THE VILLAGE OF SHITTIM, WHERE THE ISRAELITES WERE camped, lay some ten miles east of the Jordan, almost directly opposite Jericho on the western side of the river. This meant that in order to reach Jericho, Joshua, the Israelite commander, was going to have to move his army, their families, and their provisions across the river. His problem was that the usually tranquil, meandering Jordan was a raging torrent in the spring, fed as it was by melting snow from the northern mountains. But spring was the time of year when the Israelites had made their escape from Egypt, and Joshua was determined to attack Jericho soon after his people had celebrated their feast of Passover, which commemorated that miraculous feat.
When Isaac and Gideon, the two men Joshua had sent to once more check the level of the river, returned to camp, they found their leader standing alone, his eyes turned westward, toward Jericho. It was late in the afternoon and the sun was hanging low above the horizon, silhouetting Joshua’s figure against the red sky. The scouts hesitated, wondering if they should disturb his solitude. His lined face was set like stone and he was so still that Isaac thought he almost looked like a pagan statue. Finally Gideon took a few steps forward and murmured his leader’s name. Joshua turned to greet them and ask for their report.
“The river is still in full spate,” Isaac said. “We might get the army across, but not the women, children, and animals.”
As one, the three men turned to regard the camp spread out before them. They had been at Shittim for some time, and the women had made things comfortable. Tents covered the flat landscape and the smells of cooking wafted their way on the breeze. There were no men in sight; Joshua had sent them off under their commanders to practice with arms and to build up their strength for the coming fight. The Israelite army had never yet lost a battle, and their reputation as a fierce and ruthless fighting force had been honestly earned.
Joshua, who was not a big man, commanded with his powerful personality and burning dark eyes. He said now to the two men, “Do not doubt. If we are strong and courageous and act always in accordance with the laws Moses gave to us, we shall take possession of the land Yahweh has promised to our people. Now listen closely, for this is what I want you to do. Tomorrow you will cross the Jordan and enter into the city of Jericho. We already have two men in place within the city, and they will be looking for you. They have spied out the strengths and weaknesses of the city, and you are to receive this information from them and return to me. Do you understand?”
The two men bowed their heads in acknowledgement. Gideon said, “All that you have commanded us we will do, and wherever you send us we will go. Just as we obeyed Moses in all things, so we will obey you.”
Briefly, Joshua laid a hand on Gideon’s sleeve. Then he said, “The man you are looking for is called Nahshon and he is in disguise as a Canaanite trader from Gaza. He is lodging in Jericho with his son, Sala. Every morning you may find them at a wine shop on the main road just before the walls that lead into the Upper City. It has a sign outside displaying an olive tree. When you go there you must wear a scarlet cord on your belt. That is how they will know you. Once you receive their information, bring it back to me.”
Gideon and Isaac traded a look at this mention of spies already in place. This was the first they had heard of such a thing. Gideon said, “We will follow your instructions, Joshua. But what if we can’t find this wine shop? Are you sure it exists?”
“Nahshon knew about it from a friend of his who had been inside the city. Yahweh will guide you, Gideon. You will find this place.”
Both men nodded solemnly. Ever since the God they had called Elohim, Creator, had revealed His true name to Moses, the Israelites had no longer used the name Elohim. They said Yahweh, a word that in Hebrew meant I AM. Yahweh had told Moses that He was: The Lord, the God of your ancestors, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob. This is My name forever and this is My title for all generations. Ever since that revelation to Moses, the Israelites had called their God Yahweh.
Joshua said to Gideon and Isaac, “If it is possible, bring Nahshon and his son back with you; it will not be safe for them inside the city. When we take Jericho, we will leave nothing standing that breathes within. We do the will of Yahweh, who wants His people to have this precious land. For this He took us out of Egypt, and for this must we continue to strive.”
“May Yahweh be with you, Joshua,” the men responded. “We will do as you have asked.”
The following day, just as the sun was rising, Isaac and Gideon left Shittim to ford the flooding river Jordan and begin the trek to Jericho.
In the days after the New Year festival, more and more people from the surrounding countryside began to pour into the city. The Lower City, where most of the refugees were living, was full to bursting, but the wealthy merchants and nobles in the Upper City had refused to open their courtyards to the farmhands and shepherds who made up most of the new population. King Tamur realized that some solution to the overcrowding had to be found, and this was one of the reasons he had called the meeting of his council.
The other reason was connected to the first but was potentially even more dangerous. The refugees were full of horror stories about the Israelites and the death and destruction they had sown through all the southern kingdoms. Even behind the huge walls of Jericho their stories were igniting fear among the residents. The unthinkable question was being asked: was it possible that these warlike Israelites might batter down the thickest and highest walls of any city in the land?
The king and the council, which was made up of a mixture of his followers and his father’s old advisors, were confident the walls could not be breached.
“Jericho can hold out under a year-long siege if we have to,” Tamur said as the group met in the king’s apartment. “That is not our immediate problem. The immediate problem is the doubts that are going round the city because of these new people. However, first I wish to discuss the housing problem.”
The older men, the ones who owned the big houses in the Upper City, looked at each other then back to the king, wary expressions on their faces.
Tamur went on, “I am going to command that tents be set up in every park and open space in the Upper City.” He flicked a glance at one of the lords, who had moved his hand in seeming protest. “I do not want to hear any complaints from the nobles about their space being commandeered. We cannot turn these people away, so we must have a place for them to shelter. The city has plenty of water and plenty of grain. We have soldiers to man the walls if the enemy should be foolish enough to rush us. Nor can the Israelites hope to win if they lay siege. Their provisions will give out before ours do.”
Hearty agreement sounded from the men of the council.
“Good,” said Tamur. “Now, to this other issue. I have been told that fear is spreading around the city like wildfire. Is this the case?”
Silence fell, then Farut, the youngest, spoke up. “I think it is a serious problem, my lord. Frightened people do dangerous things.”
Lord Arazu said, “I have another concern. Suppose this talk is being spread deliberately?”
Tamur nodded, as if he had already had the same idea.
The high priest asked, “Do you mean the Israelites might have agents in the city whose job it is to spread unrest?”
“That could easily be so,” said the military commander, Akiz. “With the numbers of people pouring into the city, it would not be hard for spies to hide among the crowds.”
Tamur nodded again.
Arazu said, “My lord, I think we should find out exactly who these people are who are spreading the frightening tales about the Israelites.”
Tamur spoke crisply, “I agree, Lord Arazu, and I have ordered some men from the guard to dress in ordinary clothes so they can mix with the populace. These rumors are coming from the Lower City, and your fear that spies might be among us is a thought I have had myself.”
“Of course it’s coming from the Lower City,” Lord Edri muttered. His rodent’s face was clenched with anger. “The riffraff are the only ones stupid enough to believe our walls can be breached.”
“We must watch the gate closely, my lord,” one of the younger men said. “Spies might already be here, but we do not want any more coming in.”
Akiz said, “That is being taken care of.”
“Very well, then,” the king said, standing up. “We will begin setting up the tents right away. And I do not want to hear any complaints from the nobility about ‘riffraff’ in the Upper City. I will leave you your houses, but the parks will have tents in them.”
Lord Arazu bowed his head. “Yes, my lord.”
The council broke up, leaving the new young king satisfied that he had the city under control.