There was graffiti on the walls.
The streets were quiet these days. People who didn’t have business to attend to were preferring to stay home. The market was still running, but there was much less foot traffic. There were policemen standing around the Green Grocers. The windows were smashed, except for the one that was painted up with graffiti.
The racial slurs and infamous symbols were painted all over the place. The shop within was dark and quiet.
Oskar moved on from it quickly, over to the Bakery. Moritz was part of the congregation. They always had a nice chat when he was running errands.
Moritz smiled with open relief when he saw Oskar come in. “Finally! Someone willing to talk!”
The cheerful voice instantly erased the feeling of dread, and Oskar smiled broadly. “Good to see you too.” He gestured. “It’s quiet out there.”
“In here, too.” Moritz agreed. “Some people have taken to calling me with requests for bread and rolls. They want me to deliver, rather than come any closer to the Grocer.”
“Yeah, I saw that.” Oskar nodded. “A few years ago, there was a motorcar accident near Flora’s school. There were people coming out of their houses, walking for blocks to see the wreck. We’d never seen a motorcar smash before. You hear about such things in the paper, but they’d never happened so close.” He gestured outside. “Nobody coming to look?”
“People know what they’ll see, and they don’t want to know.” Moritz told him. “They’re looking the other way this time.” He lowered his voice. “You saw the graffiti?”
“I did. I guess I’ll have to find oranges somewhere else for a while.” Oksar confirmed. “Someone actually went and bought paint so they could cuss out Mister Clemens after they had smashed his store, and all his stock.”
“Mister Clemens is in the hospital. If he’s guilty of anything other than bein’ Jewish, the police don’t know what it is.” Moritz shivered. “The police have already been in here and asked me about it. I told them they would have gotten paint at Eugen’s Hardware store. The only store, incidentally, that was flying the German flag before last week.”
“Did you mention that part?”
“No.” Moritz said seriously. “That talk last month about staying neutral? I decided I wouldn’t even mention the flag. If the police are worth their pay, they already know it anyway.”
“The Policeman that patrols this street? He’s Eugen’s brother.” Oskar said seriously. “He knows.”
Moritz winced. “Then I’m very glad I didn’t share any personal viewpoints.”
“Neutrality may be a losing battle, my friend. I fear there will be no ‘middle ground’ in time. Probably less time than we think.”
Cold silence.
“We’ll get by.” Moritz said finally, and took down several rolls from his shelves. “Would you drop these off to sister Gisela for me?”
“I will.” He promised. “See you at the meeting tonight?”
“I’ll be there.”
~~/*\~~
Gisela was the oldest one in the Congregation, and barely mobile anymore. When he arrived, she was listening to the wireless in her front room. She waved him in as he came to her front door, still focused on the news.
Oskar entered, carrying a basket of bread rolls for her, as well as some fresh butter. He remained silent respectfully, as Gisela was listening to the latest news.
“...met with Hitler, in an attempt to avoid the German takeover of Austria. The Fuhrer gave a list of demands, including the appointment of sympathetic people to positions of authority in the government. While opposers point out that this would effectively give Germany control over the country’s police force, and military; others say it is worth it, to maintain Austria’s national sovereignty. The deal was agreed to, but has done little to calm the situation, as soon after; Hitler himself made a speech at the Reichstag where he is quoted as repeatedly saying, apparently to both Austrian and Czechoslovakian audiences internationally: ‘The German Reich is no longer willing to tolerate the suppression of ten million Germans across its borders’.”
“There was a time when they wouldn’t repeat any of his speech on our stations.” Gisela groused, turning the broadcast off. “Too many of our people are taking that man seriously.”
“Our people?” Oskar repeated.
Gisela gave him a canny look. “I know, we’re meant to be apart from such things. But I was a Bible Student during the last war. So was my husband, bless his soul. We lived in England then. Every day, constant jeers and insults because my husband hadn’t enlisted. Every week, people were arriving home, blinded by gas, or missing a limb. But still they blamed my husband, as if his refusal to volunteer was the reason we hadn’t won the war yet.” She pointed a bony finger at the radio. “I know the… the madness that takes people when this kind of talk starts up. When the Great War started, people were stampeding each other to enlist first.”
