Читать книгу Delilah - Eleanor Jong De - Страница 8

Due to their late arrival, Delilah had found herself too far back to clearly hear what was being said in the betrothal ceremony. As the vows approached their conclusion, David, her stepfather’s chief clerk, beckoned to her from the end of the row. She slipped out of the rear of the courtyard and went to meet him.

‘Ariadnh has decided that you are to join the group who are offering the dowry items to Samson,’ he whispered.

Delilah pouted. ‘Achish would never have asked me to do that, it’s a servant’s job—’

‘I know, and I’m sorry, but he isn’t here to overrule her.’

She shouldn’t take it out on David, she knew that. He’d been a close friend of her dead father and had always shown kindness to her and her mother.

‘So what do I have to do?’ she sighed.

‘There are jars of the best wine lined up in the kitchen, and there is one small jug of the very special vintage from last year’s heavy rains. The jars are about as tall as you, so you are to carry the jug. Come in last, at the end of the line.’

‘Is that all he’s getting?’

‘There are bolts of linen too, but all together it’s only a quarter of the dowry. The Philistine way is to give a part at betrothal and the rest at marriage.’

‘That sounds exactly like the sort of business Achish would normally do.’

David gave her a dry smile and turned away without responding. Delilah set off for the kitchen, where she found Joshua with the rest of the staff. Every single servant on the estate had been commandeered to help with the ceremony, and here were all the other stable boys smartly dressed up just like Joshua, though not to the same knee-weakening effect. At the far end of the table the special round-bottomed jug stood in its stand, and as she reached it Joshua sidled up to her.

‘What are you doing out here with us?’

‘I think it’s my punishment for not changing my dress.’

He wasn’t standing quite as close this time but she could smell the oil on his skin, and a sweetness too.

‘Have you been sampling the dowry, Joshua?’

He grinned. ‘Of course not. The master is much too good a man to trick anyone like that. But we have been testing each of the jugs we are using to serve the guests. It’s Lord Phicol’s orders. Just because he’s an important Philistine, he thinks all these Israelites are trying to poison him.’

‘That’s ridiculous.’

‘It’s how it is, though, isn’t it?’

‘So they send Hemin to put a bandage on the sore.’

Joshua grinned again. ‘They should have sent you. You could have healed any wound just by kissing it—’

Before Delilah could decide how to answer, one of the senior house servants came in and clapped his hands. Joshua quickly took his place in the line again. The servants moved out into the hallway carrying their heavy loads.

Delilah followed, lifting her head self-consciously as she entered the hallway, ready to assume her role as the jewel at the end of the staff. Here she was no longer simply Hemin’s sister in a pretty new dress; she was an unmarried daughter of a rich Philistine. Her mother was right. I’ll be next.

As they entered the sunlight again, Achish was standing with Hemin before the crowd and Samson had planted his feet like a statue beside them. He watched impassively as the men carried the jars and leaned them with care against the wall. The bolts of linen, protected by hemp lining, were stacked on a table. Delilah came last with the jug, and gave a small bow before standing it beside them. She took her place next to the servants and looked up to see her mother, seated in the front row with the other important guests, give her a proud smile. With the oath-taking over, the guests were muttering among themselves.

Samson said something to the man who stood beside him – the young Israelite whom Delilah had smiled at when serving wine. He spoke to Achish in abrupt though surprisingly fluent Philistine.

‘Is this all you have for our leader? You dignify him with just five jars and six bolts of cloth?’

The guests towards the front went quiet, and the silence spread over the others.

Delilah had never seen her stepfather challenged before. Achish was pale-faced, taken aback. David scurried forward, unrolling a scroll in his hand.

‘It’s merely a deposit, a small portion of the full dowry as a token of good will. I’m sure my master explained that this is the Philistine way—’

At this, two of the visiting Israelites stepped up beside Samson, shorter and leaner, but still intimidating bodyguards. The atmosphere had turned in an instant. ‘We don’t want to hear about the Philistine way,’ continued the spokesman. ‘What about our customs?’

Delilah was worried for David and edged closer. Hemin looked like she was about to faint, and her face searched her father’s. Delilah remembered Ariadnh’s chuckled words about luxuriating for the first time against the body of a new husband. Any hope of that seemed to have evaporated in sheer terror.

