Page 17 of A Lineage of Grace


  “Wait!” Rahab said. “Escape to the hill country,” she told them. “Hide there for three days until the men who are searching for you have returned; then go on your way.”

  Ephraim nodded, grasped the rope, and went out the window. Rahab heard a soft cascade of loosened mortar, then a thud as he hit the ground. Salmon handed the rope to her and sat on the windowsill.

  “Listen to me, Rahab. We can guarantee your safety only if you leave this scarlet rope hanging from the window. And all your family members—your father, mother, brothers, and all your relatives—must be here inside the house. If they go out into the street, they will be killed, and we cannot be held to our oath. But we swear that no one inside this house will be killed—not a hand will be laid on any of them.”

  She bit her lip as gratitude filled her.

  He swung one leg out and looked back at her. “If you betray us, however, we are not bound by this oath in any way.”

  “I accept your terms,” she replied.

  The look in his eyes changed subtly. Letting go of the rope, he reached out and cupped the back of her head, pulling her close. Her heart stopped, for she thought he meant to kiss her.

  “Don’t be afraid. I’ll be back for you.”

  “I hope so.”

  He released her and took up the rope. “Are you strong enough to hold me?”

  She laughed. “I’ll have to be!” She held on with all her strength, and when she thought she’d fail, she found strength she didn’t know she had.

  When Salmon let go of the rope, she stood on her tiptoes and looked out the window. Both men stood below her. Ephraim was looking around cautiously, but Salmon grinned up at her. He raised his hand in a gesture of salutation and promise. She waved for him to go quickly.

  She smiled when she saw they took the road leading to the hill country.

  THREE

  Salmon and Ephraim followed the road over the mountains into the hill country. It was well past dawn when they rested near a small stream. Kneeling, eyes alert, they drank and drank their fill.

  Ephraim trapped several fish in a pool and flipped them onto the bank, where Salmon had built a small fire. After cleaning them, Salmon roasted the fish on a stick. Salmon had never eaten anything but manna and found the fish a new and interesting taste to his palate. Replete, they saw a Canaanite shepherd bring his flock of goats to drink downstream. The man glanced their way, then drove his flock west.

  “He’s afraid of strangers,” Ephraim said.

  “The fear of the Lord is upon the land.” Exhaustion caught up with them. Salmon stretched out on his back, a soft blanket of grass beneath him. He could hardly keep his eyes open. “Our days in the wilderness are almost over.” He filled his lungs with the rich, fragrant scent of the land. The sky was cerulean with wisps of white. Oh, Lord, my God, You are bringing us home to a land You have prepared for us. You have laid out this gift before us. Give us the courage to take it. Closing his eyes, Salmon drifted off to sleep while listening to the stream of living water.

  And as he did so, he dreamed of a beautiful woman peering down at him from a window, her luxurious, curly black hair rippling in the wind.

  * * *

  Rahab saw Cabul and the king’s men returning late the next afternoon, while the gates were still open. Even from a distance, they looked weary and defeated. She drew back so Cabul wouldn’t see her as he passed below her window, heading for the gate.

  “Rahab!”

  She ignored him. She hoped he wouldn’t come and question her or seek solace in her company. She wanted no further discourse with the fellow. The king had summoned her yesterday, and she had repeated her lie about the spies and her directions to his men. He believed her, and that had been the end of it.

  Later that evening, Cabul knocked at her door. Hiding her fear, she opened the door long enough to find out if the king had thought the matter over further and become suspicious. When Cabul made it clear he had come for personal reasons, she told him she was ill and needed to be alone. It was no pretense. She was sick—sick of him, sick of the life she led, sick at the realization that everyone in this city would be dead soon because of their stubborn hearts and stiff-necked pride. She did not rejoice that destruction would come upon them, but she wanted to separate herself from them. She wanted to close herself in and stand at the window, waiting for her deliverance.

  But there were others to consider, others to protect.

