This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.
by Andy Oram, 2025
“I noticed Judith today as I was coming back from picking up a new donkey,” said Charmis to Uzziah while descending the dusty path to the town center. “I quickly looked away so I wouldn’t be tempted by evil impulses, because three years after her husband died, she’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
“She never seemed to feel the need to remarry,” remarked Uzziah, who had been appointed mayor of the town. “Doing quite well with the farm, isn’t she?”
The two men passed the clay-patched huts of the town and entered the tavern, the main spot for gathering besides the market square and the synagogue.
“Yes, she always worked her farm together with Manasseh before he passed away,” answered Charmis. “It’s rich with crops and cattle. She keeps to herself, though; usually sends servants to town for supplies. A shame for such a lovely woman.”
“Sounds like the kind of visitor you need to enliven this tavern!” snorted an out-of-towner at the next table, who was garbed in a manner common to people far to the East and was gambling boisterously with some inebriated men.
“Please keep your filthy ideas to yourself,” said Charmis. “We are a decent people.”
“Aye, you can be sure I’ll be heading out as soon as I can to where there’s better entertainment than this hick town.”
One of his companions interjected, “That four wasn’t a smart play, Perses,” while placing a tile on the table.
“Even if I follow it up with this one?” Perses answered, triumphantly tossing down another tile and sweeping up the coins in the middle of the table. He added the coins to an ample purse. “But before I take off, I plan to buy up everything in town that I can carry down that damned gorge—there’s a big need back East.”
“Isn’t that a fertile region?” asked another companion, a local cobbler. “Not known for having shortages of goods, Perses.”
“Some wacko has assembled an army and is going around grabbing up provisions,” answered Perses. “About three thousand soldiers, when I left. More were joining.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” said the cobbler. “How far away is this ragtag army?”
“Oh, nowhere near you, take it easy. The guy’s in Assyria, a good two thousand leagues away.”
Days passed. The rainy season kept people indoors a while. But on one market day, Uzziah overheard vendors and customers chatting about the army that had been mentioned weeks before in the tavern. Apparently this army had grown to ten thousand, and was circulating around in the East recruiting more men.
He decided to call a council of elders following the Sabbath. “What is this army we keep hearing about?” he asked as they crouched in the reception room of his house.
Chabris, a judge, piped up: “An emissary from Parthia said they’ve been wandering around there, a force of some twenty-six thousand. They’ve conquered some towns, and been unusually brutal about it—lots of deaths. Now most towns seem to join them without a fight.”
“That’s a pretty worrisome trend,” Uzziah said. “What if they come here?”
“Well, we’re pretty far off. I don’t know whether anyone pays us much attention these days.”
“But our town is the entry point to Judah,” Uzziah pointed out. “And Judah is on the way to Egypt—a tempting target.”
In fact, Betulia had a unique geographic position. It occupied the Western side of a mountain range, and therefore caught the fertile rains, leaving desert on the Eastern side. The mountains were nearly unscalable. A narrow chasm, wide enough for only two men, climbed from the desert into the town. Uzziah felt safe. He ended the meeting and asked Charmis whether his new donkey lived up to his expections.
Over the next few weeks, the people of Judah learned more about the army, which boasted of forty-five thousand troops. It was led by an Assyrian general named Holofernes. Entire nations had thrown their lot in with him and sent them their finest young men. Linen, wool, cattle, iron, wood—all the material an army needed seemed to flow its way with ease. Uzziah wondered how much money Perses, the loutish trader from the tavern, was raking in.
They learned that the army was headed their way.
One sultry morning, an emissary from Jerusalem entered Uzziah’s courtyard. “Greetings, mayor!” said the man. “I came from the high priest Joakim to discuss Holofernes’s army.”
Together they made plans to store food and water, to train all able-bodied men in defense, and to plant spies along the route to the single, narrow pass that led through the mountain to the East. “You’re really our only line of defense,” said the emissary. “It’s your town—you and your cliff, luckily—against an army of ninety-four thousand.”
“That many?” exclaimed Uzziah.
All the emissary said was, “The nations of the world have joined with them, ” and gravely he left for Jerusalem.
And one morning, the army was there.
Holofernes’s troops spread themselves out in the desert behind the mountain, swarming like locusts but leaving visible patterns. Ad hoc streets snaked through hundreds of camps, which resounded with the sounds of hammers clanging on anvils and looms churning out the uniforms for thousands of men. The clamor could be heard throughout Betulia, echoing through the hot, dead air and instilling terror among all the inhabitants. Its sentries surveyed the army from the top of the mountain, and reported to the elders the final extent of Holofernes’s troups: one hundred and seventy thousand infantry and twelve thousand cavalry.
The people could not resist gathering on the crest of the mountain, watching the camp take shape with incredible rapidity. Noticing their presence, a soldier with an ornate breastplate and helmet separated himself from the crowds and approached the mountain.
“I am an emissary of the Assyrians!” called out the soldier. “The King of Assyria says: make a blessing with me and come out to me. That way, men will continue to eat from their vines and drink from their cisterns.”
“We trust in our God,” answered the elders.
“Did the gods of other nations save them from the hand of the King of Assyria?” challenged the emissary. “Where were the gods of Hamat and Arpad? Where were the gods of Sepharvaim, Hena, and Ivvah? Who among all the gods of the nations saved their nations from my hand, that the god you call upon will save Jerusalem?”
And the people were silent and said not a word in reply.
The next day, the water from springs ceased. The usual flow of traders dried up as well. Betulia was officially under siege.
A few mornings later, sentries noticed a body lying on its side at the bottom of the chasm, stirring slightly. They rescued an Ammonite soldier, beaten badly and tied up with rope. Uzziah met them back in the town and interrogated the soldier, who identified himself as a spy named Achior.
“Holofernes is incensed that you refused his offer to dissolve the nation of Judah and join him. He called together the spies from neighboring countries to find out more about Judah, and I told him that your god did, indeed, protect you.
“That made him more angry. You can see what he did to me. He smirked that I should take sanctuary with the Jews until he was ready to invade and put us all to the sword.”
A large crowd had gathered around, arguing so heatedly they made it hard for each other to hear. Disputes arose in all corners of the square. Nobody was paying attention to anyone else. Turbans tilted and twisted maniacally as the convocation jabbered.
Some of the men wanted to negotiate with Holofernes, some to surrender right away, some to seek escape routes, and some to wait a few more days until their food and water were exhausted. Amid the interminable chaos a distraught Uzziah, alternately nodding and shaking his head, waved his hands to quiet the crowd. Suddenly a fresh voice spoke up—the voice of a woman.
“My brothers, do not anger or impose conditions on God. Instead, let our steadfastness set an example for Jews all over the land. The lives, the laws, and the religion of Judah depend on what we do today, here in Betulia.”
Everyone turned to Judith, who had quietly entered the square veiled and dressed in a dull gray cloak. She gazed solumnly about the crowd. “Let’s give thanks to God for putting us to this test,” she finished.
Most of the men were astonished, but the whole town knew Judith. They remained silent out of respect.
