A Light on the Hill Page 9

  “At least you won’t be turned over to the Blood Avenger to be killed,” said Aviram.

  The term sent a violent shudder through my body. Raviv was now considered the go’el haddam, the closest kin to his dead sons, who had every legal right to avenge them.

  “Let’s stop talking and move faster,” said Aviram. “Shechem is just over the next hill.”

  We heeded his advice and picked up our pace. Aviram’s words pressed me forward as I imagined Raviv nearly upon us and the feel of a cold blade against my throat. Veering to the northwest, we came through a narrow pass and into the deep-shadowed embrace of a valley.

  Shechem lay cradled between two large mountains, Gerizim and Ebal. Avraham, the forefather of my people, took shelter in this very valley and sat beneath its wide oaks. Here, he heard the Voice of the Ancient One declare an unbreakable covenant. And here, the mummified bones of the great Yosef had been buried, after being carried on the shoulders of the Levites all the way from Egypt over forty wandering years.

  Since my father told me of its existence, I’d longed to see the gleaming white covenant stone Yehoshua had erected here nearly three years ago, to commemorate Israel’s past and consecrate its future. Never would I have dreamed I might see it while imprisoned within Shechem.

  The black-silhouetted city of refuge rose before us. The wink of torchlight within its migdol towers beckoned me, stirring a slight flicker of hope within my breast. Only a hundred more paces and I’d be embraced by Shechem’s protective walls.

  Safety, my soul exhaled, even as my side screamed in pain after the unrelenting flight from Shiloh. I chanced a look behind and breathed a little easier—no one pursued us. Perhaps Raviv and Darek were still back at the Mishkan, trying to prevent me from grabbing the horns of the altar.

  Baz swore and dropped the torch in the dirt, rolling it back and forth with his foot until it smothered. Aviram spun and grabbed my arm, the whites of his eyes highlighted by the bright moonlight. “Run!” he said.

  Stunned, I obeyed, the threads of hope I’d gathered in the past few minutes unraveling more and more with every step away from the refuge that had been within reach.

  “What is happening?” I managed to spurt out between panting breaths. “Why are we running?”

  Baz’s voice was right at my back, as if he were shielding me from whatever came from behind. “Raviv beat us to Shechem.” He swore again. “And by the looks of it, he saw us. He’s coming.”

  CHAPTER

  Twelve

  “We have no time. Make a decision.” Baz scanned up and down the narrow road before us, the purple-black night muting his expression, but not the insistence in his voice. “North? Or South?”

  “South. Of course.” With equal adamancy Yuval tugged at my arm, pulling me a few steps back the way we’d come. “Back to Shiloh.”

  “No.” Aviram grabbed Yuval’s tunic, halting both of us. “Raviv will have men stationed near the Mishkan. We go north.” He gestured with his thick-bearded chin. “Now.”

  I followed the move with my eyes, toward the blackness that seemed to swallow up even the faint moonlight scattered upon the pathway. “You said Shechem is the only place I can go.”

  “There’s another refuge city,” said Aviram. “Kedesh.”

  “How far?” Yuval’s grip on my arm did not release and his chest still heaved from our retreat from Shechem.

  “A few days.”

  “Days?” I gasped.

  “Haven’t we run enough?” Baz’s hand went to the hilt of his sword. “We can deal with them. Can’t be more than six or seven.” He gestured toward the other men and then himself. “Two apiece should do for you. I’ll take three.” He choked out a brash laugh.

  “No.” I stepped around Yuval, forcing him to free me. “No one else dies tonight.” I took another look at the long, dark road to the north, refusing to let my eyes wander to the south, toward my home. “But your families . . .”

  Aviram slipped a large arm around my shoulder, pulling me tight against his side. “They are safe. Your father will see to them, I have no doubt.” He pierced me with a look of sincerity.

  “We’d better move, now,” Baz said. “Unless you’d rather let my sword do what it’s made to do.” He grinned, the gesture macabre in the dimness.

  After a glance back toward Shechem and then one last one toward Shiloh, Yuval grabbed my arm again, this time tugging me northward. “Run!” he commanded.

