by Brian Godawa
It did not matter that their legends and lore were lies, twisted half-truths, and misunderstandings. It still struck fear into their hearts, such that many of them jumped off the walls back into the city, thinking they would be smashed in the same way as Jericho.
But Ahiman was unmoved.
He had only one adversary with whom he had to concern himself: The puny human now approaching him on the field with javelin and shield.
Ahiman was dressed in his traditional Anakim berserker outfit that he used in the Pit of Death: A simple loincloth and leather belt, with the addition of shin greaves and leather foot toppings. Because of his vast height, it was easier for small opponents to wound his lower legs and feet, so leather wraps with some metal attached made it near impossible for them to hurt that sole vulnerable location.
He was covered in occultic tattoos. He was shaven bald and his face covered with war paint. Normally, he would have the lightning bolt of Ba’al across his face, but since that coward divinity’s desertion, he simply painted his skin gold so that he would appear to shine like a god himself, like a Shining One.
His extra-long neck made Caleb think of a serpent. It swayed back and forth with ritual movement. It was the tradition of the Anakim as they faced battle to strike fear in the hearts of their enemies, but all it did was make Caleb think of striking off his head as he would a snake.
Ahiman’s armaments were frightening. He carried no shield because he did not need it for protection. He was one hundred percent on the offensive without concern for defense. This aggressive confidence was another element of the Anakim that struck fear into their foes.
He carried a large mace in his left hand, and a strange new weapon in his right called a “flail.” It was a handle with a chain and a spiked ball attached to the end of it. Caleb had never seen it before, but he could instantly see its advantage. Such flexible weapons could strike with an additional pulverizing force not attainable with straight solid weapons. The lack of a sword meant that he was not interested in cutting Caleb; he wanted to pulverize him into a bloody pulp.
Caleb carried Rahab in his belt, but he would wait for the right moment to use it. He too had lighter weighted armor on, leather breastplate, a fighting kilt and flexible sandals. Israelites tended to have lighter armor in general, but in this case, it was even less helpful as a single hit from this beast would crush him to a pulp or cut him in half no matter what armor he wore. Minimal armor was an advantage for the way of the Karabu.
He grasped his javelin in his hand and his round shield in his other as he stepped up to meet the giant on the field half way between the armies.
The Anakim drums died down as the combatants circled one another.
Ahiman’s neck continued to sway, cobra-like, ready to pounce. He jeered Caleb, “You have one shot with your toothpick, Habiru. Make it count. Your shield will not protect you from my blows.”
Because Rahab was curled up in its peculiar sheath, Ahiman assumed it was some kind of hammer or dagger, which seemed more foolish to him. It was exactly the misunderstanding that Caleb had hoped he would have.
They continued to circle at a distance from one another.
Ahiman continued his swaggering and taunting, “I do not know what magic you used to defeat Jericho and the Canaanite coalition, but magic is of no impact on me.”
“It was not magic. It was the might of Yahweh against your perverted Seed of the Serpent.”
Ahiman replied, “Your god will masturbate to my rape of your wife. And when I gut her of your child, I will swallow it whole to die slowly in the juices of my gut. And I will shit out your chosen Seed into the dirt as fertilizer!”
Caleb said simply, “You have blasphemed my beloved and my god for the last time. As Yahweh lives, you will not leave this field today alive!”
They stopped in their pacing. Ahiman’s back was to the walls. He snorted contemptuously and said, “Take your last look at your beloved on the walls of the gate. I have many more blasphemies for them to watch.”
Behind Ahiman, Caleb could now see the forms of Rahab and Joshua, tied to poles that rose above the city walls for them to see the spectacle of death that was about to occur.
A shiver went down Caleb’s spine.
But it did not have the effect that Ahiman intended. Instead of disheartening Caleb, it energized him. It filled his body with a burning blast of determination, knowing he had their audience.
Which was a good thing, because Ahiman had done it all as a ruse to distract Caleb. He swung his ball and chain over his head. The six-foot long chain whistled through the air and the iron-spiked ball slammed into the ground where Caleb had been standing.
But he was no longer there, having jumped out of the way.
Caleb then ducked and rolled as the mace came swinging around from the other hand.
Up on the wall, Rahab and Joshua watched the battle from their imprisonment on the poles. Their arms were tied tightly to the cross pole of a T-shaped post. They could not move, and the rope caused bloody burns on their flesh from the rubbing pressure. But they felt no pain. Their hearts were too caught up in praying for Yahweh to fill Caleb with strength, speed, and favor.
Down on the field, Caleb’s shield was a bit clumsy and slowed him down dodging from the attacks. It was a little strange for him to be carrying such a useless piece of metal against the enormous titan that attacked him.
But it was not intended by Caleb to protect him. Rather, it was intended as a strategic distraction.
Ahiman began to deride Caleb again.
But the act of verbally attacking your enemy meant you were off your guard ever so slightly to focus your attention on your words instead of your actions.
That was when Caleb made his move.
The moment Ahiman began to blurt out another insult, Caleb immediately dropped his javelin and pulled off his shield, spinning in a circle to build momentum for a throw into the face of the gargantuan.