“Judith, we all recognize your wisdom,” Uzziah announced. “But we have only four days of water left, and few supplies are available from the rest of the country. If you are truly devout and want to help, go home, please, and pray for rain.”
“I have bigger plans, Uzziah. Four days left—good, do nothing rash during that time.”
“It would help us remain patient if you offered a plan, Judith.” A fresh round of complaints passed through the crowd.
“I will do what no man can do, and save Betulia,” answered Judith with a stern fortitude. “I am going to talk to Holofernes.”
“Judith, don’t take that risk!” cried Achior. “You see my wounds; you know what Holofernes does.”
“He won’t turn away a woman like me.” And finally Judith let loose her glorious smile.
The first bird calls that greeted the dawn were tentative, as if questioning whether the sun would rise that day. The cliff shielding Betulia was in darkness as the sentries opposite saw two figures emerge from the obscurity.
The first sentry to make out that the two were human called out to Sargon, whose Aramaic was the best among them. Sargon in turn enjoined the intruders to come close and justify themselves.
They were stunned then to see one of the travelers drop her scarf and reveal the glamorous brown tresses of a mature woman. The other figure, apparantly also female, kept her eyes down and her hair covered.
“Thank you, spendid soldiers, for receiving us!” said the prepossessing woman. She had a dark mass of hair, cheeks that seemed radiant with life, glowing hazel eyes, and a resplendent forehead. She wore a simple but elegant tunic of brown wool, buttressed against the night’s cold by a shawl decorated with red and brown patterns. “We have information about Judah for Holofernes. If one of you could escort us to him immediately, I promise he’ll appreciate it.”
Sargon took his time and searched their packs, turning up several changes of clothing, anklets, bracelets, rings, earrings, and other jewelry, sacks of bread, cheese, and fruit, and several flasks that he could determine to hold wine by their smell. The women assented to the search silently, an odd smile suggesting a detached beneficence on the face of the uncloaked one who had spoken.
Finally, Sargon gestured toward one of the soldiers to take his place on sentry duty, and himself conveyed the two travelers into the camp. They passed by the various facilities that an army relegates to its edge: dank latrines, the dump where scurrying creatures salvaged their own provisions from the camp’s jetsam, and industries of all types where the clothing, tools, and weapons of the troops are forged. The voices of sparrows, bulbuls, and hoopoes were joined by the lowing of larger animals in the camp as the sun rose. No breeze disturbed the stagnant air.
The sentry and his charges passed several encampments, each representing a different nationality, each plunged in silence with a guard beside a small campfire, scrutinizing the entourage sullenly.
A fine commotion kicked up when they arrived at a festooned tent guarded by a pack of soldiers. A gauzy light now covered the camp. An officer halted the visitors and stepped toward the entrance of the tent to notify its occupant, but that dignitary had heard the activity outside and was already emerging. His firm cheeks framed a supple mouth and proud nose; his large eyes were riveted on the visitors. He set himself back jauntily on one heel as he observed, “Refugees from the ill-fortuned city on the hill? We’re delighted to have you join our camp.”
“Holofernes!” Judith greeted him gaily. “We’ve heard all about you in Judah, good general.”
“So my name at least has entered your country, even while its owner is not welcome. Whom do I have the pleasure of hosting here?”
Judith introduced herself and her maidservant. “I’ll be direct with you, Holofernes, because your brilliance as a general and as a leader are clear to all.
“Essentially, Betulia will fall soon. As long as its people obey our God, we are protected. But in four days we’ll run out of permitted foods, and the inhabitants will start to consume animals and grains that are forbidden to Jews. They think it will preserve their lives, but as a violation of our God’s will, in fact it will render them vulnerable to your attack.”
“Four days, eh?”
“Yes—If you merely wait four days, I assure you that your army can take the town with barely a scratch and then proceed to conquer all Judah, for everywhere in our country the people are desperate. We’ve heard that they are eating food set aside for priests, along with forbidden animals, but Betulia has not given in to that sin yet.”
Judith had deliberately let loose this prediction while the crowd was still gathered, so that her recommendation would circulate through the camp. Holofernes decided on suppressing further publicity. He opened the flap to his tent with the words, “Please consult with me inside, dear lady.” He also beckoned to the soldier who had stopped them at the tent and who had been closely shadowing Holofernes.
Judith could see in Holofernes a mouth gripped by a keen concentration; his cheeks pulsed as he ruminated on the meaning of her words. His formidable jaw was lightly cloaked in a beard while his brows jutted out over a face fraught with intellect. Not having donned armor yet, he was clothed in a rough loincloth and tunic of natural brown color, along with heavy sandals woven around his calves. Not a handsome man, she thought, but one built to command.
The tent was spacious. Parchments and quills were arranged on a table, where Holofernes pulled up two stools. The maidservant took a place on the floor. The attending officer, dauntingly attired with a sword, a thick tunic for armor, and leather straps around his knuckles, stood behind Holofernes’s stool. A bed sat in a corner, and a small table with food and water. “Ladies, would you like to eat?” gestured Holofernes.
“Ah, Holofernes, you haven’t grasped the point I’ve been making,” laughed Judith. “Can I as a Jew eat foreign food? I still keep the law.”
“What good does the law do you out here, dear Judith?”
“Forgive me, general, but let me offer you a brief lesson about our people and our God. We were enjoined to follow many laws when we occupied our land. If people adopt sinful ways, we’re first warned by prophets to return to God. If we spurn this advice, God sends a powerful enemy to destroy the country—just what you will do in four days.”
“Interesting. We heard of that doctrine from one of your neighbors, lady.”
“For shame, Holofernes. How you rewarded him for his intelligences! But there’s a key element that remains for you to know about. A remnant of the people who have preserved God’s way and upheld the good are saved. We move to enemy lands, thrive, rebuild our people, and eventually return home. Thus God’s message is preserved forever in all eras and all epochs.”
“I take it that you are one of those faithful.”
“Yes—and I expect that a few more will come out of Judah after you do the work you are bound to do. I am happy to be your guest and your advisor, Holofernes. But my maidservant and I must remain righteous in God’s eyes. We eat our own food and drink our own wine. We will exit the camp each night to pray.”
Holofernes turned to the officer who had been standing stiffly behind his stool, and said, “Bagoas, we should look for the advantage this excellent lady tells us about.”
Then he turned his piercing eyes back to Judith. “Judith, please follow through on your advice and help our spies verify your prediction. I will sit you down with the watchers who climb the hills and surveil the behavior of your townspeople. Be so good as to tell them what to check for, so they know when the laws of your God have been broken and the people are ready to be conquered.”
“Gladly, my general.”
Holofernes then pulled himself back, cocking his prominent head and regarding Judith as if trying to see the soul behind the face. “Now why is this religion so important to you, lady? If the bulk of your countrymen throw the laws overboard, what makes you stand alone?”
Judith’s mouth rose in a tiny, capricious smile. “I see hundreds of thousands of men out in your camp, Holofernes, with eyes glued on fortune, booty, glory—the things of this world. All that is meaningless to those of us who follow the living God.”
