—and yet this place felt more like a home than my own ever had.

  In fact, I’d insisted we avoid the town below and head directly for Elazar’s house instead of my father’s. I had no desire to see him today, or ever again, if it could be helped. I wondered if perhaps Elazar might be willing to arrange a secret meeting with Levi and Yadon once I found a place to settle—if they were even still here after all these years. So many unknowns hounded me as we walked: where we would live, how I would sustain myself and my children, and what came next for me, Zevi, and Galit. But I pushed them all aside, determined not to fret about things I had no answers for—at least until we reached the top of the mountain.

  When we finally emerged from the twisting trail that led up the hillside, the small grouping of homes that housed Elazar’s family and a number of the Levites who guarded the Ark came into view. My heart took up an urgent drumbeat of anticipation, mixed with pulsing dread.

  Would I see the faces of my children today? Or would I never do so again? Every step closer became a prayer of supplication.

  That same frantic heartbeat nearly came to a halt when I caught sight of a group of children in the clearing up ahead, tossing a small leather ball between them and screaming with laughter when someone dropped it on the ground. My greedy eyes surveyed their faces, desperately searching for those I’d loved since the moment I’d realized they were growing inside my body. My gut twisted painfully when none of the dark-haired children resembled Asher or Aaliyah.

  I must have released a noise of dismay, because from her seat on the donkey’s back that had caught up to me when my feet slowed, Galit reached down a hand and laid it on my shoulder.

  “Breathe, my friend,” she said through her swollen lips. “Just breathe.”

  But before I could respond to her reassurances, I heard the most exquisite sound in all of creation.

  “Ima!”

  Jolted violently by the word, my knees wobbled as I searched for its source. Again, the small voice called out to me, and then my beautiful son tore out of the woods nearby, followed a few paces behind by my precious Aaliyah.

  My eyes blurred as I darted toward them, arms outstretched. On my back Davina whimpered at being jostled about, but I could not stop my feet from racing toward my children.

  When Asher’s arms came around my waist, the painful relief nearly ripped me in half. As soon as Aaliyah was within two paces of me, I reached out and dragged her to me as well, finally allowing my tears to fall in a flood of gratitude and grief.

  “Ima! We’ve missed you so much!” said Asher, his voice still high but slightly raspier than the last time I’d heard it. “Where have you been?”

  Aaliyah said nothing, her face red and her eyes squeezed tightly closed as she clung to me.

  I kissed both of their foreheads. “That is a long story that I will tell you soon. But I am just so grateful you are here and safe, my beautiful children. You both have grown so much!” I pulled them tighter, glorying in the feel of their bodies against mine and thanking Yahweh over and over for watching over them.

  When I finally allowed them a small measure of freedom from my hold, Aaliyah’s eyes went to Davina, who was peering over my shoulder in curiosity, her little grip even tighter on my braid as she took in the sight of her brother and sister.

  “I have someone for you to meet,” I said, kneeling down so they could see her better. “This is Davina, your sister.”

  Their jaws went slack as they stared at her.

  “Our sister?” Asher breathed, incredulous.

  “Yes, isn’t she sweet?” I reached back to tickle her toes, something I’d discovered made her forget her confusion and laugh with abandon. Asher echoed her giggle and reached out a hand. Davina grabbed his fingertips with a babbling squeal, and the instant she did, I could see my son fall in love. There was a light in his eyes that told me he would champion her all of his days.

  Aaliyah had still not spoken and instead studied Davina with intense interest before looking back up at me. “She is truly my sister?” she whispered tentatively, and I could not hold back the tears that fell at hearing her sweet voice again after all this time.

  “She is. And I think perhaps her eyes will one day be the same lovely color as yours. Yours used to be the same shade of gray before transforming in hazel. And I know for certain she will look up to her older sister.”

  A sob came from Aaliyah’s mouth, and she threw herself against me again, this time with her whole body shaking. I gripped her tight to my chest as she wept.

  “I thought you were dead,” she cried. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

  She must have been so shocked by my appearance that she hadn’t truly let herself believe I was real until now. I understood the feeling and did not fault her for her hesitation in accepting the truth of my return.

  “Oh, my love,” I said, pressing my lips to her hair. “Yahweh has brought us back together. And I will never leave you again.”

  Asher joined our embrace, and I felt nearly whole again for the first time in sixteen months. I looked up to find a large group gathered around us. Elazar’s wife, Yoela, and his daughters, Rina and Safira, were all in tears as they watched our reunion. A few other women who I did not know were gathered around us as well, and nearly twenty children were looking on in astonishment. At least my oft-imagined hopes of Asher
and Aaliyah having a place to laugh and play in safety had been fulfilled. There were plenty of children up here, of a variety of ages, to make friends with. I could not have sent them to a better place.

  Movement toward the back of the group drew my eye, and I was astounded to realize that Eliora and Ronen were here as well. I’d assumed they were still at Ramah, where they’d been living near Samuel the Seer these past years. Her forest-green eyes were wide with surprise as I met her gaze and her golden-brown hair spilled over her shoulder in a thick wave that reminded me far too much of her brother and the bittersweet story I must reveal to her today.

  However, Yoela came forward first, kissing my cheeks in welcome and pulling me into a motherly embrace that made my throat tighten. “We are so glad you are home, Shoshana.”

  “Thank you,” I said on a choked whisper. “And thank you for keeping my children safe. I knew this was the best and only place to send them.”

  “And you did well to make that decision. Aaliyah and Asher have been a blessing to our household. The young man who brought them here stayed as well. He now works down in Kiryat-Yearim with the tanner.”

  “I owe him everything,” I said, grateful that I would have the chance to thank the boy for being so brave and saving my children. I did not know how I would ever repay him for doing so.

  “It seems you have quite the story to tell,” she said, taking in the sight of Galit on the donkey, and Zevi, who had a firm grip on the cord around Igo’s neck—likely more for his own reassurance than to control the timid dog pressed to his side. “And I am certain you all are exhausted and hungry. But at least tell us where you have been all this time.”