Caleb Vigilant

by Brian Godawa

  After they had completed their victory over the Amorites, Joshua sent Caleb and Othniel with a company of several hundred men to pursue the fleeing kings as Joshua led his forces on a warpath south through the lowlands of the Shephelah.

  • • • • •

  On his way to Libnah, Joshua received word from Caleb that he and Othniel had found the five kings hiding in the caves of Makkedah on the way to Kiriath-arba and Kiriath-sepher. They rolled a large stone over the caves to trap them until Joshua could arrive.

  When Joshua finally arrived at Makkedah, they rolled the stone back from the cave and brought out the five Amorite kings who had led their forces against Israel at Gibeon.

  Of particular interest to Joshua was Hoham, the giant king of Kiriath-arba. He knew that city would be the most formidable of all to defeat. It had been those Anakim who had captured Joshua and Caleb many years ago when they had spied out the land for conquest.

  These were the mighty giants as tall as cedars who had been nurturing a vengeance for centuries against the Seed of Abraham. Joshua was concerned about the might of these people and was putting off that city to the very end of the southern campaign, hoping that his own soldiers would be far more experienced and battle-hardened by then to be able to take on the fearsome Anakim warriors.

  But now, with the king of that city in his hands, he had just achieved an advantage that could only be attributed to Yahweh’s gift.

  They hog-tied the kings and threw them to the ground at Joshua’s feet. He called forth the five commanders of thousands and another eight of the commanders of hundreds.

  Then he told them, “Put your feet on the necks of these kings.”

  They obeyed. Each king had several feet on his neck. Their faces pressed into the ground.

  Joshua said, “Do not be afraid or dismayed. Be strong and courageous. For thus will Yahweh do to all your enemies in this land.”

  The kings were pathetic shadows of the soldiers they commanded. The kings of Lachish and Debir were crying. Piram, the king of Jarmuth had actually crapped in his robe out of fear. And Adonizedek had become hysterical, begging for mercy, “Please do not kill me. Please do not kill me. I do not want to die!”

  The only ruler who was not in tears was Hoham of Kiriath-arba.

  He was laughing.

  Caleb looked around fearing an ambush or trap of some kind. He alerted his men to keep an eye out for any sign of subterfuge.

  Joshua then had every one of the commanders whose feet were upon the necks plunge their swords into the king’s chests.

  All of them were executed, except Hoham, whom Joshua kept alive. He wanted Hoham to face his destiny a little longer for effect.

  But Hoham kept laughing.

  Joshua knelt down and looked challengingly into Hoham’s face.

  The commanders let Hoham raise his grime-filled face from the dirt. He looked up at Joshua with broken teeth and a bloody nose. But he was still chuckling as if he were getting the last laugh.

  “Do you have a funny joke you would like to share with us before you meet your maker in judgment?”

  Hoham spit out some dirt and pebbles and said, “You think you have won. But you have not. You have lost. More importantly your god has lost.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “While you have been chasing us out here in the lowlands, I sent my finest warriors, Sheshai and Talmai, with an elite squad of assassins to your camp at Gilgal.”

  Joshua’s face dropped.

  Caleb’s whole body was charged with shock. He knew those brothers. All of Canaan knew those brothers as the most fearsome of all the Anakim giants.

  Othniel had felt the same shock as Caleb had. For Achsah was Caleb’s daughter, certainly in the pathway of damage for any assassination of Caleb’s wife.

  Hoham continued to sputter, “Right now, they are feasting on the flesh and bones of your Chosen Seed, Rahab and her family.”

  Caleb started to shake. His knees almost buckled.

  Othniel clenched in fear.

  “You will kill me. But I killed your coming king. And ate him.”

  Caleb trampled over to Hoham and pushed the commanders away. He turned Hoham over onto his back.

  He jumped on top of his chest and grabbed Hoham’s head. The monster was still laughing as he glared into Caleb’s eyes. Caleb grabbed the head of the ten-foot tall giant in his hands, and squeezed with all his might.

  His sweat dripped down onto Hoham’s face that turned from a cackling grin into a painful grimace under the pressure.

