Prize of War Read online

  Or the notch in the wood of the wild olive tree he envisioned as Enosh's chest. He loaded another arrow.

  “What are you doing?” Salmah’s voice came from over his right shoulder.

  “He picked him.”

  “Who picked whom?”

  “Caleb picked the other man.”

  “Again, who?”

  “Enosh ben Terah. The one with the smirk and eyes for Acsah.” He let the arrow fly.

  “Oh. I’ve heard of him. Quite the charmer, I understand.”

  “Well, he’s certainly charmed Caleb. And Acsah.”

  “I wouldn’t be too sure of that.”

  Othni spun to face Salmah. “He chose him, didn’t he?”

  Salmah folded his arms across his chest. “What plan did he offer?”

  Othni scoffed. “A siege. A ridiculous, drawn-out siege.”

  Salmah shrugged. “Maybe Caleb wants to try to minimize bloodshed first. It’s been a long fight.”

  “All I know is, he’ll be the one marrying Acsah. They’re up there right now on Caleb’s roof, eating and making plans.” His chest ached so much he could barely breathe, as if a giant Anak had a hand around his heart.

  “Caleb is not a foolish man. I have served under him for these last seven years, and he knows what he’s doing. If he chose Enosh to attack Kiriath-Sepher and to marry his daughter, he had a reason.”

  “Yes, and that reason is he still doesn’t trust me!” Othni slammed down his bow, ran his fingers through his hair. “He will never forgive me for that one mistake. All this fighting, proving myself, and did he talk to even one of my commanders to see if I ever did the same thing again? No!”

  “You don’t know that.”

  He didn’t know that, not for sure. Still … “He couldn’t have, or he wouldn’t be doing this.”

  Salmah grasped his shoulders. “Othni, you know your uncle well enough to know he wouldn’t do anything without talking to Yahweh first.”

  Othni grabbed his bow and stormed away. He didn’t want to hear any of Salmah’s explanations. Didn’t want to think about a successful siege. Didn’t want to think about Enosh conquering Kiriath-Sepher.

  But he had to. Whether he thought so or not, evidently Caleb considered the plan a worthy one. And now it was time for Othni to fall in line and obey.

  Acsah placed bowls of almonds, dried dates, and goat cheese on the mat next to a bowl of bread, then sat across from Abba.

  Aunt Leah followed with pitchers of watered wine and sat on her left.

  On her right, Enosh reached for the bread and tore off a large chunk, the muscles on his arms rippling as he moved. He gobbled the bite then grabbed a handful of dates from the bowl. He tossed them in his mouth while he and Abba discussed which of the men would make the best captains, spitting the pits into his hand. When he laughed, his tunic stretched tight against his chest. Names were suggested, discussed, rejected, praised, and sullied, and in the end little was settled. Enosh snatched the last of the dates and handed Acsah the bowl without looking at her.

  Glancing sideways at Leah, she rose. “I’ll get some more.” When she reached the stairs, she looked back to find him eyeing her and shivered. She walked down to the broadroom that formed part of the double wall that had encircled Hebron since long before the wars. Not quite half was reserved for the women, for those times they were ritually impure and had to remain separate from the men. The other half was a storage room filled with jars full of grains, dried fruits, implements and cookware. On the far wall stood a long table on which to work. Running her fingers over the pottery jars lined up on the shelves, she searched for the one she desired. Or more accurately, for the one Enosh had demanded. Wheat, barley, raisins … There it was. Dates. She took the jar down and opened it.

  As the wrinkly brown fruit tumbled into the bowl, her mind wandered. What would it be like to live with him? Would he allow her to continue to help the widows? Or anyone else? Or would he demand she stay at home all day and wait on him? He was handsome, to be sure, but he hadn’t yet spoken to her during the meal. Obviously he and Abba had important things to discuss, but it would be nice if he at least glanced her way once or twice. She replaced the top on the jar and headed back up, then took her seat.

  “Caleb, will you be joining us?” Enosh snapped up more dates from the freshly filled bowl.

