Salmah stepped nearer. “What he said was, a besieging army will always outlast those behind the wall as long as the food and water are securely cut off. They obviously aren’t.”
“They are. They have to be.” Enosh stalked off, mumbling to himself.
Siah took a bite of cheese and leaned toward Othni. “I certainly don’t wish to spend many more weeks out here sitting around waiting.”
“We won’t. Salmah won’t let that happen.” Othni lifted his skin and squirted a long draw into his mouth. “He’ll—”
“You two.” Enosh stomped toward the fire, fingers pointed to Othni and his brother. “You stand guard at the gates, all night if that’s what it takes. I want to know how they are bringing in water. Take some men with you.”
Othni looked at Salmah.
Enosh closed the distance between them in three strides. “I am the commander! He does not need to approve my orders! Move, now!” His face reddened, and Othni and Siah jumped to their feet. Enosh stalked away once more.
Salmah shrugged. “Can’t hurt. Stay out of sight.”
Othni grabbed his bow, quiver, and skin. “Siah, gather eight or ten more. Might as well have company.” He approached a group of archers.
Siah grinned. “Yes, captain.”
“Malachi.”
A young man, all arms and legs, rose onto his knees. “Yes?”
Othni jerked his head. “Come with me, cousin.”
Malachi’s face brightened like a child who had been given a honey cake as he bounded up the hill after Othni, bow in hand.
Othni should have made him stay back in Bethlehem. Malachi was too young. Othni knew that, but he’d let Malachi talk him into coming along. To refuse would have meant arguing with him in front of the entire town. Malachi would have hated him, but he would have been safe. All Othni could do now was ensure he kept him as far away from the real fighting as possible.
When Siah returned with the men he’d gathered, the group crept toward the crest of the hill, just below the walls of the fortified city.
Othni split the group in half. He sent half north with Siah and took the others south.
The south gate was much smaller than the massive eastern gate. That gate was on a trade route, so presumably the western gate was the same size, large enough for Canaanite iron chariots, while the north and south gates only needed to allow the residents to access the fields and wells.
After half a night of watching, Othni had had enough. The giants were not coming out at night to draw water, and everyone knew it. They had to have some source of water inside the walls, and he was going to find it. He touched Malachi’s arm. “I should be back before dawn. If I’m not, get back, and I’ll meet you at camp.” He scurried off before anyone could lob any questions at him.
He skirted along the southeast section of the wall, running his hands along the gargantuan stones perched atop one another. Standing at the base of the wall, craning his neck, he marveled at the sight. The wall seemed to go on forever, reaching to heaven itself. He tried to stick his fingers between the stones. No space. He slid his hands along the cold rocks, searching for an opening. There was nothing. Rock solidly against rock.
These walls would be impossible to bring down.
He scanned the hill below. If there was a well, there had to be an underground source of water. And since they’d managed to hold out this long, it seemed the giants had found a way to get to that source. And if so, maybe there was an outside entrance. He’d seen it before, in Megiddo.
The source would likely be directly below the well. He worked his way down the hill until he was south of the well. Sand would, in most ways, make it far more difficult to hide an opening than brush and leaves. The waning moon’s light made searching difficult. He dug through sand, an arm’s length deep, holes about half a man’s height apart.
He was just about to give up when he hit stone. He brushed away more sand and revealed a wall. This had to be where they had blocked the entrance to the spring. Could have been a natural cave or grotto to begin with, or perhaps a tunnel. Hard to tell in the dark. He’d seen both. He shoved sand back over it. Whatever it was, it needed to be properly examined, and there wasn’t enough time left before dawn. They’d have to come back tomorrow night, earlier and with more men.
Othni headed to camp to explain what he had found. He sat by the fire and grabbed his waterskin.
“What do you think it is?” Siah looked from Othni to Salmah to Enosh.
Enosh glared. He had resisted Othni as a captain, but Caleb had prevailed, and Enosh missed no opportunity to make his displeasure known. “Don’t be foolish. There’s no tunnel to the water.”
