The Gate of Heaven (35 page)

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Authors: Gilbert Morris

Tags: #FIC042030, #FIC042000, #FIC026000

BOOK: The Gate of Heaven
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“Leave him alone, Dinah,” Joseph said with alarm. “Don't be poking at him.”

But Dinah was fascinated. His skin, if it had not been scarred, would have been smooth, and there was a strength in him that she saw, even though he was emaciated. She began to poke at his stomach, and suddenly the slave shoved her away. She staggered, taking small steps and flailing with her arms, then fell flat on her back.

Anger boiled over in Dinah. She screamed out and got to her feet as Khalid came forward. He had seen the whole thing. Another man carrying a heavy stick was with him. Both of them were furious.

“Do you let your slaves treat buyers like this?”

Masud lifted the stick and struck Demetrius on the shoulder. Demetrius exploded. He went for the man, wrapping his chain around the man's neck. He was strangling the man when Khalid raised his own stick and struck him on the head. It took several blows, but finally the slave went limp.

Masud freed himself and began to curse. He looked around for his stick and began pounding at the inert body of the slave.

“I'll kill him!” Masud screamed. “He's nothing but trouble.”

Dinah took him seriously and was alarmed. “Wait,” she said, “don't kill him!”

Instantly Khalid said, “Wait a minute, Masud.” He turned to the young woman and remarked, “He's a troublesome fellow. I've made up my mind to do away with him. He'd be no good to anyone. Go ahead, Masud,” he said. “Finish him off.”

Masud raised his stick and struck the head of the slave. It made a thumping sound that sickened Dinah.

“Don't do that!” she said.

“He leaves me no choice,” Khalid said smoothly. He had been watching the young woman as she had inspected the slave, and a sly thought had come to him. The rebellion of Demetrius had given him the idea. He had no idea of letting Masud kill him, but he shrugged now and said, “The fellow would be better off dead. He has a streak of violence, as you see.”

Dinah swallowed hard. “You…you're really going to kill him?”

“Oh yes. We have to do that from time to time,” Khalid said calmly. “I'll have him hauled off where you won't have to watch it. Take him and slip a knife into him, Masud, or beat him to death. Whichever you like.”

“With pleasure!” Masud said.

Dinah watched as Masud motioned, and two of his men came to drag the limp body off.

“Wait a minute! You…you can't just kill him!”

“Oh yes. He's given Masud a lot of grief, and he's of no use. No one would buy him.”

Dinah stared at the bleeding body of the pale slave and said, “How much do you want for him?”

“Oh, only twenty kalehiras.”

“That's too much,” Dinah said.

As she began to bargain, Joseph came along and argued. “Dinah…Dinah, you can't buy that fellow. He's a bad one.”

“I can't let them kill him,” Dinah whispered.

The bargaining ended with Khalid pocketing the coins Dinah had brought. “Take the chains off of him,” he commanded Masud.

“I still say we should have killed him,” Masud growled, but he removed the chain.

“Now what are you going to do? He can't even walk,” Joseph said.

“I don't know.” Dinah was furious with herself. She often did things like this, but she knew she had let herself in for a great deal of trouble. “You'll have to help me talk Father into this.”

“Not me,” Joseph said vehemently. “You made a fool out of yourself, but I had nothing to do with it.”

The two stood helplessly until finally the slave began to roll over. His eyes were dazed, but he sat up and his hand went to his head, which was bleeding.

“What's your name?” Dinah demanded in Syrian—the language of the traders—hoping the slave would understand.

“Demetrius.”

“What kind of a name is that?” she demanded, but he would not answer.

“Can you walk?” Joseph said. “Let me help you up.” He leaned over and helped the tall, fair-skinned slave to his feet.

“Come along,” Dinah said. “You belong to me now.”

Demetrius gave her a look. He was in considerable pain, but he stared straight back at her. “I'm no slave,” he said.

“Yes, you are. They would have killed you if I hadn't bought you.”

“You should have let them,” Demetrius said grimly.

Joseph noticed that a crowd was gathering. This would be all over the village and would, no doubt, drift back to Jacob. “Come on, Demetrius, we'll get you out of here.” He pulled at Demetrius as Dinah walked away, her head held high.

“Who is she?”

“Her name is Dinah. We're the children of Jacob, the Hebrew. Come along. We'll get you cleaned up and give you something to eat. It looks like you could use it.”

Dinah turned and demanded, “Will you come along?”

“We're coming,” Joseph said quickly. He turned to Demetrius and whispered, “She's not as bad as she seems.”

Demetrius stared after the young woman. “No, she couldn't be,” he said grimly.

Dinah wasn't quite sure how she was going to break this news to Jacob, or for that matter, how he would react. But she didn't think it would be good. As soon as they returned home, Jacob asked to see the maidservant she had bought. Dinah began to stammer, and Jacob eyed her with suspicion.

“What have you done?” he demanded, and finally the story came out. For once, Jacob was livid with Dinah.

Joseph tried to defend her, saying that the man would surely have killed the fellow, but Jacob simply shouted, “What business is that of yours? You mean you spent all your money on a half-dead male slave that you have no use for?”

Dinah tried all her wiles with Jacob, but for the first time in her life, nothing worked. Jacob's face remained grim.

