The Crimson Cord: Rahab's Story (34 page)

He ran a hand through his hair and released a deep sigh. “Rahab, I loathed myself for my attraction to you because of what you were. But I made excuses for my own pride, which was just as despicable in the eyes of our God.”

She did not answer for the space of many breaths. “Even a sacrifice will not wash the memories from my heart.” She looked away, too aware of him and the sudden emotion that brought. She was still a prostitute at heart if men could so easily sway her. Repulsion filled her. “I must go.”

She hurried ahead of him and fairly ran all the way to her tent.

The journey to Mount Ebal took two days, and the building of the altar was a process such as Rahab had never seen. No iron tool like those used in quarries touched the uncut stones that the men of Israel carted up the hill. Rahab stood with the women, her gaze often straying to Salmon as he hefted heavy stones with apparent ease and put them exactly where Joshua indicated.

At last, the altar completed, the priests came forward with bleating lambs and lowing oxen. Rahab stood beside Eliana, transfixed one moment, stricken the next. Every time a lamb’s throat was slit and its blood caught in a bronze basin, she felt the weight of her past, memories she thought long hidden flooding her mind. The blood became each man who knocked on her door, the lambs the babe she had lost.

Her vision blurred as she watched the innocent die for the guilty. Despite Salmon’s attempt at explanation, she still did not grasp how this could free her or make her clean. Even if she spent the rest of her life punished for her sins,
she would not feel clean. Why should a lamb suffer on her account?

She felt a sudden presence beside her and turned to see Salmon looking down at her. “I did not ask this of you, and you do not have to comply.” His hand lightly touched her shoulder. “But Joshua has set aside a lamb for you, Rahab. And if you are willing, I will share in the sacrifice.”

Her breath hitched, but no words would come. Would they force this upon her? But no, he said she did not have to comply with it.

“Do not underestimate the power of our God,” he said softly, bending close. “A God who can topple Jericho’s walls can also offer forgiveness.”

Tears came. Rahab nodded and allowed him to lead her to the altar where the priests stood. Smoke from sacrifices already offered rose in a thick column on the burning wood, scorching the stones.

Salmon left her standing near Joshua and the priests, then walked to a makeshift pen where lambs waited. He moved among them, inspecting each one, until at last he lifted a year-old ewe in his arms, carried it toward Rahab, and set it down in the place of the outpouring of blood.

He placed his hands on the lamb’s head and glanced at Rahab, his expression telling her to follow his lead. The tears flowed freely now as her fingers explored the soft fur of the glistening white lamb.
Take me instead. Don’t make this sweet animal die in my place.

Joshua’s voice interrupted her silent prayer. “Most Holy Adonai, blessed be Your name. We come before You asking for Your great mercy and forgiveness for the sins of this young woman, Rahab, and for the sins of this young man,
Salmon. Fill them with gratitude for Your great kindness to both of them. And when the time is right, bless them both with children to honor You.”

Rahab’s head snapped up after Joshua’s prayer, but she quickly lowered it again as the priest spoke a prayer and blessing over them as well. Why had Joshua included the blessing of children? She was barren and had no desire to wed ever again.

Her fingers rested against the lamb’s woolly neck, and she sensed its terror, felt the beating of its heart. She barely heard the last words of the blessing of the priest, but then, too soon, another priest slit the lamb’s throat. She felt its heart stop in an instant. A sob escaped her. “Oh God, oh God!” She fell to her knees, rocking back and forth, as the priest caught the lamb’s blood and lifted its limp body to place on God’s altar.

Why did You spare me? The lamb did nothing
wrong. It was I, God of Israel. I alone who
sinned against You.
Why did the innocent animal have to take her place when she was fully willing to die instead?

You didn’t always want to die. You risked
your life to save the spies so you could live.

The thought came unbidden, the realization filling her with a sudden, urgent desire to live, to start life anew.

Her tears wet the blood-soaked dirt until she felt Eliana’s touch on her arm. Rahab slowly rose, unable to even look Salmon’s way. Her gaze instead met Joshua’s, whose fatherly kindness told her immediately why he had prayed as he did.

The next day Joshua took a stylus and pushed it against the wet clay to write a copy of the law of Moses on several
large stones in the presence of all, from the smallest child to the oldest man. When the task was finally completed several hours later, Joshua stood and faced the group, took the first stone, and began to read.

Rahab listened, her heart stirring with a new desire to follow each of the laws God had given to Moses.
Help me
to be worthy.

Her mind wandered during some of the blessings and curses, but when Joshua spoke about captive brides, her heart beat double time.

