Page 6 of Unveiled Tamar’s Story (Mysteries & Wonders of the Bible #1)

Levi cast another glance over his shoulder and then hurried her through a doorway and into the gathering dusk outside.

“Hide. Just for a few days. Do not return home to the family. That will be the first place he looks. Rent a room somewhere.” He pulled something from around his neck and pressed it into her hands.

His money purse. She felt the jangle of coins inside it as she slipped it obediently over her head and let it settle under her tunic.

Levi scanned the crowds around them. “Meet me at Iocav’s stall on the first day of the week, at noon. I will let you know then where we stand.”

She nodded and then reached out to clutch his arm when he went to move away. “Levi, will you be in trouble too? For vouching for me?”

Her cousin’s lips twitched into a sad smile. “He would not dare. If he tries to blame me, every Pharisee in Jerusalem will be ready to go to war with his sect.”

That eased one concern, anyway. She let her fingers fall away and squared her shoulders, knowing she had to give her cousin a brave face, assurance that she wouldn’t squander this gift of freedom he was risking too much to provide her.

She nodded and took a step backward. “Noon on the first day. Go with God, Levi—and assure everyone that I am well.”

They would worry when she didn’t show up for the Pesach celebration, when she didn’t come home for the night, even.

Her brothers and their wives, sisters of her heart, their mother with her age-dimmed eyes, the other cousins who would join them for much of the weeklong celebration.

Her nieces and nephews would pout when she wasn’t there to play the games she had promised them.

Would Levi tell them the truth, or would it be safer for them all to simply think she’d accepted an invitation from one of the other weavers?

The others! She spun, darting through the crowds toward the weaving room. What if Caiaphas turned on them when he realized she’d slipped through his fingers? She had to warn them all, and quickly.

Rather than retracing the direct path the high priest had pulled her along a few short minutes ago—the light in the sky assured her she hadn’t been gone long at all—she hurried along the back way and ducked into the door that opened into the storeroom.

When she burst into the cavernous weaving room, she found the women still there, huddled in groups, fingers still and fear on their faces.

“Tamar!” Illana spotted her first and surged away from the group of women who always sat nearest her, her hands outstretched. “What happened?”

Tamar let the younger woman grip her fingers and gave them a squeeze in return. “The veil ripped in two during the earthquake.”

She intended to go on, but the instant reaction of shock was too great.

Gasps and disbelief and confusion sounded through the room.

Tamar had to reclaim her fingers so she could lift a hand to silence them.

“We are being blamed, and the high priest is enraged. My cousin advises us to return quickly to our homes and stay out of sight. If guards come, do not lie, but try to avoid them if you can.”

As she spoke, she strode to the shelf where their records were kept and snatched up the scroll that contained the list of her workers and their families and where in the city they lived.

There was no way Caiaphas would know who all seventy-two of these women were, nor where to find them.

So long as they weren’t here , they ought to be safe enough, if she could keep this list out of his hands.

Spinning back around, she saw that the women still stood in their knots, eyes large in fear.

Tamar tried to summon a reassuring smile, but when that failed, she settled for the calm authority she always utilized here.

It settled over her like a comfortable shawl, even now, when all else shook and quaked.

“Go! Enjoy your Pesach, and I will see you when the festival concludes.”

The command broke through the shell of stillness and sent them into action. Once moving, they made quick work of gathering their things and rushing out into the street.

All but Illana’s group, who moved toward her instead. Hinda stepped forward this time. “What about you, Tamar? They will not take the time to question each of us, I daresay, but you …”

Tamar held herself tall and still, silently thanking the Lord that the tremors that had seized her in the temple had gone, leaving her with at least an imitation of her usual composure. “On my cousin’s advice, I will stay out of sight during the Sabbath and let the high priest calm down.”

“But where will you go?” Davorah asked, concern etching new lines into her face.

They’d been serving here together for seventeen years.

Davorah was a few years her elder but had come to the room two years after Tamar, after her husband died.

The woman had always been too quiet for Tamar to feel as though she knew her well, but many years of shared space had nevertheless formed a bond.

She was the second-most senior weaver here, dependable and steady.

Davorah had been here so long that she could well be the next one questioned. Tamar squeezed the woman’s shoulder and summoned a small smile. “Do not worry for me. I will be fine. Go, enjoy the celebration with your family.”

“But—”

“Guards are coming!” Hinda had moved to the door but now darted into the room, panic on her face.

“Go!” Davorah pushed Tamar toward Illana and then turned to intercept Hinda. “We will keep them occupied in the front. You two go out the back.”

Before Tamar could make any objections, Illana had pulled her forcibly into the storeroom and, from there, out into the alleyway again. There were no guards here, at least. With daylight fading, they couldn’t pursue her for long. The Sabbath would forbid it.

