Caleb Vigilant (Chronicles of the Nephilim) (14 page)

The brothers Arba and their squad of five surviving Anakim saboteurs had arrived at Kiriath-arba with their hostages several days earlier.

When they received the news that their king Hoham was dead, they could not be more joyous at the news. They did not need to lead a coup or secret assassination after all. Ahiman would simply step into the royal vacancy provided by the tragic murder at the hands of the Habiru. The brothers would turn it into a propaganda campaign of revenge that would fuel their people and strengthen their grip on the reins of power.

It could not have been a
better gift to them. But for the next few days, they would have to put on a façade of mournful faces. They would not want the populace to be aware of their celebration or their political schemes.

The brothers presided over funerary ceremonies f
or their dead missing king at the megalithic circle of stones, called a gilgal, at the top of their ridge. Since they did not have the body, they used a carved statue of him in effigy and placed it beside the body of his wife, whom they killed to accompany him into the afterlife, as was the custom. Her body was left to the vultures in excarnation. The bones would be buried in a royal ossuary in the catacombs below the gilgal.

Next was the coronation of Ahiman as king
. It was an elaborate affair that was shortened to the ceremony alone, without the seven-day celebration, because of the urgent nature of the war that was upon them.

A long procession
strode through the main thoroughfare of Kiriath-arba.

Ahiman
was at the front of the parade standing in his royal iron war chariot, a huge golden-plated ceremonial vehicle drawn by a dozen horses because of Ahiman’s gargantuan size and weight.

Talmai, the new general of the army
, flanked him on his left, Sheshai, his Right Hand. In truth, Sheshai was Ahiman’s puppet master, ruling by proxy through his brother who did not have the intellectual acumen for statesmanship. The brothers Arba would bring in a new era for the Anakim, a new reign of terror that would forever shake off the chains of Egyptian vassalage and would grind these Habiru into dust and scatter their seed to the four winds.

Behind them were the musicians, beating heavy military percussion and
blowing a hundred trumpets and horns of grandeur.

Next came the dancers, naked men and women who jerked and spasmed in chaotic movements
and cut themselves in expression of the dissonant religious philosophy of the Anakim.

They left a trail of their blood drippings to be tread upon by the next section of the parade: T
he new administration, consisting of some carryovers from the old administration and replacements for those killed for lack of trust by the new administration.

A
long train of marching soldiers came next, in rigid lockstep, with the Anakim salute of power. Their straight right arms held in a fist, with the other arm bent at a perpendicular angle; fist thrust into the elbow joint. This was an affirmation of the new focus on militaristic rule that the brothers would bring.

At the end of this long parade
was a caged cart that carried Rahab, her brothers and sisters, and Achsah. They were included in the ceremony for propaganda purposes to incite more support for Ahiman’s preparations for war.

It made the masses rabid.

After the cheering of the new king and his administration and forces, the crowds then turned to hatred, pelting the prisoners at the tail with dead rats and excrement, chanting with hatred, “Habiru, Habiru, Habiru!”

Inside the cart, Rahab tried to protect her pregnant belly from
the putrid splattering. She felt as if their vileness and hatred could be transferred from the fecal matter to her precious unborn child.

Rahab’s sisters were crying, and her brothers sought to shield them from the thrown feces.

The youngest, Yasha, noticed Achsah’s lack of concern. She stood stoically looking forward, with a determined and slightly satisfied look on her face.

Yasha
said to her sister, “Rahab, why is Achsah without fear? She looks—happy.”

Rahab was looking at Achsah herself with a satisfied knowing look.

She said to Yasha, “Because she knows her father is coming to get us.”

•
• • • •

Ahiman and his brothers ended up at the temple of Ba’al to offer sacrifices to their god of power.

They entered the courtyard with their sacrifice of bull, goat, and lamb. But the coronation and obeisance to the Most High would not be complete without the necessary human sacrifice on the tophet in the inner sanctuary.

It would be neither customary nor expedient to sacrifice the captured women and children, because that would deprive them of the more calculated usefulness
as hostages.

What
was
customary during dire times of suffering or war was to sacrifice the offspring of significant figures in the city in order to appease the gods and stave off disaster. They would be the children of elders, political officials, or rich merchants. In this case, it would be the five children of the newly deceased King Hoham. They ranged in ages from twelve to twenty-years old. It was both standard practice and convenient opportunity to eliminate any rival to the throne of past monarchs.

But after the flesh of Hoham’s children was burning like incense to Ba’al’s nostrils, Sheshai asked the high priest, “Where is Lord Ba’al?”

The high priest gave a shady look at his assistants and muttered, “He has left Kiriath-arba.”

“What? When did he leave?” asked Sheshai, perturbed.

“The morning you brought the hostage Habiru into the city.”

Talmai butted in, “What kind of coward is he? He runs because he knows the Habiru are coming?”

“Silence,” said Sheshai. He turned back to the priest, “Did he say he was returning?”

The high priest paused uncomfortably.

“No.”

