Deborah Calling Read online

  “Ah.” He rubbed the horse’s neck. “The Hebrew tribe of Dan, is it not?”

  She was embarrassed to admit that Hebrew tribesmen could stoop to bloody robbery. “At least we know they weren’t Orran’s soldiers.”

  “There are plenty of other dangerous men to fear.”

  She stood close to Kassite’s horse, looking up at him, her voice low. “Speaking of dangerous men, what’s your plan for freeing Sallan?”

  Sitting back in the saddle, Kassite thought for a long moment. “Knowing Sallan,” he said, “a strategy has already been set in motion, ready for us to pick up and run with.”

  “How can you be so certain?”

  He smiled. “My old friend is a master of the long game.”

  Before she could ask him to elaborate, Kassite urged his horse forward and rode out of the crevice, turning right in the uphill direction. The rest of them followed, and Deborah rode in the rear of the group, pondering the term “long game” and the idea that Sallan had been confident enough in her ability to find the Elixirist and enlist his help that he would set a strategy in motion to prepare for their arrival in Emanuel.

  Chapter 13

  Higher up in the Samariah Hills, they rode by a small village that was still burning under a cloud of smoke. Dead bodies of bearded men, naked women, and slaughtered children lay all around. A pole bore the flag of Benjamin—a gray wolf against a multicolored background—oddly unharmed among the destruction. Deborah wanted to stop and bury the bodies of her fellow Hebrews in accordance with Yahweh’s law, but Kassite kept going, and she knew he was right to do so, considering the risks.

  They arrived at Bethel shortly after sunset and set up camp at the edge of the fairgrounds, which was sparsely occupied by travelers and merchants. There were no walls around Bethel, only heaps of rocks, shallow ditches, and a gateless entrance guarded by a few soldiers and marked with the flag of Benjamin.

  The Edomite men unloaded everything from the horses and fed them. Deborah used her father’s fire-starters to get a small blaze going. Kassite’s servants prepared a meal of warm oatmeal, apples, cheese, and bread, which they sprinkled with olive oil.

  Kassite unwrapped the effigy of Qoz, placed it on a rock, and served it a plate of food. All the men knelt on the ground, facing Qoz, their heads bowed.

  “We thank you, Qoz,” Kassite said, “supreme master of the world, for the food that you deign to share with us, as well as for guarding us on our escape from slavery. May you keep us safe until we reach our home in Edom.”

  The hot drink after the meal was rather bland, lacking the minty bite of the evening drink served in the tannery, but it nevertheless was comforting. Exhausted after two days without sleep, they lay down in their clothes and boots, forming a circle around the horses and the pile of valuable leathers. For the first time since before arriving at the tannery, Deborah had her old blanket for cover and her sack for a pillow. It smelled of the tiger tail stuffed inside, and she fell asleep immediately.

  In the morning, Kassite instructed everyone to clean up as best they could. The men gathered around the well, poured water on each other, and scrubbed their arms and legs. They used a sharp knife to shave their cheeks. While Deborah’s cheeks didn’t need shaving, she was concerned about her hair. It had been more than two months since Kassite chopped it off on her first day at the tannery, and the stubble had grown to about half the length of her pinky. She knew that its color, as orange as freshly peeled carrots, stood out even among the Edomites’ fair complexions. If her helmet fell off, someone in Emanuel could recognize her.

  She approached Antippet, who was the last to use the sharp knife. “I need you to shave my head,” she said.

  He seemed surprised. “We’re not slaves anymore.”

  Deborah hesitated. He was right. Cropped hair, together with sleeveless shirts and bare feet, was a mark of slavery.

  Standing nearby, Patrees heard the exchange and said, “Do what Borah says.”

  “Right.” She pressed her fingers to her head and scratched hard all over. “It’s too itchy.”

