“The stew is good,” Mary replied. She answered Netta’s question about the food she brought. Mary felt like she had to speak up due to the noise in her home, with various citizens of Rakkath paying their respects to Amias. She couldn’t believe the difference between the previous night and that day. It was the sound of rain that was intermittently drowning out the conversation between her and Amias. She gave him almond-flavored tea, which he hated, and water to soothe the cough. The following day was filled with noises that echoed through the home, including casual conversations, reminiscing about Amias’ stories, Mary’s wellbeing, and the food set to the side of the main living quarters.
Amias’ body was near the front door so people could pay their respects and then reconvene to talk amongst themselves. Mary started her day near his body, but the continuous display of condolences and saddened faces was too much for her while she stood by her deceased husband. Sometimes, the mere mention of his name brought back memories of their life together and the drumming of the rain as he relayed the truth of them owing Kalil a sum of money she didn’t have.
“I’m glad you like it,” Netta said. “Family recipe,” Netta paused and continued, “my brother loved lamb stew.” Netta was fighting back tears of her own. Mary patted her friend on the arm and nodded. Mary didn’t know Netta’s brother but heard he died in Netta’s homeland of Phoenicia. He passed right before she came to Rakkath to marry Tal, a local sheepherder.
“How’s Tal? Is the sheep doing okay?” Mary asked. She looked up at Netta and gave what she hoped was a pleasant look.
Netta smiled and said, “He’s doing great. Wish he could be here but had to oversee some financial situations.”
“Oh,” Mary responded.
Netta looked over to the front of the home, and Mary followed her gaze. She was staring at Amias and the people congregating around his body. Two of them were Sava and Yuta, Rakkath’s mourners who were cousins. For any death in the community, the cousins offered their services for decent compensation at the funeral procession. This allowed the family to be strong while the mourners could display all the raw emotions to God on the family’s behalf. Earlier that day, both showed up at Mary’s home offering their services and this time for nothing. They loved Amias’ words of comfort and were genuinely sad about his passing.
“Tal made sure to pick one of the best lambs for this stew,” Netta said.
“You gave one of your best?” Mary asked in disbelief. She looked at the nearby food table and knew most people didn’t do the same. A variety of vegetable soups mainly consisted of water and a dash of seasonings. Families brought fruit, but they weren’t the best. Most of it was the misshapen fruit people overlooked as they bought the best. A few people had some meat, mostly a variety of birds that were chopped, diced, or pulled in flavorless stews. The standouts were Netta’s dish, Rashida’s offering, and a newcomer to Rakkath that Mary didn’t even know who brought fresh cooked fish. Mary couldn’t cook because Amias’ body would have made the home unclean. She was very thankful that the neighbors brought food to help her, Amir and Amit, and the guests at her home.
“Yes,” Netta said with a smile draped across her face. “Tal and I believe it was worth it.” Netta approached Mary and whispered, “Plus, we saved some of the stew for our meals as well.”
Mary laughed a little and nodded. “As long as it doesn’t hurt. These drought conditions are so harmful. How are you doing?”
“How am I doing,” Netta murmured. Netta smiled and then sighed. Mary could tell that she was going to answer but stopped partway through her response. Netta closed her eyes, opened them, and then shook her head. “Today is not about me. It’s about you. Besides, we have what we have when the collectors come.”
Mary paused while eating and glanced at Netta. The background noise of people admiring Amias at the front of the home seemed to soften. It didn’t, but Netta’s retort made her focus on her neighbor’s response. “Collector,” Mary whispered. The mention of the collector caused Mary to think of her sons. She was happy they were on the side of the home, playing with the guests’ children or creating some ways to grieve with their various friends from Rakkath. Mary hoped they were releasing the strain of seeing their father wrapped in burial cloths.
“Tal wouldn’t want me to discuss personal business, but we’re hoping that the collector we owe will give us time, or he accept what we have for now.”
