Covenant of War

by Cliff Graham

  “Everyone else spoke up after I did!”

  “But you’re new.”

  “What difference does that make? I’ll be a member of the Giborrim one day.”

  “You are in training to be a part of the Giborrim. You were in the presence of the king, the Three, and the Thirty only because you are assigned to me for your testing. Your opinions on military matters don’t matter to anyone but your mother.”

  Then Gareb strode down the hallway with Eliam behind him, knowing he had much to do and only one hour to do it in.

  Eleazar stood with Josheb and Shammah outside in the courtyard.

  “You run the fastest, Eleazar,” Josheb said. “You need to get down there and give us a proper scouting report before we bumble into the valley with five hundred new recruits who don’t know their manhood from their sword. Shammah, you deliver the news to Joab that we are leaving tonight. He needs to organize the army when it starts arriving after the messengers have warned the people.”

  “David has banned Joab,” said Shammah.

  “No one else is capable of standing up an entire army within a week and marching it to Jebus to begin a siege.”

  David’s plan was to rush the Thirty and the remaining available troops into the Elah and Rephaim valleys to cut off the Philistine advance and buy time for the full army to reinforce them. Once the threat had been delayed they would besiege Jebus and establish a stronghold from which to battle the Philistines.

  That was the plan. But as Eleazar knew, most plans did not survive the first battle.

  Josheb looked at Eleazar. “After the march has been assembled and departs, you can rush to the valley and give us your scouting report. We will meet you at the caves tomorrow afternoon.”

  Eleazar nodded, then reached over and hugged his neck. Shammah wrapped his enormous arms around them as well. They remained silent for a moment.

  “Yahweh, you who spoke to our fathers Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and who gave Moses your divine Law, we do not trust our own skill, but your mighty hand,” Josheb said.

  Then they parted. Eleazar sprinted up the road that led to his house.

  TWENTY-TWO

  Joab walked down a fiery corridor. Flames were everywhere — torches on the walls, watch fires on the towers, heating coals in pits in the streets. But he moved into darkness, felt its cold grip, felt the rough leather of the dagger’s handle. Abishai was next to him, his breath frantic.

  At the end of the corridor ahead, he saw the figure of the man he hated. Closer now. Abner was smiling, smiling as though nothing had happened.

  Joab slowed his steps, and everything slowed with him; Abner’s arms raising for an embrace. Abishai rushing forward. The look of surprise on Abner’s face as Abishai grabbed his arm, and Joab slowly, slowly raised the blade and aimed the tip directly at Abner’s stomach, just under the ribcage where it would slash through to his treacherous heart.

  And Joab, nearly delirious, felt the warm blood pouring between his fingers, down his wrists, soaking his elbows.

  But Abner did not resist. Was almost expecting the blade.

  “Blood for blood,” Joab whispered to him, and Abner actually nodded.

  Abner lifted his hand and placed it on Joab’s neck. His grimace softened. Abner leaned and kissed Joab on the cheek. “Forgive me before I pass into Sheol,” he said.

  Abishai, suddenly remorseful, pulled Abner close, an embrace. Joab watched the old general fall, death claiming him …

  And then Joab was back in the room in Hebron with his brother, waiting. On the wall nearby a lamp burned low. The wick needed to be replaced.

  Joab rolled over and looked at his brother sitting in the corner. “Are you hungry?”

  “A little.”

  They reclined on the rug next to their food. Joab pulled off a chunk of bread and dipped it in olive oil.

  “David will come for us. He needs us,” he said.

  Abishai sighed. “What makes you think we deserve anything from him?”

  “He has punished us enough to make it look believable to the north. Secretly I’m sure he is grateful to us.”

  “He was truly angry.”

  Joab shrugged. “He’ll forget about it. We’re valuable to him.”

  “He’s going to order us killed. And he’d be right.”

