She came around the corner and stopped dead, stifling a gasp. In the courtyard, the guests were quiet, and all focused on the man who stood in the centre. He was quite simply the biggest man Delilah had ever seen. Surely the biggest in the known world. Her first thought was of the giants whom the gods had fought before people existed at all. Even his shadow, which stretched along the ground and almost touched Delilah’s feet, seemed solid. He might not have been twice the size of his followers, but Delilah found herself mentally measuring her body against his, handspan for handspan. And down his back, as beautifully dressed as her own tresses, were seven braids of hair, held together by bands. The tresses seemed almost golden as the sun fell on them, then a rich polished ochre as he passed through the shade. It ought to be funny, she felt, this man with a woman’s hair, but the urge to laugh was tempered by a grudging respect. He must have been growing it since boyhood. Even though the braids were oiled and smooth, they looked like seven ropes that had been tied to his head in case he ever needed to be controlled.
He surveyed the gathered guests, and for a moment his gaze settled heavily on hers. Those eyes – they were the deepest blue, like the cornflowers that grew in the rough edges of the vineyard. He must have been in his late twenties at the most, and yet her mother spoke of him as some kind of venerated leader. Delilah forgot her manners and stared back for as long as she was able. Then she glanced downwards, sure he’d somehow read her mind. Ekron tugged on her arm and with her attention still firmly fixed on the floor she followed him into the courtyard to take a seat so the betrothal could begin. Well, he certainly lived up to his reputation, at least in terms of description. He wasn’t handsome in the same way as Joshua, but with his broad forehead and strong straight nose, there was something regal about him. His beard, though full and long, didn’t dominate his face any more than those extraordinary braids. And as for his clothes – well, he was perhaps the least elaborately dressed man in the room. He wore only a long plain tunic of black linen, devoid of embroidery or any decoration, and a narrow black belt with a silver clasp. Had no one told him what a special day this was? There were two worn slots in the belt and Delilah realised that these would normally have held knives or some other small blade. Well, she supposed it wouldn’t have been good manners to turn up to one’s betrothal armed to defend oneself, though a person would have to be mad to take him on.
Achish led Samson towards his daughter, like a farmer leading an ox to market. Seeing him in Hemin’s company for the first time, Delilah decided that not even the sum total of Ariadnh’s wisdom could ever prepare Hemin for marriage to this man. There was a wildness about him that would surely terrify even the most experienced of women.
For the first time in nearly fifteen years, Delilah felt a sliver of sympathy for her stepsister.
Chapter Four
Due to their late arrival, Delilah had found herself too far back to clearly hear what was being said in the betrothal ceremony. As the vows approached their conclusion, David, her stepfather’s chief clerk, beckoned to her from the end of the row. She slipped out of the rear of the courtyard and went to meet him.
‘Ariadnh has decided that you are to join the group who are offering the dowry items to Samson,’ he whispered.
Delilah pouted. ‘Achish would never have asked me to do that, it’s a servant’s job—’
‘I know, and I’m sorry, but he isn’t here to overrule her.’
She shouldn’t take it out on David, she knew that. He’d been a close friend of her dead father and had always shown kindness to her and her mother.
‘So what do I have to do?’ she sighed.
‘There are jars of the best wine lined up in the kitchen, and there is one small jug of the very special vintage from last year’s heavy rains. The jars are about as tall as you, so you are to carry the jug. Come in last, at the end of the line.’
‘Is that all he’s getting?’
‘There are bolts of linen too, but all together it’s only a quarter of the dowry. The Philistine way is to give a part at betrothal and the rest at marriage.’
‘That sounds exactly like the sort of business Achish would normally do.’
David gave her a dry smile and turned away without responding. Delilah set off for the kitchen, where she found Joshua with the rest of the staff. Every single servant on the estate had been commandeered to help with the ceremony, and here were all the other stable boys smartly dressed up just like Joshua, though not to the same knee-weakening effect. At the far end of the table the special round-bottomed jug stood in its stand, and as she reached it Joshua sidled up to her.
‘What are you doing out here with us?’
‘I think it’s my punishment for not changing my dress.’
He wasn’t standing quite as close this time but she could smell the oil on his skin, and a sweetness too.
‘Have you been sampling the dowry, Joshua?’
He grinned. ‘Of course not. The master is much too good a man to trick anyone like that. But we have been testing each of the jugs we are using to serve the guests. It’s Lord Phicol’s orders. Just because he’s an important Philistine, he thinks all these Israelites are trying to poison him.’
‘That’s ridiculous.’
‘It’s how it is, though, isn’t it?’
‘So they send Hemin to put a bandage on the sore.’
Joshua grinned again. ‘They should have sent you. You could have healed any wound just by kissing it—’
Before Delilah could decide how to answer, one of the senior house servants came in and clapped his hands. Joshua quickly took his place in the line again. The servants moved out into the hallway carrying their heavy loads.
Delilah followed, lifting her head self-consciously as she entered the hallway, ready to assume her role as the jewel at the end of the staff. Here she was no longer simply Hemin’s sister in a pretty new dress; she was an unmarried daughter of a rich Philistine. Her mother was right. I’ll be next.
As they entered the sunlight again, Achish was standing with Hemin before the crowd and Samson had planted his feet like a statue beside them. He watched impassively as the men carried the jars and leaned them with care against the wall. The bolts of linen, protected by hemp lining, were stacked on a table. Delilah came last with the jug, and gave a small bow before standing it beside them. She took her place next to the servants and looked up to see her mother, seated in the front row with the other important guests, give her a proud smile. With the oath-taking over, the guests were muttering among themselves.
Samson said something to the man who stood beside him – the young Israelite whom Delilah had smiled at when serving wine. He spoke to Achish in abrupt though surprisingly fluent Philistine.
‘Is this all you have for our leader? You dignify him with just five jars and six bolts of cloth?’
The guests towards the front went quiet, and the silence spread over the others.
Delilah had never seen her stepfather challenged before. Achish was pale-faced, taken aback. David scurried forward, unrolling a scroll in his hand.
‘It’s merely a deposit, a small portion of the full dowry as a token of good will. I’m sure my master explained that this is the Philistine way—’
At this, two of the visiting Israelites stepped up beside Samson, shorter and leaner, but still intimidating bodyguards. The atmosphere had turned in an instant. ‘We don’t want to hear about the Philistine way,’ continued the spokesman. ‘What about our customs?’
Delilah was worried for David and edged closer. Hemin looked like she was about to faint, and her face searched her father’s. Delilah remembered Ariadnh’s chuckled words about luxuriating for the first time against the body of a new husband. Any hope of that seemed to have evaporated in sheer terror.
‘I thought I had made