Chariots to jordan, p.17
Chariots to Jordan, page 17
Except for a quick, high-pitched zing as Uzzi released his arrow, there was no noise. The arrow covered the twenty-foot distance to the soldier in a split second, entering his back and tearing through his body with such force that the tip protruded out his chest. The soldier crumpled to the ground without a sound. Uzzi silently moved to where the man lay, made certain he was dead, and began stalking the second archer with the same stealth he stalked a deer.
* * *
Caleb struggled to the cave’s entrance and dropped down beside Hanan. “Here, take these,” he said, shoving the bow and two quivers filled with arrows toward his brother. “What has happened?”
“The man on the horse is directly below us, in the trees and rocks. Four of the soldiers are hiding behind those rocks to the right,” he said, pointing down the hillside. “I don’t know where the other two men are. I haven’t seen them since they started up into the rocks and trees on the left. What do we do now?”
Caleb shook his head. “I don’t know, Hanan. I guess we wait.”
“Wait for what?”
Caleb shrugged. “For them to attack?” It was a question not a statement.
* * *
Adad looked up the hillside at the cave’s entrance then weaved his horse around rocks and trees to where the four soldiers had taken cover behind rocks. “I saw only one person—a boy, I think,” he shouted from astride his horse. “Spread out, and be prepared to rush the cave.”
The four soldiers exchanged nervous glances. One of them pointed toward the cave and said, “Beyond here there’s no cover. If he has a bow, we’ll be easy targets. What of our archers? Where are they?”
“They’re working their way through the trees on our right flank. Once they see us begin our assault, they’ll race in from their position. Now get ready. On my command, we charge.”
* * *
Except for the snap of a dry twig, Uzzi could have dispatched the second archer as easily as the first. The man was resting against a large cedar tree, panting heavily from the strain of climbing the steep hillside.
When Uzzi was still forty feet away, he eased his foot over a decaying log and stepped on an unseen branch, snapping it in two. In the quiet of the tree-covered hillside, the snap echoed like thunder.
In one swift movement the soldier spun around, launched an arrow, and ducked behind the tree. The shot was poorly aimed, and the arrow glanced off a rock beside Uzzi, landing harmlessly in the dirt.
At the same instant the soldier shot, Uzzi released his arrow, but the soldier’s quick movement saved him. Rather than strike in the chest, where Uzzi had aimed, the arrow pierced the soldier’s left bicep, lodging in the bone as he ducked behind the tree. Seeing his botched shot, Uzzi yanked another arrow from his quiver and notched it in his bow.
As Uzzi sidestepped his way toward the tree, he watched the soldier grasp the shaft and gingerly give it a slight tug. The arrow didn’t move; it was lodged too deeply in the bone. His left arm useless, the man dropped his bow and pulled his long Damascus sword from its scabbard. Lurching from behind the tree, he took only two steps before Uzzi’s second arrow struck him solidly in the chest, dropping the soldier to his knees.
Uzzi looked on in horror as the man struggled to his feet—first one leg and then the other—and charged, yelling as he came. Uzzi drew another arrow from his quiver and let it fly. The impact of the arrow in the man’s chest stopped him in his tracks. He swayed slightly and fell onto his back, staring blankly at the blue sky.
Uncertain what to expect, Uzzi notched another arrow on the bowstring and took aim at the dying man. Walking forward, Uzzi kicked the sword from the man’s hand and watched as blood dripped from the corner of his mouth. The archer stared at Uzzi through pain-filled eyes.
Uzzi backed away as his stomach suddenly grew queasy. In less than an hour, he had killed two men, and now a third was about to die. Killing an animal for food was one thing, but as Uzzi watched the man’s labored breathing, the finality of taking another human life sank deep in his soul. Then, in the only way he could justify his actions, he said to the dying man, “You should never have tried to hurt my family, and I wouldn’t have come after you.” Lowering his aim and relaxing the tension on the bowstring, Uzzi turned around and began working his way up the hillside.
