Over the course of the next few weeks, Zipporah and Mara worked diligently on the right leg. Every morning while they ground grain, Zipporah would concentrate on commanding her toes to move. Gradually, she managed to move all of her toes and then her foot. Each afternoon, Mara would massage the leg, and then bend it over and over to try and get the muscles accustomed to moving again. In the evening when chores were done, Mara convinced the male slaves to take turns holding Zipporah upright, one on each side supporting her with shoulders under her arm pits. They would walk her slowly around the courtyard while she tried to get her right leg to move as though walking.

At first the other slaves had been reluctant to help in any way. Zipporah had made more enemies than friends in the household. However, when the story of Zipporah's encounter with Yahweh was recounted, the men agreed to help – out of fear. They assumed that anyone important enough to attract the personal notice of a god was someone they wouldn't want to anger. As the days progressed and Zipporah's vitriolic tongue did not resurface, the slaves gradually began to lose their fear of her. She was questioned over and over about her near-death experience. Much speculation circulated about the meaning of what happened to her. Some interpreted the incidents as dreams or the hallucinations of a drugged mind, but others were not so sure. All agreed that whatever the correct interpretation, Zipporah was a changed woman.

By the time Naaman returned home almost three weeks after the incident, Zipporah could stand on her own. Crude crutches had been carved from tree branches. With the crutches, Zipporah could stand upright. She had begun to regain strength and motion in her right leg. She hoped to learn to walk on her own with the crutches for support, dragging her still useless left leg.

Naaman arrived home just after midday. He was tired and, to Maacah, seemed preoccupied. She would've postponed telling him of the near-tragic incidents, but knew gossip waited for no one. She would rather he hear the story from her than someone else. So, once he had rested and eaten, Maacah recounted for him the story of Zipporah's treachery. She presented him with the evidence that she had kept for his return. She told him of the girl's attempted suicide, of her dream and her partial recovery. She also recounted the visit of the healer and his suggestion along with those of Tirzah, Arisai and Shepho. She ended with her assignment of Mara as Zipporah's keeper and an update on the progress the two had made during the interim.

"I'm sorry, husband," Maacah ended, "for presenting you with this problem immediately on your return home, but I dared not delay. You know how tongues wag."

With a weary sigh, Naaman replied, "You were right to bring the matter to my attention. I regret that you had to deal with it on your own, but it sounds like you acted wisely in my absence. Before I decide what to do, I want to speak personally with those involved. But, I'm fatigued from a difficult raid, too many hours in the saddle, and too little sleep. Spread the word that I'm apprised of the situation and will act tomorrow. Now that I have eaten, I fear I can't keep my weary eyes open."

Maacah immediately left to do Naaman's bidding. When she returned, she found him sleeping on the couch still fully clothed. He had not removed his mantle or turban. He was still wearing the footwear soldiers reserved for battle. Rather than traditional sandals, the complete foot was covered, except for the toes.

Since it was the heat of the day, Maacah went to her slumbering husband and began to carefully remove his shoes, just as she would have done for a sleeping child. His exhaustion was so complete, he did not stir as she dislodged the shoes. She then took a damp cloth and wiped the dust from his sweaty feet. As she did, she was surprised to discover a white patch of skin on his left foot that encompassed most of his second toe. The white skin went between the toe and partway down the top of his foot. It also covered about half of his next toe. The edges of the patch of skin were rough to the touch and slightly raised. The rest of his foot appeared normal. On his right foot, she found a similar patch, but this time the discoloration encompassed his littlest toe and its neighbor. This time, the white skin covered a larger area atop his foot, extending over halfway across the foot. Puzzled, Maacah examined Naaman's legs but saw no further discoloration.

Next, she took off his turban and smoothed his tangled locks away from his sweating brow. As she did, her fingers encountered a rough, raised spot just inside his hairline. Carefully parting his hair, she frowned as she examined a white patch of skin on his scalp. The place was irregular in shape, a little wider than a finger and approximately two inches in length. When Naaman stirred is his sleep, Maacah started guiltily and withdrew her hand. Although she wished to explore his scalp further, she refrained for fear she would awaken him.

Now she thought she understood why he had remained fully clothed. His battle shoes hid the spots on his feet, and his turban covered his scalp. She couldn't help but wonder if his long-sleeved mantle hid more white splotches, since wearing a mantle indoors at midday during the hot season was uncomfortable. She tried to convince herself that Naaman had just been so exhausted that sleep had overcome him before he had a chance to remove his mantle, turban and shoes, but deep down, she feared this was not the case.

Maacah kept an eye on her sleeping husband for the next few hours. When he did not stir by time for the evening meal, she closed the door to their room and went to eat as usual. She assumed Naaman would sleep through the night. He was evidently very exhausted from the raids he had led.

