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Authors: Gilbert Morris

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BOOK: Daughter of Deliverance
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Rahab faced him squarely, and her hand went to the pocket in her robe where she carried the knife. “No thank you,” she said sharply. “I've had breakfast already.”

“Always stubborn! Well, go hungry, then. Now go on and get to work.”

Rahab waited until he left, then glanced at the other women. “He never stops, does he?”

“He never will,” the woman named Alma said bitterly. “I wish he'd drop dead.”

“He's too evil to die,” the third woman said. She was the oldest of the three, and gray streaked her hair. “Evil people live forever.”

“No they don't,” Alma said. “It just seems that way.”

Rahab sat down at the loom and began to work. She was paid by the piece, so her hands flew fast and skillfully over the loom. The other workers also came in, and soon there was a steady hum of clicking shuttles, back and forth, back and forth, and the soft voices of the women murmuring to one another. Outside a dog could be heard howling as if in pain, and indeed all the many sounds of the city waking up filtered in.

As the morning slowly passed, Rahab thought about Oman, worrying about him. There was so little one could do for a fever! There were some physicians, but most of them she considered frauds, and besides, who had the money to pay for such care?

At noon she ate the lunch she had brought. Gadiah came in and passed out some fruit to his favorites but offered none to Rahab. As he was talking to one of the younger women, his hand caressing her back, his wife suddenly stuck her head in through the door. She was a fat, greasy woman who hated her husband, knowing well of his dalliances with the women in the shop. “You have a customer if you can leave the women long enough.”

“Who is it?”

“I don't know, but he has money.”

Gadiah straightened up and left the room. He was gone for some time—a relief to all the women—but came back accompanied by an obviously wealthy customer. His robes were made out of pure silk, and as he passed close by, Rahab could smell the scent of an expensive ointment used only by the very wealthy.

“This cloth you see would do very well for the project,” Gadiah was saying. He stopped by Rahab's area and picked up a piece of the work she had finished. The man took it and examined it closely. “Master Shalmanezer, you will not find finer workmanship in all of Jericho.”

“It is very good, very well done.” The man called Shalmanezer nodded. He studied it some more, held it up to the light, and then up to his cheek.

Rahab stole a glance at him. How like a hawk he was with his thin face and beak-like hooked nose. She also noticed his dark complexion and carefully tended fingernails.

“You did this, young woman?”

He was watching her now with his glittering dark eyes. His hair was black and oiled.

“Yes, master, this is my work.”

“You are an excellent weaver.”

“Oh, Rahab is the finest in the city,” Gadiah said eagerly. “I'm very proud to have such a craftsman in my shop.”

“How long have you been a weaver?” Shalmanezer asked Rahab.

“Three years, sir.”

The rich man kept running the cloth through his hands as if to examine it, but his mind was evidently on Rahab. “Are you married, Rahab?”

“Oh no, sir.”

“You have a family?”

“I have my father and two sisters and one small nephew.”

“I see. You are the oldest?”

“No, my sister Romar is older. I live with her and her husband and my father.”

“Your house is far from here?”

“It's on the city wall, master.”

Shalmanezer continued to ask questions, and Gadiah did not interrupt, but he watched anxiously as he always did with wealthy customers.

“Is the work very hard?” Shalmanezer inquired.

It was indeed hard, but with Gadiah standing there, Rahab said carefully, “I grow tired sometimes, but then all work is tiring, I suppose, if you do it long enough.”

“You are right, I know.”

How he would know about work of any kind Rahab couldn't imagine. He looked as if he had never lifted a finger in his life but had only experienced pampered luxury. As he ran the material through his hand, she watched the glittering rings on several of his fingers and noticed a gold chain around his neck with a green stone that reflected the faint light in the workroom.

“I will take this piece and give you this reward for outstanding work.” Shalmanezer pulled a heavy leather purse out of an inner pocket. He opened it and laid two coins down before Rahab.

Her eyes widened, and she gave an involuntary gasp, for it was as much money as she usually earned in a week of hard work. “Oh, you are very kind, sir.”

