“That’s very fair of you, Nehemiah,” Hanani said with a humorless laugh. “That way, everyone will have to walk uphill to confer with you—those working near the very bottom of the ridge will have to climb up here to talk to you, and those working near the temple will have to climb uphill again after they talk to you.”
“It’s for my convenience, not theirs,” Nehemiah said. “So I can move quickly to wherever I’m needed.”
“And you are quick, I must say,” Ephraim said. He was still trying to catch his breath after their brisk walk.
One by one the other leaders began to arrive, moving between the houses like shadows in the early dawn light. His three aides, Rehum, Jehohanan, and Levi, were among the first to join him. Of the three, only Jehohanan looked awake and alert. Nehemiah again wished he could have investigated these three men thoroughly before taking them into his confidence as he would have done in Susa, but there hadn’t been time. Instead, he’d been forced to rely on the judgment of the officials who’d recommended them. But he knew without a doubt that he could trust his brothers and was glad they’d agreed to be his right-hand men.
Rays of sunlight streaked the sky above the Mount of Olives as the last of the leaders arrived. Time to begin. “This is an exciting day for all of us,” Nehemiah said. “Each of you has volunteered to oversee a section of the wall or to rebuild one of the ten gates. For those of you who require lumber, you’ll need to talk to my brother.” Ephraim lifted his hand so everyone would know who he was. “He’s in charge of procuring timber from the king’s forest a few miles south of Jerusalem. But he’s going to need wagons and teams of oxen and mules to haul it here, so if any of you can spare your wagons or teams, please let Ephraim know. I hope by now that you’ve had a chance to survey your assigned section and have begun to gather your workers,” Nehemiah continued.
“People from my district came forward to volunteer in great numbers,” someone shouted.
“Mine too.”
“Good.” He paused as Hanani handed him the map. “This morning I want to go over this map of the sections and their leaders so you can see who will be working alongside you and so I can learn who you are. I’ll start at the north side of the city near the temple mount and proceed around the wall to the west. The first leader is Eliashib, the high priest, who will oversee the restoration of the temple’s citadel.”
“My fellow priests and I have committed to rebuilding the section of wall from the Sheep Gate to the western corner,” Eliashib said, “including the Tower of the Hundred and the Tower of Hananel.”
“Excellent. I know that’s asking a lot of you and your men. The Babylonians completely destroyed the citadel and its gates when they broke through to invade the city, so it will be a huge task to rebuild it. We’ll need fortified towers and a reinforced wall because that section is still the most vulnerable. We all know that our enemies typically attack from that direction. And you’ve also volunteered to repair the Sheep Gate and reset its doors, I see?”
“Yes, Governor. The sheep used for the daily temple sacrifices come through that gate, so I intend to consecrate it for holy use. My grandfather, Jeshua ben Jozadak, arrived with the first group of exiles who returned with Zerubbabel, and he would have been overjoyed to see these gates and fortifications rebuilt.”
“Didn’t your grandfather help rebuild the temple?”
“Yes. And served as its first high priest.”
Nehemiah continued reading from his list, calling each section leader’s name and then memorizing each face. He was thankful for his training as a cupbearer, which had taught him to remember names and faces. The king’s life had depended on his ability to recognize every palace worker on sight so he could spot intruders. When he read the name Meshullam, son of Berekiah, it seemed familiar to him. Nehemiah tried to recall why.
“I’m Meshullam. And along with repairing a section on the western wall, I will also make repairs opposite my living quarters on the eastern wall.”
“Very good.” Nehemiah recognized him now. He had borrowed Meshullam’s mule the night he’d inspected the walls. “And I see that the men of Tekoa are listed next . . . but I don’t have a name for the person in charge of that section.”
“We haven’t chosen one yet, Governor,” a volunteer replied. “Our nobles shirked their duty and refused to put their shoulders to the work. They disdain manual labor.”
“Where is Tekoa?”
