Prize of War

by Carole Towriss

  “How long was I asleep?”

  “You were injured two days ago.”

  He’d missed a lot. “I’m sorry. I’m not much of a commander, I guess.”

  “On the contrary. Your men knew exactly what to do without you. You trained and informed them well. That’s what a good commander should do. Not hold power so tightly he is indispensable.”

  Not what he would expect Enosh to say. “What smells so good?”

  “The men of Anab slaughtered some goats last night and some lambs today.”

  “Really? They lost livestock and they still slaughtered what they had left for us?”

  He smiled. “They’re very grateful.”

  “Apparently.”

  He slurped the last of the broth. “So we’re leaving day after tomorrow?”

  The woman brought him bread to sop up the last of the liquid.

  “They are. Not you.”

  He whipped his head up. “Why not?”

  Enosh laughed. “You can’t even stand up.”

  “Of course I can.” He could barely sit without help, but he wasn’t about to admit that. Especially not to Enosh. He might allow him to take part in the battle, but he was not going to admit weakness to the man that had spent the better part of a year trying to take Debir away from him. There was still some part of him that didn’t completely trust Enosh.

  “I’ll stay with you. Another few days and you’ll be fine.”

  “You don’t have to stay. I can find my own way back home.” He wasn’t a child.

  Enosh looked away. “I don’t have anywhere else to go.” He finished his bowl of meat and set it aside.

  Othni grabbed a date from a nearby bowl and broke it in two. He ate one half, and ripped the other half in pieces. “You said Siah was rebuilding the well. How did he get away from the Anak?”

  “We got him.” He eyed Othni a moment, then grabbed his bowl as he rose. “I’ll get you some more.”

  We? That probably meant Enosh.

  Siah was safe, but only because Enosh was there.

  Othni had obeyed Yahweh, had come to Anab to fight, but that meant leaving Acsah.

  Did making the right choice always feel so bad?

  Enosh returned. “You were talking in your sleep.”

  “I was?”

  “You kept talking about a baby. Was that the boy you were trying to get to out there?”

  He nodded. Enosh didn’t need to know he’d been having nightmares about Acsah and the baby. Had she had the baby yet? Was she all right? Or had he lost them both?

  “Two more days, right?” Acsah hoped she hadn’t miscounted.

  Dania nodded. “Day after tomorrow you can wash and your baby here will be ready to meet the world. Does he have a name yet?”

  “I'm still thinking. I’ll tell you at the ceremony. Any news from Anab?”

  “I'm sorry, no. But surely we’d have heard if there were bad news, right?” Dania’s eyes begged for reassurance.

  “Of course. They must be all right.” She forced her brightest smile.

  Dania’s face lit up.

  At least one of them was confident.

  Othni’s stomach clenched when Siah sauntered Dinah’s courtyard. He could still barely face him.

  “You’re looking much better.” He grinned. “I would suggest a new tunic before Acsah sees you, however.”

  Othni glanced at his clothes, covered in scarlet. “Good idea.”

  “Everyone is going back today. I thought I would stay with you.”

  “No!” He hadn’t meant to shout.

  “No? Why?”

  “I need you to be with Acsah. Let her know I’m coming soon.”

  “Anyone can tell her that.”

  “She won’t believe just anyone.”

  Siah pondered the request. “If that’s what you want, I’ll do it.”

  “It is.”

  “Othni.”

  “What?”

  He knelt to face Othni on his level. “Why won’t you look at me? Have I done something wrong?”

  “You? Of course not.” He shifted uncomfortably.

  “Then what?”

  “It’s me.”

  “What could you have done?”

  His eyes finally met Siah’s. “Didn’t Enosh tell you?”

  “Tell me what?”

  “How I was injured.”

  “Saving a child?”

  “I chose to save that child instead of you.”

  Siah was silent a moment. “I'm sure you had your reasons.”

  “My reasons?”

  Siah shrugged and nodded. “What were they?”

