by Brian Godawa
Jonathan led David the fifty feet up to the throne.
As the two men approached, Saul became nervous. Sweat beaded on his forehead. The dark shade, unseen by everyone else leaned in from behind him and whispered in his ear. “Who is this vagrant? Why have you brought him here?”
Saul choked out, “Who approaches my throne?”
Jonathan said, “Father, this is David ben Jesse of Bethlehem. You asked for a skilled musician. This is the one whom the servants discovered.”
David was intrigued by his elder companion. He had come to know him on the ride here and was impressed with his honesty, humility and faith. It came from a trust in Yahweh that David himself felt he could learn from. Now, this son of the king would not even take the usual credit for discovering David. Instead he gave the praise to the servants. The servants!
David noticed the king did not look well. His royal robes appeared sloppily arranged. He had dark circles under his baggy eyes, revealing lack of sleep. He displayed a nervous twitch in his eye accompanied by subtle shivers and an occasional tick in his arm or shoulder. It looked as if he was avoiding an invisible presence trying to touch him.
Saul’s breathing became rapid as David got closer. His heart pounded in his chest, and his ticks became more exaggerated. The spirit’s whisper in Saul’s ear became louder and more desperate. “Get out of here. Now! I don’t like this flesh bag. He stinks of anointing. He is a threat to your throne!”
Saul gave a strange brush at his head as if to push an insect away from his ear. He said, “Welcome to Gibeah. This is my wife, Ahinoam, and my daughters, Merab and Michal.”
David bowed.
Merab and Michal were both entranced by the young man’s handsomeness. But it was Michal’s eyes that met with David’s. Their locked stare was interrupted by Saul’s pronouncement, “Let me hear of this music that fuels your reputation.”
As David pulled out his lyre and prepared to play, a voice screamed in Saul’s ear, “Do not let this worm play music!”
Saul jerked his head from the piercing shout. He looked at the others around him. Though he knew his secret counselor was unseen and unheard by others, surely that was loud enough to have been heard by the others.
But it was not.
Ahinoam noticed something was wrong with Saul, but she would not say anything. Michal and Merab were swooning over their young male visitor and did not notice a thing.
But Jonathan knew his father was being taunted. He turned impatiently to David, and whispered, “Are you ready?”
“Yes,” said David. He finished tuning his instrument. He paused and then began to sing the first thing that came to him. It was the same first thing that always came to him when he wanted to woo a beautiful woman. It was the song that had seduced Miriam and the others, and now he was singing it with eyes locked onto Michal.
Hear, O daughter, and consider, and incline your ear:
forget your people and your father’s house,
and the king will desire your beauty.
Since he is your lord, bow to him.
All glorious is the princess in her chamber, with robes interwoven with gold.
In many-colored robes she is led to the king,
Jonathan was taken aback by the song of romance. He could see David’s attention was on Michal. He whispered to David, “What about that song you were playing when I found you? Play that one.”
David stopped abruptly. It had the effect of shaking Michal out of her romantic trance. She suddenly noticed that she was quivering and breathing heavily. She swallowed hard but kept her eyes on the handsome young musician she hoped would stay all evening.
Merab was the eldest and therefore more mature. But she had been so swept up in the lyrics and David’s heavenly voice that she did not even notice he was staring at Michal. She only noticed her throbbing desire for the young lion she could not help but fantasize about.
David said to Saul, “Sorry, my lord. Forgive my incompetence.”
He began to play the coronation psalm he had played for Jonathan on the hillside.
Its effect on Saul was immediate. A peace came over him. The whisperer went away. His tension released and his nervous twitching and ticks vanished. It seemed as if his mind all of a sudden became clear and he could even see more clearly with his eyes. It was like a fog had been lifted from over his mind.
Merab and Michal wanted to surrender their bodies to the comely virile musician. Michal was humming along, following David’s verse.
Saul said, “Yahweh is with you, my son. You will be my personal musician.”