  Abba smiled at her. “Not yet. You’ll do fine without me. I think I’ll remain here with Acsah a while.”

  “Wise, since she will soon be leaving you.” He aimed a smirk her way.

  Abba swallowed the last of his bread. “The moon will be full in three days. I will give you until the full moon after that to bring Kiriath-Sepher to its knees. I do not wish a long siege. Clear?”

  Enosh cocked his head. “It won’t take even that long. I have it all planned out.”

  “Salmah will go with you. Although you are the commander, he will be my representative there. Anything he says should be considered as coming from me.”

  Enosh raised his brows.

  “Is that a problem?”

  Enosh smiled slyly but shook his head. He turned to her. “So, Acsah, after I return, victorious, how soon will you marry me?”

  Her cheeks heated, and she looked away. Even though she was promised to him, his attitude was unnerving.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll give you plenty of time.” He grinned. “At least a few days.”

  Acsah grasped Leah’s hand.

  Enosh stood and addressed Abba. “I’ll be at the gate. I’ll meet you there.” He bounded down the stairs.

  Not even a glance, let alone a ‘thank you.’ Acsah sucked in a deep breath. It wasn’t that he needed to talk to her. She knew many women who didn’t even eat with their husbands. Perhaps Abba had simply spoiled her. But the way Enosh looked at her…

  Yahweh, if he is the man You have chosen for me, please give me patience and teach me to love him.

  If Abba had chosen Othni, she might have been able to reconcile herself to being given away as a prize. But this … Enosh … How was she supposed to live with a man who never even looked at her?

  Surely he would never let her spend his money as freely as she did Abba’s.

  Would Enosh allow her to, as her abba once put it, patrol the streets of Hebron, searching for the sick, the widowed, and the poor to care for?

  Doubtful.

  Her imma would have been so disappointed.

  “He’s older than you are. He’ll be better able to command the men.” Caleb’s words pummeled Othni’s brain with every step along the road to Kiriath-Sepher. They pierced his heart surer than a blade.

  He shoved his despair to the deepest part of his mind. Now was not the time to mourn over what might have been. He needed to focus on the task at hand. He could mope over losing Acsah after Kiriath-Sepher belonged to Israel, and the giants had been defeated.

  He trudged on. Shimmering waves of heat rose from the sands surrounding them. He pulled at his tunic, damp from sweat.

  His brother caught up to him, dropping a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry Uncle Caleb chose the other man. I know you’re disappointed.”

  Disappointed? That didn’t begin to cover it. Devastated. Shattered. Destroyed. Everything he’d done for the last four years to prove himself had been wasted.

  “I’m sure you’ll find someone else.”

  Seraiah meant well, but the words felt like a kick in the gut. “Probably.” But she wouldn’t be Acsah. Only a poor substitute.

  “One way or another, this will be over soon. You can start again, whether in Bethlehem or somewhere else. I can go with you, or you can leave everyone and everything behind and go somewhere where no one knows you.”

  Othni looked to Seraiah and blinked. “You think I want that?”

  “I don’t know. I thought perhaps you might want to get away from anyone who knew about Ac … Who knew you.”

  “No.” He stared at Enosh, marching unevenly ahead of him. “I don’t want to run again. I just
came back. You’re all I have left.”

  Siah slapped him on the back. “Good. I’d miss you. But if you tell anyone I said that, I’ll deny it.”

  “Siah, all I want now is for both of us to come out of this alive.”

  Siah grinned. “It’s been a long time since anyone called me that.”

  Othni tried to smile, remembering the name he’d given his baby brother when he couldn’t pronounce Seraiah. It had stuck. “It’s amazing we’ve made it this far. I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

  His heart ached. Until he’d returned a few weeks ago, he’d had no idea his abba had died. Two years ago, but for him the pain was still fresh.

  Siah looked so much like Abba now that sometimes it shocked Othni. His little brother was no longer little. He’d grown taller, stronger. Of age to marry. Hard to believe.

