To Dwell among Cedars Page 30

  I held my breath and peered slowly around the tree trunk, glad that my brown headscarf would camouflage my hair. The color of my tunic was nearly indistinguishable from the bark, and the brush in this area was thick. I was certain no one would see me here if I held still enough.

  Again, I saw movement down below—a tall body dressed in pure white and striding quickly up the rough path. When he was about twenty paces away, he lifted his chin to survey the trail ahead of him and even though the light was dim, my heart leapt into my throat as I recognized the shape of the handsome face that had become so familiar and dear to me these past few weeks.

  Ronen!

  Relief sluiced through me. Perhaps he too had heard the guard’s shofar calls and was coming to help. I pressed to my feet and opened my mouth to call his name just as four men barreled out of the woods and surrounded him, swords and knives drawn.

  Ronen’s empty hands flew into the air. I’d never once seen him wear a weapon, and it seemed today was no exception. I dropped back down in the brush behind the tree, my body shaking as I watched the men close in on him.

  As far away as they were, I could not hear what they were saying, only that their voices were agitated. Ronen shook his head, and they searched him for weapons, finding nothing. One of the men pressed his knife to the center of Ronen’s chest, barking out an indecipherable command. My trembling hand flew to my mouth to restrain the cry that burned up my throat. Surely they wouldn’t kill him, would they? They looked to be Hebrew, but their clothing resembled that of the Philistines instead. Perhaps these were the very men who had assaulted me in the woods a few days before.

  Two of the men grabbed Ronen’s arms and yanked him forward, driving him up the hill toward me. I sank down farther, holding my breath and willing the gathering darkness to hide me in its embrace.

  In answer to my prayer, they passed by my hiding spot without seeing me, a silent Ronen between them. His features were shadowed, but the resignation on his face was unmistakable. For some inexplicable reason, he did not even seem shocked that he’d been taken captive.

  I had to do something. I could not just watch these strangers march Ronen off into the woods. He was no weak man by any measure, but he was not a warrior; he was a musician and, as a Levite, not even allowed to train with a sword. But I certainly could do nothing to save him. I could run fast and could climb trees like a squirrel, but I could not overpower anyone. I must go get help.

  But even as I considered the distance between myself and the bluff where I knew my father was, I realized the other two men who had surprised Ronen had remained on the trail. Their backs were to me, but there was no possible way for me to get around them undetected unless I backtracked a good distance, forged my own path through the woods in the dark, and then looped back around to the path farther down the slope. And who was to say that there weren’t more of these men, whoever they were, guarding the trail farther down?

  I was trapped. Either I could take my chances in the dark and attempt to find my way down to my father, which might take me three times as long if I got lost, or I could follow the men who took Ronen and perhaps create some sort of distraction. Even if something terrible had happened to cause the alarms to be blown, there were sixteen Levites guarding the area around the Ark, and four stationed at the tent itself. Surely one of them had to already be on his way down to the bluff to retrieve the rest of the guard. I had absolute faith that my father would come.

  In the meantime, I would keep my eyes on Ronen and think of some way to help him. I could not bear to lose anyone else I loved.

  Thirty-Six

  Ronen

  I’d known that Machlon had gathered more supporters for this effort and had not imagined a warm welcome when I came barreling up the mountain looking for my cousin, but I’d not expected to find myself taken captive by men with swords.

  I was only thankful that they’d given me enough time to explain who I was before slaughtering me. And by the menacing expressions on their faces, I’d been moments away from that fate before I invoked Machlon’s name.

  As they silently herded me through the forest, one on either side of me and their weapons at the ready, one thing was very clear. I’d been woefully ignorant to the true scope of my cousin’s plans.

  The men who had greeted me on the trail with threats of impaling me from all sides if I so much as cried out were the very same Levitical musicians from Simeonite territory who had been so vocal during that first gathering with Tuviyah. I had to wonder whether they’d ever planned to join in the ceremonies, or if the event had simply been an excuse to come north and foment division. But I did not fight them, knowing that my best course of action was simply to allow them to take me to Machlon so I could plead with him face-to-face.