“Flora doesn’t like to think about it.” Oskar murmured. “She’s seeing it at school. Some of her teachers have been extolling the virtues of what’s happening in Germany; starting youth groups in her school… Apparently it's been causing some fights.”
Gisela gestured at the wall. “When my neighbors have their kids and grandkids over, they have arguments that rattle the walls.” She reached over for her Bible. “I know we take no sides in politics. But it’s only a matter of time before politics takes an interest in us.”
“Very possible.” Oskar agreed. “In fact, the other night I was wondering if that was why they decided to change the name of our religion. Having the name ‘Jehovah’s Witnesses’ doesn’t just give us a letterhead. It gives us an identity. ‘Our people’ are in every nation.”
“Including Germany.” Gisela sighed, rocking in her chair a bit. “I don’t envy them, what it must be like over there right now.”
“I had this conversation with Matheo.” Oskar commented. “He made the point that followers of Jehovah have always had an enemy somewhere, and it’s never worked out well for them, going all the way back to the Nephilim.”
Gisela scoffed. “This is true.” She gestured at the Radio. “You think they’ll mention it at the Meeting?”
“I hope so.” Oskar commented. “I invited my boss to come by tonight, and it’s a topic that comes up often at work these days.” He blushed a little. “I find it’s easier to explain my beliefs when someone else does it for me. From a stage. To a room full of people at once.”
Gisela burst out laughing.
~~/*\~~
There were empty chairs at the meeting. Theirs wasn’t a large congregation, but it wasn’t a large meeting place, either. Oskar knew all of them by name, including the ones who were missing.
The mood of a meeting was usually different from anywhere else in the world. It was their oasis, like the spirit of the world couldn’t reach them when their program was starting. Matheo had told him it was a ‘refreshment’ that came from the Holy Spirit.
But tonight, it was still creeping in. Everyone was still participating, but the answers were tinged with a kind of personal desperation now. Comments about ‘trusting in Jehovah’ were heavier, filled with meaning.
On stage, Matheo seemed to be aware of the spell. It came through in his talk. Every line seemed to have two meanings. “Jesus was approached by his enemies. People who wanted to get him in trouble with the crowds that listened to his teachings. They asked him if it was right to pay taxes to Caesar. Remember, Rome had Israel occupied, and no small number of people were hoping the Messiah would overthrow Rome and free the nation when he came. It was such a small thing: Was paying taxes wrong? After all, it was a sign of obedience to a government that most people hated.” Matheo said. “How did Jesus respond? He said ‘Render therefore unto Caesar the things which are Caesar’s; and unto God the things that are God’s’.
Oskar knew the verse well, but had to admit it was getting harder to tell the difference.
“Giving ‘Caesar’ of this century his due might be hard for us today. But would it have been any harder for Jews under occupation from Rome? For that matter, would it have been any easier for Daniel? Centuries before Jesus, Daniel was taken to Babylon, and told to take on Babylonian teachings, and customs. He was in the court of the Babylonian King. Turn with me to Daniel 1:8.”
Oskar was watching Franz out of the corner of his eye as he turned his bible to the right page, and held it between them, sharing the scripture.
“But Daniel purposed in his heart that he would not defile himself with the portion of the king’s meat, nor with the wine which he drank: therefore he requested of the prince of the eunuchs that he might not defile himself.”
On the stage, Matheo set down his bible. “Again, such a small thing, to accept the food being offered. Nebuchadnezzar would have been putting on a display, showing off his wealth to the conquered servants; demonstrating the delicacies that Daniel could enjoy if he would submit, become a true Babylonian official, in heart and deed. But Daniel said no. Why would Daniel refuse to eat such foods, when Jesus would allow the paying of taxes? Aren’t they both the same thing? Signs of submission? Acts of obedience?” Matheo paused, letting that thought linger for a moment. “The difference, is in what Jesus said, to: ‘Render unto God the things that are God’s’”
Franz was looking around the Hall, getting uncomfortable. He saw that others in the audience were nodding.
