Daughter of Deliverance (12 page)

“I think you saved our lives, Rahab, and I thank you.”

Rahab looked down at the limp figure. “I must take care of his arm or he will bleed to death.”

The noise of their entrance stirred the rest of the family. They came in staring, and Rahab cut all questions short. “These men are servants of the god of Israel. We must help them.”

“Where is Father?” Rahab demanded. She could still hear the voices and the treads of the soldiers outside, but they were rapidly fading.

“He and Hamath went over to visit with Machiah,” Kadir said. His eyes were fixed on the two tall strangers, and apprehension stirred in his eyes. “They've been searching everywhere for these two, don't you know it?”

“I know it,” Rahab said. “But we must help them. One of them has been wounded.” She turned and stepped closer to Ardon, who was awake again and poised as if he was planning to flee. His face was pale, and she shook her head. “You've lost so much blood. Here, lie down.”

Ardon stared at her, then at the rest of the family. “I'm all right,” he said, his voice weak.

“Don't pay any attention to him,” Othniel said urgently. “Where do you want him?” Stepping forward, he guided Ardon to a low table that Rahab indicated.

“Put him down on this,” she said. Without stopping, she turned and picked up a basin and filled it with water from a larger jug. “Get some clean cloths, Romar.”

Romar wheeled away and dashed into the other room. By the time Ardon was lying down flat on his back, she had returned.

“Help me get this garment off. It's soaked with blood.” She and Romar stripped the garment from Ardon, and Rahab shook her head. “That's going to have to be sewn up. It'll never stop bleeding.” She pressed a cloth down on the wound, saying, “Hold this, Romar.” She got up smoothly and crossed the room. She took out a needle and flax thread from a small box and threaded the needle. Then she returned and carefully told Ardon. “This is going to hurt, I'm afraid.”

When she got no answer, Othniel urged her, “Go ahead. Sew it up.”

“I've never done anything like this, but it must be done. Would you prefer to do it, sir?” Rahab said to Othniel.

“You go ahead. I'll help hold the flesh together.” Coming forward, he knelt down and held the two edges of the wound together. He watched as Rahab began to work. He knew it must be painful, but when he glanced at Ardon, he saw that his cousin's lips were pressed closely together. He did not utter a word or a groan.

Finally Rahab said in an unsteady voice, “That's the best I can do.”

“It's very good,” Othniel said. “I don't think anyone could have done it any better.”

Skillfully Rahab put a bandage on and tied it, saying, “He's going to need lots of water, and I suppose you're hungry.”

“Starved. We haven't had anything since yesterday.”

“You sit with him. My sister and I will fix something.”

****

There was no privacy in the small room, and Othniel heard every word that was spoken. While Rahab and Romar prepared the food, the girl and boy stared at Ardon curiously. Ardon had drunk plenty of water, and his color was somewhat better.

“We're going to get out of this, Ardon,” Othniel said.

“I doubt it.” Ardon's voice was weak, and he did not open his eyes. “They'll be searching everywhere for us. They must have found those bodies.”

“What bodies?” The man named Kadir asked. He was sitting on a stool across the room and appeared to be no threat.

“We were trapped outside the city by a patrol. There was a fight and we killed them.”

Rahab listened as Othniel spoke. She stole covert glances at the pair, impressed with them. They were both tall, strong men, and the one with the wound, whose name she had heard as Ardon, especially so. Their speech was a little different from those of her city, and she yearned to ask them about their people, but she said nothing.

When the simple meal was ready, Rahab said, “Here is something good to eat.”

“Can you sit up long enough to eat, Ardon?”

“I'm not hungry.”

“You've got to eat. Here, sit up and lean against the wall.”

Othniel helped Ardon to a sitting position leaning back against the wall. Rahab filled two bowls with the stew she had fixed and brought them over. She handed one to Othniel and the other to Ardon.

Othniel tasted the stew and exclaimed, “This is excellent! You're a fine cook, Rahab.”

