Faith of My Fathers (42 page)

“You have no idea how hard I prayed for God to deliver me from Manasseh. There were so many times when I thought it would never happen, that God didn’t hear my cries. But He did, Hadad. He heard.

And He sent you. He
is
the God of the impossible, just as Abba always said He was.”

“Your family has a lot of faith in God, don’t they?”

“If you had known my grandfather, you would understand why. He loved Yahweh the way the Torah tells us to—with all his heart and all his soul and all his strength. He lived his faith every day of his life, and he taught Abba to believe by his example. Abba passed his faith on to all of us. I always knew that if my earthly father loved me that much, then my Heavenly Father must love me even more.”

Hadad reached to gently wipe her tears with his fingertips. “I envy you for that. My grandfather didn’t know God. And I’ve never really known what it means to be loved.”

“Do you know God, Hadad?”

“I’d like to.”

“Someday when I teach my children about Yahweh, I’ll tell them how He sent an angel named Hadad to rescue me.”

He pulled her into his arms and rested his cheek against her hair before releasing her again. “We should go, Dinah. Do you think you can make it the last couple of miles to the border?”

“I think so.”

“I’ll try to buy us a ride on the next cart that comes our way, all right?”

As they walked on for another hour, Hadad’s promise of finding a ride kept Dinah going. But when she finally saw a cart coming up the road behind them she changed her mind about hitching a ride. It was a funeral cart, bearing a shrouded body. Two women walked beside it, leading a sway-backed donkey.

“Hadad, I don’t think we should—

“Miriam!” he shouted. “Dinah, that’s Miriam!” Hadad started running down the road toward the cart before Dinah could ask who Miriam was. Dinah watched as he lifted one of the women into his arms and whirled her around, laughing. “Am I ever glad to see you!” he said.

As Dinah walked toward the cart, the other woman suddenly pulled the scarf off of her head. Dinah stared in astonishment. It was Prince Amariah. Hadad saw him too.

“Amariah? I can’t believe it!” Hadad cried. “That crazy fool said he was going to rescue you, but I didn’t think Joshua would actually—” Hadad stopped suddenly, a look of horror on his face as he turned his gaze to the shrouded body. “Oh, please . . . no . . .”

Dinah’s legs collapsed beneath her as she fit all the pieces together. The corpse on the funeral cart was Joshua.

Amariah caught her before she hit the ground. But it took a few moments for his words to penetrate her shock.

“It’s all right, Dinah. It’s all right. He isn’t dead; he’s alive. Joshua is alive!”

“The omens all promise that you will live, Your Majesty. Your enemy has not prevailed.”

Zerah’s words should have reassured Manasseh, but they didn’t. His body still felt violated, vulnerable. He ached from lying in the same position, yet he was afraid to move, afraid he would rip himself open again, spilling his insides.

“Where’s Amariah? I thought I told you to send him in here? Is my brother refusing to cooperate again?” He saw Zerah and one of his bodyguards exchange glances. “Tell me what’s going on!” Manasseh ordered.

“I’d like everyone to leave the room, please,” Zerah said.

Manasseh lay back and waited, bracing himself for bad news. Zerah paced at the foot of his bed, cracking his knuckles. Manasseh knew him well—the priest was extremely upset.

“Your body needs time to heal, Your Majesty. You must not let this news upset you and start the bleeding again.”

“Tell me where Amariah is.”

“He’s gone, my lord. He disappeared. I had men following him, but he slipped away from them. We’re searching the city.”

“Well, he couldn’t have gone far. Where would he go? Surely he’ll come back when—”

“He won’t be back. We found this in his room.” Zerah held up a potsherd. Manasseh knew without looking at it that there would be an ox scratched on one side. He shuddered with the same impotent rage he’d felt after Dinah stabbed him. Joshua, his enemy, had been here, inside his own palace, conspiring with his brother.

“They won’t get away with this!”

“There’s more,” Zerah said quietly. “Dinah is gone, too.”

“How? How is that possible? Where were the guards? Don’t tell me Joshua took her, too?”

“It appears so, Your Majesty. He and his forces must have stolen into Jerusalem with the Passover crowds. They created a huge disturbance at the Temple this morning. The explosion you heard a while ago was a grain silo. Eight people were killed, including three guards. Dozens more were injured. In all the confusion, Amariah and Dinah both disappeared.”

“It’s your fault, Zerah! I told you to execute her, but no! It was your idea to take her up to the Temple!”

“I take full responsibility, Your Majesty. I’m sorry.”

“Meaningless words! Get out of here and leave me alone!” Manasseh’s anger and frustration had him close to tears. Joshua had beaten him. He had always beaten him.

“Before I leave there is something else you should know.” Zerah spoke rapidly now, as if spilling the bad news quickly might soften the blow. “In the aftermath of the explosion, once the fires were extinguished, my priests realized that none of the Levites had helped them. My men began a search, and it seems the Levites have disappeared, as well, along with their families. Their houses are filled with possessions but no inhabitants.”

“They were all against me anyway. Good riddance to them!” But in spite of his words, a terrible emptiness and dread filled Manasseh.

“Your Majesty, when I learned that a witness reported a smuggling operation down by the Temple dump, I decided to see what else had been stolen.”

Manasseh closed his eyes. He didn’t want to hear any more. He was the king, yet he felt horribly impotent. How had Joshua stolen his wife, his brother, his treasures, and all the priests and Levites right out from under him?

“How much did they take?”

“It’s not a matter of how much, Your Majesty . . . it’s
what
they’ve taken. The ark of the covenant is gone.”

