the left side of his siege machine. He had to protect it. It would be a disaster if this machine too was severely damaged or caught fire. He could feel the heat. How much more could it take? At this rate the water in the caldron wouldn’t last long. He was able to get the captain’s attention. “Captain, we require more water, sir.”
“Urgent?”
“Yes sir, priority two.”
The captain sent a messenger with the request.
The worry must have distracted him, for Itur-Ea did not see the rock that struck his helmet. In pain, he let go of the ladle and fell onto the deck. Everything seemed to disappear into a haze and stars of light danced before his eyes. Itur-Ea willed himself to crawl to the caldron. He splashed water over his face. Still dazed, he stood up slowly. As he looked over the side he again became aware of the fire smoldering not far away. No time to waste! He grabbed the ladle.
It seemed like an eternity until a mule with jars of water arrived. Making its way through the rows was not easy. The siege machine captain helped to haul the jar onto the upper deck before pouring the water into the caldron. As the mule made its way to the next machine it went down, pierced by arrows.
The siege machine shook. It had been struck by a large stone. Itur-Ea could hear it groan and creak, but the bracing did not give way. They must have launched more boulders, thought Itur-Ea close to panic. But as he peered forward he realized that the rocks now falling down on them were not thrown by men. They had been dislodged out of the wall. It was finally crumbling! An avalanche of stones fell around the siege machines as a whole section of the wall gave way. The wooden galleries on top of the wall dropped down, the defenders scurrying to flee the collapsing structures. The inner side of the wall still stood—strong, yet damaged and vulnerable.
The Assyrian storm troops seized the opportunity and climbed over the rubble, scaling the wall. After the initial shock, the men of Lachish defended the breach violently. Dozens of Assyrians fell by their swords. But wave after wave of attackers pushed forward, climbing over fallen comrades and foes.
Around the city, the Assyrian army stormed the walls. Ladders were carried up and leaned against the walls. And the first attackers began to penetrate Lachish.
* * *
As Simchah moved the grindstone back and forth, Rivkah poured grains of barley onto the quern. They were gathered up in Simchah’s next movement, crushed under the stone and ground to flour.
“Put a few more on, Rivkah!”
“Hey, the flour will be far too coarse if I pour on too much barley at a time. And I don’t want to be around when your mother looks at the flour then.”
“But just look how much we still have to do!” Simchah nodded towards the bowl of barley beside Rivkah.
“Not that much, really.” Rivkah drew up her eyebrows. “I wished we had more. At least then we would get bigger chunks of bread.”
“I suppose you’re right. But why do I have to do it now?” Simchah complained.
“I don’t know, but I already had to do it at home this morning. So stop complaining!”
“You’re nearly as bad as my mother. And you’re supposed to be my friend.”
“Ah, come on Simchah. I’m just pointing out the obvious. I am helping you after all.”
“Thanks, but it’s still not fair.” Simchah clearly had other things in mind than preparing tomorrow’s bread.
“Your mother would probably have you doing something else if you weren’t occupied with the flour. So don’t hurry too much,” Rivkah whispered.
“But I really want to find out what’s been happening at the southern wall. They’ve been fighting since dawn. Soldiers are hurrying along the street from the citadel. Even my father has gone to fight today,” Simchah complained.
Yes, today was different. Everybody sensed it. People were following any news from the clashes with apprehension. Rivkah had helped around the house earlier today, but then slipped off to see Simchah at the first opportunity. Mother was so irritable and unreasonable today. Even Shomer got confused. You were never quite sure just what you were supposed to be doing. First she sent Rivkah to the loom, then realized she didn’t have the wool she wanted for the fabric; next she told her to get more water and, after frantically searching for an empty jar, had thought it too dangerous to go to the well; then she had given dozens of contradictory orders and became upset when Rivkah wasn’t doing what she had told her. Mother must be totally confused. But then this siege got to quite a few people. Father, of course, was just busy in his workshop, hardly saying a word. He certainly didn’t want any girls standing in the way.
“Rivkah, another handful.”
“Sorry.” Rivkah hadn’t paid any attention. She poured a few more grains onto the quern.
“Do you think it’s true?”
“Think what is true?” Rivkah asked.
“That some people are selling their jewelry just to get a bit more grain?”
“Oh, I can believe some people are doing it. They are hungry.”
“But their jewelry!” Simchah put in vehemently. “It’s normally so expensive. And they won’t be getting the full price now.”
“No, they’re not getting a good price,” Rivkah agreed.
“I would never give away my shell necklace.”
Simchah had a beautiful necklace of white shells and narrow, red faience beads. She wore it only on special occasions, but the two girls had looked at it together many times, admiring its beauty. Once, Simchah had even allowed Rivkah to try it on.
“But your necklace is special, Simchah. Nobody would give that away. Some people just sell what they don’t need. Even you said that you’d be glad to get rid of your earrings.”
“Only if I would get new ones, I said. Mine don’t really suit me. They’re just too plain. No decoration, no color at all. I really need to get some nice ones. Do you think anybody would sell me theirs?”
“And how would you pay? Barley?”
“I could put a bit away each day. Nobody would notice and I’ll just eat a bit less.”
“You would never be able to pull that off. You’re already starving now. Even if it’s only barley bread, you’ll still want something to eat.”
“I reckon I could do it.” Simchah sounded offended.
“But what if your parents found out? They wouldn’t be happy,” Rivkah put in another word of caution.
“They won’t find out. I’ll make sure of that. I know where I’ll put the grain.”
“Will it be safe from mice there?”
The question seemed to throw Simchah a bit. She frowned, moved her tongue across her lips and answered slowly, “Yes, it’ll be alright. I just have to ensure the lid fits well.”
“Do you think it’s a good idea? It does sound a bit risky.”
“It’s the best way to get some new earrings soon. I desperately need them.” Simchah’s mind seemed set. She moved the stone furiously across the quern.
Suddenly she stopped. “Hold on. How much to go?”
Rivkah showed her the bowl. There wasn’t much barley left in it.
“Just two more handfuls, Rivkah. I’ll put the rest away.”
Rivkah giggled, “Suddenly you’ll be all keen to grind the flour each day. Just imagine that.”
Simchah looked directly into Rivkah’s eyes. “You won’t tell anyone, will you?”
“No Simchah, I will not tell anyone. I’m your friend.”