  Then Hoham began to growl. His eyeballs bulged, and his growl turned into a squeal, that was stopped short by the loud sickening crunch of his collapsing skull.

  Caleb got off the still dead form of Hoham and stumbled back to his horse in a delirium. And then with a renewed determination in his eyes, he kicked his horse and sprinted out of there.

  Joshua knew where he was going. And he let him go.

  Othniel almost shouted with desperation to Joshua, “Commander, permission to join my brother.”

  “Granted.”

  Othniel leapt onto his horse and followed Caleb’s exit.

  Joshua prayed after his galloping comrade, “May Yahweh have mercy on you, Caleb ben Jephunneh.”

  He then sent a division of one thousand men after them to Gilgal, to protect the camp. He would never let something like this happen again.

  He looked back down on Hoham and the others on the ground, and commanded his men, “Hang them on five trees until the evening. Then put them back in their cave of cowardice and seal it with the stone. Tomorrow, we devote Makkedah to destruction, and then the entire Shephelah lowlands.”

  Chapter 50

  The brothers Arba and their squad of five surviving Anakim saboteurs had arrived at Kiriath-arba with their hostages several days earlier.

  When they received the news that their king Hoham was dead, they could not be more joyous at the news. They did not need to lead a coup or secret assassination after all. Ahiman would simply step into the royal vacancy provided by the tragic murder at the hands of the Habiru. The brothers would turn it into a propaganda campaign of revenge that would fuel their people and strengthen their grip on the reins of power.

  It could not have been a better gift to them. But for the next few days, they would have to put on a façade of mournful faces. They would not want the populace to be aware of their celebration or their political schemes.

  The brothers presided over funerary ceremonies for their dead missing king at the megalithic circle of stones, called a gilgal, at the top of their ridge. Since they did not have the body, they used a carved statue of him in effigy and placed it beside the body of his wife, whom they killed to accompany him into the afterlife, as was the custom. Her body was left to the vultures in excarnation. The bones would be buried in a royal ossuary in the catacombs below the gilgal.

  Next was the coronation of Ahiman as king. It was an elaborate affair that was shortened to the ceremony alone, without the seven-day celebration, because of the urgent nature of the war that was upon them.

  A long procession strode through the main thoroughfare of Kiriath-arba.

  Ahiman was at the front of the parade standing in his royal iron war chariot, a huge golden-plated ceremonial vehicle drawn by a dozen horses because of Ahiman’s gargantuan size and weight.

  Talmai, the new general of the army, flanked him on his left, Sheshai, his Right Hand. In truth, Sheshai was Ahiman’s puppet master, ruling by proxy through his brother who did not have the intellectual acumen for statesmanship. The brothers Arba would bring in a new era for the Anakim, a new reign of terror that would forever shake off the chains of Egyptian vassalage and would grind these Habiru into dust and scatter their seed to the four winds.

  Behind them were the musicians, beating heavy military percussion and blowing a hundred trumpets and horns of grandeur.

  Next came the dancers, naked men and women who jerked and spasmed in chaotic movements and
cut themselves in expression of the dissonant religious philosophy of the Anakim.

  They left a trail of their blood drippings to be tread upon by the next section of the parade: The new administration, consisting of some carryovers from the old administration and replacements for those killed for lack of trust by the new administration.

  A long train of marching soldiers came next, in rigid lockstep, with the Anakim salute of power. Their straight right arms held in a fist, with the other arm bent at a perpendicular angle; fist thrust into the elbow joint. This was an affirmation of the new focus on militaristic rule that the brothers would bring.

  At the end of this long parade was a caged cart that carried Rahab, her brothers and sisters, and Achsah. They were included in the ceremony for propaganda purposes to incite more support for Ahiman’s preparations for war.

  It made the masses rabid.

  After the cheering of the new king and his administration and forces, the crowds then turned to hatred, pelting the prisoners at the tail with dead rats and excrement, chanting with hatred, “Habiru, Habiru, Habiru!”

