22

Kedesh-naphtali’s streets overflowed with men too numerous to count. Barak climbed the steps to the city gate and stood near the parapet looking down on the throng.

“Men have come from Zebulun, Issachar, and Naphtali, as well as a few other tribes. No more will come.” Deborah stood at his side, her bearing serene, confident.

“There are thousands, but not nearly as many as I had expected or hoped for.” Barak tamped down his disappointment with a smile. “But if you say we are enough, then we will go.”

“Arrange them into groups of a thousand and appoint leaders over each,” she said.

He resisted the urge to tell her he had already considered that very thing. “Yes, Prophetess.” He surveyed the crowd, catching sight of Keshet weaving his way through the wall of men to reach him. Deborah’s sons and a few of Barak’s other leaders were with him.

“Of course you had already planned this, no doubt.” Her quiet comment made him turn to face her.

“But you suggested it regardless.”

She shrugged. “I was simply affirming your thoughts. They are given to you from above, Barak. It is God who trains our hands for war.”

He considered her a moment before the noise of his men clamoring up the stairs drew their attention.

“We have counted the last of them, my lord,” Keshet said, giving a slight bow. “There are ten thousand of us. Not many carry shield or sword, but every man has a sling and many wield the bow.”

“We have divided them by clans and tribes,” Lavi said, glancing at his mother. “They are eager to leave for Mount Tabor.”

Deborah clasped her hands together, and Barak noticed Lappidoth and Talya appear at the top of the stairs to join her. “We will leave at dawn,” she said. “Give the leaders your instructions this night and make sure all is packed. We will need tents to shield us on the mountain, for I sense a great storm coming.”

Barak looked at her, studied her certain gaze. “The winter rains are still months away.” He pointed overhead. “The sky is clear of even a single cloud, and yet you say a storm is coming? How can we fight the enemy in a downpour?” By her expression he did not doubt her words. Had they gathered men just to sit in tents while the rains turned the roads into rivers?

“God will fight the battle for us, my son.” Deborah raised her hands high. “The Kishon will aid our fight, the moon and stars will shine in our defense.” She lowered her arms and faced the leaders. “Be strong and have great courage. Tomorrow we travel to Tabor. Let us not lose heart along the way.”

Barak puzzled over her comments as he watched her retreat to the street below, her family following behind her. Had Deborah’s presence here given her the right to lead the warrior’s charge, to shout the battle cry?

“You gave her the right to lead when you asked her to come, you know.” Keshet stood close to his ear, his words meant for Barak alone. “In case it troubles you to have a woman—two women—in the camp now. Just remember why that is.”

Barak scowled at his friend, ran a hand over his beard. “If I wanted your opinion, I would have asked for it.” Sometimes a friend could be more trouble than a brother. But one glance into his friend’s dark eyes told him that Keshet knew him better than he cared to admit. “Never mind. You are right. I asked for a woman’s help. It is fitting that the men will follow her lead, not mine.” He didn’t care about the glory of winning regardless.

But as he walked to his home to face Deborah and her family already waiting for him, he was not so sure he had spoken the truth.

The sound of the shofar filled the streets the following morning. Deborah tucked the last of the unleavened bread into a pouch as stuffed full as the skin would allow, tied another skin of water to the belt at her waist, and walked to the courtyard of Barak’s home. Talya was already waiting, her bearing proud. Deborah looked at her daughter, her heart searching for some confirmation, some truth, that Talya did indeed belong here. Is she the woman who will kill Sisera as she so desires? But her prayers drifted on the winds of thought, and no peace followed.

Barak’s command to move out drew her attention, and she fell into step behind him and Keshet as they marched. What if she had made a grave mistake allowing Talya to join them here? If a Canaanite arrow pierced her daughter’s heart, if a Canaanite captured her as a trophy of war . . .

“Are you all right, Ima?” Lavi’s touch and his gentle tone roused her to her surroundings. The men were long past the village now, headed to the base of the mount near the Jezreel Valley.