“Daniel was under the Mosaic Law, which stated that certain animals were not to be used as food for followers of Jehovah. And though Israel, and the Temple were far away, Daniel knew that God was still there, close to him. He did his duty to Nebuchadnezzar, but Daniel never gave the King anything that he had sworn to God.” Matheo continued. “Compromise only ever comes one inch at a time. Satan knows this. This is why his most dangerous servants only ask for the simplest of gestures, the smallest of compromises.”
Franz twitched again, and Oskar was worried that his guest (also his boss) would walk out on the talk.
“Daniel knew the question of food was deeper than what to eat. Jesus knew he was being asked about more than a coin. The real point in both cases wasn’t obedience, it was identity. Jesus was being challenged to identify himself as a rebel against Rome. Daniel was being asked to identify himself as a willing citizen of Babylon.” Matheo summed up. “What will our identity be? Today, the question of our identity as a people is growing more and more relevant, while all sides in the political affairs of the world become more and more passionate, even hostile. That’s why, just a short time ago, our own organization took on a new, global, and unified name: We are Jehovah’s Witnesses. Above all other things, above nationality, race, or favorite sports team: That is our name. That's who we're with. It's not just an identity, it's a mission statement. We're not soldiers, or judges, or prosecutors. We're Witnesses.”
There was a murmur of agreement, even pride. Oskar glanced around and saw a few eyes shining with tears.
“That identity is our protection in the face of opposition, because of all the nations, all the religions, all the organizations in the world; we are the only ones who use Jehovah’s Name. We identify ourselves as His people. We identify ourselves as being under His authority. And as history has proven, He will defend His name. And that is all that we have to concern ourselves with.”
Franz wasn’t listening anymore, Oskar was sure of it. He’d made up his mind.
“After all, the ultimate goal of Jehovah’s Kingdom is not to have all nations living in peace, but to have all nations abolished. No borders, no flags, no armies. Turn with me to Isaiah 2:4. ‘And they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruninghooks: nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more’.”
(Author’s Note: An important point to note is that this part of the story is set in Germany/Austria in the days leading to, and during the Second World War. Jehovah’s Witnesses use the ‘New World Translation’ of the Bible. It’s a translation meant to be accurate to the meaning, but also easier for modern readers to understand. But the NWT wasn’t available in the German Language until the 1972 Service Year.
Before that, the most common Bible available in that part of the world was the Luther Bible. Martin Luther was one of the first translators to translate the Bible into ‘common’ languages, but as it was completed in the 1600’s, there didn’t seem to be an English version I could quote. This story may be set in Austria, but it’s still written in English.
As a result, quotes from scriptures in this setting will be from the King James Bible. They’re both Protestant translations, and the most common Bible in the English-speaking world of the time.)
~~/*\~~
Franz managed to wait until the meeting was over before he walked out. He didn’t make a scene. He didn’t insult anyone. He just stalked out of the hall as soon as he could.
Oskar caught up to him in the driveway. “Was it really that objectionable?”
“It just… how can you stay neutral?” Franz said, disbelieving. “That sermon in there? I know what you’re talking about. I see the news. Sooner or later, there’s going to be a war. Are you protecting yourself, or just chickening out? Taking the easy way?”
“What about that talk made you think it was easy?” Oskar countered. “Neutrality doesn’t mean surrender. I remember a few years ago, there was an international protest from Witnesses around the world, protesting the way our brothers were treated in Germany.”
“That doesn’t make you want to fight?”
“Want to? That’s nobody’s business but mine.” Oskar said carefully. “But war? Political, financial… By definition, war isn’t on anyone’s side except the Grim Reaper’s. You, of all people, know this.”
Franz hesitated. “My father and grandfather did the right thing when they volunteered to protect their country. Your people are saying they did wrong by getting involved at all.”
“You missed the whole point of that talk.” Oskar countered. “It’s not about judging other people. It’s about picking our side. We chose one that doesn’t have a position on earthly politics. We chose that one that isn’t ‘earthly’ at all.”
“Like hell.” Franz scoffed. “You know how ‘your people’ are being treated in Germany. If God’s not on your side in the face of such oppression, then what’s the point?” He waved it off before Oskar could respond. “Anyway, it’s something we’ll have to agree to disagree on. I respect people with strong convictions, even when they don’t match my own.”