‘I thought I had made myself clear this morning,’ Achish said in his quiet way. ‘I respect the customs of both our cultures and I had hoped that this would be a compromise that you would accept. I’ve already agreed to bring the wedding further forward than we would normally—’

‘You persuaded me to take your daughter’s hand,’ said Samson, equally quietly, but infinitely more menacing, ‘at least offer what is due with no haggling.’ He batted the scroll from David’s hand. A murmur of disapproval rippled through the spectators, and even from the edge of the courtyard, Delilah felt herself lean back a little. ‘For a man of such wealth, you offer me a pittance—’

‘She is my only daughter, and she’ll one day inherit a full third share of my estate—’

‘How dare you insult my sister!’ Ekron appeared from nowhere and grabbed hold of Samson’s wrist. The giant’s eyes dropped to her stepbrother’s hand, but he looked surprised more than angry. His two bodyguards weren’t as relaxed and one of them, wiry and agile, immediately jumped forward and planted a fist into Ekron’s waist. He grunted and seemed to fold with the impact. Delilah felt her breath jolt.

Almost immediately one of the cousins, a man in his twenties called Ariston, came from the second row of the spectators and threw a punch at Ekron’s assailant. Chaos ensued. In just a few moments, more of the men had joined the fight, swapping blows with the Israelites, who had swelled up around Samson without warning.

Delilah had witnessed boys fighting in the fields before, scraps over games of dice or some verbal slight, but this was different. There were no rules, no grown-ups to separate the opposing parties. Chairs were tipped over as the women and older men shrank to the back of the courtyard near the gate, while the peace of her family home disintegrated. Hemin, her face streaming with tears, stood near Ariadnh. Lord Phicol disappeared through a side door, pursued by his three escorts. Shouldn’t he be trying to stop the brawl? Delilah thought. Then she saw her stepfather through a gap in the writhing bodies. Samson had snatched the neck of Achish’s gown, and was dragging him like a cat with its paws on a mouse.

Delilah ran forward, seizing the precious wine-jug that moments before had been a symbol of the union. She slipped through the cordon of screaming women who were now clustered together and ran to Achish’s side, her face throbbing with anger.

‘Let him go!’

‘Delilah, no—’ Achish gasped.

‘Let him go, you monster! What has he done to you that you would use your weight and height against him—’

Samson didn’t seem to hear her at all, so intent was he on his fury, but Delilah knew only Achish’s fear and without thinking she jumped on the bench and brought the jug down squarely on Samson’s head. It shattered, leaving only a curved handle in her fingers. The Israelite bully was slow to notice the wine that was now pouring down his face, and Delilah thought he could hardly have felt it through those thick braids on his head.

But when the realisation came to him, it came quickly and in a furious guttural roar of Philistine. ‘This is a man’s business, little girl—’

‘Don’t call me a little girl, I’m fifteen’ – in her anger she lied – ‘and I know the business of this house as well as anyone!’

‘Then let your father do your fighting for you.’

‘Only a coward would fight a man so much weaker than himself.’

A grunt of irritation exploded from Samson’s mouth, and he let go of Achish and turned on her. Delilah’s stomach rolled over and she cast around quickly for something to defend herself with. But there was nothing within reach, apart from—

With a speed that surprised them both, she yanked at one of his braids. But he was snatched from her grasp and bundled away across the room by three of the Israelite men. Ekron clung to the arm of one of them, but he was flung off like an insect, and went crashing into a low table. Delilah ran to his side.

Samson and his men barrelled through the remaining guests and out of the courtyard, set about by Achish’s male relatives as they went.

Ekron’s forehead was grazed and bloodied. Delilah looked around the broken furniture to find a clean napkin to dab at his face.

‘Are you all right?’

‘We should have known better than to make an agreement with them!’ cried Ekron from the safety of the floor.

Delilah sat back on her heels and surveyed the wreckage of the courtyard. Seats and stools had been toppled over and lay broken. Wine stained the dowry bolts of cloth and all the new napkins. Groans and whimpers came from all around. Achish sat on a bench, his head in his hands.

‘What a mess!’ she said.

‘Israelites are all the same,’ snapped Ekron. ‘Barbarians!’

Delilah dabbed harder than she needed to at Ekron’s head, making him yelp. Delilah ignored his pain and dabbed again. ‘Remind me of that the next time I jump in to save our family’s honour.’