With a deep breath, Miriam filled her lungs with air then slowly let it escape through her nose. She closed her eyes and turned her face upward, letting the sunshine flood her skin with warmth and light. “I’m so glad to be free of that narrow passage,” she said as she pulled Samara up the last couple feet of the shaft.
“It feels wonderful,” Samara agreed as she brushed her long hair from her face with her scraped and bleeding fingers.
Miriam knelt beside the narrow shaft and called down, “Gili, are you okay?”
“Yes, Mother, I’m fine,” the soft voice purred out.
“I’m going to lie on my stomach, and Samara is going to hold my legs and lower me down. You need to reach as high as you can and grasp my hands. Do you understand?”
There was no response.
“Gili, do you understand what I said?”
There was another longer pause and then, “Mother,” Gili said with alarm in her voice, “I’ve forgotten my stone.”
Miriam’s mind raced, but she didn’t understand. “What stone?”
“The pretty one, the stone Prophet gave me.”
Miriam’s eyes suddenly widened as a wave of anxiety swept over her. Before Miriam could say anything, the small voice at the bottom of the shaft said, “I must go back for it.”
“No!” Miriam screamed in panic. “You must not.”
“I left it beside my sheepskin pillow in the cave.”
Miriam pushed herself forward and leaned over the edge of the shaft, her head and arms dangling in the air below her. “Gili, you must not go back. Reach up and grab my hands, NOW!”
“Mother, I can’t leave my stone here. I must go get it.”
“Gili, I’ll get you another stone, but please, please take my hand,” she begged. “Please!”
“Mother, it will be all right,” the girl said, sounding as if she were an adult. “I’ll take the lamp, hurry down, and get my stone. I know exactly where I left it. I’ll be back in just a minute.”
“GILI!” Miriam screamed. “Don’t go!” She shoved herself forward in a desperate attempt to grab her daughter.
It was only Samara’s quick action that stopped Miriam from plummeting headfirst down the shaft. At the same instant Miriam grabbed for Gili, Samara lunged forward and grasped Miriam’s ankles. With her sandals skidding in the loose gravel and sand, Samara fought to stop Miriam’s headlong plunge. Slowly, she tugged and pulled a sobbing Miriam from the shaft.
“Let me go,” Miriam demanded, twisting around. “I must go down there.”
Samara grabbed Miriam around the shoulders and held her tightly. “How?” she asked. “Even if you could lower yourself back down the shaft, Gili will have the only lamp, if it’s even still burning. You’d be in total darkness.”
“I can feel my way along the split in the rocks until I get to the steps,” Miriam fired back through her tears. “I don’t need a lamp.”
It was folly, and both women knew it. Inching through the narrow split without a light had been terrifying enough, but it would be impossible to get down steps without one.
“Just wait here,” Samara said soothingly. “Gili will be able to find her way. She’ll be back in a couple minutes.”
* * *
Gili inched her way back through the narrow split and let out a quiet sigh when she saw the lamp’s small flickering flame. She picked up the lamp, eased onto the uppermost step, and took a quick breath. “I can do this,” she said softly.
Holding the lamp in front of her, she lowered herself down the first uneven step and then the next, descending into the blackness below. Halfway down, she froze. Coming up the steps was the small flame of an oil lamp. “Who is that?”
“Gili?” came the almost instant reply. “Is that you?”
“Hanan!” she exclaimed in delight and scampered down the steps that separated them.
“What are you doing here?” Hanan asked with worry.
“I came back to get the stone Prophet gave me.”
“There isn’t time; the soldiers are coming.”
“Hanan, I must get it,” she said as she brushed by him on the narrow steps.
“Gili, you don’t understand,” he called after her. “I’ve heard their voices. They’re going to be here any minute.”
Hanan watched the little light from the lamp as his sister descended the remaining steps. The flame was so pitifully small he could see nothing more of Gili than her hand. The delicate yellow light seemed to float like a butterfly in the black cavern.
“Hurry, Gili,” Hanan called out urgently.
“I can’t find it,” Gili said in frustration and anxiety. “It’s so dark I can’t even find my pillow.”
The lapse of silence was shattered by the muffled voices of men.
“Gili, the soldiers are in the tunnel. You must come back now! Forget the stone.”
“Just a minute,” she pled.
“No, Gili, now!”
“I found it!” Gili exclaimed from the darkness. “I’m coming.”
