No Woman So Fair (45 page)

Zoltar was as changeable as the wind. Only a few moments before he'd been willing to risk the lives of half of his men in a pitched battle against the Hebrews, but now he tossed that idea aside and nodded. “All right, Zephir, you do it.”

Zoltar abruptly rose and walked off into the darkness. The other two men put their heads together and arranged for a time and place to meet, where Zephir could give his report.

Finally it was Zephir who said with a sigh of relief, “We would lose too many men in a direct attack. But that's all he thinks about.”

“I hope this works. You've got to do your job right,” Agag said.

“Don't worry. I'll take care of it.”

****

“You're not eating much, husband.”

Abraham looked at Sarah, who had sat down beside him. Smiling, he replied, “I guess I'm not very hungry.”

Sarah knew this man better than anyone in the world. He was clearly troubled—it showed in the way his eyelids crept over his eyes and in the tension of his mouth. Another sure sign was his hands, for in moments of stress, he would clasp them together, squeezing them tightly as if that would bring some answers to his mind.

“What's the matter, husband?”

“Nothing really. I feel all right. It's just that sometimes I get discouraged.”

“We all do that.”

“I've been thinking about all the years I've wandered with my flocks—some of them seem pretty useless. Sometimes I think it's only the little things that matter, Sarah.”

“What little things?”

“Oh, I don't know…a little sunlight, a little laughter. I think of the flashing anger in the eyes of a man who hated me. I think of all those years at Ur, seeking after God. Sometimes my life seems like just a series of unrelated scenes that fade out behind me.”

“Your life is much more than that.” Sarah reached over, and when she touched his hands, he separated them and folded her small hand in his large ones. They were still strong hands, and she leaned against him, joining with his solidness.

“There are good things in the world too,” she said. “Songs…good times…friends.”

“I know.” His hands squeezed hers, and he turned to smile at her. “And you are always there for me, never far out of my thoughts.” She returned his smile, and the strong touch of his hands as they enfolded hers gave her pleasure. She remembered how all through the long years, he had always been there for her. She well understood what it was like to think at times that life was impossible and very fragile. But she knew this one thing about Abraham of the Hebrews—he might have his moments of quiet despair, but they would not last. She had seen that in him over the years. He had a resiliency like no other man. No matter how difficult things got, his faith would lift him up and enable him to reach out to those he loved, drawing them to him. It was this quality in him she loved as much as anything else.

“I know what's wrong with you,” she said.

Abraham's eyes glinted, his mouth turned upward in a wry smile. “You always think you know what I'm thinking. What is it that's worrying me, then?”

“You're worried about Ishmael,” she replied simply. She saw his face change and knew that she had touched on the source of his unhappiness. “I know you too well.”

The muscles of Abraham's face twitched, and he nodded. “You're right. Did you notice how he changed after he killed that man?”

“Yes. He's only a boy in years, but it wasn't a boy's face…it wasn't the eyes of a boy I saw that day—I saw a murderous pleasure in his face. He watched that man squirming on the ground dying, and he actually took pleasure in it.”

Abraham sighed. “There's something wrong with him.”

Sarah did not argue. She had seen the innate hardness grow in Ishmael. He could be cruel, although at other times he did not show it. “He's not going to be a gentle man, husband.”

“Life is difficult, and sometimes a man must be hard,” Abraham said, struggling to find a justification for the change in Ishmael.

Sarah just squeezed his hand and said, “Try to eat more. I'll get you some more milk.”

****

Zephir felt a sense of satisfaction as he disappeared behind one of the rolling hills. He was pleased with himself. He had found it almost ridiculously easy to walk into Abraham's camp and pretend to be a sick traveler. As he and Agag had anticipated, the Hebrews stuck to the code of hospitality fervently. Abraham had greeted him and, when Zephir had put on an excellent act of being weak and starving, had commanded that food be brought.

Now as Zephir followed the track of an ancient bone-dry waterway, he smirked, thinking,
No one could have done a better job. I've fooled them all!

