(AN: Here's a familiar story...told with a bit of a twist. Hope you enjoy it.)

(Warning, there is language)

Back in Action

Salmon pushed his way through the tent-doors to the command tent. It was Joshua's own tent, with those things that Moses had used and passed on to him. Standing at his right was Caleb and his left was Eleazar. Gathered before his table were the other elders of Israel and princes of the tribes.

"Friends," Joshua said. "It is time. This night, the days of mourning for Moses are over. Gather the people together and collect all your belongings: in three days time, we enter the Promised Land and take it for our possession!" No cheers at this.

"Be strong, and of good courage!" he continued. "The LORD is surely with us. He has brought us up to this moment, and now He holds the door open, waiting for us to take the land of Canaan by force, with Him at our backs! Who's with me?"

Unanimous cries of 'yea!' came from those gathered. Now, it seemed, that they were more receptive towards the commands of the LORD.

"We're ready now," one said.

"We've come too far to turn back!"

"Death to all who disobeys your will!"

"The LORD was with Moses, as long as He's with you, we are yours to command!"

The old general nodded in recognition of their loyalty.

"Now," he pointed to the map at his table. "We are here, in the plains of Moab. The nearest occupied city is this one..." He pointed to a large fortress on the west-bank of the Jordan River.

"Jericho."

"But that's a Canaanite fortress!" one of them exclaimed.

"And we're safely on the east bank!" he said. "Is it wise to begin our attack there? And it will take months before we can cross the river!"

"We're attacking there," Joshua said. "But..." He held up his hand to silence any dissent. "We won't be going in blind." He rose up to those before him. "I need two volunteers to spy out the city, look for strengths, weaknesses, garrisons, how many they have, and if they know of our presence."

Salmon suddenly stood up.

"I volunteer." he said.

"No, my lord!" Caleb stated. "You're too important to Judah to be lost, if you should be killed in this mission. And you have no heir!" He turned to Joshua. "Let me go in his stead!"

"I need you here, Caleb," Joshua said, placing his hand firmly on Caleb's shoulder. "Old friend. Getting the people ready in three days will be a hard task." He turned to two of the princes. "After all, some of us have pastures to build."

"But we're definitely going to war!" the prince of Reuben added.

Joshua paused, then turned to Salmon.

"You know the risks of this mission?" he asked. "If you are captured, your life will be forfeit. With no heir...not even a wife, the tribe of Judah may fall into anarchy, looking for an heir."

"No," Salmon shook his head. "This is where I need to be, I know this for certain." He turned aside, then halted. "Mered Ben-Ezra will act as regent in my stead, and, should I fail to return..."

"The LORD be with you, my prince!" Caleb exclaimed.

"And with us all." he added.

Salmon left the tents of Judah, after giving a sorrowful farewell to Mered and Bithiah. Without a wife or family of his own, after his father and mother had died in the desert, they were like a second family to him: one that he could respect and love merely for themselves, and not what they could do for him.

Just then, his accomplice ran out from the camp and joined him.

"Prince Salmon!" the young lad exclaimed. "Mattijah, of the house of Benjamin!" Salmon thought this young lad seemed too optimistic, too unaware of the dangers that they were about to face. "I hope you can keep up with me. I'll have Jericho fully covered by next morning."

"Ah, to be young again!" Salmon sighed. "I remember when I was your age. We respected our elders! In the name of God, what will we do with this generation!"

Mattijah laughed. "Getting too fast for you, old man?"

"The strength of youth," the prince of Judah said. "Must be tempered with the wisdom of age. If not, you'd run right into the same mistakes we old ones made and know how to face!"

They both laughed, then turned their sights towards the north, towards their goal.

Mid-afternoon. The two now stood at the edge of the River Jordan. By now, it was quite flooded from its source in the Kinzarit Lake to the north and was swelling up over its edges.

"Well, young boy," Salmon said. "Let's see if your youth and strength can vault this little wash!"

"Afraid to get wet, old man?" Mattijah jokingly returned.

With laughs on their lips, the two waded out into the water. Salmon, who had as a lad lived in Egypt, learned to swim on the Great River Nile. Though he had had no practice in almost forty years, he was keeping his head above water.

Mattijah, on the other hand, had known only the desert.

A sudden cry of alarm caught Salmon's attention, and he saw young Mattijah being swept down-stream. Pushing himself off the muddy floor of the river, he pushed his way through the rushing river and grasped the soaked, woolen cloak. Another hand went up and he found the young lad's arm. He gripped hard and began wading through the water until only dirt, sand and stone were beneath his feet.

The lad was coughing up water as he recovered from his almost fatal crossing.

"So much for the strength of youth!" Salmon laughed.

