by Brian Godawa
“There is your angelic protection,” hissed Asherah.
They drew their weapons.
Before them stood the six archangels: Uriel, Gabriel, Raphael, Saraqael, Raguel, and Remiel.
They drew their swords.
A lone villager stepped outside, saw them all, and shrieked. She ran back into her house, bolting the door. Others would be out soon. There was not much time before the entire town would be awake.
Uriel spoke to the gods, “Looking for something, divine burglars?”
Gabriel said, “We have been dying to bind you cowards since you ran away at Gath.”
Uriel had to have the last joke. “Sorry, no sea dragons out here.”
But then the gods did something the angels did not expect.
They turned tail and ran.
Uriel, Gabriel, and Raphael took off after them. The other three stayed behind.
They chased the three gods toward the perimeter of the city. Uriel saw the forest up ahead and shouted, “We’ll lose them in the woods!”
As they breached the forest’s edge, Gabriel yelled, “Worse than that, dear brother!”
The three archangels ran headlong into an ambush of seventy gods and thousands of spiritual minions, hidden in the foggy mist of the trees.
Chapter 82
The benefits of having lived among the Philistines for over a year finally became useful for David. He had been in close to the inner workings of Gath and its Lord Achish. He had learned how both king and soldier thought, and what were their strengths and weaknesses in battle. That knowledge could make the difference against these odds.
That, and Yahweh on his side.
The strength of the Philistine war machine was the chariot, and they had hundreds of them, backed by hundreds of cavalry. The Philistine chariot was ironclad with heavy wheels and drawn by two horses. Like the Hittites, they had three riders: a driver, a shield bearer, and a spearman, with two long spears for each. They were made for short range combat and hand to hand fighting. They were heavy and they were slow.
The Israelite chariot on the other hand was lighter, like the Egyptian war cart, and was built for speed. They had two riders, one with a bow and some javelins. They could dash around, avoid the slower chariots and strike from a distance. But they only had a few dozen, along with a few hundred cavalry.
In order for David to have a fighting chance with chariot warfare, he would have to engage in a pre-emptive strike to keep the Philistine chariots from being able to charge their ranks. If they charged with a lightning strike, they could do much damage.
So the Israelite forces, led by Joab, left the walls of the City of David and attacked the Philistines in the valley at morning sunrise.
David had organized his units according to skills within the various tribes. His heavy armored pike men of Judah and Naphtali were shock troops that created a wall of impenetrable power to back up their chariots. But behind them, the infamous Benjaminites, who, since the days of the Judges, had perfected the art of slinging launched stones at their foes. And the archers of Zebulun and Simeon brought up the rear with composite bows that were accurate at over a hundred yards. The Philistines lacked the bow, which would be their weakness in this pitched battle.
There was one soldier conspicuously absent this day from the ranks of the Israelite archers: The Mouse, Jonathan ben Shimei. Finally, after all these years, David had chosen him for his own squad of warriors and their secret operation. Though the Mouse was now twenty-six years old and well-trained by his mentor, Ittai, he was still a tiny four-foot-nine pipsqueak compared to his warrior brothers. But he had proven himself in his proficiency with the bow, and David needed that proficiency now more than ever.
When the chariots and cavalry clashed on the field, the smaller forces of the Israelites dashed and dodged and slung arrows into the frustrated Philistine tortoises. The few Israelite riders that got too close were crushed by iron and spear, but the others retreated—covered by a massive wave of Israelite slung stones and arrows that covered the Philistine chariots and the soldiers behind them with a blanket of death.
Like the Israelites, the Philistine ranks had also been organized by skills and tactics. The Gazans used a particularly gruesome ploy that terrorized their enemies. Instead of using traditional shields against the volley of stones and missiles launched against them, they used captive Israelite prisoners as human shields instead.
Thousands of arrows and rocks launched by the Israelites pierced and pounded hundreds of their fellow countrymen to death, placed in the way by the Philistines. It was a barbaric act of unusual cruelty that struck fear into the hearts of the Israelite warriors when they realized what had happened. It made them feel as if they just killed their own civilian innocents. Of course, they did not kill them, the Philistines killed them by using them as shields, but the psychological effect was still powerful, no matter how unjust and evil it was.
The Gazans dropped the dead Israelites at their feet and the Ashkelon soldiers launched their own bizarre counteroffensive. The lines opened up and a slew of dozens of children without weapons ran toward the Israelite enemy, screaming in high pitched voices. Because they were teenaged and unarmed, the Israelites hesitated to kill them. They froze in confusion.
All of the boys and girls running at them had their bodies covered in large bulging bags of liquid. It made them look like a battalion of obese juveniles, screaming, waddling, and bouncing toward them.
Some Philistine arrows hit the corpulent adolescents from behind. But they did not puncture flesh. Instead, they broke open the bags of black pitch that oozed out in a trail following the running children.
The screaming children ran into the ranks of the frontline Israelites without trying to fight anyone.
The soldiers gathered around the children, but did not hurt them. They were children, for Yahweh’s sake.
What kind of people would willingly send their own sons and daughters like this into the fray of a battle?
