Chaos

With exploding clay shots decimating their ranks, the Midianites didn’t know which target to choose; the foot soldiers or the camels? Most aimed for somewhere in between.

Arrows rained down like deafening hail on the ground in front of Joshua. All he could do was lie still and sweat it out, hoping none hit their mark.

“Salman,” yelled Joshua, I’m feeling helpless here.”

“Don’t worry,” Salman replied over the roar of arrows striking the earth “They’re hitting no mans land.”

Joshua looked up again, and much to his relief saw that Salman was right. They were safe, at least for the moment.

“Now can we fight?” asked Caleb

“Nooooooo! Stay down.”

Salman reloaded and fired a second volley as Phinehas thundered ever closer towards the Midianites.

Enemy horses suddenly caught the scent of the camels and panicked at the apocalyptic sight. No amount of curses and whipping could restrain them from throwing their riders and fleeing the battle field in terror.

“And I thought camels were a silly idea,” said Joshua. “Now can we attack?”

“Yes! Quickly,” replied Salman, helping him up off the ground.

“About time, I’m due for a nap soon,” joked Caleb.

Joshua and Caleb charged towards the enemy, as two thousand slingers drew their swords and joined ranks with the Hebrew infantry.

With the slingshots still raining judgement from the sky, Phinehas’ camelry smashed through the Midianite frontline. Their long spears were unstoppable. A devastating jab to the chest, a gut, and a neck - in two seconds three men were slain by the hand of Phinehas.

Joshua kept running - muscles aching, heart pounding - whatever it took to keep up with the younger soldiers. He could see King Hur now, through the rows of Midianites decimated by slingshots.

Clay shrapnel tore through shields and flesh. Standing beside King Hur, the potbellied King Rekem turned around to call for reinforcements, but there were none. A few men staggered around in a daze, holding wounds on their head and limbs. No one was spared.

Not even King Rekem.

Barely had he time to turn and to face the camels, when a final clay shot embedded in his forehead. Dead on his feet, it took a moment for him to topple like a massive cedar tree falling to the ground.

Joshua finally reached the front line, momentarily disorientated in a forest of camel legs and thick undergrowth of dead and dying men. Where was Phinehas? What the heck was going on?

War

Children’s temper tantrums are usually a little more sophisticated by the time they grow up and go to war, but for King Hur, the best he could do was smash large pottery flagons of wine on the battle ground where he paced like a wounded bull.

“Curse Joshua! Curse his god, his prophet and his people”, bellowed the angry tyrant, “I’ll drink the blood from his skull before this day is done.”

The King’s murderous rants left globules of spit dangling from his long bushy beard, as he tip-toed around the shards of broken pottery. If the situation wasn’t so serious, his subordinates would have laughed at the absurdity of such a dummy spit. So incredulous were Hur's violent threats, it seemed he mourned the loss of his pride more than his daughter.

The Midianite’s proud words did nothing to impress his regal companions assembled on that dreaded day of battle. Four other kings united forces with Hur - King Evi, Rekem, Reba and Zur all appeared sympathetic to Hur's personal loss, but “pathetic” more accurately described the true nature of their allegiance.

It was alliance of fools, politicians and mercenaries - the worst way to go to war, and for the very worst reasons. Hastily forged in the fires of convenience, Hur’s army flagrantly mocked the Hebrews under the hideous banner of their man-made god, Baal Peor.

Nevertheless, across the dry hot valley the two armies stood. The Midianites to the north were a ragged horde of ten thousand barbarians and nomads, blackmailed into service on the promise of spoils and the threat of retributions. The pride of their forces consisted of several hundred horsemen, mercenaries who were as fine as any calvary in the known world (as long as they were paid).

In front were several thousand archers, mostly herdsmen who hunted wild goats in their spare time, but their weapons were equally deadly aimed at human foe. At the rear, six or seven thousand foot soldiers bulked up their numbers, but the absence of any real discipline or fighting prowess was clearly evident in their motley assortment of weaponry. Sickles and pruning knives, stone axes and rough metal implements suggested that they either lacked the ability to forge iron or had arrogantly assumed the Hebrews would pay for the convenience of a negotiated peace.

The Hebrew army stood on the opposite hilltop in strict formation, looking keen, focussed and ready for battle.

Joshua and Caleb eagerly observed their preparation from a distance. They weren’t asked to fight the Midianites, as it was Moses’ decision for Phinehas to lead the troops into battle.

“...to reward his zeal for killing King Hur’s daughter,” said Joshua.

“Or finish what he started?” Caleb asked.

“Perhaps.”

