about our machines,” Itur-Ea agreed. “He only recently joined the division—originally he was an engineer and sapper.”
“Those guys are not much use here at Lachish with that bloody glacis they put around their hill. There’s no way of burrowing under the walls.”
“The whole place is a nightmare. May Ashur give us victory soon!”
* * *
If anyone had still been asleep, they would be awake now. The donkey protested loudly and strongly at being roused from its rest. Head down, flanks heaving, sucking in the air as it loudly snorted its “ee-ah,” panting like a dog on heat. Meshullam had expected as much from the beast. He gave it an irritated slap on the back. Normally, most people would have just turned over on their mats, if they were not up already. The braying of donkeys could be heard in the town any time of the day. But today it might just remind them that they had to get ready. The last possessions had to be packed, the belongings loaded on donkeys and carts. The people of Moresheth-Gath were leaving their town today, heading for Jerusalem, the capital. It was no longer safe here. So far the Assyrians had not attacked the town, but some of the smaller villages not far away had been raided, cattle and sheep had been stolen. It was only a matter of time before Assyrian troops attacked the small town itself. Meshullam’s father, Ehud, was sure Moresheth-Gath would not be able to withstand the Assyrian force. They had to leave.
Little groups had already left the town in the previous few weeks. Some had gone to the fortified city of Azekah, others to the government centre of Socoh, still others all the way to Jerusalem. Father had been clear that only at Mount Zion, in the city of the LORD, could they find refuge from the mighty army, the tool of the LORD’s wrath.
Most of the people that still remained in Moresheth-Gath had decided to go with Ehud. After all, he was the most influential town elder these days, even though he was among the younger men at the gate. Two days ago Ehud had urged them that they had no time to lose. It was now or never. So Meshullam got the animals ready for departure this morning.
The sun was rising above the eastern hills when the group set out from the town. They went across the narrow saddle at the northern gate to reach the wide ridge that ran nearly all the way to Azekah. The cows bellowed in front of the carts, the donkeys snorted as they were hurried along, the sheep called to their young as flocks were herded together. The goats bleated in protest. The excited shouts of children mixed with the determined commands of men, the crying of babies with the calming words of women and the busy hisses of girls herding the animals.
Meshullam dragged the donkey behind him and made sure he kept his younger brother Shimei in sight. Mother would be furious if anything happened to her baby. Shimei was a good brother, really, but Meshullam thought that Mother spoiled him too much. She always fussed over him.
Now he ran off again!
“Hey! Shimei, come back here!”
Shimei reluctantly came back from behind the bush where he seemed to have discovered something.
“Why?” he asked.
Meshullam didn’t give an answer, just looked at Shimei and said, “Come along.”
Shimei trotted beside the donkey for a while. Soon he had his hands on the load, fiddling with the ropes. The animal turned its head in protest.
“Leave it!” Meshullam yelled.
“Why?” Shimei grabbed hold of a bag and hung onto it, swinging his legs under the donkey. With a sudden jerk the load shifted, Shimei let go and fell hard on his bottom. The donkey stopped. Luckily the load had not fallen off. But Shimei started crying.
“I told you to stop it,” Meshullam snapped.
Shimei only cried louder. Some of the older men that passed them looked at Shimei in disapproval.
“Be quiet!” Meshullam told Shimei.
Shimei did reduce his volume somewhat but continued crying. Meshullam busied himself securing the load again. There were also jars on the donkey’s back. What if they had fallen and broken?
Shimei finally calmed down and they were ready to join the drawn-out group again when they saw Mother and the girls coming. Shimei ran towards her, seeking comfort from her. She set down the bundle she carried, took him up in her arms and embraced him.
“What is it Shimei? What has happened?”
Shimei just buried his face in her dress and put his arms around her neck.
“He thought it was funny to hang from the donkey and drag the load down. When it shifted he fell and hit his bottom. That’s why he’s crying,” Meshullam told her.
“But Shimei! Don’t you know you shouldn’t do that?” she scolded him gently. She hugged him again tightly and set him down. Picking up her bundle she told him to go with Meshullam again.
“We’re walking a long way today, Shimei. Just stay with Meshullam.”
Somewhat unwillingly Shimei went to Meshullam and walked along behind him. At least for a while he was quiet.
* * *
Rivkah let her eyes rest on the horizon for a moment. Across the hills the city of Mareshah was clearly visible. The mound rose prominently among the dark-green belt of olive groves surrounding the city. In a land dried out by the summer heat, the trees provided a stark contrast to the brown fields and pasture around them. The whitewashed houses of Mareshah stood out in this landscape. Rivkah had taken the street outside the citadel yard today to walk to the well. Under her arm she carried the empty jar. She always enjoyed this view over the hill country. The rolling hills, wide open spaces and then this city on a mound that looked nearly symmetrical. She knew the place wasn’t as large as Lachish, not as well-fortified. Most people here didn’t speak well of Mareshah at all. It was considered a cultural backwater, a “peasant hole.” Still, it looked pretty from the distance.
Rivkah wondered whether they were harvesting their olives this year. Or did the Assyrians combing the countryside prevent it? At least the olive trees were still standing. Around Lachish the Assyrians had chopped down the trees and destroyed all the orchards. Maybe the same disaster would yet strike Mareshah.
As Rivkah walked further down the street, the city wall and nearby houses blocked the view over the landscape. Pushing any musings about Assyrians or neighboring cities out of her mind she quickened her step. Not far to the well now. She noticed a few other women ahead of her on their way to get water. She followed them down the steps to the northeast corner of the city. A tower guarded this section of the city wall. The well was in its basement.
* * *
Rivkah placed the water jar on her head. She had listened long enough to the chatter of the women at the well. Everyone talked about the siege these days. Some thought that they would be able to hold out, that help would arrive from Jerusalem or from Egypt. Others believed that they were all doomed to die, that the Assyrians would conquer the city. One woman even thought that this was the calamity foretold by the prophets. Rivkah shuddered. Was there no hope?
She did not like this war. Nothing was the same anymore. All the life had gone out of the city. The little shops along the main road were all closed. In the past she had stopped and looked at the jewelry. How she had longed to get one of those bangles. She had watched the potter shape the clay on the wheel. Back then, the little shops and street vendors had been eager
