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sprang up like eager wolf cubs, happy to be on the hunt.
I went with them as far as the demolished section of the wall, to see for myself
what our work had accomplished. The wall was more than nine meters thick, where
it still stood. The pile of tumbled bricks and rubble on which I picked my way
felt hot, even through the soles of my boots. The fire was not out, it still
smoldered deep below. Thin gray smoke issued from the lower cross-timbers in the
sections of the wall on the other side of our breach. The fire would burn away
at them for hours more, perhaps for days, I realized. Other parts of the wall
would fall.
Inside the city, it was Troy all over again. The Israelites were like the
Achaians in one way: they slaughtered and raped and pillaged and burned just as
the barbarians of Argos and Ithaca and the other Achaian kingdoms did, on the
plain of Ilios. The frenzy of bloodlust was in them, and no matter which god
they worshiped or what name they gave him, they behaved like beasts rather than
men.
Perhaps Helen is right, I thought. Perhaps in Egypt we will find civilized human
beings, order and peace.
I clambered back over the hot rubble and made my way to my tent. To my surprise,
Helen was holding court there, sitting outside the tent surrounded by more than
two dozen of the Israelite women. I got close enough to hear a few of her words:
"They will be filthy and bloody and filled with lust when they return. You
should have scented water prepared to bathe them and soothe their raging blood."
"Scented water?" asked one of the women.
"In a tub?" another wondered.
Helen replied, "Yes, and let your servants bathe your husband..."
"Servants?" They all laughed.
Helen seemed nonplussed.
"But tell us," said one of the older women, "how do you use kohl to make your
eyes seem larger?"
"And what charms do you use to keep a man faithful to you?"
I walked away, out of earshot, shaking my head in wonderment. While the men were
following their savage instincts, murdering, burning, looting, the women were
following their instincts, too, learning how to subdue and tame their men.
For some time I walked aimlessly among the tents. The only men in the camp were
children or grandfathers. The women clustered in little groups, like those with
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Helen, whispering among themselves and occasionally glancing at the burning
city.
"Orion," a strong voice hailed me.
I turned and saw Joshua standing in the shade cast by the striped awning
extended over the front of his big tent. A humid breeze bellied the awning
slightly and made the woven wool fabric strain against its creaking ropes. I
could smell moisture in the breeze, and the sweet fragrance of date palms. The
fire from the city was sucking up air from the river valley.
Several of the older priests reclined around Joshua on benches or the ground.
They looked tired, spent, slightly ashamed.
"You have Jericho," I said to Joshua.
"Thanks to the Lord our God," he said, then added, "and to you."
I bowed my head slightly.
"You have performed a great service for the God of Israel and His people," said
Joshua. "You will be rewarded amply."
"I appreciate the gratitude of your people." Somehow I could not bring myself to
say that I was happy to have helped them. "In a day or so my men and I will
continue on our way... southward."
He knew I meant Egypt. "You are certain that you want to go in that direction?"
"Quite certain."
"It is what she desires, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"Orion, why spend your life as a woman's slave? Stay with me! Be my strong right
arm. There are other cities to consider. The Philistines on the coast are
powerful enemies."
I looked into his deep, glittering eyes and saw the same burning light that
glowed in the eyes of the Golden One. Madness? Or greatness? Both, I thought.
Perhaps the one cannot exist without the other.
"I have no quarrel with the Philistines or anyone else," I said. "And I have my
own reasons for going to Egypt."
"You are tied to a woman's skirts," he taunted.
I replied. "I seek a god in Egypt."
"A false god," Joshua snapped. "There is only one true God..."
"I know what you believe," I said, before he could go further, "and perhaps you
are right. Perhaps the god I seek in Egypt is the same one that you worship."
"Then why seek him in a land of slavery and tyranny?"
"Egypt is a civilized land," I countered.
Joshua spat at my feet. One of the old white-bearded priests who had been
listening to us climbed arthritically to his feet and, leaning on a staff,
pointed a bony finger at me.
"Egypt civilized? A land where the king orders the murder of every Israelite
baby girl, simply because his ministers have told him that our numbers are
growing too fast? That is civilization?" His weak old voice trembled with anger.
"A land where our whole nation was enslaved to build monuments to the tyrant who
slaughtered our infants?"
I blinked at him, not knowing how to answer.
"We fled from Egypt," said Joshua, "with nothing but the clothes on our backs
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and what little goods we could carry. Their king sent his army to find us and
bring us back. Only the miracle of our Lord God saved us and allowed us to
escape. We spent years wandering in the wilderness of Sinai, willing to starve
and go thirsty in the desert rather than return to slavery. No, Orion, do not
think that Egypt is civilized."
"But I must go there," I insisted.
"To find the God who in truth resides among us? Stay with us, and God will bless
you."
"The god I seek is worshiped by many peoples, in many ways. To some he is the
god of the sun..."
"There is only one true God," the old priest intoned. "All other gods are
false."
"He told me to seek him in Egypt," I blurted, nearing exasperation.
The old priest staggered back from me. Joshua's face went white.
"God spoke to you?"
"This god did."
"In a dream?"
I raised my arm to point at the distant riverbank. "There, by the river, a few
nights ago."
"Blasphemy!" hissed the old priest, pulling at his long white beard.
Joshua shook his head, an almost smugly understanding expression on his face.
"It was not the God of Israel you saw, Orion. It was a man, or a false vision."
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