  She let another night pass. On the third day, she ventured out of her house to shop in the marketplace, where she knew her father would be selling dried dates, raisins, and parched grains. When she approached him, he smiled briefly before returning his full attention to a patron standing at the booth. Her heart softened, for her father had never condemned her for the choices she made. Groveling for a living himself, he’d understood her reasons and never stopped loving her. Her mother had had grand hopes for her when the king had summoned her to his bed, but she’d put too much confidence in her daughter’s physical beauty. Rahab had had no such illusions. Men were fickle, especially when they held positions of power, and she hadn’t expected the affair to last long. She’d only hoped it would last long enough for her to make a place for herself in the king’s service. It had, and now she had a livelihood and could help provide for her family—when their pride would allow it.

  Neither her father nor her brothers had condemned her when she entered the king’s chamber. Nor did they pity her when she left the king’s house. They’d treated her with sad tolerance, until she showed she could manage independence and prosperity beyond their own. She’d been the one able to give money whenever it was needed, and she’d always made sure her mother, sisters, and sisters-in-law shared in the gifts she received from patrons. She’d never done so out of a feeling of compulsion or pride but out of love for them.

  “How goes the day for you, my daughter?”

  “It is a day of hope, Father.”

  “Hope is a good thing. Come and sit with an old man and tell me what news you’ve heard these past weeks.” He set two stools out and sat on one, gesturing for her to take the other.

  Rahab watched him rub his leg. The years of hard work showed on him, and he seemed to be in more pain today. But he would not thank her for mentioning it. “How is Mother?”

  “In her glory, tending three grandchildren while your sisters beat and strip the flax.”

  “And my brothers?”

  “At work on the ramparts.”

  No wonder he was rubbing his leg and pinched with pain. “You’ve been climbing the date palms again.” What choice had he if the king summoned her brothers to work on the wall defenses and left an old man to carry the work of his sons?

  “I’ve been training a grandson.”

  “Oh, Father. You’re lucky you haven’t broken your neck!”

  “The king is in greater need than I.”

  “He can add all the fortifications in the world, and they won’t help.”

  His hand stopped rubbing and his head came up. “The Israelites have settled in Shittim,” he said.

  “Not for much longer.”

  “No?”

  “No. The Lord has given them this land.”

  His eyes flickered as he studied her face. “I heard that spies entered the city several nights ago.”

  “By now, they will have given their report.”

  His eyes filled with fear. “Did you help them get away?”

  She leaned forward and took his gnarled hands in hers. “I have seen the truth, Father. I know what’s going to happen, the only thing that can happen. But I can’t talk about it here. Come to my house before you leave the city. I have news that will give our family cause to celebrate.”

  His hands were cold as they tightened on hers. He searched her eyes. “What have you done, Daughter?”

  “It’s what will be done for us, provided we act in good faith. Come tonight and I’ll tell you everything.”

  “They will come against Jericho?


  “Yes, Father, and they will destroy it.” She stood and leaned down to kiss his cheek. “But our salvation is at hand.”

  * * *

  Rahab’s father brought her two brothers with him. She greeted them warmly and seated them on cushions set around a low table. She poured wine for them and encouraged them to eat.

  “I’m not hungry,” Mizraim said tersely. “Father said you summoned us.”

  “It wouldn’t hurt to eat while we talk.”

  “Should we have an appetite when the Israelites are camped across the Jordan?”

  Her youngest brother, Jobab, afraid and angry, looked up at her. “Father said you took in the spies. What possessed you to risk everything we’ve worked for? If the king finds out—”

  “The king knows the spies were here at my house,” she said, seeing three faces blanch. “He sent soldiers to take them, and I told his men they’d already left the city.”

  “Then they must have escaped,” Mizraim said. “If they’d been captured, their bodies would be hanging on the wall by now.”

  Rahab smiled. “They weren’t captured, because I hid them on my roof.”