Talmai stepped forward and picked up the high priest with a roar and threw him against the wall with all his strength.

The body splattered blood and gore all over the wall. It had been heaved so forcefully that it stuck on the brick like a sick looking puppet of death before sliding down to the floor in a crumpled heap of dead flesh.

Talmai then bellowed another roar of anger.

The other priests scattered to escape the temple with their lives.

Sheshai shouted, “CONTROL YOURSELF!”

Talmai stopped and was heaving with angry breaths. “He was a traitor to keep that from us. To keep it from the king. Without the god’s presence we will be weakened. You know that, brother.”

“Yes, I do,” said Sheshai. “Nevertheless,
your rage will be your undoing, if you do not control it! Fear is not the only passion that blinds a warrior against his
own
weakness. Rage is its equal.”

They were both interrupted by the voice of the unheard Ahiman, with
his deep base resonance. “We need no gods.”

They turned to look up at their towering sibling, now king, now more confident than ever.

“There is only one god: Power.”

•
• • • •

Rahab was brought before the king and his brothers at the
throne room. Ahiman sat majestically on the throne of bones. Sheshai to his right, Talmai to his left.

The fact that Rahab was guarded by two Anakim was ridiculous looking as her small frail pregnant figure was dwarfed by the nine foot tall
colossal monsters. It was like ordering two grizzly bears to guard a kitten.

Sheshai spoke sarcastically, “So, you, a common
harlot, are the chosen vessel of this god, Yahweh? How would he know if the child is his or one of a hundred others?”

Talmai sniggered.

Rahab was not intimidated. She stood her ground proudly.

“I am not a harlot anymore.”

Talmai snorted, “Give me five minutes with you. Once a harlot, always a harlot.”

“I have been redeemed, made clean by Yahweh’s atonement, and adopted into Israel as a royal child.”

Sheshai said, “What a strange deity, this Yahweh. To use such lowly dregs, such—outcasts. So is this child inside you his? Did Yahweh please you with his manhood?”

“The child in my womb is the son of
Caleb ben Jephunneh, the Right Hand of Joshua ben Nun, the leader of Israel. But if he is Yahweh’s chosen seed, you can do nothing to thwart his plans.”

Sheshai chuckled, “You
are a courageous little one.”

Rahab said, “Why does the king not speak? Is he your
stooge?”

Ahiman burst out with a roar that almost knocked Rahab down, “DO NOT MOCK ME BITCH WHORE!”

Rahab swallowed in fear. But she knew her evaluation was correct. These fearsome monsters were just as ego-driven as every male of every species. They were giants, but they were men, with men’s weaknesses. So she also knew them better than they knew themselves.

Talmai
asked, “Can I eat one of her sisters in front of her?”

“Not yet,” said Sheshai.

Sheshai was calm with Rahab, like a king cobra. “I can see you are cunning enough to know you are safe at the moment, harlot. But I assure you, as soon as you outlive your political usefulness, you will wish you could die. You and all your family.”

Rahab shivered. She knew Sheshai was calculated and he meant what he said. The hothead was unruly and could cause
incalculable damage with his outbursts. And she could also see that he was aroused by Rahab’s appearance. She had to be careful with him. The big one was frighteningly huge, and enigmatic. God only knew what he was capable of.

Ahiman
said to Rahab, “You will tell us what you know of your leader Joshua ben Nun.”

Sheshai
changed the subject, which clearly angered Ahiman, “This mate of yours, Caleb ben Jephunneh, rumor has it he was the one who killed Og of Bashan. Is that true?”

Rahab
said, “Yes.”

“Og was an impressive Rephaim. How did he do it? Does he hav
e a special talisman or talent?”

There was no way she was going to tell h
im about Caleb’s whip-sword or Karabu skills.

One talent she had
developed in her past that became useful now was her ability to lie convincingly. It had saved her life, and now she needed it to protect her husband.

“He does not tell me about the details of war, for this very reason, should I be captured by his enemies.”

Sheshai stared at her, trying to read her. Was she lying? His instincts told him no.

He said to
his brothers, “I believe this Caleb is more critical to Yahweh’s plan than Joshua. His is the seed for this “chosen womb” after all. He has been given the identity of a guardian.”

Talmai interjected, “He
has not fulfilled his calling too well if it is to guard this wench.”

Rahab said
proudly, “He will be here soon enough and you can argue with him over that.”

Caleb and Othniel arrived at Gilgal galloping at top speed. The horses of his team were near exhaustion. They had ridden them hard.

They
arrived at the tents of Judah. Caleb’s tents were among those that had been burnt down by fire.

He got off his horse, and stumbled over to the empty charred remains that
had been his dwelling.

He fell to his knees and prayed to the Lord God through
burning eyes. The pain was too great to bear.

His men stood back respectfully, allowing
him to mourn.

Othniel went desperately in search of Achsah amidst the remains.