The conversation was over, and Oskar wasn’t sure how to get it back on track. “I can appreciate your position, sir. For you, it’s not just patriotism, it’s family tradition, too.”
Franz smiled agreeably, and made his goodbyes.
~~/*\~~
Oskar trudged back into the hall. With the meeting ended, they all stayed to chat with each other for a while. There was only one topic on anyone’s mind, even at the meeting. But Matheo had been waiting for him to come back in. “That seemed like a pretty intense conversation. I’m sorry I didn’t come over, but I thought interrupting would make it worse.”
“There was nothing you could have done.” Oskar shook his head. “His mind was made up by what was taught, not by the choice of words.” He let out a breath between his teeth. “I’ve never been particularly good at preaching, brother. I think I might have made a mistake inviting my boss.”
“Less than you think.” Matheo offered. “The truth is a protection in all parts of our lives.” He gestured out the door. “Your employer knows what you believe now. It saves you from having awkward moments later on.”
“In all honesty, that was part of the reason I invited him. I just don’t know if it made things better or worse.” Oskar shrugged. “Flora told me about another Witness she’s penpals with, in another town. They were given detention for preaching to their classmates. The other parents are telling their kids to avoid ours now. During the last war, the ‘Bible Students’ were accused of being everything from cowards, to traitors, to Communists. Publicly acknowledging our beliefs might protect us in one way, but it draws abuse in others.”
~~/*\~~
Flora was talking about what she’d heard from others at the Hall, for the entire walk home. “It seems like half the congregation is looking up relatives in other countries.” She paused. “We don’t have any, do we?”
“No.” Oskar admitted, looking at his daughter. She was a sharp girl, but still too young to be thinking about such worrying things. Oskar had learned that she was more aware of what was going on in the world than most people her age. “What about you, kid? You want to get out of town?”
“There’s no reason yet.” Flora said quietly. “Some of the teachers at my school are talking about Germany taking us over like it’s a sure thing. In fact, they’re annoyed it hasn’t happened already. But until it does…” She looked up at him. “You think it’s safer here?”
“We’ve lived our whole lives in this town.” Oskar said seriously. “The people we know are all here. We’ve got nowhere to land outside this country.”
“There are brothers in other countries too.” Flora offered. “We’d do it for them.”
“Yes, we would.” He confirmed. “But we know this place, and we don’t really know anywhere else. Until there’s a reason to leave, it’s safer if we stick with what we know.” He put a smile on his face, reassuring his daughter. “Besides, this isn’t a major city, or a big factory town. If someone invades our country, I doubt they’d be able to find us on a map. How bad can it get?”
~~/*\~~
“...announcing his resignation, effective immediately. President Miklas was immediately succeeded by newly appointed President Arthur Seyss-Inquart, shorty after midnight. His first order was to request German aid, to help stabilize the country from its current upheaval.”
“Early this morning, the 8th Army of the German Wehrmacht crossed the border into Austria. The troops were greeted by a crowd of euphoric Austrians, brandishing Nazi flags, and throwing flowers. The Fuhrer himself is expected to enter the country this afternoon, near his birthplace, at Braunau.”
~~/*\~~ Joshua ~~/*\~~
“You think they hire guards based on height?” Joshua quipped.
“Entirely possible.” Caleb nodded. “There sure seem to be a lot of them.”
“Mm. Well, there’s plenty here to guard.” Joshua commented, gesturing at some of the marketplace stalls. “Egypt couldn’t match this kind of produce.”
“They could in the larger markets, or so I’ve been told.” Caleb said as they wandered over to a fruit seller. “Back in the major cities, they had shipments coming down the Nile every day. Everything flowed to Egypt then.”
“But this place doesn’t have the Nile. Where does it all come from?” Joshua reasoned.
Caleb shrugged. “Why don’t we ask?”
Joshua grinned. “The direct approach, you say? What an idea. They’ll never see it coming.”
~~/*\~~
The Assembly of Israel had marched across the Wastelands towards their Promised Land. At the edge of Canaan, they selected a man from each of the Twelve Tribes, to enter into the land and spy it out; in preparation for taking the land over. The twelve had split up into pairs and made their way to different areas, planning to meet again after forty days.
