The Jewels of Jezebel (The Reluctant Hero Series Book 2) Page 10
The man continued to speak in an almost whispered huskiness. “This collection is not for you. Something far better awaits you.” He continued to speak, but Ben-Tzion lost the gist of what he was saying.
The man spoke in Hebrew, but there were words in a dialect that even Ben-Tzion, a biblical language expert, did not understand. When he pulled his arm loose from the man’s claw-like grasp, he saw red finger marks branded into his flesh. “Who are you?” he asked in English.
No answer came. Just a penetrating stare.
“Who are you?” Ben-Tzion repeated.
“Let me tell you this much,” the stranger said, replying now in English, and wagging his eyebrows up and down. “I know what you want, and I know where to find it.”
“Even though you speak the tongue of our ancestors, I could not understand exactly what you meant by—” Ben-Tzion was interrupted by the sounds of cheers coming from the main tent. He looked toward the gathering crowd and felt utter despair.
The Oxford researcher ran toward him, stopping between him and the hooded man. Excited, he touched Ben-Tzion on the shoulder. “Come now! Yadin has found the thing that will pay for the entire dig, sir! He has found a divided pottery jar containing…” The researcher stopped in mid-sentence when he saw the other man who was present.
Ben-Tzion watched the researcher give a knowing look to the hooded man and then turn his attention back to Ben-Tzion. He sensed that they knew each other and his dismay grew as he realized they had a secret between them. This did not bode well for the dig. No, this did not bode well at all.
He suddenly wanted to get away from both of them. It seemed prudent to do so.
The researcher cleared his throat and said formally, “Come quickly, Dr. Ben-Tzion. Dr. Yadin waits for you to share in the good fortune.”
***
Ben-Tzion wanted to share nothing. He had his own reasons why he wanted to have one dig totally to himself. Just one! Was it too much to ask that he would have an expedition of his own?
However, he had needed the resources that Yadin had supplied for him to get even this far. He hated the fact that Yadin had more accomplishments than he could ever dream of having. He didn’t want to tell anyone how he felt because it would reveal his bitterness and his jealousy. Yadin still held all the glory and now, he had new artifacts to crow over. Again.
The researcher went back into the main tent without him, as he was rooted in indecision. Meanwhile, Ben-Tzion again turned his attention to the mysterious hooded man in the ancient-looking robe.
The man said, “I will wait for you by the Roman attack ramp. If you wish to hear what I have to say…then come. I will wait only fifteen minutes. If you do not come, I will disappear.”
“Why should I come?”
“I know of a treasure that no one has ever thought existed. It makes what Yadin has just found look small in comparison.”
“Why me? Why not approach Yadin? He is far more accomplished than I am,” Ben-Tzion said, allowing a measure of his bitterness spill out to this stranger. “He will be known forever as the man who excavated Masada. If I stay, I will receive some of that glory, but not much.”
“If it is glory you seek, then stay on the path you walk. If you have a more altruistic reason for being here, then you know where I will be. Hurry.” The mysterious hooded man turned away.
Altruistic. That word certainly did not describe him. Feeling defeated, Ben-Tzion slowly walked toward the main tent where Yadin had just finished giving a speech. The priceless tithing pot rested on the floor next to his feet.
Yadin opened a bottle of wine. He said, “It is from the Carmel Winery. Dr. Ben-Tzion, come join the celebration.”
“Thank you,” he managed.
“My friend and partner! You will be very thankful that you have come with me to this dig!” Yadin motioned to a perfect clay jar on the table. “It gets even better than the tithing pot. Just take a look at that.”
Ben-Tzion grimaced in shock when he saw what was inside. The container held two ancient scrolls separated by a partition. “Scrolls? You found scrolls? Have you examined them?”
“We would not be celebrating if I had not! Anything else we find now pales in comparison to these. Some fragments of Deuteronomy and some of Ezekiel are here! Ha-ha! Do you know what this means?”
Ben-Tzion felt sick to his stomach. “Yadin, do you mean to tell me that you found ancient scrolls that are legible?”
Laughing, Yadin said, “In response to the question, the answer is, ‘yes.’ Some of them are in pristine condition for their age. Others, we may have to work a little harder to read them.”
Ben-Tzion was in shock as he dropped to his knees as if he had been kicked in the belly.
Yadin walked up to him and placed one hand on his shoulder. “It is good to humbly offer thanks, but now it is time to rejoice, Ben-Tzion. Your name will be beside mine throughout time! This shared find is more than just recognition! It is our history! Surely, you can be excited for Israel!” He paused, looking at Ben-Tzion in surprise. “What is the matter with you, my friend?”
