Sunrise on the Mediterranean (23 page)

“I hid them,” he said. “They still work. Get the holy man.”

The group was almost within hearing distance. I met and held the gaze of the leader, while speaking from the side of my mouth.
“Weren’t you robbed? Beaten? How do you still have them?”

“You don’t,” he said firmly, “want the details.”

I didn’t have time to consider it; the highlanders were here.

Our two groups stared at each other. There were five of them versus the three of us. The odds alone should make them feel
better. Of the five, one looked like a Klingon, straight out of Cammy’s newer
Star Trek
series. Two of them were twins. Another wore a white robe beneath his breastplate. The fifth was the leader. He had green
eyes and curling black hair. Although he wasn’t tall, he was beautifully proportionate. All the men had beards and curls that
fell over their ears and down their chests.

The scaled bronze armor must have been extremely hot, even over the kilts and shirts they wore. They were definitely dressed
for the mountains, not the beach. I rose to my feet, extending a hand to the leader. Touch was important, my father always
said. Touch and perspective.

Pray God I would use both well.

“Welcome to Ashqelon,” I heard myself say in our common language. “
B’vakasha
, seat yourself. There is entertainment and refreshments for your men in that tent.” I gestured to a pitched tent just out
of earshot. I motioned for Cheftu to bring an extra chair for one of them. The leader would have to choose which man would
stay with him. That choice should reveal a lot about him and how flexible he was willing to be on this matter.

“Yoav ben Zerui’a is my name,” the black-haired one said. “Ashqelon is a doomed city,
isha.
Your god Dagon is weak.”

I opened my mouth to say, “I am
haDerkato.
” However, what came out was, “The
Derkato
is my name.” I couldn’t say “I am”? How weird. “Would you like wine? Beer?”

“I do not enter
b’rith
with the uncircumcised.”

I looked up at him. “Would you really want me to be circumcised?”

His lips twitched, but I thought he was trying to keep from laughing. I felt slightly encouraged.

“
B’vakasha
,” I said, “sit.”

Cheftu returned with a chair for the other man. The one in white took it. He had the look of an ascetic, dark and lean, nervous.
He twisted his beard, watching as Yoav—Joab in the Western rendering—and I spoke. This was David’s henchman? He seemed quite
civilized.

Reluctantly the two men sat, perched on the edges of their chairs. I would guess Yoav to be in his late thirties, early forties.
The other man was probably not yet thirty. The twins and Klingon strode away, escorted by Tamera. They kept an eye on us.

I hoped that Yoav would be reasonable now. Perhaps without an audience, no preening male egos, the bartering would go better.

“The battle in the Refa’im was cleverly fought,” I said. “The use of natural phenomena, the wind through the trees, to make
it sound as though a war machine were moving through the forest, was quite brilliant.”

“It was the plan of our God.”

“Which your army enacted well,” I concluded. We sat in silence. My father always said that silence worked like a corkscrew.
Over time it would open even the tightest lips. So we sat and stared at each other. Yoav was bold, his eyes moving over my
body with lustful intent. It’s just another way to psych me out, I thought. I refused to blush, just let him make a fool of
himself.

Cheftu was cool, standing at the edge of the tent, pitcher in hand. The muscles of his upper body were tense. I had no doubt
that even one second of distress from me would lead to the murder of Yoav. It was kind of a nice feeling, because I really
was intimidated. The wind blew, and we stared at each other. Occasionally, just because this had grown so ridiculous, I would
smile at them.

Yoav looked away first. Ha! Score for the chick in the fish suit!

The other man, who still hadn’t been introduced, smiled back. He looked like an overbred hunting dog. Lean and pointed. And
somehow familiar in the angles of his face, the set of his shoulders. Had I seen him before? His fingers never left his beard
alone, and side curls covered his ears, down to his chest.

Sweat dripped down my back. It must be sometime in March, I guessed. Already it was hot. Finally Yoav sat forward. “The Pelesti
are done,” he said. “Your god is weak, you have no more soldiers, you are no longer a threat to us.”

“Then go on your way and leave us in peace,” I said. “You won.”

