The Philistine Warrior (23 page)
“Tribute and respect—and better trade relations—will always come from
Philistia
if I can help it,” Ekosh promised.
But Pharaoh had closed his eyes and wasn’t really listening to what was being said. We all stood there in silence, and I wondered if Ramses had fallen asleep. But no: “Every time,” Pharaoh spoke again—at last—“every time I contemplate starting a new round of intrigue with Amenhotep, or of writing yet another command which won’t be obeyed…I begin to fall asleep. My letters, even to my other commanders in the south—in
Cush
—go unanswered, even though I threaten them with reprisals. My ancestors had only to speak and it would be done.” He paused again, and sighed. “At least Amenhotep lets me have all the grapes I can eat.” He picked up another one—and ate it this time. “I was so sorry, Prince, tdo hear about Menena’s treachery. But it doesn’t surprise me; a like death awaits all here in
Thebes
who conspire for me or against me, until the priests have their final victory…when Amenhotep will let me die a dignified death, and that will be that. Well, then, goodbye, mighty Prince; goodbye, gracious and lovely Princess. There are fewer luxuries in
Philistia
—but also fewer powerful priests…oh, yes, farewell, Colonel Phicol…it was nice to see you again….”
We all knelt down to take our leave. The fan-bearers returned with their steely, intelligent eyes—too intelligent for mere fan-bearers…. The Prince and I saluted Pharaoh once more at the door; Delai curtsied again; and then we left the throne room and went straight to our ship.
Delai became cheerful again, once the gloomy air of Ramses’ palace got left behind; but Prince Ekosh remained solemn and thoughtful until we were some distance down the
Nile
—and
Thebes
, his home for many, many years, could no longer be seen. He’d worked for decades for what was now collapsing behind him—the dynasty of Ramses, the empire of Egypt…even his own estate, which he loved, but which could hardly survive for long (as his) whenever Egypt came under the rule of the priests. At middle age and more, now, he had to pick up the pieces of another homeland, and begin to build anew. He said to me: “Pharaoh was in a more than usually gloomy mood, Phicol…the situation isn’t that bad—not yet, anyway….”
I didn’t know whether Pharaoh exaggerated—or was it Ekosh who now sought comfort in calling Pharaoh overly gloomy? I vowed then and there that I would fight on forever, lest my fatherland should go the way of
Egypt
.
This Blood-drenched Land
Thus the Hawk-eyed King gave up the ghost, and up to
Heaven leapt the fire they set
Within his death-bed pyre; with games they paid full honor
To his name;
His wife then wandered out onto the plain: “Fair Lion of my
Youth,
Honeysweet,” she said, “my hand is cold without your touch;
I know the tearful flood
Hebrew women shed; this land drinks up
All our blood!”
--the
Nomiad
, Stanza LI
Our twin vessels rode at anchor in the uneasy waters of Askelon’s dock; slaves set out the gangplank and scurried ashore. As aide-de-camp to the Prince, I stepped onto the dock to make sure that all was ready for the appearance of our royal family. Sheren Maoch and Chancellor Zaggi came forward to their official positions, and I saluted them.
Zaggi came up to me: “This is how a king should arrive!” he exclaimed, with greed in his eyes. Turning to his brother, he went on: “Watch, my Lord: the Prince won’t appear until his slaves have set down a carpet and unloaded Delai’s sedan chair. I saw this sort of thing when I was in
Babylon
.” Zaggi got so excited that he tugged at Maoch’s cape. He was correct, of course: there was a bit of stage managing involved in this first landing of the new Melek on his native shore.
First came Delai, with her baby, accompanied by her servants. Then Prince Ekosh stepped out onto the gangplank. But instead of being dressed in finery, let alone Egyptian finery—as Zaggi had evidently expected—he was clad in Philistine armor, and he strode past his mincing Egyptian slaves without a glance. He’d obviously come to take charge, and would do so as a warrior-king. Sheren Maoch stood up more straight and stiff than I’d ever seen before, and we all saluted our lord of lords. He returned our gesture with a brusque motion of his hand, and then addressed the assembled notables:
“Lords and gentlemen of
Philistia
: we are at war; I shall leave for
Gath
immediately, and from there to the front.” I saw Zaggi’s face fall—he and Maoch must have hoped that the Prince would stay in Askelon for a long while, so they could influence him…under the guise of briefing him on the “situation.” Ekosh continued: “But I do not wish to take the baby to
Gath
, since that would be a hard trip, overland. He’s to stay here until I summon him; and the Princess Delai is to stay with him.” He put one arm around his wife, and Delai looked up at him.
Was she happy to stay in her hometown? Or was she sorry to be separated from her Prince? In any case, she made no comment. It was clear that they’d discussed the matter, and that her first duty was to country and dynasty, regardless of personal preference; his orders were her law.
“Sire,” I spoke up, “let me provide your escort to
Gath
.” A tearful glance from Delai told me that she’d hoped I could stay near her while her husband was away. But duty came first again, and I went on: “I’ve a squadron of charioteers. We’ve campaigned all Spring, and no Canaanite band has been able to stand up to us!” As
an afterthought to this bravado, I turned to the Princess: “Your Highness, I shall guard the Prince—the Melek—with my life!”
