On This Foundation
“Save your breath. I would never forgive myself if someone got killed guarding my home and my family while I stayed where it was safe. . . . There’s Malkijah. I need to speak with him before he leaves.”
“Wait,” Nehemiah called again. His brother halted, looking impatient. “You’ve been working alongside Malkijah for a while now. Can I ask you a question about him?” Ephraim nodded. “Someone told me that he broke his oath and didn’t free his bondservants or cancel their debts. Do you know if that’s true?”
“I have no idea. Ask him yourself.”
“And while you’re at it,” Hanani added, “you can talk to him about Shallum’s daughter. Malkijah is betrothed to her.”
Being reminded of Chana made Nehemiah angry all over again. Didn’t he have enough to worry about without adding her to his list? He pushed his anger aside for now as he approached Malkijah, determined not to confront him with everything at once. “I see you’re making excellent progress,” Nehemiah began. “You took on a very critical task with this gate because it’s at the junction of the three valleys. And you’ve had the added responsibility of safeguarding the King’s Pool. Great work!”
“Thank you, Governor.”
“I suppose you heard what happened to Shallum today?”
Malkijah’s smile faded to a look of concern. “Yes, he’s my father-in-law. I’m going up to see him now that Ephraim is here to take over.”
“I spoke with his daughter earlier. She has taken it upon herself to work in Shallum’s place after he was injured.”
“Chana? What do you mean—on the wall?”
“Yes. She says she’s supervising the construction for him. I asked her to stop and warned her that she’s in danger, but she wouldn’t listen. I was hoping you could talk some sense into her.”
“I’ll try. . . . But I can’t promise I’ll succeed. One of the things that attracted me to Chana was her lively spirit. I gave her my word before we were betrothed that I wouldn’t force her to do anything against her will. I don’t think it’s a husband’s place to order his wife around.”
“Even when she’s in danger?”
“Knowing Chana, this is something she probably needs to do, especially after what happened to her father today. She wants to rebuild the wall in order to protect the people she loves.”
The frustrating thing was that Nehemiah understood how Chana felt, what motivated her. If she weren’t a woman, he would applaud her courage. “There’s something else, Malkijah . . . I’m very reluctant to speak to you about this, but I don’t like gossip and rumors. I always prefer to learn the truth myself, whenever possible. Is it true that you didn’t cancel your debtors’ loans or free your bondservants when all of the other nobles did?”
Malkijah lifted his chin. “Yes, it’s true.”
The young man named Dan had told the truth. It wasn’t a rumor.
Malkijah’s steady gaze never wavered. “I never took the oath at the temple, Governor, so I’m not guilty of breaking it.”
“May I ask why you didn’t?”
“Because my estate couldn’t function if I had. I need workers, especially during this drought, so I can harvest enough food to survive and pay my taxes.”
“But your workers are growing resentful, especially after watching their neighbors go free.”
“I can’t set them free right now. I’m sorry.”
“Might you be willing to reconsider after the harvest? The peace between the rich and poor is very fragile right now.”
“I will gladly open my books to you,” Malkijah said, his tone growing heated. “I’ll show you all the ways I’m helping the poor, the things I’ve done for the good of the people in my district. It’s true that I still have bondservants, but I’m feeding them and their families. And I’m not charging interest on their loans as I continue to carry them. My workers have no cause to be resentful.”
Nehemiah didn’t know what to think. He paused for such a long time that Malkijah finally said, “I can see you’re disappointed in me. If you’d like, I’ll resign as commander and reassign the construction of this gate to whomever you choose. I’ll return to my property in Beth Hakkerem.”
Again, Nehemiah didn’t reply, his sleep-deprived mind taking longer to think and to reach a decision. “That won’t be necessary, Malkijah,” he finally said. “Carry on.” He walked away, wondering if he had just lost a trusted friend and supporter—or if Malkijah had only pretended to be one from the beginning.