Everything became clear when a volley of fire arrows launched from the Philistine ranks hit the puddles of pitch that had leaked onto the ground. The fire travelled all the way to the bulging children and ignited them on fire.
They burst into flames, and became screaming fireballs that killed nearby Israelites. They became a wall of fire that hindered the Israelite warriors, scattering them.
The only words that could describe these poor creatures were child suicide soldiers.
The Philistine spearmen then engaged the Israelites, pushing them back. But the fires that had broken the ranks of the Israelites, now hindered the advance of the Philistines.
Back in the ranks of the Philistine army, Ishbi and Runihura stood upon a war wagon searching the Israelite forces for a sign of King David. The Rephaim were holding back to make a blitz strike for the anointed messiah as soon as he was targeted.
But he was nowhere to be seen. They saw someone else leading the troops, but did not know who he was.
What is more, they could see that the Israelite army was not deep. They were spread out wide to look like more than they were.
They were only a few thousand.
And now they started to pull back and retreat toward the city.
Where was their king?
As the Philistines marched after the retreating Israelites, the sound of their footsteps echoed off the tops of the trees of the balsam forest to their right. Their heavy artillery and armor precluded their use of the forest in any way.
The forest environment camouflaged seven thousand light infantry Israelites, led by King David. They had been hiding out in the foliage, waiting for their cue and this was it. A cue given by Yahweh himself. David thought to himself that the echo of the marching troops in the treetops sounded like Yahweh’s heavenly host marching above them on David’s behalf.
No war horn was blown, no command shouted. They followed their messiah out of the concealment, like a silent force of wasps with stingers drawn and ready.
T
hey descended upon the rear of the advancing army.
They took the Philistines entirely by surprise, and the five Lords entirely unprotected.
Another warrior hid in the forest, just out of sight of David’s raiding party. He was an eight and a half foot tall, five hundred pound giant Rephaim, leading a small battalion of a dozen Amalekite guerillas. He had been hunting David for years, seething with the bile of vengeance, and he was determined to avoid the combat mistake he made the last time.
It was Lahmi of Gath.
Chapter 83
When the three archangels followed their quarry into the dark misty forest outside Kiriath-jearim, they knew full well what they were entering—and they were prepared.
When they hit the foggy foliage, Gabriel blew his war horn, and the angels immediately engaged the enemy.
The first wave of gods fought the archangels with the furor of those fighting for their eternities. If any of them should be wounded and bound into the earth or Tartarus, they would remain captive until the judgment.
All of them were frightened by the prospect.
Zeus, Marduk, Horus, Shiva, and Odin struck the three angels with lightning bolts, mace, talons, six-armed swords, and staff.
The angels held their ground, dodging, parlaying, and striking back, blow for blow. These angels were not merely messengers and ministering spirits, they were Karabu, trained in the heavenly art of warfare.
Despite their strength and skill, there was no way in heaven and earth that the archangels had a fighting chance alone against seventy gods and their supporting minions.
There were thousands of the enemy.
But the angels were not alone.
At the sound of Gabriel’s horn, tens of thousands of heavenly host entered the forest from the backside and descended upon their supernatural foes in battle.
The forest became alive with the unseen clash of spiritual warfare.
The three angels guarding the house of Abinadab saw the townspeople running in the streets at the strange sounds in the woods. They all looked out into the misty forest but could see nothing through the ethereal fog. The townspeople could only imagine what must be going on in the invisible world around them.
Inside that bewitched forest, the Seventy saw the host of heaven descending upon them. Before the approaching Sons of God could meet their seventy rebellious brothers and properly engage them, the gods made a break for it and ran away. Just as the Philistine deities had done earlier in the town.
It didn’t make sense to the archangels. Why would they give up so quickly and easily?
They had no time to think.
Uriel saw the huge body and horns of Ba’alzebul. He was getting away with Dagon and Asherah.
He yelled and his two brothers followed him.
As the gods fled the forest, Ba’alzebul saw that the three angels were locked in on them like lions on blood. He cast a knowing look to Asherah, on the other side of Dagon.
Ba’alzebul and Asherah drew their swords and simultaneously swung low, slicing through the ankle tendons of Dagon between them.
He screamed in agony and tumbled to the ground in a pile of pain. His two betrayers raced onward back to Mount Hermon and safety.
The three angels came upon Dagon and stopped to bind him.
Gabriel kept his eye on the gods. “They are too fast. We will not be able to catch them.”
“Cockroaches scurrying from the light,” said Uriel, staring daggers into Dagon’s fearful face. “At least we’ll bind one son of Belial.”
Dagon clutched his ankles writhing in agony. He bellowed in a voice that could be heard for miles, “DAMN YOU BA’ALZEBUL AND ASHERAH! DAMN YOU TO TARTARUS!”
“Oh, they will make it to Tartarus eventually,” said Uriel. “And then you can play dice with them there until the judgment.”
Raphael grabbed his hands and bound him with the material from his armband. It was thin, white and indestructible hair from the Cherubim that surrounded Yahweh Elohim’s throne chariot in the heavenlies. It was the only material that the gods could not escape. It still held many of the original two hundred rebels bound in the depths of the earth from the time of the Deluge.
