Warrior of the Heart (Days of the Judges Book 3) by Mary Ellen Boyd

Author:Mary Ellen Boyd [Boyd, Mary Ellen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mary Ellen Boyd
Published: 2016-06-10T14:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 9

“and you see among the captives a beautiful woman and you are attracted to her and you want to take her as your wife, you may bring her into your house . . . She will weep for her father and her mother a whole month, and afterward you may have relations with her; you will become her husband and she will become your wife.”

Deuteronomy 21:11-13

Trees began to fill the landscape now that Michmash was behind them. Clusters of the greyish wild olive and spreading sycamores grew among the valleys and up hillsides. They must be heavy with the coming crop although any there blended in with the leaves, but it would not be ripe. With no one here to prick the sycamore fruit to speed the ripening, those trees might not give a crop worth eating.

Figs, on the other hand, grew close to the path, the fruit brushing their heads on the lower branches. The early crop was nearly ripe, tempting them to pluck a few, but they both knew better.

“Two weeks will make all the difference,” Eliab said with regret as he turned away from yet another dangling fruit.

Tall palm trees surprised her, yet another fruit to wait for. And always, growing in large swaths in every open space, the ripe brownish wheat and the lighter-colored barley with its heavy drooping head.

He had stopped several times to catch more birds. Between the need to hunt and the growing flock of sheep that slowed their pace to a crawl, plus their own needs and the privacy required, their journey seemed as if it would never end.

A shape off in the distance caught her attention, and Aksah turned her head to get a better look.

A house, coming in and out between the rolling land and the trees. Several small hills over, it appeared to be in perfect condition. Not everything had been burned, then.

There would be places for security and shelter. All she had to do was find them. She would pray, Aksah decided, and hope that God would bring her home safely.

A fig dangled close to her head, and she dodged it. As she did so, her gaze landed on the field of wheat running along the right side of the path, waiting for harvest. Figs and wheat and barley and dates. Eliab could not possibly manage that work alone.

Guilt stabbed at her. She had not wanted him to suffer, but what else would happen if he was left to all this work?

Bleating and commotion came over the hill’s edge. Eliab crested the rise, using his staff as a barrier to keep the sheep moving. They needed a pen, she thought, and soon.

Eliab gave her a twisted smile. “So you saw my home.”

That house was his? They were there? Her first thought was, at last. Her second was, what if his was indeed the only shelter? Then, on a rush of panic that made her heart skip, came the realization that now the countdown began. Thirty days to find a way to flee, or be lost to Judah forever.

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