Assyrian Siege on Jerusalem

Namhu ran a long-fingered hand through his short black hair.  He was walking through the market of his homeland, Assyria.  A war-oriented city-state, it was part of Mesopotamia, constantly fighting battles with its neighbors.  Namhu stalked around people, bright green eyes flicking from stand to stand.  He saw meat, something that most people couldn’t afford; mostly wheat and barley; clay pots that were reddish-brown; and many weapons made from bronze.  They dully reflected the bright sun, making them glow with a gold-brown light.  Namhu stopped to look at the swords, spears, and arrows.  He knew he was very clumsy with most weapons, but he could shoot an arrow fairly straight.  He shook his head and walked past, trying not to get sidetracked.  His mother had sent him to buy barley, and so he made his way over to the nearest stall selling the stuff.

He asked for a gur-cube of barley, which was about twice the size of an average person’s head, and put it in the big clay pot his mother had given him.  He thanked the old woman at the stall, and stopped at the weapons stand when he was leaving.  He had brought some spending money for himself, and his old bow had broken recently.  He picked up a wooden arc and pulled the piece of sinew back.  It was too loose.  He picked up another one, and pulled back the string.  It did well, but the bow itself was too small.   He finally decided on a plain wooden frame about the length of his leg, which was very lightweight.  It came with 20 bronze-tipped arrows and a small quiver.  All of this cost him two or three months’ worth of his money, which he earned by helping on farms or setting up stands at market.  Thanking the man at the stand, he walked backwards and nearly tripped over a short, duck-like man who had stopped behind him.  As Namhu turned around, he noticed that this man, who was leaned against a stall with a jug of beer in his hand, wore the clothes of a messenger.  He was talking and laughing with others, but when he saw Namhu, he looked up and straightened, and almost tripped over his own feet.

“Oh!  Hello, boy.  I- Assyria is going to war.”

Namhu stared.

The man continued, “Yeah, I thought you might know that”, he laughed.  “You will need to bring your weapon, and whatever else you want.”

“’Where are we going?” managed Namhu in a trembling voice.

“You will meet here tomorrow at daybreak, and from here you will march to Jerusalem, about a two weeks’ journey.”

With that, he turned and continued talking to the locals.  Sighing, Namhu walked through the market, wanting to get home and talk with his younger brother, sisters, and parents.  He had turned sixteen about three months previously, and this was going to be his first war.  As he thought, Namhu made his way out of the main streets, to near where his family lived.  Once he arrived at his home, he hurried along the path, and into his family’s garden.  The heads of war prisoners hung in the trees, staring emptily at any soul who came in.  Their yellowing skin made their features look grotesque and sunken, their teeth were mostly missing.  They were a sign of the strength in the family, and with the number that his father had collected over the years, Namhu could tell that no thief would bother them.  As he approached the house, he could hear talking and cooking from the other side of the mud-brick walls.  He made his way to the wooden door, and opening it, was greeted by the scent of a vegetable stew cooking.  His family all turned and greeted him, and his brother, Ubarum, and his father walked towards him.  Ubarum’s large brown eyes were widened with excitement, his coppery hair tangled and messy.  Namhu’s father walked like a bear, his big beard and potbelly showing.  As the two made their way over, Namhu deposited the pot of barley onto the nearest table and revealed the bow.  His brother looked very impresses, and his father looked very proud.

“That is a very nice bow, son.” said Namhu’s father in his booming voice, “Was it a good bargain?”

Ubarum, who was eight and the youngest in the family, looked awe struck.

“Can I try it out?”

“Maybe later”, replied Namhu, smiling at his younger brother’s excitement, “but right now we should eat dinner.”

At the dinner table, Namhu’s father naturally sat at the head.  To his left sat his wife, Namhu’s mother, dark brown hair gleaming, and Elamassi, the eldest daughter at fourteen.  To his right sat Namhu, being the eldest child, and Alittum, the younger daughter who was ten.  At the other end of the table sat Ubarum, who was the youngest of them all.  They all had dark brown eyes, which contrasted very much with Namhu’s green eyes.  Nobody knew where he had gotten them from.  At the dinner table, Namhu’s mother was the first to ask about the market.

“So, how did it go, Namhu?  I saw your new bow, it is very beautiful.  Are you going to practice with it soon?”

Well,” said Namhu,” I was about to mention it.  I met with a messenger, who said that we are going to go to war with Jerusalem.  I wish to try it before I leave tomorrow.  I need to be gone by daybreak.”

There was a silence, and then the whole family erupted into jumbled speech.

“I can’t believe they are doing this now”

“Well, we are all very proud of you”

“You can’t leave, you might get hurt!”

“Can I join you in practice?”

“I will help you pack your things.”

