by Fiona Tarr
'With David gone, Saul will annul the marriage to save his pride. I will encourage him to do so quickly and offer some suggestions for your union. Your new husband will not count days. I will make a suggestion to father as to who will be suitable. I am sorry my sister but David, no matter what happens now, will not be able to return as your husband. Father will never have it so.'
Miriam had known this would be the case, yet hearing it from her brother only served to break her heart and spirit. When her father had first told her she would marry a goat herder she had been horrified. Yet the moment she saw David, she knew she would love no other. In less than a day and night her world was shattered—her husband’s life at risk—she and her unborn child would be handed over to another man like livestock. With no options, she was resigned to her fate. At least their child would be safe which was more than she could hope for.
Martinez was struck again by the unfairness of the Israeli custom towards their women. His mother’s fate had been similar, sold as a slave, yet she had found some happiness in the horror. How would Miriam feel in twenty years’ time? Will she have forgotten David; will she begrudge her standing and lack of choices? Probably not, she did not know any other way. It had been all she had ever expected. Martinez never understood where women had lost their position in the nation. When God created the first woman, man worshipped her. She had equal choice and respect. Somewhere, through the many years since, women all over the land and cultures had different positions in society. His mother’s people revered their women, while the Egyptian’s exploited their women sexually, yet their women were free to marry whomever they wished. Israeli women were almost traded, not sold into slavery, yet promised like livestock from a young age, or in Miriam’s case as a gift for service. Francesca was different. She could hide behind her position as a Priestess, not marry, not be committed to general society rules and customs and not have to answer to any man. Yet even her choices were limited. As a Priestess she could not marry and would be shunned if she took a man. He knew even if she did have feelings for him, she would not act on them; as a Priestess she could not. Thinking of her now, made him realise he would need to see her again to send her to seek out David and support him. He was torn; he loved David as a son and wanted to help protect him, yet sending Francesca away was not something he would relish. Every day he could keep her close was becoming more and more important to him. He had no way of contacting her. He would have to hope she had heard the news and would contact him, soon.
****
Francesca's dreams were troubled. She could see David running in the forest again. The same scene over and over; she awoke covered in sweat, fear seeping into her very soul. Not for the first time she wished Samuel had not left her alone. She stood and walked the few steps to her nightstand. The room was small, sparse yet adequate. She poured some water from the clay jug into the basin, splashing her face. Something was wrong. She needed to talk with Martinez. She needed help .She needed Samuel. It was then she remembered again what she recalled at Samuel’s death. What she really needed was faith. Her temptation to take control nearly won over her yearning for connection with her God. She calmed herself, sat down right where she had been leaning against the leg of the nightstand, and prayed. She cried out for help, begged for guidance, a clear path forward. If God wanted her to protect David, He would give her the assistance she needed. Her mind made up, she would get one of her associates to get a message to Bartholomew. He would make sure Martinez was advised immediately.
****
David had made his escape; he had at least half a day’s head start. Was it enough? He had played the scene in his head dozens of times. Could he have done anything differently last night? If he had been more attentive to the King, would he have mistaken his conversation as mockery? David could not see how he could have changed the evening’s outcome. Saul had been aggravated by him for some time. Thoughts for another time; he had too much to consider right now. He had gained enough time to send Miriam to collect some provisions, dried meat and a travel pack including a bedroll. He had not been able to acquire a horse, as it would have raised the alarm too early. Going on foot was the only way. He wished Jonathan were with him. He was an excellent woodsman. He missed Miriam but right at that moment he missed Martinez most of all, for his wisdom, experience and confidence would have been helpful.
Chapter 19
David had travelled all night and believed he had made good ground. Still he needed to get some more distance between himself and the hunting party. Many of the men who would come against him by the King’s order, would be friends, fellow soldiers and even family. He had no wish to harm any of them.
He stopped for a short break, taking out the small amount of fresh bread he had managed to bring with him. He cut some thick goats cheese, spreading it over the bread, rolling it up and taking a savouring bite. As he sat and ate his thoughts wandered. He would be on the run forever unless he could come up with some sort of strategy. He had to keep running for now, but where? He needed to get out of Saul’s territory; somewhere the King’s influence was not so strong. He packed his provisions and decided he would go north, along the coast, into enemy territory. The King would not easily follow him there, behind enemy lines.
It was getting late on the second day when the sounds of pursuit came to him. He began to run, ducking through the forest, under tree branches, undergrowth all around him. As he ducked under a branch a sound to his left startled him. There he was, the soldier from his dream. He almost froze with surprise, however his training came into play and he killed the soldier with a dagger to the groin, just as he had in his dream. An eerie feeling came over him then. The familiar soldier, the dream, all this was foretold. He had never had the chance to question Nina about his dream. There was no need now he knew this was his path, his destiny.
Just as it had unfolded in his dream, it happened again, maybe because of his dream. He hid in the undergrowth, this time at peace and less frightened. The soldiers passed by, gathered up their dead companion and carried on without seeing David hiding amongst the ferns and foliage. While running, David had headed west towards the sea in the hope of laying a false trail. He now continued to his planned destination, northeast, into foreign territory. He would build a personal army and gain favour with the northern tribes; there was no other choice!