  Sitting on a rock, Deborah feigned indifference while Antippet rubbed water into her hair and ran the blade against her scalp. She thought of happier days back at Palm Homestead, when her sister and parents were still alive. Every Friday afternoon, their father brought into the house a large bucket of water and put hot stones from the oven in the water before going outside. Their mother, Raquellah, from whom the girls had inherited the lush orange hair, washed and braided their thick locks the same way she did her own. When they were done, she always called in their father, Harutz, who was unfailingly pleased with the results. Shutting her eyes, Deborah remembered her mother’s quick fingers, gentle yet efficient, tugging and straightening as she interwove the long sheaves of hair.

  The memory was cut short when Antippet’s wet hands patted her scalp, now completely smooth. “It’s finished,” he said.

  She scooped up water and splashed her face, washing the tears away before anyone noticed.

  The men put on their armor and loaded the horses. While they were getting ready, Kassite took the leather hides and bought two additional horses, as well as various copper tools and trinkets, which he had the men wrap up and secure to the horses. Deborah understood why the leathers had to go. News of the mass escape from the tannery near Aphek was bound to spread, and a group of men traveling with two packhorses loaded with fine leather hides might cause suspicion. Copper, on the other hand, was Edom’s best-known commodity.

  While she was adjusting Soosie’s saddle for the ride, Deborah noticed a caravan leaving the fairgrounds and starting south down the road. She saw a few women and a gray-haired man in a multicolored coat. Next to him rode a boy with black hair, a quiver of arrows on his shoulder. She felt her heartbeat suddenly accelerate.

  Zariz!

  Deborah was paralyzed with shock. She had met Zariz and his father’s caravan on the first day of her escape from Emanuel, months earlier, when only Zariz’s mastery with his bow and arrows had saved her from Seesya. And here they were again—on the very day she was returning to Emanuel, having succeeded in her quest for the Elixirist!

  She hopped on her horse and took off, chasing after the caravan, which trotted away at a good pace. Behind her, Patrees yelled something, but she didn’t look back. She had to reach Zariz, to see his face and be warmed by his smile.

  Leaving the fairgrounds, she reached the main road and pulled hard on the reins to direct Soosie, whose rear legs lost traction as they made the turn, barely regaining balance. She prodded the horse forward, shaking the reins, kicking in with her heels.

  As Deborah raced after the caravan, the women heard the pounding of hooves and looked over their shoulders. She passed them at full speed, pulled hard on the reins, and swiveled around to face the caravan, engulfed in a cloud of dust.

  “Zariz!” She waved a hand in front of her face to clear the dust. “It’s me!”

  The lazy breeze slowly cleared the air, revealing their faces. Deborah rubbed her eyes and peered at the boy with the black hair. The face that looked back at her had neither the refined features nor the bright smile she remembered.

  It wasn’t Zariz.

  “What do you want with us?” The gray-haired man had a brown, weathered face, and his voice was tense. “We’re honest merchants.”

  Despite the crushing disappointment, she kept her posture up as she imagined a real soldier would. “I mistook you for an old friend. Go in peace.”

  He bowed his head and urged his horse forward. She moved aside and let them pass.

  At the campsite, the men stood behind Kassite, watching her approach. Some of the people in the fairgrounds looked on curiously.

  She dismounted Soosie and resumed checking on the straps and knots on the packhorses as if nothing had happened.

  Stepping very close to her, Kassite said quietly, “Drawing attention is dangerous. What has gotten into you?”

  “I thought they were the
Moabites who helped me on the way to Shiloh.”

  “It is about a boy, is it not?”

  Deborah’s face flushed with shame. The mere sight of someone resembling Zariz had caused her to cast off all masculine strength and posture, instantly regressing to the foolish girl she had once been.

  “It was a mistake,” she said. “Won’t happen again.”

  The Edomite men mounted their horses. They had all the trappings of well-equipped soldiers accompanying a prosperous merchant, Deborah noticed, but they didn’t carry themselves as soldiers. Slumped posture and evasive eyes marked them as hired laborers or submissive servants, rather than soldiers ready for action.

