NO ONE IN RAHAB’S FAMILY, ADULT OR CHILD, WOULD ever forget that escape from Jericho. The crumbling walls had buried most of the people in the Lower City, trapping the living as well as the dead under piles of bricks. Screams of pain and terror reverberated throughout the dust-filled air. The Israelites, who were pouring into the city by the thousands, were cutting down those in the streets who had been fortunate enough to escape the toppling wall. All of the guards who had been posted on the walls were buried, and the remaining Jericho military were hopelessly disorganized and defenseless before the Israelite onslaught.
Sala walked close beside Rahab, both of them holding the hands of children. They climbed over piles of fallen bricks, listening to the frantic cries of the injured and trapped. The Israelites had forced open the gate, which was still standing, and Sala kept watching to make certain that the family group stayed together so they could all get out safely. Isaac and Gideon were walking before them, calling out in Hebrew so the armed Israelite warriors would know who they were. If someone lagged behind, they might not make it.
Sala could still hear the screaming as they emerged out onto the plain and began to follow Gideon and Isaac toward the Israelite camp a mile away. The two spies took them to a grouping of tents set up at the eastern end of the camp.
Gideon told Sala, “These tents are for your people. You will find food and water in the smallest tent and our women have already baked you some bread. Stay with them, Sala. Isaac and I must get back to Joshua.”
Sala thanked him and turned to Rahab, who was standing by his side. They both were still holding the children’s hands.
“What did he say?” she asked as Gideon moved off.
“He said these tents are for your family and that there is food and water in the little tent over there. We should start to get everyone settled, I think.”
Rahab’s face was white and strained, her eyes deeply shadowed. “I can still hear the screaming,” she said.
Sala’s heart was wrung with pity as he looked down at her. “You can’t, really. You just think you can.”
She shook her head slightly. “I don’t think I’ll ever stop hearing it,” she said.
The needs of the children helped to keep Rahab from dwelling on the horror of what was happening in Jericho. Her little cousins and nieces and nephews were frightened and tired and thirsty and hungry and all of the families had to decide which tents to take and whom to share them with. In the end the women and children took three of the tents and the men and the older boys shared the last two.
After food and water had been distributed and the children settled in their own places, the sun was setting. Rahab and Atene walked a little distance from the encampment, stopped, and looked toward Jericho. There was a red glow in the sky where the city should be.
“What can that red light be?” Atene said. “It can’t be the sunset—Jericho is to the north of us, not the west.”
The two girls stared at the city, then Rahab said, “It’s fire, Atene. They have set the city on fire.”
Atene inhaled sharply. “If you had not saved those two spies, Rahab, we all would have died in there.”
“Yes.”
They stood in silence, watching as the flames leaped higher into the rapidly darkening sky.
“The walls fell down,” Atene said at last, her voice trembling. “The Israelites shouted and the walls just . . . fell.”
“Yahweh made them collapse.”
“There is no other explanation.”
Rahab turned away from the fire-lit sky and asked Atene the question that had been in her mind all day. “I wonder why Yahweh wanted me to be saved?”
Atene slipped an arm around Rahab’s shoulders. “There must be a reason why you are important to Him, Rahab. And because you are, all of us have been saved as well. Because you taught me about Him, I am going to have a child.”
A child . . . The word resonated in Rahab’s mind. How wonderful to have a child. How wonderful to bring life into the world in the midst of all this suffering and death. My child . . . mine and Sala’s . . .
She closed her eyes and hugged the thought to herself.
Perhaps it is our unborn child who is important to Yahweh. For the first time all day, Rahab’s lips tilted in a smile. They weren’t even married yet and she was planning the importance of their child!
She put her arm around Atene’s waist. “Both of us have been blessed, and I think Yahweh would like us to tell our family how He saved them. In thanksgiving for their lives, they must become worshippers of Yahweh and put aside the false gods of Canaan. They must all become Israelites.”
