On This Foundation

  “Good. I have more names.” Malkijah gave her a piece of parchment small enough to fit in the palm of her hand. The heading on top of the list said Wedding Guests. “I made it look like a list of people we’re inviting to our wedding in case it falls into the wrong hands.”

  Chana barely glanced at the names, struck by the heading: Wedding Guests. She had promised to marry Malkijah when the wall was finished. And it was nearly finished. They would become man and wife soon. She prayed that her father would be there to celebrate with them. “I’ll give this to the governor,” she said.

  “No, show it to him, but don’t give it to him. It’s too risky. Then burn it in the fire.”

  “I will.”

  “I assured the other conspirators that I would try to recruit your father when he recovers, so that gives me a good excuse to come here and pass new information on to you. We’re meeting again at my estate in Beth Hakkerem. They’re going to confide their plans to me then.”

  “At your home? Why are you inviting these evil men there?”

  “It was their idea. They want me to prove my loyalty by agreeing to be seen with them, conspiring in my home. It’s also evidence of my involvement if we’re caught.”

  “Malkijah, please be careful. We have a wedding to plan, a real guest list to make.” She didn’t need to add that she had lost her fiancé once before, this close to their wedding. They were both well aware of it.

  He lifted her hand and kissed it. “Don’t worry. I’m always careful.”

  The next morning Chana went out through the Valley Gate to Abba’s section of the wall for the last time. The work was finished. She merely had to supervise as the workmen dismantled the crane and took down the scaffolding and cleared away all the equipment. She watched for Governor Nehemiah while overseeing the work, anxious to show him Malkijah’s list. When he finally arrived, it shocked her to see that two of the noblemen on Malkijah’s list of conspirators accompanied him on his inspection tour.

  “How is Shallum?” Nehemiah asked when he saw her.

  “May I speak with you in private about him?” She drew him away from the others and stood with her back to them. But Nehemiah continued to survey his surroundings in his unusual, cautious way. She had once thought it strange that he always remained vigilant, unable to relax. Now she understood the very real dangers he faced. “My father is no better. He’s at a critical stage, unable to eat, barely able to breathe.”

  “I’m very sorry to hear that.”

  Chana slid the parchment into his hand. “Here. This is for you to see. Malkijah asked me to show you this list of names and then destroy it.” She watched his face as he read it and saw his jaw tighten.

  “Please thank him for me.”

  “They’re meeting again at his estate in Beth Hakkerem. He hopes to learn their plans. I’ll let you know afterward.” Nehemiah nodded and walked back to the waiting men. He took a few minutes to inspect the wall and compliment the workers on a job well done, then he and his entourage moved on toward the Valley Gate. Chana wondered how the governor coped with the knowledge that two traitors followed him wherever he went.

  At the end of the day, Chana thanked all of her workers and returned home from the wall for the last time. She felt melancholy as she walked up the Street of the Bakers, sad to see the work she had enjoyed so much coming to an end. What could ever replace it? As she came through the gate, Yudit rushed out to meet her, smiling as she grabbed Chana’s hands in hers. “I have wonderful news! Abba is awake and talking again. He even ate a little soup.”

  Chana fell into Yudit’s arms, hugging her tightly. “Oh, thank God! Thank God!” Then they hurried into his room to join him and Sarah. Chana sank down beside him, overjoyed to see him alert and no longer in pain, although he was still far from well. “I have good news for you, Abba. Your section of the wall is done. It’s finished! We removed the scaffolding today and dismantled the crane. When you’re back on your feet, we’ll go out together to see it.”

  “My angels!” He managed to smile, despite his badly swollen face. “What would I do without my angels?”

  “We were afraid you’d be seeing real angels, Abba,” Sarah told him. “We were so worried about you.”

  “Paradise would have been a great disappointment to me,” he said. “There couldn’t possibly be any angels up there as beautiful as you three.”

  Chana rose to her feet again. “Come on. We need to go up to the temple for the evening sacrifice and thank the Almighty One for answering our prayers. We’ll be back soon, Abba.”

