***
It has been thirty-four days since Holofernes appeared at our gates, and still they have not attempted parlay. Truth be told, they do not need to; our water supply is almost gone, and the eldest and youngest amongst us are beginning to sicken. Every day I have sat with Uzziah and the other Elders on behalf of my Slayer, and every day the town has become more panicked, with no hope of a solution. I am not powerful enough of a magic user to counteract whatever it is that Holofernes has done, and so I keep silent and continue to think.
Today a mob came before the council- men, women, children- crying out that their god was surely punishing them, and they must surrender. That surely it was better to be slaves to the Assyrians than to die in such a terrible way, and demanding that Uzziah open the gates of the city and be done with it. The mothers were particularly fierce, saying no fate could be worse than watching helplessly as their children died, knowing that they might have lived if only Bethulia had bent the knee to Senacherib.
Uzziah, for his part, seems to have aged a lifetime over the past month, and he was no youth to begin with. He managed to calm the crowd somewhat by telling them they must be patient a little longer.
“Five more days, my people, we can survive five more days! Surely the God of gods will take pity on us before that time, and if he has not…” he bent his head sorrowfully, then continued, “If he has not then indeed I swear by His unspoken name that I will do as you have asked, and surrender us to Holofernes.”
***
For my part I returned swifty to my Slayer and told her, word for word, what had been said. I had to make her see sense: we could not afford for her to be captured by the enemy, and we must find some way of making our escape. But as soon as I told her what Uzziah had said about waiting five more days, a strange look settled over her face.
“Ku-Aya, you must bring the Elders to me.”
This brought me up short, for she rarely summoned people outside her own household.
“The Elders? Why?”
“I would have words with them. Bring them, Ku-Aya.”
Her tone was much sharper than she would normally use, so much so that I didn’t think so much as merely responded, making my way back to the town meeting place, and gathering up the Elders. They were as surprised to receive the summons as I was to deliver it, and came along meekly as lambs. When we returned my Slayer was as I had left her, sitting upright before the house’s altar, dressed in the black of her mourning, incense wreathing her head. But there was a fierceness about her presence that was unsettling. I looked at her with fresh eyes, trying to imagine not having seen her for the past three years, and realized just how beautiful she must appear to these men, sackcloth or no. The Elders bowed deeply to her, and I understood the impulse.
“Listen to me, leaders of men,” she said, and her voice had a ringing command to it I had never before noticed. “You have done a terrible thing. You have sworn an oath that sets the God of gods to a timeline you have devised, rather than being obedient to the one He has set for us. You must be fools, indeed, to put the God of gods to the test! You, who, for all your age and experience, cannot understand the hearts and minds of mortal men and women- how could you begin to understand the plans and purposes of He who created us? Why would you provoke His anger by pretending to try?”
***
“He has the power to protect us for as long as He’d like, even if it is not His will to deliver us within the next five- or five hundred- days. We are the gate holding the wretched Assyrian army back from the entire kingdom of Judea, we keep our people from being slaughtered and enslaved, we are being tested by the God of gods even as He tested our ancestors, as He tested Avraham, Yishaq, and Yaakov. He used those trials to search their hearts, even as He uses these trials to search ours. And with your declaration of a timeline you are showing Him faithless hearts, cowardly hearts!”
I thought for certain the Elders would rebuke her for such harsh words, but instead they hung their heads to a man, and admitted she was right. And then they begged her to pray on their behalf! To beg their God of gods to send rain to refill their wells. After all, they said,she was so devout, so perfect in her adherence to the Law, that surely their god would listen to her. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing at this further attempt to shift their responsibility, but my Slayer… she drummed her fingers on her knee, and then said,
“I will act as I see fit, as the God of gods guides me, and before the five days are out the God of gods will make use of me to deliver us. But you must question me on my actions- I will not reveal them to you until they are done. Do you understand?”
They did, although I did not. They bowed to her repeatedly as they left, saying that surely their god would show her way, and that neither they nor anyone else in the town would make any move to interfere in her actions.
Once they were gone from the house entirely, I turned to my Slayer and raised an eyebrow.
“And just what is it, precisely, that you plan to do?”
Her face was grim, as she began to remove her clothing.
“We have proven we cannot get into the enemy’s camp by stealth,” she said. “So we must go in with boldness. Now send all the other servants away, Ku-Aya, and then return to help me with my hair.”
***
I did as she bade me, still trying to decipher her strange words. We spent the next several hours in the bathing chambers, washing and oiling and gilding her hair and body, much as had been done for her wedding day. She opened the great treasure chests and brought out necklaces, rings, bracelets, and earrings, all of gold, and put them on with as much ceremony as a man would his armor. And then she had me bring her fine silks out of storage, rich and colorful in the golden light of the afternoon. Her body had blossomed over the past three years, and the robes clung in a way that was indecent by Judaean standards, but she covered them all with a heavy black cloak.
“You cannot fight in any of this,” I remarked.
“Not in the way you mean,” she smiled, and painted her eyes with kohl. “But it is as a woman, not a warrior, that I will be welcomed by the enemy, and it is as a woman I will break their pride.”
“This is not how a Slayer fights,” I said, but with no real conviction.
“A Slayer fights how a Slayer must,” she replied, gazing into the polished bronze of her mirror. “A Slayer fights with the weapons she has been given. And the God of gods has given me this face, and this body, and this tongue. And I will use them.”
***
The sun was setting as we approached the main gate. The people of Bethulia watched us as we passed- watched her, in her regal glory- and whispered to one another. We carried no weapons with us, which had me on edge, but my Slayer had pointed out- rightly- that to do so would be a death-sentence. What we did carry- rather, what I carried, since I am the servant, was provisions. Judith had demanded the finest of cakes and wines that might be hidden away in the town, and they were delivered to her by servants in speechless awe of her beauty. They were now tucked safely in a pack strapped to my back. In my hand was a lantern burning with a clear white light, to make absolutely certain we would be seen by the enemy.
The people continued to watch even after the gates were shut behind us, even as we walked into the deepening night. The lantern’s flame danced as I picked my way carefully down the mountain trail, causing a greater dance of shadows around us. The darkness was complete by the time we reached the edge of the valley, and we no sooner stepped into it then we were stopped by sentries who held a spear to my throat and snarled in terribly accented Judaean:
“You! Old woman! What do you think you’re about? And you! Dark one! Come into the light where we can see you!”
Old woman, indeed. My voice shook with an odd combination of indignation and fear, but I managed to answer, “We come- my mistress comes seeking sanctuary!” And I held the lamp higher as my Slayer stepped forward, to better light her face.
“Oh-” the spear at my throat dipped, and I watched the two young men blink as though dazzled by sun on water.
She said nothing, but held them with her level gaze, dark eyes glittering in the lamplight
“She is a great lady of the Judaeans,” I said, “From the city of Bethulia. She did not care to remain in a place that will soon be enslaved.”
“I have information for Holofernes,” she spoke at last, pitching her voice higher than it’s normal range, making her sound younger, more vulnerable. “Information that could help him capture the city without any further loss of life.”
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