Rebekah's Treasure (47 page)

I hear the small waterfall splashing merrily ahead and picture Ethan’s face when he arrives. At first it will be crinkled with annoyance. Yes, as wrinkled as a raisin. But then he’ll smile and fall into my arms.
And what will we talk about? Esther, for one. And Demas’s growing attention. Should I worry? Could their growing affection lead to something more? And if so, would Ethan object to a Gentile as a husband for Esther? I must ask him for I see how Demas and Esther are beginning to look at one another.

I enter our secret refuge of shimmering pool and greenery. I love it here. There will be nothing like this at Masada. I look up at the sky and see that the sun is already overhead. I must hurry if I’m to be ready for Ethan. I carefully place my perfume near a clump of reeds, then unbraid my hair. But just as I’m about to remove my tunic to bathe, I hear a rustling sound behind me, and then a voice.

“I was beginning to think my little quail was never going to fall into my trap,” a man says, snorting with laughter.

Whirling around, I stand and blink stupidly. I don’t recognize him. His clothes appear costly, but he smells like rotting fish. His mouth arcs in a wide grin, revealing decaying, brown teeth. His eyes are cruel and hard. A large scar covers one cheek.

“Who are you!” I demand, trying to sound braver than I feel. My hand reaches for a large stone, but the man is swift and grabs my arm.

“She has courage, this wife of Ethan, eh?” He looks up at the ledge above the falls. I follow his gaze and see a half dozen men standing there, then notice what looks like an opening barely visible through the dense vegetation.

“That’s right,” Lamech says, grinning. “There’s a cave up there.”

“Hurry and bring her here before Ethan comes,” one of the men shouts. There’s fear in his voice.

The scarred man laughs as he cups my face with the dirt encrusted fingers of his free hand. “Yes, Ethan will surely be here soon, for I’ve seen how he loves to sport with his wife.” When I knock his hand away, he quickly pulls an ornate dagger from his belted waist. “Careful, woman. I’m not a tolerant man.”

“Don’t kill her, Lamech!” one of the men shouts in panic. “We’ll never get the treasure then.”

The scarred man grins and gently brushes the tip of his dagger across my neck. “Just a little more pressure, that’s all it would take. Remember that. If you give me trouble, any trouble at all, I’ll slit your throat.” With that he grabs my arm and pulls me to a path so obscured by dense vegetation I never noticed it before.

And as I’m yanked and jerked up the steep incline, I chide myself for coming here alone, for not listening to Ethan, and I burn with anger. But I don’t know what angers me most: that I have fallen into the hands of this pig, or that all this time he and his men have been watching Ethan and me make love.

I’m sweaty and bruised and cut from my forced rapid climb. But I’m hardly settled on the ledge above the waterfall, when I see Ethan.

“Rebekah,” he calls, as he looks around the pool.

Lamech yanks me to my feet. Then grabbing me by the hair on the back of my head, he forces my chin upward and lays the blade of his dagger against my throat.

“She’s up here, Ethan, with me,” Lamech shouts over the noise of the splattering falls. “And if you don’t want to see her die, you’ll make no trouble and listen to me carefully.”

At once, Ethan’s own dagger flashes in his hand. “If you hurt her, I’ll not spare any of you. We’ve both seen how the Romans can kill a man slowly, until he begs for death. Mark my words, Lamech, I’ll reserve such a treatment for you.”

Lamech snorts with laughter. “I have no wish to hurt your wife. I have no interest in her except to get your attention. But it’s not even you I want. It’s the treasure. You cheated me, Ethan, and now you must make amends.”

Ethan unties the money pouch at his waist. “Here, take what I have on me and let Rebekah go.”

Perspiration drips from Lamech’s face. “I spotted you when your party was only two days from here. My men and I were working the trail,
looking for suitable plunder, but never expected to find such a prize! And you, the big general, not knowing you were being followed! Ha! No wonder Jerusalem fell to the Romans.” Sweat drips into Lamech’s eyes making him squint, and I wonder if he sweats from fear or the heat.

“But do you think I’d bother to follow you all the way here for the meager coins in your pouch? Or stay day and night lying in wait in the cave behind me with men who smell like goats and have the brains of Sodom apples?” He ignores his men when they grumble.

“Yes, I see what useless fodder you’ve recruited,” Ethan says with a sneer.

“Well, what could I do, eh? After you and your Masada Zealots killed all my other men I was forced to glean where I could. But never mind. It’s pointless to bring up
all
your transgressions.”

Ethan ties the pouch back onto his belt. “You know the Zealots took most of the treasure to Masada. If you want it so badly go get it.”

“Ah, Ethan, Ethan, why be difficult? I’ve heard the rumors. We both know that vast temple treasure is buried all over our land. But you never wanted to share. Well, now I think you will.”

“There’s plenty of treasure in the tombs—Absalom’s, David’s, Queen Helena’s. There, I’ve told you what you wanted to know. You don’t need me now. Dig where I said and you’ll find enough treasure to satisfy even your greed.”

Lamech laughs. “And all under the watchful eyes of the 10
^th
Legion, eh?”

“That’s where most of the treasure is.”

“But not all, not all, Ethan, eh?”