But so were the soldiers. Hanan watched in panic as a faint light from the tunnel began growing brighter. In seconds the soldiers would be turning the corner. “Run, Gili! Run!” he hissed.
Just as Gili leaped on the first step, the golden yellow light of a burning torch spilled into the main cavern. “Be cautious,” a deep voice warned.
“Douse your flame so they can’t see it,” Hanan whispered quietly to Gili as she stepped up beside him. Pushing her ahead of him, he instructed, “Go as quietly as you can up the steps.”
“But I can’t see,” she whispered so softly that Hanan could barely distinguish what she was saying.
“Use your hands. You must feel your way along.”
How far ahead of him Gili was, he couldn’t be certain, but Hanan had only managed to move up a few steps before another torch entered the room, doubling the amount of light. With the added light of a second torch, Hanan strained to see Gili, but it was simply too dark. Looking down, he could tell he still had more than half the distance to go before he reached the top of the steps. “The split, that’s all we need. Then we’ll be safe,” Hanan whispered as he eased forward.
“Well, well,” a disembodied voice said. “What is all this?”
Even with the distance and in the poor light, Hanan recognized the speaker as the horseless leader and immediately crouched down so that he was nearly lying on the steps. As he did, the toe of his sandal caught on a small rock and sent it bouncing down the steps below him.
The soldiers’ reaction was instinctive and instantaneous. Bowmen pulled back on their bows, pointing arrows in the general direction of the sound, ready to let fly at the slightest provocation.
“The torch,” the leader shouted. “Take the torch to the back of the cave.” The two soldiers bearing the torches hesitantly inched their way toward Hanan.
In the light of the torches, Hanan’s black and white tunic fairly glowed, and a dozen arrows, swords and spears instantly pointed at his cowering body.
“If you value your life, you will not move quickly,” the leader’s voice warned ominously.
Not only did Hanan not move quickly, he did not move at all.
“Very slowly sit upright, and place your hands on top of your head.”
Hanan swallowed hard and did exactly as he was told. “Now I want you to very carefully come down here. Do not make any sudden movements, or you will die.”
Hanan eased himself down from the steps and cautiously walked to where the man stood. In the light of the torch, the leader looked carefully at Hanan and sneered. “I recognize you. You’re the one who can’t shoot an arrow.” Hanan looked at the man and said nothing. “There were two of you. Where’s the other one?” the man demanded.
Hanan swallowed hard and tried to steady his shaking hands. Squaring his shoulders he said, “I’m the only one here. There weren’t two.”
In the poor light, Hanan never knew what hit him. The man’s fist hit the boy’s jaw hard enough to dislocate it and send the boy crashing to the ground. In a slow, even voice, the man said, “I asked you where the other person is,” and then he added menacingly, “and I won’t ask again.”
“I’m here!” Gili shouted from the protection of the split in the rock. “I’m right here, and I’ll come down.”
“No, Gili,” Hanan shouted. “You should—”
He couldn’t finish the sentence. The leader kicked him so violently in the ribs that it knocked the air from his lungs. Hanan wrapped his arms around his stomach and writhed in pain.
“I can’t see. I need more light!” Gili shouted.
The leader waved his hand at one of the soldiers carrying a torch, who walked partway up the steps. As Gili reached the floor, she pushed her way through the group of soldiers and dropped down on the ground beside Hanan.
The leader looked down at Gili and said incredulously, “You’re only a young maiden.” Then turning to the soldiers, he commanded, “Get them out of here.”
Gili leaned over to help Hanan to his feet and was grabbed on the shoulder by a soldier. “Let go of me,” she yelled and pulled away from the man. Squatting down she grasped Hanan’s arm and did her best to support him as he rose to his feet.
“Walk,” the leader commanded, shoving Hanan in the back and causing the boy to stumble forward.
“Please stop that!” Gili shouted. “Can’t you see my brother’s hurt?”
“Walk, both of you, or he’ll be hurting worse than he is right now.”
With the torchbearers leading the way, the group slowly walked from the main cavern and up the tunnel leading to the outside world. “My side hurts, and I can’t breathe,” Hanan struggled to tell Gili through his dislocated jaw. “I think I may have a broken rib.”
“Silence, Hebrew,” a soldier spit out as he prodded Hanan with the point of his sword. “Walk in silence!”
Stepping into the sunlight, Hanan painfully raised his hand to shield his eyes from the intense brightness. He surveyed the scene below, and a look of confusion spread over his face. There were dead soldiers lying in the clearing—the result of Uzzi’s attack—but where was Uzzi? His body was no longer lying where he had fallen only minutes before. Leaning over slightly, Hanan whispered to Gili, “I think Uzzi might still be alive.”
