by Cliff Graham
David raised his hands over his head and stretched his shoulders, then jumped up and down a few times. “Still feeling that stiffness in my arm, Josheb,” he said.
“You should have listened to me and soaked it for three days in that oil bath,” Josheb answered. Josheb usually voiced the concerns of the others. It fell to him to be David’s right hand and to ensure that not only were the Giborrim ready at all times, but also their king.
“You speak like Abigail,” David said.
“I don’t care if I sound like that cackling hen married to the palace baker. You need to be ready to fight, and you are not. It would be excusable if you were copying a scroll of the Law to read every day, as Yahweh commands his king to do. But you’re not.”
David ignored him and looked at Shammah. “What do you think about this new alliance?”
“I have not been here long, but from what I have seen, the Giborrim and the mercenaries are fine with the idea of a new people’s army. They just don’t want to have to fight with them,” Shammah said in his low, rumbling tone. He had returned from a scouting mission on the Ammonite border the day before and missed most of the activity going on in Hebron since the coronation.
David sighed. “From what I can tell, the people cannot wait to fight their king’s battles. You three will have them ready soon. No one will move against us yet; we have some time. Anything else from the kings of Ammon and Moab?”
Josheb shook his head. “Not yet. But I suggest you consolidate your power inside of Israel first before looking at foreign alliances. Again, as Yahweh wants his king to do. Philistines are crawling over our lands like ants, and they will not accept that you are going to remain a loyal vassal.”
“I like your idea about forming new regiments, Eleazar,” David said.
“A necessary precaution. The northern elders support you because you are the only man with the means to defeat the Philistines. It is either submission to you or rape and murder from the Philistines. They probably don’t fully trust you, nor the highly paid army that is loyal only to you. Especially since you have surrounded yourself with foreigners and not Hebrews. The northerners are somewhat appeased by how you handled Abner’s murder, but it will take a while for them to forget the last few years of seeing their sons butchered at the hands of your warriors.”
“We never killed that many. All of you at the pool of Gibeon spilled the most blood, and I was nowhere near there.”
“Yes, you were nowhere near there — and therefore your nephew instigated that battle,” said Josheb.
“Abner killed Asahel; Joab was not entirely in the wrong.”
“After the battle began, and after Asahel chased him down to kill him,” Josheb corrected.
David nudged a pillow with his foot impatiently and rubbed his eyes. “This has nothing to do with what concerns us right now. Our people have been a barbaric nation of petty tribal alliances for too long. We need to join the civilized nations and create stronger rule from the throne. The Egyptians have an efficient means of ruling their people —”
“The men have not seen you in a while,” said Josheb.
“I have been busy,” David replied, irritated.
“Not that busy,” Josheb held firm.
That was all it took.
“Stay in your fighting position, Josheb, and leave governing to me,” David said, his voice quaking with anger. He walked to the window and looked out over his city.
Eleazar knew that Josheb was the only one who could get away with such insubordination.
Josheb waited a moment before responding. “Your arm was injured during basic sparring. Never, for as long as I have known you, have you ever injured yourself in simple training. Only weak, out-of-shape new recruits injure themselves during training. You find every excuse to delay your battle drills with me —”
“I said stay in your area!”
“— and you will keep injuring yourself and finding more excuses not to train, and the men will continue to grow fat and lazy —”
David whirled and glared at him. “It is your job to make sure they are not fat and lazy! Whom do you serve? You all sound like you have forgotten who you are. I have too many pressing matters around here —”
“None more pressing than the welfare of your men! Jonathan is gone! He lies in Sheol, and he will fight with you no more. Stop dishonoring his memory!”
Josheb had shouted the rebuke so loudly that the council door broke open and two members of the bodyguard entered with bows drawn. David waved them off. Warily, they retreated and shut the door behind them.
David glared at Josheb, and Josheb glared back at him. David had only to say the word and Josheb would be put to death for this affront. Eleazar waited for another outburst.
But none came.
Instead, David’s features softened. He rubbed his eyes and sat back down on his rug. He reclined, then curled into a position a child might take if they had been scolded by a parent.
That response shocked Eleazar. Josheb’s face registered the same response. He cleared his throat. “Lord, I want —”
“You are right, of course.” David’s voice was muffled by the pillow his head rested on.
“But I had no right to bring up Jonathan. I know how that hurt you. Forgive me.”
Eleazar waited. The room was silent. Outside the door he could hear the continued murmur of the other members of the war council as they discussed their politics and alliances and interests, all bringing ambition to the table, all focused on something other than the kingdom’s best interests. All bringing a request to the king, or a complaint, all wanting power and position. And though they all heard this, there was nothing but silence in the room.
Keth eased his head up just enough to see down the canyon and count the Philistine force approaching. The morning skirmish had left him and Benaiah wary and watchful, and as they crossed a second ridge of the desert hills after fleeing the tent village of the tribal warlord, the first company of Philistine troops emerged from hiding a short distance from the trade road and pursued them.
This confirmed to Keth that they had not expected only two men to come on such an envoy. Their commander would not have prepared a counterattack for a failed ambush if he was facing only two men. Instead, he’d have assumed that the ambush squad in the tent would be sufficient.
