Prize of War

by Carole Towriss

  When he reached Caleb’s pastures, Othni released a soft gasp. Caleb’s flocks had grown more than Othni had expected. There had to be over one thousand sheep, half that many goats. Maybe four hundred oxen. Same number of donkeys. Young boys tended the animals, and an enormous enclosed fold lay to the north of the grazing area.

  Caleb folded his arms. “Have you ever plowed a field, planted anything?”

  And when would he do that? Between battles? In the wilderness? Othni shook his head.

  “All right. The basics: When you get home, plow once in very wide furrows.” Caleb moved his hands slowly in front of his body as he spoke. “This is to allow the first rains to soften the soil. After the rain, plow again, a little closer together. Plow the way you want the rows to run and then sow your seed, then the other way to cover the seed.”

  Othni nodded. Didn’t seem too complicated.

  “I’ll give you some barley seed. Wheat won’t grow down there, but barley is much hardier.”

  “Thank you again.”

  They continued walking. “Now, how do you intend to apportion the land?”

  “Well…” Othni ran several scenarios through his mind, all of which ended in huge arguments. His shoulders drooped. “I have no idea.”

  “You could do it by lot. Joshua assigned the whole of Canaan to the tribes by lot. You could do no worse. Then no one can accuse you of playing favorites.” Caleb moved toward the oxen. “Before the Feast, for the harvest, how did you handle the fruit trees?”

  Othni ran his hands along the shoulders and back of an ox. “At that time only soldiers who fought with me had settled there, so I asked everyone to help get everything harvested, and I told them I would take care of it later. They trusted me to be fair, and we got it done, except the olives, which aren’t ready yet. But anyone who moves down now will want to know what’s theirs.”

  Caleb folded his arms. “I heard Enosh found you earlier this week.”

  He clenched his jaw. The memory of that man so close to his wife … It had taken all his self-control not to attack him at that moment. “He found Acsah.”

  “Did he threaten you?”

  Enosh's words echoed in his mind. “He said it’s not over. Do you think he’ll show up there?”

  “I wouldn’t put it past him.” Caleb’s face darkened. “If he does, you must never argue with him in front of people if you can help it. I did that once, not with Enosh but with someone else. It was a bad move.”

  “What happened?”

  “I thought if we had our ‘discussion’ in front of the men, they would understand my reasons for my decision.” Caleb shook his head. “But all it did was allow them to choose sides. I was the commander, so my decisions stood, but it took a long time to get their trust and their loyalty back. Whenever you can, make your arguments private.”

  “And if he picks a fight with me in public?”

  “State your orders, walk away.”

  Sounded easy to say, harder to do.

  Caleb gestured to the oxen. “Did you pick a pair?”

  Othni shrugged. “They all look good to me. Just give me any two.”

  “All right. We’ll get them ready.”

  As Caleb ambled over to a couple of the boys, gesturing to a pair of animals, the responsibilities of Debir began piling up in Othni’s mind. What had Joshua said? Administrator, champion, advocate, judge. And now added to that, Enosh. Battling every decision he made. Harassing Acsah. Stirring up enemies.

  Could he handle all that?

  Acsah rubbed Donkey’s nose as she waited at Hebron’s city gate. He’d been with her three years and could travel the route from Hebron to Bethlehem without any instruction. “Now you’ll have to learn another road. You can do that, can’t you?” She rubbed his nose again and gave him the carrots she’d brought from the kitchen. Abba certainly would have scolded her had he seen. Carrots were for people. Straw was for donkeys.

  As Acsah waited, a family headed toward them from the center of town. They were newer residents of Hebron, and she hadn’t met them yet. A donkey pulled a cart loaded with what appeared to be all their possessions. She grabbed Donkey’s lead and pulled him to the side so the family could exit, but they simply halted.

  Strange.

  Soon more people coming from the north gathered on the road outside. Some she recognized from her visits to Bethlehem. They, too, looked like they carried everything they owned.

