A thrill traveled all the way down to my toes as I slipped a fresh piece of flatbread onto the commander’s overflowing plate. Finally! This was the reason I’d come to Shechem. The reason I’d risked my life in this household. All these weeks of silent subservience had been worth the effort to discover that the potential alliance was with Moab and Edom.

  Although it would be a relief to Malakhi and Othniel that this coalition did not include Egypt, it was no less concerning. Since we’d come into the Land, we’d maintained a fairly peaceable existence alongside the tribes descended from Lot and from Esau, both of whom held territory just to the east of the Jordan River; although there had been tension between us before, especially when they refused to allow our ancestors to cross their lands after the exodus from Egypt. But even so, how could our distant cousins consider allying themselves with King Kushan, who’d ruthlessly invaded their territory just as he had ours?

  “And what have we promised these people if they join us?” asked Ishmid, the most shrewd of Barsoum’s men, in my opinion.

  “We will withdraw our forces from their territories completely,” said Barsoum, his mouth full of lamb.

  “The king is willing to forgo tribute from both Edom and Moab?” asked Ishmid, his next bite of meat paused in midair.

  “For now the Hebrew territories are the greater prize,” said Barsoum. “The fertility in those regions is nothing compared to this one. It is the price he is willing to pay to put down these bothersome rebellions once and for all.”

  The rest of Barsoum’s men seemed to accept this answer easily enough, a few of them agreeing that both Edom and Moab contained more desert than farmland. The land that had been promised to Avraham so long ago had grown exceedingly abundant in the years since our people began tilling the soil and building upon the progress the Canaanites left behind when they fled Yehoshua’s army.

  Yet none of them seemed to notice the temporary nature of his offering, the fleeting words for now tucked smoothly among the rest.

  Kushan may offer the Edomites and Moabites their freedom for a time—since they too had been subjugated when his forces swept down from Aram-Naharim—but it was clear to me that once all the Hebrew territories were back under his control, nothing would be left of such treaties but ash.

  I wished I had a method of getting this information to Malakhi. Yet without Sheth and Hanael’s help, I was at a loss of how to do so. It would have to wait until I could get out of Shechem and carry the information to my brother myself.

  But regardless of the way Liyam had blustered last night over my refusal to leave with him right away, I refused to step foot outside this household until I was armed with the exact plan our three enemies had for halting Othniel’s successes. And that meant staying at least until the delegation arrived. Besides, I didn’t plan to walk out those gates unless Odeleya was with me. Liyam could either stay and help me in that course of action, or he could go back to Shiloh with the message, alone.

  CHAPTER

  SIXTEEN

  Liyam

  “Enter,” I called out at the timid knock on the door, since I had no intention of rising from my place on this soft cushion.

  Even though I’d emerged as the clear winner in my match against Khaled earlier, he’d managed a well-aimed kick to my upper thigh that seemed to have bruised down to the bone and left me with a wicked slash in my shin from his blade. I’d resisted the urge to limp the rest of the day, knowing that any display of weakness might sway Barsoum’s fickle sentiments and strip me of the favored position I’d earned by what I had done to Sheth. The cost of such a gain was too great to waste.

  Tirzah entered the room with hesitant steps, shoulders hunched and eyes downcast as the two guards behind her grinned at me in lascivious encouragement that turned my stomach. But as soon as the door closed behind her, all subservience melted from her countenance. Her spine straightened and her expression hardened as she approached me, transforming her from cowed victim to sleek challenger in only four strides.

  “Put out the lamp and lay down on the bed,” I ordered loudly. Our performance may have fooled the guards last night, but I did not want to take any chances that they’d decided to hang about again.

  Tirzah’s eyes practically sparked with fury at my demand, but her mouth did not argue as she complied with the first part of my request. The room now dark, I heard her shuffle a few paces closer, but no farther.

  “I think you know I have no intention of crawling into that bed with you,” she snapped, her voice barely above a whisper.

