Abigail (30 page)

“I’ve missed you.” He traced a finger down her bare arm. She shivered involuntarily when his hands rested on her middle, and he placed one hand over her womb. “Amnon is a fine boy.”

His dark eyes searched hers, and she returned his gaze, wishing she could hide the pain that statement evoked. Why talk of Ahinoam’s child now? This was their time, and she didn’t want to share it with another.

“Yes, my lord, I’m sure he is.”

He pulled the combs from her hair, letting it tumble down her back. “It’s time you had a son of your own.”

His words and the tender way he looked at her brought a rush of emotions to the surface, feelings she’d locked away for months, unable to say to anyone, even him. She lowered her head, not trusting her voice, and studied her feet.

“Don’t cry, beloved.” He kissed the tears that had slipped out unbidden and took her hand, intertwining their fingers. “I’m sorry I’ve neglected you, but I’m here now. Let me make it up to you.” He tugged her toward his bed, pulling her down beside him.

Everything she’d planned to say to him the next time she finally had him to herself—the concerns about her barrenness, the pain of sharing him, along with her mother’s request for Daniel—fled her mind as she lost herself in his love.

Before the sun rose, David met with Joab, Abishai, and Asahel over a morning repast of sheep cheeses and fruits. The troops were headed to Gibeon, and David wanted to be sure they were prepared to negotiate with Abner, to bring as little bloodshed as possible to their people. The war between Judah and Israel had already lasted a year, and David longed to see it come to a swift end. He couldn’t help but worry about the long-term outcome of such civil strife.

“Perhaps we could pose a champion battle as the Philistines did with Goliath,” Abishai suggested, biting off a large hunk of soft cheese. “We just need a giant, head and shoulders taller than the rest.”

“Or a young man with a stone and sling.” Asahel looked at David and smirked, then laughed at his own humor. David’s nephew had been but a child when David had gone up against Goliath.

“Keep in mind that the champion fight was only the start of the battle that day.” David leaned back in his chair, stretched his legs out before him, and crossed them at the ankles. “The whole army pursued the Philistines all the way to the entrance of Gath and the gates of Ekron. I know Abner may push you to fight him hard, but I don’t want to see our brothers destroyed. Do what you can to minimize the losses.” He ran a hand over his beard, thinking not for the first time that life would be so much simpler if Abner would come over to his side and work with him instead of against him. “We need to put an end to the civil war as soon as possible.”

“Abner is a fool. He will fight to keep control of Israel until he breathes his last.” Joab stood to pace the room, hands behind his back.

“Abner is ambitious. He knows a good thing when he sees it, and he sees power in supporting Ishbosheth. But he is wise enough to know he can’t win forever. In the meantime, I want to keep the bloodshed minimal.” David glanced at the window where the sun had now fully crested the eastern horizon. “Your troops will be waiting.” He stood, dismissing his nephews. “May God go with you.”

Each nodded in respect and headed to the door.

“Report to me as soon as you return.” David watched them leave, then returned to his chambers to find Abigail.

The cistern at Gibeon circled down into a black abyss where water collected during the heavy rains and a spring wound its way from the hills leading to the pool. Joab stood facing his two brothers a stone’s throw from where Daniel waited with Asahel’s troop. Daniel was close enough to hear, though Joab would never actually include him, the king’s own brother-in-law, in the conversation.

“We’ll divide into three groups and come at them from before and behind, and some will hold back and reinforce whichever group needs the most help.” Joab looked at Abishai. “Your men will circle around behind. I’ll take the frontal attack.” His gaze shifted to Asahel, and Daniel cautiously moved closer. “Asahel, keep your men back and wait for my signal.”

“What about the contest the king suggested? Are we simply going to ignore that?” Abishai cast a glance Daniel’s way and frowned, then nodded his head in Abner’s direction, across the Gibeon pool.

Joab thrust his hands behind his back and tapped a foot impatiently. “Contests don’t eliminate the need to fight.”

“They can determine the outcome, though,” Asahel put in, “as the Philistines can so readily attest—when they will actually admit that they lost a son of Anak to a mere shepherd boy.”

Commotion and movement across the pool drew Daniel’s attention. Abner’s forces moved with rhythmic precision into strict military formation, standing at attention, facing the pool and Joab’s waiting men.

Daniel’s pulse quickened at the sight, his blood rushing hot through his veins. If they posed a contest, he would fight in it. He would prove to the king that he was worthy to be counted among David’s mighty men, that he was not some weak-kneed woman who needed to be kept from harm’s way. If he didn’t know better, he would almost wonder if Abigail had said something to David to keep him from seeing any real battles.

Daniel leaned his head to the wind, feeling the breeze cool his hot face, the heat not coming from the mild warmth of the sun but from the stirrings of anger in his heart. Abigail would never do such a thing to him. Though Mama might.

He turned at the rustling sound of Abner’s men as some squatted and some sat cross-legged among the rough grasses of the plain.

“What are they doing?” Had he missed something while letting his mind wander?

“Same thing we’re doing,” Asahel said, coming up behind Daniel. He motioned for him to join the rest of the soldiers on the ground.

Daniel knew better than to argue or assert any perceived authority he might have as brother-in-law to the king. Joab, Abishai, and Asahel were the obvious favorite captains in David’s army. Everyone else did as they said.

