by Angela Hunt
“He is the perfect priest for the Hellenes,” I told my brothers. “He is popular without piety. Style without substance.”
Alcimus and his soldier escorts advanced to Jerusalem, where Bacchides oversaw Alcimus’s installation as high priest. Once the priest achieved a firm grip on his power, he and his Seleucid soldiers began to scour the countryside, searching for Hasidim and Maccabees to put to death.
Once again, my family left Modein and headed into the wilderness. Warriors from the army of Israel joined us, and again we lived like Bedouin as we attempted to stay ahead of Alcimus and his Seleucid henchmen.
As before, we heard stories of people who were tortured and killed, but Alcimus tended to use words as weapons. Desiring to strengthen his authority and popularity among the people, he led them on with kind words, speaking to everyone in a gracious and pleasant manner. Within weeks he had acquired a large group of supporters, most of whom were irreligious Hellenes. These men served as his attendants and soldiers whenever Alcimus ventured into the country. He visited cities and villages, wooing people with gentle speech, but whenever he found anyone who sympathized with the pious Hasidim or the Maccabees, he had them executed.
When my brothers and I heard about all Alcimus and the renegade Jews were doing in the heart of Judea, we realized they had done far more damage than the Gentiles.
Once again we summoned the army of Israel, picked up our swords, and retreated to our camp in the wilderness. Under the cover of night, we ventured into the cities and villages of Israel and sought the men who had aligned themselves with the treacherous priest. Then we took vengeance on them, for they were committing great evil in the sight of HaShem.
When Alcimus saw that my brothers and I had grown strong, and that righteous men joined us every day, he returned to the king in Antioch . . . to lie about us again.
After Alcimus went to Antioch and complained about us a second time, King Demetrius sent Nicanor, another Seleucid general, to Judea with orders to completely suppress “the seditious party of the Hasidim.” Though the Hasidim had amicably parted ways with me when I did not agree to support Alcimus, apparently the king believed a Hasid was anyone who believed in living by the Law of Moses.
But Nicanor did not come breathing fire and waving a sword. Like Alcimus, he came with pleasant words and even sent me a cordial invitation to meet with him. I was discussing the opportunity with Johanan and Simon when Leah stepped into the tent.
Her eyes darted to the scroll in my hand. “What is that?” she asked, her eyes narrowing. “Does Philander have a friend willing to take up our cause?”
I shook my head. “It is a message from Nicanor, a general under King Demetrius. He wants to meet me by the Gihon Spring.”
She laughed. “To discuss what, the weather? He cannot have anything good to say.”
“‘Let there be no fighting between you and me,’” I read. “‘I shall come with a few men to see you face-to-face in peace.’”
“Don’t trust him,” Leah said.
Simon grinned and jerked his thumb toward my wife. “Who would have dreamed she’d be giving you advice about generals?”
Leah blushed as I leaned back in my chair. “It is good advice. I’m tempted to follow it.”
“You could meet with him,” Johanan said, idly stroking his beard. “We could go with you—”
“It is most likely a trap,” Leah interrupted, dropping a large cheese onto the table. “What can he say in a meeting that he cannot say in a message? He is probably hoping your brothers will come, then he can capture all of you in one afternoon. Do not go to this meeting, Judah. Please.”
I crossed my arms and studied the woman. How long had it been since she told me she would have nothing to do with a warrior? She had changed over the years, but so had I. The war I undertook as a single task had become a full-time concern . . . and perhaps my life’s work.
I dropped Nicanor’s message onto the table and shoved it away. “So be it, then. I will listen to my wife and not meet with this general. If he wishes to show favor toward the sons of Mattathias, he can call off his armies and stop raiding villages where people worship Adonai and follow the Law of Moses.”
At that moment Jonathan stepped into the tent, his cheeks flushed and his eyes wide. “Everything is ready,” he said, “at Caphar Salma. Nicanor should receive the news soon.”