  Something about the way she slid so easily between pretense and reality, as well as her refusal to back down, stirred my intrigue, along with a healthy measure of respect.

  “I won’t lay a hand on you,” I said. “I have no desire to harm you.”

  “Tell that to the bruise on my hip from when you shoved me to the floor,” she muttered.

  “That was for Barsoum’s benefit. The man glories in brutality. Believe me, I took no pleasure in hurting you.” I paused, shifting my position on the bed with a stifled groan. “Sit, Tirzah. We need to talk, and at the moment I can’t move.”

  A rustle of fabric followed, and her voice came from closer by. “Are you wounded from the match with Khaled?” she asked.

  “How did you know we’d sparred?”

  “Barsoum made sure everyone knew that Khaled had been bested by you,” she said, with something akin to amusement in her tone.

  I groaned. “Which will only further encourage his animosity, no doubt.”

  “Oh for certain. He looked on the edge of murder when he arrived bruised and battered at the table. So I would say you’ve solidified his hatred of you.”

  “All the more reason that we should leave.”

  “I told you—”

  I cut her off. “I know you want to finish this mission. And I admire your tenacity. But this is too dangerous. Each hour we stay is another opportunity that you or I could be discovered.”

  “As I was saying,” she ground out, “I told you that I need to stay until I have the information I came for. And tonight I came closer to that goal.”

  “What did you learn?”

  A long beat of silence followed. “Tirzah?”

  “Regardless of the things you’ve told me, I still do not know whether to trust you,” she admitted. “Especially after what happened . . .” Her words dropped away.

  “To Sheth,” I supplied, closing my eyes against the images his name dredged up again. I blew out a long, slow breath. “He wanted me to give you a message.”

  Her sandals scuffed the stone floor as she moved a couple of steps closer in the dark. “He did?”

  “Yes. He wanted you to know that the knife was not your fault. That he was careless when he retrieved it.” The poor man had been adamant that I ease Tirzah’s guilt on this matter, and from the little gasp she emitted as I said it, it was obvious he’d been right to do so. I didn’t know what knife he was referring to, but I assumed it had something to do with how he and his friend had been discovered as spies.

  She sniffed, and I wondered if she was crying. Which also made me wonder whether it was not just the loss of a friend she grieved, but perhaps something more. I pressed aside my curiosity on this point, since it made no difference to me whether the two of them had been entwined in some ill-fated love match.

  “I know that I am a stranger to you,” I said. “But my goal in this is to bring you out of Shechem, unharmed. I vowed to Malakhi that I would do everything in my power to do so. And in all honesty, I am fairly certain your father will have my head if I do not.”

  Something that sounded like a choked laugh came from her mouth before being quickly muffled.

  “I thought he was going to strangle your brothers when those messengers arrived from Shechem,” I continued. “And as a father, I wouldn’t have blamed him at all. Your poor mother had to practically tie him down to keep him from rushing in here with his sword drawn. His friend Baz was all for it too.” I shook my head, remembering how the two of them had roared at her brothers that night, and yet how, in the midst of such turmoil, Moriyah had been inexplicably calm and collected as she soothed her husband’s wrath. “I still don’t know what Malakhi was thinking sending you in here,” I muttered.

  All Tirzah’s earlier humor had fled by the time she spoke again. “He was thinking that I would be able to get closer to Barsoum than any man could. That I was plenty capable of making myself invisible as a cook. And that in doing so I could get information here that will help win this war. And I have.” Victory was evident in her tone.

  “And? What is it?”

  She paused again, perhaps weighing whether all the things I’d revealed were reason enough to trust me. I waited, giving her time to add my words together and come to the correct conclusion.

  She huffed out a resigned sigh, and to my surprise I felt the cushion near my feet dip, as if she’d sat down on the bed.

  “There is a joint Moabite and Edomite delegation arriving soon,” she said. “They are planning some sort of three-way offensive to stop Othniel.”

