“I spoke the truth. The Kohen serves only the Holy One. Tell me, Lev, can you think of any greater service to the Holy One right now than keeping the prophets alive?”
My ears grew hot with shame. I could not hold back the words on my heart. “Ovadia tricked me.”
My master’s eyes grew wide. “Tricked you? How?”
“He told me I must persuade you to come to the cave, even against your will.”
“Which you did.”
“Yes, but he let me believe I’d be able to hide with you.”
“Did he ever say this to you?”
I paused. It had only been a week since Ovadia told me to bring Uriel to the cave, but it already felt like another lifetime. “No, but he never told me I would be his servant either.”
“Had he told you this, would you have brought me here?”
I frowned. “No, Master.”
“Then he was wise to remain silent. The fool sees only what is in front of him, the wise anticipate what will come to be.”
“So I am a fool?”
Uriel placed his hand on my knee. “You have not learned to see as far ahead as Ovadia. Indeed, for him to remain in the palace and keep all of us alive, he would soon perish were it not for his wisdom.”
“I still don’t like being tricked.”
“You are too quick to cast blame, Lev.” He tapped my knee so I would look up. “Was it a trick that he allowed you to hear what you wanted to? Ovadia does not need any more mouths to feed—he needs more hands to help.”
I balled my fists but kept my face calm. Ovadia had outsmarted me, and now I was his slave.
“You cannot change the past, Lev. All you can do is choose how to approach the future. I feel your anger toward Ovadia. You even directed it toward Peleh and Sadya, who have done nothing but help the prophets and learn our ways.”
“Didn’t you say I shouldn’t hide my feelings, Master?”
“You must not hide from your feelings. Only by acknowledging them can you hope to change them.”
“Isn’t changing my anger simply another way to hide from it?”
The old prophet sighed. “Be not so clever that you cannot hear simple truths, Lev. Your anger will not serve you. As long as you hold it dear, it will compromise your ability to help anyone, even yourself.”
Uriel stretched his arms above his head. “Do you recall the first lesson I ever taught you on our journeys together?”
Several moons had passed, but I could easily picture myself walking away from Levonah with my master. “You spoke to me about how Jacob could not reach prophecy because he was mourning the loss of his son, Joseph.”
“Never forget this, Lev. Prophecy only descends in a state of joy. Just as joy may open the gates of prophecy, your anger makes you easy prey for the Baal and other dark forces that Izevel is mustering against us.”
My heart went cold. “How do I protect myself?”
“You must strengthen your will.”
It was as if my master had heard my dream. “I’m trying, Master. I’ve ground flour from dawn till dusk each day since we parted.”
“It is not enough to exert your will outside of yourself. You must direct it inwards.” He paused to let his words sink in. “You wish to learn the ways of the prophets? Strengthen your heart until your life flows outward from it. That is the way of the prophets. If your heart follows that which lies outside of you, you will fail yourself and us in the difficult days ahead.”
“How do I strengthen my heart, Master?”
“The first step on the path of wisdom is always to listen. Never ignore your heart’s message, but beware, not every feeling is an expression of higher will.” The old prophet paused, then added, “The sun will soon set. As you grind tomorrow, think on what we spoke of today. Strengthen your heart, Lev, and your arms will never fail you.”
Bread of falsehood tastes sweet, but afterward one’s mouth will be filled with gravel.
Proverbs 20:17
2
An Old Friend
All the next day I struggled to apply my master’s words, to keep a grasp on my emotions as I dragged the grindstone back and forth. Perhaps the prophets found it easy to master their hearts, but the disciples worked for years under the watchful eye of a master prophet. Uriel was crazy if he thought a few choice words would teach me a skill it took others years to develop.
I piled another batch of flour on top of the powdery mountain rising beside me. The bin of barley kernels waiting to be ground was even larger, but I couldn’t bring myself to reach in and take another handful. I wiped my forehead and lay the upper grindstone on the lower one. I needed a break.
Cool winter air dried my sweat as I stepped out into the courtyard. My breath still came short from the grinding, though standing in this cramped courtyard brought little relief. I eyed the gate. Didn’t Ovadia keep saying I was valuable because no one ever took notice of me? I was already allowed to leave the house to deliver bread, so why shouldn’t I step out to get some air?
I unlocked the gate and pushed it open. No doubt Batya signaled some objection behind me, but I kept my eyes forward knowing she wouldn’t dare scream out or pursue me.
The alleyway was empty, as it almost always was. Once away from the house, I no longer had to worry about being associated with Ovadia. There was no reason I shouldn’t walk around without fear.
When I hit the main road, I turned up the street toward the palace rather than taking my usual route down to the city gates. My footsteps were light with freedom, brief though it might be. The last time I walked this stretch of road was three months before, during the King’s wedding, when I was just a shepherd boy, and Uriel was still free to roam the land as a prophet. Now everything had changed.