* * *
Hanan stared down at the rocks on the far side of the clearing and asked nervously, “Caleb, do you think they’ll attack us slowly or rush up the hillside?”
Caleb swiveled his head around. The expression on Hanan’s face was one of pure panic. In a false sense of calmness, Caleb replied, “If it was me, I would creep up the hillside.”
“Why?” Hanan asked nervously.
“I don’t know.” Caleb shrugged. “That’s just what I’d do.”
Scanning the hillside below him, Hanan shook his head. “Not me; I’d charge up all at once.”
Caleb was about to ask why when he saw a lone figure step out from the trees, far to their left. Shaking Hanan’s arm, he said, “It’s Uzzi.”
“Where?” Hanan asked, raising himself on his elbows.
“Over there, to our left,” Caleb said and immediately followed it forcefully with, “Keep down.”
Standing to the side of a tree that shielded him from the view of Adad and the remaining soldiers, Uzzi raised both hands high above his head twice in rapid succession, paused, and then did it again.
“Why’s he doing that?” Hanan asked in total confusion.
“I don’t know,” Caleb said equally perplexed.
“Do you think he—”
“I’ve got it,” Caleb interrupted. “He’s telling us he’s taken care of the two soldiers that we couldn’t see.”
Hanan raised his eyebrows. “You think so?”
“That must be it. Why else would he be standing out there like that?”
* * *
At that precise moment, Adad spurred his horse in the ribs and shouted, “Charge them!”
In a military sense, it wasn’t much of a charge. At the unexpected gouge of the spurs, the horse reared upward rather than forward. Although he clamped his legs around the horse’s ribcage, Adad couldn’t maintain his seat and tumbled backwards. Doing a complete somersault, he landed on his back, the jolt knocking the air completely out of his lungs. He lay on the ground, thrashing about trying to breathe.
Seeing their leader thrown to the ground, the four foot soldiers came to a stop only two steps into the charge and stood with their swords at their sides. They stared at their unhorsed leader in bewilderment.
“Get my horse!” Adad coughed out as he struggled to his knees. But by the time he gave the command, the horse was running at a full gallop through the rocks and trees like a deer bounding through a forest. All five men watched the black horse dart and weave until it disappeared from sight.
Disgusted at the turn of events, Adad shouted angrily, “Charge them, you fools!”
The first few strides the soldiers made were quick and intensive, but the steep slope and the long march earlier in the day took their toll. The running quickly turned to fast walking followed almost immediately by strained plodding. Advancing as slowly as they were, with no bowmen to provide cover, the five men were easy targets.
* * *
Uzzi shouted with glee as Adad fell from his horse. Instantly slipping back into the protective cover of the rocks and trees, he began running. If he could get within bowshot of the five soldiers and yet remain in the trees, they would be trapped in the clearing between himself and Hanan and Caleb. It would be five hardened soldiers against three inexperienced youth, but he and his brothers would have the advantage of cover. With legs racing and heart pounding, Uzzi raced through the maze of boulders and trees, oblivious to the tree branches slapping him in the face as well as to the rocks and stones that gouged his sandal-clad feet.
Stopping behind a large rock, Uzzi slid to the ground and leaned against the sun-warmed boulder. He was in the perfect position to end this nightmare in the next few minutes. Taking several deep breaths, he wiped sweat from his brow with the palm of his hand and then wiped his palm on the front of his dirty, bloodstained robe. The sight of his father’s blood unleashed a firestorm of sorrow, anger, frustration, fear, and hope, colliding in an unyielding battle. Reaching over his shoulder, Uzzi withdrew an arrow from the quiver and notched it solidly on the bowstring. Rising cautiously he peered over the top of the rock. “A few more steps,” he mumbled to himself. “Wait until they’re a little closer to Hanan and Caleb.” He wanted them trapped at an equal distance between any cover.
Standing behind the rock, Uzzi took careful aim at the back of the soldier nearest to him. The arrow had barely cleared the bow before Uzzi dropped behind the rock, reaching once more into his quiver. He didn’t need to see to know the arrow had found its mark. The loud scream of pain followed by shouting and yelling told him another man was dead. Confusion was setting in.