  “Moab and Edom?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Barsoum plans to offer withdrawal from their territories in exchange for their help against us. That is why we cannot leave now. I have to stay long enough to know the exact details of when and where they will attack. If we can avert whatever they are planning, perhaps even prevent this alliance from being successful in the first place, then Othniel will only have one enemy to conquer, instead of three.”

  “Confirmation that they are working together should be plenty for Othniel to determine the next course of action.”

  “If you want to go, then you are welcome to do so. I’ll find my way out in a few days.”

  This woman was beyond frustrating. “I am not leaving you behind, Tirzah.”

  “Then stay. Help me uncover what we need to know,” she said, an edge of desperation in her tone. “I cannot fail in this. Not after what happened to Sheth and Hanael.”

  “You are not responsible for their capture, Tirzah. I’ve told you what he said about the knife.”

  “Perhaps not,” she replied, although I could tell she was unconvinced. “But even more than that, we have to win this fight. Being here among the Arameans has made that even more clear to me. They will not be satisfied with just collecting tribute from us forever. The way Barsoum talks, Kushan means to pay us back for daring to rebel by displacing even more of us than they did eight years ago. If Othniel fails, they will round up thousands, maybe tens of thousands, and take them in chains to Aram-Naharim. If that happens, and if the rampant intermarriage between us and the remaining Canaanites continues, the people of Yahweh might be completely assimilated in a matter of decades. Don’t you see? Our survival as a nation is at stake. And if I can do anything to help prevent that, then I will, even at the cost of my own life.”

  Even whispered in the dark, her vehement declaration caused my pulse to race unexpectedly. I’d heard Othniel speak of these things before we went into battle for Hebron, and I had been inspired by the reminders that our parents and grandparents had fought for this Land, and how Yahweh had preserved our people throughout the wilderness wanderings. But hearing a woman who would never raise a sword in battle so fervently declare her willingness to die for the sake of our people shocked me into silence.

  “Think of your family. Your wife and children,” she said. “Don’t you want them to be free? To live under the Torah in peace and prosper in the Land Yahweh gave us?”

  Pain speared the center of my chest. “I have no family.”

  “But . . . I thought you said that as a father you understood why mine was so angry.”

  I cleared my throat of the fiery lump lodged there. “They are gone.”

  “Oh, Liyam.” She must have heard the bleakness in my flat tone because I felt the slightest pressure of her hand on my knee. “I am so sorry.”

  I did not respond to her useless apologies, and her touch retreated so quickly I questioned whether I’d actually imagined it in the first place.

  Although her refusal to leave would further delay my search for my daughter’s killer, I could not find fault in her passion to help our tribes regain what we’d lost. And perhaps the upheaval surrounding a foreign delegation’s arrival would be the perfect cover for our escape anyhow.

  “We will stay until the delegation arrives,” I conceded. “But as soon as you gather the intelligence we need, we leave without delay. Do we have a bargain?”

  “Thank you,” she breathed. “We have a bargain. Although there is something else . . .”

  I ground my teeth. Infuriating, this woman. “What now?”

  “It is not just you and I who will need to escape when the time comes,” she said. “I have a young friend. A girl named Odeleya. I won’t leave without her either.”

  Exasperated, I scrubbed at my eyes with my fingers, seeing flashes of color from the pressure. “A child?”

  “Yes, she latched on to me when I first arrived. She is alone here and vulnerable. I can’t walk away knowing she’d be at the mercy of these depraved men.”

  “Where is her family?” I asked.

  “They sent her away a few months ago, sold her here to cover their debts. She has no one who cares for her.”

  I heard the plea in Tirzah’s voice when she spoke of this girl, so she must mean a great deal to her. Some neglected part of me squeezed at the way her concern for an orphan softened her sharper edges.

  “I don’t know how we will all get out unscathed, but I will do my best.”

  “Thank you, Liyam,” she said, and the smile in her voice was unmistakable, even with nothing to illuminate it in the darkness. For some reason, I was irrationally frustrated that I could not see it for myself.

