“There is no need to be embarrassed. It is the way of life. But a man cannot encompass two desires at once. Moses separated from his wife to always stand ready for prophecy. These prophets too have wives, but when they gather, they gather alone.”
The first time I ever saw a man bake bread was at the gathering in Emek HaAsefa. I thought it strange at the time, but only now did I realize that not a single woman had entered the valley during the time I was there. Now I was the one helping to bake the bread. The thought of the oven brought my eyes to my hands.
The glance was not lost upon Tamar. “Where did you get those burns?”
“Baking bread for the prophets,” I replied.
Tamar pulled a small vial from beneath her robe. “Hold out your hand.” She poured a single drop of oil onto my fingertips. “Now rub that in.” I rubbed my fingers together, and a coolness passed over my hands. “I bless you to find your true calling Lev, for baking bread is surely not it.”
“No, but I’m getting better.”
Her eyes held a warmth I had not yet seen. “I am sure you are. Why has a woman’s job fallen to you?”
“Batya, Ovadia’s wife, bakes the bread. I mostly help with the grinding now. They had to send away all of their servants—no one can know what we’re doing.”
“Indeed, the tongues of maidservants are notoriously loose, but the man has not been born who can bring my tongue under his control.”
Was she saying what I thought?
“I cannot remain here, Lev. A prophet’s heart must serve one master if he is to remain a prophet, and a woman born to service will not be locked up and fed. If Batya sent away her maidservants then their quarters sit empty, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Take me to her home.”
This had to end. Whatever Tamar’s objections to staying in the cave, walking into the capital was insane. “You are hunted! Don’t forget the dead priests as well. Do you think we can walk you past the guards of Shomron?”
“The men you fear have heard of a prophetess on the run, but they have never seen me.”
I held back a laugh. If any woman looked like a prophetess, it was Tamar. She was younger than Aunt Leah, with sharp cheeks and a flat chin. It was her eyes that gave her away. Their depth was not that of a simple woman. She stood straight, as if labor had never bowed her back. Even if she changed the brown, fine-wool cloak fastened tight about her neck for poorer garments, she would never pass for one of the people of the land. If I were charged with spying out a prophetess, there is no way I would allow her through the gates.
The lamplight reflected in her eyes. “Judge not by what you now see. I am a woman who knows my power as well as my place. I restrain myself in the presence of my brothers to avoid clouding their minds, but weak-minded guards will be clay in my hands. I can shape their vision of me into whatever form I desire.”
Tamar might be confident, but I was not. The risk was too great. If she were caught, we would all be lost.
“Fear not,” she said, “I will do nothing to endanger you, or anyone else. We will enter the city separately. Should I fail, the consequences will fall upon my head alone.”
“And if Batya should refuse your service?”
“Then I will turn elsewhere, for I will not remain here. But why should she refuse?”
I was out of objections. “Very well. When would you like to go?”
“At once.”
I knew the answer before she said it, and my knees sagged at the thought of the walk to Shomron. I needed to sleep, and here with the prophets was the perfect place to do so. But Tamar’s needs were greater than my own, and she would have no rest as long as we remained.
Ovadia’s donkey waited for us outside the cave, already packed by Sadya. He had even strapped my sleeping mat on top. As we stepped out under the open sky, Tamar paused behind the olive tree. She loosened the cloak at her neck to expose her throat and pulled back her hood, setting free a few strands of hair. When she stepped out from the shadow of the tree, there was a subtle sway to her step that had not been there before.
She gave me a full-lipped smile which softened the sharp lines of her cheeks. With her hood down, her hazel eyes shone in the sunlight. Then her smile disappeared, and her eyes went dark. “All this I’ve done for any stray eyes that should happen to catch us on our journey. You keep your gaze forward. Whatever thoughts I may invoke in others, to you I remain a prophetess.”
I whipped around and led the donkey down the terraces. Only once I hit the trail did Tamar descend and follow from a distance. When I reached the gates of Shomron, I passed through as easily as always. The attention of the guards was already fixed behind me.
Though Tamar had warned me to keep my eyes forward, I could not help but stop twenty paces from the gate and turn to watch. The guards’ eyes followed her as she approached, and I reached for my father’s knife under my tunic. Tamar must have felt their suspicions, for she hurried through the gate, her hand drawing her cloak tight about her neck.
Why was I so stupid? I never should have listened to her. I watched as her composure fell apart under the gaze of the guards. I unfastened the knife from my thigh. I would not let another prophet die as I watched.
The Tzidonian stared at Tamar as she passed through the gate, but did not reach for his sword. A grin spread across his face as he watched her, then his eyes drifted back to the next person approaching the gate.
“Eyes forward, Lev,” the prophetess said as she passed me, her voice perfectly calm.
I hurried up the hill of Shomron, passing her on the road. At the corner of Ovadia’s street, I stopped to tighten the straps on the saddlebag. Heads turned to watch Tamar, and with all attention on her, none saw my subtle sign. I remained at the corner after she passed to make sure no one followed, but once Tamar stepped out of sight, those on the main road returned to what they were doing as if she had never passed.
I caught up to Tamar and led her to Ovadia’s door. I raised the hammer to bang on the gate, but she held up her hand.
“Not yet,” she said. “I am about to enter another woman’s domain.” She refastened her cloak at the neck and tucked the loose hairs back under her hood.
She looked at me with piercing eyes. “I have left your mind untouched, but I wanted you to get a glimpse. I have the power to enter a man’s dreams, or his nightmares. Lest you ever come to consider your thoughts to be your own, remember that moment back at the gate. Each of those guards considered himself strong and me weak. Yet, I chose what they saw. I wished to draw their attention and hold it for only a moment. I could as easily make them fear me or fall sick with desire, but neither would have served our purposes.
“There is nothing unique about these gifts. If you were only battling in the world of men, it might do to strengthen your body, but Izevel will use all her powers to achieve her ends. To survive in her realm, you must strengthen your will.
“Now, knock upon the gate.”
One’s gifts make room for them, and bring them before the great.
Proverbs 18:16
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