by Brian Godawa
The bodyguard Okrl was the strongest of the three and had a reputation for being vicious and relentless, which would compound his advantage in today’s fight, as well as increase the odds on bets laid down against him.
The other bodyguard Khta was the smallest of them at about nine feet tall and bald. But he was massively built at close to eight hundred pounds of rock-like brawn, and was a mighty grappler and wrestler.
They were all naked except for their loincloths and leather belts.
They spread out in formation at Abi’s lead.
The amphitheater was filled today, standing room only, because of the enormity of the event.
The origin of that enormity entered the pit area and the crowd roared with applause.
It was Ahiman—strutting proudly to his titanic fifteen feet. His footsteps seemed to shake the earth. With his mere loincloth and belt, the full impressiveness of his physique was on display. He was all sinew and muscle. His extra-long neck jutted forward in predatorial position, his long blond hair had been cut off for this fight, leaving him bald. His six-fingered hands spread out as he walked, then curled into a knuckle tight crunch, ready to pulverize his opponents. And he painted his face with war paint—The lightning bolt of Ba’al across his forehead, eyes and mouth. Looking at him, many people thought of the storm god.
Ahiman, the storm demi-god, raised his fists in glory, opened his mouth, and the amphitheater filled with the sound of his roar.
The crowd cheered in response.
But his opponents were ready for him.
They circled. The three had been a team for many years, which would be a disadvantage to Ahiman. They had the ability to move in tandem, like a tag-team of warriors, and they knew each other’s style.
All four of the giants engaged in a ritual display of swaggering their long necks like a cobra preparing to bite—the tradition of the Anakim as they faced duels in the Pit or on the battlefield. It was a way of intimidating their opponents and struck fear into the hearts of their enemies.
Up in the king’s royal box, Ahiman’s brothers, Sheshai and Talmai, and Sheshai’s wife Izabel, watched the combat seated next to the king. Though King Hoham was himself a tall and powerful giant, he still required protection and these two would provide that during the contest, while his bodyguards fought. These brothers had been the most loyal of the Anakim, performing many feats of legendary heroism during the rise of King Hoham.
Had it been any other Anakite who had made such an accusation against his guards and general he would not have believed them.
But these three were different.
Sheshai stroked his beard. He was the brilliant one. The middle brother, and leader of the family because of his intelligence. He whispered commentary on the fight into the king’s ear as they watched.
Talmai, the youngest, was also the most restless. He was a hothead with an explosive temper that had often gotten him into trouble. Sheshai had to bail him out more than a few times through fast-talking or legal maneuvering. Talmai deferred to Sheshai because he owed him his very life over such rescues.
Talmai stood instead of sitting because he was fidgeting and wishing he could be a part of the fight.
Talmai loved killing. He loved the feel of flesh cut with a blade or the sound and impact of bones and skulls crushed beneath mace and hammer. The taste of the blood of his enemies on his lips made him delirious with more rage. He was not a very religious man, but the flesh of the vanquished was the height of religious ecstasy for him. The Anakim were cannibals and became known for their art of hanging victims’ bodies stripped of their flesh impaled on pikes. Ahiman may be a thundering elephantine force of power, but Talmai was a wild rabid lion that could rival his brother when unleashed.
Sheshai kept Talmai on a tight leash.
Izabel watched the fight as a good Anakite female should, quietly, and dressed attractively with long strings of golden necklaces on her long and deliciously slim neck. The female neck was a sexual turn on for Anakim males. And Izabel turned many male necks.
Down in the Pit, Ahiman looked around at his encirclers. His long Anakim neck could stretch around almost to his back.
He knew he would have to take out the strongest one first because this would give him the advantage in both strength and morale. The strongest one was Okrl, who was behind him.
The three of them moved almost as one. They signaled each other according to Abi’s leadership. He had practiced with them as a team in preparation.
And that preparation kicked in as the three of them attacked simultaneously. Fighting one at a time would be to Ahiman’s advantage, but all at once would be to theirs.
As they rushed him, Ahiman spun around to face Okrl, so that when they hit, he would have Okrl in his clutches.
It was a pounding that would have taken the breath out of any normal Anakim.
But Ahiman was not a normal Anakim.
They fell to the ground in a cloud of dust and rolled, fighting for control.
Ahiman had Okrl’s head in his hands. This monstrous adversary may have had a body of muscle and strength that was impenetrable, but the skull that housed his brain was not.
Ahiman squeezed with all his might and crushed Okrl’s skull like an ostrich egg.
It sounded like a crunching splat and echoed through the arena.
When they rolled further, Okrl’s body lay dead in the dirt.
Ahiman pulled away from the two others and faced them again, blood and gore dripping from his hands.
It was shocking how quickly Ahiman dominated. His reputation was well deserved.
But the two others kept maneuvering, waiting for the right moment to strike.
Ahiman’s long arm swung out and clipped Abi’s head, knocking him face first into the dirt. He got up shaking off the dizziness.
And then he ran away.
The crowd yelled with disgust. Cowards would not live in the Anakim community, so it did not make sense what he was doing. And worse yet, this was the general of the king’s army.
