Deborah's Story by Ann Burton

Author:Ann Burton
Language: eng
Format: azw3, mobi
ISBN: 9780739472781
Publisher: Signet
Published: 2006-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

I refused to ride in the supply wagon when we left the farm, and instead walked with Jeth and the shepherds to help them drive the herd to the river. My back, though still painful, did not trouble me too much, and it felt good to stretch my legs. Also, I did not want Jeth to think me weak or incapable. I suspected he was acting out of gratitude, but if I could prove that I could be truly useful, then he would never have reason to regret his kindness.

There was a small group of beggars outside the town gate who gathered as our herd approached it. To my astonishment, Jeth stopped the supply wagon to distribute some food and skins of wine and milk from his supplies to the poor folk. I could not look upon their grateful faces, for it was too easy to imagine myself there, huddled among the wretched homeless, thin hands outstretched to every passing stranger, begging for food and kindness.

“The Gods rejoice in the generous, Adon,” an elderly, one-legged Canaanite proclaimed as he was given a loaf of bread and a bulging skin of sheep’s milk. “For this, I dare say they will see to it that you never know any want in this lifetime.”

“I thank you, zaqen, for there is no greater blessing than that,” Jeth said with such sincere respect that the old soldier’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction and pride.

To reach the river we had to cross through Hazor. Driving the noisy herd through the center of town required some finesse, but the shepherds and their dogs regularly brought animals to auction, and so had much practice passing through Hazor’s crowded, narrow streets. I lagged behind the herd, keeping a sharp eye out for tiring lambs or frightened ewes.

Jeth did not lead the herd, but stayed with me. “You will tell me if you grow weary.”

I hid a smile. I was accustomed to rising before dawn and working until well past dusk, no matter how sore or tired I felt. “Yes, Adon.”

He made a tsking sound. “You have no master, Deborah. You are a free woman now, and we are kin. Call me Jeth.”

“A scroll cannot cause twenty-two years of habit to vanish,” I said. “Please forgive me if I forget to use your given name…Jeth.” It was how I thought of him, and yet it felt audacious to say it out loud.

“Deborah.” Soravel, one of the shepherds, dropped into step with us. “We pass by the magistrate’s bayit, there.” He pointed to a squat building set back from the street. “Our former master watches through the front left window.”

It took a few moments for the herd to move ahead, and for us to draw close to the front of the structure. Like Parah’s town house, the building served as both the magistrate’s home and place of business, but also as a prison for citizens under judgment. I spotted two fists curled around the vertical window slats, and the angry face pressed against them.

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