The Crimson Cord: Rahab's Story (16 page)

“She’s what?” Dabir stared at the cook he had hired to serve Rahab, a middle-aged woman who had little scruples and loved the coins her spying added to her pockets.

“Gone, my lord.” The woman rubbed her hands together and would not meet his gaze. “The Nubian left with her for market this morning before dawn—”

“Before dawn? No markets open that early.” He massaged the back of his neck, his anger rising.

“Begging pardon, my lord. But some of the bread makers do, to catch the workers as they leave for the king’s fields.” She straightened as though her courage had suddenly risen.

“Rahab never arises before the sun is at its midpoint.” He knew, for he had checked on her more than once and found her still abed. Especially now. Women always slept more when they carried a child.

“Well, she left
this
morning, my lord, with the Nubian. And they had not returned at dusk when the first customers began to call.”

“And you are just telling me this
now
?” He dragged a hand over his beard and stood, towering over her. He should have her beaten.

“Forgive me, my lord. I was not at the house the whole day. After I fixed the noon meal, I left to tend to my own family. When I returned to prepare the prostitute’s evening meal, I found the earlier food untouched and no sign of either of them.” Despite the stiffness of her spine, she twisted the belt at her waist, again refusing to meet his gaze.

Dabir studied her for too long, feeling suddenly weak, though his rage simmered to boiling.

“Go home,” he barked, no longer able to abide her presence. Incompetent fool!

But as she hurried from his chamber, he forced his thoughts away from the woman’s failings to his own. Obviously, he had underestimated both the Nubian and Rahab. He walked to the window, looked over the town square where people still waited for an audience with some high official or another. It had to be the babe that sparked this. Women were ridiculously possessive when it came to their children.

He whirled about and clapped his hands. “Guards!”

The door opened, and two young guards instantly appeared and bowed low.

“It appears the Nubian and my servant Rahab the prostitute
have fled Jericho. You are to find them. Now.” He let the last word register on their startled faces. “If you do not bring them both to me alive by morning, you will be hanged in the marketplace as a warning to all who thwart the will of the king’s advisor.”

“How will we know where they went, my lord?” one dared to ask. Fool.

“How do you think you would find such information? Ask the guards at the gate. Take men with you. If they have left the city, search in all directions a day’s walk from here. If they have not, search every house in Jericho. Leave no stone uncovered.” He paused, assessing them, wondering if any man in Jericho was truly competent. “They may have been disguised. Make sure the guards at the gate have full descriptions of them.”

“Yes, my lord. It will be as you say, my lord.”

He dismissed them without a word and went back to pacing. It would do no good for him to go with them, nor was he up to such a trek. But he could join the guards on the city wall. Perhaps they had seen something and simply failed to report it.

He cursed as he left his chamber, certain that if Jericho ever came under attack, the men of the city would cower like women in their beds. They were all fools, if a Nubian and a woman could so easily deceive them.

13

R
ahab sank to the dirt floor of the burial cave, every limb aching with relief. Dusk had deepened, and Tendaji sat near the front of the cave, keeping watch. The donkey knelt not far from where she sat, and she slowly stretched out on the ground, not even caring that the stone crevices at the back held the bones of her ancestors. Somehow she would probably pay for disrupting such a place, but it was the least likely place Dabir’s men would look for them.

And she had no doubt they would look. By now her presence was surely missed, and Dabir had probably swallowed his tongue sputtering curses at the men and women he employed. She closed her eyes and sent a silent prayer toward the heavens that no one would suffer on her account.

If the moon god heard and answered, she would name her son Yerach after him, devote her life to his service.
Please, I
do not make an idle promise. Let me escape Dabir
and keep this child.

She settled on Tendaji’s cloak and used her own as a
covering, grateful for his kindness once again. Faith had never been easy for her, and even now she prayed on the fringes of doubt. Why should the moon god answer a prostitute? She did not have a single thing to offer in sacrifice except her unborn child.

And that she would not give. A sick feeling washed over her. Child sacrifice was the highest gift one could give the gods. But the whole purpose of her prayer was to save the child, not give him up.

Turmoil churned her stomach. She rolled onto her side and tried to shut out the disturbing thoughts. But sleep would not come.

“Rahab.” Tendaji’s whisper and slight shaking of her shoulder jolted her awake. Was it morning?

“What is it?” Her body ached, and she could barely force herself to sit up.

“Guards roam the hills. We must move farther into the cave.”

Alarm shot through her, and suddenly she had no trouble rising. She sprang to her feet and grabbed Tendaji’s cloak, handing it to him. “Dare we go farther into such a cave?” The dead would surely resent the intrusion.

“We have no choice,” he said, tight-lipped.

She followed his lead without a word, the donkey between them. But the donkey seemed to sense the odor of the more recent dead. The stone Tendaji had rolled from the cave was one that had not sat sealed as long as the others, making it easier to move. But the smell as they wandered deeper into the cave grew putrid. The donkey stopped and brayed.

