“Of course,” she whispered back, her large brown eyes looking up at me without a shadow of apprehension. “How did you know about this?”

  “I overheard Barsoum discussing it with Khaled this morning and watched the commander hand over the packet to the messenger. I suspect at least one of them is meant for Kushan. The man is heading out before the noon hour, on horseback. Whatever communication he carries must be urgent, perhaps demanding an answer before the delegation arrives.” I gestured to a door two down from the chamber she and I had been sharing each night. “He came back here to his room to gather his belongings before heading out.”

  She hummed in acknowledgment, looking past my shoulder as if lost in her thoughts.

  I’d watched her these last few days, fascinated by her unique ability to blend into her environment as if she were no more than a wisp of smoke. Barsoum and his men simply looked past her and spoke boldly in front of her, unaware she was keenly cataloging everything they said. For as much as I sympathized with Darek’s fury that she’d been sent here alone, I was also beginning to understand Malakhi’s sure confidence in her abilities.

  She was nearly the complete opposite of how my wife had been. Where Havah had been timid and sensible, Tirzah was bold and spirited, walking the edge of recklessness at times. I’d found contentment with Havah in our arranged marriage; she had been good and kind and a comfort to me, especially after the losses we endured in the Aramean war. But Tirzah intrigued me in a way Havah never had, and watching her weave a cloak of invisibility during her interactions with the Arameans was beyond fascinating.

  I flinched, realizing that I had no business allowing such thoughts to cross my mind. Not only was it traitorous to the memory of Havah, but I was here to fulfill my part of the bargain that would lead to justice for our dead child, not to get wrapped up in thoughts of another woman, no matter how captivating.

  My sudden movement made her eyes snap back to mine with a quizzical lift of her brows. Then her gaze dropped to my chest, as if taking note of my appearance for the first time, and her nose wrinkled. “You smell awful.”

  I glanced down at the sweat and grime that covered my sleeveless tunic from a long morning of sparring. My arms were striped with dirty rivulets, and my torso spattered with blood from one of the Amorites whose nose had had an unfortunate collision with my fist. “I came directly from training. Barsoum has given me command over the most recent mercenary recruits.”

  “You are training men to fight us?”

  “I have no choice—” The sound of a door opening nearby, and then sandals on stone, halted my words.

  Reaching for the back of her neck, I yanked Tirzah close to my body, and without pause she feigned a whimper and shrank back. I dug my fingers into her silken black curls and tugged, forcing her chin upward.

  “Do not pull away from me,” I snarled, as the messenger I’d seen earlier came into the corner of my view. “You would not get far anyhow.”

  I aimed a menacing grin at her and pulled her head even farther back, exposing more of her slender neck. I briefly considered brushing my nose against the enticing length of smooth skin but immediately tossed the instinct aside, thankful she could not divine my thoughts.

  With her eyes stretched wide in the appearance of fear, Tirzah darted a glance at the man who was approaching us in the hallway, and I slowly turned my head, annoyance in the curve of my mouth. The young Aramean’s brows were drawn together as he warily approached. A leather satchel hung from his shoulder, undoubtedly containing the missives I’d seen Barsoum hand to him earlier.

  “What are you looking at?” I challenged.

  “Nothing,” he replied, taking another few steps our way. He meant to slither by, caring nothing for the woman I was supposedly harassing, but I did not mean for him to do so.

  “She’s mine,” I said, flaring my eyes, spittle flying from my lips. “Barsoum gave her to me.”

  He lifted his hands in concession, trying to placate the crazed man glaring at him.

  With a sneer, I placed my palm on Tirzah’s cheek and pushed her backward. She made a show of stumbling and knocking into the wall with a cry.

  “If you think to put your eyes, or your hands, on my prize,” I said, taking two menacing steps toward the messenger while stretching to my full height, “you will regret it.”