  “Yes, go. Go. And thank Him for me, too.”

  Tears of joy and thanksgiving streamed down Chana’s face throughout the service. Nearly losing her father had tested her faith, and she knew the ordeal had changed her. She would never take the people she loved for granted again. And like her father, she was determined to reach out to others from now on, to help them any way she could. As she left the temple again, Chana remembered her promise to help Nava, remembering how the servant girl had been sent back to Beth Hakkerem—back to Malkijah’s son. Chana was trying to decide how to help when she spotted Malkijah in the crowd. “I’ll catch up with you,” she told her sisters. “I want to tell Malkijah the good news.”

  “Chana, you’re smiling,” he said when he saw her. “Can I assume your father is better?”

  “Yes! He’s awake and alert and asking for food.”

  “That’s wonderful news.”

  Chana thought of Nava and said, “May I go with you to your estate for the meeting, Malkijah? I want to be there to support you.”

  “I don’t want to involve you in this conspiracy.”

  “I’m going to be your wife soon. I already am involved. Please, I would like to get to know my new home and our servants.” She could see his reluctance, but he finally agreed.

  “I should warn you that the other men will probably exclude you from the meeting.”

  “That doesn’t matter,” she said. “Come home with me now, Malkijah, and say hello to my father. He’ll be so happy to see you.”

  “Not nearly as happy as I am to see him.”

  Chana felt like singing as they descended the temple stairs together and walked down the hill to her home. The Almighty One had answered her prayers. Abba would live. Her section of the wall was finished. And now she would begin a new chapter in her life. She would become Malkijah’s wife, walking beside him this way for the rest of her life. The idea still frightened her, but shouldn’t life be an adventure?

  Chapter

  46

  BETH HAKKEREM

  Sweat dampened Nava’s hair and the back of her tunic as she added more fuel to the cooking fire. She had spent the long, hot day standing over the hearth cooking lentils and chickpeas, stirring Penina’s savory lamb stew, keeping the hearth fire going and the baking oven hot. Her master would return home from Jerusalem today, bringing guests, so the kitchen staff had to prepare an elaborate evening meal for them. Penina bustled around the courtyard shouting, “Watch what you’re doing! . . . Be careful! Don’t let that burn!” Everything had to be perfect.

  Nava was drawing water from the well for her goats late in the afternoon when Master Malkijah and his guests arrived. She stood with her water jar, peering at the group as they dismounted near the stables, and it shocked her to see that one of the guests was the man who had conspired at dinner in Jerusalem. Her master had invited him to his estate—which meant that Malkijah was a traitor. Then Nava saw him help his fiancée, Chana, down from the saddle, and her remaining shards of hope vanished like snow in the sunshine. She couldn’t expect any help from Chana if she was a traitor like the others. Nava didn’t understand how Chana could marry Malkijah knowing how greedy he was, how he refused to free his bondservants and cancel their debts. And that he was conspiring against Governor Nehemiah. As Malkijah’s new wife, Chana would be on his side—and on Aaron’s side—not Nava’s. And she would be forced to continue working here for six long years.

&n
bsp; She finished filling the water jar and finally let her bitter tears fall as she joined Shimon in the goat pen for the evening milking. “What’s wrong, girlie?” he asked.

  “I hate them! I hate them all!”

  He sat down on his milking stool beside her with a sigh. “The Torah tells us not to seek revenge or bear a grudge. It says we must love our neighbor as we love ourselves.”

  “You should hate them, too. Our masters are liars and traitors.”

  “You have proof of that?”

  “Yes. When I was in Jerusalem, I overheard Master Malkijah and another man conspiring against Governor Nehemiah—and now that man is one of Master’s guests tonight.”

  “Conspiring? What do you mean? What did they say?”

  “There’s a group of noblemen who think the governor has too much power, and they want to stop him. They don’t want him to help all the poor people like us.”

  Shimon stopped milking. He appeared shaken as he sat slump-shouldered on the stool. “I don’t believe it of him. Malkijah wouldn’t do something like that.”