It diverted Ahiman’s attention just long enough for Khta to leap.
He hit Ahiman in the mid-section and the two went down to the ground. Despite his lesser size, Khta was a rival in strength for Ahiman.
They wrestled for control.
Unfortunately, for Ahiman, Khta was the better wrestler.
What Ahiman did not see was that Abi was not running away. He was running to the edge of the Pit where a soldier threw down his sword to him.
It was a massive sickle sword of iron. And Abi was a master swordsman. Evidently, he did not care about the consequences of breaking the rules of combat. He was forfeiting his life. But he had figured he would most likely die at the hands of the gargantuan anyway. Better to be able to take him with him to Sheol than go alone in failure.
Khta grappled with Ahiman in a contest of strength and moves that resulted in Khta’s superior position.
Khta was the better wrestler, but Ahiman was stronger.
Eventually, he pinned Khta through sheer force, and head-butted him to break his nose. The physical damage would not weaken him in the state of combat, but the blood flow would be a hindrance.
Ahiman was just about to bend down and use his teeth to rip out Khta’s throat, when he noticed Khta’s eyes shift to see something behind Ahiman.
Someone behind Ahiman.
Ahiman reacted instinctively by rolling and pulling Khta on top of him, switching places.
He did it just in time as the sword of Abi swung down in an arc of judgment, slicing deep through Khta’s back, severing his spinal cord and cutting through his vital organs.
Khta released his grip in death and Ahiman rolled out from beneath him to face his attacker.
Up in the king’s box, Talmai moved to jump out of the box and help Ahiman.
“Talmai!” shouted Sheshai.
Talmai stopped.
Sheshai said in front of the king, “He is perfectly fine to take care of himself.”
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br /> Talmai gritted his teeth and stepped back down into the box with a growl.
Once Abi broke the rules, Ahiman was no longer bound to those rules, and it would be perfectly appropriate to even up the odds by having his brother join him. But Sheshai knew that if Ahiman did not do so, but stayed within the bounds of the rules to beat the cheater, then his integrity would be elevated in the eyes of the king and the people, and his accusations against the bodyguards proven just.
Abi swung his sword ferociously in a figure eight, leaving no room for Ahiman to do anything but back up—all the way to the edge of the Pit.
Ahiman whipped off his leather belt, leaving his loincloth in the dust. He stood naked before the slashing iron.
But he was not without strategy. He dove to the side and rolled in the dirt as Abi hit the Pit’s stone wall. Sparks flew in every direction.
Someone threw a sword into the arena near Ahiman.
But he did not take it up.
He did not need it.
When Abi turned toward Ahiman, he was ready.
Ahiman had figured the pattern of Abi’s slashing swings and used the leather belt like a whip to wrap around the General’s hand, jerking him forward into the dirt.
Ahiman stepped on the sword hand and crushed Abi’s palm and six fingers beneath his weight.
Ahiman kicked the sword aside, and kicked Abi into unconsciousness.
The crowd was rising with bloodlust. Their champion had turned the tables.
Ahiman raised his hands in victory.
The crowd chanted for blood.
Up in the box, Sheshai looked at King Hoham. He was stunned.
Sheshai whispered to him, “My lord, you have the undying allegiance of the brothers Arba. We are your servants.”
Ahiman had just won the contest and proved his cause. His accusations against the General and his bodyguards were proven justified by the gods.
But Ahiman was not done. Far from it.
He knelt down and grabbed Abi’s head in his hands. There was no need to crush his skull as he had Okrl’s. He was going to do something different to his General.
Something more spectacular.
He knelt on the supine giant’s sternum and pulled on the head with all his might.
The body of the mighty General was woven together with strong muscles and tendons.
But those muscles and tendons began to tear at the brute force of Ahiman’s grip.
And then a popping sound penetrated the stadium as Ahiman ripped the giant’s head and spine from his body, showing his superior strength.
He raised the disgorged skull and skeletal column high above like a trophy.
The chanting of the multitude had become so loud it drowned out all thoughts.
Sheshai needed no words to accentuate. The actions showed a mighty gibbor hero of the masses.
Talmai was smiling with pride over his big brother.
Ahiman reached down with his hand and thrust it under the General’s sternum and penetrated into his body cavity.
He grabbed the heart and ripped it from the corpse. He took a massive bite out of the organ. Then, chewing on his victory, he raised the heart high to the assembly along with the skeletal column.
There was no stopping him. Ahiman was the champion of the Anakim.
As he strode to the king’s box to present his bloody tokens of victory to the king, Sheshai pulled Talmai aside and whispered into his ears over the din of the multitude, “You see, brother, political strategy achieved what raw fury could not. Had you rushed into the ring to lessen the odds, the victory would be less as well. We are now more trusted than ever.”
Talmai smirked with satisfaction. Sheshai’s strategy of false accusation had worked.
Might made right.
• • • • •
King Hoham sat on his throne before the three kneeling Arba brothers. With sword on each shoulder, and Ba’al priest sprinkling holy blood, he proclaimed, “Sheshai and Talmai, I sanctify you as my personal bodyguard and war council.”
