The Second Judge

A punishment fit for a king.

Jericho, 14th Century B.C.

“My king, Ehud the Benjamite has returned to see you.”

Eglon, the grotesquely corpulent Moabite king, lazily opened his eyes and stared indifferently at the servant from his languorous perch on the sofa. A cool breeze filtered in through the latticework that enclosed the upper room of his palace, though beads of sweat smothered the king’s meaty face regardless.

“And? What does he want? He has already delivered his tribute!” Despite his heft, Eglon’s voice was shrill and reedy.

The servant shifted uneasily. “Er…he does not say, my king. Only that it is most urgent for him to speak with you immediately. He is quite insistent.”

Eglon sighed in exasperation, and laboriously shifted himself up into a more dignified position to receive his subject. “Very well, send him in. Let us find out why he insists on so rudely disturbing my rest!”

The timid servant prostrated himself obsequiously, then turned and opened the door to the hallway. He motioned for the man waiting outside to enter. In walked Ehud, tall and proud and honey skinned. He sported a neatly manicured black beard, with equally black hair that fell past his shoulders. The Benjamite bowed perfunctorily before the king.

“Well?” Eglon groused impatiently. “You have barely been gone an hour, yet already you return. For what? Your tribute was more than sufficient.”

“My king,” Ehud intoned, his voice rich and mellifluous. “I have heard troubling rumors that I thought to share with you during my previous visit, but I was hesitant to do so, lest you suspect my motives. I made it as far as Gilgal before I was compelled to return.”

“What rumors?!” the portly king squalled with dismay. “Could you Israelite curs be plotting a rebellion? If you’re that dissatisfied, might I remind you that it was your God who delivered you into my hands!”

Ehud cast a surreptitious glance around the room, as servants and advisors had begun to gather in curiosity. “These words are better shared in private just between us. It would be most disconcerting for the wrong person to hear what I have to tell you.”

Eglon expelled a derisive snort, yet a thoughtful and curious expression contorted his rotund features. “I suppose I have no reason to fear an audience with you. I assume you have been searched for weapons?”

Seeing the servants nod vigorously, the king dismissed his attendants with a wave of his meaty arm. After a moment of slight hesitation, they filed out in awkward silence, and Ehud locked the door behind them.

“So?” Eglon demanded testily as the Benjamite approached him. “What is so damn important that you turned around at Gilgal and came all the way back here to disrupt my repose?”

Ehud bent low to whisper in the king’s ear. “I have a message from God for you.”

A short sword appeared in his left hand from inside his robes, and, with a mighty thrust, he shoved the blade deep into the king’s fleshy abdomen until the sword point protruded from his back. Eglon’s mouth yawned in dismay as his stomach was sliced open and his bowels were expelled, but no sound was forthcoming. Ehud was up to his elbow in the Moabite’s abundant layers of fat and intestines. The sword slipped from his grasp as he wrested his arm free, disappearing inside the king’s awkwardly flailing corpse with a hideous sucking sound.

Ehud cleaned the blood and excrement from his forearm on the dead man’s robes, then cautiously listened at the locked door for sounds of alarm. Satisfied that nobody outside was yet aware of what had transpired, Ehud moved to the latticework along the far side of the room and began to pry it open. Once there was a big enough space for him to pass through, he clambered over the edge of the wall.

And, just like that, Ehud the Benjamite was gone from the palace before anyone knew their king had been murdered.

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Author’s Note: This Stretch (as the great

Scoot

would say) is my take on the totally gnarly story of Ehud and Eglon, which is one of my favorite passages in the Bible, and can be found in Judges 3:12-30.

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