  Gathering everyone close, Kassite said, “Today we ride to a town called Emanuel, where an old friend needs help regaining his freedom. This is still the land of the Hebrew tribes, and our owner’s soldiers might soon begin to chase us. You must stay together, speak to no one, and do only what I order you to do—nothing more, nothing less.” He pointed at Deborah. “Watch Borah and imitate him: shoulders back, chin up, and eyes gazing straight ahead!”

  Deborah kept a blank expression, but behind it, she rejoiced that Kassite was using her as an example for the men. She hoped he considered her hasty chase after the boy as a minor stumble and not as evidence that she was failing to transform her weak female character into a proactive, even-tempered, adventurous, and logical male character.

  As they prepared to leave, several young women passed by, carrying water jugs on their heads. The Edomite men turned to watch the women. Kassite, who was already on his horse, clapped his hands and beckoned the men to hurry, which they did, eyeing the women one last time.

  With the morning sun rising over their right shoulders, the group took the road north toward Emanuel. Each one had his own horse now, and they rode at a steady pace behind Deborah and Kassite, who looked regal in his long leather coat and white leather hat.

  He turned to her. “Why do you stare at me?”

  “I’m sorry, Master.”

  “Answer my question.”

  “You seem different,” she said, embarrassed. “Like a judge, or a high priest.”

  Kassite laughed. “I am grateful for your flattery.”

  “You’re welcome, Master.” She was tempted to take advantage of this moment of levity to ask about the third dose of the Male Elixir, but held back, knowing that his answer would be the same as when she had asked about the second dose: “When you are ready.”

  He looked at her with a knowing expression, as if he’d guessed what was going through her mind. “Your progress pleases me,” he said.

  Deborah nodded and looked ahead, her heart swelling with joy and relief.

  “Did you notice their lascivious staring?” He gestured with his thumb over his shoulder at the Edomite men riding behind.

  She nodded again.

  “They do not look at you that way.” He chuckled. “They have no idea what you really are, do they?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “My Male Elixir is working exceptionally well, not only due to its potency, but also because you are an excellent customer. You want it to work and are doing what is required.”

  “I have to succeed,” she said. “There’s no other way for me.”

  They rode in silence for a few moments.

  “It’s odd,” she said. “I don’t recall the men staring at the women in the tannery.”

  Kassite gave her an appraising look. “You know man’s nature.”

  “It’s not much different from that of male horses and donkeys.”

  “True, but my tannery would not have functioned peacefully with all the men fired up with lust for the women. Something had to be done about all that masculine libido, yes?”

  They rode in silence for a few more minutes.

  “It’s the evening meal,” she said, making the connection. “You had the cooks put something in the hot drinks every night—the opposite of a love elixir!”

  “It worked, did it not?”

  “Not for One Eye.”

  “Perhaps it was your exceptional allure.” Kassite grinned. “We will never know the answer.”

  “That’s why last night’s drink tasted different.”

  “We are not in the tannery anymore.”

  Glancing over her shoulder at the men, Deborah said, “I would’ve continued to give it to them, at least until we conclude our business in Emanuel. Is it difficult to find the ingredients to make the lust-killing potion?”

  “Every elixir is a complex undertaking, an art, really.” Kassite paused, the way he often did, weighing his words carefully, and continued in his slow manner of delivery. “Would you like to learn how to do it?” He smiled. “It is a man’s job, but you are no longer a woman, are you?”

  Deborah knew he was mocking her again, but she didn’t mind. His ability to mix an elixir that consistently, day in and day out, snuffed out men’s most base urges was irrefutable proof that he was truly the Elixirist, capable of helping her become a man.

  Kassite patted his horse behind the saddle, causing it to speed up. Without prodding, Soosie did the same, breaking into a steady gallop.

  Chapter 14

  At midday, the horses slowed down under the beating sun. As they paced around a curve in the road, Emanuel appeared in the distance. Deborah pulled hard on Soosie’s reins.

  Kassite stopped beside her. “We have to go into town,” he said.