Joshua studied the battlefield to guess Phinehas’ plans. At the front, Salman marshaled two thousand slingshots, armed with long leather straps and hollow clay balls the size of oranges. A hit to the skull could kill a man at three hundred yards - or worse still, shatter on his shield and tear shreds of flesh off several men. Wounding three was better than killing one, if only for the chaos it created.

In the middle, Zebulan (Salman’s older brother) led nine thousand foot soldiers, swords held high glistening in the morning sun. They stood in twelve groups of about seven hundred and fifty a piece, each behind the banner of their tribe.

At the rear, Phinehas commanded a frightening force of a thousand riders, mounted on camels and armed with long spears. Slower than horses, but faster than foot soldiers, the camels towered over all with their impressive size and proud gait.

“I didn’t come here to watch,” said Joshua. “You think we can help?”

“Yes,” Caleb assured him, “But should we?”

Joshua stroked his beard and considered his options.

“Moses did ask Phinehas to lead the battle.”

“But he didn’t say we couldn’t fight,” replied Caleb.

“True. So we fight now, and ask for forgiveness later,” Joshua laughed as he galloped off to race his old friend once again.

Kill them all

Later that evening, Joshua entered Moses’ tent with a great deal of fear and trepidation. The events of that day had been so horrific he had no time to process them, let alone break the news to Moses.

The old prophet sat by the soft flickering light of a lamp, diligently transcribing a parchment scroll. It must have been something of such great importance for he didn’t even look up when Joshua entered.

His wrinkled hands were rough and gnarled, but still strong enough to meticulously etch the ancient Hebraic text. The room was cluttered with scrolls, both leather and papyrus, piled high on the chairs and table - so high in fact, that Joshua couldn’t even see Moses speak as he cautiously approached.

“King Hur's daughter, if the rumors are correct?” said Moses as he carefully lay his quill down on the desk.

“Yes, the Midianite”, replied Joshua, “apparently Phinehas didn't know who she was.”

“Would it matter?”

Joshua rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Unlikely.”

Moses nodded his head slowly. “And I guess they asked how you know her?”

“Yes,” replied Joshua.

“What did you tell them?”

“The truth. It’s better than rumors, though harder to believe sometimes.”

Moses stood up from his chair, cleared the table of several stacks of scrolls, then turned to face Joshua for the first time in the conversation.

“Phinehas did a great thing. To be honest, I’m not sure if I could do that myself, even in my younger years. Yes, it was brutal and savage. But more than that, he drew a line in the sand.”

“A line in the sand?” remarked Joshua. “Slaughtering Hebrews is something we normally leave for our enemies. God knows there are enough of them. Besides, he’s lucky he didn’t kill the wrong couple.”

Moses smiled as he embraced Joshua warmly. “Luck had nothing to do with it. This is a sign, don’t you see? Getting Israel out of Egypt was easy, but getting Egypt out of Israel - a nightmare.”

“Really? I wake up from nightmares,” Joshua replied, pulling himself away.

“I understand,” said Moses. “Forty years is too long to suffer for someone else’s sins, but that’s all gone now.”

“What?” asked Joshua.

“King Hur’s daughter wasn’t the only one who died today. You, me and Caleb are now the only old ones left.”

“Dear Lord!” exclaimed Joshua. His mind raced with so many thoughts, so many old hurts, he didn’t know what to say.

“You know what this means?” Moses asked.

“Yes, of course,” replied Joshua, and in an instant he felt the pain of an old festering wound suddenly re-opening in his soul.

Moses took a deep breath and finished off a goblet of wine on the table. He gently placed the cup back on the bench, wiped his old grey beard and cleared his throat.

“Joshua, a leader without followers is just a cranky old prophet.”

“Maybe that’s our only consolation,” Joshua replied, “the just outlive the wicked.”

“I wish it were always true,” Moses continued, as he rolled out a map on the table.

Joshua sensed there was more Moses wanted to say, but couldn’t bring himself to ask what it was.

Moses breathed a heavy sigh and continued. “Last night in the Tabernacle, God spoke to me about two things. Firstly...”

“What?” Joshua asked, almost fearful of the answer.

Moses placed small stones at each corner of the map to keep it flat on the table. Stretching out his bony index finger, he drew Joshua’s attention to the last east of the Jordan river.

“Five Midianite Kings stand between us and the promised land. By dawn, King Hur will hear of his daughter’s death and will undoubtedly assemble the largest army he can muster. I’ll ask Phinehas to take twelve thousand of our best troops and wipe them out”.

Joshua sat down to digest the moment. I knew this was coming, he thought, so why do I feel hopelessly unprepared? He resigned himself to the obvious.

“It’s begun. We're invading Canaan?”

Moses nodded. “Yes. This will be the first of many battles. Kill them all - men, women, and children.”