By sunset the people had split up into their tribal and family units, each gathering around their own fires, and the singing was lighter, happier, songs of the home and the people themselves. Dancing started here and there, men and women in separate circles, laughing and weaving around their fires as they stamped their feet on the dusty ground.
Ben-Jameen sent a boy to invite me to his family’s tent, but I politely declined, since his invitation did not include Helen. Israelite men and women ate separately, of course, just as they danced.
I was waiting for Joshua’s summons, and sure enough, as we were finishing dinner, a young man in a newly acquired bronze cuirass approached our fire and told me that Joshua wished to have words with me.
I told Helen and Lukka to be ready to leave, then followed the young Israelite to his leader’s tent.
Joshua’s tent was crammed with the spoils of Jericho: beautiful cypress chests inlaid with bone and ivory and packed to the brim with fine clothing, piles of draperies and blankets, tables sagging under loads of gilded plates and goblets, intricately engraved daggers, swords and armor, enamelware, pottery and wine jugs, heaps of jewelry and carvings.
I took it all in with one swift glance, then looked up to Joshua. He was sitting on a mound of pillows at the far end of the tent, dressed in splendid robes like an oriental potentate. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the three serving girls, who ran past me on bare feet, leaving us alone in the tent.
“Take your pick,” said Joshua, gesturing grandly toward the loot. “Whatever you want is yours. And take some jewelry for your beautiful companion.”
I walked past the treasures, straight to him, and sat on the carpeting at his feet.
“Joshua, I neither want nor need any of this. I want you to live up to your promise, and let us go in peace now that we have helped you conquer Jericho.”
There was no wine in sight. His hands were empty, his eyes clear. But he seemed almost drunk. Perhaps with victory. Perhaps with visions of future conquests.
“God has placed you in my hand, Orion,” he said. “It would displease Him if I let you go.”
“You speak for your god now?”
His eyes narrowed angrily. But he replied mildly enough, “Our next objective will be the Amalekites. They threaten our flank, and must be destroyed utterly.”
“No,” I said.
“You and your Hittite warriors are too valuable to give up,” Joshua said. “Not while there are so many enemies around us.”
“We must leave.”
He raised a placating hand. “When we have made this region peaceful. When the Children of Israel can live here safely, without being threatened by their neighbors. Then you can leave.”
“That could take years,” I said.
He shrugged. “It is in God’s hands, not mine.”
I made myself smile at him. “Joshua, surely you of all men can understand the yearning of a man to be free. I have no desire to be a slave to you or your god.”
“A slave?” He pointed toward the loot again. “Is a slave rewarded so handsomely?”
“A man who is not free to go where he wishes is a slave, no matter how many trinkets his master offers him.”
He ran his fingers through the curls of his beard. “Then I’m afraid you will be a slave for a while longer, Orion. You and your Hittite soldiers.”
“That cannot be,” I insisted.
“If you resist,” Joshua warned, his voice as mild as if he were discussing the weather, “your men will pay for your stubbornness. And your beautiful woman.”
I had expected this so exactly that I was not even mildly surprised. Not even angry. I simply got to my feet and looked down at him.
“Ben-Jameen tells me,” I said, “that your god struck the Egyptians with many plagues before their king would allow you to leave the land. I can’t promise you plagues, but you will be sorry that you force us to stay.”
Joshua’s face turned deep red, whether from anger or shame I did not know. I left him sitting there and made my way back to my own tent.
Lukka and Helen both asked me eagerly if we were leaving.
“At dawn,” I answered. “Now get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a hard day.”
Chapter 33
HELEN was right about the Israelites’ laxness that night. Jericho’s men were slaughtered; the city’s women and children cowered in the blackened remains of their burned and looted homes. There was no need for guards or sentries. The Israelites slept soundly after a day of ceremonies and celebration.
I picked my way silently through the darkness toward Joshua’s tent. The only light came from the smoldering embers of campfires and the splendor of stars overhead. The hazy glow of the Milky Way split the heavens, and as I glanced upward I wondered once again which of those stars my love and I had been heading for when we died.
No time for memories. No time for bitterness. I reached Joshua’s tent and stepped over the bodies of the servants sleeping just outside its entrance.
It was pitch-dark inside the tent. I felt my way toward Joshua, guided by the faint heat radiating from his body. Like a pit viper, I laughed to myself, although my heat-sensing abilities were mere vagaries compared to the refined sensitivities of a rattlesnake. Nonetheless, I sensed a faint emanation from the far end of the tent and groped toward it.
I made out Joshua’s sleeping form when I was a few feet from him. He lay on his side, his back to me, stretched out on the pillows where I had seen him a few hours earlier, still wearing his splendid robes.
He slept alone. Good.
I reached out and clamped my left hand over his mouth. He awoke instantly and started to thrash out with his arms and legs. I leaned my right forearm against his windpipe and whispered: “Do you want the angel of death to visit this tent?”
His eyes went wide. He recognized me and became still.
Without taking my hand from his mouth I pulled him to his feet and said, “You and I are taking a little journey.”
Then I concentrated on shifting to the realm of the Creators. I closed my eyes for a moment and felt that instant of piercing cold, then the warmth that glowed all around us. Joshua was still in my grasp, my left hand over his mouth, my right gripping his shoulder.
We stood on a height overlooking a vast domed city. The entire landscape was bathed in golden radiance, and I realized that for the first time I could see details of this realm with some clarity. The city spread out below us was a wonderland of graceful towers and spires, all within the protective curve of a huge transparent dome.
Joshua’s eyes were bugging out of his head. I took my hand away from his mouth, but no words came from him. He simply stared, his jaw hanging open.
“Orion, really! This is too much!”
I turned to see the slim dark-haired Hermes.
“Now you’re bringing other creatures along with you,” he scolded. “If any of the others see this…”
“You mean you don’t tell them everything?” I gibed back at him.
He grinned. “Not immediately. We have no secrets among ourselves, of course; information is shared whether we like it or not. But if I were you, I would get out of here before the others decide you’re becoming too bold.”
“Thank you. I will.”
“See to it,” he said, and disappeared.
Joshua’s knees gave way and I had to prop him up. With a final glance around, to register every detail as firmly in my mind as I could, I closed my eyes again and willed us back to where we had come from.
I opened my eyes in the darkness of Joshua’s tent. He was collapsed in my arms, trembling uncontrollably.