We returned from Adriel’s burial. The boys clung to me, Phalti, and Naomi, their faces like stone, their cries muffled and weak.
After we put them down to nap, I sat with Phalti at the kitchen table. I rubbed my face with heavy hands. “What are we going to do? We have five boys under the age of five, two of them babies. Robbers and bandits rule the roads. I’m afraid.”
He poured me a cup of wine. “We’ll need to buy protection. There is no other choice. Or we move to Mahanaim under Abner’s protection.”
“Abner is fighting against God’s will. And our position is weaker by the day.” My hands shook as I took a deep draught. “The Philistines have taken all the territory Father once ruled. Perhaps if Abner would unite with David, we can drive out our enemies and restore Israel.”
“David?” Phalti glared at me. “He’s the cause of our problems. If he hadn’t allied with Achish, none of this would have happened. He’s the usurper and a vassal of the Philistines.”
I smacked the goblet down and stared at him. “No, he’s God’s anointed king. Many people are moving south to join him.”
“What you’re suggesting is treason. I’ll have no part in it.” He slammed the table so hard the wine goblet toppled and spilled over my robe.
“Look what you did.” I swiped my hands over the darkening red spot. “I’m only worried about the boys.”
“So am I. There’s too much farm work, and servants depart every week.” He put his head between his hands and pulled at his hair.
I touched his shoulder. “Perhaps we should ask David to grant us asylum.”
Phalti forcefully removed my hand. He narrowed his eyes. “Who do you take me for? An idiot? All I do is work hard to provide for you and your sons, and you want to go back to your precious David. Go, and I’ll have nothing to do with you.”
He stomped out of the room and slammed the door.
I blew out fear and sucked in anxiety until my head spun light and my fingers tingled. The children screamed, and the babies cried. I worked with Naomi to feed and change them. A nagging twinge dug into my heart. I should have considered Phalti’s feelings. He was a good man, too good for me. What if I lost him too?
* * *
I knocked on Phalti’s door. He had retired for the night without speaking to me.
“What is it?” he grumbled.
“May I come in? I want to talk.”
“If it’s about David, I have nothing to say.” The hurt crackled in his voice, gritty and tight.
“It’s not about him.” I opened the door and let myself in. He sat on his bed in his bedclothes and held his head between his hands.
“I’m sorry.” I shook him gently. “Please, I’m so sorry.”
“You don’t need to coddle me. I know how you feel.”
“How can you when I don’t even know?” I laid my head on his shoulder. He had grown muscular from the hard labor on Adriel’s farm. His presence comforted me, and his scent was clean like warm leather.
I stroked his beard. “Phalti, kiss me.”
His head snapped back and one side of his face twitched. His lip curled in a tight line. “No. I won’t touch you unless David puts you away. I made a vow.”
“David will never grant me a divorce. He also made a vow.”
“Then leave me alone.” He ignored my roving hands, his voice tight and constricted, barely above a whisper.
My fingers tightened on his shoulders. “Tell me you hate me.”
“I don’t hate you.”
“But you yelled at me. You said you didn’t care.”
“You want to leave and go to David, don’t you?”
“We’ll go as a family. It’s only to seek asylum, not as his wife. It would be temporary until the civil war is over. It’s not safe here, and I’m scared.”
“Would you stay with me if David wanted you?” He crossed his arms and stared at me, his eyes hard as flint.
“He doesn’t want me. He’s forgotten me.”
The edge of his jaw quivered. “That wasn’t what I asked, and you know it.”
“You used to care about me. You used to be my friend. Why are you so cold now?”
Phalti grunted and pulled my face to his. “Answer my question first.” His voice deepened as he held my gaze.
I lowered my eyes, unable to feel anything but a hollow sense of loss. I wanted to love him, maybe even care for him, but my emotions were sealed like ointment in a fragile clay jar. David could come for me at any moment. Then what would I do?
He pulled away. “I thought so.”
My body shook with the pain of his rejection. “Phalti, please. Don’t turn your back on me. I need you.”
