When Sallu's voice stopped, an expectant hush held sway on the roof. The muffled sounds of the city continued beyond our courtyard, a lone bird trilled nearby, and the soft sound of a gentle breeze stirred the plants. Eyes that had been riveted on Sallu slowly turned and focused on me, as I stood one hand over my heart and the other over my mouth. Tears streamed from eyes wide with awe. They tumbled down my cheeks and dripped onto the front of my dress. No sound escaped me as I slowly knelt at the foot of Sallu's pallet. My tears now dripped onto his feet. I took the end of my sash and wiped them clean.

With eyes downcast and head bowed in the pose of submission, I leaned forward and kissed the top of his foot. Then I said in an emotion chocked voice, "Thank you, Sallu. I received the rose. I could not figure out how Samson managed to get a child to deliver it to my door, but I knew it was from him. I understood that he was telling me there was still a chance to repent of my rebellion. I recognized that it symbolized my last chance for redemption. I spurned his message, then. I threw it to the floor and ground it under my heel."

Finally raising my eyes, I searched for Naomi. "A thorn from that rose was the cause of the infection in my leg," I told her. "Yahweh used my angry renunciation of Samson's mercy to bring me to you. His grace is unfathomable. I should have died with my scorned lover in the temple. Instead Your God brought me here. Now I understand that I rejected a love so much greater than the human love I so desperately sought and then chose to betray. Now I comprehend, and so it is time for justice to be administered. I will stand before the city fathers as Delilah. Yahweh must judge my heart. If He chooses to honor the name I have adopted, they will pronounce manslaughter, and I will live on as Salome. If not, I will be stoned as Delilah, knowing the sentence has been handed down by the Master of the Universe."

As I lowered myself to the floor and folded my legs beneath me, everyone began to talk at once.

Clapping his hands together for attention, Alian commanded, "Silence!" Voices stopped mid-sentence and all eyes turned to him. "I do not know why the men of Zorah have delayed this long, but they cannot tarry much longer. I will go to the city gates and request that a tribunal gather before dusk to hear the case of a refugee seeking asylum. Once everyone is gathered, I will tell them whose case it is they have gathered to hear. If Sallu feels able, Korah and I can carry him on a stretcher to the tribunal so he can give testimony on Delilah's behalf."

"But he is weak and still in danger," Myra protested. "Moving him could cause a relapse."

"I will go along as his healer," Naomi stated. "If I think his health is in danger, I will halt the proceedings."

"He has done enough," I protested. "Alian can tell his story."

"It will have greater impact coming from me," Sallu asserted. "I must do this – for Samson, for my sanity, for Yahweh."

And so it was decided. The men of Hebron would decide my fate. I knew they worshipped the same God as Naomi and Alian, but I had experienced the pettiness and prejudice of some, as we established our home for men who were outcasts. Still, I was not afraid. I trusted Yahweh to do what was right. I was ready to accept life or death. 

It had been decided that I needed to be present. The accused was always present to listen to the debate and hear the pronouncement. This allowed the men to judge his demeanor and understand whose future they arbitrated. He, or in this case she, usually was afforded a chance to speak on their own behalf.

Alian and Korah carried the stretcher bearing Sallu's skeletal form, while Naomi walked beside holding his bony hand between her wrinkled palms, allowing her to keep a finger on his pulse. Myra and I trailed behind. To me the solemnity and silence resembled the funeral procession of the shunned, with precious few to mourn the passing.  

The gathered men parted as Alian and Korah carried the stretcher into their midst. Few understood that the man thus carried had already been judged by this tribunal. When Sallu's case had been presented, he was at death's door, and Alian had been allowed to speak without the accused appearing. Most assumed the injured man was the accused. They allowed us to proceed to the city wall. Alian and Korah stopped parallel to the wall, and Myra and I stepped behind them so that the stretcher was positioned between us and the men, with the city wall at our backs. This tactic had been carefully planned. Alian wanted a weak and sick man between me and the crowd when he revealed my identity. He hoped they would be loathe to trample a defenseless man and would be kept from seizing me before he and Sallu had a chance to speak.

The men looked at Myra and I with raised eyebrows and questioning stares. Naomi's presence they understood. They looked on ours with askance. Women were not allowed in the tribunal.

