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Elijah's Boy

By R. K. Livingston

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Chapter 1
It was late and the city of Samaria was clothed in darkness except where an occasional torch illuminated a doorway. Nathaniel made his way through the narrow streets keeping to the shadows and avoiding open spaces as much as possible. This was no time to be careless. A boy on the streets at this hour would raise too many questions if he were seen.
Not much farther now. He rested for a moment with his back against the rough stone wall behind him, his thoughts drifting to the conversation he’d overheard near the city gates as dusk was falling. Two shopkeepers were discussing a rich merchant, one Hiel of Bethel, who had arrived just as the gates were closing and had chosen to camp outside the walls.
The merchant would probably be entering the marketplace in the morning, the boy reasoned. He grinned to himself when he considered the prospect of earning a few coins by making himself useful to this Hiel, especially if he was a stranger to the city.
He took the time to peer around the corner before moving on. There would be time enough to think of tomorrow once he reached his goal. Right now he needed his wits about him. He set off once more in the direction of one of the storehouses that lay empty because of the drought. It was a good place to sleep and safer than staying outside all night.
He froze as a door burst open and two men staggered into the street ahead of him. Music and laughter spilled out into the night before the door closed with a dull thud. The two revelers turned and, clutching each other for support, began making their way straight toward him.
"Oh no," Nathaniel groaned. He backed into a darkened archway, his attention on the men in the street. Perhaps they hadn’t seen him.
He was unprepared when out of the darkness behind him a man's burly arm shot out, catching him in an iron grip and clamping a hand over his mouth to keep him from shouting. Instead of struggling, he let his body go limp, becoming a dead weight in his captor's arms. The man grunted in surprise and shifted his grip. When the hand covering his face slipped just enough to free his mouth Nathaniel bit down hard on the soft flesh between thumb and forefinger.
There was a yelp of pain and the boy began to twist and turn, lashing out with both feet. In desperation he flung his head back and felt his skull connect with what had to be the man’s chin. His attacker let out a muffled curse as his victim broke free and dashed headlong into the street.
Much to his dismay, Nathaniel collided with the two men he had been trying to avoid in the first place and all three went down in a clumsy heap. He struggled to free himself from the tangle while they cried out as though they were being murdered. The clamor increased as several men came running to help them. In all the confusion he didn’t see who grabbed him and set him on his feet in the wavering torchlight.
"What was all that shouting for? He's only a boy," one of the rescuers scoffed.
"It's a sad day when two grown men can’t handle a lad his size.” A ripple of laughter stirred the crowd. “It’s a good thing we came or he might have killed you both."
Nathaniel scanned the faces around him. He was convinced that his unseen attacker was long gone. If the man was a thief then the two men in the road had probably been his real target and the boy's unexpected presence had spoiled his plan. He wished he could disappear as well and was just thinking of doing that very thing when he recognized the uniform of one of the soldiers that patrolled the city.
The man was staring right at him and Nathaniel knew that if he ran it would only make matters worse. The soldier already looked suspicious. After all, he was a boy in a place he had no business being at this hour. If it was discovered that he had no home or family he would find himself in a cell by morning. He had to pretend innocence and do his best to bluff his way out of this mess. Could this night get any worse?
He stepped right up to the two men he had knocked down and did his best imitation of a humble bow. "Please forgive me, sirs," he said. "It was an accident and I meant no harm."
"Fool! Idiot!" growled one of the men. "Watch where you're going next time." He turned and pushed his way through the crowd with his companion close behind.
The others began to drift away also and Nathaniel, seeing his chance, made a move to follow.
"Not so fast. Stop where you are, boy," grated a man's voice.
Nathaniel felt a strange tingling at the back of his neck. He turned slowly to face the soldier, making certain his face wore a look of puzzled surprise.
"I want some answers from you," the soldier demanded, "and I want the truth."
Those who had been leaving now turned back, their faces alive with curiosity. Nathaniel looked up at the grim-faced soldier. The man stood as though carved of stone, one hand resting on the hilt of the dagger belted at his waist. His voice cracked like a whip.
"Your name and your business, boy, and be quick."