****
Francesca had not had the chance to get word to Martinez. It was he who had sought her out to advise her David was on the run. It had taken time to track her down and Martinez had thrown caution to the wind as he visited every cafe, merchant’s stall or home they had ever met in. Eventually he had convinced a merchant of the urgency of finding her and he had directed him to the healing house.
Francesca was shocked to see him as he was led into the hospice where she was tending the sick and infirm. However his news was not a surprise, especially in light of her recent visions. She beckoned him into the gardens, finding a quiet alcove surrounded by solid stonewalls which were neatly lined with a motley coloured hedge, perfect for privacy.
Martinez explained to Francesca about the long hours the King had been spending with Jezebel and how she had behaved during the previous night’s dinner. It did not take much to convince him that Jezebel was behind the King’s dark and unpredictable moods and his shocking attack.
'The priests are not pleased that the King has threatened David and made him an outlaw. However he is the holy anointed ruler of Israel, there is little they can do.’ Martinez was deep in thought so Francesca did not interrupt him. 'With Jezebel compromising his state of mind, the whole nation is at risk.'
Martinez did not usually worry about such matters. He was a man of faith. He reasoned that the threat on David's safety was at the heart of his worry. He had no son of his own and had adopted David gradually over the time they had known each other. 'I am sorry. I am just concerned for David,' he explained.
'I understand. I will get word to David. He will be safe Martinez. His destiny do
es not end anytime soon. I have seen it.' Martinez looked at her strangely, eyes questioning. 'I am a Priestess of the One, not only in devotion. He has gifted me in many ways, including being able to walk possible futures.'
'That is a very useful skill indeed! Can you also see the past?' His mind suddenly focused.
'To be honest I have never thought to seek it. There is very little that can be gained from viewing the past. It cannot, or should not be changed. What purpose would it serve?
Martinez could think of one such immediately. 'If you had not foreseen who killed Derai, walking the past would now show you. It would still be helpful now to see who and why.'
Francesca had never even considered this tactic, but it was true. Viewing the past could indeed prove useful if she possessed the talent.
'You have raised a good point. I will attempt the walk later during my meditation and prayer. If I have been so gifted, I would assume there is a purpose to the knowledge.'
****
David was exhausted. He had pushed on as fast as he could. He had found a cave to make a cold camp in, not wanting to risk a fire in case travellers caught sight of it. Even if they were not hunting him, the King’s soldiers would question them. The very mention of him would redirect the search in his true direction. He hoped he had covered his tracks. Jonathan and Martinez had trained him well. He just prayed they would not be sent to track him. He rested with his hands behind his head lying flat on his back on the ground, a small blanket pulled up over his lower body. He could see the stars from the cave entrance; relaxing, he lost himself in them.
The voice came to him quietly at first, a familiar female voice. Not sure if he was awake or asleep, he felt confused and disorientated. He did not recall falling asleep, yet he felt like he was having a dream. 'David, seek the giant's sword; its possession is important to your survival.' He jolted awake. He had been asleep, yet the voice did not seem to be a dream. It was Francesca's voice; of that he was sure. He decided the temple in Armin was in the direction he was intending to go. It was sensible he should pursue the message and its course of action. The sword would be difficult to manage without a horse. It was nearly as tall as David and heavier than he could carry easily. The first thing he needed to do was procure a mount, but how?
For now though, he needed to catch a little more sleep, before pushing on. He thought of Miriam, his first and only love. Taken from him now, he would never love another. Yet he had grown to enjoy the pleasure of a woman and the need in him was strong. The beautiful pale skinned woman with red gold hair tormented his dreams; still he could not see her face.
****
Francesca's message had reached David. She had blended with his mind momentarily. He was alone and weary, but not frightened, his physical and emotional strength holding. She would need to watch over him every night for a while to ensure Jezebel did not try to harm him. It would be tiring. She would need to catch up on sleep by day. For now though she wanted to walk the past, to see more about Derai's death, to discover if indeed she could walk the path of the past.
She sat on the floor of her dingy room, a straw mat under her with a few cushions thrown around. She crossed her legs, placed her hands together, palms joined at her breast and took deep breaths in and out. Her heart rate slowed, her mind cleared and she felt like she was floating above the earth. The presence of the One could be clearly recognised in the depths of her soul. Her vision swam; she could see Saul holding Derai's hand at her bedside; Martinez stood unnoticed at the foot of the bed, his pain obvious to her, totally missed by Jonathan and the King. Further back Francesca pushed, until she was in the room before Derai had been attacked. She saw the whole event unfold, witnessed Derai's depression brought on by magic. Most importantly she heard Derai's last thought of her son and his father. She truly was meant to walk the past, This information Jezebel now possessed and what she could do with it was earth shaking.