  I knew where we were going, but still, the shock of being led into a small clearing, completely encircled by the six enormous cedar trees Eliora had pointed out from the boughs of her oak, was enough to make my breath catch. At least thirty armed men were spread around the perimeter of the clearing beneath the outstretched boughs of the cedars, including Osher, Shelah, and Machlon, who’d not yet noticed me with my captors. A few torches lit the clearing, allowing me to see the large stone platform at the center, upon which stood a small but sturdy tent.

  There was nothing in its appearance that gave a hint as to its priceless contents. It was simply a humble black-and-brown goat-hair shelter, indistinguishable from those the Hebrews had been residing within down in the valley for the past week. But beneath the deceivingly ordinary covering lay the most sacred treasure of my people. And although I’d spent the last few years denying that that box had any real power, I now knew the truth. The Ark of the Covenant was more than a golden vessel that contained a few relics of the past; it was the physical reminder that the Creator of the universe himself had deigned to dwell among his people. He’d chosen to come down and reside between the outstretched wings of the cherubim atop the lid. He’d chosen to fill the Mishkan with the same brilliant shekinah that had led our people all the way from Egypt to Canaan. And he’d chosen to allow the blood of sacrifices to be sprinkled on the mercy seat in order that our sins might be covered by his grace. He’d chosen us and asked us to choose him back.

  All of these truths that I’d learned at my father’s feet flooded my mind as I gaped at the tent opening, where four white-clad priests had emerged, carrying the linen-covered Ark. I could see nothing more of the vessel than the golden poles resting on the shoulders of the kohanim, who obviously had been ritually prepared for that purpose, but there was no mistaking the silhouette of such a revered object.

  The urge to drop to my face and worship was nearly overpowering. I could practically feel the song of adoration weaving itself together at the very core of my being and pressing into my throat with a surge of overwhelming emotion, but before I could give in to the instinct, Machlon was in front of me.

  “Why are you here, Ronen?” he said on a sigh. “You should be down on the ridge with the musicians.” He waved the two men who’d detained me away. They acquiesced, letting go of my arms and sheathing their weapons, but stepping back only a couple of paces.

  I looked at him in astonishment. I’d expected frustration at my intervention, perhaps even anger for my failure to disclose the location of this place, but his tone was more annoyed than aggravated. “I came to tell you that you cannot go through with this.”

  A gleam of amusement came into his eyes. “I think you are a little too late.”

  “No. Listen to me. This is dangerous. We have been wrong about all of this. You need to put the Ark back and leave it alone.”

  Across the clearing, the priests were now carefully descending the stone ramp, their steps slow and measured as they balanced the vessel between them. Abiram had at least recruited men who respected the Ark and treated it with due reverence.

  “That is not happening, and you know it. My father has spent the last year planning every step of this day, and years before hopin
g for just such an opportunity, and there is no abandoning the mission he gave me.”

  “But you don’t understand what you are stirring up. Not only is the Ark supremely dangerous, it is not meant to leave this place.”

  He huffed a laugh. “Says who? You?” Then his brows lowered, his lips going flat. “Or the traitor and his Philistine daughter who has turned your head?”

  “This has nothing at all to do with Eliora,” I said. “And Elazar is not the man your father accuses him of being. He is not arrogant and driven by greed or lust for power. He has simply been tending his sacred duty with integrity and honor and patiently awaiting Yahweh’s direction with regard to the Ark. His only goal has always been to protect the holy vessel until the proper time to remove it from the mountain.”

  “It is the proper time. The Mishkan is rebuilt at Nob. The priests are ready to receive it. And there is nothing you can do to stop what must be done.”

  Osher approached, his features solemn as he glanced between us. “We need to be on our way, Machlon. This is taking far too long. The others are getting restless.”

