Delilah. Eleanor Jong De

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СКАЧАТЬ very young. He leaned to kiss her again, and instinctively, Delilah let her legs part for him. He moved his hips forward and she reached down to take his hardness in her hand. Their lips didn’t part as she guided him inside her. For a moment, there was a dull pain, growing sharper, but the next there was only softness, and their bodies came together and parted like the tide rolling up and down the beach. She pulled his body tightly against her, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and hooking her legs over his pale buttocks. His breath, on her neck, was a series of thin, quivering exhalations, and she abandoned herself to his rhythm. Would it be like this with Samson, she wondered, then felt guilty for letting her mind drift from the moment.

      All at once, Joshua’s breathing became laboured, and his hips shuddered. She waited for the spasms of his pleasure to finish, stroking his cheek. His damp hair was stuck to his forehead, and suddenly the night seemed too warm.

      For a while he lay inside her, and she felt her body sink from the height of their shared passion. The moon had moved over the house by the time they parted. Still dizzy from the new sensations Joshua had left in her, she said a simple goodnight. Joshua went back to the servant quarters first, checking to make sure the path was clear. Adjusting her clothes, Delilah walked lazily towards the darkened house, so engrossed in the novelty of what they had discovered together, that she failed to notice a small light hanging in the courtyard until she was close enough to see someone framed in the doorway. Ekron sat alone beneath the light, staring out. He hadn’t yet washed, and behind the streaked dirt, his eyes looked very white.

      Delilah drew her dress more tightly to her body and walked slowly into the shadowy house. It was some time before she fell asleep, troubled as she was by the sadness and confusion she’d seen on Ekron’s face.

      Chapter Seven

      Three years later

      The man’s hollow, watery eyes settled on Delilah for a moment, then fell again to the track. The load of rolled blankets piled precariously on his back looked ready to crush him. Behind him was his wife, her long, bedraggled gown tugged by a sandy squall. Over her shoulder, Delilah saw the face of a sleeping baby boy. He, at least, looked content.

      ‘That’s the seventh family we have passed since the bend in the road,’ she said when the cart had moved out of earshot.

      Her stepfather nodded slowly and glanced back over his shoulder. ‘And here comes another one.’

      Delilah rearranged the shawl that shaded her head from the midday sun, hoping that anyone who took the time to look up from the dusty road into the cart would see that her features were as Israelite as the driver’s. To be travelling in such comfort stirred a vague guilt. Did they wonder what she was doing sitting on a cushioned seat beside a Philistine? For there was no doubt about Achish’s provenance; his high forehead and cheekbones were distinctive of his race.

      She sighed. It wasn’t as simple as that, and she knew it.

      They had not long left the vineyard when Delilah first noticed the long trail of travellers, clusters of people all along the main coastal road from Ashkelon to Ashdod. At first she’d barely looked up from the scroll in her lap. Achish was thinking of expanding the vineyard onto land to the east, and she felt honoured that she’d been the first to see the plans. But after a while the warmth of the sun had made her sleepy and the voices drifting up from the road had drawn her attention. She could tell that these people were poor, not only from the state of their clothes but also from how little they carried with them. Their journeys weren’t casual – that much was obvious from the way they lugged cooking pots and bundles of fabric, probably bedding or makeshift tents. Even the smallest child dragged some jug or basket along behind its weary feet. Times were desperately hard, she knew, and work even as labourers or servants was scarce in Ashkelon.

      ‘Why are they travelling south? Why don’t they turn north towards the Israelite cities, head for home?’

      ‘For a lot of these families, this land is their home,’ said Achish. ‘Did your mother ever tell you how long your father’s family lived on the edge of Ashkelon?’

      She shook her head.

      ‘Five generations. Much longer than my people. It was my father’s father who started the vineyard when he first came from across the sea. Your father’s family had already been living off the land for many, many years before that. But it’s different for these people: they don’t have time to build a home and a livelihood. They need to eat.’

      Delilah smiled wryly. ‘That sounded rather political. I shouldn’t let old Phicol hear you talking like that else he’ll think you’re trying to subvert his plans for the Philistine state.’

      ‘You shouldn’t call him “old Phicol” Delilah.’

      ‘I’m sorry. He isn’t all that old, I know.’

      Achish gave her a small smile, to show his chastisement was only gentle.

      ‘But you do sound almost guilty; it’s not your fault what’s happening to the Israelites.’

      ‘There will always be battles for supremacy between cultures, one seeking to control another. I’ve been called a thief more times than I can remember.’

      ‘You’re the most honest man I know!’

      Achish laughed. ‘In my business dealings, perhaps. But my people are like those bees who take over the nests of other bees, stealing their honey and their homes for themselves. The Philistines have always moved into cities built by others and grown them for their own good; for many that is theft.’ He squinted a little and raised his hand to shield his eyes from the sun. ‘I’ve simply tried to do what I can to make sure I don’t deny those around me a right to a home and a decent living, no matter who they are.’

      Delilah reached across the cart and squeezed his arm. ‘But you can only do that if your own business is strong. I understand that.’

      ‘I’m glad of it. You have your father’s quick grasp of detail.’

      ‘And my stepfather’s eye for an opportunity. We can close this deal with Mizraim together.’

      ‘I wouldn’t dream of depriving you of that chance.’ Achish smiled warmly at her and reached beneath his feet for the jug of water. Delilah held out the little drinking bowl to be filled, then offered it to Achish first.

      ‘Nor would you deprive me of the chance to see his son again,’ she said, as innocently as possible.

      Achish dabbed at his mouth with the back of his hand, then laughed as he gave the bowl back to Delilah. ‘Jered is a nice young man, intelligent, energetic, and interested in wine.’

      ‘Which is no bad thing if you want him and his father to buy rather a lot of it.’

      ‘It would be useful to bring a son into the family who had a taste for such things—’

      ‘—and who could replace the son you have lost to Lord Phicol’s side?’

      Achish frowned. She’d spoken out of turn. It had taken weeks until she’d spoken to her stepfather after he’d tried to marry her to Samson. Even Beulah had been shocked. Since that time, several suitors had made their attentions clear, but each time Achish had rebuffed them at the merest hint of displeasure from Delilah. Joshua had been a victim of their unspoken conflict. After a scattering of midnight assignations, poor Joshua had been unceremoniously СКАЧАТЬ