Free This Scarlet Cord by Joan Wolf Page A

Ugaru. My daughter is but a simple maid, here to see the sights of Jericho. We are not fit company for the likes of the prince.”
    Farut waved a dismissive hand. “You must let the prince be the judge of that. What is your name and where do you reside?”
    Her father answered the questions. Rahab understood he had no choice, but for some reason she didn’t want these men to know where she lived.
    “Good. Perhaps I will visit you there.” Farut turned to Lord Hasis. “I do not see what your interest is here, my lord.”
    “Perhaps it is the same as yours.”
    The two men stood staring at each other in unnerving silence. Rahab felt her heart begin to pound. She wasn’t sure what was happening, but she knew it concerned her and she was frightened.
    Finally Farut lifted an amused eyebrow, turned, and made his way back through the crowd that had lingered to hear the exchange between the two nobles.
    Lord Hasis’s face was white and tense. He shot one more look at Rahab and then he, too, moved away.
    “I think we should go back to the Lower City, my husband.”
    Kata’s soft voice was a welcome relief after the hostility that had crackled between the two men.
    “I’m hungry,” Shemu said. “Why don’t we go to that wine shop we noticed on our way. The food certainly smelled good as we passed by.”
    “A good idea.” Rahab saw her father glance at her mother for confirmation. Kata nodded.
    Rahab heaved a sigh of relief. She wanted to be gone from this place.

Eight
    T HAT SAME AFTERNOON S ALA AND L ORD N AHSHON PRESENTED themselves at the house of Lord Arazu. They had dressed in fresh linen tunics, with carefully combed hair and perfectly clean sandals. Arazu had been correct when he had said everyone would know where he lived; the first person they asked was able to direct them.
    The noble’s house was one of the largest in a neighborhood of large houses. When the servant escorted Sala and his father inside, Sala saw that it was large enough to accommodate an indoor courtyard. Sala had never seen such a thing before. The courtyard had its own roof, which was supported by four posts at each of its corners. A staircase led from the courtyard up to the second floor of the house, which Sala assumed was the family residence.
    Two men besides Lord Arazu were sitting in the cool of the courtyard, looking comfortable in their cushioned wicker chairs. Arazu stood to welcome the newcomers and then presented Sala and his father to Lord Edri, the king’s treasurer, and Lord Ratu, the high priest. The two Israelites were invited to join them and Sala did so after first giving his father an amazed look. How did they rate this kind of attention from a brief meeting on the street?
    All of the men were served wine by one servant while another servant placed a tray of nuts and fruits on a low table next to them. Once the underlings were out of hearing, Lord Arazu turned to Sala’s father with a smile.
    “You will have guessed from the attendance here, we in Jericho are very much interested in your proposal of shipping our excess produce to other countries. We are fortunate that our farmers are so industrious and we do indeed often have an abundance of grain and olive oil and wine.”
    Lord Nahshon nodded and remained silent.
    Lord Edri, the treasurer, said, “In a city such as this, which is based upon the agricultural bounty of the countryside, we are always looking for opportunities for investment. Jericho is not on any of the main overland trade routes, so our options are limited. However, if you are looking to buy up our produce to sell abroad . . . well, we would be interested.”
    Something about the way the treasurer expressed himself set off an alarm in Sala’s mind. He glanced at his father to see if he was getting the same impression, but Lord Nahshon’s expression was unreadable.
    His father replied to the treasurer, “Our preference is to buy early in the harvest, and we like to have a guarantee of how much