"I have nothing to hide," he insisted, squaring his shoulders and lifting his chin. His thoughts were racing and his heart pounding but he tried to appear calm. He could almost hear the faint echo of his father’s voice long ago telling him ‘We do whatever we must in order to survive.’ He would have to lie. Well, it wouldn’t be the first time.
"My name is Nathaniel. I had a message to deliver and I am on my way home."
"It's an odd hour to send a child on an errand, I think," said the soldier.
"There was no one else to send," he retorted. "I would have been home long ago only...," he hesitated, pretending embarrassment and looking at the ground to buy time.
"Speak up!" snapped the soldier.
"Yes, well, there’s a tavern not far from the Street of the Potters. I was passing when the door opened and, well, there was a woman dancing." His head snapped up when one of the men holding a torch let out a shout of laughter. "I only meant to watch for a moment," he added, feeling a flush creep up his neck to his cheeks.
The soldier was not satisfied. "How do I know you are not a runaway slave?" he questioned. "Where is this home of yours?"
"It’s the home of Abner in the Street of the Bakers," Nathaniel responded without hesitation. This was getting complicated. Abner's name was the first to come to mind.
"Wait a minute," cried one of the watchers. "I know this baker and you are no son of his. He has only daughters."
A murmur arose and Nathaniel, feeling cornered, spoke up once more. "I never said Abner was my father. He’s my uncle. I am the son of his wife's brother and I was sent to live with him so he could teach me his trade."
There was a pause and Nathaniel hoped his lies were convincing enough. He groaned as the soldier strode forward and caught him by the arm.
"Come then boy. It’s my duty to see that you get safely home to this uncle of yours."
Nathaniel had no choice but to go along, becoming more anxious with every step. He had done errands for Abner in the past to earn a few coins but that was as far as it went. He wondered if Abner’s wife even had a brother. It didn’t matter because Abner believed him to be the son of someone named Seth, a laborer who worked in the royal stables. He’d had to invent that story to get the man to hire him. This was turning into a disaster.
It’s all going to come undone, thought Nathaniel. Once they know I’ve been lying, it won’t take long for the soldier to discover the truth. After all, Abner barely knows me and Seth doesn’t even exist. I’ve got to think of something.
At last they stood at the entrance to Abner's shop. The soldier hammered on the heavy door with the hilt of his long dagger, making a racket that was sure to wake the whole neighborhood. Abner himself came to the door demanding to know what all the fuss was about and the soldier stepped inside dragging Nathaniel with him. The baker looked from one to the other and back again.
"Nathaniel! What...?" he began with a frown.
Nathaniel did the only thing he could do. "Uncle Abner," he cried. "I know I should have been home hours ago but I can explain. I delivered the message as you asked and..."
"This boy is your nephew?" interrupted the soldier with a flick of his hand.
Abner's sharp gaze met the boy’s pleading eyes and Nathaniel held his breath.
"Nathaniel," Abner said with a scowl drawing his brows together, "if you’ve disgraced my house it will go hard with you." He turned to the soldier. "If he has committed no crime, release him. He has more than enough explaining to do."
"He is your nephew then?" the soldier persisted as he released his hold on the boy's arm.
"Indeed," answered the baker with only the slightest hesitation.
The soldier nodded and turned on his heel without another word. Abner closed and bolted the door behind him and Nathaniel let out his breath in an explosive sigh. He wasn’t sure what to think. Why had Abner decided to help him? Whatever the reason, he owed this man a debt of gratitude. Never had he had such a narrow escape.
"Thank you," he said, not quite meeting the baker’s eyes. "You've done me a great service and somehow I'll find a way to repay you." He took a step toward the door but Abner stopped him with an upraised hand.
"There’s no need for you to leave," he said. "I want to talk to you."
"I suppose you want an explanation," said the boy in a low voice.
"Am I right to assume that you’re not the son of Seth as you led me to believe?"
Nathaniel squirmed a little when he met Abner’s gaze. "My father is dead," he admitted.