I grinned at Simon and Johanan. “About time we made the enemy come to us, don’t you think? Are you ready to make a little noise?”
Johanan reached for his sword belt and strapped it on. “I am always ready.”
I stood and turned to Leah, who had my sword belt in her hands. “Thank you.” I took it and kissed her cheek. “We must take a little journey, so you and Eneas must stay in camp,” I told her. “But if Adonai is willing, we will return soon.”
She nodded and did not protest as we went out to gather our horses.
Chapter Sixty-One
My brothers and I joined the army of Israel at the city of Caphar Salma before Nicanor and his forces could arrive. As I met with the local teacher to assure the residents of their safety, my men established a perimeter outside the city, hiding themselves in trees and behind the rocks of the surrounding plain. These were familiar tactics, to be sure, but they had always brought us success.
Nicanor had established his camp at Jerusalem and billeted his army in the citadel—of course. That cursed tower had been a thorn in my side ever since its construction.
Caphar Salma was located halfway between the holy city and the Beth-horon pass. Earlier in the day, the city’s Torah teacher sent a group of men to Jerusalem with news that Judas Maccabaeus’s men were in the town—as indeed they were—and if Nicanor wanted to capture them, he should come at once.
Now we waited, hoping the bait would prove irresistible.
We did not have to wait long. We spotted the telltale dust cloud at midday and waited in our concealed positions until the first squadron passed through the city gate.
From where I lay on the top of the gatehouse, I spotted the infamous Nicanor on a gleaming black stallion. A swarthy man with a close-trimmed beard, this friend of the king seemed like the type to be more at home in velvet and furs than in the desert. But he was now our chief foe. If we were going to defeat him, I needed to understand him.
Before the Seleucids could knock at the first house, Jonathan blew the shofar and my archers let their arrows fly. From their hiding places in the trees, on rooftops, and behind rock formations, the army of Israel killed more than five hundred of the enemy.
Caught unprepared and unable to pin down our locations, the enemy army turned and ran back the way they had come. Visibly fuming, Nicanor turned his horse and followed them, presumably regrouping his men on the way back to Jerusalem.
When they had gone, my men stacked the dead outside the city walls and barricaded the gate. Then we accepted the residents’ hospitality, enjoying a hearty meal before we returned to our camp.
Leah, Morit, and Ona met us with pale faces.
“What happened?” I asked.
Leah’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Jerusalem,” she said. “A scout has just arrived with news.”
“Send him to me.”
The scout, a young man from Bethlehem, came to my tent and shared his story with my brothers and me.
“That high and mighty Nicanor acts like a conquering king,” the man said, his eyes as round as one of Leah’s cheeses. “But he wasn’t happy when he returned to Jerusalem today. The priests went out to greet him and told him about the sacrifices offered every day for King Demetrius. They were hoping to impress the man, but he didn’t care even a little for their bowing and genuflecting. He twisted up his face and yelled that unless someone delivered Judas Maccabaeus into his hands, he would burn the Temple to the ground.”
The man paused to gulp water from a cup Leah offered, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “After that Nicanor stalked off toward the citadel, and even the Hel
lenes who had honored him had a change of heart. The priests began to weep, terrified that the Temple might be burned, and I could hear them praying from where I stood. ‘Be avenged,’ they kept saying, ‘O Lord, of this man and his army, and let them fall by the sword. Remember their blasphemies and don’t allow them to live.’”
Simon and I exchanged grim smiles. Could the Hellenes finally be realizing what these Greek Seleucids were really like?
“What is Nicanor planning?” Simon asked, leaning toward our visitor. “Any rumors?”
“No rumors, facts. An army is on its way to Judea to reinforce the soldiers who came down with Alcimus. They’re going to hunt you down, Judah, and they plan to kill you. That is why the priests are so worried—they’re afraid Adonai will help you escape and Nicanor will carry out his threat to burn the Temple.”
Johanan released a bitter laugh. “Sounds like the priests would rather see you hanged, brother.”