“Almost every walled city we have come across has a way to outside water for this very reason—to withstand a siege. This makes sense. How else are they surviving?” Othni took a long draw from his skin.
Siah stroked his beard. “If we can truly cut off their water, they’ll come out to fight. We have at least twice the men they have. If we can get them out in the open, we’ll win.”
Salmah stood. “We should send men to check it out tomorrow night. Take some torches with a tiny amount of tar on them for very low light.”
“I’ll think about it.” Enosh growled the words.
“I’m getting some sleep before then,” Salmah said. “A messenger arrived while you were away. Caleb’s expected tomorrow.” He headed for the bottom of the hill.
Othni was too tired to move. He lay back on the sand. He’d just sleep by the fire.
Nothing more would happen until tomorrow night.
Chapter 3
"But where can wisdom be found?
And where is the place of understanding?”
Job 28.12
“Yemima, this is delicious.” Acsah sopped the last of the lentil stew from her bowl with flatbread. “What spice did you put in there?”
“It’s a secret. I cannot tell you.” The old woman snickered. Thin gray hair peeked out from her headcloth, and bony shoulders barely held up her tunic. She raised one crooked finger. “I will tell you I do not use cumin.”
“No cumin? Everyone puts cumin in lentil stew.”
She shrugged. “Not me. And you said yourself it was delicious.”
“It is.” She set the bowl aside. “Have you heard anything from your grandchildren? About the house?”
She sighed. “No. Not in weeks. If they weren’t going to sell it, wouldn’t they have told me by now? They’re avoiding me.”
“Maybe I can find out for you.”
“Would you? Even if they say no, at least I would know.”
“What are their names? Do they live here?”
“No, but Ezra, the oldest, comes to the market every week. He sells wine.”
“I’ll see what I can find out.” She kissed her cheek. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”
The morning sun beat down on Acsah as she headed further around Hebron’s main road.
“Judith, this is lovely. How long did this take you?” Acsah skimmed her fingers over the expertly woven rug still hanging from the loom in the widow’s courtyard.
“Most of the spring.” Sitting at the bottom of the wooden frame, Judith fingered the fringed edge. “Do you really think it will sell? My eyesight is not as good as it once was.”
“Not only will it sell, it will bring a very fine price.”
A wide grin took over Judith’s face.
“I’ll take down your rug and we’ll get it to market. That should give you some silver, and with harvest almost upon us, you’ll soon have jars full of wheat and barley, not to mention plenty of fruit to dry.”
The widow flashed a toothy grin. “Fresh wheat.”
“I did have something to tell you today.” Acsah started at one end of top of the frame, untying the many knots holding the rug to the frame. “Something not so pleasant.”
Her face fell. “Not Yemima? Don’t tell me her husband’s family have taken the house.”
“Not yet. I’
m going to try to talk to the grandchildren. See what they have in mind.”
“I’ve not heard good things about that family. Yemima was quite unhappy. Her husband loved her, but his family was never good to her.”
“That’s not encouraging.”
A young servant girl burst through the gate. “You must return home at once!”
“Rinnah, what are you talking about?”
“Your abba is leaving for Kiriath-Sepher. If you wish to say goodbye, you must come now.”
Acsah bolted from Judith’s house, Rinnah close behind her.
Abba sat on a bench in the courtyard lacing his sandals. How she hated those shoes. He only wore those when he went to war.
“Abba, do you have to go?” Acsah tried to keep her voice steady, but still it wavered.
“I’ll return soon. I need to check on Enosh's progress.” He stood and tied his leather belt. “The messenger said there’d been none at all.”
She chewed on her bottom lip. “Then do you at least promise you will not fight?”
He slid his short sword into its sheath as he stood and fixed his gaze on hers. “No, I do not. I cannot send my men into battle and then stand back and watch, safely out of harm’s way.”
“But, Abba!”
“Acsah.” He closed his eyes, clenched his jaw. “Enough. Please pack me some food while I finish.” His voice was annoyingly calm.
