Ahab summoned Samaria’s elders to the palace. These so-called holy men, instead of showing respect when they arrived, aligned themselves along the wall opposite Ahab’s throne with their chins raised in defiance. These were mostly weak men, Obadiah knew, who had all but abandoned Israel’s God to preserve favor with the queen, even stooping to harbor idols in their homes. But the queen despised them no less for their adultery.
Ahab repeated Ben-hadad’s demands. “Take note of this outrage,” he told his elders. “Hadad had asked for my wives, children, silver and gold and I did not refuse him. Now he’s demanded more.”
“Does Israel no longer have an army?” an elder named Aron stepped forward and asked.
Obadiah knew Aron, an elder with less compromise and more backbone than his peers.
“Must we cower like women before a foreign king?” he said.
“A host of foreign kings,” Ahab answered.
“They drink in their tents,” Aron said, “while their eunuchs prance into our city demanding women, treasure and soon our holy scrolls. And what will we do, O king, if, after you have given Aram everything, they demand still more? Will you ask the men of Samaria to offer themselves as slaves?”
Ahab only shrugged.
“All Israel knows your courage, O king,” Obadiah said. “Why do you refuse to fight?”
“I have something to say,” Jezebel said, rising to speak.
The king said softly, “No,” and Jezebel left the room.
Obadiah smiled a little; Ahab should have choked his queen much earlier in their marriage.
“Truly,” the king sighed, “I don’t know what’s become of my spine.”
“Perhaps there is a spell upon you?” an elder asked.
“Cast by whom?”
Everyone lowered his head. Accusing the queen would have been pointless. The matter had been resolved. Ahab had no choice but to fight.
*
Avi sometimes worked beside his family but always came and left the vineyard as he pleased, never working as long or as hard as his brothers. But one day he stopped to complain about his burden. “As your god spared these vines, Father,” Avi said, “please also spare me. It is unnatural to work as hard as we do. You ask too much of us.”
“No one complains but you, Avi,” Naboth said. “Even the women do more.”
When Avi dropped his mattock and began out of camp, Naboth apologized to Avi’s back then defended him in a one-sided conversation with his family.
Though Yashar had always done whatever chores Naboth had asked, the old vintner had only allowed him to burn brush, haul dirt, and break rocks. Yashar had learned nothing of the art of raising grapes.
“I see your disappointment,” Zach told him one morning, “but don’t feel bad. My father would trust you with his life but roots and cuttings are another thing.”
“I’d like to learn to build a lattice,” Yashar said, “or set the tilt of a terrace with my eye.”
Before Zach could answer, they heard a series of shofar blasts. Naboth led his sons scrambling up the trail where hundreds from the city had already gathered in the plaza. It had been a month since Jezreel had heard news of the war.
“Ben-hadad and his host are in full flight,” a rider from Samaria announced as he arrived on a lathered horse. “They are scattered. The closest to Jezreel are now staggering into the valley at Gur.”
Everyone cheered.
“By decree of the king,” the rider said, “light horse and archers from the capital will reinforce Jezreel before sunset today. Let none interfere with their mission. Do not withhold blankets, water or food—anything they require, says your king—for the short time before the garrison here is restocked.”
“Where are the soldiers from Jezreel who Ahab stole away?” Naboth shouted.
The rider ignored him and raised his fist in a farewell salute. “Ben-hadad and his coalition of kings have been beaten,” he shouted before riding away.
Everyone celebrated, Naboth with his sons, hugging, slapping backs, kissing cheeks and praising God. Yashar left them, unable to enjoy the moment, to go back down the hill and visit his dog.
*
That evening, after a long day’s work, Yashar could see that Naboth was thinking hard. The old man rubbed his whiskers not long after that observation and said, “It must be that Ahab, with this thin deployment here and the enemy flooding into the valley on the run, hopes to flank Hadad’s scattered men and drive them farther north.”
“What else?” Sara said, not a deep military thinker.
“I will tell you,” Naboth said, “I’m tempted to strike down the hill to see for myself. The sight of bouncing heathen backsides in retreat would do my soul well.”
“You will do no such thing,” Sara said before she left the fireside to check on Juttah.
With Sara gone, Naboth’s eyes took on a twinkle. “Go now, Avi,” he whispered, “take Yashar with you, westward first not south along the trade road, then to Ibleam through the hills skirting En-gannim. You will not see Hadad’s men so far from the road, is my guess. Once in Ibleam inquire. I do not trust the king’s rider. I do not trust the king.”
Avi started away but Naboth stopped him. “Remember, leave the main trail early,” he said, “and say nothing to your mother. I’m in no mood for another scolding.” He made Avi repeat his instructions then added something strange to Yashar after holding him briefly back. “Be sure,” he said, “to take care of my boy.”
Yashar paused, confused. Avi was the elder.
“Just say you’ll watch him,” Naboth said, “and we’ll leave it at that.”
*
They travelled at a good pace, the farther they walked from the vineyard, the more Avi talked. “I did not want to return to Jezreel with the rain,” he told Yashar. “There is more to life than working vines.”
“But how could you bear to be away from your family?” Yashar asked.
“You discover our little vineyard during a good time and think it’s a sweet arrangement,” Avi said, “but they are all stuck to the old ways, grubbing dirt and never seeking pleasure. You are lucky, an only child never abused by your mother and father as have I been. My brothers are their favorites. You would not think life so perfect from my point of view.”
They passed En-gannim and started into the foothills. Avi knew the way well. “I played with my brothers here not long ago,” he said. “Omri was king and Israel was safe.” He pointed up, toward a ridgeline. “We’ll climb to there then through that notch to Ibleam.”
Once at the high point Avi sat to rest. “You judge me too,” he told Yashar. “I can see it in your eyes. You wonder why I am not thrilled to live in a tent, sweat like a slave by day then sleep on the ground at night.” He picked up a stone and threw it past Yashar’s ear. “You would not think such ignorant things if you knew more of my life; if you knew more about life in general; if you had ever been to Akko.”
“I have been to Akko.”
“Not at night, I’ll bet, with coin in hand and music playing. I’ve worked the port there, Yashar, and the docks at Tyre. I would have booked a term on a trade ship but for a run of bad luck. Big ships dock at Akko, ships from everywhere, manned by sailors not gardeners, sporting men, entertaining and fun loving fellows nothing like my dad. And oh, let me tell you about the ladies in that town…”
“All Baal worshippers, correct, with piercings and lined eyes like Jezebel’s?”
“I speak of adult pleasure while you mention your fears.”
“I respect you as Naboth and Sara’s son, Avi,” Yashar said, “but how can you be so blind? You know firsthand God’s miracles. If the rain is true, Avi, how can God be false?”
“He was false for almost four years, then, was he not,” Avi laughed, “when all Israel almost died?”
“Your smugness disgusts me,” Yashar said. “You ignore miracles because they testify against your lusts. Only a fool would deny what we have seen.”
Avi stepped up to Yashar, twisted his tunic at his throat and raised his fist.
“Beat me if you like,” Yashar said, “nothing will change.”
So Avi beat him.
It seemed unreal to start. The first blow loosed a tooth. The second confirmed the assault’s reality. Yashar took several more blows without fighting back.
“My witness proves yours a lie,” he said, wiping blood from his chin when Avi stopped, “killing me would not change that.”
When Avi let him go, Yashar spit a tooth onto the dirt between them then smiled, pleased to have taken his best punches and stood his ground. Yashar’s calm and confident composure seemed to unnerve Avi, who turned quickly and ran away.