  “You . . . what?” her father said weakly.

  “I hid them, and then I let them down from my window and told them to hide in the hill country for three days before crossing the Jordan.”

  Her father and brothers stared at her. Mizraim came to his feet. “By the gods, what have you done to us?”

  Jobab held his head in despair. “We’ll all be destroyed for your treason.”

  “I’ve chosen the side that offers life,” Rahab said.

  “Life?” Mizraim said, his face red with anger. “You don’t know what you’re talking about! What of us? Are we not able to choose?”

  She restrained her anger. How many times had she come to the aid of her family, and Mizraim could still accuse her so? “That’s why you’re here.” She set the jug of wine firmly in the middle of the table and sat with them. “Years ago, Father, you met an Israelite spy in the palm grove. You said you could see in his eyes that he would return.”

  “They did return and were defeated.”

  “Yes, but they came back without the Ark of their God. Isn’t that what you told me?”

  “Yes.” Her father frowned, thinking back. “And Moses didn’t lead them.”

  “I’ve heard Moses is dead,” Mizraim said, taking a seat again.

  “Do you think that matters?” Rahab was determined to make them understand that the arrangements she had made with the spies were their only chance for survival. “For all his greatness, Moses was only a man. It is the God of all creation who protects these people. The first time they came into the land, they entered like a band of thieves scattered across the ridges of the hill country. They were defeated because God was not with them. This time the Israelites stand together. There’s a new generation of Israelites out there across the river. They’re waiting for their God to instruct them. Do not speak, Mizraim! Listen to what I’m telling you. When the time is right, the Israelites will cross the Jordan, and they will be victorious.”

  “They’ll never take Jericho,” Mizraim said, picking up his cup of wine. “I’ve been working on fortifications since the last full moon. You know yourself how tall and wide these walls are. No army can break through them!”

  “You boast, but I see the fear in your eyes.” She was not cowed by his angry glare. “What are these walls to a God who can part the seas? We’ve all heard the stories. God laid waste to Egypt with ten plagues. He spoke through Moses, and a nation was delivered from slavery. He opened the Red Sea so the Israelites crossed over on dry land. Have you ever heard of such power? Truly, He is God, the only God. You must know this! I’ve always told you everything I’ve heard. Think on what you know. Why else do you think our people quake in terror? You, among them.”

  “But this is our land!” Jobab said. “They have no right to it! We built these walls! We planted the crops and built the houses! Our father’s father and his father before him harvested dates from the palm grove just beyond these walls!”

  She wanted to shake them all. “We’ve bowed down to the baals all these years, thinking they were the owners of the land. But this land belongs to the God out there, and He’s going to take it.” She gave a bleak laugh. “Do you think we’ll be safe because we’ve sacrificed to statues we carved and molded? What power have they over the elements?” She sneered. “They’ve never been anything more than mindless, heartless stone and clay idols.” She slammed the palm of her hand on the table. “Well, now, the true landlord has revealed Himself. The God of the Israelites owns the land. He owns the palm trees and terebinths and grapevines; He owns the bees that make the honey; He owns the locusts that destroyed Egypt! Everything is His, and He can give the land and all that’s on it to whomever He chooses. And He has chosen those people across the river in Shittim!”

  They sat in stunned silence. Her father looked up at her. She could see he was trembling. “This is the news we came to hear, Daughter?”

  “We should gather our families and have a feast together,” Jobab said dismally. “We’ll lace the wine with hemlock and be spared the agony of being hacked to pieces by the swords of Israel.”

  “Bravely spoken,” Mizraim said in disgust.

  “We will live,” Rahab said.

  Mizraim picked up his cup of wine again. “How? The Israelites leave no survivors.”

  “I helped the spies escape, and they’ve promised to spare our lives when they take the city!”

  “And you believed them?” Mizraim said. “Everyone knows they annihilate every living thing.”