  As he walked from the council, his thoughts consumed with the Philistine invasion, David took no notice of the display of the desert night overhead as he dropped the hood of his cloak, entering the darkened doorway of the small house at the edge of town. He hated his task. He hated a lot of things right now, but this was chief among them.

  The bodyguards who followed him took their positions at the corners of the building and crouched, out of sight, in the shadows. They would not follow him in, for this was a private matter.

  The house was owned by one of David’s officials who volunteered its use whenever the king wanted to conduct business of an unofficial nature. No one lived here, and no one even bothered to go near it — after all, it was known to be a former leper’s home. Which was nonsense, but it served to keep curious eyes away.

  The room was lit by a lamp stand with several low-wick lamps simmering in their dirty oil. The light was only just enough to provide a bronze glimpse at the room’s other furnishings: a rug, some half-empty bowls of food, and the two men who reclined next to them. They sat up as he entered.

  “Lord, we —”

  “Don’t speak. Listen first.”

  Joab sat back down. David pulled his cloak the rest of the way off his shoulders and tossed it onto the wall rack.

  “Your lives are spared. The northern elders will not ask for your execution in exchange for their oath of allegiance to me.”

  Both men shook with relief. They grinned and hugged one another, exhaling a coarse laugh.

  “I’m not done. You will not lead an army of mine. You will not be on my inner council. If I see either one of you consulting with any of the Giborrim without me present or speaking with any of the elders of Judah without my permission, I will have Benaiah execute you in front of the assembly, and your head will be buried inside the carcass of a pig. Your manhood will be cut off by women from the leper colony and fed to wild dogs.”

  David’s face was murderous, and he’d spoken with cold finality.

  “Lord, permission to speak?” Joab asked.

  “Go ahead.”

  He managed to steady his voice, the images of his detailed fate still fresh. “We regret every day our vengeance on Abner, but we have served our penance for the crime.”

  “No, you do not, and no, you have not. You would do it again immediately if he was still alive.”

  “But we do! Yes, we had hate in our heart because of the murder of our brother Asahel —”

  “It was the field of battle, it was not murder,” David snapped. “What you did was murder, and you ought to be stoned for it.”

  “But we know it was wrong and have proven ourselves loyal to you since that day!”

  David stared at him, incredulous. “Loyal to me? By murdering the greatest general in the Israelite army? What happened to Asahel was tragic, but we are outnumbered and surrounded by all of our enemies. Angering half the population of the kingdom does us what good?”

  Joab looked at his brother Abishai for support. The more reasonable and popular of the two, Abishai was respected a great deal, and David had been dismayed to hear of his involvement in the crime.

  “Lord, what we did was inexcusable,” Abishai said. “On the blood of our lives and our vow to Yahweh, we will serve you as we will serve our God, in whatever capacity you would have us serve. Mercy, sire.”

  David felt his anger cool a bit. “Philistines are moving up the Rephaim and into the Elah. They are going to isolate us from the north and then come for us here in Hebron. They are likely planning on going to Jebus as well to keep us from reaching it first. I am taking men up to the stronghold at Adullam in a few hours. You need to stay here to call the tribal le
vy together and organize reinforcements.”

  Joab’s face reddened. “Lord, please, you can’t expect us to just stay here while the pagans invade our lands. We are your best —”

  “You are fortunate that I am not ordering you to stay and learn the art of the weaving spindle from the women.”

  Joab had to stifle his outrage, but Abishai glared at him to shut him up.

  “Who will command the army?” Abishai asked.

  “I will until I find a replacement. Perhaps Benaiah.”

  This struck deep. Joab had to look away to hide the disgust on his face. David knew that Joab’s hatred for Benaiah was consuming. But even worse was being tasked with guarding the city while the army marched. No glory and riches came to the man who settled fights among the women at the well while the others were killing Philistines.

  David was satisfied. He knew it would sting Joab to hear Benaiah mentioned. “The only reason you two are alive is because half of Judah would rebel against me if something happened to you. They view your despicable, cowardly act as heroic. Since killing you would be unwise, you will stay behind with the women.”