The shield flew through the air at the face of Ahiman. It hit his face and bounced off, falling to the ground. Of course it did not hurt him, it only surprised him for just a moment. It threw his attention. And as he shook his head back into attention, it was already too late.
Caleb had picked up his javelin, aimed, and thrust the “toothpick” at his opponent’s head.
Ahiman had not been prepared to protect himself against such trickery.
The javelin lodged into Ahiman’s ear and pierced his eardrum. He screamed in painful anger and reached up to pull the spear from his bloody ear and snapped it in two. He discarded the pieces and reacted immediately with more pummeling of his flail and mace at Caleb.
But what he did not anticipate was the result of the injury. Caleb had aimed for the ear with specific intent, and it was not merely to make him partially deaf. It was to throw him off balance. The inner ear is part of the stabilizing mechanism for the body. By puncturing it, Ahiman had lost his strong sense of balance. His twelve-toed feet may have had good grip on the ground, but that grip was not of much use with an unstable sense of balance.
Ahiman backed up to catch himself from falling. But as soon as he realized what had happened, he responded with a counter move. He knew he could not target Caleb directly now, so instead he unleashed a fury of blows, one after the other in rapid succession in the general direction of Caleb with the intent to overwhelm him with a tempest of blows—like a storm god.
One after another, the mace, followed by the flail, slammed into the ground where Caleb was. They were crushing blows that shook the ground with their force. And they would have submerged any other warrior in a rumbling deluge of destruction.
But Caleb was not any other warrior. He was a Karabu warrior. And he was unencumbered with weapons, so he danced, and dodged, and flipped and flew around the crushing blows.
It frustrated Ahiman, but he kept his attack until Caleb noticed he was slowing down. He was tiring.
Caleb jumped through Ahiman’s legs and rolled to a stand behind h
im.
Ahiman’s long neck turned to keep his eye on Caleb. But it caused him to stumble a bit from the dizzying motion. He brought his weapons around to continue the pummeling.
But Caleb had already drawn Rahab and unfurled it in preparation.
As Ahiman’s mace hit the ground near Caleb, Caleb snapped his blade at Ahiman’s face and it took off a chunk of his cheek in a bloody splash. He had been aiming for his eye.
Another mad swing of the flail and Caleb ducked and whipped. The deadly sting of Rahab connected with Ahiman’s neck and ripped another mass of flesh off him. But it also cut through his carotid artery.
Ahiman screamed in pain. Blood gushed out of his neck. He dropped his mace and put pressure on his neck with his hand to stop the bleeding.
Now he was only one handed. The spiked ball and chain however were the most dangerous.
Ahiman extended his arm for a swing, and Caleb whipped Rahab around the giant’s forearm.
If he got lucky, he could yank it and if not severe the forearm, at least slice it down to the bone, making it completely ineffective.
Unfortunately for Caleb, he had underestimated the mass of the Anakite’s flesh. It was much stronger than he had anticipated.
Ahiman dropped his flail and jerked his arm back.
Caleb went flying twenty feet in the air away from Ahiman and tumbled to a heap.
Ahiman removed the flexible angelic blade from his bleeding forearm and tossed it twenty feet in the other direction.
He stumbled toward Caleb, still off balance, bleeding profusely from his Rahab-inflicted gashes, with one hand holding his neck wound. He knew he was done for as a warrior. The damage this insect did to him was significant. He would no longer be the leader of his people. They might even execute him out of mercy for his weakness.
He had no weapon, no balance, and only one useless arm ripped to shreds by the whip sword. But he still had his twelve hundred pounds and that was enough to extinguish the life of this dirty little Habiru.
Caleb was beat up by his landing on the ground. He turned in time to see Ahiman approaching him. But he had no javelin, no sword, and no protection. He was flat on his back and disoriented. He barely had enough sense left in him to realize that this roaring giant was lunging at him in the air.
He could not think straight enough to move. But his warrior instinct did.
Caleb rolled out of the way and was missed by inches as the ground quaked with the weight of the gigantic hulk landing in the dust.
After Caleb rolled, he pulled out the dagger he had stashed in his belt. It was his wife Rahab’s secret dagger he had retrieved from the smoldering ruins of his camp back in Gilgal.
He leapt onto the back of the humongous monster, sliced the other carotid artery on the other side of his neck and jammed the dagger into the base of his skull up into his brain.
A loud screeching cry of death escaped Ahiman and the entire Anakim army knew that their champion was dead.
Caleb was huffing with the exhaustion of the fight. He leaned into the ear of his nemesis and whispered, “Compliments of my wife, you filthy serpent seed.”
He had been holding onto the dagger for just this very purpose since the kidnapping.
He pulled the blade out and raised it high to his forces.
They cheered with victory and ran to meet their champion commander.
Up on the poles, Rahab was crying with joy, and Joshua gave thanks to Yahweh for his victory.
But immediately, they were returned to their dungeon by Sheshai.
Sheshai and Talmai were dumbfounded with shock. They could not believe a rodent Habiru had just defeated their mightiest of gibborim. It was humiliating. They watched as warriors surrounded Caleb and gave him a sword with which to cut off the head of Ahiman.
