Prize of War

by Carole Towriss

  She simply had to get out of there. The noise, the people, the questions. The winks and smiles and laughs. Her half-brothers and their very large families had arrived two days ago, and the women were flitting around the house preparing for the wedding feast. They’d been to the market at least three times, argued over what to serve twice, and she’d lost track of the number of times they’d counted how many guests to expect.

  Not once had they consulted her.

  Not once had it bothered her.

  She ambled through the tall, fragrant grasses. Spreading her fingers wide, she skimmed her hand over the tips of the blades. Some of their deep green color had faded as the summer’s heat intensified, but wildflowers of every color still abounded. Yellow daisies, blue baby’s breath, purple morning glory, and pink evening primrose dotted the fields, lifting her spirits.

  At the sight of the spring she released a slow breath, closed her eyes, and smiled. After kicking off her sandals, she eased into the water. Tension and worry washed away as the cool liquid swirled around her feet. She pulled her tunic up to her knees and waded in farther. This would be her last time in her beloved spring, and she wanted to enjoy it. Relish it. Commit every moment to memory.

  She held her arms wide and slowly turned, head back, face to the sun, soaking up the warmth, the light. Yahweh, grant me peace.

  Too much was happening too fast. She was willing to marry Othni. She was even willing to move to Kiriath-Sepher. But that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be change … so much change. She was leaving Hebron. Her cousins. Aunt Leah and Uncle Jacob. Even Mattan and Rinnah. The widows.

  And of course, Abba. She ignored the too-familiar stab of pain.

  She would be responsible for her own house. She’d done it all for Abba, but would Othni be pleased with her cooking? How she kept a house? With her as a wife? And if not … then what? Aunt Leah would not be nearby to ask for help, to grind wheat and barley with, to share lonely days with when Othni was busy doing … what?

  Would there be anyone she knew in that strange, new city?

  She stepped onto the sand and wrung out the bottom of her tunic before climbing onto her favorite rock. The limestone had been soaking up the sun all day, and now that heat seeped into her tired body, soothing it. She tucked her feet underneath her. She might miss this more than anything. Almost every day she managed to come out here, even if for only a few moments.

  Here was where she found Yahweh. Away from the noise and busyness of the city, the peace and stillness allowed her to quiet her heart and listen. She heard His voice in the soft lapping of ripples, in the chirps and calls of the birds. Caught a glimpse of His glory in the sunlight bouncing off the surface, in the brilliant colors of the flowers. Felt His touch when the breeze kissed her cheeks or the grass tickled her feet.

  Where would she find Him in Keriath-Sepher?

  Enosh laughed. How could he be so fortunate? He’d left Hebron to escape the ridiculously expensive preparations for that wedding, and who should show up?

  The bride. The one that should be his. He could just snatch her away right now. No one would ever know.

  Even he wouldn’t be that evil.

  Although he would love to ruin Othniel’s life in such a hideous manner, and Caleb’s for that matter, he wouldn’t do that to a woman.

  It was particularly irritating, though, to know she would be wed to someone as undeserving as that one.

  But Enosh would win it all back. He was smarter, braver and stronger than Othniel and eventually he would prevail.

  He need only be patient.

  Othni fought to keep from sticking his fingers in his ears. The chatter was overwhelming. These women prattled on and on, and very little of it was about the job at hand. Men never talked that much. Men spoke to communicate orders, give direction, clarify, or elaborate.

  He stared wide-eyed at the action in the courtyard of Caleb’s home. It fascinated him. There seemed to be no order whatsoever to their movement, and yet an astounding amount of work was being accomplished. No one seemed to be in charge, but everyone knew exactly what to do. And the noise …

  His head hurt.

  “Othniel, come with me.”

  He jumped and spun around.

  Caleb grinned and pointed his chin toward the courtyard gate. “Come walk with me. You look like you’ve been run over by an Anak.”

  Othni laughed and followed his uncle. “I’m truly amazed they get anything done at all.”

