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 fed on the wood and singed the leather. Smoke rose from the burning heap, drifted against the city wall, was spread upwards, and clouded the sky. The stench was penetrating.
Itur-Ea worked feverishly. He drenched the left side of his siege machine. He had to protect it. It would be a disaster if this machine too was severely damaged or caught fire. He could feel the heat. How much more could it take? At this rate the water in the caldron wouldn’t last long. He was able to get the captain’s attention. “Captain, we require more water, sir.”
“Urgent?”
“Yes sir, priority two.”
The captain sent a messenger with the request.
The worry must have distracted him, for Itur-Ea did not see the rock that struck his helmet. In pain, he let go of the ladle and fell onto the deck. Everything seemed to disappear into a haze and stars of light danced before his eyes. Itur-Ea willed himself to crawl to the caldron. He splashed water over his face. Still dazed, he stood up slowly. As he looked over the side he again became aware of the fire smoldering not far away. No time to waste! He grabbed the ladle.
It seemed like an eternity until a mule with jars of water arrived. Making its way through the rows was not easy. The siege machine captain helped to haul the jar onto the upper deck before pouring the water into the caldron. As the mule made its way to the next machine it went down, pierced by arrows.
The siege machine shook. It had been struck by a large stone. Itur-Ea could hear it groan and creak, but the bracing did not give way. They must have launched more boulders, thought Itur-Ea close to panic. But as he peered forward he realized that the rocks now falling down on them were not thrown by men. They had been dislodged out of the wall. It was finally crumbling! An avalanche of stones fell around the siege machines as a whole section of the wall gave way. The wooden galleries on top of the wall dropped down, the defenders scurrying to flee the collapsing structures. The inner side of the wall still stood—strong, yet damaged and vulnerable.
The Assyrian storm troops seized the opportunity and climbed over the rubble, scaling the wall. After the initial shock, the men of Lachish defended the breach violently. Dozens of Assyrians fell by their swords. But wave after wave of attackers pushed forward, climbing over fallen comrades and foes.
Around the city, the Assyrian army stormed the walls. Ladders were carried up and leaned against the walls. And the first attackers began to penetrate Lachish.
* * *
As Simchah moved the grindstone back and forth, Rivkah poured grains of barley onto the quern. They were gathered up in Simchah’s next movement, crushed under the stone and ground to flour.
“Put a few more on, Rivkah!”
“Hey, the flour will be far too coarse if I pour on too much barley at a time. And I don’t want to be around when your mother looks at the flour then.”
“But just look how much we still have to do!” Simchah nodded towards the bowl of barley beside Rivkah.
“Not that much, really.” Rivkah drew up her eyebrows. “I wished we had more. At least then we would get bigger chunks of bread.”
“I suppose you’re right. But why do I have to do it now?” Simchah complained.
“I
