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“Easy, let it come. It’s better this way.”
Tamar stepped slightly back as my vomit splashed to the ground. “Have you never seen a man die?”
Her question brought another wave of retching. “Just like Shimon. Didn’t see it coming…” My eyes and nose ran, tears mingled with the mess in the dirt. A deep flicker appeared in Tamar’s eyes as I choked out Shimon’s name. “Ariel slit his throat like a sheep.”
“Better they than we. Shed no tears for their blood, Lev.”
I gagged out the last of my Shabbat bread, then drew an unsteady breath. “It didn’t have to be. They didn’t see us. Had we let them pass, they would never be the wiser.”
“Perhaps, but what blow would they strike tomorrow? In war, you strike when the enemy is at hand, or else you bring blood upon your own head. Did your father not teach you this?”
I went cold at her question. Still shaking, I straightened to face her. “My father was dead before I knew him.”
“He may yet live on in you if you will it. Your father taught many whom he never knew. I come from the north, but I knew his name. If you cannot take his counsel, then hear mine—war is not a time for mercy.”
My trembling calmed as she spoke. “These men weren’t soldiers, they were priests.”
“So much the worse. Soldiers may kill their thousands, but priests of the Baal will take tens of thousands if not uprooted.”
I knew the truth of what she said, but the hard reality of her actions still turned my stomach. It didn’t fit with the soft look in her eye as she watched my face. My thoughts turned to the drunk men who passed us, laughing in the night. Had the priests done anything to them which merited murder?
Her eyes never left mine as she answered. “Know this, Lev—those who are merciful to the cruel bring cruelty upon the merciful.” Tamar handed me a waterskin, and I rinsed the filth from my mouth. My breath came steady now, and my heart beat softly in my chest. As we stood in silence, my worries returned—the attack had cost us precious time. By the time Pinchas and Ariel rejoined us, the moon’s silver disc was almost directly above our heads. There was no longer any hope of reaching the cave before daybreak.
Without exchanging a word, we followed Pinchas south on the road. The walls of Dotan appeared as a shadow in the distance, lit by the grey dawn. “If we hurry,” I said, “we can pass the city and be on the trail to the prophets’ cave before they open the gates.”
Pinchas frowned at me. “Is there no guard watching the road?”
“There was one last night, but I expect he was an Israelite.”
The prophet raised an eyebrow. “You believe we have nothing to fear from an Israelite guard?”
“The King has not allowed them to enter the fighting. On either side.”
Pinchas gave a mirthless laugh. “Loyalty to his King is not a man’s only motivation.”
“You fear he may be loyal to the Baal as well?”
“To the Baal?” He shrugged. “None can say. Certainly, he is loyal to his pocket.”
“Meaning what?”
Now it was Ariel’s turn to laugh. “The Queen spends more treasure than blood in her search for the prophets.”
“You think a man of Israel would sell us to the Queen?”
“He well may,” Pinchas said. “This is Dotan, after all.”
Pinchas’ tone allowed for no argument, but I didn’t grasp his point. “What’s wrong with Dotan?”
He stopped and faced me. “Do you not know what happened in Dotan?”
I shook my head. There were so many massacres, so much secrecy. Had the Queen attacked another group of prophets right here?
“This…,” his outstretched hand quivered as he pointed at the city, “was where Joseph’s brothers sold him into slavery.”
“Joseph’s brothers?” I had heard the story many times from Uncle Menachem. “That was hundreds of years ago.”
Pinchas nodded. “Almost a thousand.”
“What does that have to do with the Queen?”
“Boy,” now he turned his finger on me, “know that every handbreadth of this land cries out with the blood and memories of our people. If you believe the events of a thousand years ago are irrelevant to us now, you might as well join forces with Izevel. Those who feel as you do believe she will prevail. As for us, we will go around Dotan.”
I bit my lip. It was already too late to get the prophets hidden before daylight. At least if we raced past Dotan, we could reach the trail to the cave before the gates opened, and we might have a chance of making it back without being seen.
What should I do? To hide them before it became light and come back when darkness fell again would mean another sleepless night. Plus, more hours away from helping with the bread. Still, it might have been the best option if not for the dead priests. Once their charred bodies were discovered, the search for their killers would begin.
That left only one choice—to reach the cave in daylight. That meant we had to get off the King’s Road. I waved the prophets after me as I stepped into the furrowed field which lay on the opposite side of the road from Dotan. Green stalks of ankle high barley covered the ground, and I winced as we trampled our way forward. My uncle had raised me to never cross a planted field, but the lives of three prophets were in my hands. Besides, I saw no stream or spring nearby. Unless Eliyahu relented soon, these stalks would never see the harvest.
