In the Field of Grace (45 page)

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Authors: Tessa Afshar

BOOK: In the Field of Grace
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During the months Rahab had been under Zedek’s protection, she had met other influential men of his acquaintance. Several of them had hinted that when Zedek was finished, they would be happy to replace him.

Rahab chose carefully, and only one lover at a time. She was stinting in her acceptance of men. Her clients were few, but generous. Her unusual selectiveness enhanced her popularity among men of the higher classes. Each wanted to be chosen over the others. Rahab became the competition they sought to win.

“Rahab, you are the most beautiful woman in Jericho,” more than one man told her. “Even the king doesn’t have a woman in his household to compare to you,” they whispered in her ear.

Some days such words put a smile on her face, though it was a shallow joy that never lasted. In her heart she believed that any of those men who claimed her to be incomparable would tire of her inside of three months and discard her like bones after a feast.

Sometimes after being with a man, she would curl on her mattress and shake, unable to stop. There were days when she would kiss her lover good-bye, smile at him as though he were the center of her world, close the door and vomit. She hated what she did. But she did not stop. She believed she had no alternative. What else could she become after what she had been? Her life was locked into this destiny.

By the time Rahab was seventeen, she had enough silver to purchase an inn on the city wall. Leaving home came easier than she imagined. Two years of absent nights and shamed days had taught her to distance herself from her family. Her body followed where her
heart had long been. It’s not that she loved her family any less than before. Often in her little inn, she was lonely for them, but found that being with them only made her lonelier. So she increasingly gave her time to the demands of her inn.

Most innkeepers in Canaan were also harlots, so much so that the terms had become interchangeable. Rahab, however, separated her professions. Not everyone who stayed at her inn was welcome to her bed. She made certain that her inn gained a reputation for simple elegance and comfort. Decorating it with woven tapestries and rich carpets, she avoided the gaudy ornamentation common among other inns. The location helped. The wall remained an exclusive dwelling place in Jericho, and in spite of the inevitable diminutiveness of the residences and establishments built into it, they represented some of Jericho’s most desirable properties. By the time Rahab turned twenty-six, her inn was as popular as she herself, though like her body, it often remained empty. It was that very exclusivity which made it a sought-after destination.

Chapter Two

 

T
he first time Rahab heard about Israel, she was entertaining. Sprawled under a carelessly flung linen sheet, she watched through half closed eyes as her lover, Jobab, paced about. His brow was so knotted it reminded her of a walnut shell. She could see he was agitated, but waited with patience until he was ready to speak. Men admired women who kept quiet at the right times. When he finally tired of striding about like a trapped lion, he spoke.

“Rahab, the Hebrews defeated King Sihon and his sons last night. The great king of the Amorites was routed by a band of nomads. Now all of Canaan is in danger.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, pulling the sheet around her and sitting up. “Sihon can’t be defeated.” Sihon, one of the great kings east of the Jordan River, ruled like an eagle over his kingdom. She had heard men call him undefeatable, his kingdom secure forever.

“He
was
defeated, I tell you. By the Hebrews. Their leader, an old man named Moses, sent a message to Sihon requesting permission to travel the King’s Highway in peace. Sihon not only denied
them passage, but he mustered his army and attacked them at Jahaz. He must have thought it would be an easy victory. However, it didn’t take long for the Hebrews to turn the battle.” Jobab stopped speaking and stared at nothing in particular as if words had failed him. “They’re fierce. They don’t even have proper armor. So when Sihon’s army started to run—”

Rahab sat up straight. “Sihon’s army ran?”

“What am I telling you? They were pulverized. And those not killed immediately ran. But the armorless Hebrews ran faster and caught up with them. They even killed some with slings. Sihon’s glorious capital, Heshbon, brought down by slings. Who shall sleep safe in their beds after this?”

Rahab’s mouth dropped open at his words. To her, as to all who first heard of these events, they seemed outlandish. Impossible. “Who are these Hebrews? I’ve never heard of them. How do they wield such power?” Her voice sounded shrill in her own ears.

“That’s the wonder. They are nobody. A bunch of runaway slaves.” Jobab sank down to the floor and slumped against the wall. “Forty years ago they ran away from Egypt, and they’ve been wandering in the wilderness ever since. They have no cities, no walls, no fields to plant or plow, no vineyards to harvest. Everyone has ignored them.”

“What you say makes no sense. How could an army of slaves run away from Egypt? As if a pharaoh would ever allow it. This is an empty rumor.” She looked at him, her fears reined in. Crossing her arms, she leaned back against a pillow.

Jobab raised his arms in exasperation. “Rahab, you’re just too young to know about it. There was a great revolt in Egypt among the Hebrew slaves, led by this same man, Moses. He claimed his god wanted Pharaoh to free the Hebrews. Pharaoh refused at first, but so many plagues befell the Egyptians at the hands of the Hebrew god that Pharaoh
had
to let them go. Egypt was in ruins. Then, at the last minute, he changed his mind. As the Hebrews were leaving, Pharaoh mobilized his army and pursued them.”

“Don’t tell me the slaves brought Pharaoh’s chariots down with their slingshots.” Rahab smirked.

Jobab sighed. “Nothing so ordinary. Their escape route brought them to a dead end against the sea. Behind them came Pharaoh’s invincible army. Before them lay a body of water impossible to cross. They were doomed. And then their god parted the sea.”