“That it does—but I don’t plan on giving them that pleasure. Anyone know where Nicanor is now?”
The scout nodded. “I talked to a servant who waits on the general. He is moving his camp to Beth-horon where he will meet the new reinforcements.”
I leaned back and looked at my two older brothers. “What do you say, then? If Nicanor and his new army are coming for us, where should he find us?”
“The area outside Adasa is nice and flat,” Simon said. “It’s the perfect battlefield.”
“True, but we have never done well on perfect battlefields.” I pressed my hands together. “On the other hand, we’ve never engaged Nicanor in open battle—our meeting at Caphar Salma was only a skirmish. Why don’t we let him think we’ll meet on the plain outside Adasa? Then we’ll show him how the army of Israel prefers to fight.”
My brothers grinned, and I turned to the scout. “My wife will get your dinner, so sit and relax, friend.”
“I couldn’t—”
“Feeding you is the least we can offer. You can fight with us, if you wish. Tomorrow morning we ride out to scout the area around Adasa.”
“How many men should we have?” Johanan asked. “We are not yet at full strength—”
“When has that ever mattered?” I said. “We will have as many as Adonai sends us.”
After a quick survey of the area around Adasa, we brothers agreed—we would ride out to the plain before dark, pitch our tents, and then hide our men in the scrub and low places of the chalky ground. We would do exactly what we had done at Lebonah when we had hidden ourselves and waited for Apollonius. After sunrise, Adonai willing, we would rise up and defeat Nicanor and his men, driving yet another evil from the land of Judea.
That afternoon, as I lay down to catch a quick nap, I drifted into a dream. In my vision I saw righteous Onias the First watching us fight at Adasa and holding up his hands like Moses at Rephidim. As long as Onias held up his hands, we were victorious over our enemies.
Then I saw an aged man, majestic in appearance, who held a sword of gold. The voice of Onias surrounded me, proclaiming that the second figure was Jeremiah the prophet. Then the prophet said, “Take this holy sword, a gift from God, with which you shall wound your adversaries.”
I accepted the sword, but when I woke, I found myself clinging to the sword of Apollonius, the blade I had used in every battle since the first.
I sat up and stared at the sword in my hand. I was still studying it when Leah came into the tent. Something in my expression must have alarmed her, for she stopped and gave me a curious look.
“Are you all right?” She dropped the basket she was carrying and sat on my pallet, placing her hand on my arm. “You look as though you have seen something disturbing.”
“I had a dream.” I lifted my eyes to meet hers. “Another one of those dreams.”
A faint flicker of unease glimmered in her dark eyes. “What—what did you dream?”
I smiled. “It was not bad, I don’t think. I saw Onias the First and Jeremiah, who gave me a golden sword. He said I would use it to wound my adversaries.”
She smiled and rubbed my arm. “That is a good dream.”
“Indeed it is.” Then, obeying an impulse, I took advantage of our solitude and drew her into my arms, kissing her like a man who has not seen the woman he loves in many, many days.
“Oh,” she whispered when I finally released her. “If you fight with half as much passion, you will do very well indeed.”
Chapter Sixty-Two
Leah
On the twelfth of Adar, I stood in the chilly afternoon shadows with my sisters-in-law as Judah and his brothers gathered the men and had them sit down. Judah stood, and in the ordinary voice he would use when speaking to his brothers, he told them of his dream. He added that he had awakened holding his own sword, though he had not lain down with it.
“I do not claim to interpret dreams,” he said, managing a humble smile, “but I believe Adonai wants us to know we can proceed in the confidence of His good pleasure. Our holy city, our worship, and our Temple are in danger, and we cannot let the Gentiles destroy us. We will not waste time, but will draw the enemy to us, facing them man-to-man and hand-to-hand.”
“Tomorrow,” one of the men said, “is the Sabbath. How can we lift our weapons and fight on a day that is sacred to HaShem?”
A slow smile spread across Judah’s face. “You are a newcomer?”
The man nodded.