Clearly, he had not expected David’s Giborrim.
Keth counted the squads, organized by tens as the Philistines occasionally preferred. There were eighty men in the company moving up a small draw — away from Benaiah and Keth. The false trail he and Benaiah had lain was working; either the Philistine commander was new to this type of warfare or he was unskilled as a tracker and had not supplemented his force with men who were.
Keth sat back down. It was probable that the Philistine commander would eventually return and slaughter the Hebrews remaining in the village. There was nothing he and Benaiah could do about it. Keth held his breath for a few seconds, then exhaled deeply to calm his nerves. Next to him, Benaiah was rubbing dust onto the handles of his weapons for grip.
“Where should we go?” he whispered.
Benaiah replied, “Hebron. We have to get back and warn David. This country is probably covered with Philistines. If the Levite garrisons have been as neglected as our spies reported last month, Philistia could slip thousands of troops into the Rephaim or Jezreel valleys without being contested. The northern kingdom would be cut off from Judah.”
“Levites are supposed to be priests, not garrison commanders.”
“That’s why I tell people I am of Judah.”
“David has not been crowned more than a fortnight. How could they muster so quickly?”
“A spy in the court could have tipped them off that it was coming weeks ago. Maybe even among the Thirty. That last Philistine we killed knew much about what’s been happening at court, and about our level of military readiness. Josheb and the others have been suspecting a spy.”
“Joab or Abishai?” Ke
th asked.
“Possible, but unlikely. Joab schemes to stay in David’s favor, and Abishai would never support treason. The real problem is that we have no idea how organized the northern armies are anymore. We have all of this new territory but are not prepared to defend it.”
“Then I think we need to assume that war has already broken out and go straight to the caves. David may already be there. How else can he stop the Philistines from invading Judah?”
“He won’t mobilize until he knows what he is facing.”
Keth heard Benaiah sigh, likely frustrated anew that David kept sending him away for these missions. Why even have a bodyguard?
Finished with his weapons, Benaiah wrapped them back up in the leather and tied it around his shoulders securely. The exertions of the previous hour had left the grips slick with sweat, and Keth knew how paranoid Benaiah was about a slick grip. It had been thus since the time he had slain a man-eating lion in an old hunter’s pit trap. Benaiah had told him that the handle of the spear he was using was so slick from the blood and sweat of their fight that he was unable to hold the weapon firmly.
Keth looked at the jagged flesh at the edge of Benaiah’s dark hair, briefly wondering what it would have been like in the pit with a monster like that. He shook his head. “We should go to the caves,” he said, patiently prodding Benaiah.
“He might remain at Hebron,” answered Benaiah.
“He will need to defend the passes. We can’t let Philistia isolate us from the north.”
“You go to the passes or the caves or wherever you feel is best. I am going straight back to Hebron,” Benaiah snapped.
Keth lowered his eyes. “I know your wife is in Hebron, but that is not Ziklag. Brave men guard the city. Trust them. The caves are between us and Hebron. If David and his army are not there, we can continue to the city.”
Benaiah inhaled sharply, then apparently thought better of lashing out at his friend again. Keth knew that after several disasters while Benaiah was away, including a long-ago raid where Amalekites killed his daughters and raped his wife, Benaiah would not leave her alone when there was a threat.
“Is she well?” Keth ventured.
Benaiah shrugged his shoulders and nodded.
“Your sons?”
Benaiah nodded again. “They looked a lot more like her than me before we left.”
“Praise Yahweh for that.”
Benaiah looked away to hide his grin. “Hopefully they still do. I am worried that they will look like me. No woman will take them.”
“Eleazar mentioned that he wanted to betroth two of his daughters to them,” Keth said as he shifted his back against the rock. He held out a piece of dried goat meat, which Benaiah took and promptly bit off a piece.
“Good. Maybe then I will get the money he owes me.”
“I think we should go to the caves first, brother, and then return to Hebron from there if nothing is happening. It is not too far out of the way. But I am with you in whatever you decide.”
Benaiah leaned over and looked down the valley. It was clear of Philistines at last. “There are far too many soldiers out here just to assassinate tribal leaders. I think troops are converging from the Philistine outposts.”
“To where?” asked Keth.
“If they are invading, it will be Pas Dammim, in the Elah Valley.”
“Decide, my friend. We are going to run out of water soon. None of the streams are flowing, and we don’t have time to dig.”
Benaiah nodded. Keth watched him scratch his head thoughtfully.
Then he was up and moving. “The caves,” he said, and Keth followed him.
David rolled over and faced the three of them again. He fumbled with a fig in the bowl and tossed it into his mouth. Eleazar saw such age and weariness in his countenance that he thought once more how remarkable it was that David was only thirty years old. Each man present and nearly all of the senior commanders of his army were at least seven years older than him.
“What else?” he continued.
It was as though the confrontation had never happened. Eleazar glanced at Josheb, who seemed content. At least the necessary words had been spoken. Whether they were heeded was between the king and Yahweh.
