Was Akyas her ally? Or merely her cleverest enemy? There was something in the solution she had offered that seemed like a poisoned sweet. She would be free to worship God as she chose, and would never be called upon to take part in the worship of Ba’al—what more could she ask than that? And yet she knew there was something wrong with this. Akyas was about to triumph over her, and she did not know how.

“You are so gracious, lady,” said Rebekah to Akyas. “Yet you speak of unhappy marriage. Surely you could not have been unsuccessful in marriage, having such grace as yours?”

“You see this girl?” said Akyas, as if proud of her. “Now she examines us!”

“Tries our patience, you mean,” muttered the grandmother.

“At our ages,” said Akyas, “we should have stored up quite a lot of that.” She rose to her feet, and the other women followed her lead. Again a sign that she, the youngest of the three, was really the leader of this group. Why?

Rebekah rose. “I fear my poor food has displeased you. You’ve hardly eaten.”

“On the contrary, your meat and drink are delicious,” said “Mother.” “Whoever taught you to cook did well indeed.”

“I could have wished the sauce to be a bit less spicy,” said the grandmother, making it clear by her tone that she was not speaking of the sauce at all.

“It was the sauce I liked best,” said Akyas. “I wish I could have had it every day.” Then, suddenly in a hurry, she turned her face away and seemed almost to flee the tent, she moved so quickly. The others followed.

As soon as they were gone and Deborah had secured the tent flap behind them, Rebekah sank to the rugs, trembling. “Oh, it was awful, awful.”

“I don’t understand,” said Deborah. “Did they like the food or not?” She knelt beside Rebekah and put her arms around her. “I thought it was so delicious.”

Rebekah buried her face in her nurse’s shoulder. “Oh, Deborah, it wasn’t the meal, it was me. I failed completely.”

“Failed? Oh, you mean . . . Ezbaal won’t marry you?”

“The opposite! I thought I was winning by making the grandmother hate me. How was I to know it was the sister who was the leader? And she liked me. I can’t think why, I was as horrible as I could possibly be without actually spitting on anybody.”

“Spitting! Better not, I taught you not to spit when you were little.”

“Then I’m glad I didn’t forget your lesson,” said Rebekah. In truth, though, she wanted very much to spit on something. The marriage plan would go forward, and even though it seemed Ezbaal was giving in on everything she cared about, she knew the marriage would be wrong, that she had overlooked something important.