  “We will wait for our guides,” snapped Machlon. “They will be here at any moment.”

  “Please,” I said, ignoring Osher altogether, “all of this will only end in bloodshed. There is no chance that stealing the Ark will not further aggravate the conflict that is already between us.”

  I gestured back at the Levites who’d snatched me from the trail. “Those men had no problem brandishing swords at me, and I have no doubt they would have killed me had I not identified myself as your cousin. Levites are made to be set apart for holy service, Machlon, not to fight their brethren!”

  “We will do what is necessary to ensure that our priesthood is pure and the Ark is in the right hands. Our nation will never be strong otherwise.” He turned to Osher, telling him to let the others know to prepare for departure at his signal.

  I was running out of time. Whatever sign they were waiting for was imminent, but I had to make him understand, to second-guess everything I myself had been convinced of for so long.

  “Do you think that fomenting hostilities between the tribes is what Yahweh would have for us?” I asked. “We are already at each other’s throats, even among the musicians. It will not take much for those embers of resentment to spark into a civil war, and then no king or priest or shofet will be able to repair the once-strong bonds between the sons of Yaakov.”

  Machlon’s features went hard, all appearance of patience gone. “This is the way it must be. If Elazar and his father had listened to reason eight years ago, this wouldn’t even be an issue. They will be the ones to blame if it does come to war. We have no choice but to take the Ark by force.”

  “Of course you have a choice! What is being done here is not in alignment with the way Yahweh moves among his people. Does our God carry out nefarious plans under cover of night? Does he lie and steal and betray and encourage his people to do so as well?” I knew I was speaking my own guilt aloud, but I had to give Machlon cause to doubt, give him a reason to hesitate.

  “So, you speak for our God now, do you?” said Machlon.

  “No. But Samuel does.”

  “I should have guessed,” he said, visibly exasperated. “I should have guessed that your infatuation with the Philistine would lead to falling in with her so-called father and therefore the Pretender.”

  “He’s not a pretender, Machlon. I’ve heard the proof of his foreknowledge with my own ears.”

  “Stop this! I knew you were wavering from the beginning, which is why I kept the changes in the plans from you. And the moment you ran off to warn Elazar of the fire without telling me the truth, I knew I’d made the right choice.”

  “The beginning?”

  “You’ve never had the stomach to do what is necessary here, Ronen. My father told me months ago that I was foolish to think you did. If you didn’t have the connection to Tuviyah through your father, he never would have included you in the first place.”

  I could do nothing but stare at him in astonishment. “It was all a lie? I was only ever a tool to be used and then discarded?”

  “Of course not. You are my cousin, and I was not lying when I said I would have your back. Why do you think I let you believe that this mission would not be happening until tomorrow night? That I cut you from the plans? I did not want you to get hurt. And if things went badly, you would have been safely down at the ridge, away from all of this. Now you are right back in the middle.”

  “Because I had to stop you!”

  He shook his head. “I told you, there is nothing to stop this now. The Gibeonites have already set fire to the town and will be here any moment to lead us off the mountain. By morning the Ark will be in Nob and within its rightful place inside the Mishkan.”

  All the breath rushed from my lungs. “Fire? Machlon. What have you done?”

  He shrugged. “What was necessary.”

  “Why would destroying Kiryat-Yearim be necessary? What if someone is hurt or killed?”

  “The Gibeonites were only willing to take part in this if we make it possible for them to take back their town. They settled it, after all, hundreds of years ago. It’s not that great of a sacrifice; there are plenty of other Hebrew towns in the valley where the people can flee. And the Gibeonites have sworn by their gods that they will not kill anyone. They’ve set fire to a few unoccupied buildings, merely as a show of force. They’ve even promised to allow the Hebrews to retrieve their belongings before they go.”

