Shouts resounded down the hallway.
“What kind of a son are you? Everything I do is to preserve your kingdom.” Father’s heavy steps pounded toward me.
“God anoints the next king. And I shall gladly serve him.” Jonathan’s angry retort shattered my calm, and a sudden chill blanketed my face. What if Father guessed David was the anointed? Would David be in danger?
They barreled around the alcove and stopped when they spied me. Father clapped an arm around Jonathan. “Perhaps we better get to the frontline so we can return victorious.”
Jonathan grunted and flashed me a smile. “No worries, my sister. We’ll make sure David comes back safely.”
A few days later, the village women’s repeated chants heralded their return. “Saul has killed a thousand. David has slain ten thousands!”
I cringed, fearing my father’s response. He would no doubt fly into a rage and accuse David of stealing the people’s hearts. I ran down the steps and toward the gate, but Jonathan caught David’s arm and led him toward the audience chamber. David scanned the crowd, and even though I jumped and waved my scarf, he didn’t see me through the throngs of men and dust.
Disappointed, I climbed to the top of the wall near our apartment. The afternoon sun gleamed over the village. Hawks coasted lazily in the wind currents. I laughed at a young boy who yanked a red-brown calf that reared and resisted his tugs with loud grunts.
A man’s strong hand covered my eyes, and his bearded lips kissed me deeply.
“Michal, do you go around letting strange men kiss you sight unseen?”
I poked his ribs. “Are you telling me you’re a stranger?”
“You’re supposed to say, ‘I’d know you anywhere.’” David bent my head back for another kiss while carrying me to the bedchamber.
My lips still locked on his, I untied his sash and thrust my hands under his tunic.
“Wait, wait.” He squirmed from my grasp and fumbled in his pocket. “Close your eyes.”
I shut them and bounced on my heels. The weight of a light chain dangled around my neck.
“Now, open them.”
A single round emerald, the size of a partridge’s egg, lay on my chest. “Oh, David!”
“Do you like it? I mean, you probably have lots of jewels and everything.”
“Oh, it is lovely. I shall never take it off.” I knew how hard he had worked for this. The gold and silver he obtained for Goliath’s head had paid off his family’s debts. My father did not pay him to serve as his captain; soldiers lived off loot taken from the enemy.
“I hope it’s the only thing you won’t take off.” He fingered my dress and swept me onto the soft, downy bed.
* * *
David stood with King Saul at the victory celebration. The king placed his hand on his shoulder. “The LORD has wrought a great victory for all of Israel. Today, the Philistines were pushed further toward the sea. One day, David will rid our land of these beasts. David has been a godsend to us all.”
He raised his tankard. “Behold, my son, David!”
The cheers rang long and loud as the people stood to applaud. David shifted in his seat. The king had pointedly exaggerated every pronouncement, eyeing him to watch his reaction. A drop of sweat wormed down the side of David’s temple. Michal had told him about her father’s envy, how he felt God had abandoned him for David.
David’s gaze drifted to his wife. No matter what happened with the kingdom, God had gifted him this wonderful creature. After the celebration was adjourned, he grasped her hand and led her quickly to their bedchamber. The tightness in his abdomen hummed in tune with the tingling in his hands as he undressed her.
Insistent raps on the door interrupted them. David groaned and pulled a sheet over her body.
A sharp voice shouted through the closed door. “The king summons you to his bedchamber. He cannot sleep. Bring your harp.”
David pulled on his clothes. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Hold that warm spot for me?”
She blushed and squeezed his hand before settling down on the pillow.
He grabbed his harp and followed the manservant to the king’s quarters, tamping down the edge of resentment in his chest. Perhaps Michal was right. He could serve the king from the battlefield and move her to Bethlehem to stay with his parents.
The king sat in a gilded chair, a spear in his right hand. He thumped the floor with the shaft. “Son of Jesse, you think you’re some kind of hero, boy?”
He tilted his face, and David kissed his beard. “Show me you’re still my servant by playing for me. All. Night.” The pitch of his voice sank low and menacing.
