The Crimson Cord: Rahab's Story

© 2015 by Jill Eileen Smith

Published by Revell

a division of Baker Publishing Group

P.O. Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287

www.revellbooks.com

Ebook edition created 2015

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.

ISBN 978-1-4412-2115-5

Unless otherwise indicated, Scripture quotations are from the Holy Bible, New International Version®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide.
www.zondervan.com

Scripture quotations labeled ESV are from The Holy Bible, English Standard Version® (ESV®), copyright © 2001 by Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved. ESV Text Edition: 2007

Scripture quotations labeled NKJV are from the New King James Version. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

This is a work of historical reconstruction; the appearances of certain historical figures are therefore inevitable. All other characters, however, are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Published in association with the Books & Such Literary Agency, Wendy Lawton, Central Valley Office, P.O. Box 1227, Hilmar, CA 95324,
[email protected]

“Rahab’s story is one of the most moving redemption accounts in Scripture.
The Crimson Cord
perfectly captures all the drama of the original, fleshing out the characters with care and thought, and following the biblical account every step of the way. Jill’s thorough research and love for God’s Word are both evident, and her storytelling skills kept me reading late into the night. A beautiful tale, beautifully told!”

—
Liz Curtis Higgs
,
New York Times
bestselling author of
Mine Is the Night

Praise for the Wives of the Patriarchs Series
Rachel

“A faithful portrayal of the story of Jacob and his two wives,
Rachel
will make you feel the agony of two sisters in love with the same man. Jealousy, betrayal, heartache, and deceit cannot prevent the invisible hand of God from leading His people inexorably toward the fulfillment of their destiny. Smith has the knack of making her fiction feel truly authentic to the world of the Bible.”

—Tessa Afshar
, award-winning author of
Harvest
of Gold

Rebekah

“In her second Wives of the Patriarchs book, Smith makes biblical fiction unforgettable and worthy of our attention. This incredible author’s ability to re-create biblical settings and transform dialogue delivers a God-given message that is just as relevant today as it was thousands of years ago.”

—
RT Book Reviews
, 4 stars

“With attention to detail in every aspect of her writing, Jill makes this story sing with love, human frailty, and triumph.
Rebekah
is a powerful story that supports the biblical account and proposes a reasoned and moving story of what could have been.
Rebekah
is biblical storytelling at its finest and is well worth adding to your shelves.”

—
Rel Mollet
, Relz Reviews

Sarai

“The scriptural account of Abraham and Sarah is not only a testament of God’s faithfulness to His promises, it’s a story of love. Smith skillfully captures both, and the essence of living in Old Testament times, by combining biblical facts with research-based interpretation and her own imagination to create a detailed drama that will leave readers eagerly awaiting the second book in the series.”

—
CBA Retailers+Resources

“Smith is at her best in handling the triangulated relationship between Abraham, Sarah, and Hagar . . . Smith breathes new imaginative life into a well-known sacred story.”

—
Publishers Weekly

To M’shiach Adonai, the Lord’s Anointed One, Messiah—my Rock, my Strength, my Redeemer—who redeemed Rahab so we could see a picture of mercy and of grace.
Thank you.

CONTENTS

Cover

Title Page

Copyright Page

Endorsements

Dedication

Part 1

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

Part 2

15

16

17

18

19

20

21

22

Part 3

23

24

25

26

27

28

29

30

31

32

33

34

35

Epilogue

Note from the Author

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Books by Jill Eileen Smith

Back Ads

Back Cover

And Joshua the son of Nun sent two men secretly from Shittim as spies, saying, “Go, view the land, especially Jericho.” And they went and came into the house of a prostitute whose name was Rahab and lodged there . . .

Before the men lay down, she came up to them on the roof and said to the men, “I know that the L
ORD
has given you the land . . . Now then, please swear to me by the L
ORD
that, as I have dealt kindly with you, you also will deal kindly with my father’s house, and . . . that you will save alive my father and mother, my brothers and sisters, and all who belong to them, and deliver our lives from death.”

Joshua 2:1, 8–9, 12–13 ESV

1

J
ERICHO
, 1406 BC

Rahab draped the pale blue scarf over her head and shivered in the predawn chill. Her two sisters, Cala and Adara, took some convincing, but in the end, they had followed her on the short walk to the city’s public gardens in search of the dead carcasses of the female
coccus ilicis
, the crimson worms prized for their deep scarlet dyes.

“You know the king’s servants have probably already stripped the trees bare,” Cala said, resting a protective hand over the growing babe within her. “And Tzadok was not too happy to have me leave him with just a blanket for warmth when I left our bed.”

Gamal never noticed whether Rahab shared their bed anymore. How quickly his ardor had cooled after the war that left him both injured and a national hero for saving the prince’s life. Yet how could a single battle cause so much change?

Shame heated her face, and she quickly ducked her head
lest Cala notice. Surely she had done something to displease him. Surely her childlessness had forced him to seek lovers in the streets and drink in the taverns at night.

Your daughter is very
beautiful, my lord.
The memory of Gamal’s words that day during her fifteenth summer invaded her thoughts. He had accompanied his father to her father’s home to seek her hand in marriage. How tall and proud Gamal had looked, standing like the soldier he was with one hand behind his back, the other resting on his close-cropped dark beard. Dark hair peeked beneath a leather helmet, and a slight smile tipped the corners of a strong, round jaw.

Her heart had beat faster at the sound of his deep yet gentle voice, and though she hid in the shadows in the connecting room, she heard every word of the exchange, the bartering. Gamal’s father had the prescribed bride-price, and Gamal, a soldier in the king’s guard, earned a good living. Rahab would be well cared for in her new home.

How short-lived that promise.

The familiar twinge of envy filled her in one glance at Cala’s protruding middle. In five years of marriage she had not produced a son for Gamal, or even a daughter, though a daughter would not have pleased him. Perhaps she should be searching for mandrakes or performing fertility rites at the temple to procure a child instead of searching for worms that might bring her profit to feed her husband’s gaming habit. A child would remove the sting of her shame and give her someone to love. A child might cause Gamal to look on her with favor again.

“Your thoughts are very far away, my sister,” Cala said, drawing up beside her as they walked along the mud-brick streets now where palm trees lined the boulevard. “I know
that look.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, and they both glanced Adara’s way.

Rahab shook her head. “It is nothing.” Though in truth it was everything. She could not create a child any more than she could find the elusive mandrakes. And she was not about to offer sacrifices or prostitute herself to the temple on the whims of false hope.

“Has Gamal hurt you again?” Cala rested a hand on her arm, forcing Rahab to stop and meet her gaze. Cala knew the truth of his hidden abuse, something Rahab could not tell her mother or father or brothers.

Rahab looked beyond her sister, feeling the sudden touch of the morning breeze like a forgiving kiss. She drew in a slow breath, strangely strengthened. She glanced once more at Adara, then leaned close to Cala. “He is always angry,” she said quickly. “The prince’s edict arrived yesterday afternoon. They want an accounting by week’s end and Gamal is not ready.” She walked on, remembering the panic in his eyes. “Scarlet linens bring a high price in the markets.” She
had
to find a way to repay Gamal’s debt, to earn his respect. She glanced at Cala. “I have to try.”

Rahab looked at Adara, whose young eyes were wide with curiosity. “Have to try what?” Adara asked.