Mepu said, “There is no time for changing clothes. She must go as she is.” He looked at his daughter and spoke reassuringly, “Come, Rahab. I’m sure the king has heard about your beauty and only wants to see you. Don’t worry. All will be well.”
But Rahab saw the fear in her father’s eyes, and she did not believe him.
Rahab and Atene sat pressed together in the narrow litter as the porters carried them through the streets. Rahab had seen many such litters in Jericho, but they were for women of the nobility. She had never thought she would be riding in one of them. She wished with all her heart she weren’t.
Atene took her hand and squeezed it encouragingly. Rahab tried to give her a courageous smile.
“The king won’t do anything to hurt you,” Atene said. “I’m sure Father was right; he just wants to see if you are as beautiful as people say.”
Rahab stared at the linen curtains that hid the passengers of the litter from the view of people in the street. “I wish I looked like a frog. What’s the use of being pretty if it only brings you trouble?”
Atene said sensibly, “You are not of the nobility, but your father is a successful farmer, a man of some substance. No one will be able to do anything to you without his permission.”
Her words made Rahab feel better. It was true that girls were under the rule of their fathers and she knew her father cared about her. He would never let anything terrible happen to her.
The litter was lowered to the ground, and one of the soldiers opened the curtains to let the women out. As Rahab stood up she looked around, always curious no matter how frightened she may be.
They were in an inner courtyard, which was covered by a roof supported by four stone columns. All around the courtyard rose the sheer white walls of the palace.
“It’s so big,” Atene breathed and Rahab nodded silent agreement.
A man came down the stairs that led to the upper rooms of the palace and approached the one guard who was still standing with them. Rahab recognized the man as Lord Arazu, the noble she had visited yesterday with her father. She began to breathe more easily. Perhaps it was true, perhaps the king only wanted to see her and then she could go home.
Arazu dismissed the soldier, then turned to Rahab with a pleasant smile. “We meet again, Rahab.” His eyes moved to Atene. “I see you have brought a friend.”
“This is my sister-in-law, Atene, who has come with me.” Rahab’s voice was firm. “She was with us yesterday when we came to your house.”
“Ah, yes.” Clearly Arazu had no memory of Atene. “If you will both come with me, I will show you to your room.”
Rahab didn’t move. “What do you mean, my room? I have no room in this house.”
Arazu’s eyes flicked up and down Rahab’s tunic. “You cannot expect to be presented to the king until you have been dressed properly.”
I don’t like this man. I don’t like anything about him
, Rahab thought. But she didn’t know what else she could do except obey.
“I want Atene to come with me,” she said.
“Of course.” Arazu smiled. “She can attend your bath.”
Bath?
Rahab and Atene stared at each other.
“Come,” Arazu said, and Rahab and Atene followed on unwilling feet as he led them up the stairs and into the residential part of the palace.
T
WO HANDMAIDS WERE AWAITING
R
AHAB IN THE ROOM
to which Arazu brought them. He waved the frightened girls in, then closed the door behind them. Rahab could hear the sound of his feet as he walked away.
The room itself contained a stone basin set on the floor, a table with a large jug of steaming water, and a pile of linen towels. The two women looked stonefaced at Rahab and bowed slightly.
“Is that the bath?” Atene muttered, her eyes on the stone basin.
One of the women took Rahab by the hand and led her to the basin, motioning for her to step in. When they began to take off her robe, she pulled away and ran back to Atene’s side. “What are you going to do?” she demanded.
The older handmaid, a heavy-set woman with a hooked nose, said, “We are going to bathe you, my lady. Then we will dress you in clean robes so you will be fit to meet the king.”
Rahab and Atene exchanged alarmed glances. The only bathing they had ever done was in a stream during the summer and out of a small hand basin during the winter.
Atene said, “We bathed before we came to Jericho and I washed her hair myself. She is perfectly clean.”
The younger handmaid sniffed contemptuously.
“Her hair looks glossy enough,” the elder handmaid admitted. “We can leave it as it is. There is too much of it to dry properly anyway.”
Rahab considered refusing. If the king wanted to see her, then he could take her as she was. She had no desire to make a good impression on him. Suppose she didn’t let these women touch her? What could happen to her if she did that?
She looked longingly at the door. But she had to think of her family. If she angered the king, he was likely to take it out on them. Slowly she moved forward and stood once more in the center of the basin.
For what seemed like forever she stood there naked while the maids poured water over her and scrubbed her skin from her forehead to her toes. She had been brought up to be a modest woman, and standing nude before these strange women made her uncomfortable.
As the ablutions went on, Rahab began to wonder what all these preparations could be about? She could understand that she might need to wear nicer clothes to meet the ruler of Jericho, but why this bath? She asked the maids if everyone who went to see the king had to have a bath, and they looked at her as if she were a simpleton.
“Of course not,” the older maid said condescendingly, as if Rahab were a dairy girl and not a farmer’s daughter. Rahab looked at Atene. She was beginning to feel really frightened. There was something more going on here than a mere visit so the king could admire her beauty. She noticed Atene was looking worried too.
After Rahab was dry, the maids gave her a plain robe to put on and began the process of combing out her hair. Rahab had worn it braided, and the combing out was painful. The maids were not satisfied until it was falling down her back in a waterfall of shining black.