  “Why? We could send one or two of the Edomite men to get Sallan out in secret.”

  “That is not a plan.”

  “What is the plan, then?”

  He gazed at the distant town for a long moment. “To find Sallan and follow his lead. That is my plan.”

  “Let me hide in the hills until you come back.”

  “You are the only one familiar with the place and the judge who rules it. I need you with me, or I might never come out of there alive.”

  “Someone will recognize me.”

  “You look nothing like the girl they remember.”

  She adjusted the helmet, which rubbed against her shaved scalp. “It’s been only a couple of months.”

  “Our time is not measured in days or weeks, but in how much our experiences have changed us. A single day could count for a lifetime, whereas a hundred weeks might feel like time stood still.”

  Deborah couldn’t believe he was philosophizing while she faced mortal danger. “That may be true,” she said. “But under this leather armor, except for stronger muscles and a foul odor, I’m the same.”

  “Hardly the same.” Kassite stared at her, the brim of his hat low over his brow. “Only your glorious eyes could give you away.”

  “My what?”

  He chuckled. “That is the essence of your charm, that you do not realize the effect you have on others.”

  “Only on those with strange taste.”

  “Indeed.” He laughed out loud. “Indeed!”

  “Should I put my eyes in my pocket?”

  “Maybe,” he laughed again. “But seriously, whatever you do, do not look straight at one of your old acquaintances.”

  “That won’t be easy.”

  “Simply keep your eyes squinted and your gaze away from the people who know you best. Do that, and no one will see the old Deborah in the young Edomite soldier named Borah.”

  She nodded, though she didn’t share his confidence.

  “Do you remember what I told you about how easy it is to deceive people?”

  Deborah thickened her voice and imitated his slow, deliberate manner of speaking. “They do not see what is right in front of them when they expect to see something else, as if there were a sieve between their eyes and their mind that filters out what does not fit their expectations and fills in the blanks with what does.”

  “Impressive.” He clapped. “You are an attentive student.”

  “I told you I memorize things that could be useful one day.”

  “Then memorize this prediction:
No one will recognize you unless you reveal yourself.”

  Deborah wasn’t convinced. “I lived there for a year. They know me.”

  Kassite shifted on his horse, thinking. “I have an idea. Tell me, how far is your father’s homestead from here?”

  Surprised by his question, she shrugged. “About two hours by foot. Why?”

  “When facing a fearsome barrier, think of your ultimate destination—the reason for your journey—and your fear will turn to fortitude.”

  His advice was logical, but as much as Deborah tried to conjure the image of Palm Homestead in her mind, her eyes refused to draw away from the sight of Emanuel in the distance, with its walls and gates and the memories of Tamar’s stoning.

  “Can you find your way there while avoiding the town?”

  “Yes,” Deborah said before thinking it through, and immediately wanted to take it back. Her breath quickened at the thought of seeing Palm Homestead again. She pointed at the hills east of the road. “I’d have to go around Emanuel, then head north.”

  “Go fast. We’ll wait here.” Kassite turned his horse and trotted off the road into a crevice, where a small tree provided meager shade. Everyone followed him, dismounted, and gave the horses water. “You two.” He pointed at Antippet and Patrees. “Ride with Borah and do what he says.”

  Deborah rode up a dry streambed, followed by the two men. The afternoon sun was at their backs, giving her a sense of direction. The horses’ shoes tapped the rocks, and the sound filled her ears as if amplified by a hundred. She breathed deeply and recalled how her Moabite friend, Zariz, had taught her to imagine the layout of the land in her mind. She closed her eyes and imagined the road north, passing by Emanuel, continuing for a while, until a ravine appeared on the right, where her father had always made the turn eastward toward their home. If she turned left soon and traveled parallel to the main road, she was bound to intersect with the same ravine and recognize the path she had known from childhood.

  They emerged from the dry stream at the meeting point of two hills, where smaller creeks fed the stream during flash floods. She chose the one to the left, heading northeast, but paused and turned her horse.