Page 13 of On This Foundation


  The conversation over dinner covered a variety of topics, including the Torah. Malkijah’s knowledge of the Law impressed Chana. The entire evening was so enjoyable she couldn’t help comparing it and her charming host to the boring evening she’d recently spent with the ill-mannered governor. The only hint Chana saw that Malkijah’s estate might be less than perfect was in the sadness she saw on the face of one of his servant girls. She was young, perhaps her sister Sarah’s age, with a lithe, graceful figure beneath her shapeless dress. Chana recognized sorrow in the girl’s eyes, grief and depression in the slump of her shoulders. She moved in and out of the dining area with her head lowered, her chin pressed to her chest as she waited on the table. Then Chana noticed something else. Malkijah’s older son, Aaron, followed the girl’s every move, watching her the way a predator eyes his prey. The girl seemed very aware of his gaze, and along with the sadness, Chana also saw fear. Something wasn’t right.

  As the meal neared an end, a servant bent to whisper something in Malkijah’s ear. “I’m sorry,” he said as he rose to his feet. “Will you please excuse me for a moment? I need to attend to this. I’ll be right back.”

  “Of course,” Abba replied, and he continued his conversation with Malkijah’s younger son. Chana rose quietly from the table and followed the pretty servant girl as she left the room with a tray of dishes. “Excuse me,” she called as they neared the kitchen courtyard. “May I have a word with you, please?”

  The girl turned, her fear unmistakable. “Do you mean me?”

  “Yes. What’s your name?”

  “Nava. Did I do something wrong?” The tray of dishes trembled visibly in her hands.

  “No, not at all. Listen, Nava. Perhaps it’s none of my business but you seem very unhappy. Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong.” She stared down at her feet, her reply unconvincing.

  “Are you being mistreated in this household?”

  “No, ma’am. I-I haven’t served at my master’s table for very long, so it’s still new to me . . . I didn’t want to make a mistake in front of his guests.”

  That might explain the girl’s fear, but not her grief. Chana decided to probe deeper. “I’m going to be honest with you, and I hope you’ll respect me for that and be honest with me in return. My father hopes to arrange a marriage between me and your master. Malkijah seems very charming and his home is beautiful and well-run, but sometimes looks can be deceiving. I don’t want to make a mistake and marry into a household that’s unhappy or abusive.”

  “It’s not abusive, miss.” Nava still didn’t look up. Chana waited, wondering if the girl would say more. Her patience was rewarded when Nava finally met her gaze and said, “I’m in love with a man from back home named Dan. We want to be married, but now we have to wait because I was sold as a bondservant to pay my father’s debts.” A tear slipped past her lashes and rolled down her cheek, but she couldn’t brush it away with the heavy tray in her hands. She bent her head to wipe it against her shoulder. “I miss him. And I miss my home and my family.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Chana said. “I heard that some of our people were being enslaved because of the drought, but . . .” She didn’t finish. To see evidence of their poverty in this young girl tore at her heart.

  “It isn’t my master’s fault,” Nava said quickly. “If he hadn’t been kind enough to make me his bondservant, our family would have starved.”

  “You were sold as a servant so they could eat?”

  “Yes. At least now they’ll have enough food until the drought ends.”

  “Sold for how long, Nava?”

  “Six years. Or until Abba’s debts are repaid.” She bit her lip, struggling for control. “But my father owes my master a lot of money, and the crops have all failed, and I don’t see how he will ever pay him back. Abba works so hard, and he loves his land so much—but it doesn’t even belong to him anymore. It’s mortgaged to my master.”

  “How long have you lived here as a bondservant?”

  “A little more than a month.”

  Chana couldn’t imagine being separated from her family for six years, but she did understand the pain Nava felt at not being able to marry the man she loved. “Thank you for your honesty,” she said. Chana was about to return to the table when she remembered the way Aaron had watched the girl, and how frightened she had looked. “Are you afraid of Malkijah’s son Aaron?” she asked.