She opened her mouth to respond, but a glance from Abba silenced her. Willing her feet to carry her, she made her way through the house to the broadroom in back. The varied scents swirled around her as she scanned the floor-to-ceiling shelves. She grabbed a sack and reached for some rounds of bread.
Every time she thought the fighting was over, another battle arose. Abba had driven the Anakim out of Hebron for good. Hebron was theirs forever. But the giants had only retreated south.
Abba was without doubt Judah’s most celebrated warrior. Maybe all of Israel’s. But hadn’t he done enough? Couldn’t he rest now?
She hugged her waist with one arm and leaned against the long table with the other for a moment. She closed her eyes to keep from crying. A gentle hand landed on her shoulder, and Acsah jerked her head up.
Rinnah patted her shoulder, then gently took the sack from Acsah’s hands. The girl’s soft brown eyes held hers. “Please don’t cry. Yahweh will keep him safe. He’ll be home soon.” She placed the bread at the bottom then added dried figs, dates, and raisins before she tied a string around the top and set it in front of her mistress.
Acsah gathered the girl in a fierce hug. “Thank you, Rinnah.” The encouragement was worth far more than the help packing the food. She would miss the girl when she left for Kiriath-Sepher.
She sniffled. Abba would not approve if he saw her like this. She had to be strong. She was a warrior’s daughter. Drawing in a shuddering breath, she stood tall. Wiped her eyes. Walked through the house and the courtyard, where Abba waited with his donkey.
“Thank you, motek.” He kissed her cheek, tied the bag to the rest of his gear, mounted the animal, and rode south.
Acsah dropped onto the bench. Why, Yahweh, why? Why are you doing this to me? Why now another battle? Why the marriage? Why a soldier? Why Enosh? You know what will happen … the same thing that happened before.
When her heartbeat and her runaway thoughts had finally settled down, the most important thing pushed its way to the front of her mind. Abba.
Yahweh, keep him safe. Bring him back to me.
She’d already lost her imma. She couldn’t lose him, too.
Othni fought through the fog of too little sleep. Why was someone shaking him? “What?” He threw his arm over his eyes and rolled away from the noise. He’d been up all day and nearly all night. Why couldn’t he be left alone?
“Wake up!” The frantic tone of Siah’s voice snapped him fully alert.
Othni sat up, struggling to focus through the dusky light around him. “What’s wrong?”
“Enosh is sending climbers to the walls.”
A chill shot through his heart. He jumped to his feet. “What? Why would he do that?”
“He’s almost halfway through the days Caleb gave him. He’s convinced this is the only way we can get in or bring the Anakim out where we can fight them. And I think he wants to force something before Caleb arrives.”
Othni groaned. “We’ll be slaughtered. What did Salmah say?”
Siah grimaced. “Enosh didn’t ask him. He’s still sleeping at the bottom of the hill. He wanted to be rested before Caleb arrives later today.”
Othni tied on his belt. What was Enosh thinking? An incredibly risky move, sending men to the wall. Nothing good could come of it. Othni and Salmah had discussed a direct attack and dismissed it.
Enosh must be getting desperate.
Othni and his brother moved toward the group of men gathered around Enosh. They stayed at the back of the crowd but close enough to hear the instructions the commander barked.
“I want men on the east and west. We want to split their attention and their energy, draw them in different directions, and reduce their effectiveness. Banging hooks into the wall to lash a rope to the ladder will give us away, so each climber will have a second man to help carry the ladder and then secure it in place. Get to the top and over as quickly as you can before being discovered. Once inside, try to open the gates so the rest of us can enter.” He stared down the men. “One way or another, we’ll force a fight. We’re ending this siege today.”
The soldiers disbursed. The men chosen to climb Kiriath-Sepher’s soaring walls stole to the edge of the city. In early morning’s gloomy light, they crawled up the revetment like agama lizards, each pair with a ladder between them. The first men reached the eastern wall then slid the ladder along the stones toward the top. Others skirted around the south. The climbers started, their partners grasping the wooden structure, holding on tight.