Naaman did sleep all night. He didn't even stir when Maacah eventually entered the room and retired for the night. He slept soundly until the cock began to crow the next morning. Sitting up, Naaman began tying his sandals onto his bare feet. While he was thus engrossed, Maacah roused and said, "Why don't I have water brought so you can clean yourself?"

Looking at her lying on her sleeping couch, eyes blurred with sleep but tender with love, Naaman said quietly, "Did you remove my shoes and wash my feet or did you have a servant do it?"

"I did," she replied.

"And what did you observe?" he asked, as he searched her face for clues as to her reaction.

"I found two patches of discolored skin," she admitted, "one on each foot."

"And what did you make of the places?" he questioned.

"I don't know what to think," she replied frankly. "The edges were a little rough and slightly raised, but my touch didn't seem to cause you any pain. The skin is not broken, and there is no oozing sore. It simply looked like those places had lost all color and turned white."

"You're right," he said. "The places are not sensitive to the touch, nor do they itch or cause me any discomfort."

"How long have they been there?" Maacah inquired.

"The one on my right foot has been there for several months now," he admitted. "The one on my left foot appeared only about a month ago."

"Are you aware that you have a similar place on your scalp?" Maacah asked.

"Yes," he said. "I also have one on my knee," he admitted, pulling up his tunic to show Maacah the white patch of skin that encompassed most of the back of his right knee joint. "This one was the first to appear. I've had it for almost a year. Now, I'm developing them on my arms. A patch recently appeared on my left elbow and one is on the inside of my wrist," he stated, turning his arm over so Maacah could see the discolored skin just below the edge of his palm. "I fear I won't be able to hide the evidence of the skin disease much longer. Up until now, I've been able to hide the patches with clothing. This one on my wrist is particularly difficult to camouflage. While on the raid, I smeared mud on my wrist, hoping no one would notice, but if it spreads, that ploy will no longer be possible. Besides, dirt on the battlefield is expected, but soiled wrists in town might be cause for comment," he concluded.

"Have you consulted a healer?" Maacah asked.

"No," Naaman admitted. "I know how Jobab loves to gossip. I plan to request an audience with the King and see if he will get his personal physician to look at me. Perhaps he will be more discrete."

"Why haven't you shared this with me before?" Maacah inquired.

"I didn't want to worry you needlessly," Naaman replied. "The patches didn't turn into sores or appear contagious. I thought it was best to hide them and hope they would disappear in the same way they came. I've been careful to keep myself covered when in the sun. I was afraid the white patches might be sensitive to exposure to the elements."

"I suppose you're right. I would have worried," Maacah said. "Even now, the patches worry me a little. I'm not afraid that I will contract the discolored places from you. I just worry that you'll become an outcast if your skin becomes noticeably discolored. You're such an asset to the King; I hope this problem with your skin doesn't cause him to dismiss you. Would your men fear contagion even if a healer pronounced you fit for battle?"

"I don't know," Naaman admitted, "but there is no need for you to worry. I plan to talk to the King soon. I'm sure everything will turn out all right. You're to go about your duties as normal. When I find something out, I'll share it with you."

Although Naaman's attitude was upbeat, Maacah couldn't help but worry. She knew that skin diseases were feared by many. Even if the King's physician declared Naaman fit to lead in battle, it didn't mean his men would be free from fear. Fear caused people to do things they wouldn't otherwise contemplate. She hoped Naaman's place of leadership wouldn't be threatened because of the irrational fear of his troops. If he were to be dismissed from the King's service, she didn't know how her family would survive. She knew her sons would be willing to support them, but she also knew Naaman would be humiliated to have his children providing for him before he reached old age.

Naaman didn't give her much time to brood, however. Shortly after she had dressed and eaten, he came to the room and told her he planned to deal immediately with the problem of Zipporah's treachery.

"I'll set up court under the olive tree," he told Maacah. "I'll require your presence, since you have already interrogated all involved. They won't dare try to alter their stories with you present. I'll begin with Baara. Please call her," he instructed.

When Baara arrived, Naaman apologized for the embarrassment of requiring her to repeat what had happened to her, but he felt he needed to talk to everyone involved in order to be fair and impartial. He questioned her at length, beginning with her mistreatment by the slaves that caused her to begin drawing water during the midday repast. While Maacah had respected Baara's desire for mercy and had not required her to implicate those who were ringleaders, Naaman had no such compunctions. He indicated he wanted a full picture of what had led to the disastrous day when Zipporah had tried to blackmail Baara into helping her obtain the post of nanny.