Chapter
41
JERUSALEM
Time seemed to slow as Chana sat cross-legged on the floor at her father’s bedside, listening to his tortured breathing, his weary moans. He awoke again as night fell and looked over at her, his pain-filled eyes swollen nearly shut. “I’ll fetch some more elixir,” she said, scrambling to her feet.
“Not yet, my angel. Sit by me.” His voice sounded tight and hoarse, as if it pained him to speak. Chana sat down and took his uninjured hand in hers, kissing the back of it. “Chana, don’t grieve again if I die.”
“Abba—”
“Be happy with Malkijah. . . . I trust him with you and your sisters.”
“Please don’t talk this way. You’ll live, I know you will.”
“God willing, Chana . . . God willing . . . But don’t stop singing, my little bird. Don’t sink into that well of grief again. Promise me.”
Chana met his gaze, her vision blurred by tears. “I promise,” she whispered. She would keep her word. Abba nodded slightly and tried to smile.
“And if I die, Chana . . . don’t ask God, ‘Why?’ Ask, ‘How?’ . . . How can I make the world a better place? How can I show His love?”
Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I will, Abba.”
“I’m praying for my three girls . . . that He’ll keep you strong.” He smiled and closed his eyes again. “Sing for me now, my angel. . . .”
She choked back the knot in her throat and began to sing softly to him. “As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, O God. . . .”
In the past few months since work began on the wall, Chana knew she had finally grown up. She’d faced the truth about her betrothal to Yitzhak and seen the ugliness of her self-pitying grief for him. She’d learned what it meant to make a commitment and keep her word, deciding to trust Malkijah and not annul their betrothal. Abba also had given his word when he’d signed her ketubah and when he’d committed to rebuilding the wall. Chana would do everything in her power to help her father be a man of his word. So many decisions in her life weren’t hers to make, but these were.
“By day the Lord directs his love, at night his song is with me—a prayer to the God of my life. . . .” She thought of Queen Esther as she watched Abba drift in and out of sleep. Esther’s life had also been under others’ control. She’d been orphaned, carried into exile, forced to join the king’s beauty contest, chosen for his harem, then marked for execution. Yet Esther had shown courage and intelligence as she’d used the means available to her to bring about change. Chana wondered what means she had available to change things in her loved ones’ lives.
“Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God. . . .” In spite of her ongoing argument with Governor Nehemiah, she respected him and the work he was trying to accomplish. That’s why worry over the conspiracy that Nava had overheard—and Malkijah’s part in it—continued to plague Chana. Her father was a district leader, loyal to Nehemiah; she should report what she knew for Abba’s sake. But how could she do that without betraying Malkijah? Lord, show me what to do, she prayed.
Chana was deep in thought, asking the Almighty One for help, when her sister Yudit came to the bedroom door. “Malkijah is here. He wants to talk to you.” Yudit took Chana’s place at Abba’s bedside while Chana rose and went out to where Malkijah stood waiting in the courtyard. A crescent moon hovered just above the wall and stars filled the sky above Jerusalem. They had no right to shine so brightly, so beautifully, wit
h Abba so gravely ill.
“Was that you singing, just now?” he asked. “It sounded beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
“How is your father? And how are you?” Malkijah looked as weary as the governor had, his eyelids drooping when he blinked as if they wanted to remain closed. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Everyone keeps asking that. I don’t think there’s much anyone can do. We’re trying to relieve his pain and the swelling with poultices. Now we just have to wait.”
“I heard you’re taking his place, supervising his section of the wall.”
She exhaled. “News travels fast in Jerusalem. . . . Please don’t ask me to stop, Malkijah.”
He started to speak, then didn’t. Chana waited. “At least let me send a bodyguard to protect you,” he finally said.
“That’s not necessary.”
“Chana, remember your concern when I injured my hand?” He held it up for her to see, the linen bandage dazzlingly white in the moonlight. “Can you imagine how I must feel, knowing the danger you’re in when you’re outside the wall? Our enemies could shoot arrows from a distance without warning.”
