This Scarlet Cord Read Free

their tantalizing smell when it dawned on him that he was starving. Luckily he had some money with him, and he bought one of the cakes and leaned against the side of an old mud-brick building to enjoy it.
    He had just finished the cake and was dusting his hands together to get the stickiness off when he saw a young girl hurrying down the street in his direction. Her long hair was flying loose and she was almost running. There were plenty of girls of all ages, shapes, and sizes in the market, but what caught Sala’s attention was the look of sheer terror on this little girl’s face.
    When she was almost abreast of him, he found himself stepping in front of her and saying in Canaanite rather than his native Hebrew, “Are you all right? Can I help you?”
    She pulled up short and tilted her head back to stare at him. Her eyes were dilated and she was breathing hard. She cast a hunted look over her shoulder.
    “Let me by!” There was a hysterical note in her voice.
    Sala tried to make his voice sound quiet and trustworthy. Her fear was so palpable he could almost smell it. “I can see something is wrong. Please, won’t you let me help you? I won’t hurt you, I promise.”
    She bit her lip so hard that blood sprang out. “How can you help me?”
    She was young, Sala could see. Her eyes reminded him of a terrified animal, cornered and fighting for its life. “You tell me that. I can see you are afraid. Are you running away from someone?”
    If she said she was a runaway slave, he wasn’t sure what he could do. But something about her made him think she wasn’t a slave. And he wanted to help her.
    Her face was damp with perspiration, but suddenly she began to shiver as if she was cold. “I was kidnapped by evil men and they are going to sell me as a slave! I managed to get away but I know they are looking for me.”
    Sala didn’t doubt her. It was well known that girls of good families were often kidnapped and sold into slavery. “Come with me,” he said, and reached for her hand.
    After the briefest of hesitations, she put her hand in his and let him lead her back into the warren of streets he had just come through. She wanted to run but he stopped her. “We don’t want to call attention to ourselves.”
    He shortened his long stride so she didn’t have to skip to keep up with him. “Where were you when you escaped?” he asked, trying to focus his attention ahead and not on what might be behind them.
    “I think we were on the outer part of the city. They had a big caravan of donkeys and horses that they put into an open field, but they brought me to an inn.” For a little girl, she had a remarkably husky voice.
    He tried to sound calm and practical. “I think I should take you back to the inn where I am staying. My father is there and he will protect you. He is an important man; no slavers will dare to question him.”

    Rahab thought this was an excellent idea. She had prayed to Asherah and the goddess had sent this boy to help her. She gripped his long, slender fingers with her smaller hand and hurried as hard as she could to keep up with him.
    He knows exactly where he’s going. He has to be a native of this city .
    For some reason, she trusted him. His grip was so reassuring. He seemed so grown-up and sure of himself. Her initial terror was fading into a sense of security. This boy and his father would take care of her.
    Finally the boy said, “Here we are. This is the inn where I am staying.”
    It was a much nicer looking inn than the place where the kidnappers had taken Rahab, and she tried to smooth down her disheveled hair and straighten her robe as they walked into a tiny entry room.
    “Remain here, and I will get my father,” the boy said.
    Suddenly her terror returned. “No!” Rahab grabbed his arm as tightly as she could. “Don’t leave me. I want to stay with you.”
    He looked down into her face and she held her breath. Then he gave her a faint, comforting smile. “Very well. Come