****
Martinez found his bed uncomfortable and sleep would not come. His mind was filled with images. Derai as a young woman running with him—her face that night of passion they had shared—the sight of her broken on the floor of her balcony. Then images of Francesca, the day they had found her fighting the Philistine deserters, the tip of her blade covered in blood, her harsh disregard for him. Then when they had met on the road, their friendship growing over the months they had worked together, now tonight with her child-like vulnerability in the body and mind of a strong passionate woman. He was emotionally torn between his lost love Derai, and his feelings for Francesca, yet it mattered not. Francesca would never take him as her husband; her duty as a Priestess would always be more important. Francesca would always be seeking, seeking the unattainable. For years he had stayed away from women, preferring to train and fight hard. He very rarely needed the pleasures of a woman however tonight was different. He felt the need rising beyond his control. He decided to do the only thing he could to quench his thirst. Moments later he was running around the training ground, warming up his muscles. He stopped, took up his sword and practised his forms endlessly until every muscle in his body ached almost beyond all feeling. It was all he could do; he did not want just any woman. Unlike most men he needed more than simply to rut. He craved the emotional contact, the blending of souls that came from lovemaking. Finally, physically exhausted, he returned to his bed and sleep took him away from his longing.
Chapter 20
Jezebel's plans to see David dead were unravelling. He had escaped; Saul could not even manage to kill him in his own dining hall, stupid, useless man! At least with David out of the way, she could take control of the situation within the Israeli capital. David was the one the officials had faith in now. Saul had lost all support as the priests and politicians were increasingly uneasy with their King. Yet civil unrest appeared to do nothing to aid the officials in eliminating the King. Such was their faith in an ordained ruler and they believed that their God would prevail. She may yet have to reveal her little secret to truly undermine Saul. If she could eliminate the King with no clear ordained replacement the people would be lost in the desert once more, leaving them no choice but to return to their rightful place as slaves to her people.
Saul rolled over in his sleep. Jezebel got up from the bed, wrapped herself in her robe of silk, and left for her own rooms. She rarely slept with the King anymore. He was virtually impotent; such were the depths of his depression. It seemed small mercies did exist, Jezebel thought with a wicked smile. He was such a needy man with little aptitude for pleasuring a woman. No great loss. One consolation was that she was once again treated like a queen with her every whim catered for.
Alone now, she decided to seek out David, just to see how he was going. As long as he was heading away from Jerusalem she would leave him to his own fate. He would not cause her any further concern. She would need no sacrifice tonight, as the distance of travel should not be too far. Candles and oil burners were lit, with the symbols of power placed around the room, Jezebel settled into the cushions on her big soft, silky bed and began to chant her ancient incantation. Her amulet hung low between her breasts; it was warm as it began to glow. The flight was indeed short. David was resting in a cave around 15 parasas north of the Israeli capital. More than twice what the average man could cover in less than two days. Jezebel was mildly impressed. Heading North straight into Philistine territory, he should be of no further concern now. He would likely be dead in a matter of weeks. She returned to her body and blew out the candles, leaving the oil burners to cast a glow and aroma through the room as she drifted into a dreamless sleep, content that her plans were once more back on track.
****
Francesca had put much thought into whether it was wise to tell Martinez about Jonathan. It was only a matter of time before Jezebel felt the need to use the information to her advantage. Yet telling him would change the way he treated Jonathan. It could affect how much devotion he would continue to show David. She was aware David was the son Martinez thought he
never had. She was not lying; she would withhold the truth for now. No matter how she tried to justify it, she still did not feel comfortable.
She was preparing to leave the city. This would be her last meeting with Martinez before setting off. There was no joy in leaving, pursuing her duty. She was past wanting to take on the responsibility. Yet she could not pass it over to anyone else, not even God. A failing she knew was hers alone to bear.
Martinez had spent many hours considering religion, finally deciding long ago that he had no interest in it. He had faith and believed in God. He got up every morning and thanked Him that he had not died in his sleep. Lately it seemed religion was becoming more and more like politics and he disliked politics intensely. The ancient commandments of God were relatively straightforward. Do not sleep with your neighbour’s wife. Be happy with what you have been given. Do not steal. There was not really any grey area that he could find. Somehow the commandments seemed to be easily twisted by any man, at any time, to suit any whim. He found the reasoning of priests and officials strange, even infuriating. They would quote a commandment, then rationalise what God really meant by it. Then fashion some obscure application for that commandment. If that were not enough, they would quote an earlier priest without fully understanding the circumstances. Instead of the original Ten Commandments the Israeli people had been given in the beginning, now they had many little rules that had been crafted by the priests in order to pass laws to control the people. Martinez was no scholar or theologian; he was simply a soldier, one who understood discipline. If the people just obeyed the Ten Commandments it would be far simpler. The problem was that people in general lacked discipline and self-control.
How did he find himself immersed in religious matters regarding the ordained leader of their nation? He liked Saul; he was his half-brother, they had grown up together, fought together as mercenaries. Martinez had spent many years in the King's service as envoy, confidante and senior General of the Army. His relationship with David was different. He had liked the boy the moment he met him. He now loved him like a son. Yet, now his brother was trying to kill his adopted son and he was placed fatefully right between them. Precariously positioned and ultimately heading for trouble no matter which direction he moved, he frowned to himself. God had a very strange sense of humour he reasoned.