“Then consider this,” Judah said. “This Gentile Nicanor is coming to attack us on the Sabbath, and he brings renegade Jews with him. They do not respect the day HaShem set apart as holy. They are coming to destroy their brothers, and we cannot let them succeed.”
A murmur of assent rippled through the group until Judah held up his hand. “As for us, we will travel to Adasa and be hidden by sunset. We will sleep on the earth, and in the morning we will stand and defend our people. And Adonai will give us the victory.”
“I heard,” another man called out, “that Nicanor has boasted that he will set up a monument in Jerusalem to commemorate his victory over you.”
Judah crossed his arms and chuckled. “I am fully confident that Adonai will not allow that to happen. Do not fear the enemy, brothers. Remember how the Almighty has helped us in times past. He will give us the victory this time as well.”
Judah continued, speaking of the battles they had already won, of the miraculous deliverance they had witnessed, and how many times they had returned without losing a single man. He lifted his hands to heaven and prayed, “Lord, when Hezekiah was king of Judah, you sent your angel who killed one hundred and eighty-five thousand of King Sennacherib’s men. Once again, Lord of heaven, send your good angel to make our enemies tremble with fear. With your great power, destroy these people who have slandered you and come down to attack your chosen people.”
By the time Judah had finished praying, every man present was on his feet, and even the youngest were walking as confidently as their older brothers and fathers.
Then Judah had the men form companies with their captains, and together they set out for Adasa as the sun lowered. With other women who had come to support the army, Ona, Morit, and I watched them go. Though we smiled at one another and pretended to be confident, I could not help but feel grave concern about the upcoming battle on open ground.
Chapter Sixty-Three
Judah
Once again I told my men to hide themselves in shrubs, tall grasses, and behind boulders. Only one thousand volunteers would fight with us today, but since they were what Adonai had provided, I would be content.
Sitting in the chilly air before sunrise, I remembered that the twelfth of Adar was the anniversary of Esther’s fast. She and her people had been condemned to death under the proclamation of wicked Haman and all had seemed hopeless. But because she fasted, prayed, and demonstrated remarkable courage in the face of a ruthless enemy, Adonai worked through her and saved His people.
Would we be as successful as Esther?
I rolled onto my bac
k and gazed up at the spangled heavens as I waited for morning. Dawn was already fading the night shadows, and a faint glow on the horizon revealed where the sun would soon rise.
Where were Nicanor and his men? I had heard rumors that more than nine thousand foot soldiers had arrived to reinforce his army, and for all I knew they might be only yards away from the empty tents we had set up as decoys.
I turned onto my belly when the sun spread a layer of gold on the horizon. From the hill where I lay I could see shapes stirring in the distant shadows, monstrous shapes that might be war elephants. I strained my ears and thought I heard the grumble of the huge beasts beneath the muffled tread of men shuffling into position.
I did not whistle. I had no need to alert my army because, like me, they were lying in wait, their attention focused on the plain below. The enemy was surrounding our empty camp, approaching as silently as possible on a Sabbath morning, weapons at the ready and war elephants evenly spaced among the companies.
I smiled as the shadows faded and color crept into the landscape. There they were, a splendid military array, their backs to us and their attention focused on a flat plain where no one slept.
Silently, I slid my arm through the strap on the back of my shield and rose to a standing position, feeling the pressure of my men’s eyes. I lifted the sword I won in my first battle and drew a deep breath. “For Jerusalem, the Temple, and Adonai!”
I ran forward, my shield lifted and my sword pointed at the unprotected rear of the enemy line. Behind me, my men sprang from their hiding places, all of them charging down the hill and attacking the vulnerable backs of men and horses and elephants. They had no idea what had happened. Fighting for Adonai and the lives of our people, we chased the Gentile army over the plain and scattered them like feathers in the wind.
Then I found myself face-to-face with Nicanor—I recognized him by his golden breastplate and helmet. Lifting my sword, I announced my name and told him I was about to kill him.