“They will,” Atene said with utter confidence. “They will.”
The Israelites did not remain long in their camp south of Jericho. The silver and gold and bronze they had taken from Baal’s temple and the homes of the nobles went into the treasury. Following the orders of Joshua, they had not robbed any of the houses in the Lower City or taken any of the food, so they could move quickly since they weren’t burdened down with loot.
Jericho had been burned to the ground along with all the people in it.
After the last of the warriors had returned to camp, leaving behind the smoking ruin of what had once been a living city, Sala wandered among them, speaking to some of the ordinary soldiers as they cleaned their weapons. He was surprised to discover that everyone seemed to know who he was and the part he had played in saving the lives of Gideon and Isaac. They told him that before the battle Joshua had given orders to his commanders that Rahab was to be spared. That order had, of course, been passed down to the rank and file.
Sala was pleased that Joshua had protected Rahab, but he was not pleased by Joshua’s choice of words. In his orders Joshua had referred to her as “Rahab, the harlot who lives in the city walls.” And now all the men in the camp were calling her Rahab, the harlot.
In vain did Sala insist Joshua had misunderstood, that he must have heard a garbled version of Rahab’s role as hierodule from Gideon and Isaac, that she was a virtuous woman and most definitely not a harlot.
Sala could tell by the shared smiles and raised eyebrows that his explanation was not finding fertile ground. The men thought he was trying to protect Rahab’s reputation. Sala even brought the subject up in a private meeting he had with Joshua two days after the battle, but Joshua assured him that he didn’t care what Rahab had been, that she had acted as an agent of Yahweh and he would gladly welcome her into their midst.
During that conversation Joshua also invited Sala to join his military staff. The invitation had stunned Sala, and he had managed to say something courteous about how honored he was and how he would think about it carefully.
When he left Joshua he went to the tent he shared with his father and, lying stretched out on one of the mats, he did think about it.
He was tempted. To serve under Joshua, the successor to Moses, the commander who would retake Canaan for Yahweh’s people, was an awe-inspiring opportunity. But even as he pictured himself leading men into battle, Sala knew he would not accept Joshua’s offer. His future lay with Rahab and he would never ask her to live among people who thought she was a harlot. The thought of what the men were saying made his blood boil.
He decided, however, that he might be able to make some use of Joshua’s invitation to join the army and he remained in the tent, waiting until his father should return.
Sala and Nahshon had been staying in the Israelite camp, not on the outskirts with Rahab’s family. He had seen her only briefly but they had not spoken—she always seemed to be surrounded by children. Anyway, he had to speak to his father before he could approach her about what was important to them both. And he thought Joshua had just put a weapon into his hands.
Lord Nahshon came into the tent a few hours later. When he saw Sala, he groaned and lowered himself to his own mat. “I cannot wait to get home to my own bed. I am too old for sleeping on the hard ground. I want my nice, soft mattress.”
Sala laughed and sat up cross-legged to face his father. “Home,” he said. “It has seemed very far away this last month.”
“It certainly has. But we have done good work, my son. By the time Joshua is finished, Canaan will belong to the Israelites, as Yahweh always intended it should.”
Sala agreed, took a long drink out of a water skin, then told his father about his conversation with Joshua. He ended with the commander’s invitation to him to join the army as part of Joshua’s staff.
“I don’t believe it’s because he thinks I’m so brilliant; I think it’s rather that he would like to have an Israelite who has always lived in this country on his staff.”
Lord Nahshon pushed himself up on his elbow, his brows drawn together. “What did you answer him?”
“I said I would think about it.”
Fear glittered in Nahshon’s eyes. “Sala . . . you are my only son. Your responsibility is to me.”
Sala just looked back at his father and did not reply.
“It was always expected that you would return home after this mission was finished. Ramac is an Israelite city, one of the few that has remained so since over half our people followed Joseph into Egypt. It is the only Israelite port in Canaan. It’s important to the interests of our people that it remain a power on the Great Sea. We need you at home, Sala. Joshua has enough men without you.”
