The Philistine Warrior (7 page)

“Today’s the day,” he told me, “that she has her virginity verified by examination.”

“Oh, come now, Uncle!”

“A mere formality,” he replied. “One of the customary stipulations in every marriage contract of this sort.”

Delai herself was far from pleased by this particular formality—as I could tell from her rather sour expression when I saw her at dinner that evening. But by the next day, she was herself again: happy, terrified, and proud by turns.

The bride-price which
Gath
paid was truly fabulous: grain, olive oil, all sorts of exportable goods arrived in Askelon by caravan. I watched as Pai and his scribes happily counted each item being deposited; some of this booty went immediately to market, some into warehouses, and some to the docks. The dowry was even more expensive, but consisted of jewels, perfumes, rare scrolls, religious icons, and other things to please Prince Ekosh and Melek Nasuy. Since these were less-liquid assets, I think that, all in all, Pai was convinced that we had gotten the better of the deal. Delai also received personal gifts from the Melek and the notables of
Gath
.

It was all very staggering, but she didn’t have much time to enjoy her new-found wealth and prestige. Zaggi obliged her to study with tutors in the Egyptian language and culture, while the High Priest and High Priestess drilled her in religious matters; she also received a refresher course in court etiquette, which she regarded as quite unnecessary and uncalled for.

Eventually, all was made ready for her departure. In the early morning of her last day in Askelon, I came to Zaggi’s palace with her honor guard, under my command. Rachel told me that she was out on the balcony; she’d stolen away for a few moments, I suppose, to breathe in the sea air—and survey the shore and palace grounds, her childhood home, one final time. While approaching the balcony, I noted that she wore her former best dress, now demoted to a traveling

outfit. The air was hot, the sun already high, and the sky clear. She appeared to be humming to herself, pacing in nervous little steps.

Before I could greet her, I noticed our Uncle Zaggi enter the balcony from another door.

“Good day, Uncle,” she said—and I waited inside, not wanting to interrupt what might be their last time alone together, for who knew how long?

“Delai,” he replied, his features set hard, “after this moment there’ll be no real opportunity for us to speak together, informally and in private. After this, you belong to the nation.” I congratulated myself on my decision to hold back. She said something which I couldn’t hear, and then he went on: “There are many things to add, and no way to tell you…about what the world’s really like…. You’ve not been completely happy, I daresay, in my house, since your father died….” He held up his hand to prevent her from protesting—or otherwise…. “…although I’ve tried to make life as pleasant for you as possible. But it’s most important for you to realize that life is not for pleasure or pleasantries. Not even for a fifteen year old girl. Duty and duty alone is the key. My duty is to
Philistia
, to Askelon, and to our dynasty, and so is yours. And now you’ll have the added duties of wife and mother-to-be of our dynasty and race. I only hope I’ve built character enough in you to perform those duties….”

“Yes, Uncle,” Delai said in a subdued voice; probably she also had things to say which couldn’t be readily said, and I thought of the time Uncle Zaggi brought her a necklace of lapis lazuli from Tyre—and another time when he read, to both of us, from the Saga of Nomion. I was a teen-ager, and our nation’s stories and songs of battle thrilled me; but Delai was only a little girl, and she used to cry when Uncle read the stanzas describing the death and funeral of the Great King.

“I want you to write to me,” Uncle Zaggi continued, almost as if he were in agony. “And if you need advice on personal, religious, or even political matters, I shall try to guide you….” He wanted to go on, but at that moment a servant entered the balcony. Zaggi turned: “Yes?” he snapped.

“Pardon, Lord, but the caravan master says we must depart now if we are to reach
Gath
at the appointed hour.”

‘Very well; we’ll be there directly.” The servant bowed and retreated. Zaggi’s train of thought had been broken, and he didn’t resume their conversation. His face was a mask again as he and Delai left the balcony. I greeted them, trying to appear newly arrived on the scene, a bit ashamed of my eavesdropping.

“Good morning, Cousin,” she said to me.

“Good day, m’Lady,” I replied, and exchanged salutes with the Chancellor as well. Together, we three walked by the dolphin frescoes, making small talk, and then by the garden shrine where she’d so often prayed. When we reached the palace gate, Delai tugged at her uncle’s sleeve. He turned, and she embraced him. She took my hand for a moment. I opened the gate and we moved out into public view, where the crowd already cheered.

In a few minutes, our caravan began its slow journey through the streets of Askelon. Zaggi, his man-servant, Delai, and Rachel occupied the lead wagon. Zaggi’s chamberlain and some others followed in a second vehicle. Then came wagonloads of dowry wealth, and the belongings which Delai would need for the trip and for her new household. The passenger wagons were comfortable and fancy, quite unlike the crude, two-wheeled carts which our ancestors had used in Karia. A privately financed caravan, also making for
Gath
, followed Zaggi’s procession at a respectful distance. It would ultimately go to
Jerusalem
and beyond, across the great river to Heshbon, Ashtoreth, and
Damascus
. My platoon of chariots, the honor guard, clattered off to one side, keeping its dust out of important eyes. Sheren Maoch and the city dignitaries bade us farewell at the city’s walls; our more than twenty-mile trek to
Gath
got underway.

