LITMIR.BIZ

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clearly wasn’t happy with Rivkah’s answer.

      “I’m hungry! Father, can I have some more? We must have some food in the house.”

      “You know there’s only enough for tomorrow morning. We’ll get a new ration in the afternoon. So be quiet. Maybe you really should eat your food a bit slower.”

      Father was emptying his bowl and cleaned it out with a small piece of stale bread. These days they didn’t have fresh bread anymore. Old bread was more filling.

      The whole family sat in a circle on the floor, Father on his ibex skin, the others just on the packed-mud floor of the upper storey. They always ate up here. It was much more pleasant than down in the workshop. Rivkah looked around. She was still hoping for an opportunity to quietly put some cooked barley to the side for Kaleb without anybody noticing. Shomer was busy feeding little Susannah. Nepheg was just explaining to Shallum how he could single-handedly defeat the entire Assyrian army. Mother was complaining loudly that she suspected they had not been given the full ration today. Nobody seemed to listen to her. Father certainly didn’t appear to. He had closed his eyes and leaned back, reclining on his right hand. With the left he stroked his beard. It was the perfect time! Rivkah took a small shard and scooped some gruel out of her bowl. She quickly hid it under a fold of her dress.

      “What are you doing there?” Of course, Shallum must see it!

      Rivkah inwardly screamed at her brother, Shut up! She could have strangled him. “Just eating.” Rivkah knew she was blushing.

      “Leave your sister alone and make sure your own bowl is clean.” Mother came to Rivkah’s rescue. She had heard enough complaints from the boys for one day. “But . . . ” Shallum began.

      Mother didn’t let him finish, “You won’t get any more tonight. So you better eat what you’ve got. I see your bowl is not that clean.”

      Shallum just looked at Rivkah in puzzlement but proceeded to lick his bowl as he had been told. Normally Mother would have scolded him for not using a piece of bread to wipe the bowl. But today they didn’t have enough bread.

      That was close! Rivkah was sure Shallum wouldn’t bring it up again during the meal. She just had to disappear immediately afterwards before he could ask any questions. Hopefully he would forget about it later on.

      After the meal, Father uttered a short prayer to Baal asking for an abundant supply of food. Everyone rose. It would have been Rivkah’s task to wash the dishes. But she had something else in mind. “I’ve got to go outside.” Nobody really seemed to listen, but Rivkah was already halfway down the ladder. Outside the house, she did turn towards the sewer but then walked further up the lane. Here she sat in the shadow of a wall and waited.

      It was dark by now. Stars shone in the night sky and a breeze rustled through the streets. The lane was quiet. In the distance she could hear the shouts of men and the subdued hum of a city under siege.

      And then he was there! A moist tongue licked her feet. “Kaleb!” Rivkah flung her arms around the dog and drew him close. He eagerly ate what she offered him. “I know it’s not much. A handful of barley and a small piece of bread. But it’s all I have. I have to eat something too.”

      Kaleb licked her hands. He seemed to understand, but clearly could have done with more. After a while he realized there was no more and stopped searching, just lying across Rivkah’s legs.

      “Oh, you’re still heavy enough. I thought you might have lost a bit of weight, Kaleb.” Rivkah stroked his fur. Kaleb snuggled against her. He was content and could have stayed there till morning.

      “Hey, old pal, I can’t stay too long. Have to go back to do the dishes. So you better get off.” Rivkah pushed him off her legs. Kaleb got to his feet reluctantly and shook himself from head to tail, as if he had just emerged from the side of a warm fire into the frosty air. He whimpered. He was no longer the fierce, wily dog, but more like a small puppy seeking comfort and warmth.

      “Kaleb, I’ll see you again tomorrow.” Rivkah caressed his ears. He trotted beside her, head down, as they walked along the lane. One last pat and Kaleb scampered off into the darkness. Before Rivkah entered the house she turned around and looked down the street and let her gaze wander across the starry sky above.

      * * *

      The city on the hill loomed dark ahead. Its towers and walls were clearly visible in the pale moonlight. The impressive fort in its centre rose above the jumbled assortment of houses crowding inside the city walls. No light came from the city. But round the base of the hill the odd fire flickered—evidence of the Assyrian army that had encircled Lachish.

      This was how it had been for the last two months—two whole months since they had first set up camp on this low hill. But tonight felt different. Itur-Ea paced the open platform of the camp tower. He had asked to have another look at the city before the attack tomorrow. Opposite him, the siege ramp rose steadily against the city mound. It still seemed impossibly steep, but they had brought their siege machines up that slope before.

      “Nervous?” The guard on watch grinned at Itur-Ea.

      “No, just assessing the likely direction of any possible major resistance. I have to know where the fire might come from.”

      “Right.” The guard didn’t look convinced. “You know,” he continued, “the king has consulted the gods and tomorrow is a favorable day. Ashur will grant us victory.”

      “Oh, I do not doubt that tomorrow is the perfect day. It’s just . . . you have to be prepared for battle.” How could Itur-Ea explain what he felt before a battle? Everything stirred within him. In battles he felt the presence of the great goddess Ishtar so acutely. In the night before a battle he always longed for the mystic union with Ishtar as he had experienced it in the temple of Nineveh.

      “Well, I’d better go back to the tent.” Itur-Ea nodded towards the guard. He had to be alone. He didn’t want anybody watching him right now. Nor did he need any glib comments. Placing his feet carefully on the ladder, he climbed down from the tower to the dark camp below. Finally he felt the ground under his feet. Turning around he walked past tents where soldiers were still making their last preparations for the battle ahead. He did not go to his tent immediately but, rather, felt his way to the siege machines. Placing his hand on the leather shell of his machine, he breathed in the scent he knew so well. It was darker here—no fires were nearby. And so the thoughts came flooding back.

      Itur-Ea was a follower of Ishtar, a worshipper of the goddess of war and love. He could still remember the first time he had gone to the temple. Its splendor was inspiring. The surroundings had awed him. The vivid pictures of the brazen and sensual goddess had set his heart racing. The chants and swirling clouds of incense had taken hold of his mind. The union with the temple maid had set his whole body aflame. And he had realized who Ishtar was, had felt her presence. He had taken his fill and was satisfied; he had given his everything and was spent. Life until then had just been a hazy drudge, but now he had burst into a new reality, a clarity of life as if he had finally surfaced from the dark, primeval waters.

      Itur-Ea had stumbled like a drunk when he walked back out onto the street. The encounter with Ishtar had overwhelmed him. And he had known that he was a new man—that he was a man. From then on he would return often to the temple. Yes, Ishtar was demanding—the temple fees were significant. Ishtar was fickle—his life was no longer so settled since he had devoted himself to her worship. But she had often blessed him these past years and he would continue to worship her as long as he could, as long as she did not turn against him or tired of him.

      His religious life had changed completely since he lived in Nineveh. Back in the village they had mainly worshipped Ea, the god of the deep and of wisdom. Each year at the festival of Nin-aha-kudu, the manifestation of Ea as the god of rivers and irrigated gardens, the image of the god and his daughter had been carried through the village. He himself was even named after the god—Itur-Ea: “Ea has become merciful”. While he had become excited as a boy when the festival of Nin-aha-kudu approached, it could not compare with the experience in the temple of Ishtar.

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