LITMIR.BIZ

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in the centre of the city. We have to get somewhere close to the wall, some place the enemy is not really interested in. We have to find a nook where we can hide. If we hold out, there’s still a chance we can flee the city before they raze it to the ground.”

      The woman led them down several streets. It seemed to Rivkah that she wasn’t taking the most direct route. At a corner the woman stopped and peered around the house wall. “Hurry!” She crossed the street and dragged Rivkah into a lane near the city wall. There she chose an old shed and gestured to Rivkah to go in. Then she followed herself, before Kaleb scampered after them. The dirt floor was covered with a thin layer of straw in places. Rivkah thought she could even smell the faint odor of goats, but no animals had been here recently. In one corner stood an old storage jar, while the pieces of a cooking pot were scattered over the floor. A few implements leaned against the walls. What was this handle for? A winnowing fork?

      The house that the shed formed part of seemed deserted. It was near the counterramp the defenders of Lachish had constructed. It appeared as if the house had suffered somewhat from the battle. Rivkah thought she had seen rubble toward the back of the yard before they ducked into the shed. Weren’t there some stray arrows and a sling stone in the lane outside? She could hear the shouts of the Assyrian soldiers only a block away.

      “Why did we come here, so close to the fighting?” she asked, perplexed.

      “They are not fighting here anymore,” the woman assured her. “We’ll be safest here. They won’t look so close to the breach. The battle has passed on.”

      Rivkah sat on the dirt floor, leaning back against the wall. Her eyes closed, she lifted her head, regaining her breath. Feeling the woman looking at her, she opened the eyes and gave her a hesitant glance. The woman smiled back, “Here we are.”

      Rivkah didn’t know what to say, but managed a cautious nod.

      “I am Bath-Shua,” the woman told her. The name didn’t mean anything to Rivkah, though she was sure she had seen the woman many times before. She just didn’t know where and when. Rivkah just muttered yes and looked away. The woman, however, seemed to expect more and spoke again, “And your name, what’s your name, girl?”

      “Rivkah.”

      “The daughter of the blacksmith?”

      “Yes.”

      “I thought so.”

      The woman nodded and lightly brushed the dirt floor with her hand. Did the gesture trigger a memory? Rivkah suddenly thought she knew where she had seen the woman. She did not know why, but somehow the question burst out, “Do you live . . . do you live in the citadel?”

      The woman smiled at her. “The citadel? No, but I am in the citadel quite often. And I do live close to it.”

      Rivkah waited for a further explanation, but there was none. The woman removed the shawl covering her head and combed her hands through her long, silky hair, brushing it back from her face.

      Turning to Rivkah again, she broke the silence. “Well, it seems we’ll have to sit here for a while. We cannot get out of the city now. Maybe later. For the moment we are safe here.”

      Safe? Rivkah could clearly hear the sounds of war. They were not far from danger. How could she feel safe? And yet this woman appeared so confident, so quiet and assured that Rivkah felt less threatened in her presence. The battle noise didn’t overwhelm her. Like the distant rushing of a mighty river, it was present but not drowning out other sounds. She could hear herself breathe, could hear a fly buzzing round Kaleb’s head. He snapped at the irritating insect. It escaped his jaws again and again before it decided to settle in a distant corner of the shed. Satisfied, Kaleb turned his head and licked his fur. After a while he must have felt clean enough, for he stopped and looked at Rivkah. She took both his ears in her hands and rubbed them. “Oh, Kaleb.” The dog edged a bit closer to her and shut his eyes in satisfaction. He opened his mouth and relaxed his lower jaw, revealing a long row of sharp teeth. Rivkah stroked his neck and proceeded to run her hands over his back. Kaleb yawned lazily.

      The woman watched them. “Your dog?”

      “Yes,” Rivkah said, even though Kaleb did not belong to anybody. He roamed the streets a free dog. But he was her friend.

      “He looks nice,” the woman commented. “Not like a lapdog, more like . . . a warrior dog, strong and skilful, fast and clever. Yet he seems so gentle.”

      “He can be fierce,” Rivkah assured her.

      “His name is Kaleb?”

      “Yes, like the warrior of Judah,” Rivkah explained.

      “A good name.”

      “He is just as courageous,” Rivkah said, turning her full attention to the dog again.

      “Do you know the story of Kaleb, son of Jephunneh?”

      Of course Rivkah had heard stories about the great hero, but she was never tired of listening to them again. “Tell me.”

      The woman seemed to have waited for the invitation. She settled down comfortably and began:

      “The children of Israel had wandered many days through the wilderness. They had walked through that barren land for a long time. They longed for a good land, a land of trees and fields, of vineyards and gardens. So Moses sent twelve men to explore the land of Canaan, one from each tribe. From the tribe of Judah he chose Kaleb. He was a leader of Judah, a courageous man, a warrior among his people. He was tall and handsome, strong and clever.

      “And Moses sent the men up and said to them:

      ‘Go up through the Negev and then go to the hill country. Observe the land and the people who live there, whether they are strong or weak, few or many. What is the land they live in, good or bad? And what towns do they live in, unwalled or fortified? What is the soil like, fertile or poor? Are there trees or not? And bring back from the fruit of the land.’

      “So the men went up and explored the land. And they saw that the land was good. They saw the vineyards, the orchards, the harvested fields. They saw that the people were wealthy. They lived in big cities, fortified by strong walls. And the people seemed like giants, tall and strong. They saw that the people were skilled warriors, that they had weapons of every kind. And the men exploring the land were afraid. They hid during the day and crept close to the cities in darkness to judge their strength. And they said to each other, ‘The people here are strong and powerful. Their cities are fortified and large. We can never defeat them.’ But Kaleb was a courageous warrior and he was not afraid. He knew they would conquer the land.

      “And the men took with them from the fruit of the land, from the Valley of Eshkol a cluster of grapes. Two of them carried it on a pole between them, along with some pomegranates and figs.

      “And they came back to Moses and the children of Israel. They gave their account and said, ‘We went to the land to which you sent us and it does flow with milk and honey; here is its fruit. But the people in the land are powerful and the cities are fortified and very large.’ The children of Israel were afraid because of their words.”

      “Were the children of Israel not courageous warriors?” Rivkah interrupted.

      “Oh, they may have been. But, you know, men often lose their courage when faced with a mighty foe. And sometimes it is very real fear. After all, a great army can utterly crush a weaker people. But there is always hope,” the woman replied. Somehow the story had come dangerously close to their own situation. She continued:

      “But Kaleb, he stood up before the people and said, ‘We should definitely go and take possession of the land for we can accomplish it.’ But his words did not prevail. The people complained bitterly against Moses and against the LORD. So they wandered through the desert for forty more years. All those twenty years of age and older did not enter the land of Canaan, but died in the desert. Only Kaleb, son of Jephunneh, and Joshua, son of Nun, entered the land.”

      The woman was silent as if the story was over.

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