  “You were so far away, and there were so many people in the way, I didn’t think I could load an arrow and hit the Anak accurately and in time, but I knew I could reach the boy.”

  “Sounds like you had no choice.”

  Othni’s stomach ached. “I chose not to save my own brother,” he whispered.

  “No, you didn’t. You didn’t have that choice. You saved the only life you could have. And Enosh saved the one he could have. I don’t know why Yahweh did it that way, but he did.” He stood. “I’ll see you at home?”

  Othni nodded.

  It was a strange way of doing things, but maybe Yahweh had a reason. Maybe Enosh needed to save a life for once. Maybe he needed to save Siah’s in particular.

  He might never know. The important thing was, Siah was alive. They were all alive.

  “They’re back! They’re back!”

  The shouts of an older boy, one of Jedediah’s no doubt, carried all the way to Acsah’s house. She placed the newborn in the center of her sleeping mat, and slowly, painfully rose. She stepped to the door.

  Chewing her lip, she glanced at the ring road. She wasn’t allowed out there. She could only see directly in front of their house. Was Othni coming home? Her stomach knotted.

  Rapha and Dania appeared in the courtyard. She called to them.

  Dania turned, searching for the voice that had called her name.

  “Are the men back from Anab?”

  “It looks like it. I’m sure Othni is among them. He’ll be home any moment.” She flashed one of her grins, and then headed for the south gate.

  Acsah paced as she waited, peeking at her son now and then, though he’d just eaten and should sleep for a while. After what seemed like days, Dania, Siah and Rapha pushed open the courtyard gate. Without Othni. She grabbed the doorframe hard enough to turn her knuckles white.

  “Dania!”

  She glanced at her, pursing her lips.

  What was that look? Was Othni not coming back at all? Had something happened to him?

  Dania neared her. “Acsah, please sit down. You need to rest.”

  “Where’s Othni? Is he coming back?”

  “Sit down and I’ll tell you.”

  Heart pounding, she lowered herself to the mat.

  “He was wounded.”

  She gasped as pain sliced through her. “How bad is it?”

  Dania told her what the men had relayed to them. “He’s staying another day or two, and when he’s stronger, they’ll come back.”

  “They?”

  She shrugged. “Someone stayed back with him.”

  Her fingers and feet stiffened as her blood ran cold. They said he wouldn’t die, but…

  Dania smiled. “Acsah, they said he would be back in a day or two. You mustn’t worry so much. Let me get you something to eat.” Dania stepped out and returned with a bowl of stew and some bread. She set it before Acsah. “You finish that and rest, all right? I’ll be back later.”

  Her son slept beside her peacefully, unaware of her fear and pain, doubt and insecurity. She ignored the food and held him close, rocking him gently.

  Tears welled up. “Yahweh, forgive me. Forgive me for not trusting you. You told Moses You would always be with us. You told Joshua You would always be near. And yet I insisted You give me someone else instead.”

  She laid the baby down and
tried to slow her sobs. “Abba told me that when the Egyptians came after us, You told Moses, ‘Do not be afraid. The Lord will fight for you. You need only to be still.’ I want to be still. I don’t want to be afraid. Help me to remember I am never alone.”

  She wept until her tears and her energy were spent. Finally calmed, she lay beside her son and hugged him close until she slipped into the silence of sleep.

  Othni leaned back against the wall, his arm and leg still throbbing with dull pain.

  Dinah approached with a bowl of water and a stack of cloths. “May I dress your wounds?”

  He nodded. “Thank you.”

  She cut the knots securing the bandages and then tucked her knife back into her cloth belt. Gently unwinding the fabric, she dripped water on his skin when the dried blood proved sticky. She tossed the bloodied strips into the fire.

  She threw a sideways glance at Enosh snoring beside him. “He’s barely left your side since you were injured.”

  The words hit him oddly. “Really?”

