This Scarlet Cord Read Free Page A

along with me.”
    They climbed the narrow staircase to the second floor and she followed him to a room at the end of a short hallway. He opened the door and peered in.
    “Father?” Rahab understood the word, but then he began to speak in a language she did not know. A moment later a man walked into view. Rahab peered at him from behind the boy and bit her lip.
    He was tall and stern looking. Rahab waited, poised to run again if she had to. Father and son talked in the strange language, of which she could understand only a few words, then the man looked at her and said in fluent Canaanite, “Come in, little girl. I want to speak to you.”
    Rahab cast an anxious glance up at her savior. He said softly, “It’s all right. No one here will hurt you. This is my father, a good man.”
    Rahab knew she had to trust him, that she had no other choice, and she walked in the door.
    It was a decent size room, with two sleeping mats rolled up in one of the corners. The rest of the furniture was simple wood stools and a large wooden chest that had some clothes neatly folded on top of it.
    “What is your name, my child?” the man asked.
    “Rahab.” Her voice came out as a tremor and she said it again, more clearly, “My name is Rahab.”
    “A pretty name. And where are you from, Rahab?”
    “I am from Ugaru, a village just outside of Jericho.”
    “Tell me what happened to bring you from Jericho to Gaza.”
    The story poured out of Rahab. She didn’t cry until she got to the part about them wanting to sell her to an Egyptian lord as a slave. “They said they would get a fortune for me. What kind of people would pay a fortune for me? I don’t sing or dance. I have no special talents. I think they must have been mad, those bandits. But they wouldn’t let me go! They were going to sell me to someone here in Gaza who would take me on a ship to Egypt.”
    Over her head she saw the eyes of father and son meet. The man said, “Did they hurt you, Rahab?”
    She sniffled. “Of course they hurt me! They hit me and tied my hands so I couldn’t escape. They are horrible, horrible people.”
    The man looked for a long time into her eyes. Then he nodded, as if he was satisfied. “They wanted to sell a virgin. That would get them more money.”
    Rahab shuddered.
    The boy asked, “How did you get away?”
    She told them about the tiny window and how she had managed to squeeze herself onto the roof and jump onto the ground. “I am skinny and I am a good jumper,” she finished proudly. “Even my brothers say I am a good jumper. I once jumped from the top of the stable into the muck pile. It was very far and I didn’t get hurt.”
    “You are an intrepid girl, Rahab,” the man said and he smiled. He looked different when he smiled. “My name is Lord Nahshon, and this is my son, Sala. We are from Ramac.”
    Rahab had never heard of Ramac, but she nodded as if she had.
    “I am happy to know you,” she said politely, the way her mother had taught her.
    Sala said, “We need to return Rahab to her parents, Father. They must be worried about her.”
    Tears sprung into Rahab’s eyes. “Oh, please take me home. My mother will have been crying and crying, wondering what has happened to me.”
    Lord Nahshon sighed. “I will find some way to get you back to your parents, I promise. You are a lucky girl that you got away from those men. Your future with them would have been bleak indeed.”
    “I know,” she replied in a small voice.
    “I will go now and ask the landlady to find a room for you. You need to rest. We will talk later.”
    “Yes, sir. My lord, that is,” Rahab amended hastily. They had lords in Jericho, she knew, but she had never met any. She had lived all her life on her parents’ farm and had never been beyond their local village. But lords were important people, almost as important as the king himself.
    “Stay with her while I go and find the landlady,” Lord Nahshon said to his son in Hebrew. “I had better