Of course, that meant she didn’t have long to find a hiding place either.

Illana slipped her vibrant blue-and-yellow head covering off and pulled Tamar’s pale blue one off too, switching them. Tamar frowned, but Illana smiled. “They have already seen you today. They will be looking for your clothing, the headscarf especially, from behind.”

She was right, of course. But Tamar knew how proud Illana was of the beautiful scarf she’d woven for herself, its bold colors and intricate pattern a testament to her skill at both the dye vat and the loom. “I will return it to you after the festival.”

“I know.” Illana positioned Tamar’s blue cloth over her own dark curls and smiled. “Stay safe, my friend. I will beseech the Lord for His protection for you.”

“Thank you.” At the end of the alley, Tamar nodded to Illana on her way to her family home and then darted across the main thoroughfare toward another alley. She tucked the scroll out of sight in her sash and granted herself one look over her shoulder.

No guards were chasing her down.

But where could she go? Her cousin could instruct her to rent a room all he liked, but that wouldn’t make any available .

It was Pesach! Jerusalem was teeming with pilgrims. Every bed in every inn had been taken at this point, she knew.

She’d heard the disgruntled complaints of the visitors in the markets over the last few days, whole caravans of people who would have to camp outside the city because there was no room left within it.

Her chest went tight. She had family with room enough.

Her immediate family with whom she lived, yes, but even beyond them.

Other cousins, several who had tried to convince her over the years to stay with them, at least for a holiday week.

Part of her yearned to let her feet follow those familiar paths.

To knock on Sarai’s door, or Zipporah’s.

But she couldn’t. Caiaphas would know to look for her at any of her relatives’ houses, and she had no idea what danger she would put them in if she were found beneath their roof.

No. No, her only option was to act like one more pilgrim. She would go outside the city. Find a group of travelers big enough that their size would offer safety and anonymity.

It was the best plan she could devise at the moment.

Perhaps, if she claimed to have been separated from her family and unable to rejoin them—true enough, in its way—someone would even welcome her to their fire and their meal.

She had Levi’s money, so she could offer to pay for whatever she ate.

Most families she knew would refuse such offers in favor of hospitality, but at least she knew she had the coins.

Setting her feet on a street that would lead her to the nearest gate, she kept her pace quick enough to guarantee she’d have time to exit the walls before darkness fell and brought the Sabbath with it.

Not so quick that she’d garner any attention.

Everyone was hustling to get where they needed to go in the remaining minutes of daylight.

Then, finally, she was outside the walls. Jerusalem was at her back, the last golden rays of the sunset rimming the hills before her with gold. She was one of many people hurrying through the gate, even while others hurried to get in.

“Tamar?”

She jumped at the voice, even as she registered its familiar tones. No one out here was supposed to know her. But it was only Bithnia, heading back into the city from wherever she’d run off to.

The crucifixion. Oh, gracious. The crucifixion . Tamar’s gaze flew past the young woman, to the hill of Golgotha. No crosses still stretched into the sky, but the normally empty area was alive with people, many of them coming down the road toward the city.

She should have chosen another gate, any other gate.

Bithnia edged closer, and her red-rimmed, puffy eyes were visible in the fading light. “Were you looking for me? I apologize for leaving my post. I know it is inexcusable, and I understand if you are going to dismiss me. I—”

“You are forgiven.” Perhaps on a normal day, Tamar would not have been so quick to offer a second chance.

But this had proven to be anything but a normal day.

She pulled the girl out of the way of the others hurrying by in both directions.

“In fact, I daresay I will be in no position to chastise you after this.” In as few words as possible, she whispered what had happened to the veil and how Caiaphas was putting the blame squarely at her feet.

Bithnia’s swollen eyes went wide. “You? But you have done nothing wrong!”

It was sweet of the girl to be so firmly on her side, when all Tamar had ever been to her was a stern authority figure.

It brought the tired start of a smile to her lips.

“I appreciate your support. But it will no doubt be in your best interest to keep your distance from me. Go, return to your family. Although…” Now she frowned.

“If they question you…” What to do now? She couldn’t ask Bithnia to lie for her. That would be sinful.

She’d simply have to change her plan so that Bithnia could honestly claim not to know where she was.

The young woman straightened. “No. I will not turn my back on someone in need. I will help you, Tamar.”

Tamar’s brows lifted. She could make her plan work. She didn’t need this girl’s help. Did she?

But if the guards questioned the pilgrims, no one would have any reason to protect her. Perhaps it was foolish to think she could rely on anonymity. Perhaps the Lord had crossed her path with Bithnia’s now for just this reason.

She let out a long breath and met the girl’s gaze again. “What did you have in mind?”

Bithnia offered a wobbly smile. “I know where you can hide.”