Holofernes shook his head with a frown. “No sane person could grant so much importance to a god. What do we know of gods?”
“Our God protects us, Holofernes—our lands, our morals, our way of life.”
“And what good are those? There’s an exciting world out here, as you have sagely noted. I’d wager that our morals and way of life are just as good as the laws of your God.”
“I will challenge that,” said Judith through narrowed eyes. “I will tell you of the Jews’ morals while I am here.”
“And I will tell you of ours!” Holofernes rustled in his stool. “Let me start by inviting you to come see me address my troops this morning. I talk to them every day about our mission, so my speech today can serve as its introduction to you.”
They were both smiling now. Judith’s smile, she hoped, demonstrated a trusting, open-hearted welcome. Holofernes’s smile may have reflected many things: smugness, a male’s appraisal of a woman’s beauty, the appreciation of a man who knows he is appreciated, or a readiness for verbal combat. It did not matter: they had made and taken up a wager.
Bagoas wanted to escort Judith and her maidservant to one of the women’s quarters that had been conveniently thrown together near the camps of the various armies. But Judith persuaded Holofernes to arrange a small tent at the Western side of the camp. She explained to him that she and her maidservant had to pray each night and could not do so in the hurly-burly of the camp. Sargon would stay outside the tent to guard their safety, and would accompany them to Holofernes’s tent each day.
As the camp awoke later that morning, soldiers streamed to a central clearing where Holofernes held his daily briefing. Everyone seemed to be pointing at the two women. Judith felt confident that her daybreak statements had circulated.
“Fellow soldiers!” shouted Holofernes from the platform of a wagon that was set up as an informal podium. “Let me introduce two refugees from the obstinate city that we’ll attack soon.” There were catcalls and jeers. Holofernes waited for the voices to subside, then summarized the plan that Judith had presented and that he had accepted, and insisted that she and her maidservant be treated with honor.
“Old prejudices have no places in this new era. No one must denigrate people of a different background or language. In every town, people will direct their efforts toward creating more of the things that we can all enjoy.
“Now I have to remind you all of the goals of our campaign, which I hope that our guests from the enemy city will come to embrace.
“We know now that our world is too large and too fertile to remain divided among tribes and peoples. We can all enjoy prosperity, with trade in a cornucopia of riches from the farthest corners of the continent. We can have peace, because we will all share in the raw materials that the land produces and the ingenious appliances that human ingenuity can fashion.
“Hundreds of cities have joined our teaming empire. We are the strongest force that the Earth has ever witnessed.
“Someday it will seem absurd that there were ever thousands of tinpot kings fighting over riverbanks or copses, and thousands of tiny provinces turned in on themselves. No one will doubt the wisdom of combining our knowledge and our wealth—the minerals, the woods and reeds, the spices, the medicines—in creating better lives for all.”
There was a great deal of murmuring and commotion during this speech, because the soldiers were a reluctant audience and had heard his exhortations many times before. But Judith stood thoughtfully. The speech was a glimpse into a mystery, a small hole leading to unexcavated caverns.
A man in brightly colored clothes, which contrasted noticeably with the dull uniforms of the soldiers, was regarding her from the side. “Lady,” he said brusquely, “You don’t seem to belong here.”
“I am a guest of Holofernes,” she said without looking back at him.
The man bowed. “And my name is Perses. I’m a trader who passes through Judah a lot, and I could lay fifty shekels from your clothing and accent that you’re from Betulia.”
Judith looked at him now, intrigued. “You trade with this army?”
“About the same as every merchant, from Nubia to Macedonia and the Indus valley.”
“And you come to Betulia?”
“Yes, as it’s the entrance to the rest of Judah. And when I’m there I sometimes hear of a widow with a large farm whose beauty outshines even her wealth and piety. I don’t expect that two such people match that description, Judith.” He bowed again. “I hope to hear your opinion of the general’s speech.”
“I will be talking to him later today; come join us at his tent.”
After the crowd dispersed, she did not return immediately to her own tent. She led her maidservant and Sargon in large perambulations from one part of the camp to another, head held high, enjoying the gazes of the soldiers. She recognized peoples from many nearby countries, as well as people whose costumes, speech, and manners were completely novel. Sargon stopped frequently to chat with the various camps, showing himself to be conversant with the language of each nation.
“Whatever kind of life Holofernes is proselytizing for,” she muttered to her maidservant, “He attracts an extraordinary collection of believers.”
That afternoon, Sargon brought Judith and her maidservant to Holofernes’s tent. Perses, who had been loitering outside it, was invited in as well. Holofernes and Judith took the chairs, while Perses, Sargon, Bagoas, and the maidservant arranged themselves on pillows strewn across the ground.
“We have four days of nothing but idleness ahead of us, it seems,” Holofernes opened the conversation. “This is a perfect time to get to know each other, Judith. In our camp you can see the dawning of an enlightenment—a world much bigger than Judah.”
“Why should that bigger world come to ruin us?”
“Not to ruin!” Holofernes’s face lit up like an inspired youth. “To enrich, to expand, to show new horizons!”
Then he turned his gaze to her with a bit of naughty amusement. “Why are we discussing this?” he continued, “I thought you had renounced your country. Why do you still worry about their fate?”
“I can still nurture a fellow feeling for the people with whom I built up a lifetime association. Or is that also obsolete in the new order you’re creating?”
“Feelings should never be ignored, but sometimes practical considerations take precedence,” Holofernes answered, turning serious again.
“Our understanding has come slowly, but irresistibly,” he went on. “The new vision started in certain large cities, where populations had grown larger and more varied, more sophisticated than in the past. Immigration and trade brought to these regions new insights about what a good life is.
“So Judith, the good life is what we seek—and what we bring.
“This new world sweeps away the blockades presented by old myths nestled in the forests or hillsides of separate peoples. We see humanity as universal. Combining our efforts produces a bounty that no one people could achieve on its own!”
“And the Assyrians are divinely appointed to impose this vision on other peoples?” asked Judith.
“Oh Judith, don’t let your mind get fixated on particular people instead of the vision. The Assyrians are just one force in our complicated world, and they will fall someday,” said Holofernes with a wave of his hand. “I serve the Assyrians today, but I don’t care a bit for them. There will be other empires, and each will fall in its appointed time.
“It’s the idea that I fight for! A world united around the prosperity of all its peoples, all sharing a common philosophy.”
This had an effect on Judith. The others could see her hands wringing each other on her lap as she considered the history and plans Holofernes had laid out.
“I find your ideas inspiring,” she finally said. “But they are foreign ideas. The cities you talk about are far away and the people there live lives very different from ours.”
“Don’t you believe we could find a universal principle that applies to all peoples, everywhere?”
“Of course,” answered Judith. “Our god is a universal one.”
“But that’s not my god, Judith. What god should I adopt in order to support a universal principle?”
She knew he was teasing her and said with a gay twist to her voice, “Oh, we expect the world to follow our god eventually. But we don’t force our god on anyone; we wait for them to find the way on their own.”