Shalmanezer fixed his eyes on her while a smile turned the corners of his lips upward. “Workers should be rewarded. I will, perhaps, see you again.” He turned and left the workroom with a fawning Gadiah close behind.

Once they were gone, Alma said, “Well, you made a conquest there. How much is it?”

Picking up the two coins, Rahab stared at them. They appeared to be newly minted, of pure silver. She said, “They're worth at least ten monias.”

“I wish he liked my work,” Alma muttered with a shrug.

Five minutes later the sound of voices ceased, and Gadiah came rushing back in. “Well, this is a good day for me. I think he's very happy with the work.”

“Who is he?” Alma asked.

“A wealthy man.”

“I can see that. Where does he get his money?”

“He has many interests, I understand. I think you owe me half of that money, Rahab.”

“What makes you think that? He gave it to me.”

Ordinarily Gadiah would have argued and shouted, but he had gotten such a fee himself from Shalmanezer that he let it go. “He's going to come back. All of you will have to do your best work. We'll be working for a very rich man now.”

****

After work that evening, Rahab exchanged the silver coins for smaller coins but did not mention her windfall at home. She knew that her father would demand the money if she did. Instead, she bought some healthy food and medicinal herbs for Oman.

On the third day after this event, in the late afternoon, Shalmanezer returned to the weaving room, wearing a gorgeous robe of green and white silk. The turban on his head had a large jewel in the front. He glanced around the room and then walked over to Rahab, smiling. “Well, Rahab, you are busy, I see.”

“Always, sir.”

“And how is your family?”

“Very well. Thank you for asking, master.”

“Your employer tells me that you have a nephew who is ill, a child?”

“Yes. My nephew, Oman. He has some sort of sickness of the lungs.”

“And the boy's father. I understand that he is an invalid.”

“Not so bad as that, but he is frail.”

Once again Shalmanezer inquired about Rahab and her life. “I have a very fine physician,” he said. “Perhaps he could see the boy.”

“Oh, I could never afford such a thing.”

“Well, perhaps I could help. I'll tell you what,” he said. “Why don't you come to my house after you get off from work? We will talk about it. Perhaps we can make an arrangement. I could pay the physician, and you could work out his fee at my house. I always need help there. It's a large establishment.”

“Yes, sir, I will gladly do that.”

“Good. I live in the inner city by the canal. You may ask anyone. It's a large white house with some pink stones set into the outer wall. Very striking. Anyone in that area can tell you where Shalmanezer lives.”

“I…I'll be there as soon as I get off from work.”

“Very good.” He picked up another piece of her work and shook his head. “It's always a mystery to me how anyone can be patient enough to sit and work at a loom.”

“It can be a pleasure, but sometimes it is tiring.”

“Well, I would imagine so. I will see you later.”

Shalmanezer left, and once again Gadiah appeared, a look of satisfaction on his oily face. “The man's made out of money,” he said. “I've got enough orders here to keep us busy for at least a month. I'm probably going to have to hire another weaver or two.”

Rahab did not speak. In her mind she was turning over the possibility of having a real physician see Oman.
If only he could be well, I would be happy,
she thought. She continued to work steadily all afternoon. When it was time to get off, she noticed that a pile of bits she had saved was growing. She would not think of stealing from Gadiah, but these were bits that were usually thrown away. She was clever, however, and had pulled them apart and each evening had taken some home, where she was using them to make a long, strong rope. She had no idea what it would be used for, but it was simple and kept her hands occupied. She took the scraps, stuffed them into her bag, got her fee, and left the weaver's. She turned toward the inner city to find the rich man's home. She managed to get lost more than once, for Jericho was a huge city with soldiers and tradesmen and beggars all jostling one another in the streets.

At last she saw a house that had some pink in the front. It was a magnificent structure built of imported stone, she thought. It glistened in the fading light of day. She stopped a woman who had a large basket on her head and asked, “Please, is that the house of Shalmanezer?”

The woman glanced at her coldly. “Yes,” she said briefly.