He blinked. I guessed that capitulation was not the accustomed response. After a quick glance at the man in white, he spoke
again. “I cannot do that. It is
herim;
therefore all who have breath are
hal.
”

“Is this move against Ashqelon your decision or your king’s?”

“Mine.”

“Therefore, you are the king of this battlefield?”

His eyes narrowed. He spoke more slowly. “
Ken.
”

“Gezer is destroyed, is it not?”

“
Ken.
Razed to the ground. It was
hal.
”

“What cities of my people remain?”

“Lakshish, Qisilee, Yaffo, Ashdod, and Ashqelon.”

“How many men of fighting age do you think remain?” He tugged at his sidelock, musing. “The men from Lakshish and Ashdod served
with the
seren
Yamir,
nachon
?”

The lexicon jumped in with a flashcard.
Nachon
meant everything from “exactly” to “this is correct?” to “bingo!” I gathered he was using the middle term. I nodded. “Yaffo
and Qisilee are mostly fishing towns,” I said. “From there we import the very luxury items that your king and people desire.”
Now I leaned forward. “Your people are highlanders. You are farmers, husbandmen with fields, cattle, and vineyards.”

He leaned back, not a good sign. “
B’seder.
”

“Without us, you will not have the finely dyed cloth you wear now,” I said, indicating the red tunic he wore beneath his armor.
“Without us, your temples and high places will stink, for there will be no myrrh, no incenses, no spices. These are things
we bring from far shores.”

His eyes were opaque, like green beach glass. “Most important,” I said, leaning back, “we have iron.”

“We will wipe you from the face of the land, then iron will not matter.”

“Eventually Pharaoh will awaken from his slumbers,” I said. “Those who live north, in Tsor and Tsidon, will cast an eye your
way. Our cousins from across
haYam
will lust after your fields. They all have iron.

“Between their seagoing ships, which will land on your shores—because if you ‘wipe us from the face of the land,’ then they
will
be
your shores—their chariots, which can invade right up to the hills of your kingdom, their never-ending supply of men, food,
and horses, for they are nations, not some petty kingdom whose mountain god fights for them, they will splinter your bronze
swords with one hand, while they take your land, your women, and your totems with the other.

“We are your security zone, protecting you from marauders going east. We are your armory, and we are your merchants. We have
your harbors in Ashqelon, Yaffo, and Qisilee; we have your weapons in Lakshish, Ashqelon, and Ashdod. You don’t have the skills
or the manpower to replace us.”

The man in white leapt to his feet. “She insults us!” he shouted. “She parades her god before us, shames
el ha
Shaday! We must not listen to this!”

“Seat yourself, N’tan,” Yoav barked. “She speaks economic truths.” He glowered at me.

Sweat was dripping down my spine. I didn’t dare look at Cheftu or out to sea. I stared at Yoav fixedly. Give us a break, I
thought. Please!

He was silent for a long time. It was torture. Should I have said something else? Should I not have been so snide? Should
I have begged for mercy? I was growing to know his features as well as my own, I’d been looking at him so long. If he’d had
fewer scars, he would have been kind of handsome. As it was, he just looked rakish, a little piratical. “It is a matter of
face,” he said. “The Pelesti have attacked us again and again.”

“You said yourself, there are no men left.”

“If all the women are like you, I wonder if men are necessary for a war,” he muttered.

I chose to be complimented.

“What do you want?” he said. “What do you hope to get from me, from my tribesmen?”

“Our lives,” I said simply. “Our cities and our lives. Already you have taken our husbands, brothers, and fathers. Our
seren
and his mother were also slain by you. Allow us to live here, that is all.”

His gaze shifted off me to the walled city behind me. The white buildings were stacked like blocks, the sunlight casting blue
shadows from the windows and doors. Flowers had just started to bloom, cascading from window boxes, trees, and pots. “It is
a beautiful place,” he said. “To the south you have a safe harbor.”

“
Ken.
But it is useless to a people who terrace their hills and know nothing of ships.”

“I want the secret of smelting. Teach us how to make iron.”

Never say no.
My father’s words echoed through my head. No is the end of any negotiation. Lie if you must, twist the truth, but never say
no. I licked my dry lips. “What would stop you from learning our secrets, then killing us anyway?”