“How will a bodyguard help against arrows?”
“He’ll give me peace of mind.” She didn’t reply, chafing at the idea of having a watchdog trailing behind her. “I have so many things on my mind right now, Chana, including my concern for your father and for you. Don’t make me add one more to them by refusing to take a guard with you.”
She nodded her agreement, sorry for her stubbornness. “If it would ease your mind.”
“It would. I can imagine how worried you must be about your father. If you need to talk about it . . .”
Chana was about to say that she had Yudit and Sarah to talk to, then realized that maybe Malkijah needed someone to confide in. He had just told her he had many things on his mind right now, and she wondered if the conspiracy was one of them. Maybe Chana could work behind the scenes, like Queen Esther, and talk him out of joining it. If Malkijah trusted her, perhaps he would listen to her.
She surprised him by taking his hand and leading him up to her rooftop, where they could be alone. The shadow of the wall loomed above them in the darkness, blocking out the moon. “Maybe it would help if you talked to me about these things that occupy your mind,” she said. “I can see that you need rest.”
“Do I really look that bad?”
“Yes. How long has it been since you went home to eat and sleep and change your clothes?”
He smiled. “I can’t remember.”
“Tell me what’s worrying you, Malkijah.”
His smile faded. He stared into the distance, taking a long time to reply. “I think I’ve lost the governor’s trust. He’s disappointed in me for not taking his oath.” He looked at her again and said, “I know you were disappointed in me, too. I tried to explain to him why I couldn’t do it, but I’m not sure he understood. I even offered to resign.”
“What did he say?”
“He wouldn’t accept my resignation. But the loss of his confidence worries me, especially now. I need him to trust me more than ever.”
“Why?” she asked, dreading his reply.
Again, he hesitated as his mind seemed to wrestle with something. “Chana, I need your help. I need to tell you something that no one else knows. But first I have to be sure I have your complete trust.”
Her heart raced as she paused to think. She had pledged her life to him, and their marriage had to be based on trust. Abba had just said that he entrusted all three of his daughters to Malkijah’s care if he died. And now Malkijah needed her help. She took his hand again. “Yes. You have my trust.”
He let out the breath he’d been holding. “I was asked to join a group of noblemen who are plotting against the governor. I pretended interest so I could find out who is behind it, and I got them to give me one more name—Shecaniah ben Arah. That means Tobiah the Ammonite is involved, because he’s married to Shecaniah’s daughter. Tobiah has been trying to gain power here in Judah for a long time. He probably wants to govern in Nehemiah’s place. I’ve agreed to meet with the group again so I can find out what their plans are and who else is involved in the conspiracy. Then I can warn Governor Nehemiah—if he’ll still listen to me.”
“Why don’t you tell him now?”
“He has too many men surrounding him. Until I learn who some of the other conspirators are, I can’t trust anyone. Some of the men closest to Nehemiah might be involved. Even his brothers, for all I know.”
“But if this goes too far and you get caught, everyone will think you’re a traitor.”
“I know, I know. That’s why I’m telling you. I may need you to back up my story.”
She felt frightened for him and very worried. He walked a dangerous path. Then an idea for how she could help began to form in her mind. “Nehemiah makes his rounds every day, inspecting the progress on the wall,” she said. “When he comes to my father’s section tomorrow, I’ll talk to him in private and tell him everything you just told me about the conspiracy. I’ll tell him you aren’t a traitor but that you’re trying to find out who the rebels really are.”
“Make sure you’re alone with him, Chana, and that no one else is listening—not even his brothers or the trumpeter he takes everywhere.”
“Should I tell him about Shecaniah ben Arah?”
“Yes. And tell him that Meshullam is the man who asked me to join. Meshullam also has ties by marriage to Tobiah. I know Nehemiah has received letters from Tobiah, trying to intimidate him into forming an alliance, but tell the governor that neither Tobiah nor his father-in-law nor his son-in-law can be trusted. They’re behind this conspiracy.”
