Читать книгу Daughter of Lachish - Tim Frank - Страница 11

The column of soldiers seemed endless, disappearing over the crest of the rise. The troops marched to the beat of the drum, the land reverberating under their steps. Even during the climb their steps were firm, their advance persistent. Behind him Itur-Ea could hear the shouting of the drivers goading on their oxen, mules or camels. The animals’ backs and the carts were laden with tents, cooking pots, jars of food, weapons, ammunition, and siege machines. The whole army camp was on the move. When he turned around, Itur-Ea could even see the rear guard protecting the end of the train.

Hauled by mules, the carts carrying the siege machines were at the head of the freight section. Itur-Ea walked beside the cart on which his machine had been packed. He liked to keep an eye on it. He even carried his tools in a bag on his back.

As he arrived at the crest of the hill, he could see the full might of the Assyrian army marching down the gentle slope into the wide valley ahead. The banners shone in the early afternoon sun. The soldiers’ mail shirts glistened in the heat. The spears of the infantry stretched across the land like a forest. It was the splendor of Assyria on display. And up ahead where the outer reaches of the plain merged into the hill country was the city on a hill, Libnah—their destination. This city, too, had not yielded to Assyrian power and now the full weight of the Assyrian forces would fall upon it and smash it.

As the army came close to the hill of Libnah it stopped. The war chariots and cavalry swept round the city in a wide circle, cutting off any escape route. The main corps of the army crossed the little stream and stood to face the city. Behind them the vassal forces and sappers began to erect the camp. Trenches were dug. The first palisade walls were rammed into the ground. As it was only a short march from Lachish, they had taken much of the camp’s fortifications with them. Still, some troops swarmed into the countryside to cut down trees for building material.

Itur-Ea was involved in erecting the officers’ tents. They were far larger than those of the ordinary soldiers and canvas overlaps were carefully sewn together. By nightfall, walls surrounded the whole camp. The war chariots and horses had been brought within its walls. Not all of the soldiers yet had a roof over their heads. There would be more work in the days to come. Meanwhile, they had to be alert in this first night of the siege. Often, defenders rated their chances to inflict losses on any army weary from its march.

* * *

Rivkah inhaled the fresh, morning air deeply. The sun had already risen high on the horizon and the morning clouds were scattering. Soon the sun’s rays would strike the land unhindered by the mist. It would be a warm day. The birds were still chirping and swarming through the still air. Rivkah took her eyes off the ground and watched their incessant activity. They were darting from branch to branch, flying high into the sky and then hopping across the leafy ground. A smile crossed Rivkah’s lips as she contemplated the exuberance of their fluttering and singing.

She had come out here with Amnon and Joab to gather more herbs and greens. Well, the men were not here to look for food. They had come out to these straggling trees to look for wood. Amnon wanted to see whether he couldn’t find some reasonably straight branches to construct a turntable for building pots. They had made a few pots in their time here, molding the clay with their hands as best as they could, but the ware was not particularly even or durable. Joab and Amnon had resolved that this time they would try to do better. And Naarah agreed that it would be much easier if they could turn the pots and work on them evenly, adding coil after coil to build a vessel.

When Rivkah had heard about their plans at breakfast, she suggested she could go with them and search for greens. Under Ayalah’s guidance she had become quite good at picking edible plants. She certainly preferred it to working round the cave and looking after the goats.

Amnon and his family had brought two goats with them. They kept them in a cave nearby—just a few paces away. Every morning and evening they milked them. One morning Naarah had taken Rivkah with her to do the milking. Naarah had squatted down beside one of the goats and started to squeeze the milk into a bowl. She had looked at Rivkah and told her that she should not just stand there but get on with milking the other goat. Rivkah had never ever milked a goat before nor, in fact, a sheep or a cow. She had stood there, not knowing what to do. After watching Naarah and trying to see how she did it, Rivkah got down beside the other goat and hesitantly placed the bowl under the udder. The goat had stood placidly. Rivkah took the teats into her hands and tried to squeeze some milk out of them. But nothing came, not one drop. She had tried again. Nothing. The teats felt so awkward in her hands.

Maybe I have to slide my fingers down the teat, she had thought. Trying this technique she got a thin squirt of milk from the udder, which even landed in the bowl. Try as she might, though, she had not been able to coax any more milk from those teats. Meanwhile the goat had become irritated and kicked Rivkah. She no longer stood still. Rivkah trembled. She wanted to get this right! Finally Naarah had come over, looked at the few drops of milk in the bowl and the nervous goat and told Rivkah to get up.

