the house and peered out between the rough boards of the shutters into the darkened street. Everything was calm and quiet. No soldiers ran through the street ransacking houses and killing people. There was no reason for them to do it.
Joshua had talked to King Manasseh only a few hours earlier. It was the anniversary of his mother’s death. He was going to visit her tomb. Joshua could recall nothing out of the ordinary, certainly nothing that would cause the king’s soldiers to break into his house, ransack it, and then kill his grandfather and his sister. But something had upset Maki. Joshua couldn’t imagine what. He heard a scraping sound and turned to see the servant pushing off the lid of the cistern.
“Listen, Maki,” Joshua said calmly, “I think I should go home and—”
“No, you can’t go home! Master Hilkiah died to protect you. You must hide. If they capture you, then he died for nothing. That’s why I’m helping you. I’m doing this for Master Hilkiah!”
“I’m sorry, but I just can’t believe your story, Maki. There’s no reason for any of it to happen. King Manasseh is my friend. Abba and I work with him. Maybe if I went to the palace and talked to him I could straighten this out and—” “If you walk out of that door, Master Joshua, you are a dead man.”
“I’ll be careful to—”
Suddenly the servant leaped at him, and before Joshua could react, Maki wrestled him to the ground. He was more than a head shorter than Joshua and old enough to be his father, but the servant fought with the strength of a desperate man.
“I can’t let you leave this house,” Maki said as he tied Joshua’s hands behind his back and dragged him toward the opening. “You must get into the cistern. Now!”
———— Dinah lay on the bed, unmoving. Manasseh had finally left her. Now she wanted to die.
The carved bed was inlaid with ivory and spread with fine perfumed linens, but the sheets made her cringe, as if they crawled with scorpions. She trembled at the feel of them beneath her skin. She stood up, nauseated with shock and pain.
The room was dark, but Dinah didn’t search for a lamp. She could hide better in the darkness. She groped her way around the room and found a mikveh, half full of water, behind a latticed screen. The water was cold, but she sank into the bath and began to wash. She was filthy, so filthy. If only she could wash away the memory of him, but the horror was beneath her skin, inside her soul, and no amount of scrubbing would cleanse it. She thought of her mother and began to sob. Mama had been raped, too. But that man had been a stranger, not a trusted family friend. Dinah wasn’t sure which was worse.
When she could no longer endure the frigid water, she climbed out and dressed again. Maybe Manasseh would let her go home now. Abba would hold her in his arms to comfort her and tell her everything would be all right. But she knew that her life would never be the same. She had been disgraced. No one could marry her now except Manasseh, and the thought of marrying him made her want to vomit.
She tried to open the door, but it was locked. So were the window shutters. Dinah curled up on the window seat, hugging her knees, shivering with cold and fear. She closed her eyes tightly, hoping the memory of what he had done to her would fade away, but it wouldn’t. She couldn’t make it stop happening over and over again in her mind.
“God of Abraham, please help me,” she wept. “Please, please help me.”
3
K ING M ANASSEH HAD SLEPT POORLY , his sleep disturbed by restless dreams of intrigue and conspiracy. He didn’t know who to trust in his nightmares, as one by one his faithful servants and friends turned against him, plotting to stab him or strangle him while he slept.
As soon as it was light, Manasseh dressed and began to sort through the scrolls and documents his soldiers had confiscated from Isaiah’s house. He separated them into piles on the table in front of
Joshua had talked to King Manasseh only a few hours earlier. It was the anniversary of his mother’s death. He was going to visit her tomb. Joshua could recall nothing out of the ordinary, certainly nothing that would cause the king’s soldiers to break into his house, ransack it, and then kill his grandfather and his sister. But something had upset Maki. Joshua couldn’t imagine what. He heard a scraping sound and turned to see the servant pushing off the lid of the cistern.
“Listen, Maki,” Joshua said calmly, “I think I should go home and—”
“No, you can’t go home! Master Hilkiah died to protect you. You must hide. If they capture you, then he died for nothing. That’s why I’m helping you. I’m doing this for Master Hilkiah!”
“I’m sorry, but I just can’t believe your story, Maki. There’s no reason for any of it to happen. King Manasseh is my friend. Abba and I work with him. Maybe if I went to the palace and talked to him I could straighten this out and—” “If you walk out of that door, Master Joshua, you are a dead man.”
“I’ll be careful to—”
Suddenly the servant leaped at him, and before Joshua could react, Maki wrestled him to the ground. He was more than a head shorter than Joshua and old enough to be his father, but the servant fought with the strength of a desperate man.
“I can’t let you leave this house,” Maki said as he tied Joshua’s hands behind his back and dragged him toward the opening. “You must get into the cistern. Now!”
———— Dinah lay on the bed, unmoving. Manasseh had finally left her. Now she wanted to die.
The carved bed was inlaid with ivory and spread with fine perfumed linens, but the sheets made her cringe, as if they crawled with scorpions. She trembled at the feel of them beneath her skin. She stood up, nauseated with shock and pain.
The room was dark, but Dinah didn’t search for a lamp. She could hide better in the darkness. She groped her way around the room and found a mikveh, half full of water, behind a latticed screen. The water was cold, but she sank into the bath and began to wash. She was filthy, so filthy. If only she could wash away the memory of him, but the horror was beneath her skin, inside her soul, and no amount of scrubbing would cleanse it. She thought of her mother and began to sob. Mama had been raped, too. But that man had been a stranger, not a trusted family friend. Dinah wasn’t sure which was worse.
When she could no longer endure the frigid water, she climbed out and dressed again. Maybe Manasseh would let her go home now. Abba would hold her in his arms to comfort her and tell her everything would be all right. But she knew that her life would never be the same. She had been disgraced. No one could marry her now except Manasseh, and the thought of marrying him made her want to vomit.
She tried to open the door, but it was locked. So were the window shutters. Dinah curled up on the window seat, hugging her knees, shivering with cold and fear. She closed her eyes tightly, hoping the memory of what he had done to her would fade away, but it wouldn’t. She couldn’t make it stop happening over and over again in her mind.
“God of Abraham, please help me,” she wept. “Please, please help me.”
3
K ING M ANASSEH HAD SLEPT POORLY , his sleep disturbed by restless dreams of intrigue and conspiracy. He didn’t know who to trust in his nightmares, as one by one his faithful servants and friends turned against him, plotting to stab him or strangle him while he slept.
As soon as it was light, Manasseh dressed and began to sort through the scrolls and documents his soldiers had confiscated from Isaiah’s house. He separated them into piles on the table in front of
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