The Gods Look Down (15 page)

Hophni said woodenly, ‘Did the Ark plant crops? Did it harvest them so that we could eat? How did it find water in the desert?'

‘It is not meant for us to know these things,' said his father.
We don't possess the wisdom to understand the ways of God. But by believing in Him we have received his bountiful mercy and protection through many generations. Uzza is right: the evidence that these things came to pass is all around us if we have eyes to see.'

‘I have eyes,' Phinehas said glibly. ‘But have you?' A smirk that was more of a grimace hovered on one side of his face.

‘The Prophet Kish,' Hophni said, flexing his broad shoulders. ‘We hear every day of his, prophecies but nothing ever comes of them. Nobody appears, no miracles happen, no Saviour comes. Are we supposed to wait forever?'

‘The Saviour will not come until His time,' Uzza said quietly. ‘If you bothered to read the Scriptures you'd know that.'

‘Don't lecture me,' Hophni said, becoming red in the face. ‘I've read the Scriptures. They say things will happen but they never do.' He smacked his meaty palms together. ‘Why do we need a Saviour anyway? What is He supposed to save us from?' He looked at his brother.

The High Priest gazed blindly in front of him. ‘From ourselves if need be. He is the true light who will lead us along the path of righteousness. All men are weak, all men have sinned; it is only through our belief in His Divine Grace that we will find salvation.'

Phinehas made a grotesque face again, this time in a fit of sulky ill temper, like a childish tantrum. ‘Yes of course, father,' he said sweetly, his words at odds with his contorted expression. ‘Anything you say, father.'

Eli held out his right hand and at this signal Uzza stepped forward and helped him rise. ‘I must go into the silent inner chamber. An old man has so little time left to pray. Lead me forward, Uzza.'

‘Pray for us, father,' Phinehas said.

‘I will do that, my son.'

They went out, the High Priest leaning on the arm of the young man and staring sightlessly ahead.

‘I wish he'd hurry up and die.' Hophni folded his arms and grasped his biceps, digging his thumbs into the hard muscular swellings.

‘That will still leave you and me, dear brother,' said Phinehas
with a charming smile. ‘Supposing he drops down dead without having named his successor? Are we to fight one another for the privilege?'

‘I am the eldest,' Hophni said. It was flat and without emotion, a statement of fact.

‘The High Priest must choose. That is the law.'

‘We shall see.'

‘We shall indeed see.'

‘He will choose me.'

‘In a blue moon,' said Phinehas, and threw up his hands. ‘What's the point in squabbling about it? He won't die, he'll hang on till he's 150. He's tough as an old goat and just as stubborn.'

‘I could throttle him with my bare hands.'

‘Well done. Good thinking. What a brilliant mind you have. Then we'd be cast out and left to shrivel in the desert like camel dung. A few bleached bones and a couple of empty skulls.'

Hophni lifted his leg and farted and wafted the odour away with his heavy blunt hands. ‘I'm not prepared to wait forever,' he snarled.

‘Well now, dear brother,' Phinehas said, stepping up to the High Priest's chair and sitting down, wrapping the cloak around his legs. ‘There are others who would like to see him dispatched to his Maker – for a price.'

Hophni frowned stupidly. ‘Others?' he said. ‘Here in the city? The people of Shiloh?'

‘Not the people of Shiloh.' Phinehas almost groaned with the tedium of having to explain everything at the level a child of ten would understand. ‘The people of Shiloh would sooner gaze into the sun all day than harm a hair on his head.' He leaned forward and his voice became soft and low. ‘There's a tribe nine days' journey from here, to the south, across the desert plateau, who dwell in a city called Ashdod.'

‘I've heard of it.'

‘Marvellous,' said his brother. ‘Who would have known.'

‘Don't mock me,' Hophni warned him. ‘I'm just in the mood to wring a neck or two.' He swung his heavy arms to and fro.

‘
Listen
. Shut up and listen. In the temple at Ashdod there is a god, worshipped by the people of that tribe. He and his
people will be the instrument of our release from this tiresome burden: they too desire to number the days of our beloved father, the High Priest Eli.'

‘Why? For what reason?'

‘I told you – for a price.'