Rahab flushed. “Thank you. It's no more than a simple stew. We'll cook something more substantial a little later.”

The boy had overcome his fear of the two men. He came over and stood beside Othniel, watching him eat, then he asked abruptly, “Do you eat children?”

Othniel was startled. He turned and stared at the boy, then laughed. “No, I don't eat children. Why do you ask?”

“He's heard rumors,” the girl said. She too had drawn closer. “You're Israelites, aren't you?”

“Yes we are.”

“We've heard all about you,” Zayna said, nodding. “That you kill everybody in wars.”

“Well, not everybody, though we have been in some battles. But,” he said, shaking his head, “we don't eat children.” He smiled and squeezed Oman's cheek. “Though if I were going to eat a boy, I think you would be a fine one to start with.” He saw the alarm and laughed. “Don't be afraid. I'm only teasing.”

Rahab introduced her family. “This is my sister Romar, her husband, Kadir, and their son, Oman. This is my younger sister, Zayna.”

“Is there anyone else here living with you?”

“My father, but he's gone—and a distant relative named Hamath.”

Othniel said, “If word gets out we're here, you'll probably be killed for harboring enemies.”

“None of us will tell,” Rahab said without hesitating. “Isn't that right? We've got to help these men, for they are the servants of the great god of Israel.”

“How did you hear about us?” Othniel asked, finishing the stew and letting Romar refill his bowl.

“Travelers stop here and tell us about everything. Also our relative, Hamath, was living in a city where Og was king.”

“That was Bashan. Og was king of Bashan.”

“That's what he said, and he told us your people came and there was a battle, and everyone in the city was killed.”

“Some of our men were killed too,” Othniel said quickly. He continued to answer their questions, then was startled when Ardon spoke.

“Why are you people doing this?”

Everyone turned toward Ardon. The bowl was in his lap, and there was a little color in his cheeks. “Why are you taking us in? We don't know you.”

Rahab replied quickly, “We have all heard of the great god that you serve. We don't know his name, but our kinsman told us all about him. What a powerful god he is. Our gods are weak and helpless. I think you've been sent to see what our soldiers and our city are like.”

When Ardon didn't answer, Othniel said, “That's right. We're scouts.”

“Then your soldiers are going to attack our city, aren't they?” Rahab said.

“Yes, they are.”

“I thought so,” Rahab said, nodding. “When I saw you it leaped into my heart that if we would help you, then maybe you would ask your god to have mercy on my family.”

Othniel waited for Ardon to speak, but he did not say a word. He felt that someone had to say something, and quickly he agreed, “That sounds fair enough. If you help us, we'll help you.”

From outside came the sound of soldiers' voices, far away but coming closer. “You can't stay in here,” Rahab said. “We've got to get them up on the roof.”

“How do you get up there?” Othniel said, quickly getting to his feet.

“Get the ladder, Romar.”

Romar disappeared and came back in right away with a short ladder. She put it up to a square hole at the corner that Othniel had not noticed. “I don't know if he can climb or not.”

“He'll have to,” Othniel said grimly. “Come along, Ardon.”

Othniel got Ardon to his feet. When they got to the ladder, however, Ardon whispered, “I don't think I can do it.”

“Here, I'll help you.” Othniel turned Ardon to face him, stooped over, and picked him up until Ardon was draped over his shoulders. Slowly and carefully he began ascending the ladder. It creaked and groaned under the heavy weight of the two men, and the family watched until Othniel's feet disappeared.

As soon as they were out of sight, Rahab turned to her family and said, “My father and Hamath must not know of this. You understand?”

“Why not?” Oman asked.

“Because this must be a secret, Oman. Nobody must know that these men are here. The soldiers would kill us all if they knew. So you must not breathe a word to anyone.”

“I won't,” Oman said.

“How are we going to keep it from Father—and Hamath?” Romar asked.