  Muscles screaming and chest aching, I again cursed my foolishness in hiding out in my home for months and emerging only to stroll through the vineyard with Ora. My once–strong body had lost its vigor, and I stumbled time and again. But I gritted my teeth against the instinct to cry out, determined to keep up with these men who had proved their loyalty to my father in the most dire of circumstances—fleeing with his killer of a daughter.

  Zeev’s panicked voice swelled in my mind, calling his brother’s name. Every footfall seemed to pummel the memory deeper. How could I have been so careless? If only I could roll back the moments of this evening, see that oleander among my herbs. Stop the boys before they brought that poison to their lips . . .

  Another fork in the road appeared in front of us. “Which way?” Baz called out as we all skidded to a stop, pebbles and dirt spraying out from beneath our feet. “They’ve got to be gaining on us. Moriyah is flagging.”

  Aviram pointed toward the northern path. “That way leads down to the Jordan Valley. From there we can cross the river and then head north to Kedesh.”

  “And the other?” I panted out.

  “Canaanite territory.”

  “We go that way.” Yuval pointed toward the wider branch.

  Aviram shook his head, adamant. “We must split here.”

  “What?” Baz and I reacted at the same time.

  “They’ll expect us to take the main road and then cross the river. Baz and Yuval will go north, leave an obvious trail, perhaps make it seem as though we are running southeast—”

  “No,” Yuval interrupted. “I will take her. I traveled that road with my Amorite master on trading runs all the way to the sea. Her father entrusted her safety to me.”

  My heart labored hard—from the run, from fear, from indecision.

  “But . . .” My protest faded as Aviram stepped in close to me, placing a large, warm hand on my shoulder, urgent yet fatherly encouragement in his voice. I heard the echo of my own abba in his words. “Yuval will keep you safe, Moriyah. We will meet you in Kedesh.” He clapped a hand to Yuval’s upper arm. “Yahweh guide your steps, my friend.”

  With a curt nod, Aviram headed toward the northern branch of the road. Baz waved over his shoulder with his usual unaffected manner and then followed. They sped away, hopefully leading Raviv and Darek on a fruitless chase. Please, Yahweh, if you hear me at all, don’t let these men or their families suffer on my account.

  “Come,” said Yuval. An undertone of trepidation edged the word. I hadn’t missed the way he’d gazed back toward Shiloh, as if the vineyard he loved were as lost to him as my freedom was to me.

  We picked up our pace again, westward, directly into Canaanite territory and away from the men who had every right to spill my blood.

  With a sigh I plopped onto the ground against a pine tree, grateful that my legs had withstood the torture of walking up and down countless hills all night, and even more so that Yuval had finally found us a place to rest—a small clearing within a thick stand of trees, carpeted with abundant pine needles and fallen leaves. I slumped against the tree at my back, peered up at the small patch of lightening sky overhead, and breathed deep, ignoring the overwhelming stink of decaying vegetation. I winced at the sharp pain in my side that had taken up residence hours ago and the prickle of pine needles against the tender skin on my legs.

  “Stay here,” Yuval said. “I’ll search for water.”

  Alarmed, I straightened. “You’re leaving me?”

  “The trees are so thick in this area, there could
be a stream close by.” He approached, a well-honed knife in his outstretched hand. “I don’t think we are being followed . . . but just in case.”

  I accepted the knife, unsure what I would do with it if someone actually did come upon me. But the moment Yuval pressed through the trees and disappeared, it was all I could think about. Could I defend myself against Raviv? Or perhaps he’d subdue me so quickly I’d have no time to react.

  What would it feel like? To die? To see my lifeblood spilled on the ground? Would it be painful? Slow? Or would blackness simply overcome me?

  The flutter of wings startled me, a bird alighting from a branch nearby. I clutched the knife tighter in my shaking fist. But when no one appeared, I dropped my head and slackened my grip on my weapon.

  I squeezed my eyes shut. Yahweh? Are you even there? Or are you leaving me to my punishment?