“Thank you.”

“I'd stay away from there if I were you.”

The remark took Rahab off guard, but she had no time to ask the woman's reasoning, for the woman turned and walked away in long strides.

Approaching the doorway, she knocked timidly. She had to knock three times, but then the door swung open. A tall woman had opened the door. She wore an expensive blue gown and her eyes were made up in the Egyptian fashion. “What is it, girl? What do you want?”

“A man named Shalmanezer told me to come here. Is this his house?”

“Yes.” The woman hesitated, then shrugged. “Come in.”

As soon as she stepped inside, Rahab was struck by the beauty of the interior. The walls were smooth and glowing with faint colors. The furniture was of richly carved wood, some with marble tops. She smelled the incense and saw the faint rising smoke trails.

“Wait here,” the woman said. “I'll see if Shalmanezer will see you.”

“Yes, mistress.”

The woman disappeared, and Rahab stood filled with apprehension. She had never been in the home of a wealthy person before, and surely this man had money such as she had never even dreamed of.

The woman came back and said crossly, “Come along, girl.”

Rahab followed the woman down a hall that made two turns, and then the woman drew back a curtain. “Go in there,” she said with a nod.

“Thank you.”

Stepping inside, Rahab saw Shalmanezer rising from a couch. He had on a different garment this time. Flowing trousers gathered around his ankles, and his shoes were of soft leather with a jewel on the top of each. His multicolored robe flowed gracefully as he came toward her. “Have a seat. I was just about to have some refreshment. Could I offer you some?”

“No, thank you, sir.” Rahab took her seat and sat tensely watching him.

“Oh, don't be shy,” he said. “Here, try this fruit. It's delicious. I have it imported from quite a distance.”

Rahab took one of the small round grapes, bit into it, and nodded. “It's very good.”

“Eat all you want. They're quite refreshing, especially after a hard day's work.” Shalmanezer seated himself to her right on a couch covered with pillows and ornate coverings. “I expect you're tired after such a long day.”

“I'm fine, sir.”

Shalmanezer shook his head. “You're very young. I would guess you're not much over sixteen.”

“I am seventeen, master.”

“Well, you're a beautiful young woman.” The compliment slid easily from his tongue. “But you know how it is with hard work. That beauty will quickly fly.”

Rahab sat there anxiously, but Shalmanezer gave every appearance of enjoying himself. His eyes remained fixed on her as he urged her to eat more fruit and drink a glass of wine, which was unlike anything she had ever tasted before. “I hope you like that wine.”

“It's…very good.”

“Now, then …” Shalmanezer said as he leaned forward, his hawklike face turned to face her, “you have a nephew that needs to see a physician. I will be most happy to work out something with you.”

“I'm a good cook and I can clean. I'll do anything to help my nephew.”

“I have a better proposal than that. I would like for you to stay at this house.”

“Stay here, sir, as a servant?”

At this Shalmanezer got up smoothly and easily, in an almost animal-like way. He stretched out his hand and laid it on Rahab's cheek, startling her with his touch, but she could not draw back without offending him. He left his hand on her cheek for a moment, then smiled and said, “We'll work out something. In a large house like this there are many things to do. I have a great many interests. I'm interested in you.”

“I will think about it, sir, but I'm just a poor girl. There is little I know how to do. I'm afraid you would not be pleased.”

Shalmanezer grinned. “You'll please me well enough.”

Rahab just nodded, not quite sure of his intentions.

“I'll have the physician visit your nephew,” Shalmanezer went on. “Tell me where you live.” He listened as Rahab described how to get to her house, then nodded. “He'll be there tomorrow. I suggest you come back here after you get off work. We'll see about some way for you to repay me.”

Rahab rose instantly. “Thank you so much, and thank you for the refreshments, sir.” She bowed low before him, then left.

As she stepped outside into the corridor and started down the hall, she saw the woman who had admitted her to the house standing there waiting. “Well, did you have a good meeting?”

BOOK: Daughter of Deliverance
2.15Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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