Before anyone could evict us, Alian spoke in a tone that commanded attention, deliberately keeping his voice low enough that the men had to cease their milling and listen carefully to catch his words.

"I know it is unusual for women to be present, but one is here to assist Naomi. The other is the accused."

At this pronouncement, a murmur arose from the crowd and men pressed in closer, those in the back straining to get a better look. As Alian and Korah lowered the stretcher to the ground, Naomi squatted beside him and Myra moved into place behind her, holding a bottle of water and a vial with smelly herbs designed to raise the faint. The buzz of the crowd grew as Alian moved to stand beside me.

Raising his hand for silence, Alian began.

"Many of you know this woman as Salome. I bring her before you today as Delilah, Samson's former lover."

Immediately a roar arose from the crowd. Anger clouded eyes that moments before had held puzzlement. Jaws tightened. Fists clenched. Men stooped to pick up stones as the crowd pressed closer, ringing the stretcher on three sides. An incensed voice called out, "There is no need for testimony, Alian. Step aside. We already know she is guilty."

Before Alian could respond, Naomi stood erect and said in her no-nonsense-iron-clad-I-will-brook-no-interference voice, "Who here is not guilty of some betrayal?" Pointing to a man in the front holding a stone in a clenched fist, she continued, "You, Joseph. Have you always been faithful to your wife? And you, Andrew. Have you never cheated a customer? And what about you, Saul. What sins do you drown in that wineskin every evening? Now drop those stones and hear the testimony before you rush to judgment. Yahweh established these cities of refuge and gave you the sacred duty to determine guilt or innocence when it comes to a death. If you make a decision without hearing what Alian and Sallu have to say, you will answer to Yahweh."

As Naomi spoke, a soft thud, thud, thud was heard as men dropped their stones. When she finished, a contrite voice from the crowd called, "Speak, Alian."

As I stood beside Alian with head bowed in submission, he told the men that although my actions had lead to Samson's capture, he did not believe that I had intended him to die. He reminded them that to find me guilty of murder, I had to have plotted not only Samson's humiliation, but his death. He then introduced Sallu, who struggled to sit up but had to be supported by Naomi. The men leaned forward and strained to catch the words as Sallu's feeble, sickly voice told of Samson's words that offered exoneration and forgiveness for Delilah. Finally, Alian turned to me and asked, "Do you wish to say anything in your defense?"

Raising my head for the first time that evening, I looked at my accusers and said, "I deserve death. I did not know that Samson would die physically. I did know that my betrayal would cause a painful emotional death. I knew because I had been betrayed by my own father. I knew the pain I inflicted and chose that path even though Samson offered me the path of love. I deserve to die for rejecting that love. I do not know why Yahweh, your God of mercy, kept me outside the doomed temple of Dagon. I do know that He brought me here to teach me that He is the One, the Almighty God. Now I know. I accept your judgment as His."

Taking my arm, Alian led me around Sallu's stretcher so that we stood directly in front of the pressing crowd.

"What say you?" he asked. "Guilty or not guilty?"

Saul picked up the stone he had dropped earlier and raised it in the air, "I say guilty," he shouted.

The crowd behind him began to murmur. Joseph, standing next to Saul, said, "Put down the stone, man. She may be guilty of faithlessness, but not murder. I say not guilty."

One by one, the others voiced their votes: "Not guilty, not guilty, not guilty."

Seeing that he stood alone, Saul dropped his stone and said in disgust, "Go home and try to explain this to your wives." Then taking a wineskin from under his tunic he raised it above his head and exclaimed, "A toast. To Delilah, Hebron's most notorious refugee."

Sallu sank back on his stretcher. Myra leaned over and gave him a drink, saying to Naomi, "We must get him home. This has drained all of his strength."

As the men began to turn from us toward the city gate, Alian called out, "From this day forward, Delilah will be known as Salome. Yahweh has accepted her repentance. A new character deserves a new name. Delilah is gone; Salome lives on."

As Alian spoke, the men of Hebron had turned to listen. None answered, though. They simply silently turned back towards Hebron and wordlessly made their way home.