“Why don’t you force your god on others?”
“Forcing the truth does no one any good. In fact, even arguing doesn’t do any good.”
“You must be wrong there, Judith!” exclaimed Holofernes forcefully. “I’m starting to understand you, and I trust that in the next few days you’ll understand me as well. Let’s meet at the same time tomorrow. We’ll have time for many arguments—and perhaps even time to reach consensus.”
He took out a small gold figurine of a woman wearing a formal gown.
“Ah, so you do possess idols, Holofernes,” observed Judith.
“Don’t worry, Judith, this is not a statue of a god. It’s just a work of art that I’d like to give to you.”
“I take it in friendship,” said Judith.
Finally alone in their tent, for the first time in their journey, the maidservant ventured to speak up. “I don’t feel secure here, Judith,” she confided. “Why can’t we be with other women?”
“Do you want to be housed with the prostitutes?” chided Judith.
“It’s not just prostitutes! There are weavers, cooks, women even doing the work of men.”
“Now you know we discussed our plan,” answered Judith. “We are near the edge of camp so we can leave each night.”
“I don’t like it,” said the maidservant with a sigh.
But before they went to sleep, she unpacked the garments that Judith had brought to wear during her four days in the camp. Tunics of yellow and green. Woolen and flax undergarments, woven cotton shawls, felt stockings. A lovely linen tunic with touches of luxurious blue on the shoulders or sleeves, which Judith was saving for a special occasion. They exited the camp to pray, greeting the sentries as they left and as they returned.
Meanwhile, in Holofernes’s tent, Bagoas spoke in confidence to him.
“Watch out with this stranger,” he said. “She hasn’t totally left her country behind. I’ve got the kind of sense that comes to a soldier who has done a lot of patrolling, and I don’t feel that Judith is well positioned to join our army.”
“Bagoas, you make a good point. But individuals take time to adjust. Anyway, I have to find out more about her. She isn’t like anyone, man or woman, I’ve ever met.”
Judith and her maidservant donned garments a bit more formal than their traveling clothes for their second day in the camp. They had a chance that day to be spectators at displays of skill among the soldiers. Holofernes had arranged for rodeo events, archery tournaments, swordplay, weight-lifting competitions, and other distractions to keep his troops from chafing at the four-day wait they would have to endure. The events also had the benefit of discouraging participants from overconsumption of wine, beer, and poppy extract in their free time, although among those who merely watched from the sidelines these substances circulated boldly.
Judith was starting to tally the countries that had provided the tens of thousands of soldiers in the camp. Holofernes had broken each nation into divisions and scattered them, so that they would not form individual esprit de corps but would learn to share food, chores, and games with men of other nations. Scythians came with their snorting horses from Anatolia to the North, Edomites from the Southern desert right next to Judah, and swaggering Medians from the areas that had supported the ancient Sumerian empire to the East. Judith knew the Moabites, Ammonites, and Phoenicians, who had occupied Judah’s borders along with Edomites for years. Syriacs, Parthians, and countless others were new to her.
The six who had gathered in Holofernes’s tent the previous day gravitated back there during the afternoon.
“I can tell you’re well-traveled, Sargon,” said Perses. “You know all the good moves. It took me years of playing different cities to learn them.”
“Yeah, I noticed that you made your exit early in the evening before I could clean you out altogether,” said Sargon with a smirk.
“We’ll do another match,” promised Perses.
“Tell me, Judith,” asked Holofernes with pride, “What did you think of the displays of strength you saw today?”
“Magnificent,” Judith answered. “The power and concentration of your troops is unsurpassed. Ours would be no match for them, even were our men facing a number of opponents comparable to their own, and were not starving.
“But tell me in turn: How does the awesome force you’ve gathered conform to the mission that you outlined in your speeches? What if these men broke out in blind violence?”
Holofernes listened and nodded. “That’s a serious problem, Judith. It’s ironic: to spread an advanced doctrine, we have to draw on the most primitive practices of mankind. But our soldiers are not meant always to be soldiers, nor will I be a lifelong general. We’re not like that Grecian city where the men do nothing except practice the martial arts, the better to enslave their neighbors. Quite the opposite—we’re erecting an international framework of cooperation. As that comes closer, our soldiers will be discharged to their farms and workshops. I look forward myself to retirement, and to doing some writing about my ideas.”
“Discharging the army? Will men no longer practice violence?” challenged Judith. “I know men too well, I’m sorry to say, for you to persuade me you can achieve that.”
“That’s what I’m always telling Holofernes too!” piped up Bagoas. “I think the soldier’s the highest form of profession, because he creates the safe regions where the rest of the population can do productive work.”
“One could ask why people enjoying prosperity and the high regard of their neighbors would be tempted to violence,” Holofernes replied. “But yes, you are both right, we have to assume that some malfeasance will continue to sprout up, even in the better world we hope to create. Some brigades will be maintained, especially at the borders of our commonwealth.”
Sargon leaned forward. “May I offer an observation, general?”
“Certainly, soldier.”
Sargon rose. He was a sallow-faced man with indeterminate features; it was hard to tell his age but he had a youngish air about him. “Honored to be able to speak to all you fine folks. I want to say, soldiers are the least lawful of professions. I joined the Akkadian army when I was twelve, and I’ve seen everything that soldiers do—things I would not regale you with in the presence of the women here, although plenty of women were the victims.
“As I see it,” Sargon finished, “civilization has to rein in the soldier. It’s not the other way around.”
“The answer is work and trade,” Holofernes said. “It’s the combination of work and trade that make men choose peace over war. We’ve learned that each nation is expert at different skills and materials. For instance, Judith, isn’t your own Judah rich in copper?”
“Yes,” she answered, “we’ve been selling it abroad for centuries.”
“Now in other places—some Greek islands and the southern lands of the Hindu—people have an expertise at forging bronze mirrors. Do you see what this means? If you ship your copper to those who can use to make mirrors, there will be more mirrors for everyone. And you wouldn’t want to go to war because it would disrupt the trade routes.”
“Our plain copper mirrors do fine, for women of Judah who want to preen themselves,” Judith responded.
“You’re trying to derail my argument, lady. You’re more sophisticated than you pretend to be; I’ve learned by now what a vixen you can be. But surely, you’d enjoy the sheer silks of the Orient on your soft skin, wouldn’t you? With the current limited trade, we miss out on the vast majority of goods we could benefit from. People in remote forests have discovered plants that cure diseases found everywhere. Some cities manufacture intricate devices that we can’t even imagine.”
Perses interjected, “If you’d like to hear from a trader what we need in order to increase trade, general, I’ll tell you: safe roads and oceans. If you peeled off a few hundred soldiers from this big, impressive convocation you’ve assembled here and send them out to crush the thieves, you’d get a trade in goods that you’d never imagined possible.”
“Could you trust the patrols to be any better than the pirates?” asked Sargon.