  Nava hesitated a very long time before finally replying. “Sometimes . . . when Master Aaron watches me . . . yes, I am afraid. I don’t want to marry him. But the Torah says that my master or one of his sons has a right to take me for his wife.”

  “Are you certain the Torah would force you to marry someone you didn’t love?”

  Nava nodded. “I’m certain. Dan already asked the priests about it. But I’d rather be poor and marry Dan than stay here for the rest of my life, even if my master is rich.”

  Chana saw the girl’s dilemma. She longed to help her but didn’t know how. Maybe if she married Malkijah she might be able to intervene, but not now, not tonight. “I can understand why you would be frightened and sad. But so far, no one has harmed you, have they? And your master has been good to you?”

  “My master is firm. And he likes everything a certain way. His way. But he has never been unkind.”

  “That’s good to know. Thank you.” Again, she was about to return to the dining room when Nava spoke, her voice tinged with fear.

  “Miss, wait! Please don’t tell anyone that I complained to you, please! I’m very grateful to my master for helping our family. It isn’t his fault that I’m his bondservant, but . . .”

  “But what, Nava?”

  “I don’t understand why the Almighty One would let this happen. Why doesn’t He answer our prayers and give us rain so Abba’s land can prosper again? None of this would have happened and I wouldn’t be here if God had answered our prayers. And it would be so easy for Him to send rain, wouldn’t it? Doesn’t the Almighty One control the rain? But . . . but I don’t pray to Him anymore. Why bother, since all my prayers go unanswered?”

  In her lowest moments, Chana often felt the same bitterness toward God that Nava did. Yitzhak had been alive when they’d found him. He had lingered for two days, and Chana had prayed and pleaded with God to spare his life. But God hadn’t heard or cared. Yitzhak had died. “I’m so sorry for what you’ve had to go through, Nava. I wish I could promise you that God will answer your prayers and change your situation. But I also know what it’s like when the Almighty One doesn’t seem to hear or care. Thank you for your honesty. And for trusting me enough to confide in me.” Chana started to leave, but Nava stopped her again.

  “Miss, wait. If you do marry my master . . . is there any way you can help me and Dan? Or my father?”

  “I don’t know. Right now I’m not ready to marry anyone, including your master.” But Nava had raised a good question. How much influence would she have in this household, with a man who was firm and liked everything his way? Chana would need to find out.

  “There you are, Chana.” She heard Malkijah’s voice behind her and turned. “We were wondering what happened to you. . . . You aren’t pestering my guest, are you?” he asked Nava.

  “No, my lord.”

  “Then I’m sure you must have work to do. Go.”

  “Yes, my lord.” Nava bowed her head as she scurried into the kitchen carrying the heavy tray.

  “It’s my fault, Malkijah, not hers. I had a question, and I didn’t want to bother you with it.”

  “It’s no bother at all. Ask me anything you’d like.”

  “It’s nothing. . . . Nava was very kind and helpful.” Embarrassment made Chana’s cheeks grow warm. She scrambled to change the subject. “Look, isn’t the moon beautiful?”

  “It is. Come, I want to show you the view from my rooftop.” His hand rested on the small of her back as he guided her up the stone steps and showed her the breathtaking view. Gentle
hills rolled away in all directions, and Chana could see the narrow ribbon of road they had traveled on from Jerusalem, winding between the hills. The silver-gray leaves of Malkijah’s olive trees rustled softly in the breeze below them. It was the first time Chana had been completely alone with him, and his charisma was undeniable. He seemed to be pulling her toward himself like a fisherman hauling in his catch; she didn’t know why she instinctively struggled to free herself from his net.

  “It’s magnificent up here, Malkijah. Thank you so much for such an enjoyable evening. You have a beautiful home, and everything is so well run.”

  “But . . . ?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I still hear a note of hesitation in your voice. You don’t seem convinced that you would be happy here with me.” She didn’t reply as her heart pounded harder. “I sense you holding back, Chana. Is it something I’ve said or done?”

  “No, you’ve been wonderful and charming and generous and—”

  “Am I wasting my time by pursuing our relationship?”