Well, Naarah had told her in no uncertain terms how useless she was—not even able to milk a goat. Naarah had finished the milking and had made Rivkah carry the bowl with milk back to the cave. Since then Rivkah avoided the goats at milking time. She did not want to show her ineptitude again. She always found something else to do. Today it was foraging for food.

While the two men searched through the open forest, Rivkah wandered through the clearings. She found a good patch of sorrel. Using a small flint knife she cut the leaves off. That was easier than plucking them. And with sorrel it was totally impossible to pull the whole plant out.

Rivkah hummed a tune as she worked. She could remember only some of the words and did not even attempt to sing them. They spoke of love and longing, that much she knew, but the music expressed those feelings far more deeply than words ever could. She dreamed of a prince who would drive out the Assyrians and rebuild Lachish, a hero who would ask her, Rivkah, to be at his side to bring the city to life again. How Naarah would look then! And her parents would be so proud of her. But they were no more. As the melody became more melancholy so her thoughts turned to the people and places she had lost. With pained expression she repeated the sorrowful chorus of the tune.

Silent now, Rivkah suddenly noticed that she had cut more than enough sorrel. It didn’t taste that good on its own. People would also want something else. She had to see what more she could find. She stuffed the leaves into the bundle and walked on.

It was then that she noticed the figure at the edge of the clearing. A man stepped out of the shadow of a tree. It wasn’t Amnon or Joab, Rivkah could see that immediately. She froze, uncertain what to do. Panic crept up in her. It seemed as if the man had watched her for some time. He came towards her. He was a Judahite. His clothes showed that. They must have been very nice clothes once, those of a rich man. But now they were torn and dirty.

“Shalom.”

Rivkah didn’t know how to respond to his greeting. Her instincts told her to keep quiet. But then she thought of Joab and Amnon. How could she alert them that there was someone else in the woods?

“Shalom, traveler,” Rivkah said loudly.

“How do you know I am a traveler?” the stranger asked.

“The towns and villages here have been destroyed by the Assyrian army, my lord.” Rivkah kept up the loud voice.

“That is true,” acknowledged the man. “But what are you doing out here?”

“I am gathering herbs and leaves.”

“So far from a village?”

Rivkah did not want to reveal or talk about the cave they lived in. In these times you couldn’t really trust anyone. It would be best he didn’t know.

“The herbs are best here.” It sounded like a good enough reason. Of course, Rivkah had never really looked for herbs before she started living in the cave. But it was true: this forest did yield the best green plants in the areas she had covered with Ayalah so far.

The man did not look convinced.

“So where are you from, girl?”

“What do you mean, my lord?” Rivkah tried to deflect the question.

“What is your town or village?” the man asked.

Rivkah didn’t answer at once. Somehow she did not want to mention Lachish. But what else should she say? She didn’t even know the names of any of the other villages in this area. In that moment her conversation with Ayalah came to mind. And so it was, that the name of the village Amnon and his family came from quietly passed her lips, “Shechar.”

“Shechar? But didn’t the Assyrians destroy that village, too?”

Rivkah did not know what to say.

The silence that followed felt uncomfortable. The man clearly expected an answer and wanted to press further. How could she explain? Just then a twig snapped loudly somewhere to the right of Rivkah. Both she and the man turned towards the sound.

It was Amnon, striding into the clearing. Rivkah couldn’t see Joab.

Amnon greeted the stranger, “Shalom my friend.”

The man responded, “Shalom.”

He was clearly surprised by Amnon’s confidence.

Amnon walked right to the centre of the clearing, beckoned the man to come closer and sat down. Reluctantly the man walked towards Amnon and seated himself on the ground opposite him.

“Let us talk plainly,” Amnon began.

“So be it,” the man affirmed, casting a fleeting glance at Rivkah as she came nearer to listen to what was said.

“I can see you are a Judahite.” Amnon looked at the man’s clothes.

“I am,” the man confirmed.

“So are we,” Amnon continued. “We all know about the calamity that has befallen our land. These are troubled times. We have to be cautious and yet we have to help each other. As for us, we are simple peasants, living in the hills. But tell me about you, my friend! What brings you here? You do not look like a peasant.”

“No, I am the secretary to the governor of Libnah.” As he spoke he seemed to have decided to trust this peasant who was welcoming him as confidently as if he sat in the city gate and not on the ground in a remote forest.