First, we passed a small lake near Askelon’s walls; a
temple
of
Astarte
was located there, and the sacred fish that Delai and the High Priestess had eaten had (I’m told) been taken from those waters. Slowly, Askelon’s walls and towers retreated from view, lost in the

distance as we climbed uphill from the sea onto the baking plain; for a long time after that, Delai’s gaze sought them among the jagged cliffs which constituted our city’s natural ramparts. At last, convinced that her city had receded completely out of sight, she turned to face the plain.

The land she contemplated was hot, but certainly not a desert. Vast fields of grain spread out around each peasant village; the soil from Askeon north to the
Plain of Sharon
is the richest in all of

Canaan
. Peasants turned from their ripening fields and orchards to gape at our procession; cattle, goats, and other animals raised their heads upon hearing the rattle of my chariots. Here and there one could see smoke rising from dung fires; their flames crackled brightly when the farmers tossed bundles of thorns on the smoldering ash. One such fire burned beneath a roasting lamb, sacrificed earlier in celebration of our passage.

Leaving the honor guard to my second in command, Lieutenant Jaita, I spent some time in the lead wagon with Zaggi and Delai.

The Chancellor was expansive that morning: “More and more land in the interior will be ours someday,” he bragged over the noise of the creaking caravan. “The race of Karia has found the home King Nomion dreamed of!” He swept his hand around. “And to secure it, we’ll need the hills….” Delai listened respectfully, but did not reply. Nor did I, because he wasn’t really talking to anyone in particular, anyway.

Then we passed a settlement of Philistine soldier-farmers, pioneers whose iron ploughshares had increased the productivity of
Canaan
’s land. Such ploughshares—and other iron tools—were often sold to Canaanites in those days; but for military reasons the technique of iron-working remained a secret of our smiths. Thus we were not surprised to see a family of Canaanites trooping into the Philistine settlement to have their tools sharpened. There were several such Philistine farming communities between Askelon and
Gath
, populated by Philistines liable for military service; there were also some Canaanite hamlets.

The land farmed by these Canaanite peasants was usually owned by rich landlords, some Canaanite, some Philistine; Maoch and Zaggi themselves owned some Canaanite farms near Askelon.

But as we went farther east toward the hills, we found increasing numbers of Canaanite freemen, tilling their own fields and managing their own wells, living in little villages, ruled by their clan elders. These were primitive people, unlike the sophisticated city Canaanites, as I have remarked before—and they were prone to revolt against their Philistine overlords. But the greatest danger, both to the

Canaanites of the plains and to us, were the Canaanite tribes of the hill country east of Ziklag and
Lachish
, towns which lay another day’s journey beyond
Gath
—indeed, almost two days, in the case of Ziklag. Some of these highland Canaanites called themselves Judaeans. In that rugged country, we had no control; but Zaggi dreamed of the day when
Philistia
would find her security—and her prosperity—in the eastern hills, and even beyond.

Our caravan had traveled several hours by then, and the heat of mid-day was upon us. The camels made no complaint, but our wagon horses were as unhappy as the passengers. Zaggi halted the caravan so his drivers could moisten their horses’ mouths. But we could not rest them for long; it was a full day’s journey from Askelon to
Gath
, and we didn’t care to be abroad at night with all the wealth we carried. Even in areas near
Gath
, bands of marauders sometimes roamed around, ambushing travelers.

During the rest stop, Delai sat under a canopy sipping water and eating a melon; I joined her there.

“Hail, my Lady,” I called to her. She wasn’t used to being called “Lady.”

“Ah, dear Cousin, sit with me a while,” she replied. Together we admired the camels for their stamina; one in particular seemed venerable, if not beautiful, with a ruff of fur around his neck and his air of authority. He reminded me of Amphimachus, the High Priest. Looking beyond the camels, we remarked upon the scene.
Canaan
’s plain impressed us in its bleak way; rocks jutted out of the brown earth, and scrubby plants appeared here and there. Delai wore a set of gold bracelets which I’d hidden among her traveling bags that morning; and if she was a bit homesick, her excitement at seeing the world made up for it.

At that point, my second in command, Jaita, came up to us. “What is it, Jaita?” I asked.

“M’Lord,” he said, “I’ll take the platoon for a romp around the countryside if you don’t object, and meet you at the
village
of
Micherar
, where the road to Eglon branches off. My scouts report that there’s no one about but a few shepherds for miles and miles, and Lord Zaggi has given permission.”

“Very good, Jaita,” I answered. “So long as you remain within hearing distance of our horns.” With that, the platoon rumbled off.

Zaggi then called for us to resume our places in the wagon; he turned to his servant: “Tell the caravan master we shall procede now.” Climbing into our wagon, he settled beside us. “Here we enter
Gath
’s territory,” he announced, pointing to a marker on the roadside.