“Your men in the towns of Judah are setting about preparing their own units for the next campaign season,” Josheb answered, extending a peace offering to his king, which David accepted with a gentle nod of his head.
The gedud, some of David’s old outlaw companions, had been placed throughout the land of Judah as the administrators and landowners of sizeable populations. This rewarded them for their service and was also a clever way for David to protect his interests, since they would be battling over the fate of their homes if an invasion ever took place. The lands of Judah had become a mixing bowl of different nations and tribes who had been aligned under the service of David; the actual tribe of Judah was proud of their native son but wary about the influence of so many foreigners as their leaders.
“The drought is destroying all the crops in the land. Only a handful of towns where the wells have not dried up yet have clean drinking water. Philistine garrisons are everywhere in the north and have taken over many of those wells,” Shammah said.
“Has it really become that bad?”
“The worst I have ever seen. The water that does run is bitter and foul. It would poison any man or cow who drank from it. Yahweh has cursed the land.”
Shammah was not given to exaggeration, so if he said it was bad, Eleazar knew it was dire.
“The farmers?”
“Unable to irrigate. No streams are flowing. The Philistines …” Shammah hesitated. “The Philistines have reinforced their garrison at Bethlehem.”
At the mention of his hometown, David closed his eyes. It was a while before he spoke again.
“How long have Benaiah and Keth been gone?”
“Over a week,” said Josheb. “They don’t know about Abner. Benaiah won’t take the news well. Especially since it was Joab.”
“I pray they can convince the apiru leaders to join us. We need them. Warlords are more trustworthy than those scoundrels,” David said, gesturing with his head toward the hallway, where the tribal elders and leaders from the north were still talking.
“What do you plan on doing about Joab and Abishai? The northerners won’t fight under them,” Eleazar asked, only a little hesitant to bring it up again.
“I am working on that. Give me time.”
“Killing Abner was inexcusable. Joab should be executed,” Eleazar said plainly.
“I told you — he is too powerful now. I can’t just kill him. Too many men of Judah are loyal to him. There are many powerful commanders who approved of what Joab did. Tribal fighting. Yahweh forgive us, it will be our undoing.”
“We still need to do something about them,” Josheb said.
“There will be an opportunity.”
David paced, thinking. The other three waited.
“The new army will be composed of two corps. One corps will be drawn from the people, north and south. We will set it up as Eleazar has recommended. The other corps will have the mercenaries and the Giborrim. I will think about what to do with Joab and Abishai. Go get your midday meal.”
The Three left the chamber.
TWELVE
On the edge of the Israelite hill country, a Philistine named Ittai was daydreaming.
In his dream he saw a dark sky and a darker ocean, with waves that roared around his head like a predator chasing prey. The waves grew higher and higher, and he was clinging to something, a stray piece of wood perhaps, but it kept sliding out of his grasp before turning into a serpent. He swam as hard as he could, pulling his hands frantically through the growing waves, trying to outswim the serpent and the monster that lurked beneath the waves — the monster his father had warned him of, the one who would pursue him always.
And then the daydream ended the same way his dreams at night ended, with the waves fading to blackness;
a long quiet, the cool of the dark, and then he would awaken.
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he watched the large, solid clouds billowing upward over the Great Sea and wondered if the drought over the land of the Israelites was finally going to break. If it did, it would make their task of moving an army into the mountains that much more difficult.
Ittai made his way to the edge of the camp, nodding at a couple of guards who snapped their feet together as he walked past. When he came to the clearing where they kept prisoners, he saw two Hebrew women lying on their backs with their ankles and wrists fastened to stakes. Their garments had been torn apart and their bodies exposed. Blood pooled beneath them. It was obvious that a number of soldiers had been taking turns with them.
“How many went through before it was stopped?” he asked the nearest guard.
“A dozen or so, lord. These aren’t lasting as long as the others.”
Ittai nodded. The only way to prevent men from abandoning an attack on a town in order to rape captives was to get it out of the way early. Depending on how long these two stayed alive, most of a regiment could take their turn and be satiated. After every platoon of soldiers had raped them, the women were given a rest so that they didn’t pass out from shock or, worse, die. Then they’d have to find more, and he had other things to worry about.
They looked at him now. Empty expressions. All tears had been cried.
Ittai was nearly thirty-five and had strong, broad shoulders from years of drawing the long bow. His beard was short and neatly trimmed, an indication of his willingness to adopt the methods of other nations when it came to keeping himself fit for war. He wore a full set of armor custom forged to his body by the best smith in the land. His eyes searched the surrounding countryside constantly. His only physical flaw was the fragment of his ear that had been removed by a poorly aimed Ammonite war axe.
He was standing at the entrance of the valley the Hebrews referred to as Elah, a wide field leading into the hill country, traversed by a trade road following a dry creek bed. The army encamped here was vast. Not the largest force he had seen, but much larger than the typical hastily mustered gathering of battalions that usually preceded invasions into Hebrew lands. The garrisons at the seaports had been notified. Regional kings were sending what they could in the way of military support with promises of even more once it had been proven that the Hebrew vassal David was trying to break his yoke.