Joshua’s audacity stunned Manasseh. It also terrified him. It was a moment before he could speak. “
Joshua
stole it, didn’t he?”

“We found his signature inside the holy place.” Zerah’s voice had grown more hushed with each new revelation.

Manasseh understood what a powerful national symbol the ark was and how his enemy might use it against him. As all the pieces of Joshua’s plan fell into place, Manasseh suddenly cried out.

“He’s going to challenge my throne! That’s why he took Amariah. And that’s why he took all the priests. They have the authority to anoint the king of Judah. And thanks to you, he has Dinah, as well. If Amariah marries her, it will strengthen his claim to my throne!”

He could tell by the look of astonishment on Zerah’s face that he hadn’t fit all the clues together until now. Zerah sank onto a chair, his face unnaturally pale. “I had no idea how truly powerful your enemy was.”

But Manasseh knew. “I was warned a long time ago,” he murmured. “When Joshua and I were children, a beggar-woman once read our palms. She told me that Joshua would be too powerful for me . . . and that he would try to destroy me.”

“You should have told me.”

“I never wanted to believe it. But now that I finally understand what I’m up against, I’ll be ready for him the next time. This isn’t over between Joshua and me. This is far from over.”

The cool, wet cloth bathing his face nudged Joshua into consciousness. He ached. Every inch of him ached. His body felt heavy and dull, but his pounding head felt heavier still. Where was he? And what had happened to immobilize him this way?

He heard a woman’s garbled voice, but he couldn’t make out what she was saying above the ringing in his ears. It took an enormous effort to open one eye. There was nothing but pain and darkness where his other eye should have been. He saw a woman hovering over him, but her image danced and wavered like a mirage.

Someone helped him sit up, and the woman put a cup to his mouth. His lips felt tender and swollen, but he drank the water greedily.

“What happened?” he mumbled.

“You blew up half the Temple Mount, that’s what! And you almost blew yourself to paradise along with it.” The man’s voice sounded muffled and far away, yet familiar. Joshua searched his memory to place it.

“Hadad?”

“Yes! I’m glad you can still remember something!”

“I remember . . .” He groaned and closed his eye again. His head hurt so much when he tried to think. He remembered trying to light the torch. His hands had been shaking, and he couldn’t get the flint to work. But he must have gotten it lit because he remembered flames afterward. And heat. “Where am I?”

“In Samaritan territory. We’re all safe, Joshua. We crossed the border a little while ago.”

“Who did?”

“Miriam and I . . . Prince Amariah . . . and your sister Dinah.”

“Dinah?”

“Yes, Joshua. I’m right here.” She took him gently in her arms and pressed her cheek to his. He felt her tears on his face. “Thank you for coming back for me. Thank you for saving me.”

Then he felt his own tears as the memory of what he had done finally returned. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her fiercely, ignoring the pain.

“Dinah! All this time . . . we thought you were dead.”

“And I thought you were dead when I saw you lying on this funeral cart.”

“How did I get here? Hadad, did you. . . ?”

“It wasn’t me; it was Miriam. She went back to the Temple for you.”

“And it was her idea to hire the funeral cart,” Amariah added. “She saved your life, Joshua.”

“Where is she?”

“She’s watering the donkey,” Hadad said, laughing. “She’s the only one of us who knows how to handle the cursed thing.”

“Get her for me.”

Joshua slowly took stock of his body while he waited. He was glad to see that he could move his legs and feet as well as his arms. Nothing seemed to be broken, just terribly sore. When he gingerly touched his face and swollen right eye it brought needles of sharp pain. But once his head stopped aching and his vision cleared, he would probably be fine.

“You wanted to see me, Master Joshua?”

He groped for her hand. When he found it, he held it between his. “I’ve treated you badly, Miriam. And yet you still saved my life. I’ll never be able to thank you.”

“All those stories Lady Jerusha told me about God are true, Master Joshua. I didn’t save you; He did. Yahweh saved all of us.”

Yahweh had done it.

The ark of the covenant; the holy books; the priests and Levites and their families; Yael; Prince Amariah; Dinah—they were all safe from Manasseh.

They were safe.

Joshua imagined Manasseh’s astonishment when he discovered all that he had lost. And his rage when he realized who had stolen it from him.

But then Joshua recalled Jerimoth’s words and he knew that his brother had been right—Joshua’s hunger for revenge wasn’t satisfied. What he had accomplished could never bring Abba back. Or his grandfather.

“It isn’t enough . . .” he mumbled.

As long as Manasseh was alive, it would never be enough.

Epilogue

J
OSHUA STOOD IN THE DOORWAY
to the courtyard of his house in Moab and watched his mother as she bent over the kneading trough. The aroma of baking bread drifted from the outdoor oven.

“Mama . . .”

Jerusha turned and saw him. “Oh!” she breathed. “Oh, praise God!”

Joshua hurried across the yard on stiff legs and clasped his mother in his arms. Her hands, white with flour, left trails of dust in his hair and on his tunic as she ran them over him as if to see if he was real.

“Joshua . . . your face!” she cried.

“It’s healing, Mama.” He was glad that Dinah had convinced him to hide the damaged side beneath a bandage. “Listen, I have a surprise for you. Sit here on the bench and close your eyes.”

“One surprise is more than enough. I can’t believe you’re finally home!”

“Close them. And no peeking.” He waited until Dinah stood in the doorway, her eyes already shining with tears, then said, “All right, Mama, you can open them.”