Sala said, “Joshua told me he would accept Rahab into our midst as one of us. He said she was an agent of Yahweh.”
Lord Nahshon’s nostrils flared. “It always comes back to Rahab, doesn’t it, Sala?”
Sala said softly, “I cannot go home unless I marry her and bring her with me. I will not leave her behind.”
Lord Nahshon lay back down, crossing his arms under his head. There was a long silence. Finally he said, with resignation in his voice, “I have changed my mind about Rahab. She is a remarkable young woman and I think Joshua was right when he said she was an agent of Yahweh.” He pushed himself to a sitting position and looked at Sala. “I would be honored to have her as my daughter.”
Happiness flooded through all of Sala’s body. He wanted to leap to his feet and shout for joy, but he contented himself with saying, “Thank you, Father. Thank you. She will be a good daughter to you, I know she will.”
“I hope so,” Lord Nahshon replied, and Sala ignored the tiny note of doubt that sounded in his father’s voice.
“I’ll get one of Joshua’s priests to marry us,” Sala said, jumping to his feet as if he was going to run out the door and find the priest immediately.
“Sala!”
He turned to look back at his father.
“Come back in here. You must get her father’s permission first. And Rahab may not want to be married in a war camp; she might wish to wait until we return to Ramac where the ceremony can be done with all the correct rituals.”
Sala didn’t think so, but he didn’t want to push his father too much. He summoned up his most agreeable voice. “I’ll ask Rahab what she wants to do and I’ll abide by her decision.”
“It will be her father’s decision, Sala. Now, what about the rest of her family? What are they going to do?”
“Shemu told me that their farm is still intact. Joshua didn’t raid south of the river crossing.”
“That is excellent news.” Sala saw the relief on his father’s face and realized Nahshon had been afraid he would be saddled with Rahab’s entire family.
Nahshon said, “Come back in here and sit down. We will speak to Mepu tomorrow morning. I have a few ideas that I want to sleep on.”
Sala exerted all the self-control he was capable of and agreed.
The following afternoon Rahab and Atene were sitting in the shade cast by their tent watching a group of little girls play with the dolls some of the Israelite women had given them. When they saw Mepu and Shemu coming toward them, they both started to get up.
“Sit, sit,” Mepu said, waving them back down as he came up to them. The two men joined them in the shade, careful not to block the women’s view of the children.
Mepu got straight to the reason for his visit. “Rahab, Sala’s father has asked for you in marriage to his son and I have agreed. He has further asked if Sala may take you to live in Ramac, and I have agreed to that as well. I hope you are comfortable with this arrangement.”
Rahab’s smile was more blinding than the sun reflecting off the heads of the children. “Oh, Papa, thank you! Of course I am comfortable with your arrangement!”
Mepu smiled back, as did Shemu. Mepu went on, “There is one more thing to decide, and Lord Nahshon has left the choice to me. So I am asking you, do you wish to be married now, by one of Joshua’s priests, or do you wish to wait until you get to Ramac.”
“Now,” Rahab said. “I want to get married now.”
Atene laughed.
Rahab turned and gave her friend a tight hug. “Oh, Atene! I am so happy!”
“And I am happy for you, my dear, dear sister.” She looked at her husband over Rahab’s shoulder. “What are we going to do, Shemu? Surely you’re not planning to remain with these Israelites?”
Shemu said, “I think we must all be called Israelites now, no matter where we might be. But following an army is no life for a family. We have learned that our farm was not disturbed, so we can return home.”
Atene’s smile was almost as dazzling as Rahab’s. “That will be good.”
Rahab looked at her father. “But without Jericho as a market, where will you sell your wine, Papa?”
