Short Stories

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The Vow (A short story based on Judges: 11)

They had ridden hard on horseback through the valley from Mizpah, and now lay in each other’s arms in the soft grass on the banks of the Jabbok river. They both knew they did not have much time left. He kissed her softly on the nape of her neck, allowing the fragrant cascade of auburn hair to overwhelm his senses.
‘Do you have to go?’ she asked, running her fingers down his chest inside his open tunic.
‘Your father needs me, you know that. He’s put me in charge of the elite mounted division, I can’t let him down, or the others.’
‘But if we got married now you would be given a year’s sabbatical, we could start a family and …….’
‘And if they overrun us, what then? How do you think I would feel if you’re taken as a sex slave by the Ammonites, or the Philistines, and I did nothing? We have no choice, we either face them or die.’
She gave a resigned shrug. He leaned over her and kissed her lips. ‘You know I’ll come back for you, then we’ll be together forever.’
He stood up and gently lifted her to her feet. ‘Come Seila, we must go now.’

*

In the dim light of early morning the distant hills of Gilead resembled a heaving nest of ants, angry at the presence of an unwelcome intruder. From their camp on a hill near Mizpah, the Israeli legions could see that the Ammonite hoards outnumbered them at least five to one, and from information gleaned from advanced parties, the Ammonite armament included swords, shields, bows and armor reinforced with iron, provided mainly by their Philistine allies. Although the Israelites were experimenting with the smelting of iron, they could only forge a limited number of iron swords for use by their elite warriors, the common soldier was still relying on weapons made of wood and bronze.

Young Reuven, a powerfully built twenty year old section leader from the tribe of Gad, turned to his chieftain. ‘They could attack before the sun rises, Sir,’ he said, trying to hide the urgency he was feeling, ‘are we going to wait for them, or should we rather take them on before they move on us?’
The chieftain studied the restless enemy camp. ‘Two things, Lieutenant,’ he said slowly, ‘I have offered them an alternative to war, but should I receive no reply from them by sunrise, I will await the final signal.’
‘Final signal Sir, what final signal.’
The chieftain tugged at his beard, ‘The signal to attack, Lieutenant. It would be irresponsible of me to take my legions into battle against so vast an enemy equipped with superior weaponry, without the assurance that we won’t be wiped out before midday.’
Before Reuven could ask the obvious next question, the chieftain suddenly fell to the ground and lay facedown in the dirt, groaning as if in agony. Reuven was stunned. At first he thought the chieftain had been shot, but this seemed unlikely as the enemy was well out of range for even their long-range weapons to be effective. The chieftain writhed on the ground for what seemed like an eternity, babbling incoherently, as if in some sort of internal turmoil. Suddenly he became calm and slowly rose to his feet. ‘Send word to all the leaders that we attack on my shofar blast, and tell the men not to fear, the Lord will deliver the enemy into our hands.’

*

Three weeks had passed, and as far as the eye could see, black pillars of smoke rose from the burning Ammonite towns. The fighting had been fierce, but for some reason Reuven felt that the Ammonites had lacked the fiery resolve that he had seen in previous encounters with them. Reuven’s elite mounted force had been more than a match for the handpicked guards of the Ammonite leaders, and even the Israeli foot soldiers had not wavered before the superior armament of the enemy legions. Reuven reflected a moment on the words of his chieftain before the battle: ‘The Lord will deliver them into our hands.’ Although he had believed this, he never thought it could really happen to the extent it did. The Israelis had suffered losses, but they had been few, and even the wounded were recovering remarkably quickly. A huge arm on his shoulder brought his thoughts back. ‘You did well, Lieutenant, I will be proud to have you as my son-in-law.’ The chieftain smiled as they mounted up. ‘Let’s get back to Mizpah, there’s a wedding to be planned, and we can’t keep the little lady waiting.’

*

The news of the Israeli victory had spread fast among the people of Gilead, and even across the Jordan, the tribes breathed a sigh of relief that peace had been won, even though they knew it could only be for a short period. The routes through the villages were crowded with cheering locals, eager to receive their returning heroes home safely. The warrior group grew smaller along the way as husbands were reunited with wives and children, mothers with sons, and lovers locked in each other’s embrace. There was rejoicing and thanksgiving and praises to the Lord were sung again throughout the area.