Rahab stroked its nose. “There, there,” she said softly. “You don’t have to keep going.” She looked at Tendaji. “We can’t. They will hear us if he grows stubborn.” She inclined her head toward the animal, which had taken two steps back and strained at the reins to turn and head toward the entrance.

“We will have to let him go then. Help me grab everything from his back.” Tendaji untied the saddle and tossed it in a corner, and the two of them tucked every provision they could carry into the pockets of their cloaks. Tendaji led the animal to the cave’s entrance where the stone stood slightly ajar and allowed it to run free, slapping its bottom to direct it to leave them. The donkey moved a few paces and stopped, refusing to budge.

Tendaji mumbled under his breath words in his Nubian tongue. Rahab huddled against a wall, shivering. Men’s voices drew nearer. Tendaji left the opening and joined her, taking her hand in his and tugging her again toward the wrapped corpses. “Stubborn animal won’t leave.”

“He will give us away,” she whispered.

“Yes.”

They moved in silence until they had gone as far as they dared. If they got locked in here, they would soon become like the men and women resting on the stone slabs.

Rahab placed a protective hand over the place the babe grew.
Please, Yerach.
But she felt as though her prayers did not move beyond the cave’s walls.

Voices grew louder and closer. They had entered the cave. There was no doubt now.

Rahab stood rigid, hoping the shadows would hide her. If only she had time to unwrap one of the dead bodies and encase herself in the grave clothes.

But as the sound of heavy feet clomped toward them and a torch lit the area not far from where they stood, she knew it was too late. They were caught. Yerach had not heard.

Dabir’s hand connected with her cheek once, twice, bringing swift tears to the surface. “Did you honestly think you could escape without my notice, Rahab?” He glanced at Tendaji, whose hands were tied behind him, on his knees at her side. “And you! Such betrayal is reprehensible.” He spat in Tendaji’s face, then looked at his guards. “Take this man and strip his virility. He wanted to spare the prostitute’s child? He shall remain childless all his days.”

“No! Please, Dabir. Tendaji did nothing but obey me. Please do not punish him.” Rahab’s pleading brought another slap to her cheek. Dabir yanked her up from her kneeling position and motioned to the guards, who grabbed both her arms and carried her through an adjoining door. But not before she caught the shock registering on Tendaji’s face, his dark skin paling.

Two burly guards lifted him with ease, as though the man had lost all strength to fight, as the anteroom door shut in her face. “Tendaji!” She screamed his name over and over, at last dissolving into tears. “He did nothing wrong!” But her angry tirade went unanswered, and the sounds coming from beyond her small prison grew silent.

She wanted to die.

The door swung open moments later, with Dabir filling the archway. He stomped forward, grabbed her bound hands, and dragged her back into his chamber, tossing her onto his plush couch. He towered over her and grabbed a
strip of leather hanging on his wall, a whip that she always thought ornamental, to intimidate those who sat before Dabir’s judgment.

“The Nubian will return to guard you after he has recovered,” Dabir said through gritted teeth. “Fortunately, eunuchs make good guards when the prize is a weak woman.”

The sting of the lash came down on her calves. “Lest you think you can run from me again.”

She could not stifle a cry as he beat her again and again. Rahab’s stomach grew queasy. Was this how he intended to make her lose the child?

“Please, my lord, forgive me.” Her voice cracked on hoarse tears.

He dropped the whip even as he stared down at her. Silence was broken only by his heated breathing. “What am I to do with you, Rahab?” His angry tone now sounded hurt. “I trusted you.” He turned away from her then and walked to the window. She curled into a ball, weeping, her bound hands protecting the babe.

He stalked back to her, straightening to his full height. “I should have known you would run when I insisted you could not keep the child. How can you even want the thing when you don’t know the father? Prostitutes don’t raise children!” He pushed her aside until she fell onto the floor, then sank onto the couch in her place. “Will you say nothing in your defense?”

Every nerve ending hurt from his beating, but she knew she dared not ignore him. He had made his power over her very clear. She looked up briefly, then lowered her eyes in a gesture of respect. “I should not have disobeyed you, my lord. I did not want to hurt anyone.”

“But you did, Rahab. Surely you knew Tendaji could not go unpunished for helping you.”

She closed her eyes, her tears salty on her tongue.

“I have no choice, Rahab. You have left me no choice.” He sounded angry, and yet the wounded tone came through once more. “If you’d wanted a child, you should have told me long ago. Perhaps other arrangements could have been made.”

He sounded so magnanimous, but she had listened too long to his lying tongue. “If other arrangements can be made, then let me carry this child to term. Even if I must give him up, let me give him life.” She couldn’t bear to let them do what she had heard from Cala’s gossip. Temple prostitutes who managed to become pregnant were forced to drink bitter waters to expel the child from them. The ordeal left most to choose any means possible to prevent any further pregnancy.