Drawing the bow to its fullest, Uzzi rose from behind the rock and instantly picked his next target. This one, facing directly toward him, died with a look of complete confusion on his face as the arrow ripped through his leather tunic just above his breastplate. As he watched the man sink to his knees, Uzzi pulled another arrow from his quiver and picked his next target: the man who had been astride the horse.
* * *
Hanan rose to his feet and slipped an arrow on his bowstring as Uzzi’s second arrow found its mark. Looking down, he watched as the soldiers suddenly abandoned their charge and searched for cover. Drawing the bow as much as he could, Hanan aimed at one of the soldiers, closed his eyes, and released the bowstring. The arrow sailed through the air in a glorious arc, flying high above the heads of the confused soldiers and landing almost at Uzzi’s feet. As the arrow flew harmlessly overhead, the three soldiers trapped in the clearing immediately knew which way offered their best chance of survival. With fear and adrenaline charging their legs, they rushed up the hill.
Putting another arrow in his bow, Uzzi raced from behind the rock and into the clearing. The men were moving beyond the effective range of his bow, and he had to close the gap.
Slowing to a walk, Uzzi drew the bow, fired, and watched as the arrow fell a dozen feet behind the nearest man. Pulling another arrow from the quiver, he notched it on the bowstring while he ran forward. Knowing he needed accuracy, he stopped, sucked in a deep breath, and took careful aim. The arrow’s razor-sharp point sliced through the thick leather tunic of the nearest fleeing soldier and lodged itself deep between the man’s shoulder blades. The soldier dropped to the ground, futilely pawing at the arrow in his back before he stopped moving. Only two left, Uzzi thought to himself as he again set an arrow on his bowstring. Inhaling, exhaling, then inhaling once more, Uzzi held his breath and drew his bow to its maximum pull. But just then, Adad unexpectedly turned to face him.
* * *
Caleb watched Hanan’s poorly aimed arrow land harmlessly in the dirt. “Lower your aim,” he said as Hanan pulled another arrow from the quiver.
Hanan didn’t acknowledge the comment. He was fighting to control his trembling hands so he could notch an arrow on the bowstring. With the arrow in place, he rose to his feet, pulled back on the string, and froze. “Caleb, look!” he screamed as he accidently released the arrow, which whistled through the air and struck the dirt only twenty feet in front of him.
Caleb scrambled to his feet and stared down the hillside. Adad and the remaining soldier had climbed most of the way across the open ground. In a desperate attempt to get within bowshot, Uzzi had raced after them and was standing unprotected in the middle of the clearing with his bow drawn. Beyond Uzzi, half a dozen soldiers with bows and a dozen more brandishing swords were emerging from the trees and bolting up the hillside. Far beyond, beside the shed where Gideon’s body lay, stood a man in a chariot.
Hanan and Caleb stood, mouths agape and their hands hanging limply at their sides. They watched in total helplessness as the first of three soldiers let fly with an arrow. The arrow slammed into Uzzi’s upper leg, knocking him off balance and spinning him to face his attackers. The second arrow sliced into the muscle and tissue of Uzzi’s left shoulder, but only after the boy had instinctively released his own arrow. As the third archer released his arrow into the hot afternoon air, Uzzi’s own arrow was on its mission of death. The two arrived at their intended targets at exactly the same moment. Uzzi’s arrow entered the third archer’s open mouth, tore through his throat, and lodged in his spine. As the soldier helplessly pawed at the arrow in his throat, Uzzi rocked sideways with the momentum of an arrow that had buried itself in his left side just below his ribcage. Uzzi dropped to the ground in a lifeless heap.
“Hurry, Hanan, into the cave!” Caleb screamed, but the fourteen-year-old boy stood transfixed, looking at the motionless, arrow-riddled body of his older brother. “Now!” Caleb grabbed the sleeve on Hanan’s robe and pulled his brother down the slight decline of the tunnel toward the cave’s main chamber.
