Keepers of the Covenant (18 page)

“Don’t thank us,” the chief elder said. “Thank God. And your wife.”

“My wife? What do you mean?”

“Devorah came to me and asked if I needed you at the pottery yard,” Asher said. “Then she took the initiative and went to see the elders.”

“She reminded us of all the work you do for our people,” one of the elders continued. “Teaching us, leading us. And she pointed out that God called you and spared you for a reason—and it wasn’t to make pottery.”

“She even said she’d be willing to live with less so you could do God’s work, but you felt responsible to support your family.”

The chief elder turned to face him. “So what do you say, Ezra? Will you accept our offer?”

“This . . . this is such a surprise. But of course! Of course I will.” He reached out to grasp the chief elder’s hand, too stunned to think what to do next.

His wife—
General
Devorah—had gone to battle for him. She had dared to approach the elders on her own to speak for him. The knowledge left him speechless.

Devorah was washing sticky date juice from Michal’s hands when she heard Ezra return home. Ever since she’d gone before the elders, she’d worried about what their reaction would be—and what her husband’s would be when he found out. She finished wiping Michal’s fingers and turned to greet him. The moment she saw his face, she knew something had changed. He must have spoken with the elders. He must have learned what she’d done. He seemed to be searching for words, and as she waited for him to speak, his stillness unnerved her. She prepared to defend herself if he was angry. She would point out all the reasons why she’d done it.

“You went to the elders,” he said quietly.

“I did.”

“You told them they should pay me for the work I do?”

“Not in those exact words. I simply reminded them of all the things you already do for this community and of all the study time you’re missing because you have a family to support and—”

“You told them God spared me for a reason, and they were making me waste the mind God gave me creating pots.”

“That’s . . . yes, that’s the gist of it.” She still couldn’t tell if he was angry or not. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and she could see he was becoming emotional. But was it anger or something else?

“You would do that for me? Speak up like that? A woman, going alone in front of all the elders?”

“Well, the elders hardly scare me since I’m married to the
leader of our entire community, the most brilliant man in Babylon—”

He pulled her into his arms, cutting off her words. “I . . . I don’t know what to say.”

“You’re not angry, then?”

He laughed, a rare and wonderful sound considering all the pressures he faced. He hugged her tighter. “No, I’m not angry. I was shocked at first. But I’m proud of you. I feel blessed to have such a wife.” He pulled back, still holding her, and looked into her eyes. “You did a brave, beautiful thing for me, Devorah. A very loving thing. You’re a wonderful, strong woman—my partner and helpmeet. . . .” His eyes glistened. “My . . . my wife.”

C
ASIPHIA

R
euben finished work at the end of a long week, storing his tools in their proper places, straightening his work area. His mind wasn’t on his labor, though, but on the plans he and his partners had for later tonight. The ship docked at one of Casiphia’s wharves was rumored to carry gold amongst its cargo. “This could be our big chance,” one of his partners had said. “We can all retire after tonight.”

He removed his leather apron and hung it on the hook behind the partition, smiling in anticipation. But he halted, his smile fading when he saw his uncle standing inside the forge talking with his boss. Reuben clenched his jaw and started walking again, his shoulders braced, intending to walk past them without speaking.

His boss stopped him. “Whoa, son. Stay another minute. I have something for you, and I asked your uncle to come here for the occasion. Hold out your hand.”

When Reuben obeyed, his boss dropped four silver coins into his palm. “What’s this for?”

“As of this week, you’re no longer an apprentice, but one of
my workers.” He grinned and slapped Reuben’s back. “Those are your first week’s wages.”

“Congratulations, son,” his uncle said. “I’m told you do fine work.”

Reuben knew he should be happy, but he wasn’t. It would still take years to earn enough to buy back his forge, even with a weekly wage.

“Say something, Reuben,” his uncle urged.

He shook his head, refusing to show gratitude to the men who had stolen his inheritance. If he opened his mouth now, it would be to shout and curse at them.

“Come to evening prayers with me,” Hashabiah said. “It’s only right to thank the Holy One on such an important occasion. And I’d like to honor you with a celebration dinner afterward in my home. Your mother and sisters are invited, too.”

Reuben forced himself to stay calm, just as he did when breaking into one of the many homes he’d robbed. “I don’t want anything from you.”

Hashabiah tilted his head as if talking to a child. “Listen, I can understand why you’re angry with me—even though I acted in your best interests. But don’t cut yourself off from the entire Jewish community. Fellowship is the lifeblood of our people. Besides, now that you’re no longer an apprentice, you’ll want to get married in a few more years. You can’t expect a future father-in-law to agree to a betrothal if you never pray with us, or if you’re not part of us.”

