Eleanor Jong De

Delilah


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      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 gone?’

      But Achish was staring over her shoulder with alarm. Delilah spun around. Towering beside the cart, his head and shoulders illuminated by the glow of the torch, stood Samson. The wretch who’d attacked her lay crumpled at his feet.

      ‘You!’ she shouted.

      He surveyed the damage, his arms folded across his wide chest. ‘You’re lucky you weren’t killed. These plains are dangerous after dark.’

      Anger flooded Delilah’s veins. ‘How dare you! Your men attacked us.’

      ‘Delilah, no,’ said Achish sternly. ‘This man saved us.’

      ‘Don’t you recognise him?’ she said. ‘It’s Samson. He’s a common bandit.’

      ‘I can see well enough who he is,’ said Achish. ‘It’s lucky he was here.’

      Delilah’s anger swelled up once again, fused with gut-wrenching fear at how horribly the day might have ended. What could she say? She dare not reveal to Achish that this wasn’t the first time she’d seen the monster that day. Yet so many thoughts tumbled over each other, and one question rose so quickly above the others that she couldn’t help but exclaim:

      ‘Have you been following me?’

      Chapter Nine

      Samson appeared not to have heard her. ‘Your rescue will come at a price.’

      So these were his men. All the heroic combat was nothing but a show! Delilah couldn’t contain herself, and why should she?

      ‘You rescue us to get our thanks,’ she hissed, ‘but now you hold us hostage until we pay our own ransom.’

      ‘Delilah,’ cautioned Achish. ‘We’re hardly in a position to argue.’

      ‘That’s exactly the problem,’ snapped Delilah. ‘Samson always makes sure he gets what he wants because no one ever has the courage to challenge him. And if they do, he sets fire to their property.’

      ‘I had nothing to do with the burning of the vines,’ said Samson.

      ‘So you say,’ said Delilah.

      ‘So I say,’ he repeated, his voice as cool and close as the night air. He was lit by a single torch that he held in his hand, his shadow heavier than the dark, his great braids glistening like an army of serpents awaiting his command to strike. ‘You are still several miles from Ashkelon and while I may hold influence over some of these more desperate men, I cannot guarantee your safety. You should at least offer these men something to appease them.’

      ‘That’s exactly what I mean!’

      ‘Delilah, please,’ said Achish quietly.

      She slumped back on the cart bench. Her stepfather rarely had cause to use a warning tone with her these days.

      ‘You are a sensible man, Achish,’ said Samson, suddenly the peacemaker, ‘and a far more accomplished diplomat than your son-in-law Lord Phicol. So I know that you will understand when I claim some small compensation for your people’s harsh and unwarranted taxes on my people.’ He held out the torch and waved it gently over the cart. ‘This will buy off the men who attacked you, and word will go out that you have made a token gesture to repay years of theft.’

      Delilah felt Achish sigh quietly in the dark. ‘I understand.’

      ‘The men will take one donkey, the remainder of the wine and whatever money you have.’ At this, Samson reached out into the dark between them and grabbed Delilah’s wrist in his fist.

      ‘Get off me!’ She wrestled against him, but she could feel her bones bending beneath his grip and she quickly gave up.

      ‘Seeing as you had already thought to buy yourself out of trouble, you can give up this necklace in your lap, and you,’ at this he grasped Achish’s hand, spreading the fingers out for inspection, ‘you will give up your rings. The sum of those items will buy off these men.’

      Delilah looked at Achish, who nodded briskly as he removed the rings from his fingers, including one her own mother had bought for him. Delilah fingered the gold necklace regretfully then flung it at Samson who snatched it out of the air without a glance at her. He rammed the torch into a holster in the corner of the cart, then reached down and hauled up the still groaning bandit who had been so interested in Delilah.

      ‘Take these things and get out of my sight,’ he said, switching to Hebrew. ‘You are lucky I didn’t leave you bleeding in the dark for the wolves. But if I hear you have crossed my lands again, I’ll hunt you down.’

      Delilah stifled her surprise. He didn’t know she understood Hebrew, so his threat to the bandits must be genuine. These weren’t his men after all, though clearly he held some sway over them. She watched as he dropped the jewellery into the man’s hand, then swiftly relieved Achish of his purse. He released one of the donkeys from its harness, then reached into the cart and plucked out the remaining jars of wine, two at a time, laying them down on the dirt. The men swarmed over the prizes, snatched them up and were gone as quickly as they had arrived. Almost instantly, the desert was still and quiet again. The remaining donkey brayed wistfully for its lost companion.

      ‘And now what?’ demanded Delilah, still enraged despite this confusing development. ‘I suppose you’re going to leave us here to struggle home with a single donkey.’

      ‘But your cart is now empty,’ reasoned Samson, ‘so the donkey will have less to pull. Besides,