  More people—some couples, some families—lined up inside. Many she recognized.

  Othni strolled up, kissed her cheek. He glanced at the Bethlehem crowd and smiled, didn’t appear at all surprised. What was going on?

  She grabbed a handful of his tunic at the neck and pulled his face down to hers. “Othni, why are all these people here?”

  He placed his hand over hers and placed his mouth close to her ear. “A number of men told Caleb they would move down to Debir after the Feast. They wanted to harvest their crops in Hebron first to have food for winter.”

  “Oh.” She released him. That was probably a good thing. Debir was only half occupied. They needed to fill the town with people who cared about the new city as much as Othni did.

  But did it have to be such a surprise? Couldn’t he have warned her?

  Leah joined them. Abba followed carrying a lower grinding stone.

  “What’s this?” Acsah ran her fingers over the stone.

  “I thought you could use this in your new home,” Leah said. “It’s always nice to have someone to grind the day’s grain with, since it occupies so much of your day. And if you have an extra quern, it’s easier for someone to join you.”

  “But Leah, what about you?” She watched Abba secure the stone on Donkey’s back.

  “I can get another one easily, if I choose. Much more easily than you can.” She gathered Acsah into a hug.

  Abba helped Acsah saddle the animal, then led her out of the gate and onto the road to Debir, where two boys waited with two huge horned animals.

  She pointed to the pair. “What are these?”

  Abba grinned. “The boys, or the oxen?”

  She made a face. “Very funny.”

  “Your husband bought them.”

  “The boys, or the oxen?”

  Abba burst into laughter.

  “Very good, motek. At least you haven’t lost your sense of humor.”

  Othni put the oxen at the front of the line. Behind them he put the other families who had journeyed with them from Debir a week ago. Following them he placed the new families with their carts and animals onto the road one after another.

  “And you, Siah, I want back here to make sure no one gets left behind.”

  When he was satisfied, Othni took his place at the front of the caravan with Acsah. “Thank you again, Uncle Caleb.”

  “You are most welcome, Othniel. Take care of my daughter.” Abba embraced her, helped her mount Donkey, and bid her farewell. It seemed easier for him this time.

  Halfway there, Acsah coughed and pulled her head scarf over her mouth and nose. How could those oxen kick up so much dust that it filled the air even when she was in front of them? Not to mention with so many people, the trip was taking twice as long.

  After what felt like all day, the walls of Debir came into view. The sun was just past its highest point, however, so the trip hadn’t been nearly as long as it felt. Othni dismounted, then jogged forward to open the gates, one at a time. The caravan entered and moved toward the center of the city.

  Othni directed them into a large circle, then climbed onto a cart in the center of the group to address them. “Welcome to Debir. First, we’ll make arrangements for all of you to have a place to stay for the next few weeks. Then you’ll choose a place to build a home, and tomorrow I’ll assign land for planting barley to each man.”

  The men nodded and murmured their approval, and Othni continued. “We’ll build two or three houses at a time, working together. That way we’ll have a few more completed every couple of wee
ks so we can all be a little less crowded.”

  Light chuckles rippled through the group.

  Othni stood tall as he spoke. In his short time as shophet, he had gained so much confidence. Acsah enjoyed watching him. He could tell them all what to do and yet put them at ease at the same time.

  “We also need to get the first plowing done on all the land before the rains come, so we have a great deal of work to do. We’ll need everyone’s cooperation and Yahweh’s blessing.”

  Othni gestured behind him. “The houses will be built against the wall. A main ring road will be built in front of them all the way around, with several spokes leading to the center, where we will eventually restore the reservoir. Now, then, who wants to choose first?”

  A tall figure shouldered his way through the crowd. “I will.”

  Acsah’s blood ran cold as the familiar voice rang out.

  What’s he doing here? Yahweh, help me.

  Othni held his ground as Enosh stepped out of the crowd to within a few strides of him. Enosh's parting warning from just a few days ago—“This isn’t over”—rang in Othni’s head.