Hophni was suspicious. ‘What price? What do they want?'

‘They want the Ark,' Phinehas said, beaming all over his face. ‘They want that pile of useless old junk in the silent inner chamber. Now of course Eli will never agree to it and so they will have to kill him to get it. Do you see how simple it is, how neat? And we'll be rid of him!'

‘That's all?' Hophni said. He didn't seem entirely convinced. ‘What do they want it for? What use is it to them?'

‘Don't ask me, I don't know. As the Dagonites – ask Dagon himself. Anyway, what does it matter? They will come to take it, Eli and the people will resist, he'll be killed along with a few thousand others and that will leave only you and me. Dear brother.'

‘I still don't understand,' Hophni said, his brows drawn together. ‘How do you know this?'

Phinehas was grinning. ‘I know because I've spoken with the emissary of Dagon. He's in the city at this moment. He sought me out.'

‘He sought
you
out? The son of the High Priest? Why should he do that?'

‘Perhaps,' Phinehas said impishly, ‘because I sent for him.' He looked at Hophni's face for a moment and sighed and shook his head. ‘You make everything such hard work, dear brother. Do you understand what I'm saying? Do you?'

‘You sent for him,' Hophni said slowly. He was nodding. ‘Yes, I understand that.'

‘Good.'

‘But why?'

‘Oh God,' said Phinehas. ‘This is going to take hours.'

‘Then – dear brother – it is going to take hours,' Hophni said, looking at him with a fixed and intense expression which was not to be avoided.

*

The emissary of the Dagonites appeared in the temple on the following day.

Phinehas had gone to his father saying that an important visitor had arrived, seeking private audience with the High Priest, and Eli, as ever courteous to strangers and conscious of his responsibility, had agreed to meet him. From the beginning he knew there was something odd about the man from the tone and pitch of his voice (it was muffled and at the same time hollow as if he were speaking into a copper vessel) but he couldn't guess the extent of the emissary's strange appearance until Uzza described it to him.

‘His body is deformed and he stands awkwardly, one shoulder raised,' the young man murmured in the ear of the High Priest. ‘He doesn't breathe as normal men do but sucks the air through a tube which is in the upper part of his chest, a shiny conduit from his chest to his mouth.' He didn't have the words to describe him adequately. ‘His voice, as you can hear, sounds distant, like a faint echo.'

‘And where is he from?' Eli asked gently.

‘He says he is a Dagonite from the city of Ashdod.'

‘Then if he comes in humility he is welcome to our temple.' He looked to where he knew the visitor stood and raised his voice. ‘The High Priest of Shiloh sends greetings to your Lord who resides in the city of Ashdod. Let there be peace and goodwill between our two peoples.'

The Dagonite emissary didn't respond. He stood before the High Priest, his breathing hoarse in the tube. He was a huge man, even though twisted, with a single sharp protuberance, which gave him the appearance of a hunchback.

Uzza was disquieted by the man's sullen behaviour. He called out, ‘It is customary in our city to show respect before the office of the High Priest.'

‘I bow to no one but the god Dagon.' The words were forced from his throat with a great effort and his breathing was hollow and rasping in the tube, like a harsh sigh. He looked towards Phinehas for a moment, whose face betrayed no emotion, and then said, ‘The god Dagon is the most powerful in all this land. He sends to know if the people of Shiloh acknowledge him as the one true god. His power is eternal, his vengeance swift and terrible, but his mercy is prodigal to those who truly believe in him.'

And now he waited, this sighing hulk of a man, having delivered
his speech, as someone who is trained by rote to speak and then must pause to await a response.

Eli said, ‘Is your god not content with his own people? Are they not worthy of him, or he of them?' His eyes, veiled with rheumy whiteness, roamed blankly round the temple as if searching for something. ‘Does he seek other subjects to pay him the respect his own brethren do not?'

‘The god Dagon is the one true god. He sends to know if the people of Shiloh—'

‘I think we understood the first time,' Uzza said. His voice trembled with a furious rage which he tried to contain. ‘You come to our city and are received with kindness and in good faith, and straightaway you betray those sentiments and insult the hospitality shown you. Is this how your “god” instructs the people of Ashdod to behave?'

