Read Online The Crimson Cord: Rahab's Story by Jill Eileen Smith - Free Book Online Page B

door.
    The king’s guards stood in her courtyard, armed with clubs and swords as if she were a common criminal.
    “What can I do for you?” Rahab lifted her chin, though her voice shook.
    “We seek Rahab, wife of Gamal.” The guard who spoke seemed incredibly young to Rahab, though she herself was only twenty.
    Rahab swallowed a distasteful retort. “I am Rahab.” She would not allow them to see her fear.
    “Wife of Gamal?”
    She nodded. She suddenly had no desire to make this easy on them.
    “You are to come with us. Now.” The guard’s commanding tone sounded older than his years.
    She glanced into the dark house behind her, wondering if she would see it again. She should have rescued the rest of the silver from the floor and given it to her sister to keep forher. But there was no use worrying about such things now beyond her control.
    “Come. No need to gather anything. Your belongings are the king’s property now, and he will dispense of them.” Guards approached her, one on either side, and clutched her upper arms.
    She attempted to free herself. “There is no need to force me. I’m coming.” But they did not release their grip.
    The street was dark save for a few torches in neighboring courtyards and the lone torch carried by one of the guards leading the way. She was dragged, barely able to keep up with their marching feet, back to the very place she had been with Cala that morning. The Hall of Justice.

    Rahab turned on the narrow cot in the dank cell. She had not realized the Hall of Justice had such rooms beneath its surface until the guards locked her away in one. The single torch that stood in the hall outside the stone gate flickered, casting the barest of shadows along the dirt floor. A mouse gnawed something in a corner of the room, and Rahab pulled her feet beneath her robe, barely daring to touch anything. She did not normally fear the insects or night sounds, but to be underground in the dark . . . She shivered, clinging to her cloak, grateful they let her keep it. Why had they not listened and taken her to Dabir?
    She slept fitfully and jumped at approaching footsteps. A guard unlocked the door to her prison. “Come,” he said, his bark sounding unnaturally loud in the enclosed hall. Rahab jumped up and followed close behind, praying with every step that he would not stop.
    Dawn nearly blinded her as they reached the surface and stepped into the public courtyard of the government buildings. A wooden platform had been raised in the center of the court, and men dressed in fine clothes from Jericho and abroad, merchants in colors she did not recognize, filled the area around the platform.
    Guards entered the court from the area of the debtors’ prison, leading a group of scraggly prisoners. Rahab squinted, searching. There. Her pulse jumped in recognition. Gamal followed near the end, head hanging in humiliation. She looked away, ashamed at what he had become, furious with what he had done to them, to her family. She clenched and unclenched her fists, barely reining in her rage. If he were near, she would claw his face with her nails and spit at his feet.
    She drew in a breath, telling herself to calm, and searched the crowd for Tendaji, grateful when no sign of the black man appeared. Perhaps they had freed him to care for his mother. She took some small comfort in that hope.
    The crowds grew as the guards led her to a holding area near the platform. She was not bound as Gamal was and glanced briefly about her, wondering if she could slip past the guards and get lost in the crowd. But one eyed her too closely and seemed to find his only concern to be her safety. There was no escape from this indignity.
    “How much will you give for this one?” the auctioneer shouted to the crowd, pointing to a gaunt-looking man old enough to be her grandfather if he had lived. “Come now, he’s stronger than he looks.” The man laughed and slapped the slave’s bare shoulder.
    The bidding ended