Dagon would not be getting out of this binding.
Gabriel said, “Nothing like being given up as a sacrifice to save others, is it, Dagon? Or should I call you by your true name, Kestarel?”
Dagon hissed, “You only have me because I was betrayed, godlickers.”
Asherah had led Dagon to believe that they would betray Ba’alzebul to the angels. Dagon boiled with anger at her double-cross. He had been the target all along. He should have seen it. Now they could split Canaan between the two of them as king and queen.
“Which strikes me as odd,” said Uriel. “What was the point of this exercise in futility? Did you really think you had a chance at capturing the ark of Yahweh?”
Dagon laughed. “You fools. Asherah was right. You are such easy targets.”
“Yeah,” said Uriel, “we do not have your depraved minds to think your perverted thoughts after you. But I’ll bite the bait. What are we missing?”
Raphael was already figuring it out.
Dagon said, “We were not here to fight. Or steal the ark. We knew that if we showed up in force you would equal us with all your most high forces—to stop us from capturing your silly little god throne.”
Raphael, who rarely spoke, said it. “The archangels and the heavenly host drawn here leaves the messiah unprotected against the Philistines and the Sons of Rapha.”
“What a genius you are,” mocked Dagon. He mumbled, “Simpletons.”
Uriel blurted out, “We have to get back to the Valley of the Rephaim.”
Gabriel halted him. “But we have to bury this brigand.”
“We cannot make it back in time,” countered Raphael.
“You are already too late,” cackled Dagon.
• • • • •
When David’s stealth forces hit the rear guard of the Philistine army, the Lords of the pentapolis became easy targets. Their royal war chariots had running guards of four giants each, but many of them went down in a wave of arrows, led by the marksman, the Mouse and his mighty bow.
Three Lords died instantly, Tarhunda of Gaza, Suwardata of Ashkelon and Mutallu of Ashdod.
Dothan of Ekron was severely wounded.
Only Achish survived intact. But he panicked.
He screamed like a woman, pushed his driver off his chariot, took the reins himself and trampled over his own soldiers getting away from the battlefield.
David saw the cowardly king drive his horses into the tree line ahead of them. Achish jumped off, running away into the forest.
Lahmi saw David from a distance. He aimed his loop javelin for a throw, and launched it. The special loop released the missile with an extra strong force that increased its speed fivefold.
David raced after Achish, with Benaiah and their armor-bearers by their sides.
Lahmi’s javelin hit a soldier where David had been a second before. Lahmi cursed at his second miss against the messiah in two battles. It would not happen again.
Lahmi sprinted after David into the forest.
Ittai saw his childhood friend and lifelong enemy, Lahmi, through the fighting.
Ittai and his armor-bearer, Elhanan, sprinted after him.
The Philistine forces were now without leadership. They were pinched in front and behind by the Israelites.
Chaos erupted.
But Rephaim thrive on chaos, so the regiments of giants leapt into action.
Abishai met the attacking giants with a strike force he had put together of several hundred of the finest gibborim. They pounded each other in a clash of unrelenting fury between giant and Israelite.
Abishai cut down giants on his way to his target: Ishbi ben Ob, the prized leader of the Sons of Rapha.
Abishai could see a whirlwind of demonic spirits around the giant as he fought. It was as if the supernatural evil that
accompanied this beast had become visible to the naked eye. They added a level of terror to an already terrible and frightening warrior. He was covered by the enchantment of sorcery.
Abishai didn’t care. He was covered by Yahweh, the creator of spirits.
Achish ran like a scared pig through the underbrush of the forest. He kept tripping and falling and picking himself up, a bungling and pathetic mess. Then the chubby leader ran headlong into a tree and knocked himself to the ground, dizzy and seeing stars.
When David and Benaiah came upon him, they noticed Achish had crapped in his battle skirt and was crawling on the ground like a wounded rat trying to get away.
Benaiah stood back with their armor-bearers.
Achish looked up at David and cried out, “You traitor! You double dealing spy! I trusted you! I let you into my palace, and you betrayed me!”
“You betrayed yourself, fool. Philistia is an abomination of desolation, and you expect me to be loyal to you? To double cross my countrymen? To betray my anointed king? To blaspheme my god?”
“I should have listened to Bisha! I should have killed you when I had the chance.”
“I should have killed Bisha when I had the chance,” said David. “But be aware O king, that you will see her today where you are both going.”
“You think you are so holy and pure, you Hebrews.” said the king. “But you are no different than your enemies. You kill women and children, you annihilate and enslave. Your god demands exclusive worship, yet he is just one among many who seek power over territory with violence.”
David replied, “There is a difference between us, Achish. You worship demons. But Yahweh is the Creator of all things. You defied him, and now you blame him for your evil.”
David raised his sword to Achish. “You are a Seed of the Serpent. You will bite the heel of Yahweh’s people no more.”
Then, with a determined resolve and a mighty stroke, David brought down his weapon on the neck of the debauched Philistine. Achish’s lifeless head tumbled aside and landed facing skyward; his final expression of horror a trophy in David’s heart.
