Children of Eber (The Generations Book 4) by McAdoo Caryl

Author:McAdoo, Caryl [McAdoo, Caryl]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2015-11-09T16:00:00+00:00

Ten days out, Abram reached Dan and called for a day of rest. If his steward knew of what he spoke, Tidal and the other kings would be spending more time celebrating their great victory than hurrying home. Abram needed his men and beasts fresh. His scouts had spotted their rear guard less than a day’s march ahead.

The next morn, to his steward’s obvious surprise, he continued letting the camels graze and the young men rest in the lushness of Mount Dan.

Entering the little tent, Eliezer bowed, waited for acknowledgement, then stepped closer when Abram bade him. “My lord, the day is half spent. Should we not press on?”

“Yes, my friend, and so we will, but not for a while yet. Wake me when the shadows grow long.”

The man appeared surprised, then, like someone had kindled a fire in his heart, he appeared to understand. He smiled. “Yes, my lord. Of course. And I will encourage the young men to rest likewise.” He held a finger up. “I will also post sentries.”

“Good.”

Just as the day waned, Abram split his forces. By the moon’s light, his army quietly approached the four kings’ camp. Wine flowed. Tinkling tambourines accompanied the shrill, playful flutes, joined by ringing bells and banging cymbals. The sweet notes hid the footfalls of his armed servants.

Like a pride of lions on a flock of sheep, Abram’s young men fell upon the horde of invaders. Those sober enough fled. The rest didn’t last long. In less than half the stretch it took to break camp, the enemy was routed. Abram and his men pursued the rest all the way to Hobah on the left of Damascus.

The outnumbered forces of Abram slaughtered the four kings and their armies.

The next day he pointed his camel’s nose south.

Instead of a forced march, he took ease for the sake of the huge company of men, women, and children, plus more goods and animals than could be counted for their great numbers. It took Abram a full moon’s worth of shepherding to reach the valley of Shaveh. The desire to rest overrode his longing for home and his wife.

That morn after prayers, he sent a young man to fetch Lot and Eliezer then kindled a fire outside his new tent, a fine thick linen one, well oiled, that had belonged to Tidal, the former King of Nations. His steward arrived soon after the wood blazed, and the nephew sauntered in a good bit later.

“Uncle, should we not be about breaking camp?”

Abram motioned for Lot to sit at his fire. “No, we will stay here a few days in the Vale of Kings. The ample grass and plentiful water for the beasts is a blessing, and we need rest.”

His nephew hiked both shoulders, then allowed his lips to spread a thumb nail’s worth. “At your word, Uncle. I will inform the herdsmen.”

Eliezer, who had been standing out of the way beside a tent pole, came forward. “I will spread the news, sire, get the maidens to boiling laundry water.

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