“Father, what will I need to take with me?”, asked Namhu.

“Well”, he replied, “You will definitely need that bow, and you might want to take a sleeping mat, as they have you sleep on the floor.  Take some nuts too, for you may get very hungry.  I have extra arrows that I lost the bow to, and you should take your old ones too.”

“Elamassi, Alittum, will you help me gather these things?” asked Namhu of his sisters.

“Of course!”, exclaimed Elamassi.

Alittum pouted.  “You shouldn’t have to go.  It isn’t fair.”

“Mother, will you prepare some food for tomorrow?”

“Yes, and I will start some tea for you.”

“Father, Ubarum, will you come practice shooting with me?”

“Ooh!  I’ll come with you!” said Ubarum excitedly.

The rest of dinner talk was mostly about preparations for the following day, Elamassi and Alittum talked about the new recipes they had learned, and Ubarum spoke about seeing a rabbit near their house.  The family talked about Jerusalem, and about how Assyria would gain control of them quickly.

Eventually Ubarum, Namhu, and their father went outside, the girls ran off to get supplies, and Namhu’s mother went to go prepare food.  As they trudged outside, weapons slung on their shoulders, the “men” of the family talked about the upcoming war and about once Namhu came back.  Once they reached the outskirts of their near-forest property, Namhu’s father told him to shoot “the tree over there”.  Namhu tried a few times, and finally got used to the bow.  He shot straight after that, and even tried with miscellaneous arrows.  His father was chopping firewood behind him, and Ubarum was watching Namhu while supposedly helping his father.  After practice, they headed back inside and Namhu found a pile of things for him to put in his sack and take.  They sack was embroidered with his name in Cuneiform, from when he was little.  Cuneiform was the language of the Mesopotamians, and was made up of many triangles.  He lay down on his sleeping pallet and drifted off into a nervous slumber.

Namhu awoke to his father shaking his shoulders.  It was still dark out.

“You must leave now, take your things.  Goodbye”, said Namhu’s father.

Without thinking Namhu said goodbye, took his things, and walked out of the door.  He headed straight for the marketplace, and once he had arrived, Namhu saw that there were many other boys and men there.  Because his father had already served, had a family, and was getting old, he didn’t have to go, but Namhu did.  He joined the crowd forming and found himself getting a bit cold.  He stood in place, and soon people started bumping into one another.  He was jostled around, and ended up behind one of his friends, named Abiditan.  He was very tall, kind, and although he came across as very strong and angry, he was a very calm person.  He had slightly longer black hair than Namhu, and the same brown eyes that where common in Assyria.  They talked for a while, and Namhu was informed that his hair was sticking up at odd angles.  He tried flattening it, but eventually let it be.  When the group of men started moving, they trudged along.  By midday, they were moving very fast, but Namhu was hardly breaking a sweat.  He was very good at running, but when it came to fighting, especially hand-to-hand, he was very clumsy and often dropped his weapons.  The big crowd trudged along, and they were soon quite friendly with each other.  After a while of walking, the group settled down for their first meal.  There were people with carts who passed around barley cakes and dates, which were surprisingly filling, at least to Namhu.  While they sat and ate, small groups started to form.  Namhu and Abiditan were alone, until a boy about their age joined them.  He had a small frame and was shorter than most of the men there, and his hair looked sloppily cut.  He had warm brown eyes, and a mole above the corner of his lips.  He wore loose linen around his small shoulders, and baggy pants.  He sat down, not gruffly like everybody else, but slowly and carefully.  He smiled and held out his hand, which was full of dates.

“I am not very hungry, so, you can have these”, he said.

Abiditan raised an eyebrow.  “Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes.  I don’t eat much.  Here,” said the boy, extending his hand further.

Abiditan took the dates and ate them very quickly, so it was obvious that he was very hungry, and was enjoying the dates.

“Fankoo,” he said through a mouth full of the fruit.

“You’re welcome,” the boy smiled again.

“What is your name?” asked Namhu.

“It is…” the boy delayed himself, “Appanili”, he said, looking content.  After that, Appanili, Namhu, and Abiditan walked together for most of the time.  They walked for many hours, and soon Namhu was carrying the packs of both of them, as he was the one who was the least tired.  They chatted about their families, their hobbies, and about what Jerusalem would be like.  By the time they made it to their camp for the night, even Namhu was exhausted.  After a filling dinner, they lay down their sleeping pallets near the edge of the clearing, and all fell asleep very quickly.  Namhu dreamed that he was at home, eating vegetable stew and fixing his broken bow.