The tension was thick, as the rest of Enosh's men watched from the east, waiting for the war to begin.
Salmah raced up the hill, hands fisted. He grabbed Enosh, spinning him around. “What are you doing?” His voice was calm, but his eyes threw daggers.
“I’ve sent climbers in. They’ll force the giants out into the open where we can defeat them.”
Salmah eyed Enosh for a long moment. “I fear all you have done is stir up a scorpion’s nest. I do not believe this was a wise move.”
Enosh pushed back his shoulders, lifted his chin. “We had to do something. We can’t keep sitting here waiting.”
“There were other options.”
He sneered. “Perhaps. But I am commander. I chose this one.” He turned his back on Caleb’s representative, focusing on his climbers.
Salmah strode past Othni. “Ready your archers. I want those men covered.”
Othni nodded and sprinted down toward his men. The archers, deemed unnecessary by Enosh, huddled together about halfway down the hillock. “Everyone get ready. Grab your bows.” He turned to go, then scanned the group. “Where’s Malachi?”
The men looked at each other, but no one spoke.
“Where’s Malachi?” he demanded.
“He was sent with a climber.”
Othni found Siah, his heart threatening to break out of his chest. “Enosh sent Malachi to the wall.”
Siah’s face paled. They raced to the hilltop, searched the Israelites surrounding the city. Malachi was partnered with one of the climbers, holding the bottom of the ladder.
Bile rose in Othni’s throat. He ran his hands through his hair, sliding down to his haunches as he watched and prayed for his young cousin. Yahweh, protect him.
A camp boy handed out crusty bread and hard cheese to the bowmen.
Othni forced the food down and followed it with a long drink from his waterskin. Once the rest of his men joined them, they started toward the hill closest to the city while he explained their assignment.
When they reached the bottom of the hill, Othni told the others t
o wait as he crept to the top of the rise. The sun climbed higher in the eastern sky. Bow in his left hand, quiver over his shoulder, Othni lay on his belly with just his head peering over the top of the hill. A hundred archers crouched below him, awaiting his signal. They remained hidden, unwilling to expose the climbers yet, but ready to loose their arrows as soon as danger appeared.
Othni drew the back of his hand across his brow and then wiped the sweat on his tunic. If only he could get rid of the sense of dread building in his gut as easily.
Even with the majority of the giants asleep, the climbers were discovered before the first man peered over the wall. The Anakim quickly deployed along the rampart, and Othni released his archers. Within moments the stealth mission turned into an all-out battle. Things were not going according to Enosh's plan. He had miscalculated—gravely. Mayhem ruled.
The metallic scent of blood filled Othni’s nose. He could almost taste it. Shutting out the clamor around him, he took aim and loosed another arrow at a defender atop the wide wall. The barb found its mark, burying itself in the giant’s bicep. Blood trickled from the wound.
The blond giant ripped it from his massive arm. He threw it to the ground behind him with as much effort as Othni would need to toss a leaf. Aiming his bow, the man let loose a thick arrow twice as long as those of the Israelites.
The arrow landed just beyond him as Othni reached over his shoulder. He grabbed at air for a moment. He was running out of arrows.
The Israelites were running out of time.
Othni aimed. He hit the same giant, this time in the thigh.
Again, the Anak warrior ripped it out, but this time some flesh came out with the arrow. Blood ran down his leg. He roared and jumped off the wall, disappearing behind the wall into the city. Several others followed him.
A ram’s horn blared twice. Enosh had called for retreat. Climbers scurried back down the ladders. Archers did their best to provide cover.
Within moments the Anakim reappeared atop the wall. They taunted the Israelites, towering over them, hurling arrows, rocks, even pottery. Scattered pairs lugged giant pots between them. Spread out along the parapet, above the ladders, they slowly tipped the pots. Hot liquid streamed out, steam rising over their heads like transparent towers.
Prize of War Page 4