He twisted one of the curls before his ears. “Nothing.” His focus was on me again, laser beam eyes in green. “You must trust
us.”

“You must swear by your god,” I said. “That is an abomination to use the name of our god in swearing!”

I shrugged. “It is the only thing you hold dear. It is the only proof that you will keep your bargain.”

“That’s not all I want,” he said.

I was afraid of that. “What else?”

“Your princeling must die.”

Not Wadia, he was a boy! I had to bite back my emphatic no. “You have killed all his brothers, his father and mother, why
not let the boy be? He is a child.”

“He can piss against the wall; he is a man. He will grow to lead the Pelesti against us again.” His eyes spoke honestly. “My
lord king Dadua has more to do than battle the Pelesti, as one swats at mosquitoes, every spring.”

“If Wadia swears not to attack?” I said. I heard the edge of desperation in my voice and cursed it.

“What is to keep him from breaking his word? What assurance have I?” Yoav asked.

“Because, though he is young, he is a man of honor.” Yoav leaned back, stretching his legs out, close to mine. Was that on
purpose or accident? “I will take that wine now,” he said. Cheftu was pouring it before he had finished his request. Yoav
took it from Cheftu and handed it to me. “Drink first, as a courtesy.”

Knowing it wasn’t poisoned, I took a sip. It was tart, refreshing, and completely safe. I handed it to him. “Unlike you, we
observe the laws of hospitality.”

He downed the cup, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Unlike you, we offer it only to those who are kin and
can be trusted.”

This man was getting to me.
Calm down, Chloe.
Cheftu handed me a cup, and I drank it as quickly as Yoav, though more neatly. I set down my cup, my challenge clear. “What
are your terms, Yoav?”

“The secrets of smelting. Your continued service as purveyors and merchants. Decampment of the valleys. We will man those
watchtowers instead. Only the towns of Ashqelon, Ashdod, and Yaffo will remain whole.”

They would take the countryside? “What of Lakshish? Qisilee?”

“My tribesmen will move in with the Pelesti in those cities. We will have our own temples, worship our god, and learn from
your people the skills of smelting, pottery, dyeing … these frivolous details that are significant to a nation of any size.”

A peaceful invasion. “What of Wadia?”

His gaze narrowed on me, then moved to the water behind me, the waves washing onto the shore. “I’ll take you instead.”

Adrenaline flooded me, leaving me suddenly cold, almost shivering. “Me?”

“You are the leader of Ashqelon. If you are removed, then they will have no one to follow. Moreover, if you are our hostage,
then young Wadia will be held in check with his actions.”

“That will not matter if you kill me,” I said. My voice still sounded okay, which was a miracle. I was reeling.

He smiled. “I do not want you dead, I want your arrogant hands serving me.”

Somewhere a pitcher dropped, shattered.

“What?”

“You,
haDerkato
, will be the ultimate trophy,” he said with a wolfish smile. “A goddess serving as a slave in my household.”

“My husband … ,” I whispered, stunned.

He shrugged. “You are of an uncircumcised race. I will be no Samson to be led astray by Pelesti charms.” His look was derisive.
“Your husband can be as easily enslaved. You can mate and give me more slaves, I care not.” He turned his cup over, a signal
of completion. “But you will serve me.”

It was me or Wadia? How did I get in this mess? This wasn’t my problem! Shit, shit, shit. “What of the city, the people?”
The few who were still alive.

“For the sake of my face, my pride, I must kill the remaining men.”

I opened my mouth to protest, then shut it. “Go on.”

“I will take half the population into slavery, in addition to taking all your slaves.”

Half the remaining women, I thought, and Cheftu among others. “Go on.”

“We will burn half your fields, but leave the city untouched.”

I swallowed. “Go on.”

“Lakshish will be untouched, but I will move my men into the fields between here and there.”

I was right! He was going to take over the countryside, hole up the Pelesti in their cities like ghettos. Comfortable, nice
ghettos, but the same idea.

“Lakshish will offer us homes in time for harvest. It will be the same with Qisilee. Ashdod, well, I think the lesson of Ashqelon—”

“You mean the destruction of Ashqelon.”