  Joab lowered his face. David saw him clench his jaw several times. Abishai exhaled and nodded. And that was that. David stood. “We will stand up the people’s army in a few months, after this is over. If you have shown me by that time that you are truly repentant, you will get a chance to redeem yourselves, nephews.”

  Then he walked back out into the night.

  TWENTY-THREE

  Ittai checked the woods for ghosts.

  When he realized what he was doing, he sighed and rubbed his eyes. His jaw throbbed, giving him a constant headache. These forests were mysterious, and he’d heard the troops repeat the legends of the Hebrew god over and over all day long, until finally he’d declared that the next man to speak would be lashed.

  He’d tried to send a team after the two warriors who had ambushed them in the woods, but none of the men showed the heart for it. He cursed them and sent them back down into the valley, and when they arrived back at the camp, he forced them to take over the duties of the slaves making food for the army.

  Then Ittai made his way to the tent of the king of Gaza, the one ruler on this adventure who actually knew what he was doing. Ittai respected him, but he knew that it was the king of Gath who held the real power in the alliance. Both kings despised the Hebrews, but they had different ideas as to how to deal with the threat David posed.

  After Ittai made his report on the attack in the forest, the king of Gaza had sighed and walked over to a servant holding a pitcher of wine. He drained a cup and dabbed his mouth with the cloth on the servant’s arm.

  “Only two of them?”

  “Yes, lord king.”

  “We will need to move faster, then.”

  “Lord, he has mercenaries. The best. One of them attacked us today. I know him. A Hittite named Keth.”

  The king nodded thoughtfully. “David has acquired much gold in recent years. Much of it ours. Hebrews are backward and never organize into a proper standing army. He needs to buy an army.”

  “We need to move soon, lord king. In the morning. If he has more men like Keth of the Hittites fighting for him, it will go ill for your armies. Your spies should have known of such men.”

  “The foreigners have never been hidden from us. We knew he was recruiting them.”

  “But not men like Keth. Trust me, my lord, that is information you would have wanted to know before agreeing to come along.”

  “Our timing is perfect. David’s army is scattered. The northern tribes don’t fully trust him yet.”

  “Lord, men like Keth of the Hittites don’t need armies. If David has a force of the best foreign fighters in his employment, and they have been training and learning this country for the past seven years, our numbers and timing will have to be perfect.”

  “How do you know this Keth?”

  “He was in my unit during the civil wars ten years ago, when we were recruiting foreigners.” Intent on not divulging more, Ittai changed the subject. “It ought to shock us into movement if David knows we are coming. No more lying around fondling ourselves, lord.”

  Ittai knew that this king permitted him to speak freely. This ruler respected him and his skill and knew that he could be won over through loyalty. Ittai wanted to keep all of his options available should everything go wrong in his own city.

  He watched the king of Gaza walk to the center of the tent and sit down near a map that had been drawn by the most skilled artists in the land. The hide was beautifully tanned and the ink from the henna plant was thick and dark. The swells of the lowlands the Hebrews called Shephelah were drawn with exact detail of every ravine, every creek bed, every access point into the hills. The king poked at it with a staff. “You saw him here?”

  “Yes, lord.”

  “And you did not know the other one?”

  “No, lord, but I have an idea.”

  “Who? Was it he who wounded your face?”

  Ittai hesitated. “One of David’s Thirty named Benaiah. And yes, he wounded my face, lord. He was skilled. Much more so than other Hebrews.”

  “The lion killer.”

  Ittai had been expecting the king to chuckle and dismiss his words as the storytelling of women to children, but the king only stared at the map.

  “They were traveling south?”

  “Yes, lord king. They were trying to get through our lines. Normally when Hebrews ambush our troops, they strike and then withdraw in the direction they came. These two fought through to the other side and disappeared into a gorge near the valley.”

