In the dark night Itur-Ea pressed himself against the cold leather panels. What would tomorrow bring? Would he feel the presence of Ishtar? With a sigh he turned and went to his tent which he shared with a dozen other soldiers.
* * *
Was Nepheg dreaming of a sumptuous meal, fresh fruit and juice? He loudly smacked his lips in his sleep and chewed on non-existent food. Now and then it sounded as if something had got stuck in his throat. But with a sudden rasping noise he always cleared it again, took a deep breath, and then moved his lips once more, smacking and slurping. He’s probably drooling, too, Rivkah thought. It was pitch dark, so she couldn’t see his face. Nepheg had never been a quiet sleeper, but he must be really hungry tonight.
In the evening, like every evening, they had taken the mats and blankets from the alcove and spread them on the floor in the main room of the upper storey. The children slept together here, except for Susannah, who was with Mother and Father in the little bedroom. In summer they would often sleep on the roof, but Father had thought it unsafe while a war was going on. So they had to endure the night in the heat of the living room. And it did get quite warm up here towards evening, with the day’s heat trapped inside the house.
Shallum was sleeping peacefully beside Rivkah. His breathing was quiet and regular. To her left lay Shomer. She had rolled over again and was leaving precious little space for Rivkah. When they went to bed they had had enough room, but Shomer encroached on Rivkah’s space during the night. Why did she always have to twist and turn? Could she not remain still when sleeping? Shomer pushed her elbow into Rivkah’s side. Rivkah sat up. She gently tried to nudge Shomer to roll back away from her, but had little success. At long last Shomer did move a little.
Rivkah did not lie down again immediately. She stared into the dark and listened. The sounds of her sleeping siblings seemed to recede into the background and she thought she could hear the footsteps of soldiers hurrying across the street below. Even at night they kept watch over the city, defending it against the enemy outside its walls. What did they see as they watched and listened into the dark, trying to detect any movement by the enemy?
And what did the Assyrians see? A city fortified by strong walls, defended by determined men? Did they dream of riches inside the walls? The governor in the citadel had some opulent furniture and the incense stands in the sanctuary were beautiful. But Rivkah had heard of the wealth of Assyria. They had buildings covered in gold, intricate ebony reliefs on temple walls and purple curtains on windows. The city of their great king was so large it took three days to cross it and all its houses were fine and luxurious. No, they wouldn’t find any such riches in Lachish, where people had just enough to survive.
Maybe it was the brutality of the Assyrian army that caused them to continue this siege. Rivkah had heard of their viciousness and violence. Were they out to plunder and to kill?
Rivkah shuddered. She put her hand against her chest and clasped the amulet. It was a figure of Isis with the infant Horus. Rivkah felt the outline of the goddess’s face framed by the full Egyptian hair. In her lap Isis cradled the child-god Horus.
Would the charm of the goddess help her? Isis was a protector in times of strife, a helper to those in trouble, a source of life. Powerful and skilled in magic, she was the great healer. According to legend, the goddess had prevailed against the cruel god Seth, who had slain her husband. Everything had seemed lost. Through her determination and magic she had conceived a child—Horus, the falcon, who would avenge his father and banish the evil Seth. From death and despair, Isis persevered to the birth of a child who would give victory and life.
Rivkah’s fingers glided over the hieroglyphs at the back of the little figurine. Through these marks the power of Isis was with her, the protection of the goddess effective for her. Would Isis guard her at this time of danger? Would the power of Horus keep her safe?
But what if the violent goddess Anath thirsted for blood with a vengeance neither men nor gods could prevent? Anath exulted in human blood and may have set her face against Lachish. Maybe the gods of Assyria would prove victorious. Had they not swept away the gods of all the nations they conquered? And what about the LORD, the God of Judah? Was he powerful to save Lachish? Rivkah knew that people throughout the city called on their gods to save them. Would the gods protect their followers? Rivkah sensed the cosmic struggle that was being waged over Lachish.
As she lay down again she held the amulet tightly. In all the uncertainties it gave her hope. She breathed calmly and closed her eyes. Nepheg, too, now slumbered peacefully beside Shallum. The pangs of hunger must have passed. Rivkah gave Shomer another nudge and was rewarded with a handbreadth of space.
Chapter 3
In the east, above the outline of the hills, the pale sky heralded the breaking of a new day. The light of morning grew ever brighter, reflected in the western sky in a subdued red glow. As the shadows waned and the tide of light reached the valley floors, the ranks of the Assyrian army became plain to see. Myriads upon myriads surrounded the city of Lachish, ready to storm its walls. The standards of the gods were held aloft before each regiment. The rows of helmets stood as if in devotion to the greater powers they followed.
The sun rose in the east and its rays glinted on the weaponry of the defenders on the city wall. The trumpet blew. Assyria attacked. First the archers stepped forward, coming up the hill and sending a hail of arrows upon the men on the walls of Lachish. Behind them the siege machines were pushed up the hill. As the advance of the archers slowed, the siege machines passed through their lines and continued their crawl up the ramp. The ranks of the archers closed immediately behind them and followed these monsters of war up the hill. Arrows struck the machines like enraged bees stinging an intruder. As they got closer to the wall, stones and torches, chariot wheels and furniture were thrown from above—anything that might inflict some damage.
It was time to wet the sides of the machine. Itur-Ea filled the ladle and poured the first scoop over the front. The archers beside Itur-Ea methodically loaded their bows and released the arrows.
They had arrived under the city wall. The machines were rolled into position, the brakes applied, and the battering rams started swinging. Thump! Itur-Ea felt the tremor as the ram struck the wall. To his left and right more machines were pounding the city defenses. The blows were aimed at cracks left by previous attacks. Sooner or later the cracks would widen and the walls would crumble.
“Chain coming down!” Itur-Ea glimpsed it through the window. The siege machine captain at once shouted orders. This time they wouldn’t allow the machine to be disarmed again. The crew down below stopped swinging the boom and, on the captain’s signal, four soldiers protected by shield-bearers, rushed forward. Even though one was killed by enemy fire, the others were able to get hooks into the chain. Pulling hard, they managed to rip one end of the chain out of the defenders’ hands. The chain snapped against the wall, hitting an Assyrian shield-bearer so hard that he went down in agony. But the threat was over for the moment and the battering ram resumed striking the wall.
The defenders did not give up, tried harder still to disable the siege machines. They let down a stone suspended from a rope. A hole was bored in its centre where the rope was attached. The men of Lachish swung it like a pendulum. The rope became ensnared in the battering ram of a machine, halted the constant attack on the wall for a moment. But it proved no hindrance to the determination of the Assyrian soldiers. Itur-Ea saw the stone thud to the ground, the cut rope swinging harmlessly against the wall.
The sun stood clear in the eastern sky by now. Itur-Ea was unsure how much time had passed. Suddenly he heard a loud, shattering sound and the screams of terrified men. Itur-Ea looked to the left. The defenders had managed to roll an enormous boulder onto the next siege machine. The timber framing had not withstood the force of the impact and had crumpled and broken. Loud cheers from the city wall greeted the destruction. Another huge stone was pushed from above and further shattered the machine.
“Ishtar, have mercy!” Itur-Ea’s friend Naid-Marduk had been in that machine. There seemed little hope, as the men of Lachish targeted the heap of timber, hides, and men, throwing torches and shooting arrows. The unthinkable happened: the wreckage caught fire. Flames