She Dishonors Her House - Part 5

Rising with quaking limbs, she looked up at the position of the sun. Unless she had sat there all day and all night, scarcely a few minutes had passed since the vision began. So it always was. She forced herself to move with slow, steady steps back toward the tent and, once inside, threw herself down upon the bed and called for her maidservant to bring a bowl of water. Allowing herself a few moments of rest before the water arrived, she drew many long, deep breaths and felt clarity returning to her thoughts, but with clarity came certainty.

She washed her face and bade her servant depart to her own dwelling. It was cool inside, and she might have slept, but her mind now held itself alert, lending a restlessness to all her limbs. Despite the heat of the day, she emerged from the tent and seated herself before the entrance, looking down the road as it stretched away to the south and west.

The sun seemed to have grown to fill the entire sky, stifling even her very breath with its heat, but she coaxed her mind to ignore the discomfort and strive for that tranquility so elusive yet transformative during these times of anticipation. Strangely, despite the ominous events of her vision and the unsettling physical effects of having Seen, she felt her mind begin to clear. The sun descended from its zenith, and late afternoon drew near, but to her the passing hours seemed only as minutes, so completely did she empty her mind of all but a single thought.

And as she turned this thought over in her mind one final time, she saw a man stumbling toward her up the road. He had already come quite near before she noticed him, as her attention had been turned inward, and she felt a jolt in her stomach as she saw that he wore ornate, almost ostentatious bronze armor, exactly like the man in her vision. Moreover, she now recognized that armor, for her husband had made it himself, with great care and pains, laboring over two weeks in its forging. He had made it for the commander of the armies of Hazor, who now staggered, covered in blood and weary beyond death, toward her very door.

Without hesitation she rose and called to him. “Turn aside, my lord! Turn aside to me.”

He looked up, astonished, but when he saw her, doubt replaced exhaustion on his face. Peering from one tent to another, as if seeking a different refuge, he at first seemed determined to pass her by, clearly not wishing to dishonor her husband by entering her tent. Throwing off her veil, she let her long hair fall about her face and pulled open the door of the tent. In her silkiest voice, she assured him, “No other host will you find here today, my lord. Come in to me.”