  “They are a wonder.”

  “Where’s Acsah?”

  “I think they frightened her off as well.” He pointed west. “She probably went to the spring. I saw her headed in that direction.”

  “The spring?”

  “That’s where she goes when she wants to be alone, and to pray.” Caleb was silent for a few moments. “I spoke to Salmah, since your abba could not approve. He assured me your house is ready.”

  “Yes, he told me.” Othni’s heart panged at the mention of his abba. How he longed for him to be here to share his joy. “I thought after our week here, she could take the time she needs to say goodbye to everyone, and I will go back to Kiriath-Sepher ahead of her to make sure all is prepared for her arrival.” And make sure the giants are still keeping their distance.

  Caleb nodded. “That’s very thoughtful. She would tend to hurry through her farewells if you were waiting nearby.”

  “I thought as much.”

  Caleb halted at the gate. “I’m going back to the house. Joshua will arrive soon.”

  Othni suppressed a groan. “He’s coming?”

  “Of course. He has known Acsah since she was a baby.”

  Joshua. Othni hadn’t seen him since that day in Gibeon…. If Caleb had forgiven him, perhaps Joshua would as well. But was his wedding the place to find out?

  Caleb leaned in close. “If you promise not to tell anyone I said you could, you may go see Acsah for a few moments. I think she’d love to see you.”

  Othni couldn’t stop the smile that took over his face. “How do I get there?”

  “Follow this road to the pistachio tree and turn right.”

  Othni waited until Caleb was out of sight before he started jogging.

  He turned at the tree and slowed his gait, calmed his breathing. At the water’s edge, he found his bride, her back to him. Every time he saw her, his heart raced. One leg was tucked under her on the rock, and one foot softly kicked the water. He crept up slowly, careful not to alarm her. He was perhaps ten paces away when his foot hit a dry twig, his heart nearly stopping at the loud snap.

  Acsah whipped her head around, mouth open at the sight of him. Her gaze dropped to his halted stride with one foot in midair, and she burst into laughter.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “At least it was a nice surprise.” She patted the rock beside her.

  He stood beside her on the limestone outcropping next to the water, glancing around before he sat. No wonder she loved it here. It was beautiful, peaceful. “Your abba said you come here to be alone. Do you want me to leave?”

  She shook her head. “No. I just wanted to be away from the house for a while.” She wrapped her arms around his bicep and leaned her head on his shoulder, sending a rush of heat through him.

  They sat in silence for a few moments. Othni rubbed the back of his neck. “Did Caleb say he would send someone for you?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Nothing.” He stood and scanned the area around the spring. He could swear someone was watching them. Must be nerves. Too much time in battle. He should get used to peace, since the wars were over.

  Hopefully.

  If the Anak stayed away.

  Chapter 8

  For this reason a man shall leave his father and his mother,

  and be joined to his wife; and they shall become one flesh.

  Genesis 2.24

  In Abba’s rooftop chamber, Acsah sighed as the nearly sheer linen slipped over her head. Although she u
sually wore the fine linen her abba could afford to purchase for her, this fabric was even softer than her everyday clothing. Abba had gone to great lengths to find the most expensive cloth in all Judah. He rarely flaunted his wealth, but when it came to his only daughter, the daughter Yahweh had given him so late in life … sometimes it was a little embarrassing. It made her feel special, adored, and guilty, all at the same time.

  Acsah breathed in deeply as Aunt Leah arranged the generous folds of the tunic, adjusting them for modesty and propriety. “Everyone has been talking about this day for weeks. Alona is beside herself with jealousy, but the others …” The rest of Leah’s words evaporated like morning dew as Acsah’s mind wandered.

  What was Othni doing right now? Was he thinking about her? Did it take the grooms as long to get ready as it did brides?

  Surely not.

  She jumped as her aunts, Naama and Shifra, appeared at her elbow. When had they entered?

  “Acsah, my dear. I want you to wear this necklace today.” Naama was actually her half-brother Iru’s wife, but they were so much older than she was they were more like aunt and uncle.

