Faith of My Fathers (15 page)

“Faster . . . hurry . . .” he whispered. The crowd was starting to lose interest and drift away. Joshua left his lookout and returned to the abandoned booth just as Mattan and Nathan rushed into the hiding place. Nathan was struggling to carry baby Rachel. She squirmed to free herself, to howl in protest, but Nathan held his hand firmly over her mouth until he dropped her into her father’s lap. Jerimoth clutched her to himself.

“Shh, it’s all right, Rachel. Shh . . . your abba is here.” Jerimoth hugged her fiercely for a moment, then he released her and began tearing off her clothes and shoes. Mattan smeared her dark, silky curls with oil while Nathan rubbed her body with a mixture of mud and ashes. Moments later, she no longer resembled a spoiled rich baby but a filthy urchin like the two boys. Jerimoth barely had time to kiss her sooty cheek before the boys darted out of the stall with her again, heading for the city gate and freedom. Seconds later, Sara tumbled in beside Jerimoth, clinging to him, weeping.

Joshua returned to his lookout post and watched as Miriam, now wearing Sara’s blue head scarf, slowly walked down the central street of the marketplace. He saw the soldier straining to keep an eye on her, while Maki continued to shout. “What’s this city coming to when hoodlums and thieves roam in broad daylight, robbing innocent people?”

Miriam was twenty yards away from the guard now, wandering in the milling crowd. He looked worried. He finally pushed Maki aside and elbowed his way forward to catch up with her.

“Wait! What about my money?” Maki shouted. The soldier
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ignored him.

Jerimoth tugged on Joshua’s sleeve. “Come on. We’re ready to load the cart.”

“Just a minute.” Joshua watched as the soldier finally caught up to Miriam and whirled her around. Then panic filled the soldier’s face when he discovered that he had followed the wrong woman. He released Miriam and darted through the square, grabbing every women in a blue head scarf and peering into her face. He hadn’t suspected Miriam. He had let her go. That was all Joshua wanted to see.

Jerimoth had already helped his wife climb into the deep pushcart they had bought with the last of Joshua’s silver. She huddled there, waiting. “Hurry, Joshua, get in!” Jerimoth whispered.

“Wait. Not yet . . .” Miriam hurried into the booth the same moment as her father, pulling the blue scarf from her head. “Give it to me,” Joshua said. He removed a shard of broken pottery from his pocket and folded it inside the fabric.

Jerimoth grabbed it away from him. “What is that? What are you doing?” Before Joshua could stop him, his brother unwrapped it to examine the potsherd. On the smooth side, Joshua had scratched a drawing of an ox. “Are you out of your mind?” Jerimoth cried.

“I want Manasseh to know it was me! If he’s going to annihilate our family for no good reason, I want him to know that
I
won this round, not him!”

“This isn’t a game, Joshua! The soldiers can describe Miriam and Maki. They’ll realize they were involved. Their lives are more important than playing a stupid game!”

“Manasseh has to understand that I’m fighting back! He led Abba to his death, and no one lifted a finger to help him! I want Manasseh to know that I’ll fight him until the day I die!”

Maki pushed between them. “Shh . . . You must lower your voices.”

“Let him leave the scarf here if he wants to,” Miriam said. “It’s important to him. I don’t care if the soldiers remember me or not.” She took the scarf from Jerimoth and wrapped the potsherd inside it again, then laid it in the middle of the floor. “We need to go.”

Joshua removed his outer robe and curled up inside the cart, wedging himself on all fours on top of Sara, protecting her. They piled small sacks of grain and baskets of fruit and vegetables on top of them until the cart was heaped high and the occupants were wellhidden. Then Joshua’s world turned dark as they covered the entire load with goatskins.

“Can you breathe?” he whispered to Sara.

“Yes. I’m all right.” He hoped he wouldn’t start to cough.

Jerimoth grunted and the cart began to move. He would play the servant’s role once again along with Miriam, pushing the two-handled barrow; Maki would be their master. The cart rumbled toward the city gate.

Joshua’s body soon began to ache from the cramped position. His foot was falling asleep, but he didn’t dare move it. The load on his back felt heavy, and he hoped he wouldn’t crush Sara. He guessed by the way the cart kept screeching to a stop, then lurching forward again, that the streets were crowded.

At last he heard soldiers shouting orders. The cart rumbled to a stop. They must be at the gate. Maki had scouted all of the gates and reported that the soldiers were stopping everyone who left the city and inspecting every load. Joshua’s plan would succeed or fail right here.

