Michal (34 page)

One Year Later

“What’s the word on Abner and the house of Saul?” David lifted a silver chalice to his lips and sipped freshly fermented grape wine. He stretched both feet in front of him and rested them on a low stool. Evening shadows blanketed the informal sitting room of his home, and a servant carrying a narrow torch walked about lighting the lamps.

“Saul’s family has firmly settled in the far north, in Mahanaim, and Abner is still working to gather all Israel to them there.” Joab gulped a long drink from a matching goblet and wiped the droplets from his mouth with the back of his hand. “You know Abner will stop at nothing to make Ishbosheth king in Saul’s place.”

David studied the swirling red liquid in the shiny cup, wishing the answers to his current dilemma could be found in its depths. “Jonathan would have handed the kingdom to me without question.” Why couldn’t Saul’s firstborn have lived? “Ishbosheth will do whatever Abner tells him to do.”

“And Abner doesn’t want to give up such a powerful position. I wouldn’t be surprised to find that the desire to be king rests solely with him.” Joab took another drink, then slammed the empty goblet on the table. He rose from the wooden chair to pace the length of the spacious room.

David’s brows lifted, and he eyed his nephew with amusement. The man was impertinent and impatient. “Calm down, Joab. The kingdom will come under my control in God’s time. Hasn’t He brought me this far?”

Joab paused midstride to stare at David. “Nevertheless, you must not take Abner lightly, my lord. He is shrewd, and his cunning will make him a worse enemy to you than Saul ever was.”

David set the silver cup on the table beside him and clasped his hands under his chin. “I’m well aware of Abner’s ways, Nephew. You do remember that I married into the family. Not to mention serving under the commander for years.”

Joab returned to sit on the edge of his seat. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “What if you thwarted Abner’s efforts before he can gain any more of a foothold? Plant an enemy at his back door.”

“Meaning?” David looked into Joab’s beady gray eyes and pockmarked cheeks. His hardened look could scare a child, and his murderous stare, a grown man. Good thing this gruff underling was working for him, not against.

“Make an alliance.”

The words caught David off guard, and he settled back against the cushions of the couch. “What kind of alliance?”

Joab’s bushy black mustache twitched as he toyed with a mischievous smile. “The king of Geshur might like to keep peace.”

Geshurite people had been among Israel’s enemies. Some of their southern towns had been wiped out by David and his men when they had lived among the Philistines. It would do no good for the Geshurite king to know the details of those expeditions. Not if they expected to make him an ally. “Does he know of our past exploits?”

“Doubtful. He’s afraid of you now that Judah has crowned you king.”

“You think so?” David gave Joab a curious look. Joab may have a lot of information, but he wasn’t about to take advice solely from him. “Perhaps we should call my counselors together, see if they agree.”

Joab sat back and crossed both arms over his chest. “Your prerogative, of course.”

David snapped his fingers, and a servant hurried to his side. “Call Hushai the Archite, Benaiah, Abiathar the priest, and Abishai to join us.”

“Yes, my lord,” the servant said, and rushed from the room.

A short time later David addressed the group. “Brothers, it has come to my attention that Talmai, king of Geshur, would like to be in our good graces. Furthermore, I am told that Abner’s forces are gathering at Mahanaim, and as we suspected, he plans to make Ishbosheth king in Saul’s place. An alliance has been suggested between my kingdom and the Geshurite kingdom—to have an ally north of Abner. Tell me, what do you think on the matter?”

“What kind of alliance?” Abiathar asked. “They are a heathen nation, after all.”

“We would come to their aid, and they would join in our defense. No more raids on Geshurite villages,” David said, toying with the fringe on the decorative pillow at his side.

“Talmai’s afraid of us,” Joab put in. “And I don’t think he ever cared for Saul. He’s not happy to find Saul’s son camped in his backyard, especially with the possibility of Israel uniting to make him king. If my guess is correct, Talmai would like to know that we would defend his small kingdom from Abner’s forces.”

“Abner has been gaining back territory lost to the Philistines,” Abishai commented.

“It’s been slow going, though,” Joab said, rising to pace again. “In the year that David has ruled Judah, Abner has gathered less than half the forces he had before Saul was killed, and they’ve only gained back one town since then.”

“I suspect that given enough time, he’ll build momentum and recapture the other towns, particularly Gibeah.” Benaiah accepted a raisin cake from a servant.

“You don’t think he’ll go back there, do you?” Abiathar asked.

“Not any time soon. Abner is no fool. He wouldn’t want to be so close to Hebron. He knows David’s power is increasing daily. God is with us, and Abner knows it.” Joab paused midpace and grabbed another goblet of wine from a silver tray, downing a large gulp. “But I still think we need to make an alliance with Talmai. It would strengthen your kingdom, David.” He turned to face his uncle. “In any case, it couldn’t hurt.”

David listened to the banter continue around him, momentarily lost in thought. If Abner hadn’t slipped away so soon, he might have gotten Michal back. As it stood now, he would probably have a fight on his hands if he tried to claim what was rightfully his. And she was his. He’d paid for her in blood. Besides, bringing her home to him would strengthen his claim to the throne. Then again, how would he accomplish such a feat without harming more of Saul’s family? He raked one hand through his shoulder-length hair and sighed. There must be a way.

“Uncle? Are you listening?” Joab’s voice rose above the dissonance of his thoughts.

“I was thinking.” He scanned the room, pausing to acknowledge each man. “I want to bring Michal home.”

Silence followed his announcement.

“What does that have to do with making an alliance with Talmai, my lord?” Benaiah asked with obvious hesitance.