Deborah glanced before and behind her, but Talya was several paces ahead, speaking with her father. “I am not sure she should have come.” She angled her head in the direction of Lavi’s sister.

Lavi stopped, letting the men continue around him, and faced his mother. “Is there some word of the Lord you fear, Ima? Has God told you Talya does not belong here? Because if you say the word, I will take her now and return her to our village out of harm’s way.” He did not say, “Where she should have stayed,” though Deborah knew the thought had crossed his mind.

Deborah shook her head. “No, my son.” She touched his arm, meeting his earnest gaze. “It is only I, your mother, who fears for her daughter. I have had no word from the Lord in this.”

Lavi tilted his head, then glanced quickly around them. He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Are you suggesting it is not my sister who will kill Sisera? I thought Adonai had given you this word.”

Deborah drew a breath, wishing she could retract those words, but in an instant she knew they were still true. “The Lord clearly said that a woman will kill Sisera. Only, I do not know whether that woman will be Talya. That is Talya’s desire, so it may be that our God will use her to fulfill His plan. I do not know every detail of His plan until He reveals it.”

Lavi studied her, his broad shoulders flexing as though trying to relieve a kink in his neck. “Do you think that woman will be you, Ima?” His heavy brows knit beneath the turban that covered his dark hair. “You have no weapon, nor training in war.”

Deborah felt the sling tied to her wrist. “No, but every woman knows how to wield a stone against wild animals, my son. Sisera can be caught as easily by a sling as by a bow or sword.” She touched the pouch with the stones at her side. “If God should will it, I would use whatever skill I possess to kill the man.” She held his gaze, unwavering.

Lavi tucked his hands into the belt at his waist, and she didn’t miss the soft smile at the corners of his mouth. “I have no doubt you would do just that, Ima. I wish neither one of you had come, though.” He glanced once more at his sister. “I wish war had not come to either of you.”

“War has come to all Israel, my son, because we fashioned the gods of Canaan to be true gods. Israel caused her own testing by putting the Lord our God to the test. Sisera is evil, but he would hold no power if we had fully trusted our God.” Deborah released a breath.

“It is because of Yiskah and others like her,” Lavi said, spitting in the dust. “Weak women and faithless men have caused this.” His large face grew hard, and she did not like the glint of hatred she saw in his eyes.

Deborah touched his forearm. Men continued to pass them as they stood near the trees, and she knew they could not stand here much longer. “My son, listen to me.”

He met her gaze, waiting.

“When we worshiped other gods, war came to our gates, this is true. But none of us can say that we serve and obey our God with perfect hearts. Is there one among us who has not coveted? Is there even one who has kept the commands of our God without blemish, like a pure, perfect lamb? If we had, the sacrifices would no longer be necessary.” She brushed strands of hair that the breeze had blown across her face and tucked them under her scarf.

“But we don’t worship other gods, Ima. Not everyone disobeys.” Lavi’s protest gave her pause, but she sensed that he had softened as his thoughts turned to truly consider the matter.

“Our forefathers did not drive out our enemies as our God commanded, my son. Yahweh commanded this to protect us from the worship that drove those people to evil, to abandon their Creator. As Sisera has done. As Jabin has done. And so many nations and peoples before them. So Adonai allowed them to live among us to test us and see if we could resist the temptation to follow after their gods. We failed His test. And so we have come to face war.” She looped her arm through his. “But come. We will fall too far behind, and we must stay close to Barak.”

Lavi nodded, saying nothing, but Deborah knew her son would think long about her words.

Quiet murmurs and the consistent shuffling of men bedding down for the night mingled with the sounds of winged creatures overhead. No one slept as well as they would have liked with war so imminent. Barak strode through the sea of black goat-hair tents, heard the hushed conversations. Anxious excitement moved like ripples of water upon the sand, and Barak could not shake the feeling of justice the coming day evoked.

