“Who are you?” Rahab asked quietly, fearful of the answer.
“I think you know who I am. I am the one who saved you from Jericho, and I will save you from this trouble also. Can you believe that?”
Faith flooded Rahab, and she cried out, “Yes, O Lord God, I believe you!”
“Have faith in me, even to the last second of your life, my daughter.”
The voice fell silent, and slowly Rahab returned to full consciousness. It was like swimming from the depths of a deep pool up to the surface, and when she broke through, she began to weep. She was overwhelmed, for she had the utmost confidence that God had spoken to herâa woman who had been a terrible sinner. She knelt there weeping and praising God, and when she got up and wiped her face, she looked up. Though she could see only the inner canopy of the tent, she lifted her hands and cried out, “I will believe you, O God, even unto death!”
****
The tent used for council meetings was the largest and longest tent in the camp. It was now packed with men, most of them in their early forties or fifties. They were of the new generation of Hebrews, the old men having died off in the wilderness wandering. Now there was an air of strength about them. The leader, Remkiah, was in his midforties. He was a strong-looking individual with keen, dark eyes and a short-clipped beard.
“Bring the woman in,” Remkiah called, and whispering filled the tent as one man left.
He soon appeared with Rahab. She was wearing a simple Hebrew garment, a scarf covering her hair, and she was silent, but her head was held high as she was brought into the center of the council.
“My name is Remkiah. I am the head of the council. You are Rahab?”
“Yes, sir. That is my name.”
“You have been accused ofâ” Remkiah broke off and turned, as did everyone else, for three newcomers had entered. Remkiah addressed them. “You are welcome, Caleb, and you also, Ardonâbut women are not permitted at the council meetings.”
Ariel stood straight and faced the head of the council. “Does the council believe in justice?” Her voice was clear, and there was no trace of fear on her features. She stood boldly before them, waiting for an answer. She ignored the murmur of displeasure going around among the council members. “I know you are men of honor,” she said, her voice clear and strong. “The accused is my friend. I will stand beside her.”
Rahab's eyes filled with tears, and she wiped them away furtively. She said nothing, but her eyes went to the head of the council.
“I'm afraid I cannot permit such a thing,” Remkiah said.
And then the strong voice of Caleb filled the tent. “She will stay!”
Every eye turned to Caleb. Next to Joshua he was the most powerful man in Israel. He was not only the head of the tribe of Judah, the most powerful tribe, but he was a man who had walked beside Moses. He and Joshua had served as the right arm of Moses, and now Remkiah dropped his eyes, unable to meet Caleb's gaze. “Very well. If you insist.”
“I do insist,” Caleb said coldly. “Now, get on with this thing.”
Remkiah turned to Rahab and said in a subdued voice, casting glances at Caleb and Ariel, “You have been accused of selling your body to a member of the nation. Such offense brings death by stoning. What have you to say for yourself?”
Ardon was watching carefully, and when Rahab lifted her head, he felt a shock of astonishment. He had always thought her face was beautifully fashioned, but now he also saw the strong will and pride in her eyes and in the set of her lips.
How can a woman who looks like this be guilty?
he thought. To his surprise she turned and met his eyes. Normally, her face in repose had a quality he could not name. It was something like the gravity that comes from someone seeing too much. It was, in fact, a mirror of sadness. She looked at him silently, and Ardon wondered what her silence meant. It pulled at him like a mystery, and he found his own thinking confused, but it was as if he were seeing the woman in a new light. He was stunned to note that there was an enormous certainty in her, a will like iron, and he could not but admire her as she courageously stood there.
“I am innocent,” she said. Her voice carried throughout the tent, and then she added, “God has told me that I am to put my trust in Him.”
The men of the council were shocked. “God does not speak to a woman,” a voice came.
Ariel spoke up. “And how can you know that? Are you Jehovah?”
The sharpness of Ariel's reply was enough to send shock waves throughout the group.
Ariel ignored them. “I insist that this woman's accuser be brought in. Let him face her and make his accusation.”
“I do not thinkâ” Remkiah stammered.