  I waited, searching my heart for an answer, a vision, a reprimand. Something. But all I heard was my own labored breathing and the brush of a soft morning wind through the pines.

  It was no use asking for his help. I’d done everything right. I’d done my best to obey his laws, hadn’t complained about what I’d endured. And still he’d abandoned me years ago—if he’d ever cared about me at all.

  He’d allowed me to be marred and made me a burden to my parents and then he’d taken my beautiful mother, made her suffer for months as she wasted to nothing beneath the grief-stricken gaze of my father. And now this . . . The thought sapped what little strength I’d had and I leaned forward, my head in my hands, the handle of my useless knife pressing against my temple.

  The crack of a twig nearby caused me to jerk my head up. I was bleary-eyed from unshed tears and fatigue so Yuval’s figure swam in front of me in the dim light.

  “So he left you then.” A flat voice—not Yuval’s—declared.

  I blinked again, looking up into the face of a man whose sword was drawn, the point of it aimed directly at my throat—the face of a man ready to mete out justice for the death of two children at my hand.

  Paralyzed, I waited for Darek to strike the killing blow.

  CHAPTER

  Thirteen

  I stared up at him, imagining his blade coming at me with swift and terrible speed as the faces of my father, Shimon, my sisters, my mother, and my other loved ones flashed before me. Who would watch over Eitan? was one of the disconnected thoughts that fluttered through my mind.

  I took another breath, possibly my last. Somehow even on the edge of death, the piney smell of the trees around me and the titter of a wren greeting the pink-golden dawn reached my senses. I marveled that such beauty could touch me in my final moments.

  But the sword in Darek’s hands remained still, did not even press forward. As I took one more stolen breath, and then another, I dropped my gaze to the blade. Early sunlight slipped through the leaves to glint against its dangerous, honed edge.

  “Where is that man you are with?” Darek said, keeping the tip of his weapon pointed at me, his brown eyes reflecting the morning light as well.

  “Y . . . Yuval?” I stuttered, confused why he’d bothered to ask and how long he’d been watching us. “Finding water.”

  I chanced a look behind Darek, expecting to see Raviv crashing through the thick undergrowth at any moment to finish what Darek had started. Instead, I saw Yuval, sneaking up behind Darek with his own sword drawn.

  Darek must have seen the surprise in my eyes. He spun, his weapon now aimed at the bigger threat.

  “Leave her alone,” said Yuval, teeth gritted in a surprising display of vehemence. “She’s done nothing wrong.”

  “My two dead nephews beg to differ.” The accusation pierced me through. Pain lashed my insides, and I slipped my arms about my waist, holding back a moan.

  “It was not intentional,” said Yuval with a flickering glance at me. “Whatever happened, Moriyah is innocent.”

  “Wasn’t it? I heard her threaten the two of them with my own ears.”

  The movement at the window. It had been Darek? Shame flushed my blood with heat as I imagined Darek standing outside, listening to me loose my tongue at the boys.

  Yuval directed a sincere look at Darek. “Moriyah has never threatened anyone in her life.”

  But I had. Things will not end well for you. The words, meant to shock them into changing their hurtful ways, could certainly be mistaken for a threat. How could I defend myself against Darek’s witness, even if he did let me live to stand trial?

  After tossing the knife aside, I used the pine tree behind me as leverage and pushed to stand, my legs wobbling with exhaustion and fear. I learned against the bark, not caring that my hands were now covered with tacky pitch. “Please, Darek. Don’t hurt Yuval. No one else should die for my mistake.”

  He stiffened, then turned halfway to glare at me, his sword still outstretched toward Yuval. “You are prepared to suffer the consequences for what you did?”

  “I am.” I squeezed my eyes closed for a moment, lifted my chin, and braced myself for the pain, hoping it would be quick.

  When nothing happened, I opened my eyes. Darek’s accusing glare was on me, intense and dark. Strangely, the smile he’d offered me the night of the festival rose in my mind, contrasting the anger that colored his expression now.

  He swiveled back to Yuval. “I did not come to kill her. She must stand trial for her crime. Justice must be done.”