  The enormity of all that I had been blind to these past weeks settled on my shoulders like the weight of the entire mountain. I’d been so wrapped up in Eliora and my own doubts and hurts to realize that Machlon was planning not just the theft of the Ark but the overthrow of Kiryat-Yearim.

  “There was no other way, cousin,” he continued. “You failed to bring us the location of the Ark, and Osher and Shelah could not get close enough to determine the correct route to evacuate it. We needed men to show us the way and found some who were also willing to create a big enough diversion during the ceremony that Elazar and the rest of his guards would be preoccupied. We were fortunate Osher and Shelah ran across two Gibeonite boys in the woods one day. Their elders were only too happy to make an agreement benefiting both our sides.”

  I had the awful feeling that I knew exactly which two Gibeonite boys had been at the center of these negotiations: Adnan and Padi, the same ones Natan counted as his only friends.

  “Listen to me, Ronen.” Machlon came close, his hands gripping my shoulders and his eyes full of sincerity. “We are family. The same blood flows in our veins. You’ve been twisted up by Elazar’s lies and that foreign girl’s wiles, but you can redeem yourself now. My father will forgive you. And as I said before, you and I will be hailed as heroes when Eleazar ben Aharon’s line is back in power. I know you want our nation to be united and strong. I know you want your mother and your siblings to come back home to enjoy peace and security.” He gestured toward the linen-covered Ark. “This is how we accomplish that. Do not throw away your family for a woman. Especially a Philistine one.”

  The dilemma he laid out before me was clear. But even if he thought my indecision was about Eliora, it was not. It was the choice between my family and my God. If I turned my back on Abiram and Machlon, I was also ending any hope for my mother’s return. But as I wavered one last time, Samuel’s admonition to disentangle ourselves from false gods arose in my mind. He’d said that choosing truth over comfort was never easy. That it would mean division between clans, between families, between brothers. And suddenly there was no more wavering. All of the doubts I’d entertained, the lies I’d told myself, and the stubborn rebellion that I’d clung to dissolved like ash in the rain.

  “No,” I said. “We may have the same blood, and I may have revered your father to the point of blind obedience, but he is not Yahweh and neither are you. And until the King of the universe gives clear indication that the Ark should be moved, it
must remain on this mountain.”

  I took a deep breath and chose Yahweh over everything. “And I am willing to die to stop you.”

  I grabbed for the sheathed sword of the Simeonite man next to me, who’d been distracted by some sort of commotion across the clearing. I dashed toward the Ark, a foolishly desperate plan forming in my head.

  There were four sanctified kohanim with poles on their shoulders. If one of them was injured and unable to walk, the vessel could not be moved safely. And for as much as Machlon seemed to be taking the danger lightly—he and the other Levites who were coming so close to the Ark—it was clear that Abiram had insisted that the commands regarding the transportation of the holy object be observed, even if he’d always denied that the men at Beth Shemesh had been slain for ignoring them.

  I made it only five steps before I was tackled to the ground and my pilfered weapon stripped from my hand. At least three bodies lay atop me, one man’s hand gripping my hair and smashing my face into the dirt with a curse, while the others jerked my arms painfully behind my back. Before I could come fully to my senses, I was hauled back to standing, blood trickling from my nose and my chin abraded.

  Machlon stood about five paces away, his expression blank as he stared at me wordlessly. Osher approached him again, followed by a few other men I’d never seen before, all red-faced and out of breath. They must have run into the clearing during my futile attempt at attacking a priest.

  “We have a problem,” Osher told my cousin. “The Gibeonites failed. They set fire to the butcher’s shop, but somehow an alert went up before they could do more damage. The two boys who were supposed to lead us down the mountain were caught on their way up here as well.”

  “We need to go—now,” said one of the men. “Before Elazar realizes that something is amiss up here too. He was well occupied when we slipped away, but we can’t take any chances.”

  “Even if he does,” said another, “he is down to ten men and we are thirty. What can he do?”