We silently followed the men into the city. All of us were emotionally exhausted. We did not look like victors as we dragged our fatigued bodies into the house. None of us felt like celebrating. Alian and Korah deposited Sallu on the roof. Naomi gave him a sleeping draught and left Myra the night vigil. She suggested that Alian and I both take a sleeping powder with us in case sleep eluded us and told us to go to bed. 

Since it was hot, I took my sleeping mat to the roof. I lay on the mat and looked at the heavens above as stars twinkled brightly. A light breeze wafted the minty scent of hyssop mixed with the sweet smell of lilies across the roof. I heard a faint melody drifting from where Myra nursed Sallu. A soft snore came from Naomi's room.

Smiling, I raised both hands toward Heaven and sang, ""You found me in a desert land and in the wasteland, a howling wilderness; You encircled me. You instructed me. You kept me as the apple of Your eye. As an eagle stirs up its nest, hovers over its young, spreading out its wings, taking them up, carrying them on its wings, so You, Yasha, alone led me."

I sang the song to Yahweh. When I came to the word Lord, I used the name for God that means Savior. Samson had told me once that Yahweh had many names. He was Jehovah Jireh, the provider. He was Jehovah Salome, the peace bringer. He was El Shaddai, God Almighty. He was El Elyon, God in the highest. He was Adonai, Lord. His personal name was Yahweh, but the name Samson identified with most was Yasha, Savior. 

"Is it true?" I asked. "Did you number the stars? Do you know how many hairs are on my head?"

I lay expectantly with hands raised staring in to the Heavens, listening for the whispered love of my Yasha. As waves of liquid love washed over me, seeming to cleanse me to the marrow of my bone, I cried out, "Enough. I can take no more. I will perish." As a peace settled over me, I breathed "Thank you for overcoming my rebellion and offering Your redemption."

Then I slept.

The next morning, Alian told me, "Last night I heard the sweet sound of your voice raised in adoration to Yahweh. I was ashamed. I am the religious leader of this household and yet I did not lead us in a time of praise for Yahweh's goodness."

So he gathered all of us on his roof for a time of praise and thanksgiving to Yahweh. We sang about Yahweh's greatness, his mercy, and his love. Alian quoted words spoken by the great leader Moses. As he led us in a closing prayer, we heard the sound of horses' hooves galloping toward the city.

Soon a pounding was heard on our gate and Talmai's 'Who?' was answered with, "Magog. I have brought the merchant Matthan to speak with Alian."

Myra gasped and said, "Please, Naomi, do not let him force me to leave. Speak to him on my behalf."

"Do not assume the worst, child," Naomi said. "Wait until Alian has spoken with him. Stay back in the shadows and listen."

All of us stayed on the roof, protected from prying eyes by the lattice and plant barrier,   while Alian went down. He met the two men in the outer courtyard. Without polite preliminaries, Magog blurted, "I am sorry, Alian, but thieves have taken Salome and Myra. We searched for two days but found nothing. We fear they have been taken to the slave market. Matthan came to ask for your help in the search."

"Did Myra's maid not give you my message?" Alian questioned. "I came to the camp and brought them by horse to Hebron. I am sorry you have been so worried. Come inside Matthan and see for yourself."

At this, both men's mouths dropped open and they stared mutely at Alian like two simpletons. He watched as emotions flowed across Matthan's face: surprise, relief, joy, but finally anger.

"The maid must have taken the opportunity to escape servitude," he said in a tight, wrathful tone. "Because of her we wasted two days in our quest to find Myra and the one you call Salome."

As he spoke, Magog turned and snatched open the door, calling out, "Come in, Manoah. Your search ends here."

Four men surged through the door. One addressed Magog, "What do you mean my search ends here?"

Alian stepped forward. "He means that Salome is here; your search is over. I am Alian, Salome's friend and protector."

"You know not whom you call friend," Manoah spat out. "Would you offer protection to Delilah, the prostitute betrayer?"

"I would," Alian responded quietly.

"What?" Manoah thundered. "Are you besotted like Samson? What sorcery does this woman practice?"

"None," Alian responded. "Her case has been presented at the city gates. The tribunal ruled that she is not guilty of murder. You cannot touch her. She is in a city of refuge."