“You need me like you need a mule. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of my children. I adopted them, and I’ll provide for them. You’ve no love for me, and I’ve known it for a long time.”
Not true. Definitely not true. My chest ached, and my nerves screamed for him. I wrapped my arms around his hardened body. “You’re hurting my feelings.”
“What are you trying to do?”
“Tell me you still care—that you’re still my friend. I want you, Phalti, to want me. I need you.” To love me because I think I’m falling in love with you.
“You don’t want me.”
I pulled his head and pressed my lips against his. He groaned and opened his mouth, and I tangled with him. A wall of heat rushed me, surprising me with its fury. We sunk onto the bed.
“I want you to take me now.” I tore open my robe and moved my hands under his tunic.
“No.” He jerked out of my grasp. “You want to seduce me, so I will take you to David. You care nothing for me. Witch.”
His teeth clenched, he wrapped a blanket around me and shoved me out the door.
“That’s not it. That’s not it.” Pain shot through my fists as I pounded on the door. “Phalti, talk to me.”
An agonizing chill roiled my heart. He had misunderstood me and no longer loved me.
The babies cried in hunger. I fumbled with them. Everything was twice as hard without Phalti’s help. I did not call out. Sobbing and exhausted, I sunk back into bed, a baby at each breast.
Sometime during the night, Phalti put the babies in their cradles and covered me with a blanket. His touch lingered, but when I opened my eyes, he was gone. An oppressive, suffocating pain sat like a stone on my chest.
I rose and lit an oil lamp. I found a scrap of parchment under my bed and scribbled a note, addressing it to Abigail, wife of Nabal, in Carmel. I couldn’t write David’s name with the civil war going on, but I hoped Abigail would pass my note to David. Phalti had rejected me, and I had no one I could trust.
I sent the note through a special courier, paying him with a precious gem that had belonged to my mother.
* * *
Naomi and I busied ourselves with the babies while Phalti went to town to deliver scrolls and letters. Joel and Gaddiel ran around the table in circles, fighting and squalling. Eliah tugged on my skirt to be picked up.
The front gate banged, and the gatekeeper’s grandson ran into the kitchen. “Another bandit.”
Naomi snapped her fingers. The three older boys hurried to their rooms and hid under their beds as we had practiced.
My heart thudding, I tucked the babies in their cradles and stepped into the courtyard. “What do you want?”
A rough voice yelled. “Open up. We’re hungry.”
“How many are there?” I pushed the boy to the wall to peek.
The old gatekeeper shuffled to the gate and yelled, “Be gone. There’s no disturbing good folk with this noise.”
“We’re just hungry. We won’t hurt anyone.”
The boy returned. “One man and two women. The man has a knife, but the women are covered. I can’t tell if they’re armed.”
“Get an omer of barley and a basket of raisins,” I said. “That should be enough.”
I yelled over the gate, “We’ll lower food over the wall. Now, be
gone.”
“God bless you, lady.” The man’s voice softened as the boy tied the basket of grain and raisins and let it down over the wall.
Naomi tugged my sleeve. “Are we leaving soon?”
“I don’t know. It depends if I can trust David or not. I’ve secretly sent a message with a courier to his wife Abigail telling him where we are.”
“How is he going to come for us? We have five children, two of them babies. Shouldn’t we go to your brother’s house? I’m sure he has plenty of guards.”
“They can’t keep us safe. Ishby is king in name only. Abner’s the one with the power, but he’s fighting against the LORD. David promised me when he became king, he would fetch me and take care of me forever.”
A scowl sharpened her face. “Well, he’s not king around these parts. People here hate him, especially since he allies with foreign kings against Israel.”
I sighed. “David does what he has to do.”
The door opened. Phalti stomped across the room glaring at me. “You’re still here? What happened to your savior? How many months has he been king already? Oh, that’s right. You must still be waiting for him to remember you.”