‘The god Dagon means you no harm,' the emissary said in his hollow rasping voice. ‘He sends me to tell you that you need have no fear. But it is reported to him that the people of Shiloh worship false idols and that you have in your keeping a device of ancient days, said to have come from heaven – is this not so?'

He looked again at Phinehas as if seeking confirmation of this fact. The younger son glanced towards his father in sly expectation. Hophni stood nearby, glowering and flexing his thick forearms.

‘Why should this concern your god?' Eli asked. ‘It is true that we possess such an object, revered by our tribe, which has belonged to us for many generations. We keep it here in the temple as a symbol of our faith.'

‘It is sacrilegious to worship false idols,' the emissary said tonelessly. ‘The god Dagon is displeased with the people of Shiloh and sends me to take from you the false image and to set in its place his own likeness. His power is eternal, his vengeance—'

‘Swift and terrible, yes we know,' Eli said, and Uzza was surprised to see a faint smile on his face. The High Priest went on, ‘If your god believes the image to be false why does he not want it destroyed?' Again the smile.

‘That is his order: to cast out all false idols.'

‘But not to have them destroyed? That seems very strange. You have been told to take it with you to the city of
Ashdod; is Dagon so afraid of the idol that he must see it for himself?'

The Dagonite emissary shuffled his feet as if embarrassed or lost for words. His breathing rustled in the tube. He raised his dim strangely-coloured eyes and looked towards Phinehas as if in need of guidance.

Phinehas said easily, ‘From what the emissary says it would seem that Dagon is a warlike god who will only be appeased if we relinquish the Ark to him.'

‘Yes,' the Dagonite mumbled. ‘Yes, that is right. That is my message.'

‘You interpret for him very well,' Uzza said dryly, casting a sidelong glance at the younger son.

‘I have a well developed understanding of people.'

‘And of gods, apparently.'

Hophni said sullenly, ‘Is the god Dagon prepared to go to war for the sake of the Ark? Is this all he requires, that we cease to worship false idols?'

‘The Ark is not a false idol and I will not allow my son to call it so,' Eli said. He tried to rise and Uzza went quickly to support him. When he spoke the emotion had gathered in his throat. ‘The Ark is the handiwork of God, sent down from heaven to protect our Tribe, and you disgrace my name and His holy temple when you blaspheme in that manner. We shall never give it up – as Kish, First of the Prophets, is my witness!'

‘We may have to,' Phinehas remarked casually, ‘The Dagonites are a powerful tribe. They are geared for war. How can we withstand them if they decide to attack?'

Eli sank back, his head vibrating with the palsy of old age. He spoke quietly, almost inwardly it seemed. ‘What fools I have raised in place of sons. Do you not see that our strength and salvation is in the Ark? Why do you suppose Dagon wants to possess it? He knows of its power and he wants the Ark for himself.'

‘I haven't seen much evidence of its power recently, have you?' Phinehas said to his brother.

‘I have never seen it,' Hophni answered dully. ‘That's if it exists.'

‘Do you doubt it?' Uzza said. An idea had come to him and he was shaking inside.

‘I doubt what I've never seen.'

‘Then perhaps you should see it,' Uzza said. ‘And the emissary of Dagon also. If he returns with evidence of its power perhaps his god will think twice before mounting an attack on a “defenceless” people.'

Phinehas came up to where his father sat; his face had darkened; he said sharply, ‘How is it that Uzza speaks so confidently about the Ark? Has he seen its power for himself? Have you shown him things you have not revealed to us, your own flesh and blood?'

‘Uzza has the wisdom to understand many things,' Eli said. He sounded tired.

‘Do you mean that we're stupid?' Hophni stepped up alongside his brother. His heavy square jaw was set rigidly.

Uzza bowed his head. ‘I'm sorry, I have betrayed your trust. You asked me not to speak of such things.'

‘Speak of what?' Phinehas demanded, looking from the young man to the old. ‘What are these things you're keeping from us? Are we your sons or aren't we? Don't we have a right to know?'

‘It's me who should know if anyone,' Hophni said, sticking his lower lip out. ‘I'm to be the next High Priest.'