Rahab raised an eyebrow. “Come now.”

“He parted the sea, I tell you! Divided it right up the middle. They walked straight through to the other side on dry ground with the water piled up all around them. Then, when Pharaoh and his army tried to follow, the waves came crashing down on top of them. Every single one of them perished.”

Now that Jobab was rehearsing the story, Rahab remembered hearing about the mysterious death of one of the Egyptian Pharaohs and his army. It was when her parents were young. Egypt had not yet recovered its great strength after that loss. What kind of god wielded so much power? If this was all true, who could stand against such a god? She began to understand the scent of fear that clung to Jobab.

Bending, she picked up her shift from the woven rug on the floor and pulled it over her head. “Do you wish to stay the night? I can cook you supper if you want.” Better she focus on her own menial tasks than the workings of kings and gods. What had she, a mere innkeeper, to do with such great events?

But she couldn’t get Jobab’s stories out of her mind. In the morning the soldiers at the gate confirmed what he’d said, at least about the destruction of Sihon. Heshbon had fallen to the Hebrews. Surely that was frightening enough without bringing magical powers into it.

 

Along with everyone else in Canaan, Rahab soon heard more distressing news about the Hebrews. In the months following the defeat of Sihon they triumphed in other astonishing battles. They
besieged and captured the walled cities of Nophah, Medeba, and Dibon, killing all their inhabitants. With every defeat Canaan grew more petrified. Rumors abounded. The Hebrews were giants. They were numberless. Their weapons were forged of a metal no one could break. They had winged horses. They grew larger than life with every victory.

Rahab disbelieved these exaggerated accounts about the Hebrew people. She recalled Jobab’s words as he told her about the destruction of Sihon. They were nobodies. No sophisticated weaponry, no armor, no land, no riches. This was the true picture of the Hebrews, she believed. And yet they were vanquishing town after town, army after army. What was it about these people?

Even Jericho, sophisticated Jericho with her ancient walls and well-trained army, grew pensive. Canaan boasted many walled cities, but none to compare with Rahab’s home. The walls of Jericho were a marvel. They were so thick that people built houses and places of business into them. In the land of Canaan, when they wanted to make a point about someone’s strength, they said he was built like the walls of Jericho. But even the people of Jericho were unnerved by the astonishing victories of the Hebrews east of the Jordan River.

Sacrifices increased in those months as people sought protection against the threat of this terrifying new enemy. Rahab could smell the burning flesh from the temple fires a league away. The priests grew slack-jawed and grey from lack of sleep. People poured into the temples and high places at such a rate the king finally appointed soldiers to keep order. Rumor had it the temple prostitutes were kept busy day and night. Rahab pitied them. She hoped they were too exhausted to think or feel anymore.

The desperate idolatry of her people did not attract Rahab. The more she saw their faith in practice, the more she reviled it. Not even fear and desperation would drive her into the arms of Asherah, Baal, or Molech.

Her life went on despite the upheavals outside her walls. She left Jobab, and for a long season her inn and her bed were empty. Fewer
people traveled those days for fear of marauding foreigners. She had enough gold saved up that the temporary lack of income didn’t worry her. Her father’s land could always use an extra pair of hands, and she spent her days in the fields, doing the hard work of farmers. Her skin grew brown and her nails ragged.
Not good for my trade
, she thought, examining their rough edges one afternoon under the hot sun. The realization made her smile. Though she would eagerly have chosen this at fifteen, she knew she couldn’t earn a living off manual labor. The life of a farmhand was short and far from sweet, and she hadn’t the strength.

One evening she received an invitation to a feast thrown by a distant cousin of the king. Through the years, she had become a favored guest at receptions given by influential men who desired sophisticated entertainment away from their wives. She went to the feast knowing she could not afford by her continued absence to be forgotten among such wealthy circles.

Rahab chose a dress in flowing cream silk edged in silver embroidery. Her clothing never marked her as a harlot. She dressed as any fashionable lady in Canaan might, leaning toward simplicity rather than high style. She found that the curves of a woman’s body, when displayed with clever modesty, provided far more drama than any outrageous garment might. Unlike current fashion, which demanded that women curl their hair into elaborate tiny tendrils on top of their heads, Rahab preferred to leave her hair loose down her back. She wore long dangled earrings and matching armbands on her bare arms. She did not intend to stay long, but merely to make an impression.

“Rahab!” her host exclaimed as he spotted her walking in, his long face wreathed in a smile.

She removed his hand from her hip and made a graceful curtsy. “Your servant.”

“I wish you were.”

She smiled into his eyes. “Your villa sparkles this evening, my lord.”

“Now that you are here, it certainly does.”

She laughed. “The dangerous royal charm.” Any distant cousin of the king liked being referred to as
royal
, she knew. The royal hand was snaking too close to Rahab’s lower back and she stepped quickly away, bumping into a hard body. Turning around, she exclaimed, “Your pardon.”

She knew the man by sight. He served as a high general in the army—one of Jericho’s leading men of war. What was his name? Debir, she remembered.

“Evasive maneuvers,” he said straight-faced. “I understand.” Small laugh lines crinkled around his eyes. Rahab flushed and turned her head for a quick look. Her host had moved to another conversation.

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