When Naaman asked Baara to name those who had been ringleaders in the early torment, she demurred, saying "Master, I requested Mistress Maacah grant mercy, and she agreed. Why must I now implicate those who have changed and no longer wish to do me harm?"

"I'm afraid my wife has been too indulgent," Naaman replied. "If she had confronted Zipporah and Mara initially, perhaps they wouldn't have tried their blackmail scheme. I understand from Maacah that you believe your god would have you act in mercy and offer forgiveness. The likes of Zipporah see such tactics as weakness and attempt to exploit it. I must take a strong stand so that other slaves will not get the wrong idea. While slaves are human beings and must be treated as such, they are still slaves and need a strong master who brooks no rebellion. I have been far too lenient in simply answering your query. You're not to question my judgment again, but are to answer my questions completely. Is that understood?"

"Yes, master," Baara replied, bowing her head in submission.

After questioning Baara, Naaman proceeded to question others. He spoke to his own family as well as the slaves, leaving Zipporah for last. When she was finally summoned, Hegai carried Zipporah into the front courtyard, but set her down some distance from Naaman. Handing her the crutches, he watched carefully as she slowly and painfully forced herself to walk the last few feet to Naaman's improvised courtroom. With determination etched on her face and sweat pouring from her brow, Zipporah managed to drag her useless leg while forcing her recovering right leg to bear most of her weight as she took the few steps necessary.

When she finally stood before Naaman, he said, "I hope that display wasn't meant to incite pity. All it did was prove to me that you are still filled with arrogance. Your determination to appear before me under your own power doesn't impress me as a rehabilitated nature. To the contrary, it speaks of an undamaged pride."

Sinking onto the bench beneath the tree and propping her crutches against the tree, Zipporah bowed her head in submission and requested permission to speak. When permission was granted, she said, "I'm sorry that you misinterpreted my entrance, master. I desired to walk into your presence for two reasons. First, I wanted you to see for yourself that I'm no threat to anyone. If I were carried in, you could have suspected that I hid strength I didn't want known. However, I couldn't fake the effort it took for me to walk the few steps I took. I knew you would see the sweat and the exertion necessary for me to propel myself a few feet."

"You are correct on that account," Naaman admitted. "It was obvious that you were taxing your resources simply to take a few steps. What is the other reason?"

"I was hoping you would see humility, rather than pride," she answered.

"How so?" Naaman questioned.

"In my former pride, I took a poison potion rather than face the possibility of prison. The proud girl that I was then would have attempted some other such stunt rather than show her weakness by hobbling into your presence. She would have dressed herself, painted her face, and demanded a slave carry her to you. She would have sat and looked you defiantly in the eye. She might even have concealed a weapon and attempted to kill both her judge and herself rather than submit to an inquiry," she concluded. "For me to drag myself into your presence was an admission of weakness, not an attempt to flaunt my arrogance."

"Given your recent treacherous activities, do you blame me for suspecting subterfuge?" Naaman asked.

"No, master, I don't blame you. But if you will listen to my journey perhaps you will no longer suspect I have ulterior motives," she replied.

"Tell me what you will," Naaman said. "You know that I've already interviewed everyone else in the household. I will reserve any questions for when you finish your account."

"Thank you, master," Zipporah said. "For you to understand, I must start in my formative years."

She then began to tell her story, starting with her childhood. She told of living in a household of several wives. Her father, Zebah, had married her mother, Persis, for the prestige accorded the family of a healer. However, secretly he loved another whom he took as a second wife while Zipporah's mother was with child. Persis had a difficult pregnancy and had to remain abed while Susanna, the second wife, had Zebah to herself. Susanna became pregnant and had a baby girl, Zibiah, when Zipporah was less than a year old.

While Persis was too sick to prevent the pregnancy from occurring and feared exposure if she tried to get Susanna to abort, she determined that if the child were a boy, she would destroy it. Since it was a female she let it live. However, she used her knowledge of the dark side of medicine to ensure that Susanna would not have another child. In this she was successful. Finally, Zebah took additional wives so that he could obtain an heir. Persis used her knowledge to make certain all of the later wives were barren.

She also determined that her daughter would not suffer a fate similar to her own. She began to teach Zipporah the arts of a healer as soon as she could begin to discern the differences between plants. She filled her daughter's mind with hatred and bitterness. She told Zipporah that she was as good as any man and could have whatever she wanted in life if she mastered the dark side of medicine. She taught Zipporah how to mix poisons, how to perform abortions, and how to make someone ill without actually killing them. She also taught her to mix love potions that were designed to make a man lust after a woman. Most of these things, she allowed Zipporah to practice on the unsuspecting. The art of making one ill, she instructed Zipporah to practice on her half-sister Zibiah. She allowed her to assist in abortions she performed for women who found themselves with child and came for help. She had Zipporah mix the love potions and practice using them on male slaves whose advances Zipporah would then spurn. When she tired of the game, she would report the lustful slaves to her father who would punish them by having them turned into eunuchs.

