The Philistine Warrior (28 page)
So, I thought, Uncle Zaggi has finally seen the whole point of King Ekosh’s strategy! “Not to mention punishing him for the assassination,” I remarked—adding to Zaggi’s reasons for wanting Samson’s head.
“Of course,” he answered. Then we adjourned for lunch. Later, with some of our officers, we resumed our deliberations,
concentrating on how to deal with Samson, while bedeviled by that damned truce between Ekron and Dan. We were almost through—after making very little headway—when an excited messenger arrived; pushing past my chamberlain, he insisted on speaking to us immediately.
“What do you want, and whom do you represent?” I demanded. The man was tired, evidently having ridden hard to reach us. His face was covered with dust. If I’d been Zaggi, I would have chastised him for his presumption, and ordered him off to make himself presentable. Instead, I motioned him to a chair, and even offered him a drink of water.
“My Lords,” he began, “I come from Ittai, Sheren of Ekron, and I’ve been to see the Melek as well, on the way….” He gulped. “A terrible thing has happened. The Danites…they broke the truce…they pulled off a surprise attack on Timnath….” We all froze in horror. In a split second, thoughts raced through my mind: I knew what might come next, but I let wishful thinking block out what I feared to hear. “They seized the town,” this officer went on, “and their leader kidnapped the Queen!”
“My God!” I swore—but I’d expected to hear that she was dead! “You say she was kidnapped?!” The poor man looked anxiously at us all, as if expecting to be condemned.
Zaggi turned on him: “Didn’t your army fight for the town—and for Queen Delai?” he roared.
“Yes, m’Lord, but there’d been a truce, you know, and we didn’t expect such an unprovoked thing! And no one in Timnath even knew that Her Majesty was there. It wasn’t until Sheren Ittai got word of the attack—
he
knew she was there….”
I butted into the conversation again to ask the most vital question of all: “But what’s happened to the Queen?” I must have sounded quite desperate—as I was.
“That’s why I’m here, my Lord,” he replied. “I’ve just come from Gath, and the Melek wants a conference of all the sherens…my own Lord, Sheren Ittai, doesn’t want to take any action that might endanger Her Majesty’s life, without consulting with the Melek and all of the sherens….”
“What do you mean? Is she still in Timnath?”
“Yes, sir. The Danites sent word that they’re holding the Queen in Timnath—for ransom!”
I think that enraged us almost as much as the news of the kidnapping itself, though it should have given us some hope. “The impudent bastards!” I exclaimed.
“This was the work of Samson, wasn’t it?” Zaggi growled.
“Yes, m’Lord, that’s their leader’s name; the same who killed His Majesty.”
“How did he find out she was in Timnath?” I snapped, fearing treason somewhere—or stupid carelessness on Ittai’s part.
The man shook his head: “No one knows, m’Lord. Maybe he didn’t know her identity until he got hold of her. Anyway, they know it now….” He paused, but no one spoke; so he continued: “Samson might kill her if we try to attack Timnath. And even if we
could
retake the town, he might escape with her into the hills.” He reached for some water.
“And even if we pay ransom,” I ventured, bitterly, “he might kill her, anyway.” Again I felt that dreadful helplessness in the face
of the unacceptable, as on the day Ekosh died—right in the pit of my stomach I felt it.
“Gastly!” Zaggi exclaimed in frustrated rage. “Don’t you realize what this means? The Queen is a symbol of all
Philistia
, of our national unity.” Shaky unity at that—and Zaggi, with Maoch, was on top of the shaky structure.
“She’s also a very precious life, damn it!” I shot back—in anger at Zaggi’s merely political comment. My own guilt also weighed heavily on me. I had promised Ekosh that I would protect his wife—and I had failed. What’s more, I had actively assisted her in getting herself to Timnath—and so had Zaggi, which perhaps explained his own outburst of temper. But we had no idea back then that Delai might be in danger in Timnath—only on the journey there.
In any event, Zaggi was now in a mood—for once—to blame Sheren Ittai, for whom he’d always felt a certain, entirely understandable, contempt. The unfortunate messenger was obviously embarrassed by a dirty look from Zaggi; and embarrassed by the dirty look I gave Zaggi. He must also have been embarrassed on behalf of his own Sheren, who should have taken more care in safeguarding the Queen. Since Ittai wasn’t present, Zaggi seemed about to take out his anger on the messenger.
So I shielded the man by sending him to the mess hall, out of range of Zaggi’s tongue. I spoke to him later, in private, before he started off to
Gaza
with the terrible news. He told me that a second messenger had been dispatched to
Ashdod
.
Meanwhile: “There’s nothing we can do but send a special emissary to Timnath,” I said to Uncle Zaggi, after the messenger had left the room. “We must begin negotiating with Samson—that pig!—or else he might kill her on the spot.”
“I agree,” he replied. “We’ll begin negotiations even before we have our conference with the Melek—and
Ashdod
’s and
Gaza
’s sherens, if they can come to
Gath
right away.”
I wasn’t keen on letting
Gaza
’s Warati into our deliberations, but it was inevitable that he must be included. Moreover, even if we all finally decided not to negotiate—or call the enemy’s bluff, or
insist on guarantees—it didn’t matter: in the short run, we had to begin talks with the monster.
