Prize of War

by Carole Towriss

  She wrapped an arm around Dania. “Come, sit.” They took their places on the mat, and Acsah looked for Rapha. “Where did he go?” She scanned the rooftop, but he had left.

  She scurried downstairs. He sat alone just outside the central room, not quite in the courtyard. He had a small bowl of stew and a couple pieces of bread. She stopped a few strides away. What was he thinking? She needed to know before she could get him to join them again. He didn’t look angry, lonely, or sad. Why had he left?

  She padded over to him and sat across from him. “Rapha?”

  He looked up. “You need me?”

  “Won’t you come join us?”

  He shook his head.

  “Why not?”

  He held up two fingers.

  What did that mean? “You promised you’d talk to me.”

  He pointed to her. “There are two of you”—he pointed upstairs—“and two of them.”

  Oh. “And only one of you?”

  He nodded.

  “And does that bother you, or do you think that bothers us?”

  “You.”

  She put her hand on his shoulder. “Rapha, that doesn’t bother us. We love you. We love having you with us. We like it even better when you talk to us.”

  One corner of his mouth tipped up.

  “I heard you talk to Siah.”

  “Some.” He almost laughed.

  “So will you come back up and eat with us?”

  He nodded.

  She raised a brow.

  “Yes.”

  She laughed. “Better.” She wove her arm through his until they reached the ladder, then climbed up before him.

  The men had already joined Dania around the mat by the time they returned. The full moon and warmer air of spring allowed the meal to last longer than it had in months.

  “I have something I need to talk to you about.” Othni ripped a piece of bread into bits.

  Acsah winced. He only did that when he was frustrated.

  “We know Enosh sent Gilad ahead to Debir to be his … spy, I guess you could call it, to gather information he could use to try to take over Debir, and also to try to come between Siah and me.”

  Dania’s face paled.

  “Today he came to me and said that Gilad has gone a step further. He believes that Gilad has, without Enosh’s advice or permission or knowledge, planned to do harm to Acsah.”

  Acsah’s breath caught. “Why would he do that?”

  “Doesn’t matter now. The question is, I don’t know if I should believe him or not.”

  Othni looked at Dania. “You know him better than anyone. Is this just another one of his schemes?”

  Her body tensed, and Siah reached for her hand. “He can do some amazingly horrible things, but I don’t believe he would ever hurt a woman, or allow harm to come to one if he could help it. He would probably do everything in his power to take this city from you, maybe even hurt you, but I don’t think he would let anyone hurt your wife. And yes, I think he would warn you if he thought someone else would. Even he has limits.”

  Othni dropped the bread and slapped his hands together. “Well, we cannot leave her alone then. But we all have work to do.”

  Siah nodded. “The harvest is most important, or we’ll have no raisins or wine for the entire year. One of us will have to be with them. Dania, too. Enosh might not hurt his sister, but we don’t know about Gilad. That’s all there is to it.”

  “Or me.”

  Every head turned to Rapha.

  “What?” Othni asked.

  “I can be with them.” He held Othni’s gaze.

  Acsah reached around his shoulder and hugged him. “Thank you, Rapha.”

  Othni grasped his shoulder. “Rapha, are you sure?”

  The young man’s face clouded. “I can do it.”

  “Rapha, I didn’t mean that. I have no doubt you are able to protect them. You are as big and strong as either of us. But you seem to be … you …” How did he say this without insulting him? “You don’t like it when people argue. You usually leave whenever anyone gets angry.”

  “Now it’s different. You are my family, and you need me.”

  Othni exchanged a long look with Siah, then turned his gaze back to Rapha. “Could you hurt Enosh or Gilad to protect Acsah? Or Dania? Will you, if necessary?”

  Rapha looked at Acsah, then at Dania. “Yes.”

  Acsah wrapped her arms around him and squeezed tight.

  Othni chuckled. “All right, then. One of us will be with them at all times. I have no idea what will happen, but I don’t think we can risk leaving them alone.”

  “Then let’s eat. I’m hungry.” Siah reached for a round of barley, but Acsah smacked his hand.

  “Aren’t you going to bless it first?”

  He made a face, but offered thanks for the food and the harvest.

  Othni ate enough to avoid any comments from Acsah, but he wasn’t hungry. If Dania believed Enosh had meant what he said, and it wasn’t just another of his tactics, then this was more serious than he had thought. They couldn’t stand guard over Acsah every moment of every day. All it would take would be one solitary instant alone, and he could carry her off.

  The giants he knew how to protect her against.

  How did he protect her against this?

  Acsah awoke to Othni’s hand upon her swollen belly, his face nestled into her neck. She smiled. This was nice.

  Many things were nice now, much better than before. They had Rapha to help. The grape harvest was just beginning. A year ago at this time, she was celebrating her wedding feast in Hebron. She wanted for nothing, worried about nothing.

  Now someone wanted to hurt her. And Othni had to be with her every third day.

  But not today. She sighed. Too bad. But they’d spent all yesterday together. She rolled over to face him and kissed him awake.