“My lord and king,” said David bowing low. “It is an honor to serve Yahweh’s anointed one.”
The girls’ hearts leapt with excitement. Michal immediately began to plot how she could find an excuse to spend time with David. She blurted out, “I will introduce him to the palace and the court musicians.”
Merab snapped an angry look at her sister. “I am the eldest. That will be my duty.”
“It is no duty for me, sister,” replied Michal, “it is an honor. Since you lack my musical experience, I can better orient our new minstrel to his courtly responsibilities. Do you not agree, father?”
Saul nodded.
Michal held back a big grin in her heart.
Merab gritted her teeth. She was outdone by her cunning little sister. She wished now that she had not turned away from her music lessons years before. Michal had kept up with her singing lessons, but Merab lost interest in favor of more intellectual pursuits. She cursed her scrolls.
In this moment of clarity, Saul regretted that he had opened the gates of Tartarus to satisfy his hunger. There was an emptiness in his soul, a deep and abiding emptiness, like a pit in Sheol, that drove him. He had believed that greatness and glory might satiate the hunger. But now he realized he had bitten off more than he could eat. He felt nauseous.
Nevertheless, he determined to institute a pogrom to root out all mediums, necromancers and sorcerers from Israel’s territories. The Torah already prescribed death as the penalty for such spiritual traitors, but in reality was rarely enforced. Common Israelites in more rural areas, in the absence of contact with king or priest, degenerated into doing exactly what Saul himself had previously done. They sought for validation wherever they could find it. And there was plenty of validation from the gods of Canaan, who only asked for a small amount of recognition in return—a small amount of worship. Thus, many Israelites owned teraphim, little statues of gods or ancestors to whom they could maintain household shrines. Even some of Saul’s family had them.
David interrupted Saul’s thoughts. “My lord, I only ask that I am able to maintain my shepherding commitment to my father during his seasonal needs with the sheep.”
• • • • •
Michal had teraphim because she so appreciated the artistic quality of the craftsmanship. But for some reason, she did not want to show David her teraphim as she was walking him through the palace. She suspected he probably would not approve of them. So she avoided the personal quarters of the family and kept to the rest of the residence as she guided him about.
David had asked Saul for split residence between Gibeah and Bethlehem. He would be gone to shear sheep in the summer months, and during lambing, as well as harvest, when all other hands were needed in the fields. Also, many of his older brothers would be conscripted in the military. Michal already dreaded David’s absence and he had not even moved in yet.
At the musician’s quarters, she introduced him to the others who played harp, timbrel, pipes, horns and trumpets. She showed him the workroom where they fixed the instruments.
“Our craftsman can even create a new royal thick lyre to replace your thin one.” Thick lyres were larger and had more strings.
David said, “I am well enough pleased with my humble thin lyre.” He noticed that they were alone in the workroom. He said, “You mentioned your musical experience in the throne room. What instrument do you play?”
; “I sing.”
David’s smile brightened. “Wonderful. Let me hear.”
He pulled out his lyre. She said with embarrassment, “Oh no, I am afraid I would not be of your caliber.”
“Nonsense. I heard you humming when I played before. Just follow along with me.”
“No, really, I…”
But before she could finish her complaint, he had already started playing.
Immediately, she recognized the tune. It was a popular Canaanite song. She was familiar with it. Everyone was. It was a hymn to the storm god Ba’al, lauding his seven thunders over Canaan. But she was surprised David would sing such an idolatrous song.
He said, “Do not worry. I detest Ba’al. Just replace Ba’al’s name with Yahweh’s name when you sing. I do it all the time with popular songs.”
She smiled as he led into the lyrics. She knew them well.
Ascribe to Yahweh, O gods.
Ascribe to Yahweh glory and strength.
She accidentally said the first line like the original. Ascribe to Ba’al, O gods. David gave her a teasing look. She had to get the hang of it. She caught on quickly.