Ekosh smiled—the tired smile of an old warrior who’s seen many a gallant and self-glorifying young buck in his day. But I could see that he would accept my offer, and Delai reached out her hand to thank me. I hadn’t intended to wait until landing to propose commanding Ekosh’s escort—I was, after all, already his aide-de-camp. Yet I was pleased at the expression on Zaggi’s face as he took in the implications of it all: I would be closer to the new Melek than he and Moach combined; daily contact.
“You shall be both my escort sqauadron commander and aide-de-camp,” the Prince announced.
Now Zaggi knew about my being Ekosh’s aide, as well; he scowled minutely, and my heart beat with joy! In addition to being close to Ekosh, I would henceforth—who knew for how long—command my squadron in the Melek’s service, out from under Maoch and Zaggi’s control; and my uncles were far too obsequious to object to my high-handed coup!
The royal Prince remained in Askelon for only one night; there were no festivities—the situation was much too grave for that—but we kept busy with conferences and exhortations. I did manage to spend some time with Delai, getting her settled and cheering her up. As befitted her rank, she was lodged with Maoch in the city’s grandest palace, rather than with her former guardian, Zaggi. In any event, Zaggi himself was in almost constant attendance upon the Sheren, and seldom could be found in his seaside residence. (This may not have been entirely due to our emergency—or to his desire to be near Maoch, hence near Ekosh—but because Zaggi was glad to be away from his increasingly hysterical wife.)
The next day, we set out for
Gath
. As we clattered across the plains, I could see that Prince Ekosh was pleased with my troopers—and they in turn were delighted to escort him and show off their skills. These were soldiers the like of which Ekosh had seldom seen in
Egypt
: proud, efficient, loyal, tough—much unlike the lazy, corruption-ridden armies of Pharaoh.
“I can readily appreciate, Colonel Phicol,” he remarked, “how you must have felt to see such men and equipment used so foolishly north of Ekron.”
“And all in vain,” I replied. “The plains around Ekron now belong to the Danites, Sire; even Ekron herself pays them tribute.” What a bitter truth! But he already knew all that.
“What we shall do, Phicol, is this: your squadron will be the nucleus of a new chariot army raised from all over
Philistia
. We shall go on the offensive.” The breeze whipped around us as we spoke; his words were good to hear.
“Where shall we strike, Sire?” I asked.
He pondered for only a moment: “From what I’ve been told, and from what I myself remember from struggles in the past, your subject Canaanites are disorganized and primitive—even the Judaeans; they all derive their opportunity and inspiration from the Danites.”
“True, Sire.”
“But even Zaggi—who’s a crafty fellow—even he doesn’t quite see the real danger. He wants land for Askelon, and so he wants our efforts to be directed primarily against the Judaeans; he wants their hills. But that’s what went wrong last year. The hills are precisely where we should
not
try to fight; at least not until we’re much stronger than we are now. Anyway, since Zaggi feels that way, he doesn’t see the real danger: the Danites. They may—any day now—they may try to seize the city of
Ekron
; they may try to gain and hold on to a strip of our coastline. Then they’ll present themselves to the world as a civilized people, with a political center and a commercial outlet to the sea. Then what? They’ll make an alliance with the rich cities to the north—our commercial rivals, such as
Tyre
. They might even try to play
Assyria
off against us; the Assyrians might be glad to send assistance to the Danites—and get themselves a foothold on the Philistine coast….”
“I admit, Sire, that none of us quite appreciated such dangers. We sometimes thought of such things, vaguely, but always turned our
main attention to the immediate crises on the Judaean front,” I confessed. “I knew that the Danites would be a big problem, but I was thinking only of their role in stirring up Canaanite and Judaean troubles.”
He resumed his line of thought: “It’s vital—imperative—that the Danites be reduced again to the status of hillbilly marauders, with no world-wide pretentions. We can’t wait until the formation of our new army; we must fight them with what we have now, even if it means a war of attrition, before they conquer Ekron, or appeal to some powerful outsider. There’s only one thing we must avoid—and that’s another defeat like that of Ittai’s brigade last year. The issue must be seen to be at least
in doubt
, and we must keep it that way until our new forces are ready.”
“Your Highness’s plan, then, is a spoiling attack?”
“Precisely. First a spoiling attack, and then the all-out reconquest of the plains around Ekron. Ekron must be rescued—even against her will, if she doesn’t care to fight. Your chariots, Phicol, will be the instrument of our spoiling attack. Then, with infantry to occupy the reconquereed territory, and to take the Danites’ forts, then we’ll finally wipe out their raiding bases and their settlements on the plains, and in the foothills around Ekron. We won’t attempt again to push far into their mountains. But, with diplomacy and bribes we’ll keep the mountain peoples divided among themselves—as they’d always been, until our defeat last year gave the Danites a chance to bully the rest of them into an alliance against us. That’s how we’ll secure our natural border: at the foothills. After that, it’ll be an easy matter to push the Judaeans back to their hills. Then your Canaanite peasants will settle down, when there’s no one left on the plains to excite—or terrorize—them into rebellion. It’s important, by the way, to treat those people, the Canaanites, well. Show them that they’ve more to fear from the hill tribes than they do from us—and that we’re their only protection from the hill and desert peoples.”
