Abigail (12 page)

“What did David request?” The question formed of its own accord as she worked to overcome her shock. She knew the servants did not respect her husband, but it was the first time she had heard one of them speak ill of him in her presence.

“He asked for whatever our master could find on hand to give the ten men he sent. They were looking for food, my lady.”

Of course, the need for food for such a large contingent of men and women would be a constant source of concern for David. His unsolicited work for Nabal should have been met with gratitude. Even she knew how easily shepherds could be accosted in the Wilderness of Maon. Barren land made for sharp tempers when food ran short and water ran low.

And then another thought pierced her. Had Daniel been among the men greeting Nabal? Surely not. Surely he would know better. Even after two years away, Nabal would recognize her brother. They’d known each other for as long as she could remember.

She rubbed her arms and looked beyond Jakim to the rock-strewn hills in the distance. Nabal’s disdain for David and loyalty to Saul were no secret to those who knew Nabal best. But disdain or not, her husband’s actions were grave indeed. Men like David were warriors first and, as with all men, wore the need for respect on their sleeves.

A shiver fluttered in her stomach, and every last remnant of hunger fled. She must act. If Nabal’s actions had put their household in danger, then perhaps by God’s grace, hers might undo the consequences that were sure to come. Even her father and Daniel would not be able to stop a warrior like David. She knew only too well what it was like to live with an unpredictable, often violent man. And knowing Daniel, he would be only too happy to fuel the king-elect’s anger. He would like nothing more than to see Nabal lying in a pool of his own blood.

Oh, Adonai, what should I do?

Zahara’s touch on her arm made her jump, drawing her thoughts back into focus.

Abigail looked again at Jakim. “Take two hundred loaves, two bottles of wine, five sheep ready dressed, five measures of parched corn, a hundred clusters of raisins, and two hundred cakes of figs, and put them on donkeys. Go on before me, and I will come afterward.” All her calculations on the storehouse lists would be wrong now, and Nabal would surely question her, but she would have to take that risk. She would come up with a solution and an explanation later.

She met Zahara’s worried gaze, suddenly wondering who was the bigger fool, she or her husband. What could she possibly say to David to appease him if the food was not enough? She swiveled to look at Jakim, who was already mounting his exhausted horse. “Hurry,” she whispered as he galloped toward the storehouses.

Zahara stepped closer and stared at her as if she had lost her senses. “You would stand in the way of hostile men, my lady? If David doesn’t kill you, Nabal will.”

Abigail lifted her robe and pushed past Zahara back to the house, her heart pounding harder than her running feet. Zahara was right. There would be no way to explain this to Nabal except to tell him the truth. And once she told him the truth, things would not bode well for her.

Zahara caught up with her as they reached the courtyard. “Are you sure about this, my lady?” Though by her tone, Zahara was not trying to dissuade her. How could she?

“I would rather risk Nabal’s wrath than allow our innocent servants to suffer.” She offered Zahara a weak smile, stifling the fear that was swiftly and surely stealing her peace. “Come, help me dress in clothes that will catch an angry man’s attention. Perhaps God made me beautiful enough to allow me to speak. And if my words fall on ears of hardened stone, then at least I will have died trying.”

14

“Gird on your swords, every man of you!” David reached for the blade he had just finished sharpening and tucked it into the scabbard at his side, his hand trembling as he did so. Fierce rage rushed through him. He drew in a deep breath, willing himself to remain steady, to think. He looked up at the ten men he had sent to Nabal, hearing again the rebuff they had witnessed.

“Who is this David? Who is this son of Jesse?”

Nabal would pay for his insults, along with every man who served him.

“Many servants are breaking away from their masters these days. Why should I take my bread and water, and the meat I have slaughtered for my shearers, and give it to men coming from who knows where?”

Anyone who would put up with such a man as master, who would stay loyal to one so worthless, did not deserve to live.

David’s indignation mounted, his blood bubbling like hot oil.

“Two hundred of you stay with the women and the goods. The rest of you follow me.” He glanced at the eager faces now crowding around him. His gaze caught Daniel, whose father, Judah, had suggested this wilderness hideout and had introduced his men to Nabal’s shepherds. Had they known this would happen? Surely they knew Nabal was a fool. Hadn’t Daniel said as much?

A stab of mistrust pricked his conscience as he assessed the man. Daniel’s gaze held approval, and David’s sudden suspicion evaporated. Still, perhaps Daniel and his father were too close to Nabal’s household to be objective.

“Daniel ben Judah, come here.” The afternoon sun shone down on him, casting shadows among the rocky clefts of the hill.

The crowd parted to let Daniel through. He stood before David, hand on the hilt of his sword as if ready to fight. “Yes, my lord?”

“You know this man’s house.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Do I have your full support?”

A look of annoyance crossed Daniel’s face. “Of course, my lord. I only ask that you spare the women and children. My sister is among them.”

“As I intended.” Good. He was loyal to his family.

“So what are we waiting for?” Joab’s voice came from behind David.

Cries of assent mingled with a handful of chuckles from his men. If they hurried, they could do this thing before nightfall. “Let’s go.”

He turned and marched along the path that wound down the hill, every step fueling his wrath. “It’s been useless—all my watching over this fellow’s property in the desert so that nothing of his was missing. He has paid me back evil for good. May God deal with me, be it ever so severely, if by morning I leave alive one male of all who belong to him!”

An intermittent breeze offered little respite from the blazing summer sun, and it lifted Abigail’s veil only slightly from her face. Up ahead she could see the outline of the heavy-laden donkeys bearing gifts of food for David and his men. Perhaps it would appease.
Please, Adonai, let it be enough.
She could have given them more, though Nabal would miss what she’d taken as it was. What kind of explanation would she give him for what she had done?

