“We’re going to die! We’re going to die!” Crispan screamed this over and over until Nociar finally slapped him hard in the face. He was indignant, but at least he stopped screaming. I was never really frightened; the Lord had been so faithful in keeping us safe, I knew he was able to deliver us this time as well.

Bantal took charge of the situation at once, his voice as calm as Crispan’s had been frightened. “Most of the snow would have gone over the bank, since there is only a narrow ledge in front of the cave. We don’t how much is above us; that’s the main problem. I need a volunteer to dig out to see how bad it is from the outside. It will be dangerous, because the snow could fall back down from overhead. We can’t do that until daylight, though; we should be able to see some light filtering through the snow

“For right now, we all need to get some more sleep. We can do nothing more tonight.”

Just the idea that someone was in charge and had a plan made us all feel better. We went back to our blankets, except for Bantal and one of the men. I recognized Narga, who was talking earnestly to the older man, who looked first startled, then incredulous. Deciding the reasons could wait until morning, I slipped back into Marcus’s arms, and went back to sleep.

Narga was already seated by Bantal at the fire when I arose the next morning – at least I assumed it was morning, though it was still dark inside the cave. We were all curious as to what was going on, but we had to wait, as usual, until we shared our morning prayers and the meal. Bantal spoke first.

“Our young friend here told me a remarkable story last night, which changes all of our plans. I’ll let him share his story with you.”

Looking flustered and embarrassed, Narga started his story. “I have always told my friends I was born in another village in Berith, and no one had a reason not to believe me. They are my people now, and I have no regrets, but I was not born a Berith’oi.”

I saw my father tense, but his face relaxed almost at once. Whatever battle he was fighting had already been won.

“I was born in the Parnath, among the Parnath’oi. My father was – is – a war leader among our people. We thought it our right and duty to raid among the Berith’oi, to gain slaves for ourselves or to sell to Tirzah. About five years ago, a man traveling through the Parnath saved me from a brown bear, making me his life-slave. I went with him, but begged him never to tell anyone of how I came to be with him. As we traveled through Berith, I learned to talk like the people there, and to behave like them. At first, I pretended to accept Jesus to please my master, but later I genuinely accepted him as my Lord and Savior.

“I know what some of you, of my Brother Lithnor’s family, have suffered at the hands of my people, and it gives me great sorrow. This may be the beginning of repaying the debt we owe. I am still of the Parnath’oi, and they cannot refuse a life boon from me. The debt I incurred to my master, Rhema, is their debt as well. I have the right to choose repayment on his behalf to those who are his bond-mates, and you are certainly that under our laws.

“I will be the one who digs out of this cave, and I will be the one who brings help. It will take me three days to walk to where a lookout will see me, and it may be another three days before I can make it back here. You have plenty of food and fuel, and you can melt snow for water. Only pray for me, and wish me Godspeed, and I will be on my way.”

Crispan had a question, in his usual whining way. “If he can dig himself out, why can’t we all go? Why do we have to wait, just so we can be slaughtered by barbarians?”

Bantal was patient, but his voice had an edge to it. “We have tons of snow above us, at the cave entrance and on up the mountain. It is at least thirty feet to the far side of the ledge, then there’s a sheer drop of two hundred feet. Once Narga reaches the outside, it’s several hundred yards back to the trail, which may also be buried in snow. Even if he manages to pack the snow enough to keep the snow from falling on him as he tunnels out, there’s no guarantee it won’t cave in on him, or on one or more of us. No, we’re better off waiting right here. If he says his people will help us, I trust him.”

Narga gathered together a pack of food, which he tied to his back, then set out at once to dig his tunnel. At first, the snow kept cascading down in front of him as he tried to get it packed, but eventually he was able to get a stable roof over his head. Progress forward was slow, especially once he drew near the precipice, but he, and all of us who watched anxiously from inside, saw a patch of sunlight ahead. It was a tricky matter at that point to maneuver around in such a way as not to fall over the cliff, but he finally wriggled out of sight. We heard his shout of success an eternity later – and his tunnel immediately collapsed.

I was concerned we might run out of air with the only entrance buried by so much snow, but air seemed to come in from somewhere at the back of the cave. As long as the next week was, with no place to go and nothing to do but talk and move about the cave, I found it very pleasant. Not only did I discover more about my father and mother, but I gained a new understanding of my husband’s life as well. He told me more of his memories of his father, and his mother, who had effectively raised him to adulthood after his father died. I also heard the story of his lifelong friend, Brutellas.

“Brutellas lived across the street from us. His mother and mine were best friends as well, and we spent many hours together when we were children as our mothers visited back and forth. When we were both nine, I pulled Brutellas, big as he was, out of the path of a runaway horse, and he never forgot that. He’s saved my life a dozen times since then, but it never seems to be enough to make us even in his eyes. It’s not that we’re really keeping score, but no matter how often I tell him he owes me nothing, he insists it will never be nothing to him. I miss him, but I’m glad that he has at last found someone else to rescue from danger.”

The one thing I could never understand about my husband, and the one thing he refused to discuss, was his obsession with gaining a treasure. I suspected it had something to do with feelings toward his father, but he would only talk about Marcellus in very general terms. There was a door in that part of his life marked “Private,” and even I was not invited to enter it.

Crispan was especially irritated during our enforced vacation. When he wasn’t pacing endlessly up and down in the cave, he was berating Nociar or Alexi, not for any particular reason, but because he could. He still avoided Marcus, who returned the favor. I was always watching my husband out of the corner of my eye when he wasn’t with me, to make sure that neither he nor Crispan broke the uneasy peace.