Mary nodded and took another bite. Based on what Amias said, many men in Rakkath owed collectors for their failing farms or herds of animals. She hoped it wasn’t Kalil but had a feeling it was. Mary savored the bite of food and saw her neighbor Tamir enter the home and Rashida with her husband Phashar mingling with the people. Seeing Tamir and Rashida was expected as her closest friends. However, Upaz, the wealthiest resident in Rakkath, and his petite size niece, Yardena, startled her. Netta followed Mary’s gaze and groaned when she saw the two people enter the home with their respective guards. No one else with wealth entered the room in such a fashion, but Upaz always believed someone could be dangerous and a threat to his finances and family.
“I know what you mean,” Mary whispered.
“What?” Netta snapped her attention back to Mary, breaking her undaunting gaze towards Yardena.
“Amias took a loan to help during these hard times,” Mary said. There was constant chatter from the people, but she knew that it was only a matter of time before someone would come to offer condolences for her loss. Still, she wanted to speak with Netta because of their comparable situation. “I understand why he did it,” Mary started. “Wish Kalil wasn’t the person.”
Netta paused from taking her last bite and stared into Mary’s eyes. “That’s who Tal owes,” Netta said softly. Mary knew what she said by reading her lips.
Mary sighed and said, “So many people owe him money.”
“It was a rough time,” Netta responded. “Still is. They did what was necessary for us.”
“I know,” Mary started, “but Kalil.”
“No one knew who he was. Stories of him came later.”
Mary was about to respond when a loud commotion occurred towards the front of the house. Both women looked over to see Netta’s mother near Amias’ body, stumbling into the nearest mourner.
“I need to pay my respects,” Culdah slurred out.
“Tal was supposed to keep mother at home,” Netta muttered. She left Mary’s side, passed by Tamir, who was heading in their direction, and grabbed Culdah by the arm. Mary could see her whisper something in her mother’s ear. She pointed to the body, nodded, and led her out of the house.
“I’m still moving his body tomorrow, correct?” Tamir asked. Her neighbor’s sudden voice broke her attention as Netta dealt with her mother.
“Yes, of course,” Mary responded. “Thank you for your assistance.” Tamir nodded and proceeded to get some of Netta’s stew.
“That woman loves to stay loose,” Mary said, referring to Culdah.
Tamir smiled and nodded. “How are you doing?” Tamir asked.
Mary looked at Tamir and could see a deep sadness in his eyes. He was close to the family and regularly visited Amias for help and direction. Her sons often helped him with the animals, and it allowed him to have children in his life ever since the tragedy of losing his wife and daughter to the horrible fire in Dan.
“I know how you feel,” Mary said. Both blew out a deep sigh. Tamir paused to eat, then took another bite. His eyes told Mary that the enjoyment stayed at his mouth but never reached his eyes.
“I miss them so much,” Tamir said. Mary wanted to reach out and hug her neighbor, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t stoke the fires of gossip and insinuation. “I said the same thing to Terach after Shireen and Naami’s…” Tamir couldn’t finish the rest, and Mary understood.
When talking with Amias during the rainstorm, Mary could not handle her husband's treatment of the situation as if it were the end. To her, she had time, but Amias knew better. Mary didn’t want to accept life without Amias, no different than Tamir didn’t imagine living without his wife Shireen and Naami, his daughter. Even Tamir’s brother went through a tragic loss when his wife, Lila, died.
“Amias was there for me,” Tamir said.
Mary looked over at Amias’ body and the various friends, family, and neighbors around him. She hoped the spices and perfumes drenched into the body and cloth would help stave off any chance of decay. “He loved serving others,” Mary responded. Mary took a deep breath in hopes of pushing away an intense moment of wailing building up in her body. She knew it would be okay to cry, and she did plenty of that the night before while preparing the body. Multiple tears flowed as she greeted the early guests who came to her home, which was normal. However, she didn’t feel like dropping moisture and started to develop a tension headache. Tamir nodded to someone standing behind Mary, which caused her to look around. The mayor of Rakkath, the son of Laorahsim, whose family had roots in the tribe of Naphtali since their people received the land, was standing there stroking his beard.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Rel said. Mary found hearing the mayor’s voice confusing. He was an average-sized man whose voice pitch was higher for his size. She remembered his father having an unusual voice, which meant it was a part of their family.