“Six miles south of Bethlehem and eleven miles from Jerusalem. We’re ashamed of our noblemen, my lord, but very proud to be the hometown of the prophet Amos. And we’ve also volunteered to do double duty and repair another section on the opposite side of the city, near the wall of Ophel.”
“May the Almighty One reward your labor. You’re to be commended for your enthusiasm in spite of your leaders’ bad example.” As Nehemiah continued reading the names, he was surprised to see that the leaders of Gibeon and Mizpah had volunteered to make repairs. Both towns were under the authority of Governor Sanballat, and Mizpah was an important Samaritan administrative center. Nehemiah resisted the impulse to question the two leaders and ask where their loyalties truly lay. Instead, he made a mental note to watch them closely. Continuing around the perimeter of the city, he came to another name he already knew. “Rephaiah, ruler of the half-district of Jerusalem, will repair the next section.”
“Yes. Gladly,” Rephaiah said. “If the wall had been built a year ago, my son Yitzhak might still be alive.”
Nehemiah quickly moved on, but not before recalling the grief-filled eyes of Yitzhak’s young bride-to-be. He had dined with her at the home of her father, Shallum, ruler of the other half-district of Jerusalem. Did the woman now understand why he hadn’t answered her question that night? He read the names of four more men who were each repairing a section along the western wall and saw that her father, Shallum, had volunteered to make repairs between the Tower of the Ovens and the Valley Gate. “Hanun and the residents of Zanoah will rebuild the Valley Gate, right behind us,” Nehemiah continued. “That will be a huge job, Hanun. An important job. And I see you’ve also volunteered to rebuild the wall all the way to the Dung Gate. That’s an extraordinary length. Have you had a chance to look over the work?”
“Yes, Governor. The original wall was built on a steep, rock scarp that is still intact. We’ll only need to add three or four feet of wall to its height.”
“Even so, thank you for your willingness to tackle a huge job. . . . That takes us as far as the Dung Gate. A very big task considering that it’s one of Jerusalem’s main gates at the junction of the Hinnom and Kidron Valleys. I see that Malkijah ben Recab, ruler of the district of Beth Hakkerem, will be rebuilding that gate.”
“Yes, Governor Nehemiah. I’m Malkijah. We met the other day.”
“I remember.” Malkijah had struck Nehemiah as a very personable man, extremely astute—and obviously very wealthy, judging by his clothing and his staff of servants and the fine wine he had given Nehemiah as a welcoming gift.
“I have already consulted your engineers,” Malkijah said, smiling his crooked grin. “And they’ve instructed me on the best way to proceed and the type of gate I should construct. I’ll be working closely with them.”
“Very good. Your gate and the next section all the way to the Fountain Gate are extremely critical to the southern defense of Jerusalem. The Pool of Siloam is within this section, too. Have you decided what to do about it, yet?”
“Yes. King Hezekiah constructed the Pool of Siloam so it would be accessible to the new settlers in the Mishneh, but since the Mishneh is no longer populated, I plan to close off outside access to the pool by building a wall on that western side.”
“Excellent. Thank you. Now we come to the long stretch of wall on Jerusalem’s eastern side, above the Kidron Valley. I’ve had a chance to examine it with our engineers, and we’ve concluded that the central section of the old wall was too badly destroyed and there is too much rubble from the supporting structures to
rebuild it. The supports were constructed over a period of many years—and we don’t have years. Instead, we’ll build a new wall higher up on the slope and make the steep cliff and rubble field part of our defenses. That means the city will be smaller than before the Babylonian destruction, and a few of the houses that already have been rebuilt will end up outside the new wall.”
He took a moment to mop the sweat from his face as the section leaders talked among themselves. The sun had reached the rim of the ridge and shone directly into his eyes as he faced the gathered men. “Because of the great difficulty the cliff presents, and the fact that we’ll be building a new wall from scratch, I’ve divided the eastern wall beyond the Fountain Gate into much smaller sections.” He consulted his list again and read off the names of each leader as far as the House of Heroes. “What is the House of Heroes, by the way?” he asked.