  “They swore an oath to me.”

  “An oath is no better than the man who swears it!”

  Rahab tipped her chin. “I know that better than you, my brother. I’ve had dealings with men since I was a girl.”

  “And brought shame upon us for it.”

  Her father slammed his fist on the table. “You’ll listen to your sister! She is older than you and wiser in the world than all of us.”

  Mizraim winced and lowered his head.

  “They were strangers,” her father said. “Why should you trust them?”

  “I asked the men to promise by the Lord, and they did so. Would any man dare swear a vain oath before this God? If they fail to keep their word, they’ll answer to Him for it.”

  “Not that it’ll matter much to us,” Jobab said, still gloomy. “We’ll be dead.”

  Rahab reached out and put her hand over her brother’s. “You must decide where to place your faith, Jobab. You can have faith in the king of Jericho, who is but a man. Or you can put your faith in the King of Kings, the God of Israel. It’s true, I don’t know these men who came as spies, and I’ve only heard the stories about the Lord. But I believe what I’ve heard. Each time I heard of Him, I’ve experienced a quickening inside me, an assurance. I can’t explain it any more than that, but I know this is God, the only God, and I’ve chosen to put my faith and hope in Him.” She leaned back, looking at them. “You must decide for yourselves whether you choose life or death.”

  “We choose life,” her father answered for them.

  “We have one chance,” Rahab said, “and that chance rests in the Lord God of Israel.” Her heart beat strongly with excitement and thanksgiving. “We must make provisions for the days ahead. When the Israelites rescue us, we don’t want to go to them empty-handed. Sell sparingly in the marketplace, Father, and bring most of the grain, raisins, and dates here. I’ll store them so that we have food when the siege begins and gifts for later.” She nodded toward the far corner. “I’ve purchased a large storage jar for water, and I’ve gone to the spring each day in order to fill it. Have my sisters fill skins so there will be water enough for everyone.”

  She rose and went to the window, looking out toward the desert. “We’ll make ourselves ready now. Have your possessions packed and ready to move. Stay girded and keep your weapon beside you a
t all times. When the Israelites cross the river, gather your wives and children and come here to my house.” She turned. “Waste no time. We must separate ourselves from everyone in this city, for they are all marked for destruction. The two men from God promised me that everyone who’s inside my house will live. Anyone outside it will perish.”

  Her father leaned forward, clasping his hands on the table. “There are a dozen windows in the wall, Rahab. How will the Israelites know this house from all the rest?”

  Smiling, she lifted the crimson rope she’d tied in her window. “They will know us by this sign, and death will pass us by.”

  “There are twenty of us, Rahab. How’re you going to make room for all of us and the provisions we’ll need to survive?”

  “Oh, Mizraim, you worry about so many things. You worry about what you’re going to eat and where you’re going to sleep. Only one thing is necessary. Obey the instructions we’ve been given! If you want to live, pack your belongings and come to my house.” She smiled. “And in your haste, don’t forget to bring Basemath and the children with you.”

  * * *

  After three days, Salmon and Ephraim left the hill country and crossed the Jordan. Stripping off the Amorite garments, they donned their own clothing and ran the rest of the way to Shittim, where they found Joshua and Caleb together.

  “The Lord will certainly give us the whole land,” Ephraim said, panting heavily, “for all the people in the land are terrified of us!”

  “Be at ease and rest.” Joshua nodded for them to sit close to the fire. He was calm, his gaze steady, as though nothing they told him had changed anything.

  Salmon’s excitement was roaring within him so that he felt he could run through the entire camp, shouting the news to the thousands who waited to go into battle. “The land is ours, and it’s rich beyond anything we’ve ever imagined! God has kept His promise. The hearts of the Canaanites have melted before the power of the Lord.”

  “A harlot in Jericho told us,” Ephraim said, still breathing hard.

  A harlot. Salmon didn’t like the way Ephraim described Rahab.