Baara's Dreams

Chapter 1

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Terror was etched on her face. Sweat poured from her brow as she ran from the soldier, visions of the bloody massacre of her family giving impetus to her flight. Fire from her burning home eerily illuminated her way through the treacherous darkness. A tree root blending with the shadows trapped her small foot. Stabbing pain coursed through her ankle as it twisted. She rotated her body as she fell and landed with a thump in the dirt. As she stared up into a lecherous grin of pure evil, her hysterical screams rent the night

A soft touch and a cool cloth on her brow pulled Baara from the nightmare.

"Mama," the girl sighed, but when she opened her eyes it was the slight figure of her mistress that bent over her bed and smoothed her tangled hair. Tears ran unheeded down Baara's cheeks. Her large brown eyes fastened fearfully on her mistress's face. Still caught in the throes of the dream, Baara could not control the tremors of her slight frame as she stammered out an apology. "I'm so sorry. I'm trying not to dream. Please don't flog me. Make me sleep alone on the roof until the dreams end so I will not disturb anyone's slumber."

"Salam," Maacah responded, much to Baara's surprise. The greeting, meaning "peace be with you," was spoken to guests entering a home and to friends. To use it in addressing a slave was not anyone's custom, as far as Baara knew, and she certainly had not previously received such a welcome.

"Do not fret child," Maacah continued. "I moved you to this room so you would awaken me and not the servants. The other women in the slave quarters were complaining loudly of their interrupted sleep. Their cruelty was brought to my attention, and I asked Naaman to allow you to be my personal maid. My daughter slept in this room in the family quarters before she married. I have planned for some time to make it into a room for a personal servant but hadn't the heart until now. I know what it is to be alone in a strange land with no one to comfort you. I want to befriend you as no one befriended me when I came to Damascus as a young woman. I imagine you are near the age I was when I was brought here."

Baara searched her mistress'ss face. Her kindness calmed nerves that still jangled from the dream.

"Thank you, mistress. I attained my womanhood only a few moons before I came here. I will try hard to repay your kindness in not beating me or selling me because of my screams in the night. In my dreams, I relive the raid when my parents and brother were killed. I pray to Yahweh to take the dreams away and replace them with pleasant memories. During the day, I can succeed in focusing on good things, but at night...."

"Naaman told me about the raid. We can't erase your suffering, but we won't add to it."

"My suffering could have been worse," Baara said. She struggled to hold back fresh tears, but her wide eyes betrayed her inner turmoil. "It is because of your husband's intervention that I was not violated." She choked out the last word.

As she took a shuddering breath, Maacah interrupted. "There is no need to continue, child."

"But there is," Baara stammered. "I'm indebted to Naaman for saving me from his men. I don't know why he took pity on me. He is different from the others. He protected me as the raiders left my tribal lands and returned to Damascus. He claimed me as a slave, saying you needed a servant. When I saw the women in the slave's quarters, I couldn't understand why he brought me to your home. You have more than enough maidens to do your bidding."

"I think perhaps you reminded Naaman of me when we first met," Maacah replied. "But that explanation can wait for another time. Drink this medicinal drink I mixed for you, child. Perhaps then you can sleep without the disturbance of your nightmare."