David strummed the harp strings and sang. Hours passed, but the king stayed alert, keeping beat with the tapping of his spear. David’s face sweltered with sweat. His voice grew hoarse and then raw. His throat tightened, and he sought a place to escape. Escape the stifling odors, the rank, sweet smell of the water-pipe. Escape the scent of terror and jealousy swirling in the room. Escape the pounding in his head, the beat of death.
A gentle breeze stirred the moisture on his shoulders, his neck, his arms. His wife waited in her bed. Her breath, panting, warm, hot. Her hands tracing the ridges on his stomach, following the line of hair pointing to pleasures below. “I love you, David. I love you. Do you love me?”
David’s breath hitched, and he missed a chord. He caught the king’s piercing look and dodged. Something whooshed past his ear. A spear thudded into the wall where his head had been. David dropped his harp and plunged out the door.
“Return to me, my son,” King Saul bellowed. “I meant you no harm.”
David stumbled past the servants and into the garden. He put his hands around his head and took deep breaths. Saul had once loved him, called him a son. He had once leaned on the king’s chest and strummed his harp, and Saul had found peace. But there was no peace tonight, no calm, no comfort. Tonight was a night ripe for murder.
* * *
Hurried knocking roused me.
My maid, Naomi, stood at the door, her cheeks flushed. “My lady, the king seeks to slay your husband. He told his guards to set a watch on your house and kill him in the morning.”
A fierce jolt in my chest almost knocked me over. “Where is he? Is he all right?”
“I don’t know, my lady. Please, don’t let anyone know I told you.” She ran from the room.
I pulled on my outer robe and cloak and peeked out the door. David walked toward me followed by guards. They stationed themselves at our door as David entered.
I shut the door. “Naomi just told me. What happened?”
He moved away from the door. “Your father threw a spear at me.”
“He told his guards to kill you in the morning. You must leave now.”
David clutched my arms. “How will we get out of here? They’re standing at the door.”
“The window. It drops outside the wall. It’s the only way.” I looked at the bed sheets. “I’ll hold the sheet and let you down.”
“But what about you? I can’t leave you here.”
“Don’t worry. He won’t kill me. I’m his daughter.” I helped David knot the sheets together.
“Oh, Michal, I’m not such a coward to run. What will become of us?” He secured the tied sheets to the foot of the bed.
“Come back for me when his anger has cooled.”
“Haven’t I served him well? Could I have done better?”
“You’ve been good to us all. He’s afraid of you because the LORD is with you.” I rubbed his beard with both hands, grasping for the fuzzy reassurance that it represented.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can. If you need anything, let Jonathan know.” He kissed me, his eyes moist.
Cold sweat broke on my forehead, as a hollow feeling sunk into my heart. “You must go now, while there’s time.”
“Not yet.” Breathing unevenly, he planted his mouth on mine. The kiss was full of questions, stumbling, tripping, and gasping without answers
. My nose bumped his, and he fumbled with my robe. Sobs hitching my chest, I pawed and clutched at him, begging, shaking, out of my mind.
He bent me back to the bed, his mouth swallowing my sobs. Shuddering, trembling, wheezing, my chest tightened under his weight. I clamped my legs around him, his solid flesh consoling, as he comforted me, urgent in anguish, but tender in leave-taking. Our hearts and pulses joined, we stroked each other, imprinting, and memorizing every contour, every loving detail.
Marching footfalls alerted us—the changing of the guard. David jumped from the bed and tied his robe. I pulled my clothes together and crept to the window to time the path of the guards. When they had strolled under our window and headed toward the main gate, I motioned to him.
It was time. We clasped hands, fingers intertwined, and stared at each other through the stream of moonlight. A tear slid down his cheek, followed by another and another.
“David, you must leave now,” I said, “before the dawn, or my father will be upon you.”
I let the sheets down.
He looked at the jagged rocks below. “Come with me. Can you make the jump?”