Gili looked at him perplexed and asked, “Was he dead?
For some reason, Hanan found humor in the remark and smiled. “I thought so but not anymore.”
“What happened to him?”
Hanan didn’t have a chance to reply. Pointing to two soldiers with bows, the leader said, “You two come with me. The rest of you take this Israelite down to the other captives.” Walking up beside Gili, he grabbed her by the shoulder. “You’re coming with me.”
Twisting from the leader’s grip, Gili shouted, “I’m going with my brother! He’s hurt, and he needs me.”
The leader lunged forward, grabbed a handful of Gili’s hair, and yanked her forcefully to his side. “You’re coming with me,” he repeated angrily and started walking rapidly down the hillside toward the man in the chariot.
“Hanan!” Gili screamed as she stumbled along, fighting against the hand that yanked her hair.
Hanan leaped forward to wrest Gili from the man’s grip but was knocked to the ground in midstride by the violent thrust of a soldier. Looking down at Hanan’s prostrate body, the soldier said, “Get up!” in a sinister voice. “And if you do it very slowly, you may live to make it to the other captives.”
Hanan lay on the ground clutching his already battered side and watched as Gili was led away, struggling against the unrelenting pulling of her hair. Spitting dirt from his mouth, he slowly rose to his hands and knees. He was about to push himself to his feet when an awkward flash of movement in the rocks far below caught his eye. Half crawling and half dragging himself to the protective cover of a large rock was Uzzi, bow over his shoulder and quiver of arrows on his back. Hanan smiled to himself. If the man dragging Gili stayed on his same course, he would pass within Uzzi’s easy bowshot.
“Get up now!” the soldier said, grabbing Hanan by his hair and pulling the boy to his feet. Hanan only smiled as he rose, and with a look of defiance, he spit in the man’s face. It was Hanan’s last act on this earth. The soldier’s shock was instantly replaced with anger, and in a lightning-fast movement, he ran the Damascus steel blade of his sword into Hanan’s body, thrashing it back and forth before he slowly pulled it out. Hanan dropped to the ground with his head facing down the hill. As his eyes slowly closed for their last time, a faint smile formed on his blood- and dirt-caked lips as he watched Uzzi place an arrow on his bowstring.
* * *
Two soldiers with bows walked ahead of the leader in single file, one trailing slightly behind the other. Being led by the hair, it was impossible for Gili’s short legs to keep pace with the men, and she repeatedly fell to her knees, only to be viciously yanked to her feet again.
As the little group left the clearing and entered the tree-strewn hillside, the leader paused briefly. He had been pulling Gili behind him, but now as they entered the convoluted trail through the rocks, he yanked her forcefully in front of him. Letting go of her hair, he reached out and grabbed her robe at the nape of her neck. “Walk,” he said roughly as he shoved her forward.
Uzzi watched the first arrow speed silently through the air and enter the leader’s body with devastating velocity at the base of his skull. The force of the impact knocked him forward, and he fell on top of Gili without making a sound. The second arrow slammed into the back of the rearmost bowman, and his scream of pain caused the lead bowman to spin around in time to catch an arrow in his chest. In less than ten seconds, three men lay dead.
* * *
Gili could see streaks of blood on the boulder when Uzzi’s legs sagged and he slowly sank to the ground. He sat unnaturally, one leg stretched in front of him the other curled back awkwardly, an arrow protruding from his hamstring. His left arm hung limply at his side, blood saturating his filthy tunic as it seeped from his wounded shoulder. His right arm lay across his stomach, his hand loosely wrapped around the arrow embedded in his side. The barely imperceptible rise and fall of his chest was obliterated when damaged nerves suddenly wracked his body with a spasm, held his muscles taunt for a brief second, then relaxed their grip. Slowly, Uzzi’s arrow-riddled body slumped to the dirt.
Gili screamed as she fought to free herself from the body that had fallen on her. Kicking free, she struggled to her feet and ran to where Uzzi lay.
Dropping to her knees, Gili reached out, lifted Uzzi’s head, and brushed dirt from his cheek. “Uzzi?”
As Gili held Uzzi’s head, a gloved hand reached over her shoulder and forced Uzzi’s left eyelid open. A fraction of a second later, a deep male voice said, “He’s dead.”