“Tradition says that it dates back to the time of King David and served as a barracks and an armory for his legendary Mighty Men. But the remains of it will now be outside the wall you propose to build.”
“I see. That’s unfortunate, but right now we don’t have much use for an armory or a barracks.” Nehemiah continued reading, putting a face with each name. He was encouraged to see that a good number of priests and temple servants had volunteered to rebuild sections of the wall adjacent to their residences. Even tradesmen such as the goldsmiths and the merchants’ guild were taking part in his project. “I believe that covers everyone,” he said when he reached the Sheep Gate on the north side once again. “Thank you.”
Nehemiah could tell by the sun’s height that the morning sacrifice would begin soon, but there was one more thing he wanted to say. “I know it’s time to dismiss you so we can make our way up to the temple, but before I do, I want to emphasize how important it will be to work closely with the men making repairs on either side of you. Each section of the wall must join tightly together with the ones on either side,” he said, lacing his fingers together to demonstrate. “And of course the walls must fuse seamlessly into the gates. A vertical seam will weaken the wall, just as strife and contention and jealousy weakens our community. Gentlemen, we must work together as one man for the good of all God’s chosen people.”
Nehemiah felt euphoric as he turned to his brothers and his three aides for the uphill walk to the temple. Then he froze when he saw a look of concern on Ephraim’s face. “What’s wrong? Did I forget something?”
“You’d better read this. It arrived this morning from Samaria. One of your servants brought it here while you were speaking.” Judging from Ephraim’s expression, it wasn’t good news.
“Tell me what it says. Did you read it?”
Ephraim nodded. “Governor Sanballat will arrive for an official state visit in two days, along with Tobiah the Ammonite leader and Geshem the Arab.”
“Well.” Nehemiah exhaled. “That certainly didn’t take long. The Samaritan governor has obviously heard about our building project. I wonder if we have a spy among us. . . . In any event, let’s go,” he said as he started walking uphill with the others toward the temple. “We’re going to need the Almighty One’s help now more than ever.”
“How shall I instruct your servants to prepare for their visit?” Ephraim asked.
“Tell them to do the bare minimum. I can’t afford the time or the expense of entertaining these men. If they’re going to barge in uninvited when I have work to do, then they can hardly expect royal treatment.”
“Won’t they be insulted?” Hanani asked.
“I really don’t care. Our work on the wall is much more important. We’re off to a good start in spite of this latest distraction. Every section of wall and every gate has a capable overseer. Some men may have bitten off too big of a piece, and a few, like the nobles of Tekoa, have disappointed me by not volunteering at all, but I believe this work will be accomplished quickly. I’m very pleased.”
“Do you think Governor Sanballat and the others will try to stop us from rebuilding the wall?” Hanani asked.
“No doubt. But they won’t succeed. Rebuilding Jerusalem’s wall is God’s work, and from now on, those who try to halt its progress are opposing the Almighty One. They will become His enemies as well as ours.”
Chapter
21
JERUSALEM
Nava stopped every few yards as she climbed the stairs to the temple mount, taking time to scan all the faces for a familiar one. She had attended the morning sacrifice every day for the past week and recognized many of the same people, such as the old woman with the tattered head scarf who wept when she prayed; the group of young Torah students who followed their rebbe like a string of chicks behind a hen; and the new governor, Nehemiah, who never missed a day of worship. But Nava was losing hope of ever finding Dan or her father and brothers among the crowd of worshipers.
Thanks to her master’s housekeeper, Nava had moved to Jerusalem to work in Malkijah’s city house. The city’s population had swelled in size, as it did during the annual pilgrimage festivals, with hundreds of men from every corner of the province flocking to rebuild Jerusalem’s wall. The sounds and sights of construction were everywhere, and the noise even drifted into her master’s kitchen where Nava worked during the day. From sunup until sundown, the activity on the wall halted only during the daily sacrifices and on the Sabbath.