“I hear you, Sargon. Yeah, I know soldiers through and through. Every month I argue with some blockhead who thinks a sword makes him viceroy. But we could at least plan ahead and be ready with the necessary silver,” answered Perses. “And while we’re on the subject of bribes, stop the towns from taxing us on the way in and on the way out.”
“What’s it all for, Perses?” asked Sargon. “Is that all that life is to you traders? Driving a good bargain and pocketing a few more shekels to lose at the gaming table?”
“I think that’s what Holofornes is asking for,” Perses claimed. “Isn’t it about buyers’ choice? If you want cinnamon from Ceylon to cover the stench of rotting meat, you get what you ask for. If you never knew that cinnamon existed, we can season your tongue and your yearning with a taste.”
“And if the king of Assyria wants purple dye to mark his vest off as different from those of his flunkies, that’s even better for you, isn’t it?”
“Certainly a bigger profit to be made. But if traders are greedy—I won’t contradict you there, Sargon—the governments are greedier. They can’t see a bulging purse without salivating.”
“If the people are affluent,” Holofernes stepped in, “Governments will need to do less for them and will have less need to impose harsh taxes.”
Judith took back the conversation. “I’m not done with your enthusiastic vision in bronze, Holorfernes. You want us to ship our copper to the Greeks and Hindus, but it will corrode long before it gets to them.”
“That’s been on my mind, Judith. We’re greatly expanding the breeding of camels and horses. And we’re clearing roads with the help of thousands of builders. Trade across the continent will become faster and much more common. You and I are both young enough to live to see the difference.”
“Your mind runs faster than your horses, Holofernes, but I’ll catch you yet. Think about this: in Judah, we too have our division between those who grow the wheat and those who bake the bread; those who raise the flax and those who weave the tunics. But our proximity makes both better bread and better tunics. The growers know the constitution and quality of their produce. They convey instructions as to proper care and use to those to whom they sell it.”
“Maybe true, maybe true. But the human race will be held back if all manufactured goods must be made from local materials.”
Perses spoke up again. “The future belongs to the movement of people and goods around and through countries, Judith. You’d be amazed to learn how far-flung islands, hundreds of miles out into the sea, enjoy goods from other parts of the world brought to them on boats just a few cubits long. To be human is to trade; everything fits into that worldwide churn. And your country, Judith, is just a point on the globe.”
“Gentlemen,” said Judith. “All this is just talk about copper, whether fashioned into mirrors or coins. Holofernes wanted to hear my reply to the vision he espoused yesterday. Are you open to that?”
“This is the time to hear your view,” Holofernes agreed.
Judith began, “Judah is a community. We have our rich people and our poor, and plenty of sinners among both. But we are a community. Let me try to explain that.
“Our community is tied together by practice. It’s a flexible practice, one that evolves through a kind of silent, shared understanding that sometimes we discuss and sometimes just blossoms. This practice makes us different from everyone else in the world. And is that bad?
“We know that one hundred seventy thousand people will not come to one another’s aid where there is personal need. Support comes to me in the fields outside Betulia, where I have lived for my whole life and where I have learned what life means.
“We welcome Perses and his ilk. We send our superb olive oil and date honey to other nations, but trade doesn’t define us. It doesn’t meet the needs that are known to everyone without elevating them to the level of laws or contracts.
“When one of those needs occurs, it is met by our people. Spontaneously, without exhortation.
“You must have never seen this taking place in these astonishing metropolises of which you speak. It is the wisdom of the family, the tribe.”
When Judith ceased speaking, everyone was silent for quite a while. The force of her argument had moved each of them. Sargon jumped into the gap. “What if someone doesn’t like your fine community’s way of doing things, lady? It all sounds very nice, the way you put it, but it’s not for everyone.
“I never fit in my family or town when I was a kid. People were always telling me to do things I couldn’t do. Or didn’t want to do—I’ll be honest about that. I kept moving around till I found a group I could blend with.”
“Yes,” said Judith simply. “We have people who leave Judah, and people who come to join us. But it sounds like you had a rough time as a youth, and I congratulate you for finding a way out.”
Sargon twisted around to look at the rest. “What I’m saying, some folks make communities and enforce the rules, other folks are just trying to survive.” He suddenly had a creased, traveled look about him.
“I can echo you, Sargon,” Holofernes found the presence to say. “I myself was never happy growing up in the province around Nineveh. My family and neighbors never looked beyond their local schemes and feuds. While others around me gossiped about who threw the biggest parties and wore the most expensive outfits, I decided to find out what makes all that possible—how the world really works. And then to bring that knowledge to everyone.
“Our trend weakens the power of the state over its people. With the increase in wealth and mobility, each person forms bonds with the people of his choice. Our Sargons have more freedom.”
“That won’t replace communities, Holofernes,” claimed Judith.
“Holofernes seems to be talking about something different,” put in Bagoas. “The state, not the community.”
“Can they be separated? How does the individual relate to the state, versus the community?”
“Ask the perspective of a slave,” said the maidservant. She had never spoken in this forum before. While everyone turned to her she sat placidly, ready to imitate what she had seen other so duirng the past two days of conversation. “It makes sense to ask a slave,” she went on, “because slavery is the most extreme relationship between a person and the state. That relationship tells you things that you don’t learn from other types of relationships.”
“Even slaves run away sometimes,” Bagoas suggested.
“A lot of them turned up as volunteers in regiments I’ve been in,” added Sargon.
“But most slaves don’t,” said the maidservant firmly.
“Why not?” asked Bagoas. “Why you don’t run away?”
“Well, take a look at me here. I could have left Judith as soon as we came. But isn’t it more pleasant to sit here and listen to you chat than to sweat before a loom from morning to dusk?”
The maidservant gathered courage.
“A few slaves do run away. It’s difficult because they lose their livelihood by doing so. But they can outrun the arm of their owners and find a patch of land to till, or some contract employment.
“What’s really terrifying is that they have no place anywhere. They are stateless. When they were slaves, they knew what was coming, They had no possessions and few rights, but they had a place. That’s better than having no place.
“What does this fact say to the rest of you—people with money, power, or just a say in what’s done? The state is a part of a person. You have meaning to the extent that you have a state. Dear general, you want to weaken the state. That affects me. It affects everyone.”
Again, a long silence ensued. All were pensive, particularly Judith. Eventually Holofernes rose to dismiss the group.
“Let’s gather tomorrow and resolve all the questions we’ve raised today. We have two more days before action.”
Alone in his tent with Bagoas, Holofernes shifted nervously in his chair. “What do you think of that woman, Bagoas? Isn’t she magnificent? And she’s joining us! I think I could make her my wife.”
“She’s a wonder, of course. A beauty coming and going. But you’re losing your judgment, boss. You have to look behind her form and face.”
Holofernes sprang to his feet. “I do, Bagoas, I do! You miss the very thing that obsesses me about her. She’s someone who understands herself, and where she comes from. Judah is flowing through Judith.”
“You’re not turning back from your pledge, are you? She’s appealing to your soft side, general, playing on your ideals.”
