I looked around for a sign of this Judah but saw none.
“Your father?”
“He’s alive,” I said. “They cut off his tongue.”
To this Saba offered no reaction.
“And your son?”
My resolve to be strong failed me at those words. Tears flooded my eyes.
“They killed him,” I said.
He wasn’t one to show emotion, but he didn’t hide the disgust that crossed his face. “Who did this?”
“Kahil bin Saman. He…” But my throat choked off the telling of how.
“The Thamud are a savage people,” he muttered. He took the dagger of Varus from me and motioned to the cave. “We wait. Judah will come soon.”
I thought to ask him what he knew about our journey, for my father had said Saba would make all things plain, but my heart was too heavy. I walked to the cave and stood, at a loss, watching Saba, who squatted nearby, studying the night.
I was accustomed to hardship, as are all mothers in the desert. A full third of children perished from hunger or disease soon after their birth. Indeed, among some tribes the practice of discarding female infants was accepted. But nothing can prepare a mother for such a loss. The depth of the night sky could not compare to the black void in my chest.
And yet there was something new in that hollow space where my heart had once beat. A dark power that began to give me life. A purpose that fueled my desire to stay alive. A bitterness that burned hot and lit the path before me.
My resolve to restore my father’s honor was now replaced by a terrible need to avenge my son’s death. As I thought of his tiny broken body on the street, nothing else mattered to me. I would do as my father willed not for the Kalb, but for my son’s honor. My hatred for the Thamud and for Maliku, who had led them to Dumah, became a black stone in my chest.
I cursed Maliku. I cursed Kahil and all Thamud. I cursed the gods who had shown my son no mercy.
Saba stood and stared into the night, and I followed his eyes. From the darkness came a man leading two camels, one of them Shunu, my own. This was then Judah, the Jew. He was perhaps twenty, near my own age, younger than the dark warrior. Unlike Saba, he wore a kaffiyeh on his head.
He approached Saba, spoke quickly in soft tones while looking my way, then gave him charge of the camels and came to me. By the light of the rising moon I saw that Judah’s facial hair was neatly trimmed and his eyes were kind, set in a gentle face, distinctly Bedu. He was a handsome man by any standard, and as strong as Saba, though not as tall.
Judah spoke to me with utter sincerity. “As I am the servant of Rami, sheikh of all Kalb, I am the servant of God and now your protector. I will take you swiftly to the land of my people.”
I didn’t know how to respond.
“I am deeply regretful of your loss,” he said in a hushed tone. “The Thamud are dogs.” He spit to one side, then raised a finger to the sky. “The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob will avenge you.”
He lowered his hand and continued.
“I curse Kahil bin Saman, and his father, and all of the Thamud who share in their treachery. God will smite them with his fist and crush their bones to sand, for they know no mercy.”
A passionate man of many words.
“And do your gods?” I asked.
“Do they what?”
“Know mercy?”
He hesitated. “I have only one God, the true God. He shows mercy to those who keep his commandments and crushes those who do not.”
He was the first Bedu I’d met who followed the religion of the Jews, though they were not so uncommon in some parts. I’d heard they worshipped only one god.
“And do you?” I asked.
“Do I what?”
“Follow his commandments.”
“But of course! As best I can. But I have been known to misunderstand them often and fail some on occasion.”
“And when you fail?”
“Then I must once again win his favor.”
“How?”
“With the blood of a goat or an offering of wheat.”
“So, then, you have only one god who’s like all the rest. I would choose many over only one.”
“Yes, but my God is far greater! The only true God. He will protect you, Maviah, for his servant is Judah and he has placed you in my charge.”
I placed no value in his words, for no god had ever prevailed on my behalf. And if my father could be crushed in the space of one battle, what security was there for any ruler or kingdom, much less me?
Still, Judah’s words were kind.
“Thank you.”
Saba had gathered the camels and led them toward us. They could not have been more different from each other, Saba and this Judah. And yet all three of us had a common bond. We had all come to Dumah from far away. We were all Bedu, if not by blood then in life. And we now all shared the same objective, to reach Herod.