  “If we work together,” she continued, “I have every confidence we will succeed. But for now, I am beyond exhausted. Time to go to your pallet.” She pushed against my leg, and I released a sharp hiss. The deep gouge Khaled had inflicted along the length of my shin had only just stopped bleeding but still stung, even though Barsoum’s healer had cleaned and bandaged it with a honey-herb poultice. I tried to roll from the bed, but her hand curved around my ankle, halting my struggle.

  “He really hurt you, didn’t he?”

  Defensive, and unsettled by the feel of her hand on me, I scoffed. “I’ve had worse from tussling with my nephews.”

  Still not releasing my ankle, she chuckled. “Just what my brothers would say. You could be missing a limb and insist you were fine.”

  She was right. I’d never admit to her that even the thought of laying on the frigid ground all night made my hip throb. I twisted to my side, dislodging her hand, determined to endure that vicious pallet without even a hint of complaint.

  “Stay where you are,” she demanded. “This bed is three times the width of the pallet Odeleya and I sleep on.”

  I froze, wishing I could see her expression in the dark. “You can’t actually be suggesting we both—”

  “There’s no reason for you to be in pain all night,” she bit out, and the cushion shifted as she slid farther away, making herself comfortable on the opposite end of the bed. “But just so you know, I never take my belt off.”

  Again, I was begrudgingly amused by her nerve. I sank down onto the cushion again, holding back a groan of relief. “Keep your knives sheathed, woman. I’ve bled enough today.”

  CHAPTER

  SEVENTEEN

  23 Nisan

  I loomed over where Tirzah squatted in front of a bread oven, scraping cold ashes from its belly. I hated that I was here to humiliate her, but I had no time to wait. I’d left the training grounds and come straight to the kitchen courtyard, filthy and drenched in sweat from hours of exercises with the other foreign mercenaries Barsoum had hired over the past couple of weeks.

  Tirzah twisted when she caught sight of my shadow, nearly falling onto her backside in her haste. She was normally so aware of her surroundings that I was surprised I’d caught her off guard.

  “I want you in my quarters,” I ordered. “Now.”

  Since the next meal was hours from now, I’d decided that my plan was worth barging into the courtyard to drag her away. I’d have her back to her duties before Barsoum noticed anything was amiss. What I hadn’t considered was the hostility of the other women who were working beside Tirzah. Their eyes were trained on us, and if the murderous looks I was garnering were arrows, I’d be full of holes. Although I had to make a show of returning their stares with a menacing sneer, I was glad they were furious with me and proud of their audacity, because the things I was pretending to demand of Tirzah were abhorrent.

  Prevented from responding to my command by her supposed inability to understand the language of the Arameans, Tirzah stood, brushed her sooty hands on her overgarment and dropped her chin, fully enrobed in her false persona.

  I grabbed her arm and yanked, and although I only applied enough pressure to make it look real, she cried out as if I’d jerked her limb from its socket. Building on her inventive reaction, I snapped at her to close her mouth or suffer the consequences and strode toward the doorway, a seemingly chastised Tirzah tripping along behind me.

  Near the door a young girl stood off to the side, two empty waterskins dangling from her shoulder and her face ashen. Perhaps this was the girl Tirzah had spoken of, since she seemed particularly stricken by what she feared I’d do to her friend. I scowled at her as we passed, and she cowered, but her eyes sought Tirzah, her lips moving, as if silently pleading with Yahweh for protection.

  Once in the hallway, with the door slammed behind us for good measure, I let my grip slacken but continued tugging Tirzah behind me as I headed in the direction of the guest quarters.

  When I was satisfied no one was around for the moment, I turned a corner and pressed her back against the wall, dropping my head to whisper in her ear. “There’s a messenger being dispatched today with a number of missives from Barsoum. He will be coming this way any moment. If I create a diversion, can you retrieve a couple of them from his satchel?”