He stalked out the back door toward the fields. His shouting woke the babies and scared the three older boys. Their screams pealed through my nerves. By the end of the day, Naomi and I dragged our feet, utterly exhausted. She had flour in her hair, and my dress was stained with spilled juice, food particles and dripping milk.
“Naomi,” I wheezed, “I’ve decided. Tomorrow, I’m sending a message to my brother to ask him to move us to Mahanaim. He should still have servants to help us with the work.”
There was no sense waiting for David to send Ittai. We could all be killed before he arrived. I would leave a note with the gatekeeper directing him to Mahanaim.
She slumped over my shoulder with a dishrag. “I agree with you. Another day like this and we’ll both be raving mad.”
After I settled the babies and kissed the boys good night, I dug through Phalti’s writing table to find a reed and parchment. I hadn’t helped him with his business since my babies were born. I shoved aside a few scrolls in progress and could not find a single piece I could use. I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand and blinked back tears. I did not want to bother Phalti. He hated me and could barely stand the sight of me.
“Michal?” Phalti’s pinched voice bent over my shoulder. “What are you doing in my things?”
“Looking for a piece of parchment and a reed.”
He crossed his arms. “Look elsewhere.”
I brushed past him and stumbled to my room. Must he be so cruel? I lit a lamp and rummaged through my things. Jonathan’s blood encrusted leather sleeve held pieces of scripture he had hand copied. I untied the leather straps and pulled out the contents. I smoothed out a few scraps of parchment to find something usable. The script jumped at me. David’s.
I held the scraps to the light.
My dearest Michal, I wonder if you’re thinking of me. I’m sitting deep in a cave writing this by the light of a lamp. I will ask your brother to help you escape. I cannot wait to hold you in my arms again, your loving husband, David.
Pain flooded my soul. My breathing in spurts, I picked up another scrap.
My dearest Michal, why have you not written? Give me a sign. Let me know you still care for me. I despair of ever seeing you again. I miss you. Your David.
A choking sob screamed in my throat. “No. Why? Oh, God. Why?”
Michal, I’m leaving Israel. Remember me, always. David.
I flung through other scraps. David. I had broken his heart, and he’d given up on me. It had always been my fault. I crumpled to the ground and ripped at my hair, wishing my heart would die, that the pain would drain to the last drop of blood.
“Michal? Are you all right?” Phalti placed me on my bed. He picked up the scraps. His face white and his jaw slack, he put the pieces back into the sleeve.
He sat at my side. “Did you still want parchment? Do you want me to write a message for you?”
“Please.” My mouth was so dry I could barely dictate. “Ask Ishbaal to send carts and fetch me, my maid and my sons. I need his protection.”
He scribbled the message. “I’ll deliver it myself. You don’t want me to come?”
I took his large hand and rubbed his palms. “You’re too good to me. It’ll be better if you stayed away from me. You deserve someone better. I’m sorry it turned out this way.”
I turned away from him and floated past pain into an expanse of numb emptiness.
In a week’s time, Ishbaal sent men and carts. Phalti remained cold and distant, although he did come to see us off. He kissed the older boys. He didn’t bother with the babies because it would mean getting too close to me, and they were too young to know him.
He stood in the middle of the road, his arms crossed, and stared at me until I was too far to see him. What are you thinking, Phalti? Please don’t hate me. Each turn of the wheel took me farther and farther from him.
Chapter 20
Proverbs 30:18-19 There be three things which are too wonderful for me, yea, four which I know not: The way of an eagle in the air; the way of a serpent upon a rock; the way of a ship in the midst of the sea; and the way of a man with a maid.
>>><<<
The sound of hoof beats alerted me. I scooted to the edge of the ox-cart. A burly man with flowing black hair appeared in a cloud of dust on a black horse. His partner, slim and sandy-haired, drew a knife and jumped off a roan horse.
“Who goes there?” The two guards my brother sent stepped forward.
The black-haired man brandished his sword and dismounted. “Unhand the princess and nobody dies.”