  “I want this place here.” Enosh marched to a spot north of the gate and paced off an area larger than Othni’s home.

  Othni surveyed the amount of land Enosh claimed. Did Enosh have any family? He had never spoken of any. None seemed to be with him now. “Is your family with you?”

  “Does it matter?”

  Othni raised a brow. “It does. You need all this space?”

  Enosh puffed out his chest as if daring him to deny the request. More like a demand. “I don’t need it; I want it.” He gestured at the half-empty town. “Is there a reason I can’t have it? Are you saving it for something?”

  Othni crossed his arms. Surveyed the space before him. He’d built his house large because he wanted to build a family with Acsah, not because he wanted to flaunt his power or position. It appeared Enosh wanted something bigger simply to challenge him.

  He returned his gaze to Enosh. “We need to make sure there is enough room for everyone who needs it. I expect to fill the northeast and northwest quarters today. What I can do is reserve space next to yours until you do need it. Until then, you may build something fit for what you need now, or in the near future.”

  Enosh stared back. His eyes said he wanted to argue, but he only nodded.

  Othni turned to the rest of the men. “Who’s next?”

  After all had claimed space and neighbors they were satisfied with, it was time to find a place for everyone to stay while those homes were built.

  “Does anyone already know someone with whom they intend to stay for the next few weeks?”

  Several families did and left to stay with relatives or friends—soldiers who had already claimed houses in the city.

  “For the rest, I need those of you who already have a home here to let me know how many guests you can take.”

  An older man, balding with a rounded belly and an infectious laugh, stepped to the front. “I can take in three couples, but not so many children.” Jedediah was a favorite of Othni’s. His nephew was one of Othni’s soldiers, and he had moved down earlier with him. Generous to a fault, he would give his last meal to a stranger even if he were starving himself.

  Unless you mistreated his children. And he and Deborah had several. Four? Five?

  A young man and his even younger wife neared Jedediah. Another couple with only one child came forward. Most of the rest of the group were married couples with several children, narrowing the choices.

  “Anyone without children?” Othni looked around. Seeing no one, he turned to Jedediah. “I think that may be all for you.”

  Jedediah turned to go, but Enosh came from the back of the group. “I’ll go.”

  “Very well.” Othni finished finding homes for the new families with those who had already built homes, and the crowd disbursed. Roofs, common rooms, and even courtyards soon filled with sleeping mats.

  Othni searched for Acsah. She must already have gone home. He hurried toward their house. She sat in the courtyard with a pair of women and a few children, their largest cooking pot in the midst of them, pouring several handfuls of lentils into the pot.

  He entered the courtyard gate and approached the strangers. “I’m Othni, Acsah’s husband.”

  The older of the two stood. “I am Eilah, wife of Hiram.”

  “And I am her sister, Simona, and these are my daughters, Lael, Marah and Sabra. My husband is Amram, and our sons are with him. We’re from Bethlehem.”

  “Yes. I’ve met him. I believe yours is one of the first houses to be completed as it’s just down the road. Welcome. I’m sure you’ll love it here.”

  “Thank you. Your wife is delightful.”

  He winked at Acsah. “I think so. Excuse me. I came for some waterskins.” He moved toward the broadroom, where he could still hear the women talking.

  “I don’t think we’ll have time to grind enough flour. We’ll have to make do with less bread than usual.” Eilah sighed loudly.

  “Then let’s make sure we have a lot of lentil stew.” Simona laughed. “Lael, go see if you can find our box of vegetables from the cart.”

  “Don’t bother, we’ll use mine.” Acsah’s sweet voice reached him. He’d missed hearing it all day. “We can use yours tomorrow. You’ll be here a while.”

