daughter-in-law.
“Good. I hope you’re not too thirsty after carrying all that. There’s not much water left. Somebody will have to get some more.”
“Rivkah will get some water after lunch, Naarah,” Ayalah assured her.
While little Tilon crawled around the cave, the three women prepared the salad washing the leaves, then tearing them into little pieces. They added roasted fennel seeds and thickened milk.
Soon the men drifted in. Joab had been lucky and had found some clay to make pottery. He told them that this clay was better than the one he had discovered previously.
“It’s also a bit easier to dig out: the soil’s softer.” And while he discussed with Naarah and Ayalah what dishes would be needed, Amnon and Achan turned up.
They had been out hunting, but did not have much to show for it. A thrush had been caught in the bird trap that Amnon had made from sticks. All the nets were empty. But they had collected quite a few worms and reset the traps.
“I think we’ll get some decent catches in the next few days.”
Amnon turned to Rivkah, “If you see any worms, pick them up. We really need them. You should find a few now after the rain. Outside, just beside the entrance, there’s a jar with soil and some food scraps. That’s where we keep them.”
“One thrush is not much for dinner,” Naarah remarked.
“We’ll see whether we can get some more,” Amnon remarked. “Swallows are best caught in the late afternoon.”
Joab and Amnon complimented the women on the fresh salad.
“I suppose that’s what we’ll have to live on now.” Achan didn’t seem pleased hearing that. He only nibbled hesitantly on the leaves.
Chapter 6
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,