  “Why is that strange? He’s your friend, isn’t he?” She pressed her fingers around the cuts, making him wince. “I’m going to get some honey. I don’t want you to get the fever.” She stepped into her back room.

  Placing his hand over the wound, he checked his thigh. No heat emanated from it. He shuddered, remembering the battle for Debir. In war, fever killed more men than the injuries themselves.

  He ran his fingers around the cut in his bicep. It seemed much less deep than that in his leg, probably due to the scarring after the burn.

  He sat back and regarded Enosh. A friend? What changes a year could bring.

  Dinah returned and spread honey on his wounds then rewrapped them. Children ran and played in the yard, chasing each other and laughing as they ran from this house to the next. They must have returned from Debir while he slept. She peeked at him from under her lashes. “If they are too noisy, I can make them play somewhere else.”

  He smiled. “Of course not. I enjoy watching them.”

  “The women are busy preparing for a wedding down the street. All the children have ended up here.”

  Last summer he sat in Caleb’s courtyard at his own wedding. Children giggled and played, squealed and ran that day, too. As he waited for sundown, waited to take Acsah as his bride, Joshua sat next to him, gave him some advice. What was it he said?

  Yahweh gave us His law to guide us. Be must be certain every decision you make lines up with His law in every aspect. Never compromise.

  He’d tried to do that, tried to follow Yahweh’s law every step of the way. Half the time, no matter what he did, someone didn’t like it. But he made the best decisions he could anyway.

  Dinah finished changing his bandages and gathered her supplies. “Can I bring you anything to eat?”

  “No, thank you. You’ve been very kind.”

  She strolled out to the courtyard among the children.

  Four years ago, he had a choice. He hesitated, and Caleb had been badly injured. It turned out there was no right or wrong choice, but he’d not learned that lesson because he’d run, and hadn’t returned for four years.

  Maybe not everyone would be happy with him at all times. But as long as he obeyed Yahweh, followed Joshua’s advice, that was all he could do, all anyone could expect of him.

  Her week of unclean days was over. Today she could wash up, leave this room, and see everyone again. And introduce her son.

  Acsah kissed his head. Not such a great day for him though. She winced as she thought of what lay ahead for him. Hopefully Othni would be home in time to do it himself. If not … the law said it had to be done on the eighth day whether or not his abba was here.

  She rose as Dania entered the room.

  “Ready?”

  “More than ready.” She handed the babe to Dania and stood.

  Dania tucked the clean tunic she had brought under her arm before taking the infant. She babbled to the babe as she led Acsah out of the courtyard and out of the south gate to the well. “Are you all right? Do you want to hold on to me?”

  Acsah picked her way down the slope, desert grasses all around her. “I’m fine. It’s nice to be walking, actually. I’m tired of being trapped in that room.”

  Dania laughed. At the well, she settled the infant in the warm sand. After handing Acsah a cloth, she drew a bucket of water.

  Acsah removed her clothing and washed as Dania poured water over her. The cool water flowed over her stiff, sore muscles. Bucket after bucket washed away the tension the long, difficult night of birth and the past week had built up.

  The sun dried her skin quickly, and Dania helped her slip on the fresh tunic. She frowned. Her old sashes still didn’t fit around her still swollen middle. How could that much baby come out and still leave her belly so big?

  Dania rolled up the soiled tunic in a clean towel and handed it to Acsah, then scooped up the babe. “There’s a surprise for you at home,” she cooed.

  “A surprise? For him or for me?”

  “Both of you.” She smirked and headed back to the city.

  Good thing Dania had him. Acsah needed both hands to hold up her tunic and keep her balance walking up hill. Once inside the gate she could breathe, and walk, easier.

  They turned into the courtyard. She gasped, her heart skipping a beat. Was that … had he really come? “Abba!” She raced—as much as possible with her still sore body—to greet him, throwing her arms around his neck.

  His familiar bright smile on his face, he spread his arms wide. “Acsah!” He embraced her, lifting her off the ground.

