Authors: Jill Eileen Smith
Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #Historical, #Romance, #General
He dropped his hand to his side. “I am sorry about your father.”
She nodded, taking another step away from him. “Thank you, my lord.”
Her look gave him the distinct feeling he’d somehow hurt her. But he couldn’t accept her help. He couldn’t risk Saul’s men finding out she’d assisted him. “You’re welcome.” He offered her a warm smile and trudged forward alone.
A servant met him at Samuel’s door and led him into the cool entryway. At least the girl’s directions were accurate. David lowered his aching body to the wooden bench and released a deep sigh. Moments later, shuffling footsteps sounded along the tiled hall and stopped in front of him.
“David, my son.” Samuel spoke slowly, but concern laced his tone. “To what do I owe the honor of this visit?”
David met the prophet’s steady gaze, sudden tears threatening. “Saul is seeking my life,” he said, his voice coming out in a hoarse whisper.
In two strides the old prophet’s strong arms pulled David to his feet and embraced him. David fell on his neck and wept.
“Why did you help my enemy escape?” Saul’s words rumbled in a low growl, his gaze menacing.
Michal used her arms to push to a sitting position, but the slight movement made the pain in her foot intensify, forcing her to lean back against her mother’s cushions. “I had no choice, Father.”
“No choice?” He whirled around, his hands thrust in the air. “What do you mean you had no choice? You always have a choice, Daughter.” Saul lurched forward, dug his fingers into Michal’s forearms, and shoved her farther into the couch. “Now tell me the truth. Why did you help my enemy escape?”
“I told you, I had no choice.”
His hand raised, then she felt the harsh slap of his palm against her cheek.
“The truth, Michal, or I’ll do worse to you than that!”
She choked back the uncontrollable urge to weep. “I already told—”
The second slap caught her off guard. “Abba, please!”
She raised both arms to protect her stinging cheeks, feeling more humiliated than when he’d taken her over his knee in front of her sister when she was small. Did he hate her as he hated David?
“Then tell me the truth!” His angry voice echoed in the chamber, and one glance into his heated face told her now was not the time for truth. His eyes flamed like embers from the pit of Sheol. He stopped in front of her, grabbed her wrist, and dragged her half off the couch.
“Please, Saul, you can see she’s hurt.” Her mother’s words seemed to bounce off him, not registering. His nails dug into her skin until she cried out in pain.
“He said he would kill me if I didn’t help him. What else could I do?” She choked on the words, sobbing.
He released his grip and staggered backward.
“That no-good son of a nobody threatened my daughter?” Saul shrieked. In one swift motion, he unsheathed his sword and held it in the air. “I make you this promise, Michal. As I live, we will find this traitorous husband of yours and feed his body to the beasts of the field.”
No!
her heart screamed in protest, but she couldn’t retract her words.
“Send out a search party.” Her father’s barked order made her sob all the more. “Find David and bring him to me—so that I may kill him.”
“I’m sorry to awaken you so soon, my son, but I thought it wise to move you to safer quarters.” Samuel’s sorrowful, rheumy gaze rested on David.
David squeezed his blurry eyes, trying to focus on the old prophet in the dim light of an oil lamp. “Has Saul found me?” David pushed into a sitting position, heart racing, his gaze resting on the shuttered window.
“I haven’t heard anything unusual. But dusk has fallen. It will soon be dark enough to travel about unnoticed.”
David nodded. He sat up and tested his weight on his blistered feet. The healing balm Samuel’s servant had wrapped around them had helped, reducing the pain immensely. “Where are we going?”
“To Naioth. I have several students housed on the outskirts of Ramah. The buildings are old, added on to over the years, with many secret rooms and places of refuge. You will be safe there.”
A delegation of Edomite shepherds who tended Saul’s sheep in the hills surrounding Gibeah stood in the king’s audience chamber.
“David has been seen in Ramah at Naioth,” their leader, Doeg, said.
Paltiel stood at attention to the right of the throne, acting as one of the king’s bodyguards. He expected such news to come, but not quite so soon. In the two days since David escaped, Saul had rarely slept as he paced the palace halls, breathing venomous accusations against his former captain and son-in-law.
“Guards!” Saul shouted to the men standing at the door to the audience chamber. Two men rushed forward and knelt.
“Go at once to Samuel at Naioth and bring David to me. Take ten men with you.”
“Yes, my lord,” one of them said. “May my lord, King Saul, live forever.”
Paltiel watched the two do an about-face and march out the door. What would Michal do when she saw her husband executed? With Saul’s propensity toward madness, David’s chances of a quick death were slim. Any number of gruesome thoughts of torture made Paltiel’s stomach turn. Even he wouldn’t wish such evil against David. While death was inevitable, swift was best. No sense putting Michal through the trauma of watching her husband suffer.
A sudden, acute protectiveness rose in his chest. He had to shelter her from the gruesome ordeal. He couldn’t bear to see anguish in those dark eyes. A shiver worked down his spine, and he wiped damp palms down the front of his tunic. Should he speak to the king? One glance at his monarch’s menacing features stopped the words in his throat. After David was dead, maybe he would make his wishes known.
“It’s no longer safe for me to stay with you, Samuel.” David spoke with deep regret, wondering if he would ever see the old prophet again.
Samuel placed two gnarled hands on David’s shoulders and gazed into his eyes. “I know Saul’s guards keep coming, but never forget, my son, God has chosen you to be the next king. Despite his efforts, Saul will not succeed.”
David bowed his head, accepting Samuel’s kiss on each cheek. “Thank you, my lord, but thirty soldiers have come in the month I’ve been here. Now your servants have spotted Saul’s own retinue headed this way. It is time for me to leave.”
Samuel dropped his hands and nodded. “Understood.” He handed a satchel of food to David. “Where will you go?”
David ran his callused fingers through his scraggly beard. He needed to see the palace barber. But he had more important needs to attend to first. “I’m going to see Jonathan. He succeeded once before in talking some sense into his father. Saul has never taken his pursuit this far. Maybe Jonathan can tell me what’s going on.”
Samuel touched David’s arm as he turned to leave. “Be careful, my son. And God go with you.”
“David!” Jonathan greeted his brother-in-law with a fierce embrace and kissed each cheek. “Come in, my friend.” He clapped one arm around David’s shoulder and drew him into the secluded sitting room.
“What are you doing here?” In the dim light of the clay lamps, he studied David’s disheveled, haggard appearance. The pain in David’s expression made Jonathan’s throat go dry. “You look terrible. What happened?”
“I’ve come to beg you for my life, Jonathan.”
Jonathan swallowed hard, uneasiness creeping up his spine. “What are you talking about?”
“A month ago your father tried to kill me. I escaped to my home, where Michal helped me slip through a window. I’ve spent these past weeks with Samuel in Ramah, but your father has sent guards continually and is on his way there now to capture me and kill me.” He paused, ran a hand over his beard. “What have I done? What is my sin before your father, that he seeks my life?”
“Impossible! You shall not die!” Jonathan said, but a sick feeling twisted his gut just the same. He walked to the window, raked one hand through his hair, and walked back to where David stood.
“My father will do nothing great or small without first telling me. And why should my father hide this thing from me? It is not so!”
“Your father knows that I’ve found favor in your eyes, and he has said, ‘Do not let Jonathan know this, lest he be grieved.’ But truly, as Adonai lives and as your soul lives, there is but a step between me and death.” David lifted both hands in a defenseless gesture. “If there is iniquity in me, kill me yourself. But do not take me to your father.”