“They’ll be back in a few minutes. Go now, before anyone sees you. I have to pull the sheets back up.” This can’t be happening. My father will cool off. Everything will be fine. It’s just a bad dream.
He swung a leg out. “Wait. Give me a blessing, as my wife, my beloved.”
I stared deep into his eyes. “The LORD bless thee and keep thee.”
“The LORD make His face shine upon thee and be gracious unto thee,” he replied.
“The LORD lift up His countenance upon thee and give thee peace.”
He brushed my cheek and tried to smile. “Don’t cry, or I won’t leave.”
Tears dripped to my lips. “David, you’ll come for me, won’t you?”
“Yes, yes. I promise.” His throat rippled, and he kissed me on the temple.
“I love you, David.”
“I… do, too.” His gaze held mine, unblinking, and he lowered himself slowly.
Tears streamed down my face as I held onto the taut rope of sheets. He dropped onto the rock pile with a slap of his sandals and waved. I yanked the sheets up as he ran toward the hills. My last glimpse was a flash of copper swallowed by the murky tree line.
Footsteps outside the door roused me to action. I rolled an Asherah pole carved from cedar, a wedding present, onto the bed. After I untied the bed sheets, I arranged the idol of the goddess with a pillow of goat’s hair, ruffling it to resemble David’s. I covered everything with a blanket and sat down in the corner of my room. David, David, my love. Where are you now? I should have gone with you. When will I see you again?
A few minutes later, a voice shouted through the door. “David, son of Jesse, the king summons you!”
I opened the door a crack, putting on a stiff and imperious expression. “What is the meaning of this? He’s ill and should not be disturbed.”
The two guards in the front craned a look over my shoulder. They backed away. “Sorry, Princess.”
I shut the door and bent on my knees. O LORD God, be with David, don’t let Father’s men find him. How fast can he run? Please, dear God, let David get away safely.
Unable to sleep, I watched the morning star fade into the horizon and the rosy cone of dawn glow in the east. I prayed David had found shelter. Rough footsteps approached the door.
“Why has he not responded to my summons?” Father’s voice boomed down the hallway.
“He’s ill, my king,” one of the guards said.
“I don’t care. He won’t be ill when he’s dead.”
Father ordered his servants to break the door down. I cowered in the corner while he rushed in, raised his javelin and plunged it into the figure.
The shock of cracking wood jolted his wrist, and he roared with anger. He grabbed me and shook me. “Why have you deceived me and helped my enemy to escape?”
In one motion, he held me over the window. “You daughter of a perverse woman, how dare you turn against me? Answer me or I’ll throw you to the wolves.”
I latched onto his shoulders and cried, “He… he… said to let him go, or he’d kill me. Father, I’m sorry. I was scared.”
“Ungrateful daughter.” He pulled me from the window and slammed me against the wooden figure.
My head buzzed with dizziness, and my ribcage radiated sharp pain. I hugged the wooden goddess and cried into the goat-hair pillow. Oh, why did I lie about David? He would never have hurt me. Oh, God, forgive me.
Part II
Chapter 8
Lamentations 3:49 Mine eye trickleth down, and ceaseth not, without any intermission.
>>><<<
David’s sandals squelched on the muddy path. Everything had happened too fast. Michal’s sad farewell echoed in his ear. She had clutched the window frame, her face contorted, her knuckles white. A single teardrop had fallen on his nose. He ran until his sides ached and his legs burned. Would he ever see her again? Could he steal her away someday?
The day dawned, drizzly and grey. A shepherd boy pointed him to Samuel the Prophet’s house, a small mud-brick structure surrounded by old-growth oaks. Plastered with rain and sweat, David knocked on the door.
A servant opened it. “Who disturbs the prophet at this hour? Know you not how late he stayed at the sacrifice?”
David lowered his head. “Pray tell him his servant David is in need of him. But do not wake him on my account. I can wait.”
A shuffle and a grunt greeted him. “Oh, my bones. David, son of Jesse.”
