Daughter of Deliverance (9 page)

Moses' hand trembled as he wrote the words.

On and on went the terrible words of the Lord, and Moses' hands kept trembling as he wrote it upon the parchment with a rush dipped in blue fish ink. His whole body was drenched in sweat. He lifted his hands in agony. “I can do no more! I cannot bear the thought of Israel being ground under the feet of God!”

Moses wept and then after a long time he prayed, “God, give me some hope that I may give it to your people.”

For a long time it was silent. Then God spoke again. Moses picked up his stylus and began to write to the people.

Moses continued writing under the direction of God, but finally he rose up and put away the writing equipment, the ink and the stylus, and the parchment. He put the parchment with others upon which he had let the ink dry, and now he gathered them all together, holding them with trembling hands. These were the records God had given him. Even going back to the story of Adam and Eve and tracing the history of God's dealing with men. This holy book that Moses had written with his own hand would perish, but he had trained the scribes of Israel to make copies of his work and to take monumental efforts to keep the text exactly as God had given it to Moses himself.

“Oh, Israel, your hope must be in this book, for it alone tells us how our God should be worshiped and served.”

For a long moment he hesitated, then turned and left the tent. He found Joshua and Caleb waiting outside and noticed that both of them were pale. He smiled and handed the book to Joshua. “Joshua, be strong and anchor Israel to the book. My time has come, and I must leave you.”

Both Joshua and Caleb began to weep. Moses extended his arms and embraced them both. He was still a powerful, strong man, though a hundred twenty years old. He held them tightly and said, “My time is over, but your time is just beginning.”

Joshua cried out, “Moses, my master, my teacher, I cannot bear the thought!”

“Every man serves God in his own generation. As our father Abraham did and our father Isaac and our father Jacob, so I have tried to serve the great and almighty Jehovah. Now, know of the special love I have had for you two.” For a long time Moses stayed with the two men, encouraging them, until he stopped and said, “I must go.”

“Let me go with you, master,” Joshua cried.

“You are the new leader of Israel. One day you will join me, but now it is time for me to go meet with my God.”

Moses turned from the two and left. Once he glanced back at the tabernacle, but he felt very low when he saw it, so he set his face and turned away.

The entire congregation of Israel had gathered as Moses made his way, and cries went up from all the people, but Moses did not stop. He headed straight toward Mount Pisgah, and there the eye of every man and woman and young person in Israel watched as he ascended the mountain. The sunlight was pouring down in golden beams, and Joshua, Caleb, the high priest, and all the tribes watched as the powerful figure grew smaller.

Joshua was trembling, for he knew what lay before him, and he wanted to cry out and run after the man who had been his master for so many years. But he knew he must not. At last the figure disappeared in the distance so that even the keenest-eyed Israelite could not see him.

And then Joshua turned to Caleb, tears streaming down his face. “Never again,” he whispered, “will we see a man like Moses!”

Achan was running his stubby fingers over a cloth when Ardon appeared. Under his breath he muttered, “How unpleasant Ardon looks.”

Othniel, who had just finished eating, was sitting cross-legged, his back against the tent pole. The weather was fine, so the sides of the tent were up, and he had been simply enjoying doing nothing. At Achan's words he straightened up, got to his feet, and nodded. “Hello, Ardon. Good to see you.”

Ardon stopped and gave Achan a brief glance, then put his eyes on Othniel. “I'm going to trade with those Amalachites at their village. We're running low on grain. We need more for making bread.”

“Do you want me to go with you?”

“No, but I want you to behave yourself while I'm gone. Stay away from women.”

Othniel's face flushed and he said nothing, only nodded.

“You'd better be careful,” Achan said. “I've done some trading with them—just a week ago, as a matter of fact. They'll steal your eye teeth if you're not careful.”

“I'll see to it they don't.”

Both Achan and Othniel watched as Ardon turned abruptly and strode away.

“My, he's an unpleasant fellow!” Achan exclaimed.

“He's all right. He's just serious.”

“He takes his religion far too seriously if you ask me.”

“That's a good thing. I think you and I could learn from him.”

“No, he could learn from us. You grew up with him and you know him. He wasn't always like this.”

“That's right, he wasn't. He was the best playmate I ever had when we were children—we were just boys together. It was lots of fun. I don't know why he started changing.”

“It happens. He got infected with God.”

Othniel laughed, his teeth white against his bronze skin. “You make religion sound like a sickness. Something you can catch and suffer from.”

“Why, I never thought of it like that, but that's close enough.”

“You're a terrible fellow, Achan,” Othniel said, turning fondly toward his friend. “I don't know what's going to become of you.”

“I'm going to do well enough. I'm a good trader. I know how to do the other fellow before he does me.”

“Do you think that's honest?”

“Of course it's honest. Let him watch out for himself. That's what I say when I trade with people. Of course, I don't say that to their faces.” Achan grinned broadly, his smooth face beaming. “You and I have got the right idea about religion. Ardon spends too much time with the priests and the scribes.”

Something about the conversation made Othniel uneasy. He did not like to hear anybody talk as lightly about God as Achan did. He had a genuine affection for the round little man and his family, but he knew Achan's reputation as a sharp trader, and his word was not always good. He was not terribly dishonest, but he was still not above taking advantage of people.

“I don't agree with you. I think Ardon's a good man. He does a lot better than I do.”

“Ah, but he's afraid of God. He's afraid if he commits a sin, God'll send down a lightning bolt and kill him.”