When my husband doesn’t answer, Lamech nicks me with his blade, drawing blood. I bite my lip not to cry out and give Lamech any pleasure, or give Ethan any grief. Blood drips down my neck onto the blade, then down my tunic. Lamech holds the bloody dagger in the air. “A little deeper, Ethan, and I could have killed her. What say you now?”

“No, not all the treasure is in Jerusalem. There’s still some in the Valley of Achor.”

“Achor?” Lamech brightens. “How much treasure?”

“Two pots of silver coins.”

“Pots? Small pots, large pots? What?”

“I don’t know. But they’ll have to do. Because that’s all the treasure you and your men will get.”

Lamech, still holding me tightly by the hair, yanks my head back hard, exposing my bloody neck. “You’re in no position to dictate terms. Don’t think I won’t kill your wife if you don’t give me what I want.”

Ethan shakes his head. “You won’t kill her. She’s the only thing keeping you alive. If she dies, there’ll be nothing to stop me from coming after you.”

Lamech smiles and releases my hair. “You’re a logical man. I respect that. And you’re right. What have I to gain by such an act? I’m a business man, not a cutthroat. My only desire is to make a meager living so, yes, I’ll accept the two pots. See how reasonable I am? I’ll return to Achor and wait for you there. You can bring your two sons to help you dig, but no one else. We’ll be watching.”

Lamech shoves me away, making me stumble into the men behind me. He then pulls an object, about the size of his hand, from his tunic. It is wrapped in a dirty cloth. He throws it down to where Ethan stands and there it lands by the reeds. “In four days we’ll come for the coins.”

“It will take us nearly two to get to Hyrcania, and who knows how long to find the pots. Do you think Eleazar left a trail in the dirt for us to follow? We need more time.”

“Four days. That’s all you have.” He points to the object by the reeds. “It’s a bell. Carry it with you. And listen carefully. This is how it will be. When you’ve located the treasure, you will ring it, alerting me and my men we are to come and fetch it, and when we do, we will bring your wife with us and make the trade. Your wife for the two pots. But before the exchange, I’ll send one of my men to tell you where to meet us. I, not you, will pick the ground. And it will not be where you or your sons can lay a trap.”

Lamech’s face tightens and his mouth forms an ugly sneer. “You must follow my instructions completely. And don’t even think of trying anything foolish. Remember, we’ll be watching your every move. Four days, you have four days. After that I’ll begin sending your wife back to you in pieces.”

Ethan doesn’t flinch. He appears so calm and in control that it surely must unnerve Lamech. Only someone who knows him well would know how deeply distressed he is. I watch the fingers of one hand curl into a fist; watch him move his foot slightly as if bracing himself. “I will see you in Hyrcania,” he shouts as he picks up the wrapped bell near his feet. Then, after a quick glance at me, he disappears.

The pull of the rope yanks me forward, chafing my neck and the wound Lamech gave me, and nearly causes me to stumble. My hands are tied in front, my neck roped, my tunic torn, my face and body caked with dirt. I could be one of Titus’s captives. At the other end of the rope is a thin, sinewy man with a face as pocked as the ground we travel. I suppose he yanks the rope from time to time to see if I’m still there, because he never looks back. I’m only an object to be transported, a burden like the water skins, food, weapons, and other supplies his companions carry in large bags over their shoulders.

I glance upward, past the dusty, barren-looking mountains surrounding us, and see that the sun will soon slide into its resting place for the night. All day we’ve been traveling at a furious pace, along narrow footpaths and rocky mountain ledges, through ravines and around cliffs. It’s obvious Lamech wants to get to Hyrcania before Ethan. To secrete his men in advantageous positions? To prepare a trap? Will a man like Lamech be content with only two pots of silver? It’s doubtful. But I saw his face when Ethan entered the pool area. I saw the fear. Perhaps fear will force contentment. But will Ethan even give such holy treasure to a cutthroat and thief like Lamech? Knowing Ethan, it’s hard to imagine.

“Faster!” Lamech growls, pushing one of his men forward with his hand. “We must get there before dark. Do you think I want that jackal to outflank us?”

Oh, yes, this madman fears my Ethan. My gentle bear, my love. I’d find it amusing if I wasn’t so miserable. I run my dry tongue over parched, crusty lips. My mouth feels as though it’s lined with sand. My neck and feet bleed. I’m nearly faint from heat, from having eaten only one small handful of almonds and from having walked for hours without rest. The mountains squeeze me. They rise to the sky like monoliths, taking the air with them. I’m finding it hard to breathe. I’ve never been to this part of the Judean Desert. How could anything survive here? Still, I’m determined not to appear weak. I must not beg for food or water or rest. As I gather my remaining strength and courage like a poor gleaner who gathers the last kernels in the corners of a field, I remember that I’m in God’s hands, not theirs. It will be His decision if I live or die. I take quick shallow breaths trying to fill my starving lungs, and pray.

Oh, Lord be strong in my weakness!

“Wash yourself,” Lamech says, pointing to a water skin. “I dislike dirty women.” He grins. “I’ve seen how beautiful you can look.” Bending closer, he strokes my loose, tangled hair. “Especially this,” he says, letting the strands fall through his dirt caked fingers.