Unashamed (4 page)

Joshua’s eyes glowed. He leaned forward. “Then here are your instructions. Spy out the land on the other side of the Jordan River, especially around Jericho. See what defenses they have in place. Discern the mood of the people.”

Fear caught Salmon unaware, but he set his mind against it. “When do you want me to leave?”

“Within the hour. Caleb is giving instructions to Ephraim.” Joshua raised his hand. “I can see you’re ready to grab your sword and go now, but hear me out. Other than Caleb and Ephraim, no one knows you’re leaving camp. You’ll be going in secret. You’re young and on fire, my son, but you must be coolheaded and wise as a serpent. Do not stroll into the city like a conqueror. Keep your head down. Seek out an establishment that will know the mind of the people. Blend in. Keep your eyes and ears open. The battlements aren’t as important as what the Jerichoans are thinking. Find out everything you can, and then get out of there as quickly as possible. Waste no time. Do you understand?”

“Yes, commander.”

Joshua took the bundle he’d set aside and placed it between them. “Amorite clothing and a weapon.”

The clothing had undoubtedly been taken from the body of a vanquished foe, for Salmon saw a stain of blood. He knew he would have to be careful when wearing the tunic. It would be difficult for him to blend in naturally among Jerichoans if anyone saw that stain. Anyone looking at it would know the last man who wore the garment had died a violent death. He would have to wear a mantle to cover it.

Joshua rose. Salmon sprang to his feet. Joshua turned before going out, put his hand on Salmon’s shoulder, and gripped him strongly. “May the Lord watch over you and keep you safe!”

“Blessed be the name of the Lord.”

Releasing him, Joshua swept the tent flap aside, stooped, and went out. Salmon held the flap open long enough to watch Joshua disappear among the other tents of Israel. Letting it drop back into place, he let out his breath sharply and dropped to his knees. Throwing back his head, Salmon closed his eyes and raised his hands, thanking God for this opportunity to serve. Then he prostrated himself and prayed for the wisdom and courage to complete the task.

Ω
     
Ω
     
Ω

By moonlight, Salmon and Ephraim girded their loins by drawing up the backs of their tunics and tucking them into their belts. Thus unencumbered, they ran, reaching the eastern bank of the Jordan well before daybreak. Gasping for breath, Salmon dumped his bundle on the ground, grasped his tunic, and hauled it up over his head.

“The river looks swift,” Ephraim said, stripping off his clothing and catching the Amorite tunic Salmon tossed him.

Swollen by spring floods, the river rose over its banks. And Ephraim was right—the current was swift.

Salmon shrugged into the Amorite tunic. He nodded toward a sloping bank as he strapped on a leather belt. “We’ll go in down there and start swimming.”

Ephraim’s mouth curved sardonically. “I hate to mention this now, friend, but I don’t know how to swim.”

Salmon laughed mirthlessly. “And you think I do? The desert hasn’t exactly afforded us much opportunity to learn, has it?”

“So what are we going to do?”

“Cross over. Stop worrying. If God wills, we’ll make it.”

“And if not, we’ll drown,” Ephraim said flatly.

“Do you think the Lord has brought us this far to let us be defeated?”

Ephraim watched the river. “I’d feel better if I had a tree trunk to hang on to.”

“The Lord will uphold us.” Salmon spoke with more conviction than he felt.
Give me courage, Lord.
“Fill your lungs with air, keep your arms outstretched, and kick like a frog. The current will carry us.”

“All the way to the Salt Sea.”

Salmon ignored his friend’s grim sense of humor and pointed. “Aim for those willows on the other side.” Tying the sheath to his belt, he jammed his dagger into it. “Let’s go.”

Despite his bravado, fear shot through Salmon as the river’s current tugged hard at his legs. Overcoming his fear, he waded into the Jordan until the water was to his waist. Perhaps he could make it this way, one step at a time, using his own physical strength to keep himself on his feet. But the next step proved he couldn’t. He slipped on some slick rocks and lost his footing. Panic gripped him as he was sucked into the current. He was pulled under briefly, but he fought his way up long enough to fill his lungs with air. His body rolled and turned, spun back. He hit something hard and almost lost his breath. Salmon fought his fear and the river, as the spring flood carried him along.

He saw the trees and kicked hard. Clawing the water, he used the current to steer his body. He kept his neck arched and stiff so that his head was above the water and he could breathe and see where he was going. He heard a shout behind him but didn’t have time to turn and see if Ephraim was doing any better than he. Making a lunge for an overhanging branch, he caught hold. Reaching up, he got a better grip and looked back. Ephraim was still standing on the far bank.

“Come on!” Salmon called to him.

Ephraim entered the river with obvious uneasiness. Stretching out his arms, he went in face first. Seeing how fast Ephraim was swept along, Salmon stretched out his body as far as possible so that his friend could reach his ankle. “Grab hold!”

Ephraim succeeded, but the jolt almost yanked Salmon free. His body swung hard around and jerked against the strong pull of the river. Water rippled violently over Ephraim’s head. Clinging to the branch with one hand, Salmon reached down and grasped Ephraim and pulled. “Climb!” Ephraim reached up, his fingers biting into Salmon’s thigh. Pulling himself higher, his head emerged from the rushing water. He gasped for breath. Salmon grabbed Ephraim’s belt and hauled him up farther. Salmon shoved him toward the west bank.

When he made it to shore, Ephraim reached out and gave Salmon a hand and threw himself back as far as he could before the limb broke and toppled into the water. Gaining his footing in the rocky bottom, Salmon slogged his way out of the Jordan and collapsed to his knees. Ephraim was coughing violently.

