Chapter 1
Abram was a man of peace. He spent his working day looking after his flock. His animals loved and trusted him. Often using tough love to make sure they survived the constant raids by predators. Never hesitant to put their interests against those of his own. Abram was a pillar of his small community. His father Terah had given Abram sole charge of his northern herds. To help him Lot had been sent along but it was often Abram that got Lot out of trouble.
It was a time of violence. Herd animals constantly attacked by large predators. These were the common animal predators of all those who graze their herds. In addition there were other predators. These were even more mobile, vicious and powerful. These new predators were the armed men who roamed neighboring lands. Their raids occurred without warning and were often very brutal and almost impossible to prevent.
One day a well known raider band attacked Abram's settlement. They killed his animals then butchered them for their meat. Not satisfied with condemning Abram's people to certain starvation, they then attacked his tents. Women irregardless of age were raped. Men were killed. All of Abram's property was looted. The raiders left with the captured children to sell into slavery.
At the time of the raid Abram was away with his nephew Lot. They had taken their youngest animals to the big city market. Both were happy with the outcome of the deal done in that market place. They traveled carefully knowing that bandits lurked in the hills who would steal their newly acquired wealth. There was no need to buy any new breeding stock as Abram's flock was heavily overburdened with females. This was the subject of the discussion between uncle and nephew as they traveled home by foot. Abram had started it by saying bluntly,
"We must decide on the female stock we can afford to butcher as many as possible. The old ones will like the meat we will have aplenty."
Lot was much younger so had more romantic notions about life. He said in a shocked tone of voice,
"Uncle you cannot kill our female stock. Where will we get our young ones in Spring?"
His uncle looked at the innocence in his nephew' eyes. It was time for this nephew to grow up, so this time Abram did not hide the facts of raw survival. He said in a harsh tone of voice,
"We have too many females in our flock. Do you think our males are so fertile that they can service that many? No, we must choose the least fertile females. We can then have Aaron the butcher kill them and prepare them for our celebratory feast. Remember that we have a responsibility to our old ones. When I am old I hope you remember that I will need meat occasionally. The old ones always eat bread with olive oil, drink the milk from our flock, pick the fruit and vegetables they want from our garden. But you have seen their eyes light up every time the butcher prepares meat for the table."
During this long lecture, Lot had images only of a very young woman. She was the one he had chosen to be his wife. With this new family wealth there would be some for him to offer the neighboring sheikh who was her father. This meant that they could get married as soon as possible. So all that his uncle said passed over his head.
Abram was wise and saw where his nephew's mind had gone. Laughing he said in a teasing tone of voice,
"Besides, you forget that meat is an essential part of any marriage proposal. That sheikh is a greedy one. He will not give a prize such as little Izelle cheaply. But he has a weakness for good quality meat. Our meat is the best he has ever tasted. On his last visit he told me this in private."
Now his uncle had Lot's full attention. He said eagerly,
"Well if we have to thin our herd then so be it. Some of the older females have few breeding years left anyway. But how will you explain all this to your daughters?"
Now Abram had to stop walking to think on this new dilemna. Though his daughters loved all the animals they had grown up with the older females. To butcher any of them will cause a storm of tears in his tent. Shrugging the shoulders of a father of girls, he said in a determined tone of voice,
"Tears from girls are inevitable. But a father's cunning can win them over. They are all very fond of their grandmother. My mother loves meat. I will use this to hush their wails and complaints."
Looking at his uncle with awe Lot said,
"Truly you are the wisest man I know. Never would I have thought of that plan. Yes your daughters will cave in to the demands of our grandmother."
Nodding his head Abram said sagely,
"Remember to work out who the most powerful female is in all your tents. She is the one you must win over. Once that is done, all the other females will fall into line behind her to do your will...........But what is this I smell in the breeze? Who could be burning that much offal refuse from our camp?...."
His nephew had the sharp eyes of the young, so he pointed to the far distance then shouted in alarm,
"LOOK UNCLE LARGE PLUMES OF SMOKE!!!"
Abram could not see this clearly but trusted his nephew's eyesight. Suddenly deep fear clawed at his belly. He exclaimed in a painful gasp,
"No not today when I was not there. The one God is not that vindictive. I only drank the wine to seal our deal. It is against my pledge I know but surely not an offence in the eyes of the one God."
Not understanding what his uncle was saying, Lot danced about asking impatiently,
"Do you want me to race ahead to see what is happening?"
Suddenly aware of what was also in that burning smoke wafting from those fires, he grabbed Lot's right arm before saying in a resigned tone of voice,
"No my son we will face this together. It will be better that I am there with you. But let us certainly walk as fast as we both can. There may still be some hope."
Arriving at the small hill above their camp, Lot was the first to find the dead sentry. It was one of their tent slaves. A man he knew to be vigilant and brave. Now he was just dead. Looking down at the wound in his chest, he said in a confused tone of voice
"This is a spear wound. Who would do such a thing Uncle?"
This time it was Abram who was not listening. He was gazing down at a scene of horror. Not a particularly young man he had seen death before after many raids. But never had he seen death on this scale before. First, disbelief swept over him as he scanned the camp for any signs of life. Then despair gripped his heart, turning it to stone. Then anger flooded his veins. He walked slowly down to the smoking ruins of his camp. Faces of people he knew and loved stared blankly into the sky. Everywhere he saw his beloved animals lay dead with large chunks cut from their bellies.
As Lot caught up with the horror of it all, Abram walked to his tent. New depths of despair drove him to his knees when he saw his wife and older daughters. Their throats had been cut but not before other horrors had been visited upon them. His wails of pain and anger rent the air. Soon his nephew was kneeling next to him, inconsolably crying at the gruesome sight of his dead aunt and cousins.
Abram stopped his noise but his anger continued to rise. He got up to check the outskirts of his camp. Sure enough he found the trail of the attackers. Then he started to walk after them. After awhile his nephew caught up, saying in a horrifically sad tone of voice,
"Uncle should we not bury them? It is our custom."
Abram only just heard these words of his nephew but in his anger he spun around to grab him by the throat. Lifting him off the ground he said,
"We will have our revenge THEN we will bury them. How can our dead rest if they are not avenged?"
Letting his nephew fall to the ground, Abram resumed his hunt for the slayers of his family. In his bubbling rage, he began to run. Ignoring all personal pain he kept up the pace. Then his luck changed. Sounds of camels and men arguing drifted to his ears. The enemy camp had been located near a natural spring. This was for the sake of watering the stolen flocks. Now it would provided Abram with one last favor. He could see a lot of people sitting near that well. Pulling Lot down to the ground he pointed.