Ascribe to Yahweh the glory due his name;
Worship Yahweh in the splendor of holiness.
The voice of Yahweh is over the waters;
El of glory thunders,
Yahweh, over many waters.
The voice of Yahweh is powerful;
The voice of Yahweh is full of majesty.
The original Canaanite hymn sang of the seven thunders of Ba’al and his enthronement above the waters in heaven. But it was the voice of Yahweh that now thundered seven times and it was he who was crowned with glory and majesty.
The Lord sits enthroned over the floodwaters;
the Lord sits enthroned as king forever.
Michal was in heaven. She sang her heart out. She did not notice that David was as delighted with her voice as she was with his. Their voices melted into a harmonious unity that ushered them both into Yahweh’s presence. It was more than a song. It was a dance. It was a liaison. It was worship.
When they finished the song, they were both breathless. They stood for a moment in awe of the holy. Michal was flushed. She felt as if she had been before the throne of Yahweh Elohim with this young man she did not even know. But she felt like she had just made love to him as well. Like she had made herself utterly and completely naked before him. It was too much for her.
She squeaked, “I have to go,” and scurried out of the room.
David knew that they were in love.
Chapter 23
Dagon met with Ba’alzebul, Asherah and Molech in the sanctuary of his temple. They had come to discuss the latest intelligence delivered to them by Asherah’s spies.
Dagon said incredulously, “Nimrod? King Saul is in the hands of the spirit of Nimrod?”
“So we think,” said Asherah.
Ba’alzebul added, “That means he cannot be the Chosen Seed of Yahweh.”
Molech said, “That means Israel’s fall is at hand. I will have them passing their children through my fires in no time. We will not need war. Israel will be conquered through inner corruption.”
“Do not count your bastards before they are birthed, mole god,” said Asherah. “If he is not the Chosen Seed, then someone else is. When the kingdom of Saul falls, that Seed will rise.”
Dagon said, “But who?” He brushed a couple of annoying flies away from his face.
Anxiety was getting the better part of all of them. They had been seeking to destroy the Chosen Seed for so many generations, they had stopped counting. Ever since they and their two hundred comrade Sons of God had fallen from heaven before the Great Flood, they had sought to corrupt the human bloodline. They made Mount Hermon their cosmic mountain and base of operations. They revealed occult secrets to mankind, took on the identity of gods, male and female, and even mated with human women to create their serpentine seed, the Nephilim giants. The Deluge had imprisoned most of them, leaving the seventy and their minions to become the spiritual principalities and powers over the nations. In Eden, that detestable Creator, Yahweh Elohim, had cursed the Serpent and his seed to be at war with the Seed of Eve. And that one day, an individual from that seedline of Eve would crush the head of the Serpent. The Watcher gods had sought to kill Enoch, Methuselah, Noah, Shem, Abraham and his chosen offspring all the way up to the present. And they had failed every time. It seemed the only thing they had been successful with was their giant progeny.
Asherah said, “It is time for the Sons of Rapha to step forth. They must begin a campaign to hunt down this Seed and suffocate it before it has the chance to sprout.”
“Should we not wait until we have the help of Mastema for so important an undertaking?” Dagon asked.
Asherah spoke to Dagon like the queen matriarch that she had become to him. “Mastema remains in Assyria and Babylon. He will not be available for years.”
“What is he planning?” complained Dagon. He had a tone of desperation in his voice.
Asherah said, “It is classified. You are not authorized to know.”
She gave a knowing side glance to Ba’alzebul. Asherah knew that such exclusion made Dagon feel an outsider to the inner circle of power in the pantheon. That was why she made sure to bring it up every chance she could get. Dagon did not know that she and Ba’alzebul were not vetted for such knowledge either. But thinking that she was vetted fed his feeling of inferiority to her. And that was good.