"When my father's lands were raided, and I was taken into slavery, the adverse circumstances did not make me bitter," Zipporah said. "I was already bitter. During the enforced march back to Damascus, my mother told me that I was to use what I had been taught to my advantage once I was in captivity. She told me that because she was old and her beauty had faded, she feared she would not fare well as a slave. She took one of her potions and died en route. I was brought here and waited my opportunity. I believed what my mother had told me. My hatred sustained me, and my arrogance led me to think I could manipulate everyone by using intimidation, fear and evil potions. I might have succeeded had you not brought Baara here."

Zipporah smiled wryly.

"I was enraged when the little spit of a girl was chosen to be Maacah's personal maid. I determined then to destroy her and take her place. I didn't think I would need to use potions on her. I tried to use them sparingly. I had little opportunity to add to my stash, so I chose to discredit and intimidate her. When she told stories of a loving god with a forgiving, merciful nature, I was filled with contempt. Who would want to worship such a wimp? I knew such a god wouldn't come to her rescue. So I discounted the one thing that could prove disastrous to my plans, and I planned carefully."

"I got the other young slave women to believe Baara had tempted you, master, with her body. I aborted a child for another slave and kept the fetus in a jar both to blackmail the slave, and later to discredit Baara. I lured Baara into the slave quarters and used my abortion tool to deflower her. I then told her how she was going to help me. I saw the fear in her eyes. I was so certain the intimidation had worked that I didn't even suspect anything the next day when Maacah asked me to watch the children. I only had my potion in my girdle because that is where I kept it at all times. My mother had taught me never to be without it. It was my insurance, my ultimate protection. . ."

Zipporah's words trailed into silence as she stared into space as though beholding an apparition. Sadness came over her features as she said quietly, "Alas, my mother's advice misled me, but I didn't know that then. At that point I hadn't encountered this god, Yahweh, that Baara talked about. I didn't realize that you could talk to a god, and he would listen and answer. I thought Baara's religion was a crutch for the weak. I didn't understand that her god could overcome the fear I had instilled. So I walked into a trap set by Maacah. When I was exposed, I chose to take a potion rather than face imprisonment. I thought I would triumph in death. But then as I lay on the couch awaiting death, Baara's god gave me a glimpse of what was in store for me. I was taken to a place of pure evil where fires burned endlessly, and the inhabitants were tormented by thirst. The being who was in charge there was a foul person, filled with the same kind of bitterness and hatred that I was," Zipporah said with a shudder. "This place was so horrible, I can't even explain it adequately."

"But, I didn't stay there. I was suddenly transported to another place, a place dominated by a bright light, a place filled with peace and love. As I entered this place, I was forced to view all the misdeeds of my short life. I was filled with revulsion. I knew the bitterness that filled me had caused me to do evil. But still, I tried to make excuses for myself. When I did the love and peace surrounding me began to dissipate. I called out in despair to Yahweh, admitting responsibility for my transgressions. Once again He enveloped me in His love. His mercy surrounded me, and I awoke with a powerful thirst. After Mara and Baara provided water to slake my thirst, I slept, hoping to find the place of light again. But I couldn't. Still, the peace and love have not left me. Now I know what I did was wrong. I will accept whatever punishment you mete out. I know I deserve death. My life is in your hands," Zipporah concluded.

When Zipporah finished, Naaman said, "What do you believe will happen to you if I order your death? Will you return to the place of light?"

"I believe so," Zipporah said. "Baara said some of her religious leaders believe there is life after death, while others do not. Some believe in a place of punishment for the evil of the world and a place of reward for the good. Even though I have been evil most of my life, I believe I'll go to the place reserved for those who are good. I'll go there not because I'm good, but because Yahweh has extended mercy to me, and I have faith in Him."

"So for you, death would be a reward?" Naaman queried.

"I suppose," Zipporah answered. "But so would life. If I live, I can tell others about the place of light and about Yahweh. Perhaps I can convince some destined for the place of evil to change their ways. Just as Baara's God has helped her to live through adversity, He will help me to accept whatever justice you impose. Perhaps this sounds like arrogance to you, and it would be if I were depending on myself. But the courage I have that allows me to face either life or death doesn't come from personal strength; it comes from Yahweh."

At this, Naaman merely shook his head. He called Hegai to return Zipporah to the slave quarters. Turning to Maacah, he said, "This is certainly not what I expected when I decided to hear testimony and render judgment. It's almost time for the evening meal. I'm going to eat and rest. I will make a decision on the morrow."