“Bring the man in,” Caleb said. “It's only just. The law of Moses clearly says there must be witnesses to a wrong.”
Remkiah shrugged his shoulders. “Very well.” He lifted his voice and said, “Bring the man in.”
Every eye was turned toward the doorway, and when a man entered, Caleb said with a snort, “This is the accuser?”
“Yes. His name is Jehaza,” Remkiah said.
“I know his name. I think everyone knows about him.”
“I know about him,” Ariel said. She moved to where she faced Jehaza squarely. “You are a coward and a liar.”
Jehaza seemed to shrink. He had not been informed that this would happen. He had been told by Jehu that he would simply have to make the accusation and he would be kept out of it. “Let's hear your claim,” Ariel demanded.
Jehaza looked wildly around the room, but there was no help. “I was going to the river, and this woman came out and offered herself to me if I would give her money.”
Ariel listened as the man told his sordid tale; then she said, “When did this take place?”
“Whyâ¦I can't remember exactly.”
Caleb's voice boomed. “Answer the question. If you made the charge, you must remember when you claim it happened.”
“It wasâ¦it was two days ago at the river.”
“At what time of day?” Ariel said.
Jehaza twisted and turned and looked as if he were about to flee. “It was at midday.”
Phinehas stepped forward. “I would like to know one thing. How is it possible that this woman Rahab could have been at the river tempting this man and at the same time sitting with me in the shade of my tent? For that is exactly where she was two days ago at high noon.”
A mutter went around the council, and a strong voice said, “This man is a liar. He's the one who should be stoned.”
Caleb moved to stand before Jehaza. “You should die for planning the death of an innocent woman!”
Ardon drew his knife and held it up before the eyes of the trembling Jehaza. “Stoning is too good. I'll slit his throat right now.”
“I couldn't help it,” Jehaza screamed. “It wasn't me. It was my master Jehu. He made me do it.”
At that moment there was a scuffling activity in the back of the crowd. Two of the members of the council pushed their way through. They were dragging Jehu with them. “Here he is,” one of them growled. “Now let him stand trial.”
Remkiah swallowed hard. “Joshua, our master, will judge the liar.” He turned to Rahab and said, “You are free to go, with the apologies of the council.” Then he turned to Ariel, and despite himself, a smile turned the corners of his lips upward. “No woman has ever attended a meeting of the council. You are the first, but I am glad you came, my daughter.”
“Thank you, master. Maybe you will be more ready to listen to a woman's truth next time. Come, Rahab, let us go.”
Rahab cast one look at Jehu, who was ashen and trembling. She walked outside, and she and Ariel were followed by Ardon. Ardon said almost at once, “You were very fortunate, Rahab, to have a friend like Ariel.”
Rahab turned and asked, “Would you really have cut his throat, Ardon?”
“We'll never know, will we? But I do hate a liar.” He stopped, took her arm, and turned her around. “I'm glad it turned out well for you.”
At that moment, when the two faced each other, Ardon felt the power of Rahab's beauty and it disturbed him. He broke off what he was going to say and, without another word, walked away.
“Why is he angry?” Rahab whispered.
“He's never been good with women. I think he's afraid of them.” She put her arm around Rahab and hugged her. “I think he's afraid of you.”
“Because of what I was?”
“No. Because you're a woman he finds attractive and he doesn't want to admit it. I've seen it in his eyes as he watches you.”
“He doesn't need to be afraid of me,” Rahab said. She watched Ardon as he made his way back through the camp and then faced Ariel. “You saved my life, Ariel. I thank you.”
Ariel laughed. “We couldn't let those men have their way. Come along. Your family will want to know how all this has turned out. And I want to hear about how God talked to you.”
“Master, could you spare a little time?”
Ardon had been striding toward the northern part of the camp, where his father and Joshua were meeting with the many officers to plan the next battle. He was brought up short by the voice and turned to see his father's chief herdsman, a short, wiry man named Ezra.
“What is it, Ezra?” he asked. “I'm in a hurry.”