  “How long will it take them to get to Hebron to warn David?”

  “David already knows. He has military scouts positioned along the frontier of his lands.”

  The king smiled. “Follow me.”

  They stepped out into the late afternoon light and eventually arrived at the corral where some of the royal horses were usually kept. Ittai saw twenty Hebrew men, lying naked and soaked in blood.

  The king gestured to a servant, who pulled a rope fixed to a large animal hide. As the hide moved, it revealed a hole in the ground in the midst of the Hebrews. The ground started moving. Ittai squinted.

  Scorpions.

  Freed, the insects swarmed over the Hebrews, stinging them, and the men screamed in terror and pain. Scorpions crawled into their ears and mouths.

  Ittai watched, but all he could see was the face of his armor bearer bursting in a bloody mess. If he could, he would catch more scorpions to stuff into Hebrew mouths.

  “They will not be making any report to David,” the king said.

  “But what about civilians? Any shepherd or farmer could run back to Hebron and tell them we are coming.”

  “True, but they won’t know what they have seen. Philistines in the land? There are always Philistines in the land. David won’t mobilize an army unless a trained eye delivers a complete report. It will be too late by then. But these two warriors you fought with worry me. They have likely spied us out.”

  The scorpion-covered Hebrews were begging, pleading for death. The servant looked up at the king, who nodded. One by one, the servant brushed aside scorpions from each man and eviscerated him, pulling out the heart and liver for use in sacrifices.

  The priests would fire up the ceremonial kiln later that night, offering the hearts of their enemies to Dagon to ask for domination over the Israelites they hated.

  Now, Ittai sat back among the men in the shadows at the entrance of the Elah. Wary commanders quietly voiced their concern about ambush by more demons. Ittai rolled his eyes but remained quiet. If demons attacked, their weapons would be useless anyway.

  Everywhere he looked, he saw his armor bearer’s bloody face.

  Reclining on blankets next to a small cooking fire, he stabbed at a slab of beef from a butchered cow soldiers had found wandering by itself in a nearby Hebrew village. It fed the entire company heartily, and now men relaxed ne
ar their fires, satiated. But there was uneasiness in their ranks. The rumors about the forest ambush were starting to spread out of control.

  “I don’t suppose the kings have told you their plan, lord,” his new armor bearer said, sitting across from him. Ittai had picked him earlier. He seemed capable.

  “They have.”

  “What is it?”

  “The king of Gaza has ordered me to lead a battalion farther into the valley tomorrow in order to meet up with the Sword, coming in from that Hebrew pit called Bethlehem.”

  The armor bearer sat forward. “Should we tell the men? That will lift their spirits.”

  “Not yet, because the king of Gath cannot know about it. He will want the glory of the march. We are to slip out before sunrise, day after tomorrow.”

  “Any further word from the spies?”

  “None. Whoever in David’s court has been informing our kings has been silent for weeks.”

  “What if the Hebrew king has an entire army on the other side of those hills? David may have sniffed out the spy and could be using him to spread false information to lure us into a trap.”

  Ittai shook his head. “I am told that David spends more time in his harem than scheming with his generals. We have them completely off guard.”

  “What if they have an entire army full of warriors like those two?”

  Ittai decided not to tell him about Keth of the Hittites. “They won’t. Perhaps he has a bodyguard of those warriors, but not an army.”

  “What else do you know of him? The Hebrew Lion.”

  “Rumors, mostly.”

  “I heard he is their god in human form.”

  “That would make a nice prisoner.”

  “What if it is true?”

  Ittai glanced at his face and saw apprehension. “Afraid of him?”

  “Afraid of their god. I’ve heard the stories. They said that the Hebrew Lion has a cave near this valley protected by enchantments. That every time our men are led to it by a traitor or search for it in the woods, they become disoriented and confused. And then they are slaughtered. Probably by those two demons you saw today.”