  She couldn’t look at him. “I honestly don’t know.”

  “Tell me what my next step should be?”

  She searched her heart for a reply before looking up at him. “You told me that you wanted to marry again because you didn’t think you would ever find happiness unless you did. But to tell you the truth, I’m afraid to let myself fall in love again. I’m afraid I’ll be opening my heart to all the pain and sorrow I felt when Yitzhak died. I don’t think I could endure that again.”

  He covered her hand with his as it rested on the wall. “But wasn’t there joy, too? Didn’t Yitzhak bring you happiness?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “When you close the door against pain, you’re cutting yourself off from the possibility of joy, too.”

  “I suppose that’s true.”

  “Tell me, Chana, are you happy?”

  She remembered how she had recognized the servant girl’s sadness because it was so much like her own. “No . . . I’m not really happy.”

  “Would you like to be?”

  Yes. She was so tired of the blanket of grief that pressed down on her, smothering her, making her temper short and stealing her joy day after day, draining her tears. Yes. She would like very much to be happy again. But she didn’t think it was possible without Yitzhak.

  “Believe me, I understand why you’re afraid to love again,” Malkijah continued. “But would you be willing to settle for contentment? For companionship? I believe we could find both of those things with each other because our stories are so similar. We understand each other’s loss in a way that few other people can. And we both understand that our loved ones will always own a huge part of our heart.”

  She wanted to ask if he also felt bewildered and abandoned, resentful toward the Almighty One for taking the person he loved—but she didn’t. He was waiting for her reply. “Yes,” she finally said. “Yes, I believe I could find contentment here with you.” It was the truth.

  Malkijah smiled. “And what would the next step be? For you and me?”

  Chana felt a rising panic as he drew his net toward the shore, even if Malkijah did show enormous kindness and understanding. “Maybe we should spend a little more time together to get to know each other.”

  He lifted her hand and placed it between both of his, giving it a gentle squeeze before releasing it again. “Good. I will be patient, and give you a little more time.” He smiled his crooked smile and led her down the stairs and into the house.

  Chapter

  15

  THE DISTRICT OF BETH HAKKEREM

  The noise of a commotion jolted Nava awake. Running footsteps. Voices. Was someone shouting her name? She listened in the darkness, her heart racing.

  “Nava! Nava, help me!”

  It sounded like Dan’s voice. She sat up and looked around, wondering if she’d been dreaming. But Rachel and some of the other women were also awake. One of them got up and lit a lamp.

  “Nava, where are you?” the distant voice shouted.

  It was Dan!

  Nava leaped up from her pallet in a panic and struggled into her clothes. The steamy summer night made it difficult to get dressed, and her tunic became hopelessly twisted as fear pounded through her. Several minutes passed before she could get straightened out, and she ran outside in her bare feet, unwilling to waste more time. The shouts came from the center of the compound, near the kitchen. Other servants had awakened, too, and hurried there with her. Someone had lit a torch. And there was Dan in the middle of her master’s courtyard, shouting and struggling to free himself as two burly men gripped his arms, trying to drag him away.

  “Dan! I’m here!” Nava shouted. She tried to weave between the gathering spectators, desperate to reach him. But someone grabbed her from behind, yanking her to a stop, holding her back.

  “Stay here, girlie. Stay out of it.” Shimon, her friend from the goat pen.

  “Let me go! That’s Dan! They’re hurting him!” But he wouldn’t release her, in spite of her pleas. “I have to help him, Shimon. Please!”

  “Stay here and wait for our master. He’ll straighten this out.”

  At last Malkijah arrived, still fastening his robe, his sandals untied and flapping as he walked. Nava had never seen him look so angry. “What’s all this noise? What’s going on? You’re disturbing my guests.”

  “We caught a thief breaking into your estate, my lord.”

  “I’m not a thief! I told you I was just—” Dan cried out in pain as one of the men holding him twisted his arm, cutting off his words.