David bowed to the dirt floor. “Great Prophet, I am running for my life.”
“Stand, my boy. So, marriage to a princess does not suit you?” He chuckled and called his servant, “Bring some towels, a change of clothing and some food.”
After David changed out of his wet clothes, he sat at a table piled with scrolls.
“My son,” Samuel said. “What troubles you?”
“King Saul wants my life, but I have not done anything to warrant it.”
Samuel huffed and shifted his weight. “I’m not surprised. He must know God has chosen you to be the next king.”
“But how? My wife did not tell him. She said she’d keep my secret. And the only other person who knows is Jonathan, my best friend.”
“Well, it’s the only explanation. Otherwise, why kill you? You’ve led his troops to victory, served him loyally, even married his daughter, although regrettably, it seems.”
David squeezed his eyes shut and rolled his head in his hands. “Why would you say that?”
The prophet wagged his staff. “Let this be a lesson to you. Do not let women enwrap you with their charms. Remember Samson.”
“Michal would never betray me.”
Samuel’s eyes narrowed. “Think Delilah told Samson the truth?”
A cloud of doubt dampened David’s face. He gripped the side of the table. It’s impossible. She loves me, she’s mine. I’m sure of it.
Samuel leaned on his staff and clunked to the shelf. He picked up a scroll and opened it. “My son, read from the Word of the LORD daily. Meditate on it and pray. The LORD will lead you. The road to your kingdom does not go through Saul. God has rejected Saul and his entire house. He has chosen you.”
A sharp pain stabbed David’s heart. Michal? Rejected by God? No! But God spoke through prophets. If Samuel was right…
He kneaded the bridge of his nose. “The LORD has not told me exactly what to do.”
“You must trust Him and wait on His timing. Do not trust in man. Forget about them. They’ve shown you how wicked they are.”
“Not Michal. She saved my life.”
“She is his seed. The seed of the serpent should not mix with the sons of God.” Samuel patted his shoulder. “The LORD will lead you one step at a time. Do not keep company with the evil and wicked. Be not overcome with evil, but overcome evil with good. Keep your heart pure and love God above all else.”
The door shook with heavy pounding. “Open up. The king demands the return of his servant.”
David glanced around, but there was no place to hide in the sparse one-room house.
Samuel answered the door, gazed at the sky, and raised his staff. An unseen power knocked the ten men to the ground. They rolled in the wet earth and chanted, “Praise the LORD, give praise to His glory, and to His mercy and loving-kindness.”
David’s eyes widened, awed at the display of God’s power. After the men departed, Samuel’s servant gave him a pack of food and a bundle with his wet clothes.
“You must go now, my son,” Samuel said. “And may the LORD bless you and keep you. May He make his face shine upon you and grant you peace.”
* * *
I paced my room, stopping at the window at the end of each circuit. Had David eluded my father’s guards? They had taken off on horseback in all four directions. David had no weapon, nothing but the clothes he wore. Had he found shelter? It had rained all night.
The throbbing in my head clamored louder and louder. What could I have done? Why didn’t I pack him a bag of food? If I had distracted the guard, he might have gotten to the stables and grabbed a horse, maybe even found a weapon. I raked my hair and pinched my cheeks. The weight on my chest constricted my ribs, my breath squeezed in shallow puffs.
Alone, the hours passed. Naomi brought a platter of food. I picked at it and could not bring a morsel to my mouth. David. Alone in the wilderness, hungry and cold. I pushed the tray and leaned against the window. What did I expect to see? David on a white horse? Or my father’s men with David trussed like a spring lamb. Sapped and sleepless, I crumbled to the floor, my heart a hollow husk. Alone, without David.
His harp sat in the corner. While he was here, we had shared everything. He would place the harp on my thighs, encircle me with his arms. Our voices would blend, flirt around the melody and dance in harmony. His warm breath would caress my neck and he’d gaze in my eyes. Plucking a few strings, I picked a chord. It sounded listless, dull, dead.
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