Leah
War, it seemed to me, consisted of riding through desolate lands while searching for food, water, and the enemy. Safe in a wagon at the end of the advance, the other women and I saw little of the actual fighting, but we did see the aftermath—which, thanks be to HaShem, was not as bloody as it could have been.
Despite the hardships of the journey, I determined that I would not complain or cause my husband distress. I had made up my mind to support him, and if supporting him required hauling water or washing wounds, I would do it without complaint. But all the while I would be watching and memorizing details of each battle, details I could relay to others once we returned home. If HaShem called Judah to be a warrior, why couldn’t He call me to be a witness to the struggle?
We traveled through plains and mountains I had never heard of; we rode by devastation I had never imagined. I had never understood the urgency of war, but as I gazed at burned villages and spotted lost children hiding in the ruins, I realized Modein could have easily been destroyed as well. If Mattathias had not led us away after killing the king’s envoys, the Seleucids could have swept in from the north, killed all the men, captured the women, and left the children to fend for themselves.
When we could, we picked up homeless children, gave comfort to the dying, and buried the dead. And more than once I found myself weeping for all the innocent lives that had been callously snuffed out by the Amorites.
After relieving the siege at Dathema, we stopped to rest. I climbed out of the wagon and took my pail to the nearby spring, then carried water to the men gathered around their campfires. I saw Judah sitting next to Jonathan, but I did not want to draw attention as the commander’s wife. So I silently served all the men in the circle, offering them a drink from my dipper, waiting until each had drunk before moving on to the next man.
I felt the pressure of Judah’s eyes the moment he spotted me. There was no denying the heat of his gaze, and from the corner of my eye I saw a smile tug at his lips. I smiled in return, still not looking at him, and not until I worked my way around the circle did I allow my eyes to meet his.
“Water, sir?”
His smile deepened as he accepted the ladle, and the look in his eyes spurred the drops of my blood to race through my veins.
He drank, and I turned my face to the starlit heavens, pretending to be distracted. When I felt his hand on my ankle, my blood began racing again.
“Thank you, miss.”
I stepped past him and offered the ladle to Jonathan. “Water?”
“Thanks, Leah.” He took it and drank, but I could not deny the invisible thread that attached me to Judah. I glanced back and saw that he was still watching me.
I hoped the yearning that showed on his face was not quite as apparent on my own.