"If that’s the truth why should you try to hide it? What of your mother?" the baker asked. Nathaniel shook his head and tried to swallow the sudden constriction in his throat. After a moment Abner nodded. "I see," he said. "So you’re alone then. Well, I suppose that explains it. You know the authorities will make a slave of you if you have no one to speak for you."
Nathaniel tensed. What would Abner do now that he knew? He eyed the baker and said nothing, not sure how much to trust him.
Abner stared off into the distance and pursed his lips in thought. When he looked back at Nathaniel he cleared his throat and rubbed at his chin before speaking. "I have no son you know. My daughters have married and Leah and I are alone. I’ve been thinking for some time that I could use an apprentice. You could live right here." He paused and waited for some response.
Nathaniel's breath caught in his throat. What did it mean? Abner had a reputation as a shrewd man. Did he mean to offer him a secure place in exchange for whatever labor he could get from him? Was that so very different from the slavery he feared? He thought back to his previous dealings with Abner. He’d always seemed too kind to treat an apprentice like a slave so perhaps there was nothing to fear.
Then he thought about Leah, the baker’s wife. The few times he’d encountered her in the shop she would rush over like a whirlwind to fuss over him, patting him on the head and pinching his cheeks before he could escape. She wasn’t easy to avoid and on top of that, she never seemed to stop talking. There would be no escape if he actually lived here. No escape at all. He could feel the walls closing in on him and he began to sweat. He shook his head trying to clear it but his thoughts were spinning.
"I can’t do it!" he cried, a note of panic in his voice. He tried to soften his tone. "I mean, I don’t wish to seem ungrateful but I’m not unhappy with my life. I’ve managed to keep my secret for three years now and, thanks to you, I can go on keeping it. Being on my own suits me, and I have everything I need. I’m sure you can find a better apprentice."
Abner sighed. "I could force you to stay but I won’t. I think it foolish of you, but if you wish to continue your dangerous game it’s your choice. I won’t betray you but take care, and remember my offer if you change your mind."
He grasped the lamp from the heavy table and moved to a curtained doorway at the rear of the shop. "I’ll give you a place to sleep for tonight," he said.
Nathaniel suddenly realized how tired he was and turned to follow. The rear door of the shop opened onto an enclosed courtyard. He glanced at a row of four tall, rounded clay ovens that stood along the wall at his left. The faint smell of fresh bread lingered in the air, making his mouth water.
On the right was the house itself. Nathaniel looked up at the darkened windows on the second floor. There were none on the lower level. Abner paused at the foot of a narrow stair that led to the flat roof above.
"My wife is asleep inside," he said softly. "We will not disturb her. It’s a warm night and you can sleep on the roof."
All of the homes in Samaria had these flat roofs though Nathaniel had never been on one. He’d seen how families would gather on the rooftops every evening to relax and enjoy the cooler air. When they reached the top of the stairs he looked around in curiosity. Abner's roof was surrounded on all sides by a low wall. In one corner stood a loom with a small stool set before it. There were woven grass mats underfoot and two or three soft pallets. The baker gestured to the nearest of these before turning back down the stairs, leaving Nathaniel alone at last.
He listened to the retreating footsteps and waited till he heard a door close below. What a night this had been! He hoped he would not come to regret saying no to Abner’s surprising offer.
He removed his sandals and loosened the strip of coarse cloth wound around his waist over his short tunic. Before he set the strip of cloth aside he pulled a leather pouch from its folds and tucked it next to his heart for safekeeping. There wasn’t much in it; a few copper pieces and one of silver, a knife, a piece of flint and a small ivory comb that had been his mother's. He wasn’t about to risk losing it while he slept though he supposed there wasn’t much danger of that in this place.
His gaze drifted to the canopy of stars above him and he sighed in contentment. He was safe for the moment and that was more than he had any right to expect. He pictured the couple asleep in the house below him and shook his head. Abner meant well, he thought. It just wouldn’t work. He wouldn’t be able to breathe living here with the two of them. No, it would be better to go back to his life on the streets. It had its dangers but at least it was familiar and he could do as he pleased. He’d just have to be more careful.
His last thought before sleep took him was of the rich merchant he planned to offer his services to in the morning. He must find some way to meet him.

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