then you should know what good company they are going to keep.’
‘Good company, you say?’
‘Food and wine should always make a careful marriage.’
Delilah was about to respond when she noticed Achish and Mizraim standing companionably together, and remembered her promise to behave with more propriety.
‘Is there something you would like me to do, Father?’
Achish gestured to the cart. ‘Can you supervise the moving of the wines into our host’s house, please? Then we can begin the tasting.’
Mizraim – whose ample build and features showed that he ran his business and his life in equally generous portions – had turned a simple tasting into an opportunity to impress his acquaintances, and a splendid array of dried and fresh fruits, olives, breads, oils and cured meats had been arranged on tables for the twenty or more guests to enjoy. This house had a more informal feel than the vineyard house, large open rooms with wooden shutters to divide the indoor space from the outdoor, and to divide off smaller rooms if required. Being bordered by streets on two sides, the house was flanked by a walled garden at one end, and a large courtyard at the other, across which hung a large awning of woven reeds to keep off the heat of the day.
With the wines carefully arranged in a row along one of the courtyard walls, Delilah took her place by Achish’s side as he presented the different vintages to the guests. She handed out the little stoneware drinking bowls, adding water as the guests wished, and supplying her own comments about the particular taste of each wine as she did so. Beneath the careful smile she mentally noted the names of the possible clients and their preferences. And all the while she was conscious of Jered watching her from the edge of the crowd, his own cheeks growing a little flushed. She flattered herself that it wasn’t just the wine.
Soon enough the tasting was over and she retreated to the food tables to allow Achish to begin with the business. She’d have liked to follow the conversations, but being a young woman among men made this impossible. Besides, with her work done, her appetite was keener than ever. She helped herself to some cucumber relish and bread smeared with a paste made from crushed olives. Jered was talking with one of the other merchants, but when he saw Delilah he broke off with a hurried excuse and made his way across the courtyard. His straight-backed enthusiasm was almost comic, and with an inky finger he pushed aside the smooth black forelock that fell over one eye.
‘You hide your boredom well, Delilah. But I fear discussions have only just begun. Your father drives a hard bargain, but my father has stubbornness on his side.’
‘I’m not bored at all, but there’s not very much for a girl to do here. Perhaps you’d like to show me a little of Ashdod. To see if it compares with home.’
The implication wasn’t lost on Jered, who agreed it was a good idea.
Having obtained permission from Achish, who’d nodded graciously at her request, she left the front of the house with Jered at her side. Out on the street, she arranged her shawl over her head to shade herself from the sun. The mid-afternoon heat had smothered the streets with its soporific spell and after only a few steps even the babble of contentment from the merchant’s garden was inaudible. Delilah paused at the corner and looked around her.
‘Where is everyone?’
‘This is mostly a residential area, so they are probably using their common sense and lying down quietly in the cool of their houses. You’re sure you wouldn’t rather be indoors?’
‘No, I’d rather be out here with you.’
Delilah could feel Jered’s pleasure at the compliment without having to look at him, but she decided to heed Achish’s advice, for a change, and kept her eyes on the street ahead of her. ‘What is it like to live in Ashdod?’
‘I’ve never lived anywhere else, but I like it. The sea is not as close as in Ashkelon, so things are quieter. It’s half a morning’s walk to the harbour, less by cart. Most of our goods arrive there. I spend a good part of my days travelling back and forth between the docks and the warehouses, meeting the ships, taking an inventory of the goods, and then accompanying them back again to be stored.’
‘And where are those?’
‘We have two on the western side of the city – they are visible from the roof of the house if you wish to see them for yourself. But I wouldn’t take you there on my own. It’s not the safest part of town for a young lady.’
Jered’s cheeks had reddened, but Delilah pretended not to notice. He was really rather sweet, a beguiling mixture of confident merchant and attentive suitor, yet with a slight awkwardness she hadn’t noticed the first time she’d met him. He had none of Joshua’s easy charm, but those berry-stained hands and his earnest expression as he tried to decipher whether she was serious or joking, lent him an inner softness that balanced his good looks.
‘I won’t pretend otherwise, but robbery in the streets and theft from businesses are a problem in Ashdod. This is the wealthiest of the Philistine cities, and we get a lot of customers from the region, and even from as far away as Lachish and Jerusalem. I suppose that those with lots of money will always draw envy from those who haven’t any.’
Delilah thought of the Israelite families on the road this morning, but she knew she couldn’t talk about them to Jered. Achish had been right. It was possible to be pretty or clever, but not both. As they turned onto the market street she pulled her shawl a little further back on her head to show off a little more of her neck and the clusters of tiny pearls that dropped from her ears.
In the mornings or late afternoons these streets were probably very busy, but now the place was mostly empty and Delilah could see servants dozing on benches in the shade. But the array of wares was amazing and she shook her head at the sheer variety of it all – furniture and carpets, bolts of cloth, and spreads of food that rivalled even Mizraim’s stock.
One particular stall immediately caught her eye. It was piled high with plates, bowls, jugs and jars. The edges of each piece had been delicately fluted by some tiny tool, which had presumably been used to pinch the clay back and forth. The base of each piece had been fired white and painted with a geometric design in black.
‘This is so beautiful,’ she said, ‘but I’ve never seen anything like it before.’
‘I believe it comes from a land beyond Egypt,’ said Jered.
Delilah picked up one of the very smallest bowls and cupped it in the palm of her hand. The fluting would make it messy to drink from, but it would look beautiful on her dresser, full of hairpins or jewellery, or better still just empty in the centre, white and black against the pale wood. The jugs were wonderful too, and perhaps if there was time she could bring Achish here on the way home so that he might buy some for his finest vintages. That would be a nice touch, presenting the best of the vineyard’s riches in something more exotic, more memorable than the usual—
Her attention was caught by movement at the next stall, a saddler, but no sooner had she looked up than she quickly snapped her gaze back to the bowl again, her legs suddenly weak, all imaginings of the future swept away by the cold shadow of the past. It might have been three years since she’d last seen Samson, but nothing about him had changed. He still stood two feet taller than her, with thick woven braids tethered to his head. But it wasn’t his size that made Delilah’s heart thump under her breast. It was his eyes, those bright blue eyes that seemed to chill and burn her at the same time.
Chapter Eight
Delilah regretted having pushed her shawl back so far from her face. It would be too conspicuous to start playing with it now, and had it been as far forward as it should have been, she could have been reasonably confident of anonymity on this hot afternoon. But it was too late now and the knowledge of Samson’s presence only a few paces away was impossible to ignore, as was the unmistakeable feeling of his attention on her. It was all she could do to lay the bowl calmly back on the top of the pile without breaking it.
Her fingers