“I will.”
“And, Chana, Nehemiah’s life may be in danger. He shouldn’t trust anyone until I find out who else is involved.”
“Please be careful, Malkijah.”
“I will.” He patted the sword that hung from his belt. “I have to go. Thanks for your help.”
Chana walked downstairs with him, knowing she wouldn’t sleep, knowing she not only needed to pray for her father but also for Malkijah and the governor.
“And, Chana . . .” Malkijah said before closing her gate, “don’t leave this house tomorrow without the guard I’m sending.”
Chapter
42
BETH HAKKEREM
Sweat dampened Nava’s forehead as she stood over the fire, cooking onions and garlic and chunks of savory lamb. She and the small kitchen crew had worked since dawn to prepare the midday meal for the grape harvesters. She missed working in the Jerusalem house alongside her friend Rachel. “In the city, we had to cook for three times as many laborers as this every day,” she told Penina. “And it was much hotter there than here.”
“It’s still early in the harvest season,” Penina told her. “Things will get busier once all the laborers return and the full harvest begins.” She walked to where Nava worked and sprinkled handfuls of cumin and coriander into the pot. The fragrant aroma filled Nava’s nostrils, making her stomach rumble with hunger. She thought of her parents and older brothers, wondering if they were harvesting their grapes—and if they had enough food to eat.
“How is the progress on Jerusalem’s wall coming along?” one of the other servants asked Nava. “Could you see it from our master’s house?”
“Not from his house, but I had a good view from the top of the temple mount. The wall around the city looked nearly finished when I left.”
“Already? That was fast.”
“Yes. Hundreds of men all work on it at the same time. And they even built a fortress on the north side by the temple.”
Mentioning the temple reminded Nava of Dan, and a knot of grief lumped in her throat. She had no idea when she would see him again. She missed being near him at the sacrifice every day, secretly holding his hand, being reassured of his love. They’d enjoyed more than a month together before she’d been sent back here to Beth Hakkerem, and
now she worried that without her by his side, Dan’s anger toward Malkijah would burn dangerously hot.
At last the lamb was cooked and the bread baked. But Nava had no time to sit down and rest and eat. “You need to help us carry the food out to the vineyard to the workmen,” Penina told her. “We’ll all eat outside with them.”
“But isn’t Master Aaron working in the vineyard, too?”
“He may be. It doesn’t matter. I need your help. Stay close beside me if you’re worried.”
Nava was worried. Shimon had told her to pray, not for herself but for Aaron. She didn’t understand how she could pray for a man she hated, nor did she really believe that prayer would do any good. She lifted a full water jug and balanced it on her head, remembering the countless jars she had carried to help water Abba’s land. She slipped her arm through the handle of a basket of bread and followed the other women out of the compound, making sure to stay close to Penina. They climbed uphill to the vineyard, halting at the lowest terrace where they laid out the food. The workmen quickly gathered around, grateful for the refreshment.
Just as she’d feared, Master Aaron arrived to eat with his workers, and judging by the spotless linen robe he wore, he wasn’t doing much work. He didn’t even have a knife to cut the stems or a basket to collect the grape clusters like all the other men did. Nava turned away the moment she saw him and hurried over to stand beside Penina with her back to him. When she felt a hand on her shoulder, she knew it was his.
“Here you are, my beauty,” he said. “What a nice surprise. And I see you walked all the way up here without dropping the water jug or spilling the bread. Who was it that said you were clumsy? They were wrong.”
“Do you need something, Master Aaron?” she asked.
He leaned close to whisper, “You.” He still had his hand on her shoulder and the hot weight of it seemed to burn all the way to her skin. Penina held out the basket of bread to him, and he finally pulled his hand away to take a piece. “Which dish did you cook?” he asked Nava as he bit into it.