Holofernes plumped down on his bed. “I will follow through on my pledge. I will destroy Judah, and Judith will help me. I feel no compassion toward that outlier country. I know Judith, but I don’t know Judah.”
“Good,” said Bagoas through clenched teeth. “I could command this army if you wimped out, but I couldn’t motivate them. They follow you. Only you can complete this mission.”
As for Judith and the maidservant, they once again exited the camp to pray, leaving Sargon and the safety of his escort behind. Judith said nothing about the conversation till they returned to their tent for a quick meal before sleep.
“Tell me,” she asked the maidservant, “Do you want your freedom? What would you do if you weren’t working for me?”
“My parents were slaves and I was born into your household, so I have nothing else to compare my station to,” answered the maidservant. “I could slip away and disappear into any of the women’s work teams here. But I’ve seen what kings and emperors do—they work people to death. As for you, Judith, you’ve always treated your staff fairly. Manasseh respected me.”
“I’m glad you said that. I always thought of you as part of my household. Manasseh was a simple man, not a man of much thinking, but out taking care of his fields every day. Sad, but accepting, that we never had children.”
“Slaves in Betulia can still live with dignity. That’s not true everywhere.”
“Yes, and I worry about the fate of ordinary farmworkers and craftspeople in the world Holofernes is making. A world of no fixed relations? Every man for himself?”
“The silks and mirrors sound nice. But in Holofernes’s world, I couldn’t afford the luxuries Perses will bring.”
“You’re very astute. But even through I question his vision, Holofernes has a hold on me. I admit it. He’s seen a lot of the world and seems to understand people. We’ve been in Judah our whole lives. How could we know what he’s learned?”
“What!” cried the maidservant. “Judith! He’s a dangerous man. He would lord over you.”
“Ah, that’s the way he seems on the outside. I have a sense of him, and it’s very different from the surface.”
The maidservant showed a look of disgust. “Lots of men strut around and spout nonsense and make themselves look important. Judith, I’m disappointed that you fell for Holofernes’s performance.”
“No. It’s not his performance that impresses me, but his way of trying to comprehend everything. There’s no one in Betulia I can talk to in the same way.”
At that, the maidservant suddenly caught Judith in a tight hug and cried, “What is happening in Betulia, Judith? Are the people still alive? Have they kept firm to their tradition like you told them to?”
Judith turned pale. The riches of the continent faded from her mind and she was back in the gentle fields of her farm. She answered her maidservant, “We have to trust them, dear—and trust God to preserve them two more days.”
On the third morning of their sojourn in the camp, Judith was smoothing our her clothes for the day when she heard a snort of disgust from her maidservant. The woman pointed to the provisions in the corner of the tent and Judith could immediately see the problem: two of her wine flasks were missing.
“I won’t stand for soldiers messing around in our things,” Judith said. “The threat of this breach is even worse than the stolen wine. I’m going to put Holofernes on the spot for this outrage right now.”
Sargon accompanied her as she scouted the camp and demanded at each turn where the general was. She found him near the forge where new shields and helmets were being fashioned, and won a sincere apology from him, along with a promise to provide new guards who would be more attentive. But suddenly they saw the maidservant sweeping toward them with a panicked expression. Behind her were four soldiers, laughing.
Naturally, catching sight of Holofernes, the soldiers paused. The maidservant, whose broad face and wide eyes were too much in shock for tears, threw herself into Judith’s arms. And Holofernes shouted, “Capture those ruffians!”
Quickly Bagoas and his men had the four roped up. “Now you will see Assyrian justice, dear lady,” snapped Holofernes. He swept his hand across the scene that now include hundreds of onlookers.
“Take off their loincloths and castrate the criminals!” cried Holofernes. The detained men started to wail, but his eyes remained fixed on the audience behind them. He sensed a flinch pass through Judith, taking it as a shudder of horror. Then the slight weight of her hand on his arm. It was the first time she had touched him.
But Holofernes had misjudged Judith’s trembling. In truth, she had two starkly opposed reactions. While being repelled morally, she felt an uncontrollable fascination for Holofernes’s resolve, pitiless as it could be, and his strength. She had trembled not out of loathing but of awe.
That made her all the more determined to see whether she could move him in turn. “Don’t inflict this unlasting agony on those men,” she begged.
Holofernes spun his face toward her, astonished. He spoke in almost a whisper. “What are you doing?” He reddened.
“You don’t have to pull a stunt to show your strength before me.” She looked him in the eye calmly.
“Lady,” he fumbled, “That’s a gracious and beneficent request, but I have to deny you.” The loin cloths had been stripped away, but the guards were regarding Holofernes closely before proceeding with the mutilations.
“You see, Judith,” Holofernes went on, “This huge army is a restless conglomerate of rough men, men who are barely held back from impulses by a thought or scruple. Only the extremes of discipline can keep this camp together.”
“Discipline or wanton destruction of men?”
“If I am not cruel, I am not a general. If I bow to scurrilous behavior, mutiny will rage.”
The men spread across the stony field were murmuring ominously. Judith now lowered her head slightly toward Holofernes’s own, as if conspiratorially. But she focused her luminous eyes on his face as she spoke in a quiet voice.
“And what if you gave in to the whim of a tremulous woman?” she asked. “Is that enough to erase your authority, Holofernes? You, the magnificent speaker I saw address the crowd every day? The great educator of the uncivilized? I believe the men look to you to do right. The two men who molested my servant were the ones who did wrong. They should not prod you into doing wrong in turn.”
Holofernes seemed frozen, as if he could not speak or act.
“Can you do what I suggest?” Judith asked.
“I can,” he said slowly. Then he raised his hands and spread them out, addressing the crowd.
“I offer a new punishment for violating the rules of this camp!” he cried out. “We will not match the crime of those men. Give them their clothes and flasks of water. Lead them to the edge of the camp and make them find their own way back home. Do not give them any pay.”
Surprised remarks circulated among the long-roughened witnesses. But they dispersed and the camp fell quiet again, except for the continuous work of smiths, cooks, and woodworkers.
Judith felt an overwhelming relief, paired with a head-spinning sense of power, and something else: a new bond with Holofernes, surprising her by its importance to her. But she spoke with calm deliberation. “I’m impressed with you, Holofernes,” she said. “I hope you realize that if you had carried out that violent act, you would have stimulated a corresponding violence in the soldiers’ hearts.”
Holofernes was still not quite aware of what he just done. “Explain yourself, please, dear friend?”
“The soul of man is divided,” Judith explained. “When men see cruelty, they feel justified—nay, required—to respond with their own. When you show restraint, you demonstrate that they can act with compassion and grace. I am sure that by holding back, you have prevented many vicious attacks in the camp tonight.”
Holofernes nodded, tentatively. He was breathing hard. “I hope so, Judith,” he replied, “I hope so.” He turned to face her. “I see that you have many unusual thoughts, dear lady. I may indeed benefit from having you by my side.”
“And that is why I am here,” smiled Judith.