“This won't take a minute, sir.” Ezra was the best herdsman in all of Israel, as far as Ardon and Caleb could discover. No matter how many cattle or sheep or goats Caleb owned, Ezra seemed to know every one of them by name. He was up at dawn and the last to leave the flocks, and he got along well with the other shepherds, who respected him greatly.
“Well, it's like this, sir. You know I lost my wife two years ago.”
“Yes. A fine woman she was too.”
“She was indeed. The very best. And I have two children, you know, a boy and a girl.”
Ardon could not imagine what Ezra was getting at. “Yes. They are fine children.”
“But you know, sir, it's hard on a man to raise children alone.”
“Oh, I assume, then, you're thinking of taking another wife. I hope she's from the tribe of Judah.”
Ezra was a slow-speaking man and seemed to think over each word carefully before he let it escape his lips. He was handsome in a rough fashion, a plain, simple man, quiet, who did his duty, but a man who could fight if called upon. Ardon and his father both respected him greatly. “No, sir, not exactly,” Ezra said carefully.
“Not exactly? She either is or she isn't. Who is it?”
Ezra was holding his shepherd staff in his hand, and now he fingered it nervously, poking a hole in the ground with it as he considered his next words. Finally he looked up, his honest brown eyes steady. “It's the woman that you and Othniel helped out of Jericho. The woman named Rahab.”
Ardon was so surprised he could not speak. He had not really given a thought to Rahab's future, and now the matter was thrown into his hands. He opened his mouth to speak, but his mind was blank. For once he was a slower speaker than Ezra himself!
“I'm not much of a man with words,” Ezra went on, “but I thought if you would speak to the woman for me, it would be a kindness.”
“Why, you can speak to her yourself. She has a father. You could talk to him. But, Ezra, have you thought this over?”
Ezra again was slow in answering. He was studying Ardon's face. “You don't want me to marry, sir?”
“Oh, I have no opinion on that,” Ardon said hastily. “Butâ” He tried desperately to think of some way to put the matter. Finally he said, “Well, if you feel it would help, I'll be glad to speak to her.”
“Thank you, sir. That would be a favor indeed.”
Ardon watched as Ezra headed back toward the herds. Lately he had thought much about Rahab. Since the trial, the entire tribe had thought about the woman. The villain Jehu had been severely chastised by Joshua. Part of his punishment had been that a large number of his animals were forfeited to Rahab, so that she was now a woman of some substance. He had also been ostracized by a large part of the population.
Making up his mind abruptly, Ardon threaded his way between the tents. When he came to Rahab's tent, he found her father sitting outside doing nothing, as usual. “I need to speak to Rahab, Makon.”
“She went out to see some of our sheep.”
Our sheep indeed,
Ardon thought with contempt. He nodded and headed out of the camp. It took him some time to reach Rahab, for the herds were enormous by this time. He finally located her talking with a young man named Birum, whom she had hired to watch her livestock. She turned at the sound of footsteps, and when she saw him, her face lit up with a smile. “Ardon, come and see my sheep and cattle.”
Ardon stopped and nodded. “Nice-looking animals. So you've become a shepherd.”
“Oh, I know little about them, but Birum here, he knows. Don't you, Birum?”
“Yes. I know a lot about sheep and cattle.” Birum was no more than fifteen, but he had been around animals all of his life and was smiling broadly. He had a gap between his teeth, and his eyes were sharp and piercing.
“Walk with me, Rahab,” Ardon said.
“Why, of course.”
As soon as they were out of hearing distance of the shepherd, Ardon stopped and turned to face Rahab. She was wearing a light blue garment that was loose and flowing and outlined her form well. Her eyes were brilliant this morning. She was happy with her new occupation. “I have a request from our chief shepherd, Ezra.”
“Yes? What does it have to do with me?”
“He wants to marry you.”
Rahab's eyes flew open. “Marry me? But I don't even know him.”
“You have probably seen him. He's been with us a long time. In any case, he's seen you.” Hastily, he added, “His wife died two years ago. He has a boy and a girl about twelve or thirteen, something like that. He's a good man. I can vouch for him.”