  A beautiful gold loop chain with a turquoise pendant rested in her wrinkled hands. “My great-grandmother brought it from Egypt.” She slowly dropped the necklace into Acsah’s palm.

  Acsah studied the magnificent blue-green stone. “Oh, it’s so beautiful.” She turned back to Aunt Naama and embraced her. “This is so thoughtful of you. Thank you so much.”

  Shifra, brother Elah’s wife, stepped closer. “These earrings were my mother’s. I wore them at my wedding. I have no daughters, so I want you to have them.”

  “Oh, Shifra, are you sure? Not your daughters-in-law? Granddaughters?”

  Shifra scoffed. “My daughters-in-law have taken enough already. They are selfish.” She smiled. “Not like you. Now put them on. I want to see.”

  Acsah attached the gold baubles to her ears. “Thank you both. You are so good to me.”

  “I’m glad we could come rejoice with you. We’ve missed so much of your life. Iru is thrilled to see you married. We were beginning to worry, you know.” Naama nodded knowingly.

  And there it was. The first of many comments she was sure to hear all day long. They meant well, to be sure, but she didn’t need to be reminded she was sixteen and should have married long before now.

  She smiled and nodded, hugging them both again.

  “Thank you, sisters,” Aunt Leah said. “We need to finish dressing her, so we’ll see you downstairs. Goodbye, now.” She gently hustled the aunts out of the room.

  Acsah chuckled softly. “Thank you. But I don’t think you can follow me around and do that all day to everyone who reminds me how old I am.”

  Leah grasped her shoulders. “You are exactly where you should be, marrying who you should be, when you should be. Yahweh is watching over you. Ignore everyone else.”

  Since Imma had died, Aunt Leah had become her second mother. Her own children grown by now, she had helped raise her. What would Acsah do without her? Acsah grabbed her in a fierce hug. She would miss her as much as Abba.

  Leah patted her back. “Enough of this, motek. We need to get you downstairs.” She pulled away and swiped at her wet cheeks, glancing around the room. “Now, where did I put the veil? Ah, there. Let’s go.” She gestured toward the steps.

  Abba waited at the bottom of the stairs. He wrapped his strong arms around her. “You know how much I love you, don’t you?” His voice was rough.

  “Of course I do, Abba. I love you, too. I’m going to miss you so much.” The tears she had successfully managed to hold back finally escaped.

  “You are the greatest treasure of my life, the best gift Yahweh has ever given me. And now I must give you away. But Othniel is a good man, and he loves you as much as I do. I know this. He will take good care of you.”

  He pulled back. “I have one last gift for you.” He stepped into the broadroom and returned with a small bag. “Open it.” His eyes twinkled.

  The bag tinkled as she untied the string wrapped around the top. She reached inside and pulled out a small stack of silver bracelets. “Oh, Abba, they’re exquisite!”

  “Here, let me. One last time.” He picked the shining rings from her palm one by one, slipping them onto her wrists.

  “There. You are ready.” His voice cracked as he cupped her face in his rough, warm hands and kissed each cheek.

  Then he straightened and walked quickly from the room.

  By the end of the day, she would marry a warrior, break her promise to Imma, and leave Abba to spend the rest of his life alone.

  How could she be ‘exactly where she should be,’ if all that was happening?

  In the courtyard of his Hebron home, a stone’s throw from the western gate, Enosh crouched in the shadows, watching.

  He ran his thumb up and down the edge of his dagger.

  Caleb was hosting Othniel’s wedding feast. Would the injustice never end? Where was Othniel’s abba? Somewhere in the corner of his mind, Enosh vaguely remembered that he had died.

  So what? So had Enosh's father. Would Caleb host his wedding feast as well? If he’d married Acsah, probably.

  But it wasn’t Enosh marrying her, it was him. Talking to Joshua, being congratulated by the entire town of Hebron when he didn’t even live here, didn’t know any of these people. Enosh was the one who had lived here, planned his every move to gain Caleb’s favor. All his planning for naught.