“Thank you, Rel,” Mary said. Usually, she would say sir or give a formal greeting, but Rel was only a year older than herself. Plus, the political leader didn’t like formalities regarding those he knew. He wanted to show himself as a person to whom everyone would feel comfortable going for help.
“Amias was a great man,” Rel said. “He did a lot for Rakkath and counseled me on how to be a better leader.” Mary nodded. There were a plethora of condolences talking to Mary about the greatness of Amias or how he would be missed. Virtually everyone spoke in general about him being a great man. Most never went specific.
“He loved God and His people,” Mary said. Rel nodded and was going to say another word until Upaz shouldered his way between the two people.
“Upaz,” Mary said. “I believe our mayor was…”
“It’s okay, Mary. We can talk later,” Rel interjected. He gave Upaz a side eye and began talking to other people in Mary’s home.
Mary thought of Upaz as a rotund and tall man who displayed his riches with the jewels that plastered his hands and littered his clothes. In the past few weeks, Upaz had been particularly fond of sapphires, but she remembered when he had decorated himself with amethysts, emeralds, and, once, a large ruby. His primary protector was Hamran, who was always close by, and another person she didn’t remember seeing before.
“Although we might not have seen eye to eye on every matter,” Upaz started. His voice was booming, authoritative, and echoed in the house. He spoke louder than necessary so everyone would know he was talking to Amias’ widow. “Amias was still a great man for Rakkath.”
“Thank you,” Mary hesitated. She wasn’t sure if there was more to Upaz’s greeting but could not argue with his assessment of their differences. Amias was a firm believer in Yahweh, the God of the Israelites. Her husband believed their drought was due to disobeying the one true God. It didn’t explain why other countries were also having dry periods, but Mary never brought up that counterpoint if Amias was on a streak of complaining about Israel's problems. Upaz did not share that same belief.
“If only more would turn to Apis he is more than able to help us from any situation,” Upaz said while rubbing his hands.
“Not now, Upaz,” Mary said. “You know where Amias and I stood on religion.”
Upaz grinned, but the smile did not reach the gleam in his eyes. He looked at a thick gold ring with a large blue stone in the middle. “There are benefits to whom you worship.”
“I agree,” Mary said and smiled. Her joy reached her eyes as she stared at the large man.
Upaz snorted, turned to the person she was unfamiliar with, and said, “Feyel, make sure to taste the food before I eat.”
The young man nodded his head and went towards the food. While grabbing a bowl, Yardena grabbed Feyel by the arm and looked at Upaz. “That is unnecessary, Uncle,” Yardena whispered. She waved at the large group of people and said, “After all, this room has already tested everything you see before you.”
Upaz smiled at his niece, nodded, and motioned for Feyel to get behind him. “The stew is particularly good,” Mary suggested. “Made personally from Netta, she has a way with stews.”
“Indeed, she does,” Yardena said, turning from the group. She bumped into Tamir, who was talking with a group of merchants. She apologized with the softest of gestures, stroking his cloak with her left hand before approaching a few of the merchants’ wives. Upaz tried the stew and gave a nod of approval before going to the group of merchants.
“Did Upaz try to convince you to convert to Apis?” Rashida whispered. Mary jumped a little because she didn’t see her friend come to the side of her. She remembered Rashida and Phashar being in her home, but with the number of people in the room, she got lost on where everyone was.
Mary smiled and nodded. “In a way. He insinuated that Amias would have been better off believing in Apis than our God.” Rashida nodded and smiled. “Is he going around talking about his bull god?” Mary asked.
