Sunrise on the Mediterranean by Suzanne Frank

Author:Suzanne Frank [FRANK, SUZANNE]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780446561464
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2009-05-30T04:00:00+00:00

The trek would take us most of the evening. Since Yoav had the city of Jebus under observation 24/7, as part of a presiege stakeout, we would see soldiers on their way home after their weeklong shift. Some training in my mind noted that these posts were therefore empty for at least four hours once a week. Did the Jebusi know that?

There was no talking, just walking. At about two A.M. in the middle of our trek, we met up with the others. Total silence was maintained, just gestures of greeting as each tribesman passed. I kept my covered head down, my eyes averted. Yoav didn’t want anyone to ascertain his plan for getting into the city because they might steal it.

My mind was completely blank by the time the sun rose. The colors passed through the spectrum so rapidly, I hardly had time to appreciate them. The sky turned red, then pink, with tendrils of gold etching the clouds, then the sun was fully up, pouring light onto the white stone city of Jebus.

Zion, Jerusalem the Golden, City of Peace.

Whoa.

It was built of reflective stone, so it picked up the colors of the sunrise. High on the hill, it seemed showered in golden light. Below us we saw the circumscription lines on the hills.

History was in the making.

Seeing how it was surrounded on three sides by steep valleys, with a mesa rising behind it, I realized for the first time how secure this city was. I had not been here before, and Father never discussed Jerusalem as a destination, only as the plum of negotiations.

All of the many tiny kingdoms around here had tried to oust the Jebusi. Despite the city’s many gates, no one had ever conquered Jebus. For one, it was impossible to approach unseen; for another, the Jebusi seemed to have an endless supply of water, food … and patience.

Our handpicked team of twenty of Yoav’s men fanned out, two of us per lookout. My partner, Dov—of the sheep-jesting fame—and I had a post observing the back of the city and the mountain, since Yoav thought we might be able to do better work out of sight.

People were already standing in line to get through the city gates. Some were there to sell, others to buy, still others to see King Abdiheba. Most of them were there seeking permission to cross Abdiheba’s land into upper Canaan. It was the on-ramp to the King’s Highway, which led from the Salt Sea straight up to Mitanni, then into Assyria—twentieth-century Arab enclaves.

According to Yoav, Dadua said the pagan tribes—the Amoni, the Amori, the Keleti, the Edomi, Moabi, Alameda, not to mention the united tribes who were Dadua’s cousins— were watching how the tribesmen handled the attempt at Jebus.

A victory over the Jebusi would establish Dadua’s supremacy over the remainder of the countryside. No battles would be necessary, for the other tribes, impressed by Dadua’s primacy, would be open to negotiating.

We pitched our goatskin tent, which was nothing more than

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