Chest heaving, Salmon drank in the air. He dug his fingers into the soil and held it up to breathe in the scent of its richness. “The Lord has brought us over,” he said in a voice choked with emotion. They were the first of their generation to set foot in the Promised Land. “The Lord be praised!”

Ephraim was still coughing up murky river water, but he managed to rasp, “May God grant we live long enough to enjoy it.”

“Amen.” Salmon rose. “It won’t be long until daybreak.” He was eager for the mission ahead, anxious to be on the move, but it wouldn’t be wise to arrive wet and muddy from the river—or too early in the day, making them appear anxious to enter the city. Hunkering down by the Jordan, he washed. “If we hurry, we can make it to the palms before full daylight.”

“Just give me a few minutes to rest, will you?”

“We’ve no time to waste. Rest while we walk!”

As they crossed the arid stretch of land west of the Jordan and gained the road, the sun rose behind them. Even from a distance of several miles, the lush green spring-fed oasis was visible, as were the high, thick walls of the City of Palms that blocked entrance into Canaan. Salmon’s heart sank. These walls were so immense, they would be insurmountable by frontal attack. Nor could they be taken from the west, for behind the walled city was a towering backbone of steep, jagged mountains. “The city is well situated.”

“And impregnable. How will we ever conquer such a city? Never has there been such a stronghold!”

Speechless, Salmon studied the walls. They were at least six times the height of any man, and there were battlements on both sides of the gate. Guards standing watch would see an army coming from miles away, giving them plenty of time to close the gates and prepare for battle.

Would Joshua have them build ladders to scale these walls? How many would die in setting them up and keeping them in place until enough soldiers could get over the wall? Could those immense gates be smashed or burned? How many would die in the battle for this city? Thousands! Would he be one of them—if he didn’t die here today, on this mission?

“May God protect us from such an end,” Salmon said under his breath.

“What should we do now?” Ephraim said. “Join the throng waiting for the gates to open?”

“We’ll wait until late in the day. Better if we aren’t inspected too closely. The guards will be less attentive then.”

They found a grassy place not far from a spring-fed stream and slept in the shade of the City of Palms.

AT
first glance, Rahab dismissed the two men as Amorite soldiers carrying a message to the king. But as they came closer, she noticed their interest in the walls. The men, who carried no packs or parcels, seemed grim as they spoke to one another, watchful of the guard towers. Even more telling was their complete disinterest in her. Soldiers, even those on a serious mission, invariably looked for women of her calling. They were always eager for a comfortable night’s lodging, food, drink, and fleshly pleasures whenever they could get them. Amorite soldiers were especially lustful and profane.

Ah, the men had spotted her. “Hello, my fine friends!” she called, smiling and waving. They turned their faces away. Odd. They were young, but not so young they should be embarrassed by a woman’s attentions.

Or had that been disgust on their faces? An uncomfortable feeling curled in the pit of her stomach. It had been years since she had felt shame or the desire to cover her face and hide. Not since the first few weeks she had been in the king’s company. No matter what her father had said, she knew in her heart that what was being done to her was wrong, and for her to take advantage of it was even worse. It had been a confusing time, a time of degradation and elevation. But no one had dared openly look down upon a young woman chosen by the king. She had been treated with deference during her months in the palace. And with time, she had learned to hide her feelings. She had learned to hold her head up and walk like a queen, even though every prospect of having an honorable future had been stripped from her.

In spite of her discomfort—or perhaps even because of it—her interest in the two men increased. She was certain they were not what they appeared to be. True Amorite soldiers would strut and swagger. They would call out lewd suggestions to her and make offers of money. They would boast of their prowess with women.

Were these the Israelite spies she’d hoped would come?

The desert wind came up, swirling dust around the two. The outer garment on the taller man blew open. He snatched the garment closed. But not before she saw the stain he’d quickly hidden.

Her heart leapt. Rahab drew in her breath sharply and leaned forward. She was determined now to gain their attention. No matter how brazen she had to be, she would make them look up at her. She leaned so far out the window that her black curling hair spilled like a dark waterfall against the stone. “You, there!” she shouted. “You two!”

The taller man glanced up, and his face went red. She waved. “I want to welcome you!”

“We’re not interested!”

Clearly, he was displeased with her continued attention. He muttered something to his companion and kept walking.

She wasn’t about to give up, no matter how contemptuous he was of her. “I can’t remember the last time a man tried so hard to ignore me!”

Irritated, he stopped. “We haven’t enough money for your services.”

“Have I set a price?”

He gave a dismissive wave, jerked his head at his companion, who was gawking at her, and strode on.

When had she ever had to talk a man into spending time with her? If she leaned out her window any farther, she’d fall at his feet! “I have cool wine, fresh bread, and a comfortable place for you both to sleep.” When they still ignored her, she tore off her slipper and threw it at them. “Most Amorites call out my name when they approach the gate!” She’d always been the one to ignore
them
, unless the soldier happened to be a commander and held information of interest to the king. Normally she would not have given these ordinary soldiers a second glance, but they were Israelite spies. She knew it. Clearly, they saw her as nothing more than a common harlot plying her trade.

Fear swept through her for their sake. Did they think the guards posted at the gates were fools and wouldn’t see through their disguise? She must get their attention quickly. One look at these wary fellows and the guards would be on top of them, swords drawn. By tomorrow morning, their heads would be lopped off and their bodies tied to the wall!

“Even the king has drunk wine from my cup and eaten bread from my hand!”

The taller one stopped and looked up at her again. “Why do you honor us with your attention?”