Recently I spent time with the British Army in Israel. While there I began to think of the history of that land and the many conflicts that have taken place there. This is my first attempt at fiction, and once again I am grateful for the editing skills of michchick98.
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Rachel could not believe her ears. Herod, the false "King of The Jews" had ordered the massacre of all the boys aged two and younger in Bethlehem. She had heard about the strangers from the East, claiming to be following a star. Probably just Zoroastrian superstition, but Herod had taken it seriously.
Disturbed and terrified that a true Son of David would seize his throne, Herod had asked for help from Rome. The Roman Army swept in to Judea to suppress any possible uprising. Thinking back to the days of Judas Maccabeus, Rachel clutched her sword close to her side. There was no going back now; she knew that the very survival of her race was at stake. She could never forgive Herod for the death of her father and now she heard the Romans had surrounded her home town of Sychar, she feared for her mother.
Rachel was twenty five years old now. Battle hardened and experienced in all aspects of fighting. Six foot three inches tall, with strong muscles making up her eleven stone weight. Her dress was practical rather than modest. A leather top just covered her bulging breasts while a short leather skirt covered her feminine areas. In her strong sandals, sword belt, long black hair and almost dark chocolate brown eyes she was an attractive challenge to any man.
Seven years ago, when she was just eighteen, following the raid on her home that killed her father, she had joined the Sisterhood of Zealots. There had been fifteen of them then, each swearing their undying allegiance to Judea. Following the example of Sampson who got his strength from his hair, they got theirs from their virginity.
Each had sworn to retain their virginity until marriage and they would only marry when Herod was dead and the last of his family had left Judean soil. One by one, her sisters in arms had been killed and now she was the last virgin in the Zealots, and out of respect for her position she had her own cave, a minute's walk from the men's quarters. She had built herself a reputation as a fighter, had been trained by the best the resistance could offer, and was now the leader of her own band of men.
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Titus set up his camp in Sychar. On his long march, his army had left a forest of crosses in its wake as a warning to all who would dare to defy the authority of Rome, or her allies. Now he was looking forward to a victorious home coming in Rome as he suppressed the enemies of his Emperor's friend. But he wanted one prize above all others.
He knew the Zealots had been harassing Herod's forces for several years, and one group in particular on the outskirts of Sychar, led by a woman named Rachel, had been a particular problem. Has anyone seen her?" he asked his Centurion Gaius. "Has anyone seen or heard of this Jewish vixen, Rachel?" He stopped his horse as he waited for an answer.
"She's just a myth Sir," Gaius replied. "A myth put forward by our enemies, a woman of people's imagination, and we can never capture someone who does not exist."
As the words were on his lips, he slumped to the ground, dead. Struck by a rock from a sling. That first rock was a signal for others to start throwing rocks from their slings as soldier after soldier fell to the ground.
"Long live Judea!"
A woman's voice, definitely a woman's voice. Titus just had time to focus on the source before he felt a sharp pain in his side and he fell from his horse. Immediately the soldiers formed "the turtle", placing their shields around their injured commander, as their archers responded. But it was like chasing shadows as the Zealots escaped into the many caves that honeycombed the hills outside Sychar.
That evening, back in his camp, Titus sat as a slave bathed his side. "She has to be caught, taken prisoner, humiliated and made an example of," he barked to his attendants. Anthony, his trusted tribune looked on in disbelief. "I want her captured before the week is out," he continued. "She will bow before the authority of Rome."
"Before the week is out, you will have her head on a silver plate in this very tent," Anthony replied. He stood, went to the tent entrance and looked out . "After we take her down from the cross."
"No, that is no good. I don't want her harmed, I want her captured," Titus said. "It's the only way. The people of Sychar have made her into a heroine, a role model. She claims she gets her strength from her virginity. Her people must see her humiliated and without honor. If her people see her surrender they will follow."
Anthony coughed and raised his eyebrows. He knew how difficult this would be.
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Back in the Zealot camp, Rachel counted the numbers. "There are only twenty nine of us now," she said as she stared into the fire. "Twenty nine! How long can we last? A day? A week? Simon, what do you think we should do? Disperse or stay? Fight or wait?"
Simon looked up from the fire. He had always been a fighter and he wanted to continue. "I think we should make a last stand, confront them and fight until the last of us falls." He looked up and smiled at Rachel. "But before that we should consummate our love. It might be our last chance."
Rachel glared at him. "Yes we were promised to each other, but I am under a solemn virginity vow. No man will touch me until we have removed Herod and defeated the Romans." Simon tried to protest but Rachel held her hand up for silence. "Do you think I don't want to? Of course I want to be fulfilled, but we can't do it. Not now, not ever. We will have each other for eternity in paradise, we'll be together there soon enough."
Simon shook his head. "What if there is no paradise?" he asked. "What if this is all there is? What if we are just food for worms?" Tears were filling his eyes. "I've waited so long to have you, to possess you, to join our bodies together. What would be so terrible if we just had one night together?"
"It would be a betrayal of my vows, God would be angry!" Rachel shouted.
"Oh I can see how much you being a virgin has pleased him so far! With his help we are about to be annihilated!" Simon retorted.
Rachel stood and slapped him round the face. Simon grabbed her and they wrestled. In the close contact, she could feel the excitement in Simon's loins, the bulge that showed his desire and need. For one moment, she was tempted to give in and lead him to her cave.
Perhaps he was right! Maybe there was no God, surely one night of pleasure would not make any difference whatsoever, not now surely. She was about to weaken, to give in, when she reminded herself of her vow. She raised her knee and delivered a telling thrust into Simon's manhood. He yelped like a puppy and limped into the corner.
"Now get some sleep. Tomorrow we need all our wits about us." Looking round at her men she said, "we all need each other."
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The next day Titus was up early, he could never sleep in Judea, too much noise. He was reminded by the pain in his side of his need to get revenge and confront Rachel. He called his close aids together and they decided it was time to take Sychar. Forming his foot soldiers into columns, the signal was given to begin the attack.
The battle raged most of the day, and Titus had to admire the courage of the enemy. But by nightfall Sychar was taken and Titus and his army were victorious. He called his advisors and decided the leading men of the town would be crucified and the others enslaved. The women would be taken for domestic slaves or used as bed slaves for the army.
The children would be his weapon. Titus was a fighting man, he did not and would not willingly murder children and did not intend to do so now. He obeyed his Emperor, but he despised Herod and all he stood for. Yet he could threaten to kill the children unless Rachel surrendered to him personally. She wouldn't know that he would not carry out his threat. She would have heard of the taking of Sychar, now she would also hear of his demands. Demands that she surrender in exchange for the lives of the children.
While the mercenary elements of the Roman army, those Titus considered scum, took their reward in the rape of the women, the children were gathered together and Titus set up a camp in the remains of the town centre and waited.
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"You will never guess what that bastard Titus has done now," Simon said as he burst into Rachel's cave. "He's sacked Sychar and taken the children hostage! Now he's set up a camp there."
"That's not the Roman way." Rachel said. "The scum that make up his army might decide to do this but not Titus. He must have something in mind." She and Simon went to the main cave where she looked round and observed her men. "We must send a scouting party. Reuben, go with Saul and see what is happening and get back before night fall." The two scouts took some food and water and made their way down the hill.
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Titus was relaxing in his chair when his concentration was disturbed. "My Lord Titus, forgive me, but this man just pushed his way through," a centurion said, "he says he has something important to tell you." The centurion pushed the grubby looking slave to the ground.
Titus got up and approached the man. "Well speak!" he barked. "If you have forced your way in here for no reason you'll go to the cross!" The man trembled.