Still shaken, Judith took the maidservant’s hand and wandered through the camp, Sargon in tow. Soldiers spat as they passed and uttered what she assumed were calumnious threats in languages she didn’t know. Sargon, who probably understood what was being said, showed no particular expression on his face, but stayed close to the women and kept his hand on his knife.
As the sun passed its peak and the group approached Holofernes’s tent, Bagoas left his post and strode quickly over to them.
“My dear lady,” he addressed Judith, “I can find you a safe location outside this camp. There are many quiet, secluded farms where you can be well taken care of, some of them just a day’s journey from here. Or I could set you up in a fine house in Nineveh or any of the cities who have joined our campaign. I have some trusted sentries who can take you there. Sargon could go, if you prefer. They are ready to leave as soon as you say so.”
“I appreciate your generous offer, Bagoas, but I must stay until my job here is done.” And she followed a scowling Bagoas into the tent.
“Judith, has your maidservant recovered from the shock she got earlier today?” asked Holofernes.
“She is calming down gradually, thank you,” answered Judith, and the maidservant nodded warily.
“Holofernes,” said Bagoas, “If you’re willing, I want to discuss the sentences you gave those rapists today. I may be overstepping my place here, but I have to say what was obvious to all the men who watched. You acceeded to the delicacies of a woman.” And he looked at Judith, “I hope not to offend you, lady.”
“I’m not offended, and in fact am a bit proud to feel responsible,” answered Judith.
“But is this the place to discuss a disagreement over criminal justice?” asked Perses. “What does it have to do with Holofernes’s prosperity or Judith’s religion?”
Judith and Holofernes spoke up immediately and simultaneously, Holofernes saying, “We have to resolve this difference,” while Judith said, “This question is fundamental to everything we’ve debated.” They stopped, looked at each other, and laughed, feeling as if they were riding the wings of an eagle high above the rest of the group.
“Judith, please explain how you see the issue,” said Holofernes.
“Gladly. What is the goal of your society, Holofernes, and of ours?
“Your society is, in essence, a carefully calibrated oil press. You talk all the time about the independence enjoyed by each person, but that person’s value rests ultimately on how well they contribute to the running of that oil press. Rewards and punishments are handed out on that basis.
“Our society, in contrast, is a fertile, well-watered soil for people’s growth. We envision a God who does more than check items off a list and decide whether to reward or punish. Our goal is to be holy in every aspect of life; at all times and in all places, at work and at play.”
“That seems like an impossible goal,” said Bagoas.
“I don’t see that holiness on a routine basis when I visit Judah,” added Perses. “Is everybody so holy? You’ll have to persuade me.”
“Why should God ask for something that is easy to do, or even possible to do?” answered Judith. “What sets Jews off from other peoples is that our laws provide steps toward holiness.”
“This brings me back to the question I’ve been asking you since you arrived, Judith,” said Holofernes. “What is the purpose of holiness?”
“Holiness can perhaps be expressed as all that we strive for. Why do we want to change ourselves, to achieve success, to live? Holofernes, look at yourself. You strive constantly for the best for everybody. You of all people must believe that people are not defined by what came before, including their own past behavior.”
“Yes! That’s the key!” Holofernes cried, standing up. “We agree that people learn and change.”
Now Judith also stood. She went toward Holofernes but did not touch him. It was Bagoas who took him by the shoulders and guided him back to his stool, saying, “Relax, boss. This is your territory. You’re in charge. Listen to the lady.”
And Judith spoke. “Does your philosophy contain a kind of holiness, Holofernes? And how does it compare to the holiness of Judah?”
Holofernes reached out for her instinctively, but pulled back as he was aware of the looks of the others in the tent. “I don’t know, Judith. The past few days have left me with too much to think about—let’s stop because the evening is coming on.” His aplomb had ebbed; he remained on his feet as if uncertain what way to go.
And thus they dispersed for the night. As Judith and her maidservant were about to enter their tent, Sargon said, “By the way, Holofernes asked me to pass on a message. He wants to see you alone tomorrow, without me or the other men. He is coming to your tent at mid-day. He said your maidservant could stay in order for both of you to be safe.”
Judith wondered what lay behind this request. Was this when Holofernes would exert his power over her? That seemed unlikely because he wanted the maidservant present. Rather, he was wrestling with the outcome of their conversations, and wanted a private audience because the other men were getting in their way.
She was surprised that it was Sargon and not Bagoas who delivered the message; then she realized that Holofernes did not want Bagoas to know what he was doing.
“I was a brute yesterday, Judith,” said Holofernes. “I knew from our earlier conversations that you are a woman of substance, with a subtle mind. It was crude and insensitive to drag you to an act of inhumane violence.”
They were sitting side by side on the pile of canvases that formed a bed in Judith’s tent, staring at each other, while the maidservant stood back where the bags of supplies were piled up by the edge of the tent.
Judith by now had brought her reaction of the previous day under control, so she took the opportunity his apology offered to bring him more into the open. “How do you want to be remembered, Holofernes, by the peoples of the world?”
Holofernes’s face descended into an unhappy frown. “I have to admit something, my lady. In the palace of Nineveh, frescos of war greet the hundreds of vassals who come to pay obeisance to our emperor. These reliefs on the walls of the foyers celebrate violence, rout, drownings, deaths.
“I don’t want to be remembered for those early excesses. Bagoas has complained to me that I used to kill more people than necessary, because I was a planner and not a military man—that a professional general would achieve his goals with less violence.
“In recent months we have hardly had to let loose an arrow. Peoples come voluntarily to our vision of a unified and prosperous empire.”
“Why is it so important for Judah to give in to the campaign, then?”
“I don’t care a fig for Judah. It has the misfortune of sitting on the route to Africa. That’s where I need to get next. If Egypt is won over to our campaign, our philosophy of world unity will be complete.”
“No philosophy is ever complete, Holofernes. They all evolve. Even our religion, which has been handed down for hundreds of years, changes over time.”
“And you’re so sure your god is eternal? What if I take Judah and you alone are left?”
“You can’t destroy the Jews. You can take over our land, but we have spread to many other kingdoms. The Jews will survive, and so will our god.”
Holofernes started to thrash about. “That’s what I seek—a permanance for my philosophy that goes beyond the lifespan of Assyria itself.”
“Are you envious of our god, Holofernes?” teased Judith.
“Not on my behalf! For the hope of peace and prosperity for all. But I do wonder whether I will be remembered as champion of that hope.”
“You will definitely be recorded in history,” Judith said. “But how? One has no control over that. Your vision is lovely, though.” Judith was speaking sincerely here. “I would be a disciple, if I did not have my people’s example before me.”
Holofernes leapt to his feet. “That’s what I can’t understand about your people, Judith! Why the hell are they so resistant! Why can’t they see what the rest of us see? Tell me, Judith, tell me!” He was striding back and forth in the narrow space of the tent.
“We hold with the deeply held wisdom fashioned by a people over many generations,” Judith answered.
“And what about the new? Times change, countries change! Is there no chance for advancement?”
“I think Jews can handle progress. We ensure that progress preserves what is precious to us.”