The thought sent a shiver through her despite the warm day. She drew in a deep, slow breath and gripped the reins tighter. The valley stretched before her as her donkey’s sure steps followed the path up the side of the mountain. Behind her Jakim trailed, insisting he come along to protect her while other servants carried the gifts up ahead. But somehow, despite their relative closeness, she felt alone—and in truth, she was. Jakim’s life was forfeit if David would not listen to her plea. What were a few men against the hundreds at David’s side? Unless, perchance, her brother or father were with David and could speak on her behalf.

Oh, Adonai, give me strength. Let me find mercy in the eyes of Your servant David, and give me the words that will keep him from shedding innocent blood.

What was she supposed to say to him? Her mind tested and discarded a number of possible persuasive words as her hands grew moist beneath the leather reins, her heart thudding harder with each step higher up the mountain. She could do this. She had to do this.

A hawk screeched overhead, a foreboding sound. Moments later male voices accompanied the march of steady feet coming closer. She looked up to where the road bent in a wide curve. Her donkey reached the bend as the marching men drew near with their leader in front, fierce and determined.

David. It had to be.

The sight of the king’s son-in-law was nothing like she’d imagined. In the stories she’d heard of him, he was the shepherd and the singer and the man who would kill to marry the woman he loved. The last thought should have warned her of the fierce warrior who strode down the hill, gaze angry and proud. He was more handsome than Nabal, but his expression was as dark as Nabal’s had been the night he assaulted her the first year of their marriage.

Adonai, help me!

Her knees grew weak, and she wasn’t sure they would hold her, but she reined in her donkey just the same and slipped from its back. David’s pace never slowed until he stopped within an arm’s length. She sucked in a startled breath. He was so close she could feel the strength of him, smell his sweat. Unable to stand without swaying, she fell to her knees and lowered her face to the dust.

“My lord, let the blame be on me alone. Please, let me speak to you; hear what your servant has to say.” She stopped and waited for his response, her pounding heart sounding louder than her breath.

Silence spanned between them like a wide chasm. She felt his touch on her head. “Rise and speak.” His voice was quiet and hoarse, as though he didn’t trust himself to say more.

She pushed to her knees and leaned back on her heels, her gaze focused on his feet. “My lord, please pay no attention to this man, Nabal. His name means ‘fool,’ and folly goes with him. But I, your servant, did not see the men my master sent.” She pressed sweaty hands along the folds of her robe as the sound of marching came to an abrupt halt behind David. She ignored the muffled sounds of grumbling men.

“My lord,” she said, lifting her voice above the din, “since Adonai has kept you from avenging yourself and from shedding innocent blood, may your enemies and all who seek your life be as Nabal.”

At his startled intake of breath, she looked up briefly to meet his gaze. Where had such a curse on her husband come from? But the words had been on her tongue before she could stop them. Her hands trembled at the thought. She twisted the sash at her waist, looking once again at his dusty, sandaled feet.

“And now, my lord, may this food your handmaid has brought,” she said, hurrying her words lest he stop her before she could finish, “let it be given to the young men who follow you. Please forgive your servant’s offense. Adonai will surely make a lasting dynasty for my lord, because you fight Adonai’s battles. May you never be found guilty of wrongdoing. Though your enemies pursue you and seek your life, the Lord your God will protect you, and the lives of your enemies He will hurl away as out of the pocket of a sling. When Adonai fulfills all the good that He has promised you and has appointed you ruler over Israel, my lord will not carry the grief of having avenged yourself or shed blood without cause.”

She drew in a deep breath, willing herself to calm down, but she could not stop her body from trembling. Clasping her hands into a tight ball, she looked at him boldly but dropped her voice to a whisper. “When Adonai brings all these good things to pass for you, my lord, then remember your maidservant.” She quickly dropped her gaze then and placed both hands on her knees, but not before she caught the hint of a smile on his lips. His anger had been assuaged, her words heard.

Thank You, Adonai.
Relief flooded her, and a shiver passed over her.

“Praise be to Adonai, the God of Israel, who has sent you today to meet me.” David bent to touch her shoulder, and when she looked up at him again, he offered his hand. “May you be blessed for your good judgment, for keeping me from bloodshed this day, and from avenging myself with my own hands. Otherwise, as surely as the Lord God of Israel lives, who has kept me from harming you, if you had not come quickly to meet me, not one male belonging to Nabal would have been left alive by daybreak.”

She placed her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet. She swayed from the sheer relief of his smile, and he quickened his grip on her hand. Heat filled her face at his touch, however innocent, and when she looked into his eyes, she read his frank appreciation that spoke more than he dared say. She quickly dropped her gaze as he released her hand.

“Go home in peace. I have heard your words and granted your request.” He stepped back from her and clasped his hands behind his back.

The action made her look up again. His smile had faded, but his eyes never left her face. She nodded in acknowledgment, and the impact of all that had just happened rushed in on her with a force that nearly knocked her to her knees again. David was accepting her gift but sending her home. Home to Nabal her husband. Nabal, the foolish son of Belial.

And come morning she would have to tell him everything.

15

Daniel’s heart thumped hard inside his chest as he watched the interchange between David and his sister, and it slowed only a fraction when she concluded her speech and David helped her to stand. Why had she come? If she had let things be, he could have freed her from her impossible marriage to her incorrigible husband. And from the way David was looking at her now, she might even have had a chance to join their band and marry the soon-to-be king. Better to be one of many wives in David’s family than to stay married to a fool.