24

Early the next morning, Mahlah lay awake facing the tent flap and remembering every harsh word spoken at the assembly. The scorn from the crowd threatened to dampen the joy of being a future landowner. How could her people condemn her boldness when God had agreed with her? The Most High had granted her the right to inherit property in her father’s name.

The scuffle of sandals interrupted her thoughts. Leather slapped the path outside her tent. First one man stomped past. Then another. A woman wandering about at night would not make such noise. But were these footfalls friend or foe?

Mahlah unlaced the tent flap and peeked outside. Men were on the move, but no trumpet had sounded for the camp to march. With the moonlight and a hard squint, she recognized a distant relative from another clan of Manasseh. A sword was strapped to his hip. He wore a short tunic that suggested her people were going to war.

She glanced at her sleeping sisters and then hastily wrapped her veil over her head, flinging it around her shoulders. She emerged from her tent. Heart pounding, she jogged to catch her relative.

“Helek,” she called, keeping her voice low. “Why are you leaving camp?” Surely the scouting of land would be done during the day.

Her tribesman slowed his steps. The men beside him whispered in his ear.

“Were you too busy rejoicing over your inheritance to hear Moses’ instructions?” He strode forward, passing Nemuel’s tent without answering her question.

“Do you wish to go and kill the Baal worshipers with us?” His companion said, holding back a chuckle.

“She is not in the top thousand warriors.” Helek angled toward the center of camp.

“Not even in the top tens of thousands.”

Fine. Let them jest. Was she to be an outcast for seeking land?

Had Moses called an assembly before this battle? At least Moses would not slander her name.

“Brother,” a man’s voice rasped.

Mahlah stilled. She knew that deep, caress of a voice. And she did not have a sinew of strength to fight with Reuben once again.

Flexing her fingers, she tugged on her head covering so her face stayed hidden behind a drape of cloth. She shifted closer to the nearest tent and waited for the men to move on.

Reuben tapped the hilt of his sword and then slapped Helek on the back. The small band lumbered onward.

Helek spoke into Reuben’s ear.

Her blood became a cool stream.

The men turned. Reuben turned. And gawked. At her.

She captured their glares. Had she not fought for her inheritance in a crowd of jeering men? Her concern for her tribe this morn was not without merit. She did not wish for her people to perish.

Reuben plodded closer to her while the men waited.

“What are you doing out at this hour?” A faint hint of concern softened the grumble of his question.

Easing from the shadows of the tent, she beheld Reuben’s rugged face.

“I heard the scuffle of feet. I thought there might be an attack.”

“Not on our camp.” Reuben grew taller as he puffed out his chest and cast a glance at the men filing down the pathways toward the Tabernacle. “You left the assembly before Moses gave a charge to the tribes. We are to take vengeance on the Midianites for seducing our men into idol worship. The best fighting men from each tribe will do the Lord’s work.”

Visions of Balaam and the half-naked women clamoring for his affections, stirred her stomach.

“I want to forget what I saw in the pit.” She swallowed the sour taste pooling in her throat. “Our God will not forget.”

“Go home, Mahlah. War is no place for a woman.”

“I know.” She hugged her waist as if the night had suddenly grown cooler. “I don’t mind continuing to watch over Jonah.”

Helek let out a low whistle.

Reuben acknowledged their tribesman and then returned his attention to her. “Toda raba.” He winked and then backed away, holding her captive with an esteemed gaze. “Remember me in your petitions to God. May I be as brave in battle as you were in the assembly.”

He nodded and joined the fighting men of Manasseh.

With a slight bob of her chin, she nodded back. Nothing wild. Nothing meek. Nothing to display the geyser of delight springing from her soul. Reuben had not been indignant or rude. He had simply been the boy who lived a tent away from her all her life. He had simply been Reuben.

And it was then, as Reuben and the men of Manasseh marched off into a swarm of tent tops, that deep in her heart she reasoned, even if it was for acquiring land, she grew weary of war.