  The sky darkened as the road climbed gradually higher over a series of low hills. Under the light of a nearly full moon, they halted to make camp. He dropped his pack at his feet and shook out his sleeping mat. Owls hooted as they searched for food. In the distance a hyena called.

  Siah placed his next to Othni’s. “We must be close if we’ve stopped.”

  “Let’s just try to sleep.”

  Much too soon, Othni opened one eye and then slammed it shut as the sunlight pierced it. He groaned and rolled over, smacking his dry lips.The short midsummer night meant he’d slept little, and the day promised to be long, hot, brutal—and potentially deadly.

  He grabbed his waterskin, guzzled some, and splashed more on his face. His ears rang with Enosh's voice as the commander strutted among the men, making sure everyone was awake—and knew he was in charge. Clenching his jaw, Othni slapped the clay stopper in his skin, then grabbed his belt, cinched it around his waist, and tied the skin on it. He strapped on his quiver and checked his bow for the tenth time in two days. Finally, he attached the sheath for his sword on his left hip.

  Why did he still not feel ready to face giants?

  Yahweh, give me courage. Give me strength. Help me make Judah safe for Your people.

  For Acsah. Even though she would be the wife of another.

  By midafternoon Kiriath-Sepher was in sight. Soaring towers sat atop gargantuan walls. The city boasted massive gates on the north, east, west and south.

  Desert valleys surrounded the city on all sides. The negev was devoid of neither life nor water, however, especially here bordering Judah’s highlands. Huge vineyards and olive groves on terraced hillsides hugged the city.

  East of the city lay a valley filled with fig trees. Their shallow root systems meant water lay not terribly far below the surface. Enosh ordered the older boys they brought along to serve as camp helpers to start digging while the soldiers set up camp.

  Othni tossed his mat on the ground and joined Salmah at the top of the valley. Giants continued their daily activities as if the Israelites didn’t exist.

  Othni watched the Anakim prune vines, tend to olive trees and herd goats. “They have to know we’re here, don’t they?”

  “There’s no way they can’t. The landscape is too wide open to even try to hide our arrival,” Salmah said. “I think they just don’t care. We represent no threat to them whatsoever.”

  Which was why a siege probably wasn’t the best idea in the first place.

  But it wasn’t up to him.

  Enosh strolled up the rise and stood next to Salmah. “I’ve posted archers on the ridges above the wells. So as of now, the giants can’t access them. It shouldn’t take long in this heat for them to surrender.” He turned so Othni could see his face. “Which is good, because I have a wedding to get back to.” He tossed a smug look in Othni’s direction and sauntered off.

  Othni tried to concentrate on the war to come and ignore the one in his heart, but he was failing. In that particular battle, Enosh was far too powerful an adversary.

  “It appears I will soon be married, to a warrior. The one thing I did not want to happen.” Acsah held the hem of her tunic as she waded in the shallow water of her favorite spring outside Hebron.

  Simeon slammed his open hand on the surface, sending splashes high above his head and dissolving into fits of laughter.

  Rahab grasped Simeon’s hand and pulled him closer. “Acsah, what makes you think your abba cannot survive without you? He’s a grown man. He raised you. He can certainly take care of himself.”

  “Of course he can take care of himself. That’s not what I’m worried about. But I don’t want him to be alone.” Her mind wandered to that day, so many years ago…. Her chest constricted against the pain that welled up. Nobody should be alone.

  “Acsah?” Rahab’s voice called her back to the present.

  “Hmmm?”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Of course. Why?”

  “You were scowling. What were you thinking about?”

  “Nothing.” She scanned the shimmering water reflecting the afternoon sunshine. “You know, this is where I come when I want to think, to pray. There’s something about the water, the birds, the flowers. I feel safe here. I can feel Yahweh here. I can hear His voice.” She paused as a butterfly flitted past. “I’ve been coming here quite often lately.”

  Rahab rubbed her back.