It was starting to get late as the two crossed the plain of Jordan, heading toward the dark-walled citadel that stood in the bottom of a valley. They felt quite uncomfortable in their damp clothing: the dry wind did nothing to either calm or warm them, and the sun was already going down. They would surely catch a chill if they remained out during the night.

They turned toward the city, threw their hoods down over their heads, and passed through the huge gates into the city of Jericho.

"It's getting late," Mattijah shuddered. "Sh-Shouldn't we find a place to sleep?"

"Getting tired already?" Salmon returned, laughing. He then composed himself and suddenly got serious. "Still, it is getting late. Follow."

They turned left and went down a broad street of the city. So far most of the buildings were homes, or small businesses which were currently engaged in last-minute commerce for the evening. As they were going, they heard the sound of people whispering as they walked through the streets.

"Do you know what they're saying?" Mattijah asked.

"A little," Salmon said. "I've picked up on some of the Canaanite dialects from Caleb." But he did not say what they were speaking of in hushed tones. It was anything but flattering.

"Here we are!" he stated, pointing to a tall stone structure with a stable to the side. With Mattijah following on behind, they passed through the door and found themselves in a spacious han, as such inns were called in this region.

"We can spend the night here." he stated.

Just then, his mouth fell open and, though his eyes remained fixated directly before him, the eyes of his companion were also fixed on the new-comer. A woman, in her early-to-mid forties, walked up to the entrance of the han, presumably to greet them.

"Welcome to my han," she said. "Please, don't just stand here in the door-way. Come inside."

Salmon shook his head, then nodded. Mattijah cast his eyes this way and that, before following swiftly behind him.

"Peace be upon this house." Salmon said as he passed through the door of the han.

"Thank you, my lord." she returned. "You two look rather exhausted. I will fix you a room and see if there's something you can have for supper."

"My thanks, milady!" Mattijah said, bowing before her and smiling as widely as possible.

She returned with a small, slightly-strained smile, then turned and walked back into the inn. Mattijah suddenly found himself favoring his shoulder.

"She's way out of your league." Salmon said.

"Well, she's too young for you, old man!" he whispered.

"And too old for you, boy!"

"Still," Mattijah continued. "Whether old or not, she's aged gracefully...like Sarah come back to the living."

Hours later, and the two strangers sat at the bar in the parlor of the han, waited upon by the proprietress. Currently, she was chewing out some Hittite who was speaking rather harsh things at her, by the sound of their tones. After she had said something in a language they could not discern, she approached the two Hebrews.

"Sorry you had to hear that," she said to Salmon. She shook her head, sighing. "It's the same thing over and over."

"What is?" Salmon asked.

"Nothing, sir." she said.

"Oh, please." he smiled. "Call me Salmon."

"Nice to meet you," she returned.

"And what's your name?"

"That's not important," she retorted. "What is important is that, despite what that Hittite-dog was ranting about, I am not a harlot." She looked down at the bar, as if embarrassed. "It's stupid, really. I'm an inn-keeper, I have men in and out of this house on a daily basis. I mean, if I were a man, they would know me for what I am, and not slander my name behind my back."

"I didn't think you were a har..."

She placed her hand over his mouth and took him aside.

"Not so loud!" she hissed. "It's bad enough that people say that without cause! I don't need strangers repeating false-hoods in my enemies' ears."

"My apologies," he said, prying her hand off his mouth. "I meant nothing by it."

She sighed, then walked off toward a set of stairs that led to the upper stories. Salmon walked after her. She went all the way to the top of her inn, on the roof that was just five cubits shy of the top level of the city wall. He followed after her, stopping just a few feet away from a few stalks of flax which were left on the roof to dry.

"Why are you following me?"

"No reason," he returned. "I just thought that you were upset and needed comf..."

She shook her head. "You're nice, for an old man."

He felt hurt by this comment. He wasn't that old, not even sixty.

"I guess I have nowhere to speak either," she said. "I'm not as young as I used to be. Who would want an old maid as their wife?" Salmon could sense the bitterness in her voice. "I..." she sniffed. "I am still after the manner of women, as if my own body is taunting me..." She shook her head.

"I'm sorry, Salmon. Here I am, acting like a little child. Hardly what you'd expect from someone of my reputation."

"I don't know your reputation," he said. "All I know is what I see."

Out of curiosity, she turned to him. "And what do you see?"

"I see a beautiful woman," he said. "Whom God has blessed and given her great prosperity with this inn."

She tried not to smile like a little girl, but couldn't help it.

"Which god, Salmon?"

He came to a halt. What to say? He had made a compliment about her in the heat of the moment, but now it seemed that he had stuck his neck out too far. If he spoke the name of JEHOVAH, his cover would be blown. But before he could make a response, the woman placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed him down to the ground.

"Stay out of sight!" she whispered.

"In the name of..."

"Shh!" she hissed. "I think someone's looking for you! Stay here!" She quickly got back to her feet and ran back down the stairs. Moments later, she returned, leading Mattijah behind her.

