Abigail (8 page)

He glanced at the horizon, where the sun had begun to leave its midway point in the sky. His eye caught movement coming his way. Benaiah. Good. His faithful guard would not come without something to tell.

“Saul has broken camp and as we suspected is headed this way. They’re at a fast pace, so I suspect they’ll be here within the hour. What would you have us do?”

David glanced beyond Benaiah at the eastern sky, his thoughts turning heavenward. How often had he led his sheep through steep valleys or near rough waters of a recently flooded wadi, only to see Yahweh protect them from the predators that lurked in the mountain passes or calm the restless current? Even in the valley of the shadow, God was with him. Surely He would deliver David again from the man who sought his life. He had to believe that. But the struggle to do so grew tougher with every passing year.

O Adonai, You are my refuge, my portion in the land of the living. Listen to my cry, for I am in desperate need. Rescue me from those who pursue me, for they are too strong for me.

There was no escape apart from Adonai. Alone, he would not get far, and though the stronghold wasn’t an impossible distance away, the climb to the mountaintop fortress would take days. His enemies would surround and overtake him first.

He looked at Benaiah, then back at the sky, his heart surging with hope. “They’ve laid a snare for me, but God is our refuge and strength. We will hide in the cave until they leave.”

Benaiah’s brows knit, his expression filled with doubt. “If you but say the word, we could go to battle with them. As you said, the Lord can save by many or few, and we’re better at secret tactics than they are.”

“And risk killing the Lord’s anointed. You know my answer to that.” David joined the rest of his men in the back of the cave, his hope mingling once again with despair.

Daniel drew a groove in the floor as he paced from the back of the cave to within a long stone’s throw of the cave’s entrance. The space, illuminated by a few clay lamps, held a handful of David’s men, all of them anxious and tense, ready to jump up and claw their way out of this stifling place at a moment’s notice. Daniel consoled himself that he would be the first, warding off the closed-in feeling with this frantic activity.

He glanced at David, who sat with his back against the cool limestone, eyes closed. Their leader gave the impression that he hadn’t a care and could sleep through an earthquake. His apparent peace was the exact opposite of what Daniel was feeling now. How long did David expect to sit there doing nothing? What if Saul found Talya or his son? His heartbeat kicked up a notch as he envisioned the worst— Talya ravaged by enemy warriors. Surely not. These men hunting David down were fellow Israelites, not some foreign enemy.

He stopped midstride and swung around on his heel, turning back toward the cave’s mouth. There had to be something he could do—anything to dispel the tension knotting every muscle, worrying every thought. If he crept closer to the entrance, perhaps he could get an idea of what they were up against. It had been hours since they’d last heard from a lookout. What if Saul had captured them? Why wasn’t David allowing him to take a turn? Maybe David’s trust wasn’t so certain after all.

The thought depressed him even as a new determination to do something, to find out what was going on, pressed in on him. He reached the limit of the lamp’s shadowed light and paused, then felt along the wall of the cave. He followed the natural bend and moved toward the late afternoon light coming through the opening. Squinting, he stopped and waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, then continued forward slowly, one foot in front of the other, keeping his head tilted, listening.

A heavy groan made him pause. Silence met his ear, then more indecipherable sounds. An animal? He crept closer. His eyes fully adjusted to the darkness now, and the sight before him stopped him cold. There hunched on a sitting stone was the king of Israel, his back to Daniel, his robe splayed out around him, his crown slightly askew as he rocked back and forth, grunting. What providence was this? The man was close enough to touch with no one guarding him.

Giddy laughter bubbled to Daniel’s lips, but he clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle the sound that would give him away. Surely God was smiling on David. He had given his enemy into his hand! How easy it would be to thrust a dagger into the king’s side or lop that crowned head from his shoulders and take it to David. The thought made his heart thud harder and his knees almost weak.

It
would
be easy . . . but what if David thought otherwise? No, first he would bring the news to the men and convince David that God was the one who had delivered Saul into David’s hands. Then he would gladly thrust a blade into the old king’s side. And place Saul’s crown on David’s head.

“David!” A touch on David’s arm startled him awake. He looked up, senses on instant high alert, to meet Daniel’s excited expression. “The king is here,” he whispered, bending low, “at the mouth of the cave, without a guard, trying to relieve himself.”

Saul was here? Unguarded? Impossible. David rubbed his eyes and pushed to his feet. The other men crowded close. One look into their eager faces told David they had heard.

“This is the day of which the Lord spoke when He said to you He would deliver your enemy into your hand, that you may do what seems good to you,” Benaiah said, one hand touching the hilt of his dagger.

“It’s a perfect opportunity, David. Kill the old king and be done with it.” Abishai grabbed a clay lamp in one hand and pulled the blade from his belt with the other. “Just give the word, and I’ll do it for you.”

David examined the group, noting the affirmation in each nod, in each weary but determined expression. These men had been with him nearly from the beginning, and they longed as he did to go home to a normal life, one that didn’t keep them on edge or force them to run from place to place. He’d lived the life of a fugitive for nearly seven years. To end it all would be such relief.

“I’ll go,” he said at last, knowing they looked to him for some type of decision. If anyone raised their hand against Saul, it should be him, not his men. He would be blamed for it, was already accused of seeking Saul’s life, so why not?

