Prize of War

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by Carole Towriss


  Abba, a pace ahead, turned back, puzzled.

  She hugged her middle. “You look.”

  He nodded and marched to the other side of the chambered gate. Faced west. Grinned. Beckoned her.

  Her heart raced. Was he really coming? She willed herself to move.

  Two figures appeared down the road. She recognized instantly Othni’s form, though he moved slowly, deliberately. But who was with him? The others had said someone remained behind with him. Didn’t matter. She only cared about Othni.

  Her mouth went dry as she waited. His head was down as he appeared to concentrate on each step. Closer and closer he came …

  Thirty strides … Twenty …

  She glanced back toward town. Siah and Dania strolled toward them, smiles wide, her son in her arms. They must have been watching and assumed Othni was near.

  She turned back to the road. Othni had stopped.

  Why wasn’t he moving? Was he waiting for her?

  Abba nudged her forward.

  She took a few steps and waited as he came closer, then took a few more.

  He closed the distance between them quickly, dropped his bow, and gathered her into his arms, burying his face in her neck. “I missed you so much.”

  The warmth of him next to her overshadowed all else. No one else mattered. He had returned to her. His arms held her so close she could barely move, his breath was hot on her neck, his scent surrounded her.

  On her toes, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “You’re back. You’re safe.” Her tears streamed down her face and onto his neck. She pulled back and placed her hands on his cheeks. “I love you.”

  He greeted her with a long kiss. He looked over her shoulder. “Is that my son?”

  She took the babe from Dania and placed him in Othni’s arms, arranging him just so. “Here, put this arm under here, his head here …”

  All the pain and fear vanished as she watched him whisper to his son, his face beaming.

  He pulled her close with one arm. “He’s beautiful, ahuvati.” He looked down at the baby again. “May you grow strong and tall.” He looked up at her. “Did you name him yet?”

  “Hathath,” she said. “We’ll call him Hathi.”

  His jaw dropped. “Hathath? Why would you name him that?”

  “Because it was in my terror that I truly learned that I am never alone. And because he will be a terror to the enemies of Yahweh. Like his abba.”

  His eyes twinkled. “All right. Hathi, my son. My beautiful son.”

  Acsah nudged him, and tilted her head toward Enosh. “He stayed with you?”

  He nodded. “The whole time.”

  She turned to face everyone, and looked specifically at Enosh. “I’m going to my house, with my husband and my son, for his circumcision and a feast. Anyone who wants can join us.”

  She took Othni by the arm, and together they strolled into town. Once in the yard, she held Hathi while Othni washed before the ceremony. She snatched a couple of raisin cakes and offered them to Abba and Enosh as they waited on the wall. “Don’t tell Simona.” Giggling, she sat next to Abba.

  Enosh picked a raisin from the cake and ate it, keeping an eye on Siah and Dania. "I think I have something I need to do.” He set his cake aside and headed toward his sister.

  Dania stiffened.

  Acsah couldn’t hear the conversation, but after a few moments, Dania threw her arms around Enosh. A huge smile took over Siah’s face.

  Enosh returned to the wall and picked up his cake.

  She leaned near. “Did you just do what I think you did?”

  He smiled. “Depends. What do you think I did?”

  She laughed.

  Othni limped out of the house toward her, kissed her cheek, and took Hathi. As he consecrated his son, Acsah thanked Yahweh for the last year. She was the wife of a shophet, the wife of a warrior. There would likely be more difficult times ahead, times when he would be called upon to defend Debir or even some other city. Times when he would be away, maybe far away. Times when she would have to face her own battles at home.

  But Yahweh would always be with her. And even though she might be by herself, she would never be alone.

  Author’s Note

  I’ve been fascinated with Acsah for a long time. I don’t know of anyone else who has her story told twice in Scripture, almost word for word. I figured there had to be a reason God gave it to us two times, something he wanted us to learn.

  Commentators are divided on their opinion of this intriguing woman. Some believe her to be a spoiled brat who should have trusted her father Caleb—one of only two of twelve spies to believe God would help them conquer the giants. Others thought she was a woman who knew what she wanted and needed and was bold enough to ask her father for it, an example for us to follow in prayer.

  In the Hebrew, she actually demands her father give her those wells. Personally, I needed a good reason for her to want that water so desperately. There was also the issue of her father giving her away as a “prize.” All these things came together to make Acsah a complicated, but endearing character.

  I probably spend more time researching than I do writing. If you have any questions about anything in this story, check my blog. I’ll likely address it there if I haven’t already. It not, please feel free to ask.

  If you liked Prize of war…

  would you mind leaving a review?

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  It doesn’t have to be long

  —just a few words will do.

  Thanks!

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  Acknowledgments

  The people who give my life meaning: my husband John, and my children, Emma, Mira, Dara, and Johnny. Thank you for your patience, again.

  Roseanna White Designs, for bringing Acsah and Othniel to life.

  My launch team, Carole’s Crew.

  Bethany, of Lost and Found Horse Rescue in Germantown, Maryland, who taught me everything I know, but certainly not everything she knows, about the amazingly loyal and gentle donkey. Any misinformation in this novel is mine.

  The DC Archery Club at Lake Needwood, Maryland.

  Dr Ann Jobin, for her expertise on ancient treatment of 2nd-degree burns.

  My faithful beta readers—Lynn Rose, who read this more than once, and Ceenu Jebaraj.

  My editor, Robin Patchen.

  And you, dear reader, for your time. I know it’s valuable and I thank you for spending some of it with my characters.

  Learn even more about these characters and their world, as well as the stories to come, at caroletowriss.com.

  About the Author

  An unapologetic Californian, Carole Towriss now lives just north of Washington, DC. She loves her husband, her four children, the beach, and tacos, though not always in that order. In addition to writing, she binge-watches British crime dramas and does the dishes for the fourth time in one day.

  For more information:

  caroletowriss.com

  [email protected]

  Also by Carole Towriss

  Biblical Fiction

  By the Shadow of Sinai

  By the Waters of Kadesh

  The Walls of Arad

  Contemporary Romance

  Just Until Christmas

  The Other Brother

  A Different Kind of Christmas,

  part of the “Winter’s Kiss” collection

 

 

 


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