Delilah. Eleanor Jong De

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      Delilah thought for the first time that Jered might have a rather stuffy streak in him, old-fashioned even, for everyone knew that in every city there were women who offered their bodies to men for money. Yet, his words about Samson’s ‘band’ gave her an angry satisfaction. The men who’d resorted to violence so quickly in Achish’s house were like animals, and their leader had done nothing to prevent it. Achish’s judgement had been proved misplaced. If Samson could now do no better than seek out the company of whores, obviously no sane woman had consented to marry him in the meantime. As she thought of this, she allowed Jered to slip his hand through hers and gently lead her up the street back towards his home.

      It annoyed Delilah that she should still be thinking of Samson in the cart on the way home, her anger now mixed up with frustration. Should I have said something to him? she wondered. Something to prick his arrogance, prowling the marketplace as though he owned it.

      She wanted to talk to Achish about it. But no. Reminding him of the slighting of Hemin and the fire at the vineyard would only bring him sorrow and, besides, he was clearly bursting to ask her about Jered, though his usual reserve was holding him back. Delilah had not let go of the bowl since Jered had given it to her. She’d wrapped it carefully in a piece of dark red muslin to protect it on the way home and it sat in her lap, the most precious cargo in the cart now that most of the wine had been drunk and the jars were nearly empty.

      The departure from Mizraim’s house had been rather hasty in the end, what with packing the cart and harnessing the donkeys for the return journey. The deal had clearly been sealed to Mizraim and Achish’s satisfaction going by the ruddy cheeks and wide smiles that had greeted Jered and Delilah on their return. The farewell from Jered had been perfunctory, but neither had expected anything different beneath the attentions of their respective relatives.

      Though it had not been dark when they left, the sun fell quickly and now, perhaps halfway home, the stars were beginning to pierce the washed-out indigo of the evening sky.

      ‘If Mizraim honours his word,’ said Achish, ‘we must implement the expansion this winter. We’ll need more men to dig and plant, for a month. I hope there are still Israelites willing to work in Ashkelon.’

      ‘Perhaps Lord Phicol can help.’

      ‘I’d prefer to keep my business and family separate,’ said Achish, cryptically.

      Delilah understood what he meant. There was something cold and calculating about the Philistine governor. She disliked being in his presence, his eyes often lingering on her longer than decorum warranted.

      Much like Samson’s.

      The cart was moving more quickly than it had on the way to Ashdod as the load was so much lighter, but donkeys are not given to haste and after a while Delilah was roused from reliving the complicated events of the afternoon by Achish moving restlessly in the seat beside her.

      ‘What’s wrong, Father?’

      ‘This road is much too quiet. There should be families walking still.’

      ‘It’s almost dark, though. Won’t everyone have stopped to eat and sleep?’

      ‘Then where are the campfires? There’s no sign of anyone. Listen.’

      Delilah pulled her shawl right off her head and closed her eyes to concentrate. Achish was right. The road was absolutely silent but for the soft scuffing of the donkeys’ feet against the sand and the creak of the cart’s wheels. A torch burned in a holster beside the driver, Saul.

      Delilah scanned the horizon, a silhouette of tufty dunes, but it was impossible to pick out anything in the dark.

      ‘Master, someone’s approaching,’ said Saul.

      ‘Then speed up.’ Achish turned to Delilah. ‘It’s probably nothing.’ But his hand shook as it patted hers.

      Suddenly out of the darkness rose up the thud of hooves and a ring of shouts around them and the cart shuddered and rocked. The donkeys brayed in terror. Pale and ghostly faces on horseback flashed in the dark but it was impossible to see anything clearly beyond the blaze of the torch. Delilah’s fingers searched for Achish’s arm, as the hollering rose in volume and she twisted back and forth in her seat, trying to follow the sounds.

      ‘Drive on!’ shouted Achish, but the donkeys abruptly turned and the frightened snorts became tangled with a guttural yelp as Saul slumped over to the left, knocking the torch onto the road. Sparks fizzed off into the night.

      The cart shook beneath them and Delilah tumbled backwards. She thought she’d fallen on Achish but the tang of salty sunburned skin filled her nostrils, and two hands closed around her waist. She screamed and jabbed at her attacker with her elbows, but then the cart shook again and Achish cried out.

      ‘Delilah!’

      His voice died in a dreadful groan and Delilah stopped writhing to search for him. She caught his shadowy outline in the base of the cart, pinned down by one of the men against the empty wine jars.

      ‘Father? Father!’

      He didn’t respond.

      ‘Achish!’ she yelled.

      Delilah thrust again with her elbows, but the man holding her grunted heavily against her neck and before she knew it he’d twisted her round completely and was ripping at the neck of her dress with his hands.

      ‘Get off! Get off me!’

      She struck out with her fists, but he was strong. He reeked of the dark and the dirt. She tore his hands from her neck and as she did so she felt the smooth gold against her fingers and in a moment she’d pulled off her necklaces, thrusting them out in front of the bandit, swinging them in glittering arcs in front of his eyes.

      At first, his rough, heavy hands seemed interested only in her jewels. He thrust them inside his tunic. But then he came at her again, and she felt his fingers seek out the base of her throat, his palm pressing down against her shoulder.

      ‘No!’ she screamed, slamming her knees together, and curling her feet up instinctively to brace herself against him. He pinned her with both hands and tried to use his body to push her legs apart, his eyes greedy and glinting. ‘Father!’ she called.

      And then suddenly he was gone with a yelp, as though the night had snatched him away. His hands trailed from her skin, and she was alone, the side of the cart jamming against her ribs.

      She looked down. Achish held a hand to one side of his head, and looked in confusion at the shards of broken pottery around him.

      ‘In the name of Ba’al!’

      Delilah threw her arms around him, and found she was shivering despite the sweat that soaked her skin. ‘Are you all right?’

      ‘I think so,’ he said, trying to stand. ‘What about Saul?’

      ‘I don’t know. Are they СКАЧАТЬ