  He sheathed his dagger, tilted his head from one side to the other, cracking his neck. He massaged one shoulder with the thumb and fingers of one hand as his gaze swept the crowd. So much food, so many people. This wedding was absurd.

  At the end of the week Othniel and his bride would move to Kiriath-Sepher to begin their beautiful, happy new life together.

  Surely they didn’t count on Enosh being part of that life. What a terrible surprise.

  For them.

  For him, the beginning of his plan to set things right.

  Othni swallowed another mouthful of roasted lamb, then examined the piece he held in his hands. He could see leaves and minced garlic, but to him the meat was all but tasteless. The women had fussed and bickered about the spices most of the day as the lamb cooked over a crackling fire, arguing over whose recipe was better. Although from what he could hear, they differed little, only in the amounts of the various spices. The debate seemed to be more about who was in control than about cooking.

  Acsah’s laugh floated by him on the air, invading his thoughts. He moaned and shoved the last bit of bread in his mouth. The men were separated from the women, and he couldn’t get anywhere near her, even though they were now married. He had completed all the required steps. Caleb had given his approval. Acsah had consented. He had paid the bride price in copious amounts of blood and sweat and pain. And he had built their new home.

  He’d been married for most of the day now, but he had been alone with her for only a few moments, and he was losing patience. He wanted to be with his wife. To hold her, obviously. But he also wanted to learn her favorite color, her favorite food, her favorite spice. Why did she love that spring so much? Did she like sunrises or sunsets better? Did she ever think about the time they spent together on the other side of the Jordan?

  Had she ever been interested in another man?

  Joshua sat next to him. “Didn’t eat much, did you?” He chuckled.

  “I’m not hungry.” He’d bet Joshua hadn’t eaten much at his wedding, either.

  Joshua ripped a round of bread in half as he glanced across the courtyard. “Caleb is having a hard time letting go.”

  Othni cleared his throat. “I know. I feel bad, but he’s the one who decided she would go with the victor. He had to know this day would come.”

  “Doesn’t make it any easier. Wait until you’re a father. It is easier to conquer a city than to raise a daughter.”

  Othni’s neck warmed. Children? He wasn’t ready to think about children today
. He dragged his hand through his hair.

  “On that subject, are you ready to be shophet of a city?”

  “I think so. I’m not sure.” Pulling the bowl of almonds closer, he grabbed a handful then popped a few in his mouth.

  “You need to be sure. A shophet is more than just a leader. You will be administrator, champion, advocate, judge. There are those who would love to see you fail.”

  Like Enosh.

  “You are young, and many will try to use that against you. If you doubt yourself, they’ll doubt you even more.”

  Othni drew in a deep breath. How was he supposed to get rid of his doubt? “If you could give me one piece of advice, what would it be?”

  “I would tell you the one thing Yahweh told me: ‘Keep the law in your heart, and meditate on it day and night.’ He gave us His law to guide us. If we follow it, we will be protected. To do that, we must know it. Study it. Learn it. Live by it.”

  Live by it. He made it sound so easy. “How do I do that?”

  “You must be certain every decision you make lines up with His law in every aspect.” Joshua leaned nearer, his gaze penetrating. “Never compromise.”

  Never compromise. Probably sounded easier than it would be. “Thank you.” Othni picked up an olive leaf and tore it in half, again, and again. “Until now, I’ve always followed the commands of others. Making the decisions will be new for me.”

  “You’ll be fine. You have made excellent choices in your own life so far.”

  Othni looked across the courtyard at Caleb, who sat talking to Jonah, head down, wiping his eyes. Othni’s heart nearly broke.

  He returned his attention to Joshua. “I think I need to talk to Caleb.”

  Joshua glanced at his oldest friend, then back at Othni. “That’s a good idea.”

  Othni crossed the courtyard, winding his way through the crowd, smiling and accepting the wishes of villagers and townspeople, most of whom he did not know.