Ba’alzebul had ferreted out the information on Mastema. Based on his previous involvement with the heavenly mastermind, he deduced that Mastema was strengthening those empires for an all out assault on Israel. Only time would tell.
Dagon nervously paced back and forth, waving more of Ba’alzebul’s flies away from his face. “I am not sure if this is our best course of action.”
Ba’alzebul questioned him. “What other course would you advise?”
“I do not know.” Dagon responded, clearly overwhelmed.
Ba’alzebul said, “My lord and father, I am confident this is our time. I could lead the incursion if you are unsure of yourself.”
Asherah shot Ba’alzebul an angry look. It was too aggressive a move by her co-conspirator. “I do not think Dagon is unsure. I respect his caution. Which is why we need not require assault yet, merely reconnaissance. There will be plenty of time to plan for assault once we have enough information. But until then, I recommend we follow Dagon’s lead and merely gather information.”
In his distracted turmoil, Dagon could not recognize the obvious manipulation by Asherah. Dagon had not suggested anything. Asherah had just used the confusion of the moment to steer the discussion while pretending to be submissive. It turned Ba’alzebul on sexually. He felt more aggressive. His horns had become as full sized as a bull’s. Soon, he would dominate Asherah for his pleasures.
They heard the approach of the Sons of Rapha. Asherah said, “We must leave Dagon to his commission.”
Ba’alzebul and Molech followed Asherah and disappeared behind the image of Dagon into the tunnel access. Dagon stood behind his image considering what Asherah had said. It made sense. It would not be provocation to merely seek intelligence. That seemed safe enough.
Two gibborim warriors entered the sanctuary carrying a frightened whimpering young six-year old boy. One of the warriors had the boy’s feet pinned under his armpit, while the other had an arm wrapped around the child’s torso. They laid him upon the horned altar before the image of Dagon.
The boy began to cry. He knew what his fate was to be. But his cries turned into a dying gurgle of blood when one of the warriors slit his throat.
The smell of the draining blood brought Dagon forth to feast.
The two Sons of Rapha were now in their early forties. Goliath of Gath was over nine and a half feet tall and eight hundred pounds of pure muscle. He had matured into the champion warrior of Philistia and continued to lead the warrior cult since its founding almost a
generation earlier.
His second-in-command, Ishbi ben Ob, had grown to nine feet. As a gibborim, he equaled Goliath in build and experience. They had been inseparable for twenty-five years.
They waited with bowed heads until Dagon had sucked the carcass dry of its life blood. It was an opportunity to place their noses in their chests where they could get relief. The reeking stink of fish burned in their nostrils and made them want to gag.
The god belched and carried the pale limp body back behind the image. He handed it to the hidden Molech, who had been drooling with excitement for the leftovers. Oh, how he loved little children. Their small, frail bodies, their soft tender flesh. He preferred them alive so he could consume their innocence along with their screaming fear. It was the height of depravity to destroy the most innocent of Yahweh’s highest creation, and it fed Molech’s very being to do so. He licked the flesh of his new offering and carried it away to feast on it after engaging in horrendous, unspeakable deeds with it.
Asherah muttered, “Good riddance.” She and Ba’alzebul stayed behind to listen to the discussion about to take place. But they were also having their own hushed argument.
Asherah whispered, “Your impatient power grab almost exposed our plan to the fish. You are lucky he was too confused in his own ignorance to pick up on it.”
Ba’alzebul whispered back in protest, “Your pretended challenge to me further separated us in his eyes. That is good strategy.”
“That was my covering for your near disaster. The time is not yet, Ba’alzebul. You must be more patient.”
He nodded. He would be more patient. But when his time came, he would not share his power with this bitch goddess either. He would be supreme again.
Dagon returned to the two giants kneeling before his image and altar.
“I accept your offering, and I bid you welcome my children, my Sons of Rapha.”
Goliath responded with the respect he showed only to the gods but to no man, “We are your bondservants, my lord and god. Command us and we will obey.”