One person who surprised me during those days of waiting was Maritsa. She made a point of seeking me out; I hadn’t realized what a sweet spirit she had. One day, she said something that took me totally by surprise.

“Lysia,” she said in a low voice, “I need to tell you something – and ask for your forgiveness.”

“Why, Maritsa, whatever for? You’ve never done anything to harm me, and you’ve never been anything but loving and sweet.”

She sighed, and patted my arm. “I wish that were true, child. Do you remember the day, that awful day, when we called you in, when Bantal called you in, and said we were going to sell you in the slave market?”

“Of course, my sister, but that was not your doing. I was getting what I richly deserved, after the things I did.”

“You don’t understand,” she continued, reaching up to brush a tear away. “I hated you – I really did. I resented the affection Bantal showed you, and you were a constant reminder of Lydia. I knew you were her favorite. When the – incident – came, I saw it as the perfect opportunity to get rid of you. It was I who insisted Bantal get rid of you; he argued against it for hours the night before, but I finally used a woman’s most potent weapon – I began weeping, and said this proved he didn’t love me the way he loved Lydia. He caved in then.

“Oh, Lysia, can you ever forgive me?”

I threw both arms around her, and hugged her as tightly as I could. “Oh, Maritsa, my precious sister, there is nothing to forgive! I forgave you and Bantal long ago; anyway, you were not in the wrong, I was. A spoiled, nasty brat – that’s what I was. After what Christ has forgiven me, how could I not forgive you?”

It was as if a load was lifted from her. From that day on, she went about with a look of joy and serenity on her face, rather than the sadness that seemed to be so much a part of her before. It was incredible to me that one small incident, from so long ago, had been responsible for stealing so much of her happiness. Bantal noticed the difference, but never asked the reason. He was just glad to have his bride back, in the bloom of first love.

The day came when we heard the sound of digging. We had hoped there would be a thaw, but we were in the middle of winter, and even the heat from the cave seemed to have little effect on the mass of snow outside. Only when we finally got out did we realize how horrendous our situation was, and how blessed we were still to be alive.

I never thought of the Parnath’oi as a race of builders, but my opinion changed on that day. When a tired but happy Narga broke into the cave once more, he said, “It will take a little to finish the tunnel, but it won’t be long now.”

After him came workers with boards and timbers, and shovels. As we watched in wonder, the rough-looking, bearded men built a wooden tunnel right up to the mouth of the cave.

When they were finished, Narga said, “We can all leave now. You can lead the horses, after you load the packs. I’ll see you out on the trail.”

With that, he turned and followed the retreating warriors back out into the tunnel. It was an incredible piece of work when I saw it, completed in very short order. Outside the cave, it turned at right angles, back toward the trail. It was just wide and high enough to accommodate us and our horses. Out on the trail, which was bathed in bright sunshine that did nothing to warm the frigid air, we found a party of at least fifty men, with horses and carts. The carts still held unused lumber, and the discarded shovels and tools that been used in our rescue. I looked back toward the cave, and gasped. A literal mountain of snow had fallen on top of the trail in front of it; the ledge itself had disappeared.

The Parnath’oi were a surly looking lot, all bearded and clad in brightly colored furs. They were obviously not happy at being required to rescue so many potential victims. Some of them sized up me and the other women, and licked their lips in – hopefully – futile anticipation.

Their language was more guttural than that of Berith, but I could still understand. One of the men, obviously a chieftain, growled, “We have fulfilled the blood debt. If you ever enter our territory again, or if we see you in Berith, your lives are forfeit. We go.”

With that, the entire party headed back down the mountain. The horses pulling the carts were unharnessed, the carts were manhandled about, and the horses were hitched once more to their loads. Within minutes, they were moving at a good clip back the way they had come, and we were soon alone.

As we mounted up, Narga said, “We have safe passage through their territory. We can be out of the worst of the pass by the end of the day. There’s a place below where we can spend the night. It’s not a cave, but it’s a sheltered place, and we should be able to stay warm.”

The place he mentioned was short of the tree line, but there was an overhang with its opening away from the wind. It wasn’t as comfortable as the cave we had just left, but no one was complaining.

Around the campfire that evening, Narga told us the story behind our rescue. “I ran into some rough weather going down the mountain, but the Lord was with me. When I reached my people, they were not happy to see me, because they knew what it must mean. It took some arguing to convince them that you qualified as bond-brothers of Rhema, who saved me, but they finally had to concede that you fell within the meaning of their law, at least those from Berith. Next we had to decide how we might get you out of the cave, once I described the situation to them. My people are skilled in dealing with wood, and they decided that a tunnel would be the only way to get you out with your horses. I pointed out that without the horses you would die in the snow, which would violate the law.

“Once it was decided what we should do, it was simply a matter of collecting what we needed. We ran into some snow on the way, of course, as we expected to in winter, but not bad enough to delay us. We arrived here, and the men brought the wood and shovels, and began working. The ground under the snow was not frozen solid, so were able to drive in side posts without too much trouble. After that, we would attach crossbeams and boards to the top and sides, pushing back the snow, then shovel out the snow underneath. We did this all the way to the cave; the men worked in shifts, as hard as they could go, so it was all finished very quickly. It made me proud of my people again; this, at least, they did well.”

The next day, we entered the country of the brown bear. It was a day we would not forget.

Chapter 30

JESUS IS the Bridge Ministries