Pockets of conversation filled his ears as he crept from his position toward Joab’s men seated closest to the pool. Abner, King Saul’s former commander, stood and cupped both hands over his mouth. “Let’s have some of the young men stand up and fight hand to hand in front of us.”

Would Joab take the challenge? Daniel’s pulse quickened, pinpricks dotting his skin. He could do this. He was most skilled with a sling, as any shepherd would be, but he’d had plenty of practice fighting Amalekites and Geshurites under David’s command—proof enough that he deserved some recognition. He tamped his anger down and stood.

Such a contest would prove his worth as a man, forever erasing the smear on his family name and making a place for himself without the help of a wife, mother, or sister.

“All right. Let them do it.” Joab’s response should not have surprised him. This was it then. He hurried forward and stopped a handbreadth from Joab.

“How many men?” Abner’s voice carried across the pool. Joab’s hard, beady eyes narrowed. His gaze moved from Abner to the first row of his men, his gaze skimming Daniel’s. He crossed his arms over his brawny chest, shifting toward Abner. “Twelve men, one for each tribe.”

Despite the fact that this was a civil war and neither side could boast men from all twelve tribes, the number made some kind of twisted sense, perhaps proving one side deserved the support of all twelve tribes over the other.

Daniel stepped closer, drawing Joab’s attention. “Let me go.” Daniel stiffened at Joab’s glower, knowing he would have to fight his commander before he ever fought his opponent. “You know I can do this. Let me fight for David.”

Joab’s brow lifted, his eyes glinting. He shook his head and waved him off as though he were nothing more than a pesky insect. Daniel paused, stung, his anger rising with the hurried steps of his feet.

“You, you, you, and you.” Joab pointed in quick succession to four men, who were quickly joined by eight others Daniel recognized—four each under the command of Joab’s brothers. The twelve straightened their military tunics, checked the swords and daggers strapped to their sides, and moved to the edge of the pool.

Flushed and angry, Daniel grabbed hold of Joab’s sleeve and garnered a murderous stare for his action. “Listen, Captain, there is no reason for you to treat me like this. I am willing to fight, probably more so than some of the men you just sent. So why do you ignore me as though I am of no consequence? I am the king’s brother-in-law!” He didn’t often fling his relationship to Abigail around, and a part of him loathed himself for doing so now, but he was tired of being ignored as though he were nothing. “That reason alone should make you take notice of my ability. I’m as good a soldier as the next man.”

Joab bared his teeth, and for a moment Daniel had the impression that if he were a lamb, then Joab was a lion and would rip him in two. “That reason alone is why I ignore you, Daniel ben Judah. How would I face the king again if I was responsible for the death of his wife’s brother? Be grateful that the king values your hide so much and stop acting like a lost pup looking for its mother.” He whirled about and stalked off before Daniel could respond.

Heat poured into Daniel’s face as he glimpsed the smirks of the men around him. There would be no end of taunts toward him now. His humiliation could not be more complete. Why had he been such a fool? Joab was a hard man, and few came against him and walked away with their lives or their reputations intact.

Daniel ground his teeth and slipped away from the onlookers, but stayed close enough to watch the contest that should have been his.

Joab’s twelve moved away from the pool to a grassy spot closer to Abner’s forces, meeting Abner’s twelve face-to-face.

“When I blow the trumpet,” Joab shouted, “let the contest begin!”

Daniel’s breath suspended, the air prickling, snapping like the prelude to a thunderstorm. The shofar sounded, jolting air into his lungs, He stood, his feet frozen to the dirt. First one, then two, four, six—his gaze darted from one man to another.

Arms thrust out, heads yanked forward, swords plunging. Terrifying, haunting screams pulsed in the sun’s heat.

Blood spilled onto black earth.

Screams slowly stilled into silence.

Daniel’s heart thudded like thick mud, weighting his arms, his legs, sickening him. An eternity passed, or was it only a moment? Shouts awakened his dead ears, and the shofar sounded again.

“Let the war begin!” Joab’s battle cry jolted him, freeing his limbs. Daniel surged forward in pursuit of the enemy.

30

David stood at the window of his bedchamber, looking east toward the slowly rising sun. News of the battle had begun to trickle into Hebron, but he was still waiting for a report from his nephews, and the delay had filled him with an uneasy sense of dread.

Abigail stirred in the bed behind him, and servants moved about in the halls, their muted whispers and quiet footfalls breaking the silence of oppression that had settled about him like a cloak. Birdsong greeted him as the pink hues of dawn cast a pale glow over Hebron’s mud-brick homes and distant, grass- and sand-covered hills. If he didn’t hear something by the time the sun broached midday, he would send scouts out himself to see what had happened to Joab and his brothers.

“David?” Abigail’s gentle voice pulled him from his irritating thoughts. He turned to find she had wrapped a thin robe about herself and stood at his elbow. “Is everything all right?”

He drew her to him, encasing her in his arms. There was a sense of rightness about having her here, and not for the first time he wished he had known only her. Keeping her with him these past few days had made it almost possible to blot out the constant need to appease his other wives. If only for a time, he could forget the kingly demands that obligated him to keep peace with tribes and nations through marriage contracts with their daughters.

A sense of uneasiness crept over him, and he wondered again if he was doing the right thing. Hadn’t God told kings not to take many wives? And yet he seemed powerless to deny the requests put on him, or his own faithless desires. The kings of surrounding nations had far more wives at their disposal than he would ever allow, and he assured himself that he would never let his wives lead his heart from Yahweh.