*

Reuven and the remnant of the chieftain’s group paused on the hillock outside Mizpah, from where they looked down on the farmstead, with its white walls and a thin spiral of smoke rising from the chimney. The chieftain had grown strangely quieter as the journey progressed, and Reuven wondered what was on his mind. On occasions when the group had dismounted to give the horses a rest, the chieftain had secluded himself from the group, often spreading himself facedown on the ground. ‘I guess he’s getting over the stress of the last few weeks,’ the chieftain’s armor bearer remarked to Reuven, ‘he takes his leadership role very seriously, and feels responsible for every man under his command. In addition, because of the victory he will assume leadership of all the people of Gilead, which will place a new burden on him.’
‘Yes, I guess its that,’ answered Reuven, though not convinced. He was reminded of the chieftain’s actions before the first battle, when he had lain writhing on the ground, and knew deep inside that there was some connection with his behavior now.

The group left the hillock and moved down towards the homestead. The chieftain’s face was white as ash as he rode with his eyes fixed on the homestead. Suddenly the front door was flung open and the figure of a young woman burst out. The chieftain gasped and stopped his horse shouting, ‘Stop, go back, get back into the house and don’t come any nearer.’ But the girl could not hear, and kept advancing, singing and dancing, and obviously overjoyed to see the party arriving.
Reuven and the others had no idea what the chieftain was on about. Why had he stopped and why didn’t he want to see his daughter? Shocked, they watched as he tore at his clothes in anguish, then he stopped shouting, drew an arrow from its quiver and loaded his bow. He drew the bow and took aim at the advancing girl.
‘What are you doing?’ screamed Reuven, thinking that the chieftain was having some sort of relapse brought on by exhaustion from the recent fighting. ‘This is Seila coming out to meet us, don’t you recognize her?’ The chieftain rose up on his stirrups, turned to Reuven and screamed, ‘I, Jephthah of the tribe of Manasseh, made a vow before the Lord that if He granted us victory I would sacrifice the first living thing that came out of my house when I returned. I am cursed because it is my only daughter, but I must keep my vow. I cannot burn her alive as a sacrifice, so I’ll kill her swiftly first.’ He took aim again, just as Reuven launched himself out of his saddle and onto Jephthah. The force of the impact knocked the bow down, and the arrow struck the ground at Seila’s feet. Reuven and Jephthah hit the ground together, with Jephthah drawing his dagger from its sheath.
‘Lieutenant, stand down,’ screamed Jephthah, his face contorted with rage, ‘how dare you try to stop me fulfilling my vow to the Lord. A curse be upon you for such indiscipline, I am your commander.’
‘You are my commander, Sir, but Seila is to be my wife. Do you really think you will be pleasing the Lord by offering your daughter as a blood sacrifice, like the heathens do? Human sacrifice is an abomination before the Lord, and you know it.’ Sitting astride Jephthah, Reuven aimed a vicious blow to the side of his head. Jephthah dropped the dagger and lay dazed on the ground. By then Seila had reached them, screaming at Reuven to stop hitting her father. Reuven stood up and ordered two of the men to bind Jephthah’s hands behind his back, and keep him restrained. To Seila he said, ‘Your father was going to kill you and then burn you as a sacrifice to God for giving us victory. We all realize that God performed a miracle against the Ammonites, but there will be no blood sacrifices, there has to be another way. We’ll discuss this further in the house, and seek God’s answer.’ Jephthah, having calmed down, merely nodded as he was led into the house, his hands still tied behind his back.

*

They stood on the banks of the Jabbok in the fading light of day. He bent down and kissed the tears from her eyes, both knowing this was to be their final meeting.
‘I will never forget you,’ he said holding her close to him.
‘You must forget me and move on, my darling, you were there when we came before the Lord and He spoke into our hearts. I must never know you or any other man, that was my promise to the Lord. I will honor my father’s vow, and I will consecrate myself to the Lord and to His work for the rest of my life. I’m grateful to the Lord for what he has done, we have been spared and now we must keep our side of the vow. But ……… I will never forget you either.’
With tears in their eyes they mounted their horses. He leaned over for a final kiss on her cheek, and then turning, he spurred his horse towards the west before either could change their mind, and soon disappeared from her sight.
‘Goodbye, and shalom my love,’ she said to herself, ‘may Jehovah guide and protect you forever.’

End

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