He walked the length and breadth of the camp, his mind whirling with plans. There were simply not enough swords among them, so they would have to rely on some distance for the use of bow and sling. The image of Talya with her bow slung over her back made him pause. He would keep her on the mountain unless her mother objected. If the girl was truly to kill Sisera, God would make a way.

He came to the central fire, where the embers had nearly died out to keep their presence less conspicuous. Deborah sat before the pit, her head bowed as if in prayer.

He sat opposite her, keeping his peace, but she looked up at his approach. “Is everything secure?” She looked at him, and it seemed to him the fire had moved from the pit to her brilliant gaze.

He nodded, staring. “You have been praying. Have you seen another vision?” He had never been near her at such a time. “Your eyes are aglow.”

She blinked, and the light in them slowly dimmed. “I did not realize,” she said softly. “Sometimes Lappidoth tells me my face is like the sun when I awake from one of the dreams. And twice he has seen fire surround me.” She released a deep sigh. “All I see is a warm light, like a swirling blanket.” She clasped her hands in her lap. “And my dreams are always of danger and war.”

He studied her, this woman whose hair shone dark as night, with the slightest tips of bright white along her temples as though she had been scorched by God’s flames. Though she was not a warrior, she had the look of unbending strength.

“I would that your dreams be peaceful, your life surrounded by good, Deborah.” He rubbed a hand over his beard, at a loss for more to say.

Her smile held distance, but a moment later she looked at him full on. “You are called to destroy our enemies, those who have plotted our harm for these past twenty years. God has put you in this place for this time, and the faith you carry now is that which will win the day. Forget any doubt you faced until this moment, my son. Forget your past failures. You can trust Adonai to keep His word.”

Barak studied his hands now in his lap, then rested them on his knees. “I know that. I know that what you have said is true. But can I request one thing of you?” He held her steady gaze.

Silence followed his remark, as though she was not sure whether to allow him to question her, but after a moment she nodded. “What do you request?”

He glanced beyond her to the tent she would share with Talya. “I want you to keep Talya in the camp on the mountain when we go after Sisera. If she is to kill the man, God will make a way for her to do so. But if she runs down the hill with those men”—he gestured to the surrounding tents—“when she is not accustomed to battle, she will be hurt, perhaps killed. And the injury may not even come at the hands of Canaan.”

“She is capable of using her weapons,” Deborah said slowly, assessing him. “But I share your concerns. My daughter has lived a protected life in our village. Except for that one time when she was lost in the woods, she has never been alone. I, too, fear for her safety.”

Barak lifted a brow. “But you allowed her to come. And you yourself said that Sisera will die at the hand of a woman.”

“I do not know whether that woman is Talya.” Deborah’s matter-of-fact tone caught him up short.

“I thought that was why she came.” His pulse quickened as the realization dawned that the girl had probably persuaded her mother and father, rather than God Himself doing the sending.

“I thought so too, my son.” Deborah’s voice held sorrow. “I fear I do not always discern the voice of the Lord from my own thoughts. But this I know. God did not give me a vision of Talya killing Sisera. Perhaps I will be the one to do so. Perhaps she will have the honor. Perhaps another woman entirely will pierce Sisera’s armor with a final blow.” She twisted the belt at her waist. “I fear I do not know.”

“Then Talya should stay behind until you do.” All she had to do was walk among his men, passing out bread, and they couldn’t take their eyes from her. No. She was better to stay.

“I will tell her, but she will not obey me,” Deborah said, suddenly sounding like a defeated mother rather than Israel’s judge and prophetess.

“Then I will tell her,” Barak said, straightening. “She is a distraction to my men. She will be a hindrance to the battle. I should have insisted before, but I thought . . .” He paused.

“You thought God was sending her to join us.”

“Yes.” He stood, and Deborah did the same. “I will tell her in the morning.”

He bid Deborah good night, then went to his tent, all the while wondering if Talya was a distraction more to his men or to him.