Desired: The Untold Story of Samson and Delilah (Lost Loves of the Bible) (9 page)

AMARA

“Do you know what this would cost me?” Talos was yelling at my father. I heard their voices through the walls of our home. Astra was sleeping peacefully next to me, so I slid myself off the pallet trying not to disturb her. Her arm, which had been around me, shifted back and forth around the pallet. Even in her sleep, she knew when I was gone.

I tucked the blanket into the crook of her arm. She pulled it close and sighed.

My sandals were near the door, but I did not pause to put them on. Cracking the door open, I leaned my head out to listen. The sun was setting. My stomach lurched as I thought of last night and what must surely happen tonight.

“My family will kill me if I lose that much money!”

“Then shut your mouth and solve the riddle. Did I force you to accept the bet?”

“Is this your idea of a dowry? Sending Amara away with wealth from all our families?”

My father shoved Talos down to the ground. I ran out to stop him from kicking him, too.

“Stop! What are you arguing about?”

Talos stood up and spit at my feet. He walked off without looking at me.

“What happened?”

Father glanced at me and sighed. “Last night, your Danite made a bet with our men. If he wins, they have to provide him with thirty sets of clothes. Your friends accepted before hearing the riddle.”

“My friends? You blame me?”

“They think we set them up to get money out of them.”

“I didn’t invite them.” I looked from my father to Talos, accusing. Neither cared, nor met my eyes. Talos was done with me.

“A set of clothes can mean a month without food. And they are our guests! Wish us luck ever getting work again in harvest time or selling any more rugs. What did you say to him?”

“Nothing! This is not my work!”

Mother returned, carrying fresh water in a crock. I hoped she had warmed it, if it was meant for me.

“What is all this noise?”

Father made a fist and slammed it into the frame of our door, near my head. I screamed and ducked out of the way. I stumbled as I did. My legs were not solid yet.

He gestured at me.

“The riddle Samson posed last night? The bet? Every family in the village is furious with us.”

“That’s Samson’s doing, not ours. Not hers.” Mother took a step toward me, out of instinct, I was sure. She knew what it was like to be given away.

“If you don’t want to see your family ruined, then get your groom to cancel the bet. He can tell all the riddles he wants, but he can’t extract money from our villagers. He knew you had no dowry before he accepted you,” Father said.

“No dowry at all?” I did not hear right. My ears were not working after my first drunken night. No girl ever married without a dowry. Even the poorest man saved something to send away with her. What man would take a bride who had nothing to offer?

I sat, naked, my back to the door, as Mother washed me. The water was freezing, and I shivered, an involuntary protest, but she insisted it was a good remedy for my ills after last night.

“The only remedy we can afford, you mean,” I corrected her. I sounded cross.

Astra brought in a small basket of herbs to weave into my hair. She sat it down next to us as Mother laid her hand on my shoulder.

“Never mind your father. He is ashamed. This bet makes it worse for him.”

I was glad I did not have to look at her.

“What kind of man takes a bride with no dowry? Why did Samson choose me?”

She dipped the sponge back into the crock. I winced as I heard her wring it out, bracing myself for another cold shock against my skin.

“My greatest regret, daughter, is that I will lose you to a Hebrew. I do not know why Samson insisted upon you, or why your father allowed it.”

“I love her.”

Samson’s voice boomed through our tiny home, making us all gasp. Mother jumped up as Astra hid behind her. I was naked, with nothing to grab for cover. I held my hands over my nakedness and did not turn around.

“I chose her because I love her.”

“But you just saw me once, on the roof.” I was emboldened by my mother and sister, and by my modesty in avoiding his eyes. Would that I could cover my back and buttocks. I hoped he wasn’t looking at them. I knew he must be, though; they burned with embarrassment.

“I saw you once, on the roof, yes. Any man that needs a second look at you to decide his intentions is no man at all. I look forward to our second night together.”

I heard the door sweep across the floor and close. Mother and Astra stood frozen, but when they met my eyes, my blush of embarrassment was so quick that they laughed at me. They laughed despite the new little tears that sneaked out of my eyes, the small, mean tears of surprise and embarrassment.