He removed his dagger and touched the tip, checking for dullness. It would do. Turning, he held up a hand to keep the others from following. He would make his way in the darkness, lest Saul notice the added light. His heart beat slowly in thick, heavy thuds as he eased his way along the cave walls. Rounding a bend, he looked toward the entrance. Sure enough, there sat the king of Israel on a sitting stone, trying to relieve himself.

A thousand emotions rushed in on him as he moved on lithe feet ever closer, until he stood almost near enough to touch the man.
Kill the old king and be done with it.
Abishai would have already thrust the blade into Saul’s back. Hadn’t he caused them enough misery? If Saul were dead, Jonathan would bring him back to the palace, he’d be reunited with Michal, and he would ascend the throne without further bloodshed. Saul’s death would be the end of his persecution. He would be king in Saul’s stead.

The thought brought a swift ache to his heart. Things could be so different. Life wasn’t supposed to be this way. God’s promise of the throne wasn’t supposed to include living like a fugitive.
Where are You, Lord?

A groan followed by muttered curses jolted David’s thoughts to the present. The last thing he needed was for Saul to alert his guards. In one swift motion, he cut the edge off Saul’s robe and tiptoed backward, farther into the shadows.

Guilt lapped at him like ripples on the Jordan as he made his way back to his men. Saul was the Lord’s anointed every bit as much as he was, and David had no right to disrespect him or his position as king. If Saul was bent on seeking David’s life, then Saul was the one making a fool of himself. David could not allow himself to stoop to Saul’s level, and cutting off his robe was doing just that. He knew better. He shouldn’t have done such a thing, despite what his men might think.

As he approached the light, he turned the piece of robe over in his hand. The woven threads hung loosely, already fraying in the place where his blade had touched. His men rushed forward at the sight of him.

“Did you kill him?” Daniel asked.

“Where is his head?” Abishai scowled.

David held up a hand to quiet their whispers. “The Lord forbid that I should do such a thing to my master, the Lord’s anointed, or lift my hand against him, for he is the anointed of Adonai.” He held the piece of robe out for them to see. “I could have killed him, but I will not do it.”

Silence followed his remark, but the disbelieving and frustrated stares spoke volumes. He released a slow breath, knowing there was little he could do to appease them. They disapproved of him. Maybe they would desert him as well.

Despair cloaked his thoughts, and he turned to go back to the cave’s mouth. “Come,” he said, motioning for his men to follow. They moved as a group, saying nothing as they crept along the rough walls. He stopped within sight of Saul, but the king still appeared unaware of their presence. Saul stood, dusted off his robe, and walked into the sunlight.

David straightened his back and followed Saul out of the cave. He could feel the presence of his men keeping close, but they stopped short of exiting with him.

“My lord the king,” David called once Saul was well out of physical range. Saul turned, and David dropped to his knees and bowed his face to the ground. Then he stood so he could speak loudly enough to be heard by Saul’s men, who were now visible on the rocky ridge.

“Why do you listen when men say, ‘David is bent on harming you’? This day you have seen with your own eyes how Adonai delivered you into my hands in the cave. Some urged me to kill you, but I spared you. I said, ‘I will not lift my hand against my master, because he is Adonai’s anointed.’ ” David’s breath came fast, the words spilling from him. He held the cut piece of robe high in both hands so Saul would not mistake the markings. “See, my father, look at this piece of your robe in my hand! I cut off the corner of your robe but did not kill you. Now understand and recognize that I am not guilty of wrongdoing or rebellion. I have not wronged you, but you are hunting me down to take my life.”

He held out his hands in supplication. “May Adonai judge between you and me. And may Adonai avenge the wrongs you have done to me, but my hand will not touch you. As the old saying goes, ‘From evildoers come evil deeds,’ so my hand will not touch you.” He met Saul’s gaze then, a feeling of deep sadness filling him. This pursuit was so futile, such a waste of time, energy, and resources. And for what? The man was a fool, chasing the wind. “Against whom has the king of Israel come out? Whom are you pursuing? A dead dog? A flea? May Adonai be our judge and decide between us. May He consider my cause and uphold it. May He vindicate me by delivering me from your hand.”

Throat parched and words spent, David let his arms fall to his sides, defeat settling like a boulder on his chest. He and his men were surrounded now, at Saul’s complete mercy. He’d played the fool himself coming out here like this to speak to the king. Any moment now an arrow could take him down, and the king would have his victory. But at the same time, as close as he stood to his enemy, David felt inexpressible peace.

“Is that your voice, David my son?” Saul’s words carried to him, broken by the king’s loud sobs. An awkward stillness surrounded the craggy hills. Even the goats seemed to pause at the guttural weeping.

Abner, Saul’s cousin and commander, stepped to the king’s side and placed an arm around his shoulders in an apparent attempt to hold him up. Saul shrugged him off and straightened, his head bent low in an unusually humble pose.

“You are more righteous than I,” Saul said. “You have treated me well, but I have treated you badly. You have just now told me of the good you did to me. Adonai delivered me into your hands, but you did not kill me. When a man finds his enemy, does he let him get away unharmed? May Adonai reward you well for the way you treated me today.”

Saul dropped to one knee, hands extended. Was he bowing to his rival, the man he hated most on the earth?