“What’s in the barrow?” he heard someone ask.

“Market goods,” Maki answered. “But why the traffic jam? What’s the problem?”

“We need to inspect your load.”

“You’ve never seen produce and grain before? Or is it the quality of my goods you’re concerned with?”

“We have to make sure you’re not smuggling anyone out of the city.”

“Smuggling someone! You’re joking, right?”

“Haven’t you heard about the plot against King Manasseh?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“The king already executed two of the conspirators. We’re looking for the rest of them.”

“You’re not going to make me empty my entire cart! I have a long journey home. I’ll never make it there by sunset at this rate. And tomorrow’s the Sabbath.”

“The other choice is to let me run my spear through your load.”

“But what if you rip a bag of grain? I’ll be spilling my supplies all the way home!”

“It’s up to you, sir.”

Joshua’s heart tried to pound out of his chest. He could feel Sara shaking beneath him.

“I have a third alternative,” Maki said quietly. “I’ll give you a halfshekel of silver to lift the cover and take a quick look so I can be on my way.”

“I can’t do that, sir.”

“A full shekel, then. Have mercy on my servant here. The sun is already getting hot, and he has to push this load over the Beth-Horon Pass.” The soldier didn’t reply.

That shekel was the last of Jerimoth’s money. Now they were broke. Joshua tried taking slow, even breaths so he wouldn’t cough. Then sunlight streamed through the cracks above him as someone removed the goatskins.

“The others might be watching,” the guard mumbled. “I have to pretend to spear your load.”

“My grain is on the bottom. Be careful.”

Suddenly the tip of a razor-sharp spear sliced into Joshua’s left shoulder. He clenched his teeth to keep from crying out.

“All right. Move along,” the guard said.

The cart quickly rumbled forward again. They were moving downhill. Then the jostling motion changed as they left the cobblestone pavement of the city ramp and moved onto the dirt road leading away from the city.

They had made it. They were safe.

Gradually, the first numbness of shock wore off and excruciating pain began to radiate down Joshua’s shoulder and arm from the spear wound. The back of his tunic grew warm and sticky. He was losing a lot of blood.

“Are you all right?” he whispered to Sara.

“Yes. Are you?”

“I’m fine.” But he wasn’t. Each jolt of the groaning cart sent shivers of pain through him.
Please hurry,
he silently pleaded. Instead, the cart drew to a stop again. He heard the muffled sound of a baby crying, then Nathan’s voice.

“Can you spare a crust of bread? My sister hasn’t eaten all day.” Joshua knew the road must be crowded with travelers since the boys were continuing their charade.

“Can you handle a cart, boy?” Maki asked. “I’ll give all three of you something to eat if you help my servant push this down the mountain and over the next pass.”

The cart began to move again, lurching, jostling downhill, pitching Joshua forward against the front of the cart until the pain in his shoulder was agonizing. He closed his eyes, hoping the whirling dizziness in his head would stop. The baby’s screams added to the tension. They should be almost to the hiding place Maki had found. He said it wasn’t far.
Hurry!

The road surface changed again. Now they were crossing rugged, uneven terrain. The jerking motion sent stabs of pain down Joshua’s left arm and his back until he could no longer stifle his moans. Suddenly the cart bumped to an abrupt stop. The load on top of him grew lighter as Maki and Jerimoth lifted the cargo out. Then they reached in for him.

“Joshua! You’re bleeding!” Jerimoth cried. “Sara. . . ?”

“I’m all right. But my baby . . . my poor baby. Give her to me.”

With Maki’s help, Joshua stumbled out of the cart and sank down on the grass. He was only dimly aware of Jerimoth’s family huddled together, weeping for joy. The burning pain in his shoulder overshadowed everything else.

“Open your tunic. Let me see the wound,” Miriam said. She knelt beside him, holding a skin of wine from the cart. He tried to do what she said, but it hurt too much to move his arm. She gently peeled his bloody tunic off his shoulder. Joshua gasped as she poured some of the wine into the wound. “Here. Drink some.” She pressed the wineskin into his hand and watched as he took a few swallows. “I have to stop the bleeding,” she told him. “It’s going to hurt.”

Joshua gritted his teeth as she pressed her hands on his back to hold the wound closed. “Is it very deep?” he asked.

“About an inch. But it’s a clean wound, not ragged. It should heal well. Abba, do you have anything I can use for a bandage?”