  “Well, he is doing it. Now do you see what kind of man he is? He’s not only selfish and greedy, he wants power!”

  Shimon still hadn’t moved. “It isn’t right,” he murmured. “What he’s doing isn’t right. And he knows better. . . .”

  “Don’t pray for him anymore, Shimon. He’s a traitor. I wish I could think of a way to report him to the governor. I know Nehemiah is on our side. He tried to help us, and so now we should help him.”

  “We’re not going to say anything, girlie.”

  “Why not? Why won’t you speak up?”

  “I don’t want to see Malkijah ruined.”

  “Well, I do. He deserves it.”

  “Believe me, I want our master and his sons to see the greed in their hearts more than you’ll ever know. I pray every day for them to change. But you and I can’t change them. Even the governor wasn’t able to make Malkijah be kind to the poor. Only God can change his heart.”

  Shimon’s attitude toward their master baffled Nava. “Why do you even care? Why not just walk away from here and be free? You would never have to see any of them again.”

  He shook his head, his craggy face quivering as he battled his emotions. “I’ll never leave here. I’ll keep praying for Malkijah and his sons until the day I die.” He turned to face Nava and their eyes met. “And I’m praying for you, too.”

  “That he’ll set me free?”

  “Yes. Free from the bitterness that’s destroying you.”

  She looked away and finished the evening milking without speaking to Shimon again. He was right. In spite of all her efforts, Nava had allowed the poisonous vine of bitterness to grow and flourish and strangle her heart. But didn’t she have a right to be angry? Her master was a greedy man who cared nothing about her or his other servants. He’d raised his sons to be even greedier than he was. They’d taken Abba’s land, his flock of goats, and his crops. And they had taken Nava away from the man she loved. Yes, she had a right to hate them.

  She was still upset after she’d finished all her work and retired for the night. Penina was already asleep after a long day of cooking, but Nava tossed for what seemed like hours, growing angrier and angrier at the traitors who dined in splendor instead of helping the poor. She climbed out of bed again. Across the courtyard, Malkijah and his guests still sat in the dining area even though it was late in the evening. Nava decided to eavesdrop and find out what they were discussing. Maybe then she could figure out a way to report them to Governor Nehemiah before it was too late.

  She left her sleeping quarters and crept through the kitchen area in the dark. Watchmen patrolled the gates and the perimeter of the walled compound at night, so she took the long way around to the open-air dining room, sneaking past the main house and beneath the bedchamber windows. She hid behind a pomegranate tree next to the house, crouching in the shadows, away from the light that spilled from the lampstands in the dining area. She waited for her breathing to slow and her heart to stop pounding, listening to the occasional laughter, the sound of tableware clinking. One of the guests loudly praised Master Malkijah’s wine. But most of the time they talked in low, mumbling voices that she couldn’t quite hear. She needed to inch closer.

  Nava was searching the shadows for a hiding place closer to the dining room when she heard rustling footsteps behind her. But she’d heard them a moment too late. Before she could turn all the way around, someone grabbed her from behind, clamping his hand over her mouth. “Don’t make a sound or I’ll kill you right here,” he whispered. She recognized Aaron’s voice, the scent of his clothes. Fear and panic squeezed her heart and stole her breath. She struggled and kicked and fought with all her strength, but he was much bigger and stronger than she was. He pinned her arms to her sides, his grip so tight she thought all her bones would break. His other hand pressed against her mouth, stifling her screams.

  He lifted her up as if she weighed nothing at all and dragged her away from the dining room and into the darkness, heading toward the black void between the house and the wall of the compound. Nava was running out of air, out of strength. She couldn’t keep fighting and struggling much longer. Aaron was going to have his way with her.

  Lord, help me! Help me, please! she prayed. She was sorry for turning away from God, sorry for refusing to pray all these months—but she would do everything right from now on. She would serve Master Malkijah willingly and without bitterness for the next six years if only God would hear her prayer and save her. Please, please help me!