Then he turned to Ahiman and pronounced, “Ahiman, by your just proof of righteousness before the gods in the Arena of Gilgamesh, and the display of your faithful loyalty to your king, I anoint you as the new General supreme of my armed forces in the name of Ba’al the most high god.”
The ceremony would be later. For now, Hoham had to appoint the new positions lest unrest turn to anarchy in the ranks of the military. Ahiman would be the most feared general the Anakim army ever served.
But his aim was much higher. That is, Sheshai’s aim was much higher.
Ahiman was the strongest warrior who ever lived in the land of Canaan, but he was not strong of mind. He understood little and cared less for politics and statecraft. It was Sheshai who coached him behind the scenes, whose advice Ahiman followed with trust.
The Anakim worshipped power, and Ahiman had that power. But Sheshai knew that power could not rule without politics. And even though Sheshai was not strong enough to ever sit on the throne of his people, he knew he could rule through proxy. His brother commanded the respect and submission of those around him, but Sheshai orchestrated his every move. And he would orchestrate the rule of the state once his brother rose to the throne that they would eventually take from King Hoham.
The initiation was interrupted by the arrival of a messenger. He bowed before the king.
“What news do you bring?” said Hoham.
“My lord, I am loathe to say it is not good. Have mercy upon me.” Though it was not their fault, messengers were often executed in fits of rage for bad news.
“What say you?” said Hoham.
The messenger said, “The kingdom of Arad is desolate. They were raided by a tribe of Habiru, desert wanderers. They slaughtered every man, woman, and child with ruthless cruelty.”
“All the villages?” asked the king.
“All the villages, my lord. I alone escaped to seek your help.”
The kingdom of Arad was adjacent to the Anakim stronghold.
Talmai blurted out, “Who are these damned Habiru?”
“I do not know,” said the messenger. “Some say they came from Egypt many years back. But they are not Egyptian.”
Talmai started to get angry. “Some say? Some say? What kind of a scout is it that can only gather hearsay instead of evidence?”
Talmai stepped forward. The messenger stepped back in fear.
“Wait,” said Hoham. “From Egypt, you say?”
“Yes, my lord.”
Hoham looked at Ahiman, “Do you remember the prophecy of our forefather Anak? Did he not speak of the return of our sworn enemy from Egypt?”
Ahiman glanced at Sheshai, who nodded with subtlety.
Ahiman then nodded to Hoham.
Sheshai leaned in to quote the prophecy by memory, “The Children of Abraham will one day return to our holy land to finish the evil that their forefather could not; the destruction of Anak. But the sons of Anak will rise up and destroy Abraham’s seed to the very last man, woman, and child.”
Talmai offered, “We must find out if these Habiru are truly the children of Abraham.”
Hoham concluded, “Send scouts on reconnaissance to gather intelligence on them.”
Sheshai said, “Immediately, my king.”
But then Hoham concluded, “But regardless of their identity, they have pillaged too close to us, and they have transgressed our boundaries. Ahiman, prepare your forces for war.”
Chapter 13
The city of Jericho was located in the most central area of southern Canaan, not far west from the Jordan river, and had the largest spring of freshwater in the land. It had become a lush fertile oasis in the area that lay on the crossroads of access to the entire region. It was also the oldest city on earth, and had experienced many different occupations throughout the millennia.
Because of its central location and resources, it was of strategic military importance to the region and had evolved as a well-equipped fortress known fo
r its legendary walls. The city was about nine acres of land that hosted a population of a few thousand people, mostly armed forces. Even military forts needed crops, herds and commerce, so its population had expanded to include about one third civilians providing those services. Their patron deity was the moon god, Yarikh.
The walls that surrounded the oval shaped city were twofold. First, a retaining wall about forty feet high guarded the outer perimeter. But between that wall and the second forty-six foot high wall, was an embankment that rose another forty feet.
Some of the occupants lived inside the area between these two walls. Since their location provided less protection, the real estate was of less value. This resulted in the more questionable elements of society living between the walls, such as prostitutes, foreign travelers, and dependents on the welfare of the chief commander of the city.
One of those citizens had a home built against the outer wall to house a tavern and inn.
She was the innkeeper Rahab, a harlot.
When she first arrived at Jericho, she had changed her name from Arisha and assumed her new name to disguise her origins. But she had to work for her keep because she had too much dignity to be a lazy dependent on the commander’s good graces of welfare.
Unfortunately, her only training had been in the art of pleasuring men in anticipation of her status as a nymph back in Banias. So she pursued the only thing she could make good money at without becoming a slave: Prostitution.
At first, she joined a brothel in the lower class south end of the outer wall embankment. But she was so desired by the men, including some of the upper-class commanders, that she quickly rose in prominence and in income.
Rahab was now twenty eight years old. And she had a plan. She lived frugally and saved her money so that within a few years, she had saved enough money to purchase a failing tavern in the richer northern district of the rampart embankment.
Her personal fame brought in so much business that she was able to hire her own girls and become a madam, retaining only the richest or highest military clientele for herself.