With tears in his eyes, Ben-Tzion stood. He took in a deep breath and looked Yadin in the eyes. “You have brought honor and priceless pieces from the ancient history of Israel to our restored nation. You are a good man with many accomplishments. Destiny has smiled upon you. You have no desire to take sole credit. You talk about recognition for my benefit, and you know me better than I know myself. Our paths have crossed, but our goals are different. I want to make my own way from now on, and not have my name on any of this!”
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s yours, Yigael. You’ve earned it. I have not.”
Yadin’s mouth dropped open. “Eldad! This is yours, too!”
“No.” While walking away, he turned and said, “Share it with this young researcher.”
“What’s his name?”
“I don’t know.” Ben-Tzion turned to the young man. “What is your name, son?”
“Anak.”
“Anak!” Shocked that his young researcher had a Canaanite name, Yadin dropped the bottle of wine he was holding, which shattered on the rocky surface of the dirt.
“I cannot help the name my parents gave me, Dr. Yadin,” said the large man quietly.
“No, of course not,” Yadin said charitably. He was, after all, a professional.
Wine from the broken bottle ran straight down toward Ben-Tzion, and over his feet. He looked down at it. “This is fitting. That which represents the Messiah’s blood now surrounds me. Take my name off of everything and speak of me to no one…ever. I am cursed. Cursed!”
It was by now very quiet in the tent. Diggers watched as Ben-Tzion gathered his things and shoved them all into his backpack. He packed nothing from the dig…only his private possessions. He paused and looked the researcher in the eyes. He saw evil in them and was not surprised. Silently, Ben-Tzion exited the tent, leaving behind a bewildered Yadin and his researcher whose eyes were knowing and chilling.
Cursed was certainly not a word that anyone dared to speak on a dig. And yet, Ben-Tzion had said it. Quite loud, no less.
Anak? Even the escaped, modern sons of the Canaanites were here, stealing his glory. Was this God’s punishment for his obsession with becoming famous in his field?
Everything was going wrong. He hurried away and didn’t look back. He had one more chance and he wasn’t going to let it pass him by.
Ben-Tzion ran as hard as he could and arrived at the Roman attack ramp just in time. The mysterious man was there, but seemed as if he were just about to leave. “Oh, you came. It is getting late,” he said. “We will leave early in the morning. Be prepared for somewhat of a journey. We shall head to the mountain at dawn. Mt. Nebo is our destination.”
“Wait!” Ben-Tzion was surprised. “Mt. Nebo? That is significant to the biblical history of Moses!”
“Yes. Very much so.” The man looked down the road. “Do you have a vehicle?”
�
��I can get access to one.”
“Good. Get it. And get a good night’s sleep.” The mysterious man smiled for the first time. “If you have faith, you will succeed.” With that, he turned away.
Faith? Ben-Tzion was not sure what the robed man knew about faith. He had not taken him for a religious man.
Suddenly, he remembered the woman he had seen earlier. Who is she? Why did she single me out?
He inquired around the foot of Mt. Masada about her. “Did anyone see a beautiful, slender lady around here? With dark hair?”
“Oh, yes,” said one old digger. “Beautiful dark-haired women are all over this place.”
“I am not joking. I saw a woman here today, and her eyes were the color of a deep amethyst,” said Ben-Tzion. He turned to a man on the other side. “How about you? Did you see her?”
“Yes, I saw such a woman,” said a fellow archaeologist. “I saw her ride the conveyance lift to the top of the mountain.”
Ben-Tzion hurriedly caught the next ski tow going up. The seats going down rattled past him and he saw that the woman was returning to the bottom. As she passed him, with glee she held up a small section of mosaic tile—a repeating sea wave design. He recognized it. She had apparently chipped it off the floor of Herod’s room at the top of Masada.
As an archaeologist, he was appalled at the theft and vandalism. Even so, he was jealous of her chutzpah—thumbing her nose at Herod, two thousand years later. Everyone was apparently getting a piece of Masada, except him.
He would come back to this camp in a couple of days, if only to look for the woman again. And this time, he would find out what she wanted.
Renting a jeep, he slept in the driver’s seat all night near the tents which housed the archaeological dig teams. He would leave at dawn with the man in the hooded robe.
The Staff of Moses
is available at:
Amazon Kindle * Amazon UK * Paperback * Audio
About the Author:
Summer Lee worked as a newspaper reporter before turning her attention to writing books full time. She and her husband live in Southern California. Summer Lee is the pseudonym for author, Verna Hargrove.
Visit her website at www.SummerLeeAuthor.com
Add her on Twitter
Add her on Facebook