“Here's some money,” Rahab said, taking some coins out of a box in the corner. “If Father shows up, give it to him. He'll go out and drink it up. We've got to keep this from him.” Quickly she began to fill a jug with water. She put some dry food in a basket and said, “I'm going to take this up to them.” She mounted the ladder and emerged under the night sky. The moon was brighter now, and by the light of it, she could see the two Israelites. The roof had a balcony built around it, which would hide them from the view of those in the street. Of course, on the outside of the city wall there was nothing but a sheer drop to the earth far below.

“I brought you some more food and water,” Rahab said, drawing near. She knelt down and put the basket and a jug of water beside the wall. “You'll have to be quiet up here.”

“Don't worry about that,” Othniel said.

“I'll bring some blankets up. It'll get cooler tonight.”

“I thank you for what you've done. You've probably saved our lives,” Othniel said.

“It won't be safe for you to leave here for a while. The soldiers are everywhere.” She hesitated, then said, “My father must not know you're here.”

“Why not?”

Rahab shook her head. “He's not an honorable man. He would sell you for the reward I am certain the king has offered to pay for you.” She turned to Ardon. “Are you feeling any better?”

“I'm all right,” Ardon said gruffly.

“You must eat and drink all you can, and later we'll have to dress the wound.” When Ardon did not answer, she nodded and said, “Good night.”

****

As soon as Rahab disappeared, Ardon muttered, “We've got to get out of here.”

“Are you crazy! We wouldn't last out there on the streets. You can't even walk. How do you propose to get out?”

“She'll give us up.”

“Who?”

“That woman—Rahab.”

“Why would you say a thing like that?” Othniel asked with astonishment. “She's saved our lives.”

“She's a harlot. She sells herself for money. You think she wouldn't sell us?”

Othniel was disgusted. “I don't know what she is. She may be a harlot, I don't know. But she's not going to give us up. She's an honest woman. Can't you see that in her face?”

“No, I don't believe it.”

“Then you're a fool! I know you're smarter than I am, Ardon, but you don't know much about people. If she was going to give us up, she would have done so already.”

Ardon did not answer for a long time. At last he lay back and closed his eyes. “You can't trust the word of a harlot,” he whispered.

The moon shone brightly on the two men, and Othniel stared down at the face of his friend. He knew that Ardon had many good qualities, but he had long ago noticed that he had an unforgiving, harsh spirit. Once he lost his good opinion of someone, it was lost forever.

Othniel knew a little something about that because he had lost Ardon's goodwill years earlier. He waited until the woman brought the blankets, and he whispered to her, “My friend's asleep, but he's not feeling well. I want to thank you for both of us.”

“I'll do all I can to save you,” she said.

Othniel stared at the woman and smiled. “I believe you will, Rahab.” She went down the ladder, and Othniel turned and quickly covered Ardon with a blanket. Then he sat down and raised his eyes to the stars. He was not much of a praying man, but he knew they were indeed in a bad spot, and he began to pray. “God of Abraham, you'll have to help us with this, for we're helpless. I thank you for this woman. I don't know what she is. Maybe she is a bad woman, but she's been good to us, so I ask you to have mercy on her.”

Othniel reached down and ruffled Oman's dark hair. “You're too good for me, Oman,” he said. “I never win at this game.”

“You just let me win,” Oman said. He smiled broadly at the big man who sat on the floor across from him. The two of them had been playing a game that his father had made for him. It involved carved animals and a board.

“You shouldn't let Oman bother you, Othniel.”

Othniel turned to look up at Rahab, who had come to look down on the two. “He's no bother,” he said. “We're friends, aren't we, Oman?”

“Yes, we are.”

“I wish I could take you fishing. Have you ever caught a fish?” Othniel asked.

“No. How do you do that?” He sat still while Othniel began to speak. He spread his hands wide and his eyes sparkled as he described his fishing trip.

“Maybe you'll take me someday.”

“That's not very likely,” Zayna said. She had been playing with the two but had finally gotten up to help her sister with the work.

“Why would you say that?” Othniel asked.

“Because this whole city is going to be burned and everybody's going to be killed,” Zayna said.