  Aaron pulled her to the ground and pinned her beneath his weight, knocking the air from her lungs. He tore her clothing with one hand while the other hand remained over her mouth. “Stop fighting me, or this will be even worse for you,” he said, his voice calm and cold. Nava kept fighting, knowing she would rather die than submit to him.

  Suddenly the light of the stars above them disappeared behind a shadow. The dark shape of a man loomed above them. Shimon. He yanked Aaron from behind, lifting him and pulling him off Nava. As soon as Aaron’s hand came away from her mouth, Nava began screaming for help. Shimon must have been watching over her all this time, and now he had come to rescue her. Aaron was so enraged that as soon as he rose to his feet and regained his balance, he punched the old man in the gut. Nava heard the sickening thuds as Aaron punched him again and again before shoving him roughly to the ground and kicking him.

  But Nava’s screams had brought help. She clutched her torn clothes around her as servants came running from every direction, including Penina and Ruth. Master Malkijah and Chana came, too. Aaron didn’t have time to run away. Now they would all see what kind of man he was, what he had tried to do.

  Chana quickly knelt beside Nava. “You poor girl. Are you hurt?”

  “He came after me and . . . and threw me on the ground,” Nava sobbed. She looked around for Shimon to confirm her story, but he was still lying on the ground, moaning in pain from Aaron’s blows.

  “Please, everyone return to the table,” Malkijah told his guests. “This is nothing to worry about. Just a dispute between my servants. Pour everyone some more wine,” he told his house servants. He waited until the guests and most of his servants had gone away, then said, “Tell me what happened, Aaron.”

  “I came outside for a walk, and I caught the old man attacking her. I stepped in to save her.”

  “Liar!” Nava shouted. “He’s lying! Aaron would have had his way with me if Shimon hadn’t stopped him.”

  “How dare you accuse my son of such a thing?”

  “It’s the truth! He’s been following me for weeks, trying to get me alone. He even taunted me, saying he could do whatever he wanted to me and get away with it because no one would ever believe me.”

  “She’s making it all up, Father,” Aaron said calmly. “She thinks I’ll have to marry her if she accuses me. The old man is probably in on it with her. I’ll bet they staged this entire thing so they could trap me
and accuse me. You know I wouldn’t lower myself to be with a common servant.”

  “What do you have to say, Shimon? Somebody help him up.”

  One of the servants bent to help him, but Shimon cried out in pain. “No, don’t! . . . I-I can’t move . . . I think my hip is broken.”

  This was the nightmare Nava had feared. Malkijah would believe his son, not her, not Shimon. She looked up at Penina and Ruth and the other remaining servants and pleaded with them in desperation. “We need to tell our master the truth. Penina, tell him what’s been going on. Please! You’ve seen everything. You know! . . . Ruth, you know the truth, too. Somebody tell him!”

  They all looked down at Shimon, still lying on the ground, his lip bleeding from being punched. “Yes,” he said with another groan. “Yes, it’s time for the truth.” And as if in answer to Nava’s prayers, one by one the other servants spoke up.

  “I’m sorry to say it, my lord,” Ruth said, “but Master Aaron has been chasing after the girl for some time.”

  “I’ve seen him with her, too,” Penina said. “She’s terrified of him.”

  “You’ve known Shimon since you were a boy, my lord,” Ruth added. “Do you honestly believe him capable of this?”

  “Well, I certainly don’t believe my son is capable of it.” Malkijah crouched beside Shimon and said, “Tell me the truth, old friend. What really happened?”

  “The girl is telling the truth. Aaron tried to rape her. I’ve been following her, keeping an eye on her because I was afraid something like this might happen. When I tried to stop Aaron, he punched me and pushed me down.”

  Malkijah rose to his feet again. Nava held her breath, waiting, wondering what he would do. “I don’t know who to believe,” he finally said. “No son of mine would be capable of such a thing.” But the anger and certainty had gone out of his voice, replaced by shock and numbed disbelief. “Tell me the truth, Aaron.”