In the morning, the men gathered their things and continued their hike.  They traveled like this for about two weeks, sleeping at night, walking during the day, and eating meals at amazing rates.  Finally, the day came and they arrived at the city of Jerusalem.  Namhu, Appanili, and Abiditan made sure to stick together, and the whole group joined up with other small crowds near the city.  Eventually, so many men from so many towns had gathered, that it became a real Assyrian army.  Men gathered and sharpened their weapons, ate snacks that they had saved, and got ready for battle.

Once the battle had begun, it was total chaos.  Luckily, Namhu had his two very close friends, and he felt a little bit more at ease.  They were positioned closer to the front lines than they had wanted, and while Namhu was shooting arrows in all directions, Abiditan was skillfully using his sword.  Appanili looked dazed and confused, but pulled out some daggers and joined the battle.  After a while, Namhu started to notice all of the blood on the ground.  The Assyrians were now pillaging the whole city, fanning out, and killing many civilians as they went.  Namhu was still battling, this time shooting more close-ranged.  As he aimed one of his arrows at a man from the city they were attacking, the man turned around and his eyes widened.

“Those- those eyes…”, he muttered, looking straight at Namhu.  “I…”

Suddenly, Namhu felt a stabbing pain near the bottom of his back.  He doubled over coughed, and found blood coming out of his mouth his vision was blurring, and the last thing he saw was Appanili running over with Abiditan trailing behind.  Then, his vision went black.

At the dinner table back in Assyria, Namhu’s mother was bringing food to her mouth when suddenly the hairs on the back of her neck stood up.  Her spine tingled.  She ignored it, and continued eating.

Namhu opened his eyes weakly.  He could hear the fighting in the distance, but all he could see were trees and a very determined Appanili sitting in front of him.  Abiditan was making sure nobody could see them.  Appanili was wringing water out of a linen cloth, and he flicked his eyes over to Namhu.  Namhu coughed, and soon the ground underneath him had blood on it.  He tried to sit up, but a searing pain in his back made him gasp for air.

“Lie back down, and don’t move”, snapped Appanili, “I can help you, but only if you listen to me.”

Utterly confused at how Appanili knew all of this healing, Namhu sat down.  Abiditan knelt beside him.

“Are you feeling better?”

“Not really”, replied Namhu with a weak laugh, “you should keep patrolling.  We would be doomed if some soldier found us back here.”

Abiditan nodded and stood, pacing and watching for anybody.

Namhu now watched Appanili wring the towel, muttering under his breath.  Finally, he seemed satisfied and brought the thing over, pressing it to Namhu’s back.  Namhu gasped in pain, but did not try to do anything to get away.  Appanili looked extremely concentrated, and a worry crease formed between his eyebrows.  There was something about how he knew all of this healing and -

“You’re a woman, aren’t you”, Namhu blurted out.

Appanili blushed and muttered something about finally noticing with their brains.

“What is your real name, then?” asked Namhu, surprisingly unfazed by this discovery.  He felt a throbbing at his back.

“My real name is Arwi-a,” she pressed down hard on the wound, making Namhu gasp in pain again, “I came to battle for my father, who is growing old and would not survive very long here.  They wanted him to join, but I made sure he wouldn’t.”  Arwi-a smiled and her eyes watched the ground.

Namhu felt some of the pain ease, but his vision was going blurry.  “Arwi-a, I don’t feel very good,” he whispered, the trees coming in and out of focus.  He looked up at her and saw the worry crease that had been ebbing away return, and Arwi-a picked up a weapon dripping with blood.

“Oh.  No, no, it can’t…  I’m sorry, Namhu, I think this blade was poisoned.”  Arwi-a put her head in her hands and started crying, “I...” she hiccupped, “I am so sorry.”

This time, Namhu’s mother gasped.  She had felt a shock, almost painful, travel up to her neck from the base of her back.  Then, she somehow knew that Namhu wouldn’t be coming back home.

Namhu coughed again.  This time, no blood came, but Namhu’s thoughts were clouding.  The bloodstains on the ground spiraled in and out of focus, and Namhu dropped his head on the dirt.  He didn’t feel or hear anything, and as a wave of fatigue washed over him, the trees, sky, and everything around him went black.

 “Let’s see”, muttered Christopher Henderson.  This was his first mission as a professional archeologist, and he had his own team and everything.  It was a hot day in the year 2000, and Christopher was very excited.  He was now holding a backbone, which had a cut in it.  As he dug, he found the rest of the skeleton.  He noticed that it seemed to belong to a young man, maybe around sixteen or seventeen.  He found traces of blood, and because this site was so near to the ancient city of Jerusalem, he guessed that this boy was Assyrian and had fought in the siege that had taken place.  He found some broken arrow shafts, and after doing a quick test, Christopher found that the cut had some traces of poison on it.  He also found a knapsack that had stitches that, in Cuneiform, read “Namhu”.