Sara unwound her sash. “Here. Take this.”

“Just hurry,” Joshua said. “We have to get to my sister’s house before Manasseh’s soldiers do.”

“Praise God, everything else went well,” Jerimoth said, exhaling.

“Mattan, you’ve done a splendid job with your new sister. Come, let me introduce you properly.” The little boy beamed as he edged closer to where Jerimoth sat beside his wife. The baby had finally stopped crying, but the occasional sob still shuddered through her.

“Sara, my love, we have a new son,” Jerimoth said. “His name is Mattan. He . . . Sara, why on earth do you feel so . . . so lumpy?”

“It’s your silver and gold, Jerimoth. When the guards weren’t looking I sewed every piece I could find into my dress.”

“It’s much too dangerous,” Jerimoth said. “I can’t let you put Nathan at risk. That’s final.”

Joshua grabbed his brother’s arm as he started to turn away. “You know what happened in the marketplace. The whole plan almost fell through because the guards wouldn’t chase an imaginary thief. But if they see Maki being robbed, it’ll be different.”

“And what if one of the soldiers catches Nathan? What then?”

Joshua didn’t want to think about that possibility. He glanced over to where Nathan and Mattan sat with Miriam, near the cart.

“Why don’t we ask him, Jerimoth. Let him be the one to decide.”

Maki joined them as Joshua explained the plan to Nathan. The boy sneered with contempt at Jerimoth’s concern. “I’m not afraid of any soldiers. They haven’t caught me yet, and they’re not about to.”

“But you know your way around the back alleys of Jerusalem,” Maki said. “This is different. This is a strange city, and—”

“They’ll never catch us. Right, Mattan?”

“Don’t involve Mattan,” Jerimoth said. “He’s too young to—” “Who gave you the right to tell us what to do?” Nathan shouted.

“We don’t need you. You need us! My brother and I can take care of ourselves.”

“We’re wasting time,” Joshua said. “If Nathan’s willing to do it, then it’s settled.”

They left Miriam, Sara, and the baby hidden among the bushes with the cart and made their way to their sister’s home in Anathoth, a half mile down the road. The wound in Joshua’s shoulder throbbed dully, and he tried not to use his left arm, keeping it pressed against his chest so it wouldn’t start bleeding again.

They soon reached the crooked street where Tirza and Joel lived. Their house was jammed into a modest neighborhood beside a dozen homes just like it. Two guards stood in a meager patch of shade out front, talking. Joshua had planned this rescue for the noon hour, when the sun was hot, so the street would be deserted.

“Everyone ready?” he asked. “Do you remember what to do?”

“Let Mattan stay here,” Jerimoth begged. “Please, he’s just a child. Why involve him in our family’s mess?”

“We have no choice,” Joshua said angrily. “I don’t see anyone else racing to our family’s defense, do you?”

Nathan folded his arms across his chest as if squaring for a fight. “Mattan and I aren’t afraid.”

Joshua wasn’t fooled by Nathan’s bravado. Fear raced through his own veins, colliding with the heavy stone in his stomach. The others must be trembling, as well. “Just be careful,” he told Nathan.

Jerimoth rested his hand briefly on Mattan’s head. “Yahweh go with you, son.” While Maki and the boys left to stage the robbery on the street in front of the house, Joshua and Jerimoth ducked down the alley toward the rear of the house.

The simple four-room home was all that Joel and Tirza could afford until Joel entered the priesthood at age thirty. That was still four years away. Until then, Joel’s job was to study the Torah with the other scholars, memorizing the multitude of priestly laws and regulations.

Joshua knew that his father had been supporting them financially. But the young couple’s life was about to change forever. He wondered how much help Joel would be in a fight.

Joshua’s mother, Jerusha, was inside, too. Did she know about Abba? Or about Dinah and Grandpa? He dreaded the moment when they would have to tell her. For now, he pushed all distracting thoughts from his mind, concentrating on what he had to do next.

He peered over the wall at the tiny paved courtyard behind the house. He expected to find another guard by the rear door, but the yard was deserted. The rear window was shuttered against the sun’s heat, but the door stood open. He watched it for as long as he dared, scanning the bushes and neighboring yards. He saw no guards anywhere. Time was short. He pulled Miriam’s kitchen knife out of his belt. It was more suited to chopping vegetables than attacking armed soldiers, but it was their only weapon. He doubted if Maki or his brother could use a sword, even if they had one. They were cloth merchants, not warriors.