  “The evidence says otherwise, my lord. He scaled the wall to get inside, and we caught him sneaking around your compound.”

  “I came to see Nava. She’ll tell you I’m not a thief. She knows me.”

  “Who’s Nava? Who is he talking about?” Malkijah asked. Nava started to reply but Shimon cupped his calloused hand over her mouth, muffling her words.

  “Hush, girlie!” She struggled against him but couldn’t break free. Master Aaron had also awakened and stood outside with everyone else. He pointed to Nava from across the courtyard.

  “That’s Nava. She’s your serving girl, Father.” Everyone turned to her as Shimon finally took his hand off her mouth.

  “Dan is my friend, from home,” she said. “I’ve known him all my life, and he isn’t a thief.”

  “Maybe they’re working together, my lord,” one of the men holding Dan said. “Maybe she’s giving him information from the inside.”

  “I haven’t stolen anything and neither has Nava,” Dan shouted. Again, the man twisted Dan’s arm behind his back. Dan grimaced in pain, speaking through gritted teeth, “I just came to see if Nava was all right.”

  “Please, tell them, Rachel,” Nava begged. Her friend from the kitchen stood beside her. “Tell them I was asleep right next to you. We woke up at the same time, remember? I’m not a thief.” But Rachel shrank back, too terrified to say a word. Would no one speak up to defend her and Dan?

  “You had no right to climb over my wall,” Malkijah said. “Or sneak around my home in the dark. You’re trespassing.”

  “I was trying to find Nava so I could talk to her. I didn’t know there would be a wall or that the entrance would be locked. I work with my father on our land all day, so I couldn’t get here until after dark. It took longer than I expected, and everyone was asleep.”

  Nava thought of the danger Dan had faced in order to see her, walking all the way from home at night, and she loved him more than she’d ever thought possible. Suddenly one of the spectators standing off to the side moved into the circle of torchlight. Nava recognized the woman she’d talked to earlier tonight, the one who said she might marry the master. “Malkijah, wait,” she said. “May I say something?”

  Nava felt sick. What if the woman told her master how unhappy she was?

  “Of course, Chana,” Malkijah said. “I’m so sorry about all this unpleasantness. And I’m sor
ry we woke you up. This must be frightening for you after what happened to your fiancé.”

  “I wasn’t frightened,” she said with a wave of dismissal. “Listen, I spoke with Nava earlier tonight, and she told me she had a boyfriend back home, so I know that much is true. Maybe he really was coming to see her.”

  Aaron got his father’s attention before he could reply. “Didn’t you say you noticed that some wine was missing the other day, Father?”

  “Dan didn’t take it!” Nava tried to shout. “You know who—!” Shimon pressed his hand over her mouth again.

  “Be quiet,” he growled. “You’ll be in much worse trouble if you go accusing Master Aaron.”

  Again, the woman named Chana spoke. “It seems to me it would be easy to prove the truth of this young man’s claims. Did the guards find any stolen wine on him when they caught him? Or any with Nava, for that matter?”

  “Well, did you?” Malkijah asked the men who were holding Dan’s arms.

  “No, my lord. We didn’t find anything.”

  “Go search the girl’s things,” Malkijah ordered. He turned to Chana as two of his servants hurried off, and his voice sounded gentle as he spoke to her. “Some wine has disappeared from my storeroom. I was afraid it might be the work of thieves, so I asked my guards to be especially alert.”

  “We have a right to protect our property,” Aaron said. He glared at Dan with his chin raised, his arms folded across his chest. Nava had feared Aaron before tonight, but at this moment she hated him.

  “What if he’s telling the truth?” Chana asked. “What if he isn’t a thief?”

  “He still had no right to break into our home,” Aaron said before his father could reply. “He should be punished for trespassing.”

  “I just wanted to see Nava. That’s the truth, and I’ll swear to it!” Dan said. Nava could tell by the way he breathed that he was in pain. The men were hurting him.

  “Can you blame a young man for wanting to see the girl he loves, Malkijah?” Chana asked. “I hope you’ll show him mercy.”