  “I have no desire to do so,” the young man stuttered, taking in my wild appearance. “She’s yours. I just need to get by—”

  As soon as he attempted to pass, I reached out and grabbed his tunic, swinging both our bodies around so that Tirzah was in the perfect position to reach inside his pack. Without delay she moved into place.

  I shook him and pressed my face close to his, dropping my voice into a dark whisper. “She. Is. Mine. If you see her in this hallway again, you will turn and walk away.”

  Tirzah already had her hand in the satchel, brows furrowed in concentration.

  “I don’t share my possessions,” I said, narrowing my eyes to slits and moving so close that our noses nearly touched. “Do we understand each other?”

  She lifted her hand from the bag, two wax-sealed missives in her palm. Within two breaths, they were down the front of her tunic. And within another two, she was back in place, cowering against the wall.

  “I don’t want your woman,” the man said, his warbling voice emphasizing his youth. “I am leaving the city—now. She’s all yours. I swear it to you, by all the gods.”

  This was who Barsoum entrusted with his important messages? The boy’s beard hadn’t even fully come in. The high commander was getting more and more careless with every passing day.

  I barked out a laugh, as if the entire exchange had been nothing but a jest. The messenger gaped at my unexpected shift in demeanor. I grinned at him and released his tunic.

  “Good. Then be on your way,” I said, swiping a palm through the air as if ushering him onward.

  Not waiting to see if he’d run off, I stalked over to Tirzah and dug my hand back into her hair, dragging her into a rough embrace.

  “Now,” I said, tugging her even closer, “where were we?”

  “Get off me, you brute,” she said, a deep pinch between her brows and her palms flat against my chest. “He’s already—”

  Before she could get out another word, two fists struck my lower back.

  “Leave her alone!” called a small voice. “Stop hurting her!”

  Stunned by the vehemence in the tone, along with the surprise that it was not the messenger behind me, I whirled around, inadvertently pulling Tirzah with me.

  Before me stood the young girl from the courtyard. She’d seemed so stricken with fear then, so meek, but not anymore. Her mouth was pressed in a tight line, and her light brown eyes sparked fury, even though they were also filled with tears. Her small fists came down on the arm that was still clutching Tirzah.

  “Let. Her. Go!” she commanded, each word punctuated by another futile blow on my forearm. This little thing actually thought to save her friend from me.

  Tirzah struggled out of my hold and plowed toward the girl, her voice a low rasp as she grabbed my attacker’s wrists. “Stop! Odeleya. No more!”

  The girl looked back and forth between her friend and me, profound confusion on her face. “But he—”

  “Hush,” Tirzah demanded. Then, with a glance over her shoulder to ensure that the messenger hadn’t returned, she turned and headed for the door of our room, dragging a bewildered Odeleya behind her.

  I followed the two of them inside and closed the door behind me, then leaned back against it, curious to see how Tirzah would handle this latest obstacle.

  She led Odeleya over to the bed, the one from which I’d been banished the night after my altercation with Khaled. She’d had mercy on my sore bones, but after one reprieve, I’d been forced to sleep on the ground again. However, I didn’t mind, because enduring my hard pallet was much preferable to lying anywhere near the woman whom I found myself thinking about far too often.

  “What were you thinking?” she demanded, even while keeping her voice low. “He’s three times your size!”

  Odeleya glanced over at me, her lashes fluttering as if she’d only just realized this truth. “I . . . he was hurting you. I couldn’t just watch. I wanted to give you a chance to escape.”

  Tirzah stared back at her for a few moments and then gathered her close. “You stupid, brave girl,” she muttered as she squeezed her tightly while Odeleya shuddered in her arms.

  “You have lost enough” came Odeleya’s muffled voice. “I could not bear to think he was taking more.”

  Tirzah sighed and looked past the girl at me, conflict in her eyes. I simply raised my palms in acquiescence; it seemed we had little choice now but to reveal the truth.

  She pulled back and wiped the tears from Odeleya’s face. “I am all right,” she said. “Liyam did not hurt me. He has never hurt me, and he never will.”

