The Philistine Warrior (29 page)

“What?!”

“Yes, my Lords. Samson has—as you know—a…uh…shall we say, a
weakness
for women, especially for Philistine women. His

troops jested about that, even to his face. And it seems he’s fallen in love—as he calls it—with Her Majesty!”

We all looked at each other and at him, in wonderment and despair. “‘Love’?!” I spat out.

He resumed: “Not only is Her Majesty—if I may say so—very lovely, but she also has about her an innocent quality which has touched his heart. And his whole view of her is colored, you see, by his fear of Astarte, and his awe at Her Majesty’s rank, both as Queen and Priestess.”

“He wasn’t awed by the rank of Ekosh,” I interjected, acidly.

“No, but his murder of her husband has awakened some sense of guilt in him—because he now loves
her
. Or perhaps he fears the dead man’s ghost. In any event, m’Lords, when she insisted—with pious dignity—that she must go back to her temple, he decided to let her go. He fears Astarte’s revenge, and he wants her to plead with the Goddess to forgive him. She promised to do so because that was the only way she could get back to the
Temple
. But Samson wouldn’t allow her to leave Timnath. He wants to keep her for himself, once the Goddess forgives him and thus removes the tabu surrounding the Queen. Besides, he would lose popularity with his men if he let such a prize go free! So she was under guard, and they took her back to his quarters after she’d spent an hour or so at the
Temple
.”

“But he’s demanded ransom for her,” Maoch noted.

“Yes, Sire, but he doesn’t intend to return her—even if the ransom is paid. He’s asked for ransom only to please his followers, who want her killed after the ransom gets paid. They don’t like to see their Judge, their war chieftain, enamoured of another Philistine woman—especially her—at a time when he should be leading them in war. But they don’t object to his keeping her, if they can get some ransom out of the deal—and then kill her, or continue to hold her as a hostage. So, to please them, that is what Samson has promised. He’ll keep her safe for himself, ransom or not. He hopes that, some day, she will return his love….”

“Incredible!” Zaggi sputtered. Then his eyes narrowed: “And what is
your
role in this, priest—how did
you
escape Timnath?”

“My Lord, Samson doesn’t know that I’ve been Her Majesty’s doctor and priest all this time. He thinks I’m only the local temple

priest. Thus I’ve been able to come and go as I please in Timnath. He has nothing against Babylonians—and, at the same time, he fears my Goddess. I have many loyal co-religionists in Timnath who are willing to hide my movements. We are a secret sect, a secret nation, you see, loyal to ourselves….” He stopped, as if he’d said too much. “…and I wouldn’t be telling you this much, if it weren’t necessary, if I hadn’t been given guidance by the Lady of Timnath…the Goddess…Ishtar-Astarte.” He paused again. “Anyway, my Lords, I slipped out of Timnath and made my way to Ekron. I explained everything to Sheren Ittai, and he sent me here today. Your Lordships know the rest.”

“But
why
are you here?” Melek Maoch asked. “We heard that you can offer us hope.”

“Sire, I have a plan whereby you may not only be able to rescue Her Majesty, but also kill Samson. For that is the will of In…of Ishtar-Astarte.”

At that, Warati’s eyes lit up, and we all leaned forward: “Tell us!” we all demanded.

“I have instructed Her Majesty to gain Samson’s trust, and even to encourage his love…” he began.

“Of that monster!” I cried. “Who killed her husband! And…and….” (I couldn’t find the words.)

“Yes, Lord Phicol. It’s the only way. If she alienates him, his fancy may turn elsewhere—and she’ll be killed, ransom or not, priestess or not. At the same time, however, I instructed her to avoid his physical advances, if he makes any…but I don’t think he will. She must wrap herself in an aura of sanctity so that he will both desire her, and fear the consequences of forcing himself upon her. I told her to treat him kindly, and try to induce him into worshiping the Goddess according to the ancient rite. I hope she can gain his trust, and keep his love—and get him to do her bidding…which means what I want…and, in turn, what your Lordships want….”

“May Astarte be praised!” Maoch exclaimed.

I preferred to praise the cleverness of Ibbi—and the gullibility of Samson. But the idea that Delai should be kind to the brute

appalled me, even as a stratagem. I wondered about her ability to play such a role, and I asked Ibbi about that.

“She’s doing very well, Lord Phicol,” he answered me. “She’s naturally pious herself, and entirely open to my direction, in the name of our Goddess. Whatever hesitancy she may display, or whatever hatred she feels, will be lost on Samson—who doesn’t understand the ways of high-born ladies, or priestesses, or evens the nuances of her language, because he doesn’t know royal—courtly—Philistine speech patterns very well. Besides, he’s blinded by his love for her—and his fear of the Goddess, as I have explained.

“Now, here’s my plan: Philistine agents can be smuggled into Timnath with me. I can hide them in my
Temple
, and Her Majesty can meet them there. She may be able to entice Samson, alone, into the deepest recesses of the
Temple
, where no one but devotees of the ancient rite may go. There, your men can kill him and rescue Queen Delai.”

I raised an eyebrow: “But you said no one but devotees may enter that inner temple. How can we send anybody in there?”

He shrugged his shoulders: “My Lord, the Goddess decrees that Samson must die; She will permit this one exception to Her rule.”

“It would be better,” Zaggi put in, “to capture him. Then we could execute him in public, so as to impress the Canaanites.”

“That will be harder, my Lord,” Ibbi replied. “To do that, we’d not only have to get your men in, and her out—along with all my Temple assistants, because they wouldn’t be safe in Timnath after we’d captured Samson and escape—but, worst of all, we’d also have to bring Samson out alive. I warn you—he’s immensely strong.”