Holofernes sat down again, heavily. “Our spies have confirmed what you told us when you entered the camp, Judith. Betulia has run out of food, but Jerusalem has sent bags of consecrated priestly victuals that will be distributed among the population tomorrow. When they partake of that food, they will break their laws.”
“And your fire will consume them like withered leaves, Holofernes.”
He grabbed her hands. “Come to my tent tonight, Judith. And drink with me. I need your comfort and support.”
“I will come,” Judith said, and felt her body heating up. “I will bring my own wine so that I can drink.”
After Holofernes left, Judith paced the small tent nervously. The maidservant almost advised her not to go to Holofernes. Judith started to sweat as they brought out her finest tunic, trimmed with precious blue dye. She let out shallow breaths as they shouldered several flasks of wine and a bag of fine, soft cheese.
As evening fell, they went through the camp behind Sargon. It was coming alive as if a current flowed through it. Burly men were dragging enormous carts loaded with shields and battering rams. Horses were being fed and groomed. Horn players sounded out bone-shattering war calls. Everywhere, soldiers were sharpening swords and stringing bows. Some were drinking beer and dancing around their campfires with pounding feet, singing rapturously.
Perses met them along the way. “I’m heading out tonight,” he explained. “I want to say good-bye, Judith, and thanks for the conversations.”
“It’s smart to leave before the big battle,” she said.
“I try to be smart. It’s the only way to survive in this business.”
It was dark when they arrived at Holofernes’s tent. Judith motioned for both Sargon and the maidservant to stay outside. Holofernes had removed his outer garments and was sitting on his bed looking tired. He had clearly been drinking already.
“Bagoas won’t bother us this evening, Judith,” he said. “I told him to go through all the settlements in the camp and prepare them for battle.”
“I have waited several days for this moment,” Judith said. Holofernes was a mess, but she saw beyond the worn-out, beleaguered soldier to the man of passion and thought.
“Then let us drink.”
They took draughts from their flasks, and Judith handed him some cheese along with her own flask. He ate and drank deeply.
“This is a fine beverage, lady.”
“It came all the way from the Shiloh valley.” She took another drink herself and felt light-headed.
Holofernes covered her hand with his and started speaking. He went over his philosophy with her. “Peace, that’s the goal we seek. Peace is fundamental to sharing our goods and benefitting from different ways of living.”
“Of course, Holofernes.” There were tears in Judith’s eyes.
“But your country, Judah…they too have a different way of life—of holiness.”
“You see the product of that holiness in front of you. Is that why you want to be with me tonight, Holofernes?”
“I love you, Judith!” Holofernes started to weep. “But I can’t abandon my campaign. It’s not just because of what my superiors back home would say. I have devoted my life to these goals and I must push on.” He drank again.
“Many people share your goals. In many ways you have already won.”
“I am winning…I will win…But Judah’s god…” Now Holofernes placed his head on Judith’s lap. “Prosperity for all, peace…Judah’s holiness…Judah’s god…” And as if dropping a great weight, he fell ponderously asleep, his head pressed against her stomach.
Suddenly a shadow crossed Judith’s body. She saw the maidservant in front of her, Holofernes’s sword in hand.
“Is there any other way?” Judith whispered.
In answer, the maidservant drew the sword across Holofernes’s windpipe. Judith choked as blood started to seep from the wound. Gathering her wits, she leapt away so that the blood missed her dress and fell upon the bed. She felt a light-headed throbbing that she couldn’t tell was from the wine or the sudden commotion of events. She took the sword from the maidservant and cut all the way through the spinal cord to sever Holofernes’s head from the body.
They plunged the dripping, misshapen sphere into the bag that had contained the food and wine so recently consumed by the general’s drooping mouth. The maidservant arranged the body on the bed and they covered it to look like a man asleep.
Bagoas was waiting outside the tent, along with Sargon. “He’s sleeping,” Judith said simply.
“I’ll check on him,” said Bagoas.
“Why not let him rest till dawn?” Sargon interjected. “He can’t be disturbed now. I’ll drop the ladies off at their tent and come back to check. You should get some sleep yourself before the big day, Bagoas.”
Bagoas seemed to find this reasonable. He touched his hand to his forehead in respect and said,“Lady, I will see you after the battle.”
Judith kept silent as the Sargon walked with her and her maidservant. The army camp had finally settled down and was mostly quiet, reminding Judith of its state on the dawn a mere four days ago when they were first introduced to it. As they neared near the tent, Sargon spoke again. “I’d like to escort you woman out of the camp, if it’s OK with you.” They passed the sentries and kept on westward.
“Do you believe in our mission, Sargon?” asked Judith.
“Well,” he said, “it’s more like I couldn’t change what happened, so I might as well protect the people under my care. I’ll accompany you to the opening in the chasm.”
“Why don’t you come back with us? Become a Jew; become one of our citizens.”
“No thanks, Judith. As I’ve said before, I’m not the type to fit into communities. I think I’ll just wander around the region and see whether someone needs a night watchman or a palace guard.”
At the entry to the chasm, he kissed each of their right hands and took off into the gloom.
Everything after that was a blur: The climb through the gorge. Waking Uzziah and the town leaders. The intense, heady preparations during the few hours remaining before dawn. Then the descent again, this time with the head of Holofernes dangling from a rod. Bagoas out in front of the army camp, thunder in his face, shaking his sword and shield while shouting invective at the attacking Jews. The screams of the panicked soldiers as they fled blindly: Scythians to the North, Medians to the East, Edomites to the South, each man to his own land, his own family and tribe.
But Judith withdrew and was not present as the victors returned, bringing with them the few enemies who could not flee: the wounded, the sick, the women with young children. Judith had returned to her farm as the soldiers immersed their captives in the waters of the mikvah and converted them to Jews, along with Achior who bravely underwent circumcision along with the other men.
Uzziah found Judith sitting in her vestibule at home, still clothed in the fine garments in which she had entertained Holofernes the previous evening. “Won’t you come to the town to be feted, lady?” asked Uzziah.
“No, I am exhausted and done with this affair,” she answered. “Did you find Holofernes’s body?”
“Yes, in bed where we presume you left it.”
“Please prepare an honorable burial for his head and body,” she said.
“What! For our most ruthless enemy?”
“If you respect what I have done for the nation, you will grant this to me.” And she refused to join any other ceremony.
After Uzziah left, she found her maidservant sweeping out the house and said, “I want to let you know how much I appreciate your fortitude and devotion during these past four days. When I see you here, I remember how you struck the sword blow that saved our people from destruction.” Judith took from a bag the gold statue and handed it to the maidservant. “Now I give you your freedom. Take this to a market in a large city and see how much you can get for it—it should keep you for many years.”
Now the maidservant too was gone. Judith took off the fine gown with the blue trim, smoothed it out, folded it gently, and thrust it deep into a chest that she pushed to the back of a closet.
Then she stood before the copper mirror, peering past its flat surface as if she could find herself there; regarding the unclothed body that would gradually age over time and that no man would see or touch again. She gazed at the mirror for a long time.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.