  I slumped against the tree, my breath releasing in a rush. “Then you will take me back to Shechem?”

  His lips pursed, as if he were annoyed. “No. Raviv left some of the men from his regiment back at the divide in the road, with orders to kill you on sight. And more back at the Mishkan to do the same. Men who are extremely loyal to him. He fully believes you followed the northern route. And I, knowing full well you traveled on this road, told him I would go this way alone, as a precaution, and then meet him near Beit She’an.”

  “How did you know where we were?”

  He shrugged a shoulder. “It’s what I do. Obviously you know, as Raviv and I do, that Kedesh is the only other place you have to go, since it is the only other refuge city prepared to receive manslayers. The eastern cities have yet to be settled by Levites and priests.” His gaze cut to Yuval. “So I will lead you to Kedesh.”

  “But . . .” I stammered, my astonishment echoed in Yuval’s expression. “Why?”

  Darek’s eyes narrowed, but he did not look at me. “To see justice done, lawfully. If she is to die for her crime, then it will be up to the elders to determine.”

  The scene flashed before me: a group of stern-faced men pointing their fingers at me, proclaiming me a murderer and Raviv, allowed to take his vengeance in front of my father, Ora, and Eitan.

  “And what of your brother?” Yuval’s question was undergirded by bald suspicion. “You would go against his wishes?”

  “My brother is mad with grief. Those boys were all . . .” Darek stopped and swallowed hard before continuing. “His sons were all he had.” His voice dipped low. He turned to face me, his eyes narrowed to slits and his expression like granite. “He is determined to avenge them without the bother of a trial.”

  Fresh guilt swept over me like a flood. I’d stolen Raviv’s sons from him, left him with nothing. I deserved the death I had inflicted upon Zeev and Yared.

  “Although I understand, and share in my brother’s grief,” he said, “the law of Mosheh should be respected.”

  “How do we know that you don’t just mean to lead us right to your brother?” Yuval said.

  “You don’t,” said Darek with a grim laugh. “But I am the only one of us who has actually been to Kedesh. I explored that area with the survey team and know exactly how to get there. How did you plan to do so?”

  “I was born in the north, but was enslaved in Shiloh for most of my life. I speak the Canaanite dialect without accent.” He squared his shoulders. “I can find my way.”

  I said nothing about the fact that, after months in Jericho, I
could also converse quite naturally in the tongue that was not so dissimilar from my own.

  Darek lifted a brow. “If that’s true, you could also be leading her somewhere else, trying to escape justice. Perhaps taking her north to your people.”

  Yuval blinked, as if it had never occurred to him to do such a thing, but then a flicker of danger sparked in his eyes, something I’d never seen before. “I plan to take her to Kedesh. And I will do anything—anything—to ensure she gets there unharmed.” His countenance hardened, the threat evident in his posture. “Even if I have to kill you.”

  Darek looked back and forth between the two of us. “I have no interest in spilling this woman’s blood, or yours. I’ve seen enough death and destruction to last two lifetimes. I will lead you to Kedesh before my brother gets there so she can stand trial. You have my word.”

  “Your word.” Yuval scoffed. “We don’t even know you. How would I know your word is good? Especially against your own flesh and blood?”

  “Again, you don’t. But every moment we stand here arguing over this, my brother is moving farther north. If we have any hope of beating him to Kedesh, we must move. Now.”

  Yuval looked to me, indecision written on his face. Yuval was taller than Darek and lean from work in the vineyard, but he’d never fought with a sword. He’d been a slave his whole life, well suited to directing the daily operations and trade of wine. Darek had fought under Yehoshua and Calev for the last five years. One long scar down the length of his arm and the breadth of his battle-hardened shoulders attributed to the many campaigns he’d participated in.

  Perhaps Raviv and his men were nearby, waiting to pounce on us the moment we emerged from the trees, but we had little choice but to hope Darek’s word was his oath.

  With a small nod, Yuval lowered his weapon.

  Darek did the same, but I wondered if he would not swivel around and lash at me at any moment. His words sounded sincere, but there was no way to divine the actual truth. Yuval and I were completely at his mercy.