The two of them walked over to one of the fruit stalls and spoke with the storekeeper. “Good day, sir. My name is Caleb, and we are travellers.”
“Welcome to Hebron.” The man inclined his head. “If you’ve made a long trip, you’re surely in need of good food, and I have some of the finest fruits in the marketplace.”
“Indeed, we were just speaking of that.” Joshua nodded. “It’s an impressive variety. Back where we come from, most farmland is limited in what they grow, but a variety is shipped in.”
The stallkeeper’s head tilted. “You’re Egyptian. I can tell by your accent.”
Caleb twitched. “I didn’t realize I had an… Egyptian accent.”
“We’ve had traders come this way in the last few months. From what we hear, Egypt is in a bad way right now.” He gestured at his table. “If you’re looking for land of your own, or some new trading partners; you’ve come to the right place. Everything you see on this table… in fact, almost everything in the marketplace today is locally grown and produced.”
“Really?” Caleb looked over the whole Marketplace. “The clothes and fabrics too?”
“Good grazing land around here, if that’s your profession.” The stallkeeper didn’t seem to notice that he was telling total strangers so much. Caleb wondered if he was naturally open about these things, or if the information he was getting simply wasn’t sensitive enough to be of concern.
Joshua was about to speak, asking another question; when someone shouted, further up the path. Caleb didn’t hear what they said, but he saw people moving aside quickly. There was no panic, or screaming. Just an orderly reaction. Everyone knew to move aside. The two Hebrews did the same immediately, following their example.
And once everyone was moved aside, they could see why. A team of armed soldiers were running through the Market, swords sheathed, but spears held ready. One soldier was in the lead, calling out the march, as the others behind him jogged in formation. The rattle of their weapons and armor filled the square for a moment.
Caleb felt his heart give a thump, but the soldiers weren’t there for them. The soldiers didn’t even glance left or right as they jogged, more on the march than making an attack.
The Stallkeeper didn’t even blink as they ran past. The rest of the Market had already forgotten them, going back about their trading. “The soldiers train every day now. Getting to know the streets, the farming communities. Word is, they’re preparing for something.”
“Anyone know what?” Joshua asked automatically.
“Just rumors.” The Stallkeeper didn’t elaborate.
Caleb gave his partner a look, and drew some money from his belt. They’d been pushing too far for one conversation. “Well, in any event, I would love to try some of the pomegranates. They smell delicious.”
The stallkeeper nodded. “Certainly. Also, my sister would want me to remind you that all are welcome at the Temple.”
“The Temple?” Joshua repeated, ears pricking up. “You are worshippers of Baal here, are you not?”
“We are.” The stallkeeper waved at the table full of produce as though that made it all clear. “With such a rich land, how could we not offer our allegiance to the gods of good harvest?”
~~/*\~~
Nabhi and Ammiel were at the Temples already. There were many of them in the Land. Outside, there were many stalls where Idols were sold. Icons of Baal, mainly. But some, quite disturbingly, were selling icons of Egyptian Gods.
“I didn’t think Egypt’s gods extended much beyond their lands.” Ammiel observed.
“Refugees from Egypt.” Nabhi offered. “I heard that the Priests were trying to spread to other countries, to get income flowing their way. Once the plagues started, I can imagine some people fled. They’d have gotten here with their families a lot faster than we would have with the whole Assembly.”
“Mm. Which means the… well, the ‘fear’ of Jehovah might have spread this way.” Ammiel commented, looking back the way they had come. “Which explains all the soldiers we saw on our way in. They’re getting ready to fight.”
“Well. You worry about that, I’m worried about the other thing.” Nabhi gestured with his chin towards the opposite stalls. It felt like there was produce for sale everywhere. There was just so… much of it. “How can we ever hope to produce this much?”
“Our people were involved in every part of the work back in Egypt. I can’t imagine the Nile basin was more productive than this land, or we’d have been told to stay there.”
“We were never farmers. We were laborers. What do we know about cultivating a farm? There was no planning that involved our people. The Nile dumped topsoil and water once a year. It’s not going to be that simple for us.”
Ammiel frowned. He’d never thought of such things before. “I… don’t know.”
The stallkeeper, selling icons and idols of Baalism, had overheard part of their conversation. “You gentlemen are farmers?”