“All we can do now is hope,” I said. “And pray….” So, with grave misgivings, and deep heartache, I got up from the conference table there in my Sheren’s palace—the very house that had been Maoch’s seat of government as Sheren of Askelon, not so long ago. We went dejectedly out of the chamber together, almost united at last, my Uncle Zaggi and I—united in fear and sorrow, together…but not for long….
The Lady of Timnath
Piram mounted to his throne, his son, baby Nasuy, by
His side; “All hail!” he said,
The Lord of Sea and Grain, the Dagon Great, who gave
Us such a King as Nomion,
Who smote the enemy! And in our sorrow, hail
Queen Astarte, too, our Lady of the Mists, the Evening
Star, whose mighty hand
Guides us right in peace and war; Goddess of our land!”
--the
Nomiad
, Stanza LIII
Days later, the lords of
Philistia
met in
Gath
. Maoch, Zaggi, Warati, and I were present; the Sheren of Ashdod, an old nobleman named Makamaru, was there, too, ready now to carry his full share of the burden of all-out war—which, we assumed, would inevitably come soon, no matter what happened to Delai. Zaggi spoke on behalf of the Sheren of Gath, who was out on the border. Sheren Ittai of Ekron was absent, too—he feared that he might arouse Samson’s suspicions and wrath if he came in person to our meeting in Gath; and he was also busy patching up the twice-broken truce with Dan—which he wanted renewed and kept going, at least until the ransom for Delai could be arranged and paid. Ittai had promised, however, to
send a special emissary to
Gath
—someone, he said, who would bring us both good news and hope.
To my astonishment, that emissary turned out to be none other than Ibbi, the Babylonian priest and doctor! He came into our chamber all smiles—but I spoke harshly to him: “Priest,” I said—and with menace in my voice—“you’d
better
have good news for us. I won’t forget that
you
persuaded the Queen to go to Timnath!”
He bowed to us all, then began to speak: “My Lords, my role in arranging the Queen’s visit to Timnath weighs heavily on my conscience, too…and yet, we were only obeying the will of our Goddess…. But I do bring good news, and the Goddess is beginning to reveal Her will, and the reason for all these things—”
“Tell us the news, and we’ll hear about the Goddess later,” I cut in.
“Take care, Phicol,” the Melek advised me. “We don’t want to blaspheme!” Maoch was almost trembling as he said that, and I wondered if it was out of fear of Astarte, or a physical ailment—because, to tell the truth, he didn’t look at all well that day.
Then Ibbi spoke again, and the magic of his voice filled the room; no one tried to interrupt him for a long time, not even me. “My Lords, I am a priest of Ishtar-Astarte, but of Her as She is worshiped in
Chaldea
, south of
Babylon
, by the True and Ancient Ritual…as Lord Phicol already knows. Her Majesty the Queen, you may know, became a devotee of the ancient cult of Ishtar while she was in
Egypt
. After the death of her husband, she sought solace and direction from the Goddess; so I took her to Timnath, where there is a temple dedicated to the ancient ritual of the Goddess. I’m well known there, my Lords, among the other priests and priestesses. It’s the only place in
Philistia
where the ancient rule is practiced.
“One day, as we were in prayer, some Danites came through the city gates, pretending to be merchants; they fell upon the city guards at the gates, and held the passage open—and so their army then rushed in and seized the town. There was much fighting, but the Ekronite soldiers didn’t have a chance. The Danite leader, Samson—the very man who killed the King—then stormed into my chapel with some of his men; he laid impious hands upon Her Majesty right there
on
holy
ground! But he didn’t know who she was, because we were
incognito
in Timnath—as you’re well aware—and he didn’t even know he was in a temple, because he was already drunk, blind drunk. Then the brute dragged her down right there—on holy ground—and raped her while his men stood around—
laughing
!”
At that point, I jumped to my feet, my hand on my sword hilt: “I’ll kill him with my own hands! I’ll rip out his eyes!” I swore. Even Zaggi seemed shocked by the impiety and brutality of Samson’s act.
When we had collected ourselves again, Ibbi resumed his story: “At last I broke free from my guard—there were Danites holding us back—holding back my priests, I mean, but I escaped their clutches. I rushed over to the monster. I cried out that the Goddess would bring down punishment on him and his race, and I told him who Her Majesty was; I even
struck
him—”
“You told him the Queen’s identity?!” Zaggi exclaimed, smacking the table with his palm. “So he could hold her for
ransom
?!”
Despite the horror of it all, I was momentarily amused at the thought of that little old priest, flailing away at the giant figure of Samson! He has guts, after all, I told myself.
Then Priest Ibbi shot back at the Chancellor: “My Lord, Samson might have killed her, as an enemy commoner of no value to him once he’d raped her—or he might have thrown her to his troops for their sport—if I hadn’t told him of her rank as Queen and Priestess!” He paused. No one could answer that. He went on: “When Samson became aware—still drunk—aware of the fact that he was in a
temple
of
Ishtar-Astarte
, whom he also worships, and when he knew of the Lady’s rank, and her status as a priestess, he became very frightened. He left the place in a great hurry—but he took Queen Delai with him!” We stared at him in blank horror. “And yet,” he added, “in a few hours, Her Majesty was returned to my temple—although under guard—”