“In a way. He’s mostly business, always trying to make extra money. But I do hear Apis this and Apis that.” Mary chuckled at Rashida mocking Upaz. “I know you’ve heard this before, probably many times. But how are you doing?” Rashida asked.
Mary looked over at her husband’s body. There were a few standing by his corpse, muttering words of condolences. She looked back at Rashida and smiled. “It’s tough.”
“It’s been a while, but I think I could have embalmed him if you wanted,” Rashida offered. While living in Egypt, Rashida learned medicine and healing. Mary didn’t know many female physicians in Israel, but there were quite a few in Egypt. Rashida wasn’t the only woman in Thebes who knew the medical arts when she visited.
“No,” Mary responded. “That’s not our way.”
“I know,” Rashida said. “No harm in offering.”
“Thank you,” Mary said. “You did an amazing job with the body.”
Rashida nodded and would’ve responded but stopped and looked at the door. Mary followed her gaze to see a prophet enter the room. He was jovial but didn’t know anyone in the house. He appeared to be the same age as Amias, bringing back the memory of what Amias had said the evening before. Mary excused herself from Rashida and hurried over to the stranger.
“Hello,” Mary introduced, “I’m Mary, Amias’ wife and daughter of…”
“Greetings, Mary,” the prophet said. “I’m Afra, Amias' long-time friend from Jericho.”
Hearing those words flooded Mary’s mind with Amias' stories about his friend’s adventures. Of course, his main story was about them searching for Elijah, but they did go to other cities, spreading the word of God while reminding people of their duty to worship Yahweh. The memory of hearing the stories in her head but realizing she’d never hear Amias’ voice caused her to gasp a little to hold in the possible crying fit that would come.
“It’s okay,” Afra whispered. He reached out to hold her hand and smiled. “That’s love you’re feeling.”
Mary nodded, smiled, and said, “Yeah, it is.” She wiped her eyes, took a deep breath, and said, “Amias said you’ll be here.” She looked over at the body as Afra released his grip on her hands. Mary turned her attention back to Afra and said, “I only wish he could have hung on…”
“It’s fine,” Afra said, raising his hand. “A fierce storm prevented me from getting here sooner.”
“We didn’t have rain for weeks, and on that night,” Mary started but couldn’t finish. She still didn’t want to think about her husband in the past tense.
“I’ll be in the old prophet’s home for a while,” Afra said. In Rakkath, Rel kept a home near the city for visiting prophets and priests. Some cities had their people stay in the homes of the wealthy or those who wanted God's blessing. Due to the various degrees of people worshipping other gods, Rel couldn’t rely on strangers and set up a place for Yahweh’s believers. “Help where I can. I know that God will send another to this region.”
“You’re not staying,” Mary asked.
Afra shook his head. “My wife,” Afra answered.
He chuckled at the statement. “I dare not be too long from her presence. Even now, there’s a pull to go back home.” Mary nodded and smiled. She loved hearing of people who genuinely loved each other. It reminded her of what she had with Amias, and a healthy spring of tears started to fall from her eyes. She sighed and nodded as if trying to control the burgeoning grip of sadness creeping into her heart.
“Whatever you can give for counseling and help will be greatly appreciated,” Mary said. She looked to the side of Afra and noticed Netta returning after removing her mother from the proceedings. A young teenager briefly said some words to Netta, visibly upsetting her friend. The young person worked at the Inn, but Mary wasn’t sure of their name. Netta made eye contact with Mary and proceeded to walk outside.
“If you can excuse me,” Mary said. Afra nodded and began to walk towards the food.