Nabhi and Ammiel traded a glance. “Let’s say, we were looking to become farmers. Maybe find a piece of land of our own to work. We’re told that Canaan has some of the finest produce in the world.”
“It’s true.” He said, and gestured at the Temple nearby. “Baal is a god of fertility and good harvest. He’s blessed these lands richly. The Priest at this temple is actually a good friend of mine. He is involved in the cultivation of several farmlands. The farmers in this area are all regular worshippers. If you wanted to talk to them, get some advice, you’d be welcome.”
~~/*\~~
At first, they were hesitant to enter the Temple, but the stallkeeper had been watching. They’d told him they were interested in becoming farmers. There was no way to avoid talking to other farmers… who were all at the Temple.
It was easy to go in, open to everyone. When they entered the main hall, Nabhi observed that the places to recline were wide and plush, practically like beds. A moment later he realised why.
Most of the room had temple staff, dressed in skimpy sheer clothing, taking the attendees in blatant, public ruts, in various combinations in full view of everyone, while some of the acolytes chanted prayers, or waved incense smoke about. Those not directly occupied were unconcerned, watching or joining in with the orgy.
Others were at the Shrine, shouting their ritual prayers over the noise. One or two of the more determined acolytes were bleeding themselves, smearing blood in offerings to the Idols, which were decked in flowers, gold, offerings of produce and wealth. The idols themselves were exaggerated towards fertility and sex, to an almost ludicrous degree.
The Temple Priests, with their icons hanging around their necks, were leading the ceremonies, supervising the prayers, guiding the temple prostitutes to join in here and there. The expression on their faces suggested that this was all a normal day.
“We shouldn’t be here. We shouldn’t be looking at this.” Nabhi muttured.
Ammiel couldn’t tear his eyes away from the women. “Mm. You think anyone will notice if we walked out?”
But neither of them moved for a long moment. The scene was feral, depraved, and dangerous. It made Nabhi’s insides shudder with revulsion…
…And a little intrigue.
~~/*\~~
Caleb and Joshua had attended a less ‘exciting’ ritual at another shrine, and had heard the Priest declaring the news to everyone listening. The acolytes and observants were being called on to support their military in every way, while making every effort to strengthen their faith in Baal for the coming confrontation. The Priestesses, dressed to entice, took their cue from the Priest as the ‘talk’ ended, and the ‘celebrations’ began, luring the attendees into smaller groups for their rituals.
Caleb and Joshua slipped out immediately, and made their way back towards the others.
“He was talking about us, you know.” Joshua said as they left the crowds behind. “What that Shopkeeper said about people who fled Egypt? He was talking about the Plagues. A ‘war of the gods’? The priest was talking about the same.”
“Moses made no secret of where he was planning to take us once we were free. My guess is word went ahead of us. I wouldn’t put it past the Egyptians to warn the locals that we were coming.”
“Should we be concerned that they’re getting ready for us?” Joshua commented lightly, without any real concern, as they moved on from the market.
“Egypt had us in chains for generations, and we didn’t have so much as a sword on our side. The last people to oppose Jehovah couldn’t have been more ready.” Caleb smirked. “You heard it, though. Right? Before the… well, the orgy began?”
“The Priest was afraid.” Joshua nodded. “He knows that the cities are no match for Egypt, and if Jehovah conquered them so easily, then what hope does Canaan have…” He shook his head. “They’ll do what seems logical to them, of course; but if our people were bound by earthly logic, we’d have starved to death in the wilderness long before we got this far.”
Caleb agreed, licking his lips again. “That produce was the best thing I’ve tasted since leaving Egypt. We’ll have to go back there and buy some more, before we head back to the others.”
“If the land’s as plentiful as they boast, we can probably get some cuttings from the wild-grown fruits.”
“How much should we take?”
“Well, let’s not be too greedy… After all, how much can you carry?”
They both chuckled a bit.
~~/*\~~
Igal and Gaddi walked together. They had been moving through the territory for weeks, all of them working in pairs. Two people walking the roads were travellers. One at a time was noticeable.
“They know we’re coming.” Igal said quietly as they walked. “The Market is full of talk about us, out in the Wilderness.”