  Inside the cart, Rahab tried to protect her pregnant belly from the putrid splattering. She felt as if their vileness and hatred could be transferred from the fecal matter to her precious unborn child.

  Rahab’s sisters were crying, and her brothers sought to shield them from the thrown feces.

  The youngest, Yasha, noticed Achsah’s lack of concern. She stood stoically looking forward, with a determined and slightly satisfied look on her face.

  Yasha said to her sister, “Rahab, why is Achsah without fear? She looks—happy.”

  Rahab was looking at Achsah herself with a satisfied knowing look.

  She said to Yasha, “Because she knows her father is coming to get us.”

  • • • • •

  Ahiman and his brothers ended up at the temple of Ba’al to offer sacrifices to their god of power.

  They entered the courtyard with their sacrifice of bull, goat, and lamb. But the coronation and obeisance to the Most High would not be complete without the necessary human sacrifice on the tophet in the inner sanctuary.

  It would be neither customary nor expedient to sacrifice the captured women and children, because that would deprive them of the more calculated usefulness as hostages.

  What was customary during dire times of suffering or war was to sacrifice the offspring of significant figures in the city in order to appease the gods and stave off disaster. They would be the children of elders, political officials, or rich merchants. In this case, it would be the five children of the newly deceased King Hoham. They ranged in ages from twelve to twenty-years old. It was both standard practice and convenient opportunity to eliminate any rival to the throne of past monarchs.

  But after the flesh of Hoham’s children was burning like incense to Ba’al’s nostrils, Sheshai asked the high priest, “Where is Lord Ba’al?”

  The high priest gave a shady look at his assistants and muttered, “He has left Kiriath-arba.”

  “What? When did he leave?” asked Sheshai, perturbed.

  “The morning you brought the hostage Habiru into the city.”

  Talmai butted in, “What kind of coward is he? He runs because he knows the Habiru are coming?”

  “Silence,” said Sheshai. He turned back to the priest, “Did he say he was returning?”

  The high priest paused uncomfortably.

  “No.”

  Talmai stepped forward and picked up the high priest with a roar and threw him against the wall with all his strength.

  The body splattered blood and gore all over the wall. It had been heaved so forcefully that it stuck on the brick like a sick looking puppet of death before sliding down to the floor in a crumpled heap of dead flesh.

  Talmai then bellowed another roar of anger.

  The other priests scattered to escape the temple with their lives.

  Sheshai shouted, “CONTROL YOURSELF!”

  Talmai stopped and was heaving with angry breaths. “He was a traitor to keep that from us. To keep it from the king. Without the god’s presence we will be weakened. You know that, brother.”

  “Yes, I do,” said Sheshai. “Nevertheless, your rage will be your undoing, if you do not control it! Fear is not the only passion that blinds a warrior against his own weakness. Rage is its equal.”

  They were both interrupted by the voice of the unheard Ahiman, with his deep base resonance. “We need no gods.”

  They turned to look up at their towering sibling, now king, now more confident than ever.

  “There is only one god: Power.”

  • • • • •

  Rahab was brought before the king and his brothers at the throne room. Ahiman sat majestically on the throne of bones. Sheshai to his right, Talmai to his left.

  The fact that Rahab was guarded by two Anakim was ridiculous looking as her small frail pregnant figure was dwarfed by the nine foot tall colossal monsters. It was like ordering two grizzly bears to guard a kitten.

  Sheshai spoke sarcastically, “So, you, a common harlot, are the chosen vessel of this god, Yahweh? How would he know if the child is his or one of a hundred others?”

  Talmai sniggered.

  Rahab was not intimidated. She stood her ground proudly.

  “I am not a harlot anymore.”

  Talmai snorted, “Give me five minutes with you. Once a harlot, always a harlot.”

  “I have been redeemed, made clean by Yahweh’s atonement, and adopted into Israel as a royal child.”

  Sheshai said, “What a strange deity, this Yahweh. To use such lowly dregs, such—outcasts. So is this child inside you his? Did Yahweh please you with his manhood?”