“So we’ve heard,” Sheren Makamaru noted. “He believes that the Sun God gives him strength, I’ve been told.”

“No, my Lord, that’s not quite true. Samson certainly worships the Sun God, it’s true, and he’s even named after the Sun God—‘Shimshon,’ as the Divine Name is sometimes pronounced in Canaanite. And Samson also worships Ba’al, and all the other deities, of course, including, especially, Astarte. But his patron god is Yahweh, the bull-god of the Canaanites—or some of them, anyway. Samson believes that he’s especially favored by Yahweh; he even

calls himself Yahweh’s son! And he has some sort of secret about his strength, all right, but it has nothing to do with the Sun God. It has something to do with Yahweh. If we could find out that secret,

perhaps we could work magic on him and deprive him of his strength. Then you might be able to capture him without a major struggle. I shall consult the omens about that.”

“It seems risky,” I remarked. “Remember, Delai’s life is at stake. Better to kill Samson there in Timnath. Or just spirit Delai out of the city when he’s not around. That would be safest—even though I’d like to get revenge on him, too.”

“I want that man
alive
!” Warati demanded, entering the conversation. I could see that Zaggi and Warati were more interested in getting a hold of Samson than in saving Delai—at least Warati felt that way; perhaps I’m being unjust to Uncle Zaggi.

“Her Majesty might be able to persuade him to tell her his secret,” Ibbi told us. “If we can work magic on him, the whole thing will be safer, no matter whether he’s killed there or later. But the Goddess wants him dead—one way or another.”

Melek Maoch appeared very nervous about the plan, such as it was by then: “To get our agents in, and everybody out—it may take some money to line the pockets of people who might interfere. But we’ll pay anything in bribes if it will help to save the Queen.”

That gave me an inspiration: “Sire, such a mission requires someone of rank. We must not let the plan be known to anyone outside of this room. We must not have to rely on bribing people. It also requires a warrior. I shall go to Timnath!”

“We can’t risk your life, too!” Maoch exclaimed in astonishment.

“I won’t trust Delai’s life to any other man!” I answered. “And, as a sovereign lord, I can’t be stopped from going!”

“In that case,” Warati snapped, “I’m going, too! Because I won’t trust anyone else with the job of capturing Samson!”

I didn’t like the idea of Warati’s going along, but I knew that he and Zaggi wouldn’t let me do it alone.

Ibbi warned us again: “Kidnapping Samson will be very risky.”

But we certainly weren’t going to wait for him to consult his omens.

Maoch frowned: “I’m not sure about this, Phicol.”

“Well, I’m going whether the Council approves or not,” I reiterated.

“And so am I!” Warati added.

Thus our plan got hatched, our plot to save the Queen. And kill that creature who’d done so much evil in our land. None of us, however, was very happy about the shape of our conspiracy. Zaggi might not grieve for very long if I managed to get myself killed; and even the threat to Delai’s life was—to him—more a political than a personal matter. But Warati’s headstrong decision to accompany me could not have been pleasing to our Chancellor; his faction was quite happy to have Warati alive and well as Sheren of Gaza. And Uncle Maoch was beside himself with worry over us both, and over Delai.

But such was the agreement, the Plan. Warati and I would submerge our mutual antipathy in the interests of Queen and nation. I didn’t like the idea of capturing Samson by stealth. It would be underhanded and unsoldierly. I knew that if I were to die in this adventure, it would be without the renown and honor which warriors are supposed to gain by a noble death. Most of all, I didn’t like the increased danger to Delai involved in capturing Samson. Secretly, I decided that, if there were a major risk to Delai, I would get her out of Timnath in any way possible, even if that meant leaving Samson there, and alive. Or dead, for that matter.

Off we went. We moved swiftly from Gath to Timnath—or at least as swiftly as we could, considering that we were disguised as merchants taking advantage of the (sure enough renewed) Ekron-Danite truce, to travel into goods-starved Timnath. (It had been cut off from commerce during the two recent breaks in Ittai’s truce.)

Ibbi filled us in on the details of Delai’s ordeal as we traveled, and my heart ached as I thought of my cousin, trapped in that monster’s lair. She must have suffered terribly from fear; but at least—or so Ibbi assured me—she hadn’t really been much hurt by the…attack…only bruised.

“She’s in discomfort more than serious pain, my Lord,” the priest told us. “Yet at first, she was very much afraid. For two hours after the rape, she was kept in Samson’s headquarters—where it was cold and dirty—on a pile of straw.”

He proceeded to tell us the whole story, just as he’d heard it from Delai. It seems that Samson left her there on the straw while he went some place. But he stationed some guards to watch her. These were Danite soldiers, dirty and bloodstained. In the beginning, they’d looked at Delai with lust in their eyes, and they snickered when Samson pushed her into the room. Another play thing for the Judge, they must have thought—and wondered if they might get a turn with her themselves. Yet Samson’s face was full of consternation rather than ribald joy. He did, it was true, thrust her somewhat roughly into his quarters—but not with contempt; instead, it appeared that his purpose was to get away from her, as though he were afraid of…what? Well, the Goddess, or so Ibbi insisted.

Delai hadn’t been in any condition to appreciate Samson’s mood swings at that time—as she told me herself, much later. Yet, little by little, she began to realize that the Danite guards were
themselves
afraid of something—of her Goddess, and her own status as a priestess. The full story of Ibbi’s outburst must have reached her guards by then, if they weren’t already aware of it: the little Philistine girl was no less than a queen; more, a priestess of the Great Goddess…and their leader, Samson, had raped her on holy ground!