He had made himself at home in the camp for the best part of a week, during which time he had kept Zara under close surveillance. He knew her ways now and had left the camp for his rendezvous with Zoltar. A movement ahead caught his eye, and he lifted his hand and called out. At his cry, Zoltar and Agag appeared along with four other men.
Reinforcements
, Zephir thought.

Zephir greeted Zoltar. “Well, master, good news!”

Zoltar had chosen four of his best warriors, who now gathered around Zephir while Zoltar asked, “You're sure they didn't smoke you out?”

“They're fools. Or perhaps I'm just a good actor.” Zephir smirked.

“What about the woman?” Zoltar demanded.

“It'll be easy. She leaves camp every morning and goes to a water hole to get water.”

“And guards?” Zoltar said.

“Another woman and just one man go with her.”

“Only one man?” Agag grinned. “It should be easy.”

“He's nothing but a pup,” Zephir said with a shrug.

“All right,” Zoltar said. “What time does she go?”

“Early in the morning, just after dawn.”

“We'll do it in the morning, then. You follow her. We'll be waiting.”

A sickly pleasure touched the flat surfaces of Zoltar's eyes. “We'll see, Zara, who's your master now.”

****

As Zara exited from her tent, she looked up and saw that, although there was a milky breaking of light in the east, the stars were cold and brilliant in the sky. She watched the faint pulses of light diluting the cold blackness of the earth. She loved the stars. They were like glittering gems against the blackness, and she often wondered at the mystery and magnitude of the heavens above her.

“Good morning, Zara.”

“Good morning, Miriam.” She turned to meet the woman who approached from the east tents. Miriam had become a close friend over the past year, and now Zara said, “You look tired. You stayed up late last night.”

Miriam shrugged. “I did at that. You went to bed early.”

“Yes. The days have been so hot. It's good to get to enjoy the coolness of the night.”

The two women spoke together softly, each of them lifting a large clay pot as they headed out of the camp. They were met by a figure stepping out of the shadows. “Who are these beautiful young women?”

Miriam laughed. “Don't you come making up to me, Benjamin.”

The young man walked beside Miriam and, reaching over, took her jar. “Why shouldn't I make up to you? You're the prettiest woman around—” He suddenly remembered Zara and said, “Except for you, Zara.”

“So Zara's prettier than I am,” Miriam said. “That's not what you told me last night.”

The women were amused at Benjamin, who was barely into early manhood. It seemed he was smitten with a different woman each week, and this past week it had been Miriam's turn. “I'm disappointed in you, Benjamin,” Zara teased. “You told me not a month ago you would never look at another woman besides me.”

“But—”

“And you told me the same thing last night,” Miriam jibed. “You're not a man to be trusted.”

Benjamin argued vehemently that he was indeed reliable as the three ambled out of the camp, following an old streambed. Zara enjoyed the warmth of the earth under her feet as the sun began to heat the ground. The morning hours were the best for her, and she threw her head back and savored the touch of the air on her face.

“The water is low,” Zara said as they came to the edge of the water hole in the middle of the streambed. “I hope it doesn't dry up completely.”

“So do I,” Miriam said. “I like this spot. I'd hate to have to move.”

Zara leaned over and allowed the pot she carried to sink. The gurgling of the water made a pleasant sound, and her mind was on the task when she heard the pounding of running feet. Surprised, she turned, expecting to see someone from the camp, but by the milky light that illuminated the plain, she saw a group of men coming. She could not see their faces at first, but fear shot through her as she recognized one of them. “It's Zoltar!” she screamed. “Run, Miriam!”

Both young women dropped their pots and made a dash at right angles to the riverbed. Benjamin uttered a cry of surprise and drew his sword. He was immediately surrounded, and Zara risked one glance to see one of the men drive his sword all the way through Benjamin's chest. Terror flooded her then, and she put every ounce of her strength into making an escape.

The pursuers had cut them off, however, and Zara felt a hand grab at her. She twisted away only to fall into the hands of another. “Run, Miriam!” she screamed.

