LITMIR.BIZ

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hands across the limp body. She saw the knife wounds in his side out of which the blood still flowed. She did not try to stop it. Leaning down she kissed the dog’s head. Tears welled up and fell on his nose.

      “He really is a hero, a warrior.” Bath-Shua had come and knelt beside Rivkah. “He fought to protect you. He fought bravely and with courage. But he paid a warrior’s price: he gave his life.” Bath-Shua touched Kaleb. Rivkah didn’t move. The words hardly got through to her. She struggled for breath as her throat closed. Finally the loud sobs broke out of her chest. She cried freely now, broken only by moans of anguish. Bath-Shua let her be.

      When Rivkah’s breathing became more regular and her weeping ebbed, Bath-Shua got up. “Come, we must bury him now.”

      Rivkah shook her head. She wasn’t ready to bury Kaleb. She wanted him to live. Was he really dead?

      Bath-Shua stood by as Rivkah fondled Kaleb’s fur. The flow of blood was starting to dry.

      Bath-Shua looked around worried. She put her hand on Rivkah’s shoulder and said: “Rivkah, we really can’t leave him here. There’s not much time. A warrior like Kaleb deserves a burial. We have to do it.”

      Rivkah looked at her blankly. She gathered the will to get up and wiped the tears from her eyes.

      Bath-Shua leaned down. “We’ll carry him over there to the collapsed wall.” She indicated the pile of rubble with her head. When Rivkah didn’t move she added, “Help me, Rivkah.”

      Rivkah lifted Kaleb’s head and held him by his front legs. Together they carried him to the wall. Bath-Shua’s nice clothes became stained with the dog’s blood. She didn’t seem to notice.

      Carefully they put Kaleb’s body down in front of the fallen house wall. Bath-Shua moved away the stones and mud bricks to make a space in the rubble. “We have to lift him in here.” They laid Kaleb in the hollow. Rivkah stroked his head one last time. She didn’t look as Bath-Shua piled stones and bricks on the dog. “Here rests a great warrior,” Bath-Shua said. She mumbled a short prayer and cursed anyone who would disturb the burial place. Then she took Rivkah’s hand. “We have been in the street for too long. We have to hide. What if the soldiers return?” Bath-Shua led Rivkah back to the shed. At the entrance she turned and said, “If you stand up you can see Kaleb’s grave from here.” Rivkah looked. She sighed and then sat down, leaning with her back against the wall.

      Chapter 4

      After the citadel of Lachish had fallen and its defenders massacred, Sennacherib gave the city over to looting and plunder. With no temple in Lachish, there was no grand ceremony leading the gods out of the city. Normally, the temple also held the greatest riches of a city. The temples of Nineveh would not receive any treasures from Lachish. Of course, there would be some valuables in the fort. Some soldiers counted on finding treasures there; others thought that the residential quarters might yield more. Rummaging through houses to find anything valuable, they destroyed whatever came across their path. Greed and a lust for destruction seized them.

      Itur-Ea sat on a stone gazing beyond the miserable mass of captives. The bite wound hurt. He had been sent to escort some prisoners out of the city and had now ended up among the guards watching the vanquished Judahites. Maybe that was his duty as a professional. Meanwhile the auxiliaries, who had been provided for the war effort by Assyria’s client kings and governors, plundered the city. Quick to loot and quick to flee! Those amateurs were all the same. You couldn’t rely on them in the heat of battle, but when they saw the opportunity to enrich themselves there was no holding them back.

      Itur-Ea knew he would receive a handsome share of the spoils of war at the end of the campaign. Earlier in the campaign he had already had the luck of snatching a few precious ornaments from the city of Timnah. Still, it grated him that he had to sit here.

      “Sit down,” Itur-Ea snapped. The child looked at him with a blank expression. Itur-Ea stood up and drew his dagger. The child’s mother dragged it down to her and Itur-Ea sat down again. He needed to rest. It had been a long day. Another sip from the water flask felt good. But still, somehow, he would have preferred to be in action. He felt so far away from Ishtar at the moment. All the excitement had drained from him.

      * * *

      They hadn’t talked much. The death of Kaleb had shattered Rivkah even more than the Assyrian invasion of the city. She sat there numb and weak, her eyes unfocused. Several times she felt like getting up and running—anywhere. But she couldn’t gather the strength to get to her feet. Even though she felt like crying, the tears which had flowed so freely before had now dried up.

      Bath-Shua sat further inside the shed and watched Rivkah with concern. She seemed to sense that now was not the time for more stories, but did not know how to help. Rivkah was grateful she left her to grieve. Somehow she did not resent Bath-Shua anymore. In these few hours they had been through too much together. And Bath-Shua really seemed to care for her. Who else could she trust in the middle of this war now?

      From somewhere Bath-Shua got out some bread. She gave Rivkah a piece. “Eat, you must be hungry.” Rivkah shook her head. She didn’t feel like eating. But Bath-Shua insisted, “Rivkah, eat something! It’ll give you the energy to keep going. You have to stay strong.”

      Hesitantly, Rivkah took the bread. It seemed she had to eat it. When she took the first bite she suddenly realized how hungry she really was and quickly ate the rest.

      “Do you have more bread?” Something like a sudden panic overcame Rivkah.

      “Just a little. We’ll have to keep that for later,” answered Bath-Shua.

      What were they going to eat after that? “Just one piece of bread? How are we going to survive?” The dire situation they were in overwhelmed Rivkah.

      “We won’t stay here forever. Remember, Rivkah, that the LORD is able to make a thousand loaves out of one piece of bread. He is a god that provides. Never forget that, Rivkah! Even in your darkest moments, even in times like these, don’t give up.”

      “Do you really think we can escape?”

      Cooped up in this little shed the chance of escaping the Assyrians seemed so remote.

      “I hope we can. We have to try. When they burn the city, that will be our best opportunity.”

      “Burn the city?”

      “That’s what they are bound to do. The Assyrians don’t leave a conquered city standing.”

      Every question seemed to bring to light more difficulties, but Bath-Shua knew of them already. And yet she appeared calm and hopeful.

      “Where will we go?”

      “Into the hills. We’ll find a place where we’re safe. Maybe we can even reach Hebron, the city of . . . ,” Bath-Shua didn’t finish the sentence. She didn’t want to mention the name of Kaleb again. But Rivkah knew. Thinking of him hurt. Still, the name of the city held a promise. It was as if Kaleb pointed to that city, that maybe there she would find safety and peace.

      “Do you think we’ll be safe from the Assyrians there?”

      “I believe so,” Bath-Shua answered. “The Assyrians have no reason to move against Hebron. And the LORD will never give the city of his servant to destruction.”

      “And then, will we ever return here?”

      “The Assyrians will not stay in the land forever. One day you may be able to return. It may be a long time until then. Now it is important to find a safe place. If you make it, Rivkah, remember you are a daughter of Lachish, a child of a once-great city. Let no one tell you otherwise. Do not let them destroy your dignity. Even as a refugee you are a woman worthy of respect. You come from a skilled family, from a city that guarded the entrance to the hill country, a city valued by the kings of Judah.”

      Bath-Shua looked at Rivkah, huddled against the bare, mud-brick wall.

      “And Rivkah, you know that you are a beautiful woman,

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