“When you go to war against your enemies and the Lord your God delivers them into your hands and you take captives, if you notice among the captives a beautiful woman and are attracted to her, you may take her as your wife. Bring her into your home and have her shave her head, trim her nails, and put aside the clothes she was wearing when captured. After she has lived in your house and mourned her father and mother for a full month, then you may go to her and be her husband, and she shall be your wife. If you are not pleased with her, let her go wherever she wishes. You must not sell her or treat her as a slave, since you have dishonored her.”

He continued on about a man having two wives, but Rahab’s mind could not get past the previous words.
Shave her head. Trim her
nails.
The exact thing Joshua had told Adara she must do to marry an Israelite, what Rahab would not have to do because she had no intention of marrying again. Besides, she had no firm proof that she was truly free of Gamal. What if he still lived in Syria or somewhere else?

And yet . . . She glanced at her hands. The nails, once clean and decorated in colorful henna patterns, were now broken and scarred from turning the millstone and working long
hours on her baskets. Someday she hoped to make a small living from the trade.

She touched the scarf covering her head and tucked back a wisp of the silky strands from where it had strayed to her forehead. This God made no sense to her. Even though Joshua had assured her she was not a captive, in a sense she was. A captive who bargained her life for the Israelite spies. But why put a captive woman through such humiliation? And then, after the man had taken her, he could send her away if he wasn’t pleased with her? She would never marry!

The words of the law droned on, and Rahab tried to concentrate on the rest. She should be grateful, not angry at such things. But she understood Salmon’s frustration better now.

The sun dipped low in the sky, and Joshua ended his reading for the day. Tomorrow they would finish the book of the law and return home. In the meantime, she must seek out Joshua or Eliana and ask if the law of a captive bride applied to her. For if she was Salmon’s captive because of his promise to her, then she was not truly free. He could cast her out of Israel on a whim. She could not live with that.

The evening meal was simple unleavened bread, herbs, and the fruit of the land. Though it was not Passover, there had been no time to bake normal bread during the lengthy reading of the law. Despite Rahab’s desire to speak with Joshua, she found he had retreated early to his tent to pray. She walked to the tent she shared with Joshua’s wife and daughters and collapsed on a low mat.

“You look as exhausted as I feel,” Eliana said, coming to
sit at Rahab’s side. “I’m sorry we have had no chance to talk, but it would be rude to speak during the reading of the law.”

Rahab nodded. “I understand. Adonai had much to say to your prophet Moses.”

Eliana chuckled. “Yes, and there is more tomorrow.”

Rahab sat cross-legged, facing her new friend. “How does one possibly keep such impossible laws? And why are men allowed to give up their wives if they are displeased with them? What if a wife is displeased with her husband? Is there no recourse?”

Eliana pulled the scarf from her head and picked up an ivory comb and started to work it through her long hair. Rahab lifted a hand toward her. “Let me.”

Eliana smiled and turned her back to allow Rahab to pull the comb through her thick strands. “The law does have protections for women. A man cannot divorce his wife and then decide he wants her back and marry her again. He also cannot falsely accuse her. It is why the bride’s father saves the nuptial sheet, to prove his daughter is a virgin.”

Silence followed her remark, and Eliana turned. “Forgive me. I suppose that would not apply to you.”

“No. And my father is not here to keep such a thing for me in any case.”

Eliana met Rahab’s gaze. “That does not mean you cannot marry. Widows marry all the time.”

“I am not a widow. At least I do not know if I am.”

Eliana swiveled to face her, and Rahab stopped combing. “Perhaps it is time to see if he could be found.”

Rahab shook her head. “It would be impossible to find him or what has happened to him now.” Not that she cared to marry anyway. Perhaps this was exactly what she needed
to keep Salmon and Joshua from pressuring her. Relief filled her at the thought. She would not need to shave her head or do anything else to become some man’s captive bride.

“The fact that he abandoned you might mean you are free to marry,” Eliana said after a lengthy pause. “Joshua should know.” She took the comb from Rahab’s slack fingers and quickly finished the job. “We’d best get some sleep now, though. Joshua will begin the reading again as soon as we break our fast at dawn.”

Rahab simply nodded, her thoughts once again jumbled, as Eliana made her way to her own pallet. The brief relief she had felt disappeared, replaced by a new fear that she might be free to marry after all.

She wasn’t sure what troubled her more—suspecting that Joshua wanted her and Salmon to wed, or knowing Joshua wasn’t likely to let her stay as a widow the rest of her days. Which meant she would have to pretend to love a man all over again. And be humiliated as his captive in the process.