The Philistine Warrior (18 page)

to guard their rear from Benjaminite attack, since the Ephraimites—now satiated with loot—had gone back into their hills.

As my ship slipped away from her moorings, I called out to Captain Jaita: “Take care of our squadron,” I shouted.

“Godspeed, Colonel!” he answered back.

Chapter
VII
:

Homecoming

Ramses then went on: “Too many enemies have we on

Every corner of

Our Realm. Our vassal you shall be, but take as fief

Another shore!

We have a goodly province,
Canaan
is its name; but it’s

Hard pressed:

Canaanites unruly are, and some of them—tribes in the

Hills, and fiercer still,

Stiff-necked Hebrews they are called—bow not

To our will.”

--the
Nomiad
, Stanza XXVIII

The warship which carried me to
Egypt
was both swift and strong. When the waters were still, we knifed along like an arrow; and yet she could crash through the heaviest waves like that iron-tipped spear of Karia, which King Nomion once hurled into the wood and leather shields of Dan. As we sped by the Sinai coast, I recalled the happier voyage of less than a year before; so much had changed at

home…but my thoughts now dwelt on the future, and on my cousin, Delai. Will she have changed? Is she happy in
Egypt
? Will she be pleased to come back to
Philistia
?

I knew something of her life in
Egypt
’s
Thebes
, of course, from her letters—and also from what I’d been told by some merchants who once visited Askelon, while on their journey back from
Egypt
. Delai herself had written a little bit about difficulties in her pregnancy, and of her deepening interest in religion—and also about the growing romance between Rachel and an Egyptian chamberlain in Ekosh’s service, a man named Menena. All of
Philistia
knew of the successful birth of the baby, Prince Akashou. Later, however, I came to learn much more about these, and other, matters, from both Prince and Princess…and also from that strange little man, Ibbi by name, a priest and doctor from far-off Babylonia.

I knew that Delai must have become pregnant shortly after her marriage, and that she lived in Prince Ekosh’s villa in
Thebes
during her pregnancy. This was a mansion of quite respectable size for the capital of
Egypt
; certainly grander than any private residence in Askelon, or even in
Gath
. It had a large porch, supported by tall, multi-colored columns; lotus flowers swam in the oversized pool which adorned their yard. Gardeners tended house and grounds with gentle care, and Delai herself had more servants than she could possibly use. Rachel therefore was able to spend many hours in unaccustomed luxury, and she could often be found “helping” Chamberlain Menena as he supervised the slaves and looked after the hordes of pointy-nosed dogs and stately cats of the mansion.

This chamberlain was an ex-scribe, and very intelligent. After a successful career in the Egyptian bureaucracy, he’d been employed by Prince Ekosh—only about a year or so before Delai’s arrival in
Egypt
. Short, skinny, and dark of complexion, Menena was the epitome of the efficient Egyptian bureaucrat. Because he was of low birth, he could hardly expect to be accepted into the highest society of
Thebes
, but that mattered not a bit to Rachel, in whose company

Menena loved to spend his time. He’d traveled widely in
Egypt
, I soon learned, but Rachel was the only foreigner (other than Ekosh) whom he’d ever known well—and she must have seemed exotic to him, believe it or not. He soon became a good friend of Delai’s as well, and the three of them engaged in frequent conversations and backgammon games; also in such sports as archery, until Delai became too pregnant for that kind of activity.

The Prince was usually too busy to join them, of course, but he was immensely pleased to see that his wife had two such convivial companions during the hours and days which he himself could not spend with her. Delai did feel a bit homesick for Askelon sometimes, but she kept herself busy and entertained with her friends. Naturally, Menena spent much more time with Rachel than he did with Delai; indeed, Rachel soon became downright giddy from his attentions. Both Prince and Princess smiled upon their romance; Menena was a widower—and childless—and Rachel, they both believed, would make him a wonderful wife; and certainly the other way around, as well. Delai later told me that she’d prayed for the marriage of Chamberlain and (more or less ex-) servant girl.

As her pregnancy progressed, however, Delai began to pray more and more for her own sake—and for the sake of her unborn child. She sensed, somehow, that something was wrong, and she might need supernatural assistance in the form of Hathor—that Egyptian Goddess whom Amphimachus had said was merely Astarte with an Egyptian name. I learned a lot about Hathor when I was in
Egypt
. She’s supposed to be a joyful deity, and women regard Her as their protector. Therefore, Her festivals are occasions for female dancing and singing, plus music-making on the sistrum—an instrument useful in driving away demons. Hathor’s celebrants often become quite intoxicated while in Her temple.

