29

Needing to buy time and prevent a charge on the Fish Gate, Adah and Nehemiah strolled, slowly and honorably, through the gate’s frame and toward the king’s men and Sanballat’s misguided fools.

A slight breeze brought the scent of freshly cut cedar and oak to her nostrils. Adah kept her gaze on the army before her. If she glanced toward the hills, it might reveal their plot and put her people in peril. But that didn’t mean she did not think about her trip to summon Telem from his cave, or the boy who went with her. Her chest tightened recalling Othniel’s bravery. At least serving pagans, he was not here to face a battle, or see her slain because of wicked lies.

“We advance toward uncertainty, possibly death,” Nehemiah said. “And I cannot see one wrinkle on your face. When I came to Jerusalem I did not know if our people would agree to rebuild the wall. After meeting you that night, my heart knew God’s plan would be victorious.”

“I do not deserve so much praise.” Her heavy footfalls lightened at the governor’s encouragement, but her stomach ached as if she’d consumed pebbles with her bread. “My mother heard you weeping, and I sought out the noise to calm her fears.”

“But you listened as I revealed the burden I carried, and you kept my secret.”

She regarded Nehemiah. His cadence and fine clothing revealed his status, but his heart convinced her to champion his cause.

“When we met, you told me how you prayed before approaching the king for a leave of duty and for letters for safe passage. At great risk to your own life, you spoke for this city and our people. God’s people.”

Nehemiah nodded.

“How could I not follow your lead when we had been petitioning God to raise Jerusalem from its rubble?”

“My heart nearly stopped when the king asked me why I was sad.” Nehemiah grinned. “This heart of mine has been worked harder than an Egyptian slave.” He patted his chest. “But it still beats.”

“Mine too.” Rapidly. She avoided assessing the strength of the army camped around her city. “I have learned more about God in the last two months than I have since birth. And I owe that knowledge to you.” She beheld him with the calm of a sleeping newborn and gave her governor a reassuring smile.

“Toda raba, my brave Adah.”

Her smile vanished. Othniel had used that same affection. Her childhood friend would want to be at her side showing these foreigners the strength and courage of their people. So I shall.

She glanced back at the gate and recognized her father a few paces outside of the city, watching her walk to greet heavily armed warriors. His stature seemed like a child’s against the height and grandeur of the newly completed wall. A wall God had raised with the hands and backs of His people.

She prayed for God to work His peace in her trembling limbs as she and Nehemiah strolled closer to their accusers. Even a whiff of the jasmine scenting her veil did nothing to relieve her angst. “Be strong and…” Her mouth was too dry to finish her chant.

“Woe to you Nehemiah and your witch, I have escorted the king’s cavalry to your city so I could witness the punishment of your treasonous acts,” Sanballat called from the center of a line of men carrying swords.

Leave it to the Samaritan governor to place himself where he had the best defense.

Noadiah shook a tambourine and paraded along the station of soldiers. Gold beads swayed from her headband, but she wore the same plum-colored robe from her previous visit. Her exaggerated steps and flailing arms fanned the stench of horse sweat and unbathed fighting men in Adah’s direction. “Death to those who do not heed God’s wisdom.”

And what god would that be? Adah’s fury soared at Noadiah’s false teaching. Now was the time to snuff out the lies of rebellion and impress the truth on the king’s messenger.

A flash of light burst forth from the hills. The small flicker from Telem’s polished bronze mirror calmed her soul.

David and his mighty fighting men had overtaken this city and had conquered the Jebusites by using tunnels, and today, if need be, Sanballat and Noadiah would be brought low by Jerusalem’s underground laborers. Praise God for her mother who sent her and Judith on a mysterious journey to find a mason. And praise God for a willing escort. Her Othniel.

“Come closer.” Sanballat waved Nehemiah in the direction of his mount. “You make us wait as if you have the power of a king.”

“If I thought myself as lofty as you suggest, I would be atop a stallion with a golden sword.” Nehemiah veered to address the commander of the king’s forces. “I walk as a servant of King Artaxerxes and the Most High God.”

“Is your god mightier than mine?” Sanballat shouted.

Yes. But only a fool would answer Sanballat’s question. Contempt for his fellow governor riddled every word. Adah stayed a half-pace behind Nehemiah, using his body as a shield from the scrutiny of the soldiers and from their insults.

Nehemiah halted near the leader of the king’s envoy. He left enough distance to uphold his standing as the royal cupbearer, and he left enough room for a hasty escape.

“Lord, save us from these men of violence.” Her whisper broadened Nehemiah’s stance.

The king’s official dismounted and marched toward Nehemiah. His regal breastplate held so much silver that he sparkled in the afternoon sun.

Sanballat remained on his wide-withered horse.

“Governor.” The armor-clad leader gave Nehemiah a nod of respect. He handed the governor a parchment sealed with wax and embedded with the mark of the king. “Our sovereign has sent an urgent message. I am to carry out its commands.”

“Artaxerxes knows of your intentions,” Sanballat announced. “I am not the only governor to share concerns about this wall. Tobiah has brought forth charges. Why fortify a city if not for war?”

Tink-tat-tink. Noadiah added her slander.

Nehemiah turned toward his fellow governor. “Who would spread such rumors except those who scheme to deceive the king?”

“You cannot silence God.” Noadiah rattled her tambourine all the more.

No, but could someone silence her? Adah breathed deep and slowly blew out a breath, attempting to calm the rage stoked by her enemies. Noadiah’s dagger-eyed glares heaped wood on Adah’s inner fire pit. With one arm around her middle and another on her necklace, Adah counted her beads and recited, “Hear, O, Israel, the, Lord, is, our, God, the, Lord, alone.”

Sanballat rode forward. “Your pride has brought you to ruin.”

“We will know if you are a prophet when I open the seal.” Nehemiah’s accommodating tone had worn thin. “You certainly have been earnest in trying to draw me out of the city, Sanballat. It is a shame you have to interfere in my personal business with the king.” He stepped to the side, leaving Adah exposed to gawking fighters.

Stopping her bead count, Adah gave a nod of respect to the king’s messenger and clasped her hands behind the folds of her robe.

“The daughter of Shallum has assisted me in rebuilding the wall of this fine city. She holds the king in high regard, but she holds our God in the highest regard.”

Adah dipped her head in agreement with her governor.

Sanballat cleared his throat and regarded the official. “We do not blaspheme our neighbor’s gods.”

“Open the decree.” Noadiah shook her tambourine. “He stalls his demise.”

Nehemiah held the message in the air above his head.

Adah’s lips were dry as linen. The pounding of her heart bested Noadiah’s raucous music.

Her precious governor slid a finger underneath the seal, opened the parchment, and slowly read the king’s edict to himself. Holding the message to his chest, her governor roared with a laughter that echoed above the soldiers. The messenger’s horse neighed and sidestepped toward another stallion.

“Tell us what it says.” Noadiah’s prophetic skills failed her.

Nehemiah bent at the waist and laughed boldly as though he had enjoyed too much wine. Tears streamed down his cheeks.

Adah rubbed her damp palms together and drew closer to Nehemiah. What had caused her governor to come undone? His belly-deep laughter stirred a rumbling among the skeptical soldiers.

“Sir, what does the king desire?” she asked.

Trying to calm his outburst, Nehemiah choked out, “You.”