  After he found the skins, he returned the courtyard and kissed Acsah on the cheek before he left. He stopped at their gate to watch her a moment before he returned to the men. The next weeks would be exceptionally busy. There would be plowing, sowing, building, not to mention making sure everyone got settled and got along. And now with Enosh in town …

  Did Acsah understand how heavily this responsibility weighed on him? And how much she meant to him?

  How could he manage the city, control Enosh, and be a good husband?

  If he succeeded at one, he was sure to fail at another.

  Enosh awoke on the roof of Jedediah’s house. He yawned and stretched his weary, aching limbs. All yesterday afternoon had been spent moving stones, and not one of them to be used on his house. Infuriating. Othniel probably kept his home out of the first group to be built just to irritate him. It had better be in the next group.

  He glanced around—he was the last one awake. Not good. After he dragged himself up and rolled up his sleeping mat he climbed down the ladder. The women, including Dania, were in the courtyard, sitting around a fire and grinding grain. Jedediah and the two other men staying at his house waited at the gate.

  “Finally up, I see.” Jedediah grinned.

  “Don’t listen to him. We just came down ourselves.” The man named Joab, or Joed—he couldn’t remember—laughed.

  Jedediah gestured south. “We’re going to work on the houses up the street until first meal. Then Othni asked us to meet him in the center of town.”

  Enosh stifled a groan. And who put him in charge? Oh, yes—the mighty Caleb. That didn’t mean he had to stay in charge. Whatever Enosh could do to change that, he would.

  They finished two more walls and part of a third before Deborah came for them. The smell of fresh baked bread and the sound of popping wood in cooking fires drifted toward him from every house along the road back to Jedediah’s house.

  In the courtyard, the men took their places around a large mat spread near the fire. On the mat lay dried fruit, watered wine, and a towering pile of warm barley bread.

  Jedediah closed his eyes and held out his hands, palms up. “Yahweh, Creator of all, we thank You for this food, and for this new life You have given us. Thank You for new friends. May Your name be forever exalted.”

  Deborah passed the food around to the adults, then she handed the bowls to a group of children sitting in a circle behind them. Pointing at the tallest, she warned, “Make sure your siblings all get some, and make sure Eli eats something.”

  The boy nodded as he accepted the food and passed it to the others. “Thank you, Imma.”

&n
bsp; Enosh had noticed the children yesterday but didn’t know to whom they belonged. He counted quickly—seven children. “Are these children all yours, Jedediah?”

  “One is mine.” Joab spoke through a mouthful of barley bread. “The youngest.”

  That left six. Six? Who would want that much responsibility? A wife and children were not part of Enosh's plan right now. He had one goal, and children would only slow him down. “Six children. That must be difficult.”

  “Children are a gift from Yahweh,” Deborah answered.

  “I’m sure that’s true, but they must require a lot of time, and food, and clothing.” Enosh eyed the woman.

  “Only a man without children would say that.” She spoke as if she were scolding him. Obviously she spent too much time with all those children.

  Jedediah grinned. “Children can also be a great help in the fields, so it all works out in the end.”

  After the meal was over, the men headed for the center of town where Othniel waited. A slight breeze blew, and the sun shone brightly. It would have been a good day for battle.

  Othniel surveyed the group. “This morning I’m assigning plots of land. We’ll cast lots, as Joshua did when he assigned land to the twelve tribes. Yahweh will choose the land for each family, and His decision is final. Come with me to the fields and we’ll get started.”

  They followed him out the south gate. Below them long terraced rows hugged the hillside. The graduated steps allowed the land to capture every drop of water from either dew or rain. Enosh stayed toward the back of the group with Jedediah, Joab, and the other man who was staying with them, Natanael.

  “Any of you raised barley before?” Enosh looked at the others.

  Jedediah and Joab nodded.

  Natanael, the youngest of the four, shrugged. “I helped my abba, but I’ve never done it on my own. I married only the spring before last.”

  “Don’t worry. We’ll help. But mostly it’s up to Yahweh.” Joab patted Nathanael on the back.

  Nathanael turned to Enosh. “What about you?”