Without a lamp to light their way, the two boys stumbled in the darkness of the long shaft. They felt their way along the tunnel’s damp walls until the dim light of the still-burning fire came into view. “Praise Jehovah the fire is still burning,” Caleb said, trotting toward the main chamber with Hanan close behind.
Slowing only enough to snatch a stick of burning wood from the fire, Caleb hurried to the back of the cave where the small stream of water disappeared into a small opening less than a foot tall and eighteen inches wide. “Come, Hanan, we must escape this way,” Caleb said.
Hanan stood by the fire shaking his head. “No, Caleb, I’m not going that way. I’m going out through the roof, out to where Samara is.”
Caleb’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Are you crazy? You’ll never make it up the steps let alone through the split before the soldiers get here.”
Hanan shook his head. “I have plenty of time,” he replied with a shaky voice. “They’ll never come in here without a torch, and by the time they get one, I’ll be gone.”
“Please, Hanan, you won’t have time. Come with me.”
“No, I’m going to where Samara is.”
Caleb let out a sigh and shook his head in dismay. Then on impulse, Caleb ran back to where Hanan was standing and hugged him tightly. “Jehovah be with you.”
“And with you as well,” Hanan replied.
“I’ll hide out in the caves for two days, and then I’ll meet you back at the house,” Caleb said and then added, “Tell Mother and Gili that I love them.”
Hanan nodded his head, and the two brothers wrapped their arms around each other in a final quick embrace.
Without saying another word, Caleb trotted back to the stream. Lying on his back in the cold, trickling water, he inched into the small opening. Looking back at Hanan one last time, he listened to the brief hiss of the small flame as he doused the stick in the water and began pushing with his heels and wriggling his body into the total darkness of the opening.
Chapter Twenty-Six
With a deep breath, Miriam filled her lungs with air then slowly let it escape through her nose. She closed her eyes and turned her face upward, letting the sunshine flood her skin with warmth and light. “I’m so glad to be free of that narrow passage,” she said as she pulled Samara up the last couple feet of the shaft.
“It feels wonderful,” Samara agreed as she brushed her long hair from her face with her scraped and bleeding fingers.
Miriam knelt beside the narrow shaft and called down, “Gili, are you okay?”
“Yes, Mother, I’m fine,” the soft voice purred out.
“I’m going to lie on my stomach, and Samara is going to hold my legs and lower me down. You need to reach as high as you can and grasp my hands. Do you understand?”
There was no response.
“Gili, do you understand what I said?”
There was another longer pause and then, “Mother,” Gili said with alarm in her voice, “I’ve forgotten my stone.”
Miriam’s mind raced, but she didn’t understand. “What stone?”
“The pretty one, the stone Prophet gave me.”
Miriam’s eyes suddenly widened as a wave of anxiety swept over her. Before Miriam could say anything, the small voice at the bottom of the shaft said, “I must go back for it.”
“No!” Miriam screamed in panic. “You must not.”
“I left it beside my sheepskin pillow in the cave.”
Miriam pushed herself forward and leaned over the edge of the shaft, her head and arms dangling in the air below her. “Gili, you must not go back. Reach up and grab my hands, NOW!”
“Mother, I can’t leave my stone here. I must go get it.”
“Gili, I’ll get you another stone, but please, please take my hand,” she begged. “Please!”
“Mother, it will be all right,” the girl said, sounding as if she were an adult. “I’ll take the lamp, hurry down, and get my stone. I know exactly where I left it. I’ll be back in just a minute.”
“GILI!” Miriam screamed. “Don’t go!” She shoved herself forward in a desperate attempt to grab her daughter.
It was only Samara’s quick action that stopped Miriam from plummeting headfirst down the shaft. At the same instant Miriam grabbed for Gili, Samara lunged forward and grasped Miriam’s ankles. With her sandals skidding in the loose gravel and sand, Samara fought to stop Miriam’s headlong plunge. Slowly, she tugged and pulled a sobbing Miriam from the shaft.