Leah had entered while this conversation was taking place and learned what had happened. She was of no help to Dinah either. “I told you not to let her buy her own slave,” she said to Jacob. “Now see what you've got.”

Jacob ignored his wife and turned back to his daughter, saying sternly, “You're entirely responsible for that fellow. He'll try to run away. If he escapes, Dinah, I'll sell every ring and every robe and every garment you own to make it good. Now, get out of here! I didn't know you were so foolish!”

Dinah whirled, glad to get away, and Joseph quickly followed. “I've never seen him so mad,” Joseph remarked in awe. “I thought he was going to take a stick to you!”

Dinah could not speak, she was so mortified. She was an astute young woman, spoiled but not at all stupid. She knew she had made a terrible mistake, but she couldn't bear being thought of as foolish by her own father. When she saw the slave standing nearby, being carefully examined by several curious onlookers, she walked right up to him. “I wish I'd never seen you!”

Demetrius said nothing, and this angered her as well. “All right. You belong to me, and you have to do what I say.” She turned to Joseph and said, “See that he has a place to sleep. Chain him up. Make sure he doesn't get away.”

“What are you going to do with him, sister?” Joseph asked. And when Dinah looked around, she saw that the curious onlookers were waiting for an answer.

“It's none of your business!” she shouted at them all with a dismissive wave of her hand. Then she whirled and stalked away.

Joseph turned to the slave. “Well, Demetrius, come along. At least we can wash you up. I imagine you'd like that.”

“Yes,” Demetrius said. He felt a sudden wave of gratitude for the young man, although the sister was unbearable. “I have never been this dirty in my life.”

Joseph led Demetrius to his own tent, where he had servants bring water. It took several washings for Demetrius to get clean, after which Joseph said, “I've got some ointment here for cuts. My mother's good at things like that.” He searched until he found it, and Demetrius began to apply it to his cuts and bruises.

“Here. Let me get your back,” Joseph said.

Puzzled at this kind treatment, Demetrius asked, “Why are you helping me like this?”

“I don't know. Because you need it, I guess.” Finally he said, “My sister's not as bad as she must seem to you.”

“I doubt that. You, however, are kind, sir, and I thank you very much.”

“Do you speak any Hebrew?”

“No. Just Syrian. But I pick up languages easily.”

“I'll have to turn you over to Obed, Demetrius, but I'll have to warn you, you can't get away. He's a fine tracker and a dead shot with a bow. A rough fellow. I'm sorry, but I don't have any choice.”

“It's all right. Did I hear correctly that your name is Joseph?”

“Yes.”

“I'm too weak to run away now, Joseph, but I'll tell you one thing. I'm not a slave.”

Joseph felt the truth of this statement—and the power of the man. He could not answer, for the blue eyes seemed to be boring into him.

“Someday,” Demetrius said softly, “I'll leave here and go back to my home.”

Joseph felt the impact of this, and he said, “I believe you will, but don't try it with Obed around. Come along. I'll get you something to eat.”

Chapter 27

“Look, Ada. Dinah and Demetrius—they're at it again!”

The speaker, a full-bodied young woman named Temira, put her hands over her mouth to cover her smile. “You'd think she'd give up trying to make Demetrius bow down and kiss her feet after all this time.”

Ada, the older of the two, turned from where she was standing beside the vertical loom and studied the tall form of Demetrius as he stood facing Dinah. “She's not going to get anything out of him—that's for sure. Look at him! He doesn't look like a slave, does he?”

The two women were standing on opposite sides of a large loom, passing a shuttle back and forth between them as they wove a colorful rug.

Ada shoved the shuttle through, and as Temira pulled it her way, she laughed softly. “You'd think Dinah would know she's making a fool of herself. The whole camp has been laughing at her ever since she went to buy a maid and came back with Demetrius.”

“Her father hasn't been laughing much.”

“No, that's true. Probably the first time in Dinah's life she hasn't been able to make it right with the old man.”

The two women continued to move the shuttle back and forth, from time to time pushing the horizontal strands of wool up to the top, where the pattern of the rug was beginning to take shape. They were both, however, more interested in the conversation that was going on, which they could hear plainly.

Dinah was irritated that she had to look up to Demetrius's face, but there was no help for it. He was such a tall man that most people had to look up to him. She stood facing him now, her hands on her hips and her voice strident as she said, “You didn't bring the cool water in from the well as I told you.”

“Yes I did, mistress,” Demetrius said. He was standing loosely, and his voice was lazy. He had picked up a little Hebrew during his month-long stay with Jacob's family, and most of the family knew enough Syrian so that Demetrius could communicate well enough. “It's right over there in that largest jar.”

Dinah turned and saw the jar, which she had not noticed. She flushed, for she hated it when Demetrius was right.

“Don't be insolent to me!”

“Of course not, mistress. How could I be such a thing as that?”

Dinah's whole life had changed since Demetrius had come—and as far as she was concerned, it was not for the better. She had never seen a slave like him! Indeed, he claimed that he was not a slave, but she would fire back with the rebuttal, “You are now! I bought you and paid for you, and you're mine.”

As she stood facing him, she could not help noticing that the welts he had borne on his body when he first came were very faint now. He had gained weight too and looked very fit. He had put on muscle and was attractive enough to catch the eyes of the maidservants, a matter which Dinah also abhorred.

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