The Crimson Cord: Rahab's Story (23 page)

“Dabir, my sweet,” she purred in his ear. “Jericho’s walls are thick and strong, are they not? Have you not told me many a time that no one can breach them?” She stroked a hand along his bare arm, but he stiffened instead of relaxing as he usually did.

“The terror this has evoked in this city . . . The generals cannot even get one man to take up arms and go out to meet them, to cut them down before they can come to attack us or bar us from leaving. We can’t live forever without trade.” He spoke as though he had not heard her.

“Surely we can shoot at them from the walls. Perhaps our men just need time.”

He faced her. “Time for what? Their fears have only grown these past months.”

“But the walls are so thick—”

“Yes, they are. Unless someone who lives along the wall opens their window and allows them entrance.” By his look she could tell he was calculating the possibility of that happening.

“The windows are too high in the walls, my lord. And even if they got through the first set of walls, they would
have to breach the second to get through to the palace. You are quite safe, I am sure.” She stroked his arm again, but he brushed her off.

“I should send men to bar every window.” He took in the room. “Perhaps I should start with yours.” His piercing gaze told her he remembered too well her attempt to escape the city. But she had not used her window. And he could not know, unless he had seen the scarlet cord, that she had helped the spies. What would she do with her family if Dabir continued to visit? Surely he would suspect something.

She shrugged one shoulder and met his gaze. “Perhaps you should.” She felt her heart skip a beat, hoping he wouldn’t notice her discomfort behind her coy smile. “But,” she said, drawing closer to him, “did you come here only to tell me about Israel, or did you want my attention in some
other
way?” She traced a finger along his square jaw and close-cropped beard, then leaned in and kissed him. She wrapped her fingers through his and gently tugged him toward her chambers.

He resisted a moment, his look serious as though he were trying to read her thoughts, until she kissed him again. Then he followed her without a word.

Rahab awoke as the sun reached the midway point in the sky to find Dabir sitting at a table near her window. He normally did not stay the night, but once she got alone with him, she could not make him leave, disappointing several customers. She glanced at the shuttered window, relieved to see that he had not bolted it, nor did she see any sign of the scarlet cord near him. He sat, hands clasped in his lap, but
as she swung her legs to the side of the bed, he came to sit beside her.

“I want you to come to my home. Stay with me until this fear is past.” He touched her cheek. She flinched as though he had slapped her. He dropped his hand, and she glimpsed his uncertainty.

She blinked and yawned, masking her earlier reaction. She rose and pulled a thick robe from a peg along the wall and wrapped it around her. More than a week had passed since the spies had left, promising to return. How long?

She drew in a breath and straightened, forcing herself to walk with graceful strides toward where Dabir now stood in the middle of the room.

“I want you to get your things and come with me now,” he said.

Her pulse raced, though she smoothed her expression to pretend that it didn’t. She touched his chest. “But what of your wife, your children? Surely they would object to my presence.” She caught the slightest doubt flickering in his eyes. Good. Persuading a doubtful man was far easier than a confident one.

He clasped his hand around hers and pulled it to his lips, lightly kissing her fingers. “You would stay in the guest house. The arrangements could continue as they are, but you would be close, where I could keep you safe.”

Imprisoned, not safe.
She met his gaze. The doubt she’d glimpsed had disappeared.

“I won’t accept anything but your compliance, Rahab.” His look held determination, and a sick feeling settled inside of her. She walked from her chamber into her sitting room, closer to Tendaji, who stood at his usual guard post. Her sister
had yet to come to fix her hair for another night’s work, and only the cook could be heard putting food on a tray for her.

“I cannot go with you, Dabir. I would not feel safe if I left my home.” She spoke with her back to him, meeting Tendaji’s hooded gaze across the room. She turned to face Dabir but took a step back. Alarm fused with wrath in his narrowed eyes, and he moved swiftly toward her and gripped her arms in his big hands.

“You cannot? Since when do you tell me you cannot obey me? It wasn’t a request, Rahab. You will pack your things now and come with me until the Israelites are destroyed.” He dragged her back toward her room and shoved her inside. She stumbled and fell to her knees. “Start packing.”

She pushed her hands into the plush rug and slowly rose, glancing once at him. What could she do? The urge to look toward her window came over her, but she resisted. If she could close the door, she would use the rope and drop to the ground and run until she found the Israelites. With their help, she could rescue her family and see Dabir destroyed. But she knew in a heartbeat she could never run fast enough to outwit Dabir.

God of Israel, help
me.
The naturalness of the prayer surprised her.

She glared at Dabir, her own anger fueled by his outright audacity. “Fine. I’ll come.” But she would not stay. She stood, walked to the door, and slammed it in his face, latching the leather hook to bar him easy entrance.

Let him try to follow. Let him try to beat her. She didn’t care.

