The Philistine Warrior (5 page)

economic burden not only with Ekron, but also with the other great Philistine cities. And how much can one troop of chariots cost, in any event?” Maoch preferred calm meetings. Yet he made good sense.

I raised my hand. He said, “Go ahead, Captain.”

“M’Lord, surely there’s enough money for both docks and Danites—because my charioteers have to be paid, anyway. All we need is to stockpile and transport their supplies while on expedition.”

Zaggi scowled. I continued: “So it won’t be as if we’d be abandoning the naval and commercial side.”

Amphimachus, often a respected neutral in such discussions, came up with a compromise: “My Lords, when the time comes to settle details with Ekron, we—together in our own Council—we can decide how much we can afford, while considering Pai’s requests. In that way, we can send the Chancellor to confer with Ekron without a divided Council behind him.”

Meaning, that is, without giving Zaggi and Pai a chance to argue with each other in front of the Ekronites—or, worse, the

Gathites! And meaning also that Warati would not have much of a say, if any, since he was not a member of the Council.

“On the basis of that idea, can we postpone further debate on the question?” Maoch asked, hopefully.

Pai, however, remained displeased, obviously fearing that, in private, Zaggi would sway the Sheren’s mind away from docks and ships. “Then let it be formally noted,” Pai insisted, “that the full Council will consider my requests
before
agreeing on the amount of aid to send Ekron.”

“May I have an opinion from each of you on Pai’s motion?” the Sheren asked, wearily.

In the ensuing discussion, Zaggi and Warati expressed thinly veiled hostility toward Pai; but the High Priest, myself, and, of course, Pai, were in favor of the motion. Since Warati was not a member of the Council, our vote was overwhelmingly against the Chancellor. Maoch wasn’t obliged to accept the majority’s view, especially since this was not the full Council; but he seldom overruled a clear-cut majority.

“It will be so noted,” the Sheren said at last, motioning to me in relieved fashion.

Zaggi cast another disapproving glance at me. I thought the whole argument was a bit petty, but, of course, I was new to the affairs of state, and didn’t comprehend yet all of the unspoken, subtle issues at stake behind what seemed to be such a small matter of appropriations for a mere troop of charioteers.

As I made my entry into my notes, I could sense that Pai was savoring his little moment of triumph. He was a commoner, and it was not an easy thing for him to take on my Uncle Zaggi; on the other hand, he was also a man of great wealth, with a strong following among the merchants and the commercially-minded nobility. A thin, almost skinny man, Pai resembled Uncle Zaggi a little—what with his thin face and prominent nose—but he was a good deal shorter than Zaggi. Like the Chancellor, Pai was hard-working, highly intelligent, and very serious; but that was as far as the comparison went. Unlike

Zaggi, Pai was entirely devoid of arrogance and (or so I thought at the time) of guile. In those days, he was open and above board in his affairs, and in his behavior at Council meetings. He was there, he freely acknowledged, to look after the interests of the business community. Zaggi used to look down on him for that, but I felt that it was simply Pai’s duty to take that approach.

I don’t mean that Pai lacked patriotism. True, he believed that whatever was good for business was bound to be good for the city as a whole; but he was also prepared to subordinate commercial interests to the general good when necessary. He merely contended that we shouldn’t rush into unnecessary wars, because wars damage commerce, bringing crushing taxes down upon the business community; and a damaged economy hurts everyone in the long run, and weakens our armed forces as well. But to Zaggi, any and all wars are necessary—because he, unlike the Master of the Port, saw our salvation in land, not commerce.

My own view lay somewhere in between those of Pai and Zaggi, but I was sufficiently in sympathy with Pai to make my Uncle Zaggi very displeased with me. That’s why I cheerfully seconded the Chancellor’s next proposal—the appointment of Warati to command the garrison at Ziklag, and to run the city as well, with the rank of lieutenant colonel. All that remained was the formality of
Gath
’s consent, since
Gath
and Askelon shared responsibility for the border

district around Beer-Sheba, in which Ziklag was the Philistine strong point.

Warati beamed with pleasure—although it meant that he’d likely be fighting Judaeans rather than Danites. Inwardly, I felt that he was a man of altogether too much ambition, especially for a commoner; yet, as I say, I supported his appointment in hopes that I could mollify Uncle Zaggi. But the Cancellor still appeared to be upset because of his argument with Pai—or at least that was what I supposed to be the cause of his dark and nervous expression.

Maoch then brought up the next item of business. “Chancellor, shall we proceed to the Melek’s letter?” The Sheren had already read the document, of course, and so had I—as a member of the family—

but it was all news to Amphimachus and Pai, not to mention Warati; and so Zaggi would have to acquaint them with Nasuy’s proposal.

“Yes, m’Lord,” Zaggi began. “As you know, this letter is the main reason I asked for a meeting today. The Melek writes to say that he is enjoying good health, that
Gath
is prosperous, and her borders quiet—”

“That’s good news,” Pai broke in. “Then
Gath
can lead the way in paying for the expedition out of Ekron….”