Caleb then walked with weary legs closer to the wall to present the head to Sheshai and Talmai. He yelled, “I have triumphed over your champion! Now release the captives!”
But the Anakim did nothing.
“Fulfill your covenantal obligation in the name of Yahweh of Israel!”
But Talmai yelled back in response, “Go sodomize yourself, vermin! We have no obligation to keep our word with bloodsucking Habiru!”
Caleb stood in rage as his men surrounded him.
“Sheshai and Talmai of Arba, I will cut you in pieces and send them to the four corners of this land as a testimony of your damnation!”
Talmai responded, “I will see you on the battlefield, grasshopper!”
Caleb spun around like a discus thrower and hurled the king’s head at Talmai, who had to duck to avoid the bloody mess from hitting him.
Caleb led his men back to camp.
At a short distance he saw that the three commanders who were with Joshua had arrived with their three thousand men, fresh from their victories in the Shephelah lowlands.
They now had six thousand warriors ready for battle.
Caleb grinned and said to those with him, “Prepare the siege ladders. We attack tomorrow.”
Chapter 56
Sheshai entered Ahiman’s personal chambers to gather the crown and royal robe used for ceremonial occasions. He had told his brother to ready the elders of the city for an emergency coronation of him as the new king of Kiriath-arba. Sheshai had taken a personal guard with him of ten soldiers. He was the next in line for the throne, but he wanted to intimidate the elders to move quickly without questioning.
There would be no time to even perform the ceremonial march through the city as Ahiman had done when he was crowned. He would simply go before the elders and they would give their unanimous approval and he would ascend to his rightful place.
He could not believe it. What luck. He had spent so much energy trying to rule by proxy through Ahiman. It had been so bothersome and tricky. But now, thanks to the unexpected blessing of Ahiman’s surprise defeat at the hand of a despicable Habiru, he had his dream. He would be the direct ruler of his people, something for which he had lusted so many years.
He was trembling with excitement as he rushed over to the palace to meet the elders of the city in hurried assembly for crisis.
The gathering was in the throne room. The eight elders arrived out of breath. They knew they had to deliberate quickly, something governments were not accustomed to doing.
They stood along the walkway up to the throne. They would have to unanimously agree to Sheshai’s ascension, and then he would walk up to the throne, have the crown and robe placed on him. Then the royal scepter and a large mace would be given to him by the head elder who would cite the ceremonial words of approval of the elders, and Sheshai would be king.
Sheshai pushed open the doors and marched up to the front of the room with his ten guards following him. They took their places surrounding him protectively as he placed the crown and garment on the throne of bones.
He was rushing. Everyone was rushing. They had to move quickly. They were at war.
Sheshai looked around and said impatiently, “Where is my brother? He should be here by now! Elder Adab, do you have the royal scepter?”
“Yes, my lord,” said Adab.
“We will have to move ahead without Talmai.”
But then Sheshai was interrupted by the big oak doors opening to Talmai. He was dressed in his general’s garb of armor and cape with metal necklace covering his long neck.
“Brother Sheshai!”
Everyone turned to see Talmai strutting forward to the throne, followed by a company of fifty armed soldiers.
“What in Sheol are you doing?” complained Sheshai as the soldiers split apart and walked behind the elders, surrounding them ominously.
Talmai stood in the midst of the walkway staring up at Sheshai with a maleficent look on his face.
“My dear brother, what I am doing is engaging in what is commonly known as a coup d’état.”
Talmai clapped his hands twice and the soldiers all grabbed the elders from behind and drew daggers across their throats, dropping th
em all to the floor in puddles of spurting blood.
Sheshai was so surprised by his brothers’ actions; he stood there with frozen face in shock. He had not seen it coming.
Sheshai quickly gathered his wits and barked to his ten guards, “Arrest the general immediately!”
But his guards did not move.
“I said, arrest him!”
But the guards slowly stepped away from Sheshai and turned to face him, displaying their loyalty to Talmai.
“You see, brother,” said Talmai, “there are advantages to being the general of the army. A certain access to necessary power.”
Talmai nodded to the guards and they grabbed Sheshai. They bound his hands behind him with chains.
“Talmai, why are you doing this? We would be coregents. It was our plan.”
“It was your plan. It has always been your plan, and your schemes, and your ambition to the throne. I am fed up with your insatiable lust for control. I will not be your puppet or your dog.”
Sheshai was uneasy with alarm. “You have neither the temperament nor the political maturity to rule our people.”
“I have the power. That is all I need to rule our people. For that is all we respect.”
Sheshai said, “At least let me help you strategize for this battle. I do not think you realize just who you are facing.”
“I am facing greasy little Habiru who do not know who they are facing.”
Talmai turned to the guards, “Throw him in the prison with the others. And keep him bound.”
One of the guards said, “Shall we bring the hostages to you?”
“Keep them there for now. I will kill them and eat them at our victory feast after the war.”
• • • • •
Achsah was alone in a small clearing facing the northeast, where the tabernacle in Gilgal was. She had been praying to Yahweh on behalf of her father and had not heard the news.
But she heard the sound of someone approaching her from behind.