Nava felt certain that Dan would volunteer to help. Maybe Abba and her brothers had, too. Her master supervised repairs to the Dung Gate using volunteers from his district of Beth Hakkerem, but she doubted that Dan or Abba would work for him. So where were they working?
She paused to catch her breath and look around when she reached the top of the stairs. The early morning air already felt warm. Then she hurried over to a group of young laborers who were standing together, talking. “Excuse me,” she said. “Where are you from?”
“Beth Zur,” one of them told her.
“Have any of you seen a young man named Dan ben Yonah from Beth Hakkerem?” The men shook their heads and Nava moved on. The people she had questioned this past week had come from all over the province of Judah, and she had met workers from places like Mizpah and Tekoa and Gibeon. Whenever her master’s cook needed spices or fresh fish or something else from the marketplace, Nava had offered to go, taking a different route each time, hoping to run into Dan. Instead of eating breakfast, she spent the time every morning at the temple, searching for her family and for Dan and his family, desperate to let them know she was here and could visit with them once in a while.
Nava continued searching the crowd as the priests sacrificed the lamb and laid it on the altar. Sometimes the Levite choir sang, but even they had volunteered to repair sections of the wall. She watched another priest take a glowing coal from the altar using special tongs and a fire pan, then carry it into the sanctuary where only they were allowed to go. This was the time when she was supposed to pray, while the fragrant aroma of the burning incense ascended to heaven. Nava still wasn’t convinced that the Almighty One listened to her prayers, but with nothing to lose, she closed her eyes and whispered the words that she prayed every morning. Please help me find Dan and my family.
When the service ended, she hurried toward the stairs with all of the other worshipers, scanning the faces in the crowd once again. None of her master’s other servants came to the morning sacrifice, and she didn’t dare to be gone for very long. With fewer servants and many laborers to feed, Nava worked harder here than she had in Beth Hakkerem. Malkijah’s house was small but still opulent, with beautifully paneled walls and exquisite rugs on the floors. Along with feeding his workers every day, he also liked to entertain important people whenever he could. Sometimes those multi-course meals lasted well into the night.
Nava was halfway across the courtyard when she suddenly glimpsed Dan’s face in the crowd. Was she seeing things? After hoping and searching for so many days, had she only imagined it? She wove between the other worshipers who were moving much too slowly, craning her neck
to see. It was Dan! He stood near the top of the steps leading down from the temple mount, and if he had continued walking down the stairs she would have missed him. But he had halted, stepping aside for some reason, and he turned his head in her direction.
“Dan!” Nava shouted. It was a miracle! But with the courtyard jammed with people, he didn’t hear or see her. He wasn’t expecting to see her. She elbowed her way through the flowing stream, calling his name, ignoring the stern looks and loud shushing from people all around her. “Dan! Dan, wait!”
He looked up when he heard his name, then froze when he saw Nava. He didn’t move, didn’t run to her as she’d expected him to, and for a horrible moment she wondered if he had found someone else. Maybe he’d decided not to wait six long years for her, like Master Aaron predicted. But when she reached him, she saw the love brimming in his eyes as he whispered her name, and she knew that none of what she’d imagined was true. Dan loved her. “Nava . . . is it really you?”
“Yes! I thought I’d never find you,” she said, panting to catch her breath.
“And I thought I’d never see you again.” His voice choked and it was a moment before he could speak. She could tell that he wanted to hold her and kiss her the way he had on the morning she’d left home. And she longed to fling herself into his arms, too, but she didn’t dare, especially in the temple courtyard, surrounded by so many people. “Are you all right, Nava? That’s all I wanted to know that night I came to Beth Hakkerem to see you. Are they treating you well?”
Nava hesitated, unsure whether or not to tell him about Aaron. There was nothing Dan could do about her master’s son, and she knew he would only worry. “Yes. I’m treated well.”
“Have that man’s sons touched you? I don’t see how they could resist a beautiful woman like you, but—”