I was not going to drink tonight. I had to be alert, to speak to Samson if I could, and ask him to cancel the bet. I would persuade him to wait one more night to touch me.

Besides, I wanted to hear the riddle.

Samson’s cheek brushed against mine as he bent down to speak in my ear. Goose bumps rose along my arms as his hair fell forward, touching my arms and bodice.

“Are you ready?”

My stomach twinged with these strange sharp pains that were not from wine or bad food, but strange hot pinching pains that shot down my thighs whenever he touched me or his gaze lingered too long. Would all of married life be such agony? I did not think I could take another hour of shivering at his touch, and certainly not a lifetime.

It was wrong, I knew, to feel these things about a Hebrew, but there was no Philistine man or boy that was anything like him. Samson was a new race of man.

“Did you hear me?” he asked. “Why do you seem far away?”

I shook myself, biting my cheek. If he knew my thoughts, I would die of shame.

He continued. “Out of the eater, you’ll find something to eat. Out of the strong one, you’ll get something sweet.”

I shoved him away. It sounded lewd. I didn’t want to reveal my utter ignorance, but neither would I be made a fool.

He leaned back and roared with laughter. Everyone watched us. That was not a new feeling. Everyone had watched us all night, looking, no doubt, for hints of my complicity with Samson’s bet, as if I was plotting with my groom to rob them all.

“Samson. That riddle cannot be solved. It’s not fair. You should call off the bet.”

“The answer is nearer than you know. Besides, the men accepted my terms before they heard the riddle. Was that wise?”

I floundered, keeping my eyes on my plate lest I start a fight among them all.

“No,” I admitted at last.

“Let them suffer.”

“But they are angry with me.”

“You are my wife. Not theirs.”

Our whispers did not carry, though the men strained to listen. I was grateful for the musicians who had come tonight. The music made everyone’s heart lighter. A lyre player and harpist sat together, while the lute player circulated among the guests, enticing us with his melodies, begging among us for a dancer.

Samson stood, the wide, white moon behind him, lighting him around the edges like a god. He extended a hand to me, and I stood too, his huge frame casting a shadow over me. I spared only one glance at anyone else, and it was at his mother, to read her face. Her eyes narrowed as she lifted her bowl of beer and gulped it down. Odd that she drank beer and not wine, but I would learn much more about her people in days to come, I knew.

Samson led me away from the tables, closer to the fire. The lute player followed, and men who could find partners joined us. Talos sulked away alone, but I could not think of him. I could only think of this man Samson holding my right hand, standing so close I could feel his breath on my neck. He spun me in a slow arc, then pulled me back in, closer this time, so that the fabric of our tunics touched. I sucked in my stomach, a feeling like fear shooting through it, unwilling for him to touch my body, even through my tunic, afraid to touch his. The buzzing in my head was relentless, drowning out all thought and reason. There was only his breath on the soft, bare skin of my neck and the warm, soft flesh of his palm pressed into mine.

I couldn’t breathe. He lowered his face to mine, and without thinking, without meaning to offer myself, I lifted my mouth to his. I closed my eyes and shivered. His lips grazed my forehead—my forehead!—and not my mouth, and he held me a moment more.

The lute player had changed songs. Samson was leading me to my home. Panic stabbed through my stomach as I bit my lips to keep from crying. I heard bowls being raised in a lewd toast.

Where was Astra? Or Mother? I tried to steal glances back over my shoulder, but I was too embarrassed for any of the men to catch my eye. I saw Samson’s father instead, who was watching us with a kind expression. Old as the dirt we stood on, with sparse white hair and hanging white brows, he nodded at me and raised his bowl.

I wanted to die. I was going to die, before Samson even had a chance to undress me. I could not breathe when he touched me, not even when I was in my tunic.

He released my hand at my door. “Good night, wife.”

“Uh.” That’s all I could say. I had thought he would take me tonight. I had been drunk, I understood, he had been kind, but he was surely going to take me tonight. Why was he not going to take me tonight?

That same cursed smile played on his lips. “You were expecting something else?”