Zaggi’s temper began to rise—and even Maoch looked cross; he certainly didn’t want
that
issue revived! After an icy stare at Pai, the Chancellor continued: “But the Melek is concerned about his brother, Prince Ekosh. The Prince is well, and high in the esteem of Pharaoh and the government of
Egypt
. The Egyptian army under Prince Ekosh has won its campaign against the Nubians. Yet Prince Ekosh has expressed his loneliness to Melek Nasuy. He’s been a widower these eleven years, and is childless, and both he and the Melek are afraid that the line of Nomion may become extinct in
Gath
.”

“Of course, you know that Melek Nasuy has outlived all of his male children,” Maoch remarked to Warati, who might not be fully aware of the situation in
Gath
. “And his only living grandson is much too young to hold the dual office of Sheren of Gath and Philistine

Melek.” He did not take note of two infant great-grandaughters, since our sherens and meleks have always been male warriors.

I felt tense, waiting for Zaggi to come to the crucial point.

“His Grace the Melek goes on to say that Prince Ekosh wishes a young, healthy bride of the Philistine nation. He doesn’t want to marry an Egyptian, deeming that unfavorable from a domestic, that is, Philistine point of view. Also, to choose one Egyptian noblewoman over others would be a delicate matter, to put it mildly. Therefore the Melek, after much consideration and consultation with his councilors, priests, and diviners, suggests that the most suitable bride for Prince Ekosh is the Lady Delai….” He gave that a moment to sink in. “I, too, have given the matter much thought,” the Chancellor went on. “I
had
envisioned my niece’s marrying into the
Ashdod
family….”

Zaggi now hesitated, almost as if he were still entertaining that idea. Needless to say, I was surprised.

Maoch’s eyes opened wide as he intervened: “Of course, Zaggi, it’s your right as her guardian to veto the Melek’s suggestion,” he admitted. “But just think of it! Our niece marrying Prince Ekosh!” I smiled to hear the Sheren using almost my very words of that morning.

But Zaggi was displeased by the interruption: “Please don’t misunderstand,” he hastened to assure our Sheren. “As her guardian, I approve of this marriage—and as your Chancellor, I recommend it, highly.” We were all relieved to hear that. “I do have some points to bring up, however,” Zaggi began again, turning to his brother. “Let us remember, my Lord, that our brother Pinaruta was illegitimate and did not himself marry highly; nor did he have a high position in our service.”

All of this annoyed me immensely. Why did Pinaruta’s status have to be brought up and rubbed in? Illegitimacy was nothing so unusual in noble Philistine families, except that Maoch and Zaggi had made it seem so, for their own purposes. And from that initial prejudice there logically followed the “low” marriage of Pinaruta and his lack of “high” office.

Zaggi had more to say: “We must remember that, for two reasons, the bride of Prince Ekosh should be very high in station: first, to be an equal to the Egyptian noble or royal ladies who might

have been candidates; and second—and more important—because Prince Ekosh may be the next Melek, and then Delai would not only be the Melek’s wife, but also one of the principal progenitors of the royal line of Nomion.”

The Sheren looked distressed: “But, Zaggi, you just said that you approve—and the Melek has suggested her.”

“I do approve, my Lord. But I feel that Delai’s low position obliges us to make her dowry very attractive, and she must have the most extensive religious and political guidance possible, so as to uphold the reputation of our family in
Egypt
, and to be worthy of our royal cousins.”

Now what, I wondered. These were thoughts which Uncle Zaggi hadn’t mentioned to me earlier.

“Why, I’m delighted by the offer,” old Amphimacus put in, amazed at Zaggi’s attitude. “I’m sure the Melek will send us a handsome bride-price, such that the dowry will not be a difficult problem. And I can testify that Delai has been well trained in religious matters, and seems quite pious….”

Pai stirred in his seat, restless, fearing that the proposed dowry might threaten his naval budget. Meanwhile, I jumped into the conversation, without thinking: “I also have no qualms over the marriage, or over Delai’s qualifications,” I announced—earning yet another sour look from Zaggi.

“Captain Phicol,” the Chancellor admonished, “there is, as you know, no question of the marriage. But there are problems here, I insist.”

Maoch again stepped in to relieve the tension: “Then, couldn’t we tell the Melek that we gladly accept his proposal on behalf of his brother? And the details of the dowry and the bride-price will be settled in conference between
Gath
and Askelon? Naturally, we’ll make a good showing. As for instruction…well, Zaggi, you’re her guardian; so you may instruct her as you see fit.”

“I had in mind,” Zaggi answered, “providing Delai with a personal advisor on religious and political matters—to go with her to
Egypt
and be part of her household.” Zaggi acted excited and seemed to have made his suggestion half without intending to do so. An uncomfortable pause followed.

“A good idea,” Warati commented, and another pause ensued as the proposal got digested.

The Sheren essayed a cautious remark: “I’d certainly consider such an idea….”

“I disagree!” I heard myself say—again speaking out of turn. “This is a family marriage, not a political affair. It would be an affront to Prince and Melek for us to build up such a household for Delai….” All eyes turned on me and I must have blushed as red as my kilt.

“Captain,” Maoch finally said, breaking the stony silence, “please wait until recognized before speaking.”

The High Priest then signaled his desire to have the floor. Smiling slightly at my discomfort, he addressed the Council: “I must say that I agree in essence with our over-eager Captain. To send a companion, or a small staff of servants, with Delai would be natural, expected, and acceptable. But to send a political or religious staff—even if it consisted of one lone person—would be appropriate only if