  I was shocked at the certainty and trust such a statement inferred, but Odeleya’s face crumpled at this declaration. “But I heard him in the courtyard and with that man, and you were crying out . . .”

  “A pretense,” Tirzah admitted. “It was only a performance to distract the messenger from our true purpose.”

  Odeleya’s mouth opened, but no words came out.

  “If I tell you the truth, will you keep it to yourself? What I have to say is of the utmost secrecy. Not just my life, but yours, his, and perhaps scores of others are at stake.”

  Odeleya’s eyes were as wide as moons. “Of course. I would never do anything to betray you.”

  “I am a widow,” Tirzah said. “But not because my village was raided. My husband died while forcibly conscripted by the Arameans, in retribution for a failed rebellion by others.”

  Although I’d assumed Tirzah was unmarried, I’d not considered how that had come about, nor had I bothered to ask Malakhi before I departed Shiloh. However, the revelation that she had lost her husband in such a way answered a few of my questions about her motives here.

  “I was sent here by my brother,” she continued, “to collect information that could potentially be useful in the fight against the Arameans.”

  “You are a spy?”

  Tirzah’s lips curved into a demure smile. “I am.”

  “And him?” Odeleya gestured to me.

  “Liyam was sent to retrieve me when things did not go according to plan.” The simple explanation was likely to prevent Odeleya from being frightened by the whole truth.

  The girl went quiet for a few long moments. “Those men,” she said. “The ones who were arrested. They were working with you, weren’t they?”

  Although plainly dismayed Odeleya had made the connection so swiftly, Tirzah nodded her head. “But Liyam is here to ensure that I am safe, and also that you are safe. We have a plan to escape in a few days.”

  “I want to help!” declared Odeleya, all apprehension set aside. “What can I do?”

  Tirzah blinked at the girl’s enthusiastic response. “No. You will continue on as you have. Gather water. Run errands for the household. Liyam and I will handle the rest.”

  Odeleya stood, fists on her narrow hips. “I am not a child,” she said, defiance in the set of her small shoulders. “I have been on my own for many months. And of the three of us I am the only one who can move freely between this house and the Hebrew camp without suspicion.”

  Tirzah’s brows shot upward. No doubt she was as shocked as I was by the girl’s insistence. “That would only put you in danger. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you.” She winced, probably thinking of Sheth.

  “Who would suspect me to be carrying messages? In their minds I am nothing but an ignorant child—a girl child, at that,” she scoffed. “They don’t even look at me when I leave the gates, and when I come back inside they barely notice. They’ve never even checked me for weapons like they do every other person who comes into Shechem. How would they know the words I carry in my head?”

  “No,” Tirzah said. “There is too much risk.”

  Odeleya straightened her shoulders, her chin lifting in an uncanny approximation of the brave woman she obviously revered. “I may not be counted as a woman yet, but I want to fight for our people too. I can do this, Tirzah, I know I can. Let me prove it.”

  Tirzah chewed on her lower lip in contemplation, and I wondered if she’d persuaded Malakhi and Eitan to send her here in a similar manner.

  “It is only for a few days,” I said, knowing that, like her brothers had, she would capitulate. Odeleya was right about her usefulness. Neither Tirzah nor I could get a message out of the city without suspicion, but if we could send the girl to someone in the camp, they might be able to get word to Malakhi about why we’d been delayed and that we were close to uncovering the details of the alliance. If anything, it would bring a measure of comfort to Tirzah’s family that she was unharmed. “We can at least make an attempt, determine if she is capable.”

  Tirzah’s lips pressed together in a firm line as she stared incredulously at me. I shrugged, indicating my willingness to try. This young girl had taken me on to protect her friend without any regard for her own safety, doing her best to fend off a man who’d faced thousands in battle and who could crush her delicate throat in one hand. In my opinion, she was nearly as brave as Tirzah.

  Odeleya must have sensed a shift in Tirzah’s resolve as a wide smile began to stretch across her face.