  “The child in my womb is the son of Caleb ben Jephunneh, the Right Hand of Joshua ben Nun, the leader of Israel. But if he is Yahweh’s chosen seed, you can do nothing to thwart his plans.”

  Sheshai chuckled, “You are a courageous little one.”

  Rahab said, “Why does the king not speak? Is he your stooge?”

  Ahiman burst out with a roar that almost knocked Rahab down, “DO NOT MOCK ME BITCH WHORE!”

  Rahab swallowed in fear. But she knew her evaluation was correct. These fearsome monsters were just as ego-driven as every male of every species. They were giants, but they were men, with men’s weaknesses. So she also knew them better than they knew themselves.

  Talmai asked, “Can I eat one of her sisters in front of her?”

  “Not yet,” said Sheshai.

  Sheshai was calm with Rahab, like a king cobra. “I can see you are cunning enough to know you are safe at the moment, harlot. But I assure you, as soon as you outlive your political usefulness, you will wish you could die. You and all your family.”

  Rahab shivered. She knew Sheshai was calculated and he meant what he said. The hothead was unruly and could cause incalculable damage with his outbursts. And she could also see that he was aroused by Rahab’s appearance. She had to be careful with him. The big one was frighteningly huge, and enigmatic. God only knew what he was capable of.

  Ahiman said to Rahab, “You will tell us what you know of your leader Joshua ben Nun.”

  Sheshai changed the subject, which clearly angered Ahiman, “This mate of yours, Caleb ben Jephunneh, rumor has it he was the one who killed Og of Bashan. Is that true?”

  Rahab said, “Yes.”

  “Og was an impressive Rephaim. How did he do it? Does he have a special talisman or talent?”

  There was no way she was going to tell him about Caleb’s whip-sword or Karabu skills.

  One talent she had developed in her past that became useful now was her ability to lie convincingly. It had saved her life, and now she needed it to protect her husband.

  “He does not tell me about the details of war, for this very reason, should I be captured by his enemies.”

  Sheshai stared at her, trying to read her. Was she lying? His instincts told him no.

  He said to his brothers, “I
believe this Caleb is more critical to Yahweh’s plan than Joshua. His is the seed for this “chosen womb” after all. He has been given the identity of a guardian.”

  Talmai interjected, “He has not fulfilled his calling too well if it is to guard this wench.”

  Rahab said proudly, “He will be here soon enough and you can argue with him over that.”

  Chapter 51

  Caleb and Othniel arrived at Gilgal galloping at top speed. The horses of his team were near exhaustion. They had ridden them hard.

  They arrived at the tents of Judah. Caleb’s tents were among those that had been burnt down by fire.

  He got off his horse, and stumbled over to the empty charred remains that had been his dwelling.

  He fell to his knees and prayed to the Lord God through burning eyes. The pain was too great to bear.

  His men stood back respectfully, allowing him to mourn.

  Othniel went desperately in search of Achsah amidst the remains.

  Caleb looked over and saw a pile of some items that had been rescued from the fire. They were charred and blackened by soot. There was a brass pot, some clay pottery, and even some garments. One of them, Caleb noticed was a tunic of Rahab’s. He grabbed the light under cloak and pressed it to his nose and mouth. He breathed in the scent and his eyes filled with tears.

  He reached down and pulled up Rahab’s dagger she had carried with her through her life. The blade that had saved her more than once was not able to save her this time.

  His sadness turned to anger as he placed the dagger into this belt for safekeeping.

  Othniel approached him, looking like a dead man, holding Achsah’s bow broken in half. He was trembling.

  They both shared a pain that could not find words. All of Othniel’s regrets flooded his soul and nearly broke him. He should have revealed his love. He should have overcome his fears. He should have married Achsah.

  One of the few surviving Israelite males approached Caleb. He was wounded. He had a bandaged arm and leg and limped up to Caleb.

  “Sir.”

  Caleb said, “Tell me what happened.”

  “We were ambushed at night. There were eight of them. Giant Anakim. They split into two squads coordinated to strike at the same moment. One hit the northern camps of Benjamin and Ephraim and the other one—here.”