"We will see about that!" Manoah barked.

He exited the courtyard, heading for the city gate. His three companions and Magog followed. Matthan took a step towards the door. Then he looked back in uncertainty. Finally he said, "Myra must be my first concern. Bring her to me."

"She is nursing Sallu," Alian said. "Come inside."

"Will she be there?" Matthan asked bitterly.

"I will go in and make certain Salome is not with Myra and Sallu," Alain responded, knowing the 'she' did not refer to Matthan's daughter. 

When Alian entered, I had descended to the courtyard and was sitting beneath a tree. I stood and told him I would retreat graciously to my room. Standing just inside the door, I watched as Alian led a sad father up the stairs to Sallu's place of convalescence. Then I slipped out and hurried to my roof, knowing I would have a better view from there.

Matthan hugged Myra and then stooped to greet Sallu with a kiss on both cheeks, a signal that he still considered him a friend. After a few minutes of polite conversation, Alian and Naomi withdrew. Matthan then told Myra that he wanted to speak to her alone. She demurred, indicating that Sallu, as her betrothed, should be privy to their conversation. I strained to hear more, but their voices had dropped, and I could not.

Matthan stood with stooped shoulders, obviously pained by what he was saying. Myra stood ramrod straight, her fists clenched, her eyes shooting sparks. When Matthan stopped speaking, Myra began to talk, gesturing wildly and then dropping dramatically and clasping Sallu's hand to her bosom. Sallu seemed to struggle as though to pull his hand from Myra's grasp. Then he weakly raised his other hand toward Matthan and said something to him, but his eyes never left Myra's face. Myra dropped Sallu's hand and crossed her arms on her bosom, shaking her head from side to side, while looking from Sallu to Matthan and back to Sallu. Matthan knelt and held an imploring hand to his daughter. When she slapped it away, he jumped to his feet, spat on the roof near her and turned and walked away. Sallu struggled to sit, reaching out his hand and calling out to Matthan. Myra reached out to help him, whispering in his ear. The two sat together frozen in place like statues, staring at Matthan's retreating back. At the top of the stairs, Matthan stopped and dusted off the bottom of his sandals in the classic gesture of contempt and dismissal.

Right after Matthan disappeared through the archway, Manoah burst through, eyes wild, demanding, "I need a word with my nephew, Sallu."
Alian hurried from his room. His attempts to calm the angry man met with naught, so he escorted him up the stairs to where Sallu and Myra still sat. Too infuriated to bother with the niceties of custom, Manoah ignored Myra's presence and bellowed, "How could you defend that whore? They say it was your testimony that led to her acquittal!"

"True," Sallu said clearly, his voice surprisingly strong. "While the rest of you mourned Samson, even while he lived, and cowered ashamed in Zorah, I went to Gaza. I shared his humiliation for an afternoon to tell him that I would personally exact revenge on Delilah. Samson convinced me that Delilah was not guilty of murder. He had forgiven her betrayal and begged me to do the same. The day before he died beneath the rubble of Dagon's temple, he told me Yahweh intended to offer redemption to Delilah. He also told me that he had asked Yahweh for a chance at personal redemption. He said to me, 'I fear my own redemption will end my present life, but it will usher me into the presence of Yasha, my salvation, in a redeemed state. Do not mourn my passing, Sallu; I will be with my God.' I took to heart his words about his mistress. Somehow, though, I rejected his plea for me not to mourn. I see now I was wrong. As of today, I reject my desire to join Samson in death. I will live and dedicate my life to spreading the truth that Samson's death was his way of renouncing his life of rebellion against his God."

"Then you will live without family," Manoah spat out. "Your father refused to join me on the journey to Hebron, even though I told him you were here. He said when you left, he disowned you. I begged him to reconsider, telling him you were young and filled with grief. I was wrong. He was right to disown you. To me, now, you are dead. Your name will not be spoken in our household. We will hold your funeral when I return to Zorah."

With this pronouncement, he turned and stormed out of our home, never once looking back.

Myra sat sobbing by Sallu's side while he attempted to comfort her. He had lived with his choice for a while. Myra was just beginning to understand the isolation from family her choice would bring.