Then they took away the plain robe she had worn to have her hair done and gave her an exquisite linen tunic to put on. They placed a circlet of what looked like real gold on her head and slipped a pair of beautiful leather sandals on her newly scoured feet.
Both maids regarded her with satisfaction, pleased with their work. “You look like a noble woman,” one of them said.
Rahab scowled. She did not want to look like a noble woman. She wanted to look like herself.
“I will go and inform Lord Arazu that she is ready,” the younger maid said to the older.
Atene came to stand beside the transformed Rahab and took her hand. “Have courage, my sister.”
“But what can this be about?”
“I don’t know. It is certainly strange.”
“You are going to come with me, aren’t you?”
“I will if they will let me.”
The maid came back into the room. “I will take you now to Lord Arazu, my lady.”
Rahab said, “I want my sister-in-law to come with me.”
The maid shrugged. “That will be up to Lord Arazu. Come, now, and we will go to him.”
Rahab, with Atene beside her, followed the maid along the outside balcony. They walked for quite a distance before they came to another door. The maid knocked and a male voice answered, “Come.” The maid pushed the door open and stepped aside for the girls to enter.
Lord Arazu was alone inside. Rahab looked around quickly and saw that the room was small but richly furnished, with a beautifully woven wool rug, elegantly carved chairs, and a table with a lamp. Beyond it was yet another door.
Lord Arazu frowned at Atene. “The king only wishes to see Rahab. You should not be here.”
Atene replied in a steady voice, “Rahab’s father sent me as a representative of her family. If the king does not wish to see me, then I will wait here until Rahab comes out.”
Rahab felt a flash of admiration for Atene’s outward composure. If her sister-in-law wasn’t intimidated by these surroundings, then she told herself she wouldn’t be either.
Arazu turned his back on Atene and spoke to Rahab. “The king will receive you informally, but you must be certain to fold your hands at your waist and bow your head when you come before him. Do not look up until he speaks to you. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Then come with me.” Lord Arazu gestured Rahab toward the closed inner door, sparing only two words for Atene. “Wait here.”
Rahab’s mouth was so dry she didn’t think she would be able to speak at all, but she walked as straight and steady as she could through the open door that led into the king’s private reception room.
Makamaron was seated in a high-backed bronze chair with images of unusual animals on the feet and arms, in a chamber where he often met with his friends and advisors. When Arazu came into the room with the girl at his side, Makamaron was prepared to be disappointed. No woman could be as beautiful as his friend had promised. However, she might be pretty enough to give him an excuse to put aside Arsay, who was definitely a danger to him.
“My lord king,” Arazu said when the door had closed behind them, “may I present Rahab, daughter of Mepu, one of your faithful subjects.”
The girl folded her hands, bent her head, and was silent. The thin linen tunic showed Makamaron that she was slender but beautifully curved. The skin of her bare arms revealed by the tunic glowed with youth and health.
“You may approach me, Rahab,” the king said graciously.
As the girl came toward him, he noticed with approval the fluid grace of her walk. When finally she reached his chair and lifted her face, he was stunned. Vaguely he heard her say, in a charmingly husky voice, “I am honored to have this opportunity to meet you, my lord king.”
Makamaron was having trouble with his breathing. For the first time in many moons he felt his sexuality stir. This girl . . . this girl was amazing.
He cleared his throat in an attempt to get his speaking voice back to normal. He said, “Rahab. That is an unusual name.”
“It was my mother’s mother’s name,” she replied.
“I see.” Makamaron was still short of breath. He struggled for normality. “And your father, what does he do?”
“He is a grape farmer, my lord king. We live south of Jericho, near the village of Ugaru, where my father’s family has owned vineyards for many generations.”
The girl’s huge dark eyes were fixed on him. He watched her mouth as she spoke in that wonderful voice. His mind was already made up. This was his hierodule. If anyone could help him complete the sacred marriage it was this Rahab. She must have had some experience. He knew sometimes Canaanite girls slipped off into the dark with young men after the important nature ceremonies. They could not do such a thing after they married, of course, but when they were young it happened. A girl like this would have been much in demand.
He looked at his advisor and said simply, “She will do. Arrange it.”
“Yes, my lord king,” Arazu replied.
The king smiled at Rahab, showing his bad teeth. “We will meet again, Rahab. You may go now and Lord Arazu will make arrangements for you.”
The girl’s face went still. There was a watchful look in her eyes. “Arrangements, my lord king? What arrangements?”
Makamaron lifted his brows at being questioned. “I am bestowing on you the greatest honor a Canaanite woman can have, Rahab. You will be the goddess Asherah in the sacred marriage to take place at the New Year festival. We will notify your father and your family. Now, go with Lord Arazu, please. I have other engagements I must attend to.”
The girl was as pale as her tunic. “I do not deserve such an honor,” she said, not adding “my lord king” to her comment.
Makamaron frowned; he did not like having his pronouncements questioned. “You must let me be the judge of that.” He looked at Arazu. “Take her out.”
“Come, Rahab,” Arazu said commandingly, and he began to lead the girl toward the door. Before they left, Makamaron called his advisor’s name. “See to it that Lord Edri and the high priest come to see me.” He paused a moment, then added, “And you had better bring the head priestess as well. I will meet with you all in one hour’s time.”