“Well, God's done that before. You've heard the history of our people. Remember how the plagues came when we disobeyed God?”

“That was a long time ago. Now me, I have an arrangement with God.”

Othniel stared at Achan. “What do you mean, ‘an arrangement'? How can you have an arrangement with God?”

“Well, I do the best I can, and that's all any man can do.”

“There's something wrong with that kind of thinking. And besides, you don't do the best you can.”

“Well, I do fairly well. I'm no worse than others. God won't strike me down. I'm a sinner, but then we all are, Othniel. After all, we're all God has to work with. A man doesn't live very long,” he said woefully, “so that's why I say eat all you can, drink all you can, enjoy life today. Have the priest make the sacrifices, and that's it.”

“There's got to be more to it than that, Achan.”

“No, there's not. There's only a little deal I've been trying to make with that thief over from the tribe of Benjamin. He thinks he's going to do me in, but I'll show him. And I'll show you how to handle life so you get the most out of it!”

****

Ardon made poor time. The sun was nearly down by the time he got to the Amalachite village. He had brought only a dozen sheep, but that was because sheep were hard to drive. They were prone to wander, and now he kicked one of them with irritation, yelling, “Get on! You're the stupidest sheep I ever saw, and that goes for the rest of you!”

Ardon laughed at himself. “I must be going crazy talking to sheep. Everybody knows they're the stupidest animals in the world.”

As he approached the village, he saw a figure coming toward him, and his eyes narrowed. It was a young woman with jet-black hair and dark, lustrous eyes. She wore the garb of the desert people, which was a simple frock, and he saw that she was wearing rings on all her fingers and one in her nose.

“Greetings, stranger,” she said. “You're out late.”

“It's been a hard trip. I'm trying to find Abib.”

“That's my father. He's the chief of this village. My name is Keli.”

“I'm here to trade with your father.”

“I'll take you to him. Have you had a long journey?”

The young woman strolled along beside Ardon. The sun was casting its reddish beams down, and Ardon saw that she was well-formed and had a ready smile. He compared all women with his sister Ariel, and he realized what he had not realized before, that this woman, even though she came from a wild tribe, was a rose of the desert. He found himself speaking easily with her. She had a free and easy way about her. When they arrived at the village, she introduced him to her father.

Abib was a tall, rangy man with the same black hair as his daughter and piercing black eyes. “You are welcome, sir,” he said. “You will eat with us—a humble meal to be sure, but we welcome you.”

Abib was courteous enough, and the meal they sat down to was well done. “Your wife is a good cook.”

“I lost my wife two years ago. I haven't taken another yet. My daughter takes care of me. She is a good cook.”

“I could fry up leather and you'd think it was good,” Keli said, laughing.

“She's too modest,” Abib said. “Now, everyone's curious about your people. We've heard that Moses has left you—Moses your great leader is gone.”

“That's true enough. Joshua is now our commander.”

“We have heard of him. He's a mighty warrior. Do you think you will stay in this country?”

The question was asked cautiously, and Ardon was aware that Abib, like all the other dwellers in this land, were fearful of the Israelites.

“You're in no danger, Abib. We'll be crossing the Jordan and moving into the land of Canaan very soon.”

Abib stared at him. “That's a tall order. There are walled cities over there, and they don't take kindly to strangers.”

“God has told us that the land will belong to us.”

“What about the people that own it now?” Abib asked.

“They don't own it any longer. God has given it to us.”

The young woman had not eaten with the men. That was not customary, but she was bringing a fresh plate of sugared dates, which she set before them. “Will our guest stay the night, Father?”

“Of course!”

“I will fix him a place out in the stable.”

“That would be kind of you,” Ardon said.

The young woman left, and Abib fired questions one after another. He was a keen-witted man, his wit sharpened by the hard life in this country. At last he said cautiously, “Tell me a little more about your god. They say you believe he is the true god.”

“He is the God of all gods,” Ardon said firmly. “He delivered our people from slavery, from bondage in Egypt. He promised our father Abraham that He would give us a land flowing with milk and honey, and now we're about to re- ceive it.”

Abib listened as Ardon traced the history of the Hebrews. It was a fascinating history, but at last he said, “You're weary, I'm sure, after your journey. We will agree on the terms tomorrow, but your animals are fine and we have plenty of grain, so there will be no problem.”

The men got to their feet, and Abib added, “Keli, show our friend to his bed for the night.”

“Yes, Father.”

The two men bowed to each other, and Ardon followed the young woman outside. She led him to a spacious outbuilding, and when they stepped inside, she said, “Visitors often sleep here. This will be your bed.”

“Thank you, Keli.”

“You're welcome, sir.” She smiled and waited for him to speak. When he said good night, she bowed low, then left the stables.

Ardon was not tired. He paced back and forth, thinking of what the future held. His mind was filled with the promises of God. He had studied every word that God had given Moses about the land they were to inhabit. But God had made it very clear that it would not be handed to them on a platter. They would have to fight for it. Ardon had devoted a tremendous amount of time studying what little information he could learn about the land. He had spoken with those who had actually been there, and he and his father had plotted, as well as they could, on how the land could be taken.

Eventually he sat down on a bench that was covered with a mat filled with straw. His mind was occupied with the problems that lay ahead for his people when the young woman entered again. She had a finely woven blanket in her hand. “It gets cold at night. I thought you might need this.”

“That was thoughtful of you.” Ardon took the blanket and smiled at her. To his surprise, she sat down beside him on the bed.