My pulse racing, I drew my shawl over my face. Two guards and the man who drove the ox-cart; the odds were about even. I didn’t factor in the gatekeeper’s grandson. He came along for the joy ride.
“There’s no princess here. Just a couple of maids,” the older guard said.
The black-haired man scanned us. I huddled with the boys, urging them to keep their heads down.
“Back off.” The guard yelled and pointed his spear at the black-haired man.
The black-haired man swung his sword. The guard thrust his spear and missed. The attacker sliced the guard’s arms with a down stroke and jerked his sword around, cutting open the man’s abdomen. Blood and entrails gushed out of the guard, and he fell to the ground. Naomi whimpered, holding onto Eliah, who cried and threw up. The two older boys made exclamations of disgust.
The younger guard’s spear wobbled in front of him as he stared at the black-haired man.
The second attacker booted the younger guard in the behind and threw him off balance. His spear tip grazed the ground, and the black-haired man sliced his neck open.
Acid shot into my throat. I covered my sleeping babies, one in each arm. The driver fled, and the gatekeeper’s grandson cowered beneath the wagon.
The black-haired man wiped his sword on his accomplice’s robe. Footsteps crackled on the leaf-strewn road. Around me, my boys blubbered and clung to me and Naomi.
My hair was yanked and my scarf pulled off.
“Is this she?”
The gatekeeper’s boy crawled from under the wagon and nodded. The black-haired man threw him a coin, and the boy sprinted away. He grabbed my face and stared. “Ah, just as they said. Green eyes with brown flecks. I got you now.”
He swung me around by my waist while his partner pried my screaming babies out of my arms and handed them to Naomi.
“No, no! My babies, my babies.” I kicked and struggled, but the big man’s grip tightened like bands of iron. “Who are you? Where are you taking me?”
The black-haired man squeezed my cheeks and yanked me to his horse. “You either cooperate, and I’ll let your babies live, or I can kill them now.”
“Let me have my babies, then I’ll cooperate.”
“Do we look like nursemaids?” His yo
ung partner snorted. Naomi and my boys stared wide-eyed, stranded on the cart. My babies squealed and cried.
My attacker pushed me belly down onto the horse and jumped on behind me, pinning me with his strong hand.
I flailed and grabbed at his legs. “Please… I beg you.”
His punch caught me between the shoulder blades and knocked the wind out of me. “Shut your mouth, or I’ll kill all of them.”
He pressed down harder while I struggled for breath. “You’ll either ride on your belly like a sack of barley, or you can be nice and sit with me.”
My hardened breasts, full of milk, screamed with pain. “I’ll sit up and cooperate, but where are you taking me?” I crawled into a more comfortable position.
“I didn’t say you could talk.” He snapped the reins, and we galloped away
My babies’ screams faded in the distance.
The man whistled as the miles rolled by. My stomach lurched to the beat of the horse’s hooves, and my aching head jiggled against the man’s shoulder. Who was he? Where was he taking me? He was heavily perfumed with myrrh and balsam, and his hair and beard were richly oiled. His clothing showed him a man of wealth.
One hand clamped around my waist, he fingered my temple and neck with the other hand. “Daughter of Saul, for years, men have sought you. They’ve scoured the known world looking for you. But you had disappeared. Some said you died in Philistia, others that you ran off to Egypt with the young Philistine prince. Who would have thought you a nurse to your sister’s babies, married to a poor scribe in the countryside?”
“What do you want with me?” I said.
“You? You’re the key to the kingdom of Israel. The man who has the daughter of Saul can take the crown.”
“You’re putting too much worth on me. As you said, I’m a backwater housewife.”
He cupped my face and turned it. “Oh, no. You’re still a beauty. And he’ll make the trade and reward me handsomely.”
“Who?”
He laughed so hard, his chest thundered into my back. “Your husband David, of course. Without you, he cannot unite the tribes. Eleven tribes back your brother. Only Judah rebelled. They’re fighting because David wants your father’s crown. All we have to do is get there before the other princess.”
Michal's Window Page 20