  He returned her kiss, laughing, trapping her underneath him, at least as best he could considering her belly came between them. His kisses moved to her neck. She might not have him all day, but she had him this morning.

  With a mouthful of grapes, Othni moved along the ground, cutting the clusters of ripe purple fruit from the vines and placing them into the basket beside him.

  “What do you suppose is taking so long in Anab?” Siah placed several clusters in the same basket.

  “I don’t know. One of the captains sent back a message saying some of the men of Anab weren’t cooperating. They end up working against each other. But for now the giants haven’t done any more damage, so they’re still trying to work it out. Much longer though, and my men will come back home.”

  “I don’t blame them.” Siah moved on to another row of vines, if you could call them rows. The vines grew wherever they wanted.

  Othni glanced at Acsah sitting on the low vineyard wall, picking the grapes apart so they could be dried in the sun and turned into raisins. He grabbed his wide basket and walked over to her, then dumped his clusters into one of her baskets.

  “If you don't quit eating them, we won’t have any left to make raisins from.” He sat next to her, wrapping his arms around her waist—such as it was—and pulling her into his chest.

  “Very funny. I have half a basket full.”

  “And everyone else has a full basket.”

  “No one else has a belly in their way.” She popped another grape in her mouth and looked over her shoulder at him.

  “Good point.”He ran the backs of his fingers over her cheek. “Are you all right? You're very flushed.”

  “Just hot.”

  “Maybe you should rest. Or go inside. In the shade.”

  “I’ll be all right. I'm going slow, as you’ve been so kind to—” she stared over his shoulder. “Othni? Who are they?” She pointed at a column of people in the distance, shuffling along the road south of Debir.

  He stood and stared at the line of dust being kicked up.

  “Are they coming here?”

  “I don't know, but I'm g
oing to find out.”

  This number of people would increase Debir’s population by almost half. Where could they be coming from?

  A sickening feeling washed over him.

  Anab.

  Had the Anakim taken the city? If Anab had sent its women and children to Debir, things had become very bad.

  Yahweh, please protect the people of Anab, both those here and those still at home trying to save their homes.

  But perhaps he was getting ahead of himself. Maybe they were on their way to somewhere else. Hebron?

  Doubtful.

  Othni sprinted up the terraces, through Debir and out the south gate, then down the hillside. He ran down the road to meet the people trudging toward him. Mostly women and children, the haggard and exhausted people carried small packs and bags, bundles of clothing. Mothers carried babies, and older children led younger siblings, who appeared too tired to cry. “Are you from Anab?”

  An older man, wiry with silver hair, came to the front. He nodded. “I’m Jephthah. I’m the shophet.”

  Othni dreaded the answer to his next question. “Has Anab been attacked?”

  “The Anakim come every few days, destroy a few more trees.” He gestured to the line of people behind him. “We hoped you would help us keep them safe. Your wife said you had plenty of room.”

  She did? “Follow me.” He led them to the city center, where they were met by Acsah and several of the elders. “Most of the southwest quarter is still unoccupied. Although the houses are not completely repaired, they are habitable. You are welcome to stay there if you wish to stay together, or I’m sure many of my people will be happy to take you in if you prefer.”

  “That is very generous. I don’t know how we can thank you.” Jephthah said.

  “Yahweh will provide for all of us. This is my brother, Seraiah.” He pulled Siah near. “He and the others will take you to the southwest area of the city and help you settle there, and anyone who desires can go with another family. Then we will help get you fed.”

  Siah and the elders led the people of Anab away, and Othni turned to Acsah. “Why do they think you told them we have plenty of space and food to feed them all?”

  “I don’t— Oh …” her face paled. “It must have been what I said to Esau.”

  “Esau?”

  “The messenger who came to ask you to go fight with them.”

  “What did you say?”

  “He was worried about losing all their grapes. I said we may not have extra grapes, but we would have lots of olives.” She cringed. “And I mentioned that we have more space than people, and extra grain … And I told them if there was anything else they needed, they should come back.”

  Panic set in, for a brief moment. But he couldn’t let her know that. He forced a smile and pulled her close. “That's one of the reasons I love you.”

  How was he supposed to care for several hundred extra people? They had extra grain, but how long could that last?

  Yahweh will provide.

  “You must promise me you will not try to take care of all these people by yourself. I just told you, you look flushed and tired.”

  “I’m carrying your child. Of course I'm flushed and tired. Now, we need that grain we stored. We need places for people to stay. We need—” She began counting off fingers.

  “All right, let's get you inside. You can cool off and start making plans, and I’ll send some of the women in to help you.”

  With Acsah safely in the shade with Simona and Dania, happily making plans, Othni returned to the vineyard. He could think best when his hands were busy.

  Debir’s population had just increased by a third.

  There may not be enough food for everyone.

  The Anakim had returned to Anab. Would they come here next?

  Gilad might still be out there, planning to take Acsah somewhere, sometime.

  And he still didn’t know if he could trust Enosh.

  Chapter 17

  “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous! Do not tremble or be dismayed, for the LORD your God is with you wherever you go."

  Joshua 1.9

  To Acsah’s dismay, Simona had insisted no one from Anab stay with them, since the baby was almost due.