He leaned his right arm over me, leaning against the doorframe of the house, imprisoning me under his huge, overfed frame.

“My wife is disappointed with me? So soon?” Samson asked.

“Don’t.” It was a warning.

He loved it. He laughed like I was the wittiest girl he had ever known, a rare gem.

“I was joking. I only brought you home so you could change.”

“Change?”

“I want to take you somewhere. Change. We will take my donkeys. Unless you prefer me to carry you.”

I flung the door to the house open to escape the horror of such a thing. He probably would do that, too. However, I had nothing to change into, and we had never owned donkeys, so I didn’t know why I had to change my tunic to ride.

The length. Probably the length of my tunic was too long. I rummaged through Mother’s basket and found her best sash. Wrestling my own off, I wrapped hers around my waist twice, tying it in back. A splash of cold water on my face and a finger scrubbed across my teeth were the only other grooming tricks I knew.

I opened the door, and he was waiting.

The donkey plodded up the road into the hills with steady good humor, despite the huffs from nearby lions and the screams of the badgers.

“Your donkey is a good one,” I said, ending the quiet truce we had kept since leaving the feast last hour.

“He is not my donkey.”

I turned, finally having the nerve to look at him.

He had been studying me during the whole ride and smiled to see me finally look back. “He’s yours. For the return journey.”

“He’s sweet.” I didn’t know how to judge a good donkey, but I had to say something. I couldn’t believe I was alone with Samson in the valley under a full moon, and all I could talk about was donkeys. If he had any wisdom about choosing wives, he’d swat the donkey and send us both fleeing into the hills, away from him.

“Where are we going then?”

He smiled. “Away for a few hours.”

My stomach was knotting up. I had to relieve myself terribly badly. The more I thought about it, the worse it got. Sweat broke out all over my face and chest. How did wives say these things to their men? Or was I to always keep these things a secret, an honorable silence? I did not know.

“Listen.” Samson stopped the donkey, stroking his muzzle. The donkey turned his head and pressed into Samson’s stomach for more attention. “We’re near the stream of Sorek.”

In winter, the stream was full and wild, with daisies blooming at the edges and ktalav trees nearby.

“Do you need to stop?” Samson asked.

I didn’t know if I should lie. “If you do.”

He laughed, which I did not understand, but he found much amusement in things I said or did. He pointed to his right. “The river is just beyond these trees. Do you want to go first?”

I nodded, slipping off the donkey and walking away. Insects shrieked and sang all around me, and birds called to one another in the trees above my head. I did hear the river now, and as I parted the last clasping pair of evergreen branches, I saw it.

I had a clear view up and down the banks. No matter where I attended to myself, he could see me if he peeked. Just across the banks, rising above me, was a cave set into the gentle hill. It didn’t look like a bad climb. I lifted my tunic and plunged into the freezing cold water, slipping on the stones at the bottom, pushing against the currents to get across. I climbed out and up the slope, and picked my way up to the cave.

From this perch, I could see the faraway lights of my village. The bonfire must have been one of the little burning yellow lights I saw twinkling back at me. I had never seen my village from this distance. It looked so small. Or was it me? Had I grown so much bigger?

Samson whistled for me. I whistled back, to confirm I did not need his assistance.

Lifting my tunic again, I ducked inside the cave for certain relief. The mouth of the cave was several feet above my head; it was a small cave, which was a good sign. Large caves were used by the wealthier farmers for storing grain. The caves were close to the fields, dry, and cool. But a small cave like this would be of no use to them.

I let my eyes adjust to the darkness, then carefully placed one foot in front of the other, sliding my sandal side to side to be sure of my footing. Moving this way, I slid away from the mouth of the cave into the darkness. I chose a suitable spot and was standing back up, finished, when I heard a rustling noise near me. And another, followed by a tight little hiss. Something touched my hair, lifting a section up before dropping it. I saw the light at the mouth of the cave as if it were a thousand leagues away, and my legs would not move.

A rush of hisses and chirps swept past me, my hair flying in all directions. I screamed and ran for the mouth of the cave, my tunic still tucked in my sash.