14

Rahab sat listless at her dressing table three months later, while another new maid dressed her hair in jeweled combs and draped dangling earrings from her ears. Once she had healed, Dabir had increased the number of men she was required to entertain each week, which left her little time after sundown to ready herself. Sometimes she even allowed the occasional visitor during daylight hours to give herself time to recover.

She was a role player, acting with each new man as though she truly cared for him. She played on their fears, then soothed their bruised egos, all the while knowing she meant none of it. She was dead inside.

Especially since Tendaji had returned to her a broken man. Though not really a man but a eunuch, his courage and determination—even his hatred of Dabir—apparently gone. As Dabir had ruined her, he had destroyed Tendaji’s manhood.

She wished she had never been born.

The servant finished the work on her hair without a word, for Rahab could not abide frivolous talk with women who came and went as often as she changed her garments. Rahab stood and out of habit smoothed the faint wrinkles out of her purple robe. She moved slowly to her chamber door toward the outer courtyard. She found Tendaji where she expected to, standing at the gate as he had always done.

He glanced up at her approach, the light gone from his eyes. “Can I help you, mistress?” His voice sounded flat, and where he had once held compassion for her, there was no resemblance of it in his gaze now.

“I came to see how you are doing, Tendaji.” She paused, thinking how foolish she sounded. “That is, I wanted to tell you how very sorry I am for getting you into such trouble. I should never have told you about the babe . . .” Her voice trailed off, and she studied the tiles at her feet. “If you ever want to leave, I will understand. I will not stop you.” She looked up but glanced beyond him, unable to hold his gaze.

“It was my choice to take you away from Jericho, Rahab. I knew the risks.”

“You did not know Dabir’s cruelty as I did. I should not have expected to escape him.” She looked into Tendaji’s eyes, surprised to find the hint of compassion flickering there. “He has kept my family living in fear since Gamal’s foolish acts. Even my sister is no longer allowed to visit me.”

She turned to go, her heart like a stone within her.

“Did you betray me to Dabir? Did you even hint at our plans to escape?” Tendaji’s quiet words stopped her cold. So even he did not truly believe her.

She turned once more to face him. “When would I have done such a thing? We were never apart.”

“We were during the hours you spent in your bed and I guarded the gate.”

“And you will recall that no one visited during that time.” He had every right to hate her, but his distrust pained her.

“There were servants.” He glanced beyond her as though he expected one to appear even now.

Realization dawned. “I wanted my baby, Tendaji. Why would I have ever done such a thing? Do you think me so evil that I would seek to hurt you or my babe . . .” She swallowed hard. “Who will never see the light of day?”

His face softened as her words settled on him. He nodded. “Then Dabir acted quickly once the servants discovered we were gone. He found us too easily. One or more of your servants spies on you for him.”

“I have always known it,” she said, holding his gaze. “Why do you think I feared to trust even you?”

He nodded, then looked away, and she knew instinctively that his new status had yet to settle with him, and he could not abide the embarrassment given his lost manhood.

Silence passed between them, but it held less anger.

At last Tendaji leaned close to her ear. “One day Dabir will regret what he has done.” He straightened, unsmiling, but one look into his eyes told her he had not lost all courage. Revenge could carry him far.

She touched his arm and nodded, then walked away. She made her way to her chambers and closed the door behind her.

At the window where she and Tendaji had plotted their escape, she looked out over the valley toward the Jordan, toward the camp of Israel, then searched the hills in the opposite direction. They had gone far in a single day. But not far enough.

If only they could have made it. But now, with added servants—Dabir’s spies—her prison remained stronger than ever. Worse, she had sacrificed her virtue, putting her soul in bondage. She needed rescue from herself, for she hated all she had become.