Mepu was looking younger than he had in months. “Lord Nahshon told us there is a small Israelite community to the south, at Jerusalem. We can sell some wine to them. But even better, Lord Nahshon has offered to take most of our wine and sell it into Egypt.” He chuckled. “It seems we will be following my original plan after all.”
Shemu grinned. “Lord Nahshon has asked me to supervise all of his wine trade, and he will pay me a handsome salary to do so.”
Rahab and Atene looked at each other, almost dazed by all this good news.
“We won’t be completely separated then,” Atene said.
An angry squeal came from the group of children and Rahab looked over to see that two of them had decided they wanted the same doll. She jumped up to smooth the quarrel and soon had the children playing happily again.
Mepu had risen. “So, shall I go and give Lord Nahshon my answer?”
Rahab ran to give her father a hug. “Yes,” she said into his ear. “And don’t be too long about it!’
He laughed.
It was almost midnight when Rahab slipped out of her tent. Her father and Lord Nahshon had made all the marriage arrangements earlier in the day. There had been no talk of the money and goods that the new husband’s father traditionally gave to the father of the bride before a marriage could be finalized. The business arrangement struck earlier between Nahshon and Mepu would suffice; it was going to be profitable for both men and their families.
Nor was there talk of a betrothal. They were not living in normal times and both fathers agreed to bypass the betrothal so the children could marry and leave for Ramac as soon as possible. As soon as possible turned out to be the following day and arrangements were made with one of Joshua’s priests.
Rahab was so happy and excited that she couldn’t sleep. In the morning she would get her heart’s desire; she would marry Sala. She felt a twinge of sorrow when she thought about leaving her family, but it was only a small drop in the great sea of her happiness.
The night was deeply silent; everyone was asleep. She crept out of the tent and walked a little distance from the encampment, shivering in the chill night air. Smoke was still rising from the ruins of Jericho, but Rahab did not look in that direction. Instead she faced east, toward the place where the Great Sea lay, where her new home would be. She looked up into the sky and her breath caught at the magnificent display in the blackness of the overreaching heavens. She felt as if Yahweh was shining each and every one of those brilliant starry lights just for her.
He had been so good to her. He had saved her family from destruction and given them a future. Most of all, He had given her Sala, without whom her life would be like a sky filled with heavy dark clouds and rain. Instead she had the stars.
“Thank You, Yahweh,” she whispered into the cool night air. “Thank You for choosing me to be Your servant.”
A soft step sounded behind her and she turned to see Sala come up to her side. She smiled up at him. “You couldn’t sleep either?”
“No.” He put his arm around her and she rested her head on his shoulder.
They stood for a while in silence, their eyes upon the dazzling blanket of stars. Then he bent his head and buried his lips in her hair. “I love you so much. You have been through so many terrible things, Rahab, but now you have me to take care of you. I will make you happy. I promise you that. I will make you happy.”
She slid her arm around his waist and turned her body into his. “I know you will, Sala. And I will do my best to make you happy too.”
“You make me happy just by existing,” he said, his voice muffled by her hair.
She tilted her head to look up at him. “I know one thing that would make me happy.”
“And what is that, my love?”
“A ride in a boat.”
He laughed, a free, carefree laugh that lifted her heart and made her smile.
He said, “I will buy you your own little sailboat and you can go out whenever you want. And if ever any man questions your freedom, you will say that you are Rahab and you saved the warriors of Israel.”
She chuckled. “I will remember that.”
“Yahweh has been good to us,” he said, his voice suddenly grave.
“I know. Remember how you once told me that I had to listen for Him?”
“Yes.”
“That is what we both must do, now and for the rest of our lives. Listen for Him and do His will.”
“Yes. We will always do that.”
He held her close to him, so close that she could feel the beating of his heart through their clothing. Then with deliberate resolution, he moved away. “Tomorrow night we will be man and wife, but for now I think it’s best if we go in.”
She stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. “All right.”
He picked up her hand and the two of them walked side by side back to the camp.