David stroked his beard, stalling. By the looks on their faces, they must think him completely mad. “Nothing, I suppose. But it will strengthen my claim to Israel’s throne. The trick is getting her away from Abner without bloodshed.”

Hushai slowly shook his head.

“You don’t agree, Hushai?”

“The timing doesn’t seem right, my lord. You could, as you say, find that it helps unite the kingdom. But with Abner obviously trying to thwart your efforts to become king in Saul’s place, you could find the tribe of Benjamin, and perhaps others, rising up against you if you do such a thing too soon.”

“Abner would undoubtedly see it as a declaration for war,” Benaiah said. The broad-shouldered bodyguard leaned forward on the bench, his dark eyes on David. “I didn’t think you wanted civil war on your hands, my lord.”

“A war might be inevitable,” Joab said, rubbing his hands together.

“So, what kind of alliance did you have in mind?” David asked, purposely changing the subject. No sense belaboring a lost cause.

“Word has it that Talmai has a daughter.” Joab dropped his agile body into a stiff-backed chair. “If you married her, you would make a more powerful treaty than one written on mere parchment.”

“They say the girl is quite beautiful, my lord,” Abishai added.

David reached for his silver chalice. “You want me to take another wife?”

“Not just any wife, my lord. A princess,” Joab said.

“Like Michal?” David took a sip of the red wine, suddenly wishing he could drink enough to forget the woman. “You think I should start a harem, Joab? Three wives are enough trouble. Why should I concern myself with more?”

“David’s right. And Adonai’s law warns the king against taking many wives, lest they turn his heart away from Him,” Abiathar said. The priest had read the law to David at his coronation as king over Judah, and the reminder only increased David’s resistance.

“But as long as they don’t turn his heart from Yahweh, what’s the problem? Surely He knows that political alliances can avoid much bloodshed.” Abishai’s words cast doubt on David’s own confused thoughts.

“Yes, and while my enemies avoid such turmoil, my household suffers from it.” David frowned. “A houseful of women is not necessarily a blessing, Nephew.”

“So you build them their own rooms, give them servants and children, and call for them when your heart desires. Some men would relish such an arrangement.” Joab folded his arms across his brawny chest and gave David his no-nonsense smirk. “Personally, I don’t see the problem here.”

Chuckles passed among the men, and David courted a wry smile. He studied the last of the liquid in his cup. They didn’t understand. He wasn’t interested in marrying more women. He found Ahinoam charming and Abigail appealing in a physical and spiritual way, and when he could recapture Michal’s love, his home would be complete. Another wife would just complicate his life.

He sighed, rubbing his knuckles along the pillow cushioning his arm. When he looked up, expectant eyes met his, and he knew that to refuse them would not get his kingdom off to a good start. Though being king might give some the illusion he could do as he pleased, he was finding he must also satisfy his advisors.

“Perhaps a meeting with Talmai is in order,” he said, forcing a smile. “Send a delegation to Geshur and draw up the terms of the alliance. If he agrees . . .” He paused, wishing he could undo what he was about to say. “If he agrees, tell him I will consider the treaty sealed when I marry his daughter.”

Michal bent over the woolen mat where Joel lay sleeping, resisting the urge to stroke his soft brown hair. Her back ached from kneeling at his side over the past few days, dipping the cloth in cool water and begging God to reduce his fever. Exhaustion swept over her, and she suddenly felt like one of the limp rags she’d wrung out and pressed over Joel’s body night and day.

She studied the shallow rising of the boy’s chest, satisfied that he finally slept peacefully. At least his breathing was no longer labored, and the fever had broken that afternoon. Maybe sleep would come to her now as well.

She rose to her feet on shaking limbs and lifted damp tendrils of hair away from her perspiring face. The thought of losing yet another family member made her numb to the core. Thankfully, God appeared to have mercy this time. Joel would recover and go home to his father, and she could go back to being Paltiel’s wife. Sometimes this intermittent motherhood took more energy than she possessed. Though she wasn’t solely responsible for them, she wasn’t sure she wanted to help Adriel raise his five boys. One at a time, born of her flesh, would have been better.

The child’s steady breathing continued, and Michal slipped from the room. She walked to the larger sitting room and through the door into the courtyard. A balmy breeze brushed her hot cheeks like a soft caress. The last vestiges of orange and pink swept the distant horizon, wrapping the sky in ribbons of color. She loved this time of day. Somehow her world seemed smaller by comparison, her problems miniscule weighed against the vastness of space.

With a deep sigh, she turned and walked back into the house. She dipped a drinking gourd into a large clay urn of water and sipped the tepid liquid. The house held an eerie quiet with Keziah away visiting her family and Paltiel at war. What was David doing now? And why did thoughts of him always surface when she was alone? News had traveled fast that he’d added two more wives to his harem. It shouldn’t matter, really. And yet her heart still turned over in silent pain every time she imagined him in another woman’s arms.

She finished the cup of water and placed the gourd on the table beside a covered bowl of rising dough. Paltiel would fight for her to his dying day, but that thought did little to comfort her. Maybe she was just tired. Life was too hard. Pain was too real. And God didn’t turn things in her favor anymore.

She moved to the bedroom, stretched out on the cot in the corner, and closed her eyes as the lamp’s flame flickered on a niche in the wall. If David managed to become king of all Israel, what would she say if she stood before him and saw him dressed in the finery her father once wore? If she went back to him, would he make her his queen?

In her mind’s eye she glimpsed the young girl whose dream it was to be married to a man who would one day be king. That girl didn’t exist anymore.