TWENTY-NINE

The Egyptian knew that the group would not last.

All night they pushed through the Judean forests and canyons, heading southwest as much as possible. The Egyptian had led them in and out of narrow canyons and wadis to throw off anyone following. The trade routes were to the southwest, and he would need to reach them to have any hope of escape. Morning had come and etched the sky above them with gray streaks among the stars before revealing enough light to see the canyon path.

By dawn, they had reached the end of the canyon lands and were able to see the deserts of the south, which they would need to cross before he would feel safe and free. He hurried them along.

Now that the sun was out, he knew that the farther they pressed into the desert, fatigued to the point of hallucination, the less likely he would be able to maintain discipline. He threatened death to the captured women if they resisted, then ordered the group to stop for a water break, since there were still many hours to go until the next settlement of Amalekites. But now he faced a dilemma. He did not want to take refuge in an Amalekite village; the people might start asking questions. But if he did not, then all of them would die in the Negev, either by the hand of that Hebrew warlord or from lack of water.

Their escape had been inglorious; the gods had cruelly spared them the fate of death by combat and driven them out into the wilderness with only a couple of whores and no dignity. He was no longer a well-paid mercenary spy in Amalek, but he had many options. He could earn as much if he went to Moab or even back to Philistia before making his first report to Pharaoh.

The woman he had taken earlier was watching him. He spoke to her in her tongue. “Your men are mighty fighters, I will give them that.”

She lowered her eyes and waited for the skin of water to come to her. He was not a man who raped; he considered it barbaric. But he was a man like any other. He desired her. She had been compliant in everything until then. Perhaps she would be compliant further.

Sherizah examined her bloody feet and then drank deeply of the water skin when Deborah passed it to her. Sand and grit burned in her throat, and it hurt when the hot water washed over it. The frightening warrior was watching her again. His looks had been growing hungrier, and her silent prayers increased whenever he was near.

One of the ten soldiers began to argue with his companion. Sherizah did not understand their language but knew it had to do with water, since the man was waving his gut skin around and pointing at the offending soldier. The Egyptian ordered them to be silent, but they ignored him and continued arguing until one of them punched the other in the neck.

The struck man fell but pulled out a dagger and lunged for the kill. The others ran to break up the fight, but someone threw a blow that hit the wrong man, and it quickly escalated into a battle of every man against the other. They fought like a herd of wild animals, clawing and biting, savage and undisciplined.

One soldier stayed out of the scuffle. Sherizah watched him slowly move to where the bag of captured gold was lying near a rock, exposed and unguarded. The Egyptian was now in the middle of the fight, trying to break it up, his massive arms knocking men left and right.

The soldier sprang forward, grabbed the bag, and rushed toward the canyons in the distance. But it was heavy, and he was forced to drop his weapons to carry it. If he could get enough of a head start on the group, Sherizah realized, he could disappear into the maze of hollowed gullies and ridges before they caught him. She looked back at the fighting men, still lunging at each other despite the massive Egyptian’s efforts. She leaned closer to Deborah and said, “If they run after the man and leave us, we need to escape.”

“What if they leave a guard?” Deborah replied.

“We will run as soon as they notice him missing. That will force them to choose which to pursue,” Sherizah said. She looked over at Rizpah, who nodded. Deborah seemed uncertain but nodded her head also. They waited.

The first man to notice the missing soldier was the Egyptian. He looked up from the fight and saw the figure racing across the desert with the bag over his shoulders.

The Egyptian bellowed as loud as he could. “He has your war prize!”

The men stopped fighting at the mention of the gold and began to claw at each other to regain their footing. The Egyptian ran to where he had laid his weapons and realized suddenly that the women too were gone. He shouted again at his men, who looked back toward him, saw his pointing arm — and then the fleeing Hebrew women.

The Egyptian had to make a decision: chase the thief first or capture the women. He had no intention of letting either get away. The man would be slow with his bundle and could be caught later, but the women, if they escaped, might give away their location to David’s men.

And he wanted that Hebrew woman with the dark eyes.

“Up the hill after them, now!”

The men hesitated.

The Egyptian shouted again. “If you go after the women, you can have them immediately, but hold the one with her hair tied up for me. Just be quick about it. I will get the gold back.”

Their faces lit up. Some of them had not had a woman in many months, and these were the chief’s women, choice among the captives. They turned and ran up the sandy slope. The Egyptian, carrying only his spear, ran after the fleeing robber, his great strides flying.

He saw the thief in the distance look over his shoulder and panic. The fleeing soldier snagged his foot in a patch of brush and shouted as he hit the ground. The gold pieces crashed across the desert around him. The Egyptian did not slacken his pace. He closed on the hapless soldier struggling to free his leg.

The man shouted for mercy, but the Egyptian buried his spear in the thief’s chest, withdrew it, and circled past the man’s quivering body without breaking stride. He left the gold where it was, to be picked up after the women were caught.

He ran steadily in the direction of the women’s escape. He could see them now; they had already reached the cleft in the rock at the source of the canyon. One of the soldiers had caught hold of the slower Hebrew woman and was tearing at her garments. It was not the woman the Egyptian desired. The woman he wanted was almost to the cliff. She would be his, and he would not share her.

As the man who had reached the first one clawed at her body, the Egyptian saw something fly through the air and strike the soldier. The man jerked backward, and the woman, struggling to gather her clothing, screamed and resumed running up the hillside toward the gap.

The Egyptian looked up. Three Hebrew warriors were charging over the ridge.