“I don’t care about any of that.” Reuben’s jaw felt so tight he thought the bone might snap. He longed to bolt.

“Come back to prayers, at least.”

“What for? I don’t believe in your God.”

Hashabiah’s friendly façade changed to a concerned frown. “Do you know what the Torah says about a wayward son, Reuben? A son who continually rebels and refuses to repent? He can be expelled from the community at best—stoned to death
at worst. I’m not asking for myself, but for your mother’s sake. The Torah says—”

“Don’t you dare preach to me! What does the Torah say about giving away another man’s inheritance?” Reuben tried to push past them, but Hashabiah stopped him.

“For you father’s sake—”

“Don’t talk about my father! He was a better man than you’ll ever be. You have no right to even speak his name!”

“You’re bringing shame on your household. Your mother has suffered enough. It’s time you settled down and—”

“Why should I settle down? What for? Nothing we do in life matters anyway. It’s all a game of chance. One minute we’re living happily, and the next minute the king issues an edict and our enemies can kill us. Then we die. The end. Don’t tell me what to do. I’m fourteen now—old enough to live my own life.”

He twisted free and ran across the lane to his room, hurrying in case his uncle decided to follow. Reuben grabbed the bag with his Babylonian clothes and left again, walking through back alleys and deserted lanes to the hideout where his gang met. He was early, the first one there, and he sat down to wait for the others. They had become his friends, the men he called Ram, Nib, Bear, and Digger. Reuben didn’t know their real names and didn’t care. The secret life he had with them was worth far more than what his Jewish community could offer. As for a bride, Bear promised to find girls for Reuben when he was ready. And after tonight, he would have much more than four silver coins jingling in his pouch.

His temper had a chance to cool while he waited, and by the time three of the others showed up, Reuben was ready to work. “The ship docked late this afternoon, just as expected,” Ram told them. “The crew didn’t have time to unload the cargo before night fell. Nib is watching it for us right now, and once the sailors go ashore for a night of drinking, we can get to work.”

They left after dark, and Reuben felt a thrill of excitement
as he walked toward the river with the others. They stayed in the shadows, their faces blackened with charcoal. This was the biggest job they had ever attempted—with the biggest payoff.

The boat lay at anchor in the river a hundred yards away, but they didn’t dare approach it directly. And they would have to wait some more. The hardest part of any job they did was waiting, being patient. But it was the most important part. They kept watch until a group of sailors left the vessel, laughing as they went ashore for the evening.

“Are you sure you can swim that far?” Bear asked, cocking his head toward the bobbing ship.

“I’m sure.” Unlike his friends who were built like brick walls, Reuben was slender and wiry. He would swim out and climb up the anchor rope to board the ship and check for guards.

“You remember the signal?” Digger asked. Reuben nodded. His friends were nervous. He was, too. The dock was still deserted, but in the taverns nearby, the sound of carousing grew louder.

“Good luck,” Bear said.

The spring air felt cold as Reuben slipped off his tunic, stripping down to his undergarment and belt, which held his knife in its sheath. He waded into the water. It felt warmer than the air and stank of rotting fish and bilge. He ignored the garbage floating near the riverbank and dove in all at once, quickly swimming toward the ship. A few minutes later he reached the anchor rope and paused to catch his breath, giving his friends time to creep down the pier in the dark and get ready to board at his signal. When he got his breath back, he climbed up the anchor rope, hand over hand, his arms strong from his work in the blacksmith shop. He could smell the pitch used for caulking as he slipped over the rail onto the deck, wet and shivering. He unsheathed his knife, gripping it in his fist.

Except for the sound of boards creaking as the boat swayed on the waves, everything was quiet. No voices. No footsteps.
Reuben quickly searched the deck for guards, then whistled the all-clear signal. His friends came on board like slithering shadows. They crept to the hatch, and Bear led the way below, sword in hand. Reuben followed them down the rope ladder, grateful to be out of the wind even though the stuffy air below deck stank of sweat and tar. Before his eyes had a chance to adjust, he heard a shout, then sounds of a scuffle. More cries and shouts followed, then the clash of swords. He tightened his grip on his knife, wishing he could see. Should he go forward or wait? Reuben wasn’t a coward. He would gladly fight with his friends if he could see what was happening and be sure they wouldn’t attack him by mistake in the dark. He heard a terrible scream, and the next thing he knew, one of his partners appeared out of the gloom and shoved him backward toward the ladder. “Go, boy! Move! Move!”

In his haste, Reuben’s knife accidently slipped from his shivering fingers. He bent to search for it, but Ram kept pushing him. “There’s no time! Get out of here! Now!”