Miriam ducked under the outreached arms of one of the attackers. She smelled the sweat and stench of his body as she brushed against him. Then she dashed away back toward the camp. Two men started after her, but Zara saw they were hopelessly left behind.

“Let her go,” Zoltar called out. “We'll get away from here.” He reached out and grabbed Zara by the hair. “Now you see I've come back for you.”

Zara did not speak. She knew the cruelty of this man, and as he dragged her toward the waiting donkeys that two of the other men were holding, she said good-bye to her life. She well knew what Zoltar had planned for her and wished that she had been killed instead of captured.

****

Eliezer heard the first scream and turned quickly. He had just prepared himself to go out and check the herds when he saw Miriam running frantically. A coldness seized him, and he dashed toward her.

“Miriam, what is it?”

“It's Zara! They killed Benjamin, and they took Zara prisoner!”

“Was it the men who were in camp last week?”

Miriam's face was stretched taut, and she had lost all her color. “Yes, the one called Zoltar. Oh, Eliezer—they killed Benjamin!” she sobbed, dropping to her knees with her head in her hands.

Eliezer straightened up and shouted, “Every man to his animal!”

He turned back and ran to his tent to get his weapons, and when he came out, Abraham was approaching. “What is it, Eliezer?”

“It's Zoltar. He's taken Zara and killed Benjamin.”

Abraham's knees buckled and Eliezer ran to hold him.

“I must go now,” Eliezer said, “before he kills Zara as well.”

Abraham looked up into the face of this man he loved like his own son and saw the hardness in his eyes. “Yes, you must go now. May God be with you. I'll pray that you bring Zara back.”

“Thank you, sir.” Eliezer nodded and then ran off, shouting, “Get the swiftest beasts we've got! Every man arm himself.”

Abraham stood watching as Eliezer gathered his men and rode out furiously, raising a cloud of dust. “O Eternal One, be with Eliezer. Give his heart wisdom and his arms strength that he may prevail.”

A brilliant flash of sunlight caused Eliezer to narrow his eyes. He stared eastward, toward a high line of hills that stood like an armed fortress. He studied the peaks and valleys, considering how best to ferret out the enemy lurking in the inhospitable terrain. Sunlight caught brittle flashes of mica particles in the dry, scratchy soil, and heat dropped down from the sky, pressing on Eliezer like a giant weight as he stood pondering his next move. Sweat streamed from his forehead, rolling over his cheeks, and he deliberately threw a brake on his spirit. What he desired more than anything else was to drive his animal straight ahead until he dropped, but caution ruled him as he weighed his options. With his brow drawn taut, fugitive shadows chased themselves in and out of the corners of his mouth, his lips twitching with the strain of what he faced.

The picture of Zara was never out of his mind for long. It lingered there like a fragrance coming from afar, and as he stood there in the full heat of the sun he remembered the last time he had seen her. It had been evening, and they had talked for a long time, walking under the stars. Finally she had given him a smile and touched his chest with the flat of her palm and then whispered good night. The memory came sharply into focus, piercing him with its clarity.

A slight movement to his right caught Eliezer's attention, and he turned his head to see Ishmael, who had come to stand beside him. Excitement glittered in the young man's eyes, and he opened and closed his fists, revealing the tension that was building up in him. “We're never going to catch them like this, Eliezer.”

“We'll catch them.”

Ishmael shook his head stubbornly. Bright points of light danced in his eyes, and strangely he smiled. A deep wrinkle broke out at the corner of each eye. The glance he gave Eliezer was bright and wise and old, despite his youth. “We're tied down to the slowest animals.”

Eliezer moved his head impatiently. He knew this fact as well as Ishmael, but now his voice was harsh as he said, “We don't know how many there are.”

“Of course we do,” Ishmael said. “By their tracks. There are only half a dozen of them at most.”

“You want to move ahead, then, and leave the slow ones behind?”

“Yes, it's what we should have done at first, don't you think?”

As a matter of fact, Eliezer had been thinking along those lines. And now that Ishmael had come to lend credence to his idea, he said, “All right. You and I will go ahead, but it'll be dangerous.”