When the sun poked above the horizon, we were well out of view, but my path through the fields wandered as I lost sight of the road. Pinchas sensed my confusion. “Is that the path to the cave?” he asked, pointing ahead.
It was a hard-packed trail, but I had not managed to get a good look at our path in the blackness of the night. “I’m not certain.”
“You do not know your way?”
It was more of an accusation than a question, and I swallowed my first reply. If they had followed as I asked, we would have been safe in the cave by now. “I marked the trailhead, not the middle of the path. Stay here, and I’ll investigate.”
I walked toward the King’s Road. A young shepherd watched his flock graze along the roadside, as I had done so many times. I ignored the feeding animals and headed for the olive tree at the junction. I reached into the knot and retrieved Yissachar’s pebble.
Satisfied, I settled myself at the foot of the tree with my back against its trunk. I would wait until the flock passed. The shepherd was just a boy, but I didn’t want him to see me double back the way I had come. It would strike him as curious that I would walk to the road merely to turn around again, and was sure to stick in his mind. No one knew better than I that shepherd boys were not as harmless as they appeared.
Tamar lagged behind on the trail to the cave. I knew she must be exhausted, so I slowed for her to catch up, but to no avail. As we dropped our pace, she slowed hers to match.
Peleh stood aside as we entered, and I paused for his greeting. All we received was a silent bow, though there was a twinkle in his eye as he stood upright. The prophets gathered in the main cavern to greet the newcomers. Yissachar stepped forward first, followed by Uriel and the other masters. Pinchas embraced each one in turn and introduced Ariel as his disciple.
Only one person did not join the reunion. Tamar stood just inside the entrance, her hood pulled forward over her face. After releasing Pinchas, Yissachar approached her. “Welcome, Tamar haneviah.” He bowed, his palms held upward.
She bowed her head in response, but did not speak. Nor did she move any deeper into the cave.
Yissachar turned back to Pinchas. “You must be weary from your journey.”
“Indeed,” Pinchas replied. “We have not slept in three days.”
“Our home here lacks many things,” Yissachar said, “but for resting it is unparalleled. Come, let us find you a place.”
Pinchas and Ariel followed Yissachar into the cave, but Tamar did not move.
My eyelids hung heavy from one night without sleep. How could Tamar stand arrow straight if she had gone without for three? “The caverns are vast,” I said to her, “there is room for you to rest as well.”
She shook her head once. “This is the realm of the prophets.”
“You are a prophet.”
“I am a prophetess.”
The yearning for sleep weighed upon my whole body, and my mat called to me from my master’s cave. Still, the prophets ignored her needs. “Yes, you are a prophetess. There is room for all. There is nowhere else to sleep.”
“The world is wide and offers many places to lay one’s head. This is the realm of the prophets. I will seek my rest elsewhere.”
“You are hunted,” I protested. “Shomron is close at hand here, not like it was in the north.”
“I am a prophetess.” It seemed this was her only answer.
“You think you are safe from the Queen and her soldiers, that they will have mercy because you are a woman?”
Tamar threw back her hood, and I flinched at the fire in her eyes. “Foolish boy. If I were not so sure you speak in ignorance, I would strike you. I should do so anyway, for the sake of the lesson.”
My face flushed, and I was glad the cavern was dimly lit. “I…I apologize, prophetess.”
“I expect no mercy from Izevel nor any man, hers or otherwise. I’ve never seen savagery like that of the Tzidonian soldiers. At least the prophets died quickly.”
“Then why do you refuse a place to rest? No one here would deny you sanctuary.”
“Deny me?” Her face was hard, but I saw the sadness in her eyes. “No, no one will deny me. Neither do they wish for my presence.” She drew her hood back over her face. “You are young, Lev, but you are almost a man. Have your thoughts never turned to a woman?”
Now I was doubly grateful for the dim light. I turned away from her gaze as Dahlia’s face rose in my mind.
“There is no need to be embarrassed. It is the way of life. But a man cannot encompass two desires at once. Moses separated from his wife to always stand ready for prophecy. These prophets too have wives, but when they gather, they gather alone.”
The first time I ever saw a man bake bread was at the gathering in Emek HaAsefa. I thought it strange at the time, but only now did I realize that not a single woman had entered the valley during the time I was there. Now I was the one helping to bake the bread. The thought of the oven brought my eyes to my hands.
The glance was not lost upon Tamar. “Where did you get those burns?”
“Baking bread for the prophets,” I replied.
Tamar pulled a small vial from beneath her robe. “Hold out your hand.” She poured a single drop of oil onto my fingertips. “Now rub that in.” I rubbed my fingers together, and a coolness passed over my hands. “I bless you to find your true calling Lev, for baking bread is surely not it.”
“No, but I’m getting better.”
Her
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