There was news Netta had received, and Mary had to know what caused the immediate panic. She wasn’t far from her front door, but each step towards the outside meant passing another person offering her condolences or how Amias would be greatly missed. Mary spent brief moments thanking or acknowledging each person before almost leaving when a strong tug on her arm stopped her movements. She looked around to peer into Yardena's large, youthful eyes. The young lady smiled and sipped on the tea that was being served. Yardena wore her customarily blue outfits, but this one was much darker than usual. One of Yardena’s guards was nearby but didn’t interfere with their conversation.
“Before you handle whatever unfortunate news Netta has received,” Yardena started, sipped her tea, and continued. “I want to offer my deepest regrets and sadness to the passing of Amias.”
“Thank you,” Mary said. She was about to continue, but Yardena gently touched her arm to stop her.
“Although my uncle and Amias never agreed on certain subjects, he was always kind and amenable to all who lived in Rakkath.”
“You’re not a believer in Apis?”
Yardena sipped more of the tea and gestured for the front door. “Meshek, I’ll be right outside. You don’t have to follow,” Yardena called to her guard.
“Acunah is already out there, so it’s okay,” Meshek responded.
Yardena laughed and shook her head. Mary followed Yardena’s walk outside towards Netta, who was crying by a tree. “Apis is my uncle’s thing. I’m more neutral into whom I believe,” Yardena said as they left the home. “Besides, I’ll wait to see who my future husband worships. That makes for a more agreeable household.”
“Yes, it does,” Mary responded. Yardena smiled and drank a little more tea. They headed in Netta’s direction, and Mary could see Acunah talking with one of the maidens to the side of the house. He never expected Yardena to leave without Meshek, and the surprise in his face when he saw her snapped him to attention. He immediately looked at the front door, then Yardena, and began to walk in their direction.
“You’re fine,” Yardena said. “We’re not going far. Continue making libidinous remarks to the young lady over there.”
Mary chuckled at Yardena’s comments as they got closer to Netta. The Phoenician woman could see her with Yardena and wiped the tears from her face. “Before we get close to Netta, who desperately needs attention at your gathering,” Yardena started, “I wanted to say if you need anything that’s within my grasp, don’t hesitate to reach out.”
Mary stopped and looked down at the woman. She knew Yardena but never considered her a close friend. She couldn’t think of anyone Yardena was particularly close to, outside of those employed by Upaz or her family.
“That’s generous,” Mary said.
Yardena put one of her hand’s up as the other still clutched the tea. “I can’t promise you everything, but…” Yardena looked back at Mary’s home, grinned, and then returned her gaze. “I’m sure eventually we can work out something that will benefit both of us.”
“Sure,” Mary hesitantly responded. She wasn’t sure what that meant but nodded in agreement. Yardena did the same and walked back to Mary’s home. Netta approached from the side and stood in the periphery of Mary’s vision.
“Something about her,” Netta said. Mary looked up at Netta and, at that moment, realized the height difference between talking with the two women. One was tall enough, forcing Mary to look up, while the other was shorter, causing her to look down. Still, in her mind, if one was timid or afraid of the other, it was Netta compared to Upaz’s niece. Mary could always sense something was amiss between the two but never asked. Due to Upaz’s wealth and control in the city, multiple people were leery of him, Yardena, Hamran, and others from that home.
“You look worried,” Mary said.
Netta took a deep breath and looked over at Mary. “He’s coming.”
Mary hated the anonymous word choice when speaking of someone. She and Amias believed in being upfront with whom you’re talking about instead of confusing. However, in this instance, Mary knew who Netta was referring to.
“Kalil,” Mary said.
“We know, but there’s time to gather funds and…”
“No,” Netta interrupted. “He’ll be here tomorrow. A boy told me that Kalil was spotted only a day’s journey from here with his group of mercenaries.”
“Amias made it sound like there was some time before the bill was due,” Mary said.
“Tal took more than most and was on a different repayment plan. We’ve already been warned to have the money.”
“You have what you have,” Mary said.
“Like you said earlier, he’ll be reasonable. He’s just coming a little sooner.”
“With Kalil, reasonable might not be an option.”