Silence descended as she waited for the door to burst open and Dabir to come after her. But it was his laughter outside
her chamber that caught her ear. “The prostitute wants her privacy? How very noble of you, Rahab.” A slight pause. “Just make it quick.”

She did not respond. But she went to her chest and stuffed several tunics and robes into a leather sack just the same. She glanced around the room, noting all of the items she used to paint her face and body into something men would want. How was she supposed to fit it all into baskets or sacks without spilling the precious powders and ointments? She needed time and at least one donkey to cart it all across town to Dabir’s palatial home. But any moment now, Dabir would kick the door in and she would have no more excuses.

But even the sure knowledge of his wrath could not motivate her. She slowed her efforts. Let him wait.

The sounds of pacing and muffled curses came to her through the closed door. Moments later, Dabir’s fist beat upon the wood. “You’re taking too long, Rahab. Let’s go!”

A swift grunt and
oof
followed, along with a sickening gush that turned her stomach. Tendaji? Dabir? Or had the Israelites already come and broken their promise?

Surely not.

But a headache assaulted her, and fear nearly crushed her. She dare not look. She must look. Indecision drew battle lines within her as her hand trembled on the latch.

20

T
endaji half lifted, half dragged Dabir’s body through the gate to Rahab’s courtyard. His heart beat double time, and the strength he had thought stripped from him now pumped hard through his veins. How he hated this man. He looked down at the bloody neck where he had quietly slit Dabir’s throat. He would have to clean up the blood on Rahab’s rugs and floors when he returned, but first he had to find a place far from here where Dabir’s body would not easily be found.

He glanced through the second courtyard gate toward the street that ran along the front of Rahab’s home, for once grateful for the Israelite threat. The city’s fears had caused the men and women to huddle indoors. Even the marketplace had grown quieter since the gates had been barred. Though the Israelites still camped on the plains near Gilgal, the kings of the Amorites and Canaanites had lost all courage to face them. No caravans crossed from their kingdoms into Jericho. The city and the surrounding area were as quiet as a tomb.

Tendaji stood a moment, trying to decide his next move.
He startled at the sound of padding feet coming from inside the house. Rahab stood in the arch of the door, visibly shaken.

“Rahab.”

She swallowed as if finding her voice. “You are alive.”

“Yes.” Did she think Dabir had been the one to kill him?

Her smile wobbled, but she nodded vigorously. “You can’t leave him here.”

He looked at her. “I know.”

She glanced at Dabir’s grotesque face, slick with blood, and closed her eyes.

“At first I was going to drag him through the streets to bury him somewhere, but there are no tombs in the city,” he said, trying to distract her thoughts from what must surely seem sickening to her.

“We need to get him outside the city to the caves.”

“We cannot leave the city. The gates are barred.” Did she not know this? But at her nod of acquiescence, he realized she was still trying to process what he had done.

“He was an evil man,” she said, meeting Tendaji’s gaze. “Thank you for protecting me from him.” Though she could not know that his reasons were for far more than her protection.

“We could bury him beneath the stones of the courtyard,” she offered, though she seemed uncertain.

Tendaji shook his head. “He does not deserve any type of proper burial.”

“No, he does not.” Her breathing grew steadier as she held his gaze with no hint of chastisement for his actions.

“I could toss him through your window. We can tell the king or the prince that he jumped to his death in fear of the Israelites.”

She nodded again. “Dabir
was
afraid, as are all the rest of the men of Jericho. It was why he wanted to take me with him to his home. To keep me
safe
.” She spat the word as though it were a curse.

She turned then and walked through the house toward her chambers. Tendaji lifted his burden again and followed her past the bloody rugs in the sitting room, trailing blood all the way to Rahab’s window.

“Open the shutters,” he said, at last dropping his burden to the floor under the window, “and look to see if the guards are near.”

Rahab did as she was told and tilted her head out, looking up to the right and up to the left, then down to the ground. “All clear.”

She turned back and helped him lift Dabir’s dead weight onto the ledge, then quickly took Dabir’s turban and pulled the edges down to cover the wound. Then with one last look into the vacant eyes of the man who had maimed him, Tendaji pushed Dabir over the side and closed the shutters before he could hear the crushing thud of flesh and dirt.

Salmon glanced toward the walled city of Jericho as he trudged up the hill toward the large terebinth tree where Joshua waited. Gibeath Haaraloth, the hill of foreskins, stretched before him, and his hands were still sticky with the blood of circumcision of the men in his tribe. Exhaustion weighted his steps as he approached the tent where Joshua stood. His heartbeat quickened at what awaited him. Joshua looked up as he neared the shade of the tree.

“Ah, my son Salmon. I should have sent others to help
you, considering Judah is our largest tribe.” He extended a hand, and Salmon placed the flint knife in Joshua’s palm. “Step closer into the shade.” He motioned to an area where a small tent had been placed to offer privacy. Salmon obeyed.