“Egypt may have sent word ahead.” Gaddi nodded. “To have an army waiting for us when we got here. We should scout their military assets too.”
“Carefully. The general public might be worried about the ‘invading enemy’, but the soldiers are gearing up for a war. They’ll be watching for spies.”
~~/*\~~
They met a Merchant with a fine purple sash, and he was only too willing to direct them towards the training camps. On the way, they were caught off guard by the sound of the Camp. The marching was audible long before they could see anything. The clank of metal bruising metal was rhythmic, powerful, relentless.
Igal and Gaddi traded a look, and went off the road, seeking cover in the long grass off to the side. As a hiding place, it wasn’t ideal. This land had plenty of hills and mountains, but the army they sought to spy on was using open spaces for their training. Certainly if a battle between their peoples came, it would be on open ground.
The marching became a lot louder as the soldiers passed by them. With their faces hidden behind helmets, and the sunlight shining off their armors, they seemed inhumanly powerful. They marched in sync, step for step, trained to move as one. They seemed inhumanly precise. Their weapons were deadly and every soldier had spears and swords.
“They’re… humongous.” Igal breathed.
The road was fairly narrow. Enough that they had to march in ranks of three at a time. A formation that meant the marches took forever to pass their hiding place. They just went on, and on. From their vantage, close to the ground, Gaddi couldn’t tell where the column of troops ended. “And this is just one part of their army, on their way to meet the rest of them for training.”
“Training. For a counterattack.” Igal whispered. “Against us.”
The two of them turned that over in their minds, feeling chilled. “We have to report this. If we find out nothing else about this country, our people have to be warned about this.”
“And then what?” Igal hissed. “Look at them! What will a warning do?”
The two of them crept back slowly, edging back from the road. Neither of them spoke as they went slowly, being patient, making sure they weren’t noticed. They’d both been slaves for most of their life. They knew how to go unnoticed by men with whips and swords.
Thinking about the ‘old days’ didn’t put either of them in the best frame of mind. Dark memories were haunting them as they crept back to the road, out of sight.
Once they were a safe distance away, they returned to the road and started walking quickly into the hills, heading to the rendezvous spot. “What do we tell the others?”
“We tell them everything we saw.” Gaddi said firmly. “Remember, we won’t be fighting an army that’s marching out into the wilderness to confront us. We’re the ones invading them this time. These people will fight to the last man for their homes.”
Igal winced. They had authorization for their action from Jehovah God, who had authority over the lives and deaths of all His creations, being their sole Creator, and the only one who could grant life and death in equal measure… But it was still going to be a war. Israel would take their Promised Land from people who lived there already.
And then a horn blew. Both of them jumped out of their skins, turning to look. Neither of them had noticed a single rider, on horseback, watching from a distant ridge.
“A scout! Keeping watch while the army trains.” Gaddi hissed. “Run!”
~~/*\~~
Days later, the Spies met at the agreed rendezvous spot, where they would gather to head back to the rest of their people.
Nabhi reached their meeting spot, and froze. There was a torn cloth on the ground, covered in dried blood. He looked around, heart suddenly pounding. There was no sign of anyone-
From the bushes, Gaddi stood up, hands raised. “It’s just us! We ran into a scout on horseback.”
Igal emerged from his own hiding place, arm wrapped tightly with another cloth. “We barely escaped with our lives.”
Nabhi came over immediately. “How bad were you wounded?”
“No, this isn’t from the enemy.” Igal grunted. “I sliced up my arm on those rocks. Slipped when I was… well, looking for a hiding place. We’ve spent five days under rocks and thorns, jumping at every noise.”
They heard Joshua and Caleb laughing to each other as they came closer. After the undercurrent of fear and worry that had been following them for two days, it seemed almost indecent that two of them were so cheerful.
Gaddi went out to meet them. “Hush, you idiots!” He hissed. “We’re in enemy territory. Don’t make so much noi- what are you carrying?”
The two of them were carrying a pole between them, on which hung huge bunches of grapes, figs, and pomegranates. One of them was leading a donkey, also weighed down with goods.
“Gaddi!” Caleb called grandly. “You gotta try these grapes!”
~/*\~~/*\~~/*\~
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