  “All right,” said Tirzah, and Odeleya squeaked in joyous response. “But you must do everything just as Liyam and I tell you, is that understood? There is too much danger for you to deviate even in the slightest.”

  The girl nodded her head and then flung herself into Tirzah’s arms. “I won’t let you down, you’ll see.”

  Resigned, Tirzah kissed the crown of her head, but her expression remained troubled. “I need to get back to the kitchen. And you need to go fetch more water so no one notices you’ve been in here. But before we go, I have an idea for the first message you should carry to the camp.”

  While the two of them discussed her plan, I slumped back against the door and dragged my dirty hands down my face. Malakhi had better have good information for me about the location of Nadina’s killer by the time I made it back to Shiloh, because this bargain was becoming more and more costly by the day.

  CHAPTER

  EIGHTEEN

  Tirzah

  27 Nisan

  My name echoed across the kitchen courtyard, drawing not only my attention but everyone else’s as Odeleya bounded over to me, a smile on her face and a dripping waterskin over her shoulder.

  I paused in my kneading, my hands sticky with dough, and wondered whether I’d made a grave misjudgment in telling the girl the truth. By the time she stopped in front of me, I’d already begun weaving together ideas for getting her out of Shechem before Liyam and me. Surely someone in the camp might have compassion for her, perhaps even be willing to take her to my mother in Shiloh?

  “I visited my uncle!” she said, her grin wide and her affectation of carefree innocence convincing. “He’s so grateful that you’ve been watching over me.”

  I stared up at her, thoughts circling around what she’d said but finding no place to land. An uncle? After what she’d told me about being sent to Shechem alone? Then sudden realization broke through the fog of confusion. She wasn’t speaking of her own relation. She’d made contact with the man I’d sent her to find and was ensuring that the women around us thought we were only speaking of family members.

  “Did you?” I replied, brows high. No one seemed to be paying us much attention, busy as they were with their duties, but I prayed none of the other women knew the true story of her past, aside from Roma, who never set foot inside Shechem.

  Although I’d second-guessed my decision to involve her a hundred times over the last few days, I’d sent Odeleya to search for the Levites we’d encountered on Har Ebal, praying that somehow one of them might be willing to pass on a message to Malakhi. Since I’d armed her with only a general description of their leader, I’d truly not expected her to find him, and certainly not so soon.

  “After the way he tossed you out,” I said, building on her clever ruse, “I wasn’t sure he’d have anything much to say to either of us.”

  “I did too,” she replied with a careless shrug. “But he reconsidered after the things you told him.”

  The beat of my heart stuttered and then raced. Did this mean that the Levites had actually listened to me up on the mountain that night?

  I scrambled for a reply that would continue the thread of our veiled references. “Perhaps he’ll think twice before making such decisions so quickly.”

  “I think he may,” she said, hefting the water onto her shoulder more securely. “In fact, he said that when you chastised him for hoarding all the wood and not sharing with other family members, you were right, and he repented of being so selfish. He said that whatever wood he and his friends gather is being divided among the rest of the family now, so they all can have more heat in this cold weather.”

  Joy began pulsing through my limbs. The message that Odeleya had so brilliantly hidden in plain hearing of the other women was as clear to me as sunlight through a cloud-break. The Levites had been affected by my rash reproof that night, and as a result, they’d been spreading word among the Hebrews that change was in the wind.

  I reined in the shout of triumph that threatened to spill from my lips and kept my features bland. “I am glad to hear that. He was certainly stubborn before.”

  She nodded in agreement. “Oh, and he also said he’ll make sure that your brother gets some fuel for his fire as well.”

  At that, I allowed a smile to meet my lips. “I’m glad to hear it,” I said, wishing I had the freedom to ask more, but thrilled that the Levites had taken my admonition seriously. And Odeleya’s success in retrieving such information, while playing up her youthful exuberance to avoid suspicion, smoothed the rougher edges from my worries over her safety.