  “Oh, I’m so glad you came. I had no idea you were coming.” Tears, for once happy ones, slid down her cheeks.

  He set her on her feet. “You didn’t think I would miss this, did you?”

  “I didn’t even know you knew he had been born. He was so early.”

  Dania slipped the child into his arms. “We sent a couple of the men to Hebron to tell him about the battle and the baby.”

  “Guess which one I cared about most?” He laughed as he studied her son’s face. Loosening his wraps, he checked his fingers and toes while the child squirmed.

  Acsah’s heart soared as she watched her abba hold his grandson. His face beamed with a joy she had never seen.

  “Where is Othniel?”

  Her heart fell. “He has not yet returned,” she whispered.

  “Gideon said he was injured. He’ll be back.” He spoke without looking up. “Today, certainly. He will not miss his son’s circumcision.”

  She looked away. All the joy of a moment ago had been chased away in a heartbeat. “We’ll wait as long as we can, but then we’ll have to go ahead without him.”

  Enosh glanced at his commander as he walked beside him. He pulled out some of the flatbread Dinah had sent with them and offered a piece to Othniel. She’d insisted on sending food with them, delaying their departure by half a day. Not that Othniel had awakened much before that. He was still much weaker than he would admit, and he walked slowly, cautiously.

  Enosh enjoyed the silence after battling giants. Now to figure out what came next. There weren’t many options. Hebron. Or Anab. They looked like they could use some help for a while. Jephthah had asked him to stay.

  Othniel stumbled, and Enosh grabbed his arm and helped steady him.

  “Was there any reason we couldn’t have waited another day? You really should have rested longer.”

  “I have to be back today.”

  He blew out a harsh breath. “Why? What is so important it can’t possibly wait another day or two?”

  The muscles in the commander’s jaw twitched. Fine. If whatever it was, was that important—

  “My son was born eight days ago.”

  His son? “You have a son? When did you find this out?”

  “When the people from Anab came back.”

  He reached for Othniel’s gear. “Why don’t you let me carry your pack and quiver?”

  Othniel fro
wned but relented. “Thank you. And thank you for staying with me. You didn’t have to do that.”

  “I felt I did. After all I have done to you and your family, I could at least do that much.” He grinned. “And how could I return to Anab without being able to say I knew for certain you arrived home safely? Jephthah would be satisfied with nothing less.”

  “You’re returning to Anab?”

  “I have nowhere else to go.”

  “You’ll at least stop and see Dania?”

  His heart panged. “It’s best I just turn around and go back.” He glanced at the sun. “There’s plenty of time for me to do that. The days are long this time of year.”

  “I think if—”

  “No.”

  He would not cause her or anyone else any more pain just to make himself feel better.

  Time to move on.

  Acsah glanced west. The sun was sinking. They would soon have to complete the ceremony, with or without Othni.

  Simona, Eilah, and Dania had prepared mountains of food—stacks of bread, dates, grapes, raisin cakes, stew—and a lamb had been roasting all day.

  Caleb pulled her aside. “I heard what you did.”

  She frowned. “What I did?”

  “With your bracelets.”

  Oh, no. How did he find out? Would he be angry? “I’m sorry I sold your gift. But we had no food—”

  “Acsah, don’t worry. I am not angry. You have given of yourself to build Israel. It’s nothing less than I would expect from you.”

  Her heart swelled. “Thank you, Abba.”

  Acsah touched his shoulder. “If he doesn’t get back in time, will you do it?”

  “Of course, motek. But what if we just go to the gate and look down the road? We could even send someone on a donkey just a bit toward Anab to see if there are any travelers close enough make it by nightfall.”

  “Just us first.”

  He nodded and took her hand. They headed down the ring road, every step harder than the last. Her feet felt like rocks. If he wasn’t there, what did that mean? Was he too seriously injured to travel? Or worse? Should she send Abba tomorrow? Questions came faster than answers.

  They reached the south gate. She stopped, unable to bring herself to step through and look toward Anab.