Caleb looked over and saw a pile of some items that had been rescued from the fire. They were charred and blackened by soot. There was a brass pot, some clay pottery, and even some garments. One of them, Caleb noticed was a tunic of Rahab’s. He grabbed the light under cloak and pressed it to his nose and mouth. He breathed in the scent and his eyes filled with tears.

He
reached down and pulled up Rahab’s dagger she had carried with her through her life. The blade that had saved her more than once was not able to save her this time.

H
is sadness turned to anger as he placed the dagger into this belt for safekeeping.

Othniel approached him, looking like a dead man, holding
Achsah’s bow broken in half. He was trembling.

They both shared a pain that could not find words.
All of Othniel’s regrets flooded his soul and nearly broke him. He should have revealed his love. He should have overcome his fears. He should have married Achsah.

One of the few surviving Israelite males approached Caleb. He was wounded. He had a bandaged arm and leg and limped up to Caleb.

“Sir.”

Caleb said,
“Tell me what happened.”

“We were ambushed at night. There were eight of them. Giant Anakim.
They split into two squads coordinated to strike at the same moment. One hit the northern camps of Benjamin and Ephraim and the other one—here.”

Caleb
trembled with anger. “Diversion.”

“They were gibborim.
They wiped us out. Only one of theirs was killed, decapitated.”

Caleb knew the Anakim killed their wounded rath
er than be bogged down by them.

Caleb could barely say it, “Where are the bodies?”

“They only killed Rahab’s parents. The rest of them, they kidnapped.”

Caleb looked up at him stunned.

“They bound them up and carried them in sacks. Some of us tried to chase them down, but they were fast. They lost us in the forests.”

Caleb got on his feet. He
could not believe it. His family was alive. His Rahab was alive.

Othniel demanded, “Was Achsah with them?”

“Yes. They took everyone.”

Caleb said,
“Where is this dead Anakite?”

The wounded survivor brought Caleb to the monster. They had kept it in a tent for the dead outside the camp. Dead bodies were unclean and should anyone touch one, they would be unclean and would have to wait outside the camp for seven days.

The head was
laid on top of the chest of the nine-foot tall warrior. It had red hair and beard.

When Caleb saw it, all his hatred welled up within him. He saw the tattoo markings on the face and chest. They were the same as those of the Anakim who had captured him and Joshua over forty years ago. He had never forgotten them. They were Canaanite and occultic. Black astrological symbols and spells for power over their enemies.

“We found this on his person.” The survivor handed Caleb a piece of leather with a map drawn on it. And the only city marked as an origin was Kiriath-arba.

The brothers Arba had kidnapped his entire family and were holding them hostage at Kiriath-arba.

Caleb and Othniel would have to get back to Joshua and the armies of Yahweh as quickly as possible.

But first,
Caleb wanted to pay his respects to Rahab’s parents.

He found their graves outside the camp and spent a quick moment in silence before them with Othniel by his side. They had not been the best of parents. In fact, Rahab had been far more gracious to them than they had deserved. But that grace had transformed them, and over the years they became the parents they should have been in thankfulness for the forgiveness they received.

But now, they lay in their undeserving graves, Caleb staring at the dirt to which they had returned, and he mumbled another prayer to Yahweh that he would avenge their murder with justice.

• • • • •

After
Makkedah, Joshua had conquered Libnah, and was preparing to attack the cities of the Amorite coalition they had just defeated, when Caleb and Othniel returned from Gilgal.

Caleb
told Joshua that the Arba brothers had kidnapped Achsah, Rahab, and her family. Joshua felt like he was hit by one of the hailstones of Aijalon.

“You are sure of this?” asked Joshua.

“Yes. The markings on the dead Anakim confirmed it. And he carried a map indicating Kiriath-arba as their origin.”

Joshua said, “I need to secure the lowlands region before we can take Kiriath-arba.”

Caleb said, “My Commander, I beg of you, let me lead the forces against Kiriath-arba. They have taken my family to the land that you promised me.”

Othniel jumped in, “Allow me to join my brother, I plead,”

After a few moments of silence, Joshua got up and said, “Caleb, you will lead the siege on Kiriath-arba with three thousand of our soldiers. Let Othniel be your Right Hand.”

Caleb
brightened with hope.

“
I will take the other three thousand with me and finish conquering Lachish, Eglon, and Jarmuth, and then join you.”

Caleb protested, “But Commander,
Kiriath-arba will be the most difficult battle we will face. They are the mightiest in all of Canaan and they have walls that reach up to heaven.”

“You mean, like Jericho?” said Joshua with a smirk.

Caleb was caught off guard.

“Be strong and courageous, Caleb.
It should only be a matter of days for me to finish my campaign, because those cities no longer have their kings or their full armed forces.” These were the cities whose kings were now buried in the caves of Makkedah.

“I will devote them to destruction and meet up with you at Kiriath-arba.
We will deal with Adonizedek’s Jerusalem later.”

Caleb thought it through. It just might work.

Othniel was thinking of Achsah and revenge.

“Well, get moving, man,” said Joshua. “
We have no time to delay.”