  Othni backed up Simona.

  But neither of them could keep her from visiting them.

  Most chose to stay in the southwest quarter, even though they were squashed together like yarn in a rug. She couldn’t blame them. They had only each other. They’d left everything else back in Anab. At least when she moved here she’d brought a cartload of her belongings.

  Within a few days, she had the new residents settled in. A system had been devised to distribute the stored barley, and the women had helped harvest the remaining ripe grapes and turn them into raisins.

  That evening, Dania carried the food up and down the ladder so Acsah would only have to climb up once to eat. Piles of warm barley bread. Lentil stew. Fresh grapes.

  Acsah grabbed a pitcher from the broadroom and filled it half full of some of last year’s wine. Kneeling at the cistern for water, she remembered the skins she’d left earlier on the vineyard’s stone wall when she’d taken Othni and Siah water.

  She handed the pitcher to Othni. “If I don’t get them now, you won’t have water tomorrow.”

  “I’ll get them.”

  “No, you just returned. Sit, rest a moment and wash before we eat. I’ll get them.”

  He eyed her cautiously. “You’ll take Rapha?”

  “Of course.”

  “You’ll hurry back?”

  “Yes, Abba.”

  “Not funny.” He frowned.

  “There’s nothing to worry about. It’s been since before the last full moon, and nothing has happened. Gilad’s not going to do anything. We’ll be careful.”

  “Stay near Rapha.”

  “Yes … ahuvi.”

  “Better.”

  “Are you sure you’re not mad? About the people from Anab?”

  “I told you last night. It’s all right.”

  “You’ve just been very quiet.”

  “There’s a lot to think about, a lot to do. But I’m not upset.”

  She kissed his cheek, and left with Rapha.

  “Wait, I’ll walk with you.” Dania rushed to catch up.

  They reached the vineyard quickly.

  “I’ll get some grape leaves.” Dania knelt by the vines while Acsah looked for the skins.

  She quickly found four, but where was the fifth? She moved toward the wall. There, it had fallen off the edge. She leaned over, reaching down to retrieve it.

  “Here, let me.” Dania jumped over the wall.

  On the way back to the gate, she knelt for the leaves. After picking several of the largest, she rose, and her blood ran cold.

  Gilad.

  “No! You go. You cannot be here.” Rapha stationed himself between Acsah and Gilad—and another man.

  Two against one. This wasn’t good.

  She wanted to run, but her feet were stuck to the ground. She should scream, but her voice wouldn’t cooperate. She looked for Dania, and found her crouching behind the wall.

  Excellent. If they didn’t see her, she might escape to get help.

  How long had he waited for this moment? Waited until they were with Rapha?

  Gilad sidestepped Rapha. He pulled a piece of straw from his mouth. “Acsah, you keep getting in the way.”

  “In the way of what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “In the way of our plans. I need to remove you. At least for a while.”

  Rapha moved to stand between Gilad and the women once again, but Gilad ignored him.

  “You must leave.” Rapha held his ground.

  They had underestimated him. As everyone did.

  “Get out of my way. This is not your concern.” The man practically growled at Rapha.

  “This is my family.” Rapha refused to move.

  Oh, sweet boy. What will h
e do to you?

  Gilad's fist seemed to come from nowhere, hard into Rapha’s face. Rapha returned the blow, catching Gilad high on his cheek. Gilad swung again with his left hand. Rapha stumbled but stayed upright. He lowered his shoulder and rammed into Gilad. For now, the other man stayed just off to the side.

  Clearly taken off guard, Gilad landed on his backside. He glanced around, grabbed a piece of fallen acacia wood, then jumped to his feet. He swung the makeshift weapon over his shoulder then back at Rapha, clubbing him on the upper arm and knocking him down.

  “Stop!” Acsah started to go to him, but the other man held her back. Her throat burned with unshed tears.

  Rapha got to his hands and knees quickly, chest heaving, his head nearly touching the sandy desert floor.

  “Stay down. I warned you.” Gilad's guttural voice sent shivers down Acsah’s spine.

  She looked for Dania again, but she was gone.

  Enosh held his partridges by the feet as he trudged toward Debir—that name still rankled him. Two this time. He would never be as expert a bowman as Othniel, or his brother for that matter. But the practice he’d put in these last few months had paid off. If he could hit a small bird, racing across the sands, he should be able to shoot an enemy.

  If he decided to join the fighting in the north, he would have one more weapon at his disposal.

  He heard the commotion before he saw it. Someone in the vineyards was involved in some sort of fight—an unfair one by the looks of it.

  It was fine to have a great size advantage in a war, but in a fistfight? And two against one? That was just shameful. Cowardly.

  As he drew closer, the forms came into clearer focus.

  The man doing the most damage, the leader was Gilad. And he was terrorizing that servant of Othniel and oh, no … Acsah.

  The air in Enosh’s chest stilled. What had he done?

  Apparently Gilad had hired someone to help him do exactly what Enosh had forbade him to do.

  What should he do next?

  What was Gilad planning? What had he had said? He could ‘hide her away’ for a while, just until Enosh took command.