"Over there," she said, pointing to sheaves of greenish-brown crop. "Hide behind those stalks. I'll get rid of the guests."

"But..."

She was gone before they could make any protest or objections. Moments later, the sound of the door opening beneath them was heard.

"Yes?" she asked. "Come to stay at the han?"

"Hold your tongue, harlot! We have it on good authority that two men came to your door."

"Many men come to my inn, captain."

"Strange men," he continued. "They are spies, sent out to sound out the land."

"Oh, those men!" she said. Salmon could feel his heart stop in his chest, even though it continued pounding like a drum.

"You've seen them? Tell me where they are!"

"They just left!" she suddenly said. "Right before the gates were closed for the night."

"Which way did they go?"

"I don't know," she said. "They didn't leave a message." A moment of silence. "What are you doing here? If you hurry, you might catch them!"

Silence once more.

"If I find out that you've anything to do with these spies, it will be the end of you, b*tch!"

The sound of armor clanking against armor was heard. Salmon strained his ears as the clank of iron slowly died down, and breathed a silent prayer of thanks to JEHOVAH for this timely rescue and the choice of this woman. While he was thus speaking silently to the God of Abraham, he was suddenly aware of Mattijah breathing very loudly next to him.

"Too much for you, young man?"

"I'm ready to fall asleep!" he sighed.

Just then, steps were heard near at hand. Salmon looked, for fear that the soldiers had not fully left the han. Within a few moments, the woman appeared again, pushing the stalks of dried flax out of their way.

"You put yourself in great danger, helping us." Salmon said.

"No more than we are already." she said.

"What do you mean?" Mattijah asked.

"I may be a woman, but I'm not stupid!" she returned. "I've heard the rumors about your people, the ones who came up from Egypt when I was a little girl. And recently, the destruction of the Amorites, Sihon and Og." She chuckled uneasily. "It's got all of Canaan afraid of sudden attack...afraid of destruction."

She nodded.

"I know your God - the One they call JEHOVAH - is with you," she said. "And that He has given you this land. I only ask one thing: since I have kept you from the soldiers, please!" She practically threw herself at their feet. "Spare me and my family!"

Salmon brought her up to her feet.

"Our lives for your lives," he said. "As the LORD lives, we shall not harm your family."

"But, hurry!" She led them down the steps into her own chambers. In it there was a window that looked out at the land beyond them. "If they come back and find you're still here..."

"She's right!" Mattijah said. "We must escape!"

She walked over to her bed-side and brought out a long rope made of strands dyed red. This she tied to the bed and threw the rest out the window.

"Living on the edge of the city wall does have its advantages," she smiled. "Now, quickly! Into the mountains! Stay there for three days, that should help them loose your trail."

"Let's go!" Mattijah said, already clambering out the window.

"But how will we know you won't tell the soldiers where we are once we've gone?" Salmon said, turning to her.

She paused, trying to think of something.

"This!" Salmon said, taking hold of the scarlet rope. "Hang this in your window. When we return to take this land, whoever is inside this house shall live, as long as you do not tell them where we went."

She nodded. "So it shall be."

"Thank you once again, my lady," Salmon returned, nodding in reply. "Rest assured, if your family stays in your house, all shall be well."

She smiled, then Salmon addressed himself to climbing down the side of the wall, the red rope in his hand. Just then, her head appeared out of the window.

"My name is Rahab."

(AN: You like?)

('Mattijah' is a variant of the Hebrew name Matityahu, which is the original form of the name Matthew. [I pulled an 'Elijah' on that name. As, in Hebrew, his name is Eliyahu, but it is Anglicized as Elijah, I Anglicized Matityahu as Mattijah, since Matthew, or Matthias, sounds too Greek]. Also, Kinzarit is a mash-up of Kinneret and Gennesaret, both of which are names for the same region we all know in the Greek as...Galilee.)

(Also, I'm having that Rahab is not a harlot in my tale. I know that is subject to debate, but the points one rabbi pointed out [that she was still in contact with her family, lived in her own house rather than at the Temple - as the prostitutes of these fertility-gods and goddesses would be housed - and that she had flax on her roof may have indicated a secondary income - something a prostitute probably wouldn't need] made sense in my mind that she was probably an inn-keeper.)

(And yes, they did do risque things in those temples back then. I heard once that there were even homosexual orgies in some of the temples in Egypt [they gotta love those big, tall obelisks]. No offense meant, but the obelisk really is a phallic symbol [and this is from someone who isn't that big of a fan of Freud. Honestly, that was my only tiff with Joseph Campbell's The Hero with a Thousand Faces: he religiously relied upon Jung and Freud, placing the legends of all the world's cultures - including this one - under the phallic-shaped lenses of Herr Doctor Freud].)