On the other hand, there is a very serious element in Her worship, and this is why Delai wanted Her help. Hathor is called the Mother of the World, She who nourishes Her worshipers with Her milk—and Her special care is lavished on the pharaohs, whom She is said to suckle throughout their lives. Indeed, the rather mammery nature of Her godliness is so emphasized that She’s often depicted as a cow—or as a woman with a cow’s head. Usually, however, Her

image is that of a beautiful queen with a pair of cow’s horns on her head. She certainly is a well known goddess, worshiped in Punt, Sinai, and even in
Phoenicia
, where Her name is “The Lady of Byblos.” But Delai, of course, was convinced that behind all these forms and names, Hathor was really our own Goddess Astarte.

The fact that Hathor is sometimes depicted as a hippopotamus was also of considerable importance, because this makes it possible for the Egyptians to identify Her with Tauerat, the favorite goddess of childbirth in
Thebes
. Tauerat is portrayed, you see, as a pregnant hippopotamus—and there are few things bigger than that! She was only one of the many goddesses about whom Delai learned as she approached her ninth month of pregnancy. There was also Heket, the frog-headed goddess of childbirth, and Meshkent, who appears at the moment of birth, personifying the bricks upon which delivering mothers perform their labor in a crouching position. And there are “hathors,” not to be confused with “Hathor”; they are a collection of more or less minor spirits who appear at birth and prophesize the baby’s future.
Et cetera
,
et
cetera
.

Needless to say, these outlandish animal-gods didn’t appeal very much to my Cousin Delai. Yet the time soon came when she needed a great deal of comfort. She became rather ill as she entered the ninth month, and the learned doctors whom Prince Ekosh summoned soon began to mutter in worried tones about a possible still-born child. Delai became even sicker from anxiety then. The life she felt within her meant so much, both to her and to the Prince…but her prayers to Hathor seemed to go unanswered. Nor did it please her to learn that Hathor is also the Goddess who welcomes the dead into the West.

It was Rachel who brought Delai the good news: in the center of
Thebes
, she said, there’s a
temple
of
Ishtar
—which is simply the Babylonian name for Astarte. “The ritual there,” Rachel went on, “is almost identical to that which Philistines and Canaanites use in worshiping Astarte.”

Delai took heart immediately: if only she could worship Astarte in the old, familiar ways, then, perhaps, all would be well again. “But, Rachel, how did you find this temple?” she asked (or in words like that; so it was reported to me much later).

“I was guided there,” the girl replied, “by a Canaanite merchant. I wanted to pray for your sake—and for mine….” Rachel stopped short and cast her gaze to the floor.

“For yours?” Delai asked.

Rachel blushed: “Yes, Princess. I asked Ishtar to move Menena’s heart so that I, too, might wed. I spent my entire savings for a sacrifice—and my prayer was answered!”

Delai trembled with joy, and the two embraced. My cousin must have felt very motherly toward her companion just then—although Rachel was actually almost ten years her senior.

But Delai’s moment of happiness did not last very long. The discomfort in her distended abdomen soon reminded her of her own need for the Goddess. On the very next day, then, with the reluctant consent of Prince Ekosh and her doctors, my cousin was taken by sedan chair to the
Temple
of
Ishtar
. There she asked to be left alone with the Goddess—and with the priest who served Her, a middle-aged man named Ibbi. He would assist the Princess, he said, in the absence of the High Priestess of Ishtar.

Short, dark, bald and round-headed, with a small, clean-shaven chin, Ibbi appeared neither Babylonian nor Assyrian. He comes from
Chaldea
, Delai soon learned (as did I, later), a land of marshes near the Mesopotamian Delta, down where the
Tigris
and
Euphrates
run into their gulf. This is the original home of the most ancient civilization of
Babylon
; in fact, Ibbi claims, his people date back to before the founding of
Babylon
itself, back to the beginning of earthly creation. He’s very proud of his origins, yet he’s nevertheless quite self-effacing in the presence of royalty such as my Cousin Delai. It’s obvious that she put her confidence in him immediately upon their first meeting.

“Priest, my baby may die, and I with it, unless the Goddess will hear me. I thought my prayers to Hathor and Taueret would be heard by Astarte, but I’ve only become sicker.” She paused, searching for the right thing to say. “I must, even if I die, bring forth a live male-

child for the Prince. I’m prepared to sacrifice anything for that, no matter what the cost.” The priest looked deeply into her eyes, but she didn’t turn away. “Yes,” she continued, “I will—I’ll offer my life to the Goddess in exchange for that of my child!”