“You’re right, Jael. You are going to have to get the arches down first. Otherwise, you will never hit the gates. I do worry, though.. ”
“About what?”
Rezon folded his arms. “We could end up blocking the gates completely. If we do, we won’t be able to get the rams into position. Maybe we should just push the rams forward. The arches could even provide cover.”
“Rezon, those main arches are a death trap.”
“They have murder holes?”
“And spouts for hot oil.”
Rezon spat on the ground. “Then knock them down.”
Uzziel peered down from a spotter’s post in a blockhouse upon the inner wall. The sound of popping pebbles from grinding wheels had caught his attention. Below him, the gates of the inner wall had been flung wide open. Eight machines, much lighter and more nimble than the heavy catapults being used by the enemy, creaked their way down the ramp, flanked on either side by the soldiers who rolled them. He pulled at Josiah’s sleeve.
“What are they doing?”
“Captain Jeremy had us build the onagers in secret. They were assembled far up the canyon and tested there. From what I hear, they have been marked with distance lines. With the assistance of a good spotter and some luck, we should be able to aim them with great accuracy. Obviously, the Gideonites don’t know we have them.”
Uzziel was excited. He didn’t know what the weapons were, but any advantage, especially if obtained by a surprise attack, thrilled him.
“What do they fire?” he asked.
“Yes,” Abram replied, snickering.
Uzziel was confused at first, but then it hit him. “Oh!”
A messenger ran up the stairs to the blockhouse and saluted. “Captain Jeremy sent me. He wanted you to know that although the eastern sally port was completely blocked by debris, the western port is still operational. He doesn’t think the Gideonites are aware of this. Only one of the men stationed there was injured. None killed. The captain says he will only open the door again if strategically necessary.”
“Thank you.”
The messenger scurried off.
Through a wide observation slit in the stone wall, Uzziel stared down at the onagers, now well onto the grassy pathway between the two protective city walls. Captains of ten and fifty arranged the engines in an arc and prepared them for service. A fire-pit, which Uzziel had not noticed before, hummed with activity. Pairs of men hauled iron balls coated in a sticky, tarry substance to each onager, handing the projectiles off to the teams manning the weapons. The teams then loaded the leather pockets hanging from the ends of the throwing arms.
A spotter on the outer wall relayed direction and distance for each of the onagers separately. Soldiers operating the engines moved adjustable stopping bars and anchored them in place while designated soldiers stood at the ready to set a burning torch to each tarred ball. Once the spotter signaled their readiness, the captain gave the order.
Eight flaming balls rose high over the outer wall and came crashing down onto two catapults near the trenches. Enemy soldiers near the siege engines stared in disbelief as all but one of the projectiles hit its mark. An alarm sounded, and Rezon’s soldiers rushed forward with water buckets to douse the flames, but one of the units was so completely engulfed by flame that they abandoned it. The spotter on the wall signaled again, this time indicating perfect hits.
A cheer that seemed to shake the heavens echoed back and forth between the peaks on either end of the valley. Uzziel supported himself on one hand as he leaned closer to the observation slit, nervous about the retaliation he knew would be forthcoming. His hand trembled. Frantic activity down below made him look again. What he saw drew out a smile-sloshing buckets being passed so fast along a line of soldiers that by the time they reached the catapults, the remaining water was almost less than a spit. He had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing.
Rezon stood in the observation hut, seething with anger. He shouted orders for the three loaded catapults to be aimed in the direction from which they had been attacked. Responding to the commands, soldiers struck latches with mallets, and the machines launched their stones high over the wall. Yelling and great commotion from inside floated over the walls, heard by all the ranks of Gideon.
Stretching further out the open window, Rezon thought he could make out screams of pain.
Oozing with delight at the successful hit, he guffawed as he slapped Jael on the shoulder. “That will teach them.”
Uzziel held his breath as three large stones sailed high over the battlements, hurtling toward the open field between the walls of Ramathaim. He stood, his old eyes focused on their expected impact point, then he let out a sigh of relief when he realized the onagers were already being moved. He watched with interest as a group of Uzzahite soldiers ran up to the three Gideonite stones that missed their mark, now sunk into the grassy turf. Turning toward the wall with their hands cupped around their mouths, a few soldiers took turns yelling. Some of the men banged on shields. One of them screamed as if in pain. Then, with their ruse accomplished, they hurried from the area and rejoined their ranks.
Peering down to where the onagers had been moved, he saw that soldiers were already prepping them for another attack. He clapped his hands with joy as he saw the Uzzahite captains manning the weapons signal to the spotters that no one had been injured, and that all the machines were safe.
Soldiers brought fresh leather pockets to replace the ones that had been damaged by the flaming projectiles, then loaded more tarred iron balls. The targeting and firing process repeated, and as soon as the fireballs were airborne, the rope-drawn onagers lurched toward the central ramp.
Intent on the fields outside the outer wall, Uzziel listened as the missiles fell. He heard the splintering booms of another breaking catapult. He heard shouts-cries of pain-the twang of bows from enemy archers randomly targeting areas around the last known firing location. Above it all, he could hear a single man ranting at the top of his lungs. Unintelligible threats drifted up to the blockhouse. Uzziel could not make them out at first, but then recognized a few distasteful words. He frowned.
Leaving the blockhouse so he could avoid the language and also congratulate Captain Jeremy, stationed below, Uzziel motioned Josiah and Abram to follow. As he descended the steep stairs with Abram’s assistance, the ranting continued to echo off the cliff walls on either side of the city. Uzziel wondered who was so angry. The few words he could make out were offensive, and one even blasphemous. He wiped his brow, muttering under his breath.
“May the God of heaven have mercy on that man’s soul.”
Chapter 26
Late that evening as the first stars flickered in the sky, the battle between Gideon and Uzzah paused like breathless silence at the end of a sigh. Rezon stood in the doorway of his tent, observing the tiny watch-fires upon the walls of the city. Repeated pounding on the archways above the main gate had not yet broken them, but support structures had crumbled. A single, great crack had also appeared above the gate. Now that they were unstable, Rezon suspected the archways would fall on the morrow.
He tore at a chunk of jerky, punishing the salty meat with his teeth. He was pleased by the progress made during the afternoon, but the recent loss of another catapult irritated him. He swallowed hard and gulped from a goblet. At his side, Jael and Gad discussed strategy for breaking the gates. He held up his hand, and their conversation ceased.
“So, you believe the arches will fall, and you will still be able to push the rams into place? How do you propose to move the rubble?”
Jael drew in a big breath. “Yes, they will fall. But not all the rubble will have to be moved. The rams are not very wide. Besides, with the arches down, whatever passageway the Uzzahites built into the wall will be completely exposed. Our own archers should be able to hold the enemy down. You will gain entry to the outer courtyard by nightfall tomorrow.”