He scrambled up the rope ladder and onto the deck as shouts and footsteps thundered behind him. Reuben ran to the rail and dove from the boat to swim to safety. When he came up for air, he saw his partners in a shaft of moonlight, leaping in behind him. Bear was the last to jump, and it looked as though his tunic and hands were covered with blood. A flood of sailors poured out of the hold, yelling at them to stop, waving their weapons. A whistling sound split the night as an arrow whizzed past Reuben’s head. He dove beneath the surface and swam underwater, paddling as hard as he could, staying down for as long as he could. He surfaced only long enough to draw a breath, then swam some more, until he was far away from the pier and the ship. When he came up again, the sailors still milled around on deck, barking orders, but there was no sign of his partners.

Reuben waded ashore downstream, dripping and cold. The frigid night air made his teeth chatter. He hurried to the hideout
as quickly as he dared, staying out of sight, knowing he would draw suspicion wandering the city streets in his wet underclothes. By the time he reached their hovel, he was shivering so hard he could barely walk. He quickly changed into his Jewish clothes and looked around for fuel, hoping to build a fire. The door opened and Digger stumbled inside, wet and bedraggled.

“What happened on the ship?” Reuben asked.

“A dozen sailors were waiting below deck, guarding the cargo. Too many for the four of us. They jumped out of hiding as if they knew we were coming.”

“Bear had blood all over him when he dove into the water. Is he okay?”

“I don’t know. He stabbed one of the guards. Killed him, I think. He told us to run. I think Nib might be hurt, too. Good thing there wasn’t enough room below decks for the guards to swing their weapons, or it would’ve been much worse for us.”

“I saw Bear jump into the water empty-handed. Did he leave his sword behind?”

“He had to. We were lucky to get out of there with our lives.”

Reuben’s father had made Bear’s sword. It bore his distinctive mark and could be traced to his blacksmith shop. Reuben felt his empty sheath and remembered dropping his knife. It bore Abba’s mark, as well.

Digger had changed out of his wet clothes, preparing to leave again. “Listen, kid, you’d better get out of here.”

“I was going to make a fire to warm up and dry off.”

“No time. We need to disappear for a while.”

Reuben left without a word and went home, stunned by their failure, worried about the aftermath of this disastrous night.

Each day that followed brought more worries as Reuben waited for the Persian authorities to arrive at the shop with the marked sword and dagger. Did the sailors get a good look at Reuben in the dark? Could they identify him as one of the robbers?

Three days later, he was sharpening a plow blade when Uncle Hashabiah entered the forge, carrying a cloth-wrapped bundle. Reuben forced himself to stay calm, fighting the urge to run at the look of grim determination on Hashabiah’s face. He spoke with Reuben’s boss for a moment, then beckoned for Reuben to step outside. Reuben took his time, trying not to look like a guilty man.

“The Persian authorities came to talk with our elders yesterday,” Hashabiah said. “They were asking questions.”

“What about?”

“Among other things, this.” He unwrapped the cloth to reveal Reuben’s dagger. “I know it’s yours, Reuben. I’ve seen you with it. It has your father’s mark on it.”

“Yeah, that’s mine. I lost it a few months ago. Where’d you find it?” He reached for it, but Hashabiah pulled it away.

“I can’t let you have it. The authorities found it at a robbery scene onboard a ship, along with one of your father’s swords—one of four that were stolen from our storeroom. Naturally, the Persians think we were involved in this attempted robbery, men from our Jewish community.”

“Were they involved?” Reuben asked, feigning innocence.

Hashabiah stared at him intently. “This looks very bad for you, Reuben. This is your dagger. The thieves had one of your father’s swords. If you were involved in this robbery I can try to help you, but I need to know the truth.”

Reuben fought to control his emotions so his voice wouldn’t tremble when he spoke. “I don’t know how you ended up with my dagger. And I don’t need any help from you. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“A sailor was murdered that night.”

“Was he Babylonian? Because if so, I don’t care and neither should you.”

“Reuben—”

“I’m done talking now.”

Hashabiah caught his arm to prevent him from leaving. “Can you look me in the eye and swear you weren’t involved?”

Reuben glared at him, face-to-face. “I didn’t rob any ship, and I didn’t kill anyone. Now leave me alone!”

He broke free and returned to the grinding stone to finish sharpening the plow blade, working slowly until his hands stopped trembling. He told himself anger made his hands unsteady, not fear. Nothing would happen to him. They’d never prove he was involved. But he couldn’t risk joining his friends until this blew over—and he would miss them. He hoped Bear and Nib had survived their wounds.

The sailor’s death unnerved him. Reuben had agreed to a robbery but not a murder. How had his life come to this place? If only Bear hadn’t killed a man.