  “Let’s sit.” Ascah gestured to an outcropping of rocks. “Abba said he might get married.”

  “He did?” Rahab brushed dirt from the rock. “To whom?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What exactly did he say?”

  “He asked if I would feel better about leaving if he were married.”

  “That doesn’t mean he has anyone in mind or even any plans to start looking. It only means he might start thinking about it.”

  Simeon played at their feet in a cluster of brightly colored blossoms. “Imma, look at all the flowers!”

  “They’re beautiful, my son. What are you going to do with them?”

  “Some for you, and some for Acsah.” He gathered a bunch, divided them between the women, and then ran off to find more.

  Rahab inhaled a deep breath, cast a sideways glance at Acsah. “Did you meet the ones your father chose?”

  “Enosh I know a little from town. And the other choice was … Othni.”

  “But your abba did not choose him.”

  Acsah recalled Othni’s dark eyes, his soft laugh, which she’d heard for but a moment. “No, he did not.”

  Rahab stared at her, then her eyes widened, and a smile spread over her face. “You wish he had!”

  Acsah’s face warmed. “I wish no such thing.”

  Rahab laughed. “Oh, yes, you do.”

  She looked away, chewing on her lip. “What I wish does not matter. Not to Abba, not to Yahweh.” She plucked a flower from the bouquet and twirled it, then tossed it to the ground.

  “Oh, I think you are very much mistaken.”

  “If what I wanted mattered, someone would have asked me.” She suppressed a smile as she remembered their conversation under the trees. Othni did.

  “Tell me about him.”

  “You already know him.”

  “Well then, tell me about Enosh.”

  Acsah sighed. “We ate a meal together with Abba. He ate an entire bowl of dates, then shoved the bowl at me and expected me to fill it again. He never said please, thank you, hello, goodbye—in fact, I don’t think he spoke to me once.”

  “Not once?”

  She shook her head. “Well, actually, he did. He asked me how soon after he returned I would marry him. He is an excellent example of why I never wanted to marry a soldier. He’s rude, arrogant, demanding …”

  “Is he at least good-looking?” Rahab grinned.

  Acsah smiled. “Yes, Rahab, he’s very handsome. So whenever he’s at home and not off somewhere fighting, I can at least admire his face while he’s ignoring me.”

  Rahab chuckled. “Don’t forget, in order to marry you, Enosh has to win.”

  “I don’t see how he can’t. He’s a
perfect warrior.” Her voice trailed off.

  “You never know what Yahweh will do. I could never have predicted what my life would be like now. When I was in Jericho hiding my husband and your abba from the soldiers, I thought surely we would all be killed. When I was begging Joshua to save my family, I thought there was no way he would agree. When I was struggling to learn all of Yahweh’s laws, I thought I’d be lucky to live among you, if I ever learned them all.” She glanced at Simeon, giggling as he tugged more blossoms from the soil. “And I never thought someone as wonderful as Salmah would ask me to marry him, or we’d have such a beautiful little boy who gives me wildflowers.”

  Rahab wiped a tear from Acsah’s cheek. “Give Yahweh room to work.”

  The wells had been guarded for two weeks. The giants didn’t seem to care. The Israelites stayed in camp and watched from behind their hill as the Anakim led their animals out to the fields every morning, tended to crops, and brought them back each evening. They even carried water outside in great buckets to fill troughs for their cattle and sheep. How much water could they possibly have stored inside those walls?

  Othni ripped a leaf into pieces as he sat with the other captains around a fire. The good part about being the attackers was they didn’t have to hide, allowing them the luxury of a nightly fire.

  Salmah stood a few strides away, arms crossed. “This is not working.”

  Enosh paced. “It hasn’t even been two weeks. We need to have patience.”

  “By this time there should be some sign their water is running low. They cannot have enough water stored for that many people for this long in the heat of summer.” Salmah shook his head. “They’re getting water from somewhere.”

  “No. We just need to wait them out. A siege always wins. Caleb himself said so. That’s why he chose me.” He glared again at Othni.