“I am Beriah, son of Jesher. For two years I have been the governor’s secretary in Libnah. The Assyrians have attacked Libnah. The city is still resisting, but unless it gets help, it will fall. When we saw the advance units scouting the land, we knew that the Assyrians were about to come against the city. I was sent to Jerusalem to warn the king and ask again for reinforcements. I took two men with me. We escaped just in time. Soon the country was swarming with Assyrian soldiers. We constantly had to be on our guard. We did not travel along the main roads, so our journey to Jerusalem was slow. But when we arrived there we soon realized that Jerusalem was completely encircled by the Assyrians. There was no way we could get through the siege lines to bring a message to the king. Nor would the king be able to send his soldiers out of the city—not without a battle at least. Our mission had been to no avail. I finally decided to send one of the men to try and make it through the lines to Jerusalem. He did not succeed. We saw his body the next morning, thrust on a spear.”

“Horrible!” Amnon showed his disgust at Assyrian cruelty.

“The Assyrians are merciless. I knew we had to flee. Who knows, maybe the man had told the Assyrians of our presence? So we made our way back to Libnah again. When I saw the city from afar my heart stood still. The whole countryside around it was covered with Assyrian soldiers. Like ants around a dead jackal, they swarmed around the city. Libnah is not dead yet. It is still fighting. But it cannot withstand the might of the Assyrian army forever. For this is the main unit of the Assyrians. The force surrounding Jerusalem is a small band by comparison. And Libnah is not Jerusalem. I would trust Jerusalem to hold out against the mightiest army. Its walls are strong, its towers high and thick. It has supplies for thousands. But not little Libnah. We watched the city from a distance for two days. But then we were discovered when we were getting water. I escaped, my comrade did not.”

Beriah said no more. He swallowed hard. Grief and concern clearly showed on his face.

“Now you have come here?”

“Yes, I fled into the hills. I cannot reach Libnah, cannot get to Jerusalem.”

“You are alone now?”

Beriah lifted his hands and shoulders: “Totally alone.”

“And your family?”

“My father’s house is in Jerusalem.” He lowered his eyes and stared at the ground before adding quietly, “My wife and son are in Libnah.”

Amnon didn’t ask any more questions. Gathering a twig in his right hand he scratched a meaningless pattern into the dirt. Rivkah, standing behind Amnon, chased away a fly in the uncomfortable silence that followed. Beriah sat there on the ground, occasionally nodding his head as if to remind him of some important thought that came fleetingly back to him. Finally Amnon snapped the twig in two and threw the pieces away. He stood up and said to Beriah,

“I am Amnon of Shechar. My family and I have sought refuge in the hills. There is a group of fugitives here. We would be glad to offer you rest for a while. Ours is a very humble abode, but you are welcome, secretary to the governor.”

“Thank you, Amnon. The LORD bless you. I gladly accept your hospitality.”

Beriah got off the ground, brushing the dirt off his clothes. Amnon turned and saw Rivkah standing just behind him, watching the men. He spoke to Beriah, “This is Rivkah of Lachish, one of the other refugees living here.”

“Lachish?” Beriah looked confused. He gave Rivkah a questioning glance.

She did not reply but gave a slight nod.

At that moment Amnon called out, “Joab! Come, we will bring the stranger back to the cave.”

Joab appeared from amongst the trees, smiling nervously. Amnon introduced him to Beriah, “This is Joab, another farmer who fled to these hills.”

Turning to Joab he added, “This is the secretary to the governor of Libnah. He has been pursued by the Assyrians. I have offered to receive him in our home.”

With Amnon leading, the little group left the clearing and entered the forest.

They stopped briefly to allow Joab to get a few pieces of wood they had found. The group continued in silence when he joined them again.

Amnon led the group most of the way. But when they were partway up the final hill he fell back and walked beside Rivkah.

“Are you sure your bundle is not too heavy? I can help you if it’s too much for you.”

Rivkah assured him that it was alright. In fact, it was not even as full as it normally was.

Strange, Amnon had never before worried how heavy her bundle was. Did he just want to show his concern in front of a stranger?

He leaned a bit closer and asked quietly, “Rivkah, did you hear what his name is? Hm, I can’t remember it.”

So that’s what he was really worried about!

“It’s Beriah,” Rivkah told him.

“Ah, thanks,” Amnon mumbled and then hurried back to the front of the group.

Rivkah smiled. That was Amnon! So confident, but sometimes he forgot to listen.

* * *

Leah stood in line with the other women collecting their ration of bread from the bakery. The bread was baked in large ovens in Jerusalem, each supplying a whole quarter of the city. No one baked bread at home, not now during the siege. Here at the bakery the women and girls exchanged the latest gossip, talked about the situation of the city and the land, voiced their fears and their hopes.

“Have you heard? The field commander of the Assyrians delivered an ultimatum to the king.”

“When?”

“Just yesterday.”

“My husband heard it, too. He had gone up to the wall and stood near the gate when the Rabshakeh read out his message.”

“Was the king there, too?”

“No, but Shebna, the state secretary, was there.”