Michal (22 page)

Hope sprang anew, quickening Michal’s step. She hurried the rest of the way to her room and shoved open the door. She would need to gather a few things in a bundle to tie to the back of the horse. Maybe she could get some food from the kitchen and a cooking pot or a camp oven like the one David used to take into battle.

With the door closed behind her, Michal began to forage through her clothes. Only a few items could go—there wouldn’t be room for much. She glanced at her mirror and pots of makeup. They would have to stay.

After perusing her collection of clothing, Michal settled on two pale blue tunics and the multicolored robe she was wearing, a few personal items, and combs for her hair. And her veil, of course. The dust alone would make it necessary to wear one.

Oh, but what if she couldn’t find David? Israel was a big place, and she’d never gone far from Gibeah in all of her seventeen years. She stared at the items laid out on the bed in front of her. Could she do this? In her condition?

David!
Her body swayed like one keening for the dead.

She had to do this—for David’s sake, if not her own. The horse would help him, and if for some reason her father found them, she could plead for her husband’s life. Father had always listened to her in the past.

Before she could change her mind, Michal wrapped everything in a wool blanket, tied it with a piece of leather, and put it under the foot of her bed. She would go to the kitchen and gather a few more things, then find Keziah. The girl had proved trustworthy in the past. She would have to trust her again if her plan was to succeed. Her feet nearly flew amid the clop of the stick over the stone floors. If all went well, she could be on her way by nightfall.

“But how are you going to find David in the dark all by yourself, my lady? There are thieves and malcontents roaming the fields and living in caves. At least let me go with you.”

Michal shook her head and met Keziah’s concerned gaze as the gray light of dusk curtained the sky. “I’ll be fine, Keziah,” she promised with a confidence she did not feel. “Just help me get the horse out of the stable and mounted.”

“But what if the king finds out? What will I tell him? He’ll kill me!”

“No, he won’t. Besides, I need you here to cover for me.” She paused midhobble and placed one hand on the girl’s arm. “Please, Keziah, don’t worry.”

Michal watched Keziah clamp her mouth shut, a telltale sign she would soon open it again.

“But it’s not safe, my lady,” she blurted moments later. They were within a few paces of the stables now, and Michal’s heart tripped. Perhaps she should have left Keziah out of her plans.

Michal put a finger to her lips, motioning for Keziah to be quiet. The caretaker’s house was built above the stable, a place once used as an inn. Her father had hired the man to care for his animals, leaving no room to house the donkeys and horses of travelers. Another inn had opened for that closer to the city gate.

When she reached the door, Michal glanced overhead for any sign of the caretaker’s family. Voices could be heard, muffled by the thick walls. A good sign. Maybe she could actually get David’s black stallion out of the stall undetected. Her hand grasped the rope handle and pulled. Relief slipped from her in an unbidden sigh. At least the door wasn’t locked.

She tiptoe-hobbled over the hard-packed earth, Keziah at her heels. One of these horses had to be David’s. Too bad she didn’t have use of a torch. She squinted in the gray light, wishing the moon’s glow were visible through the door. Thankfully dusk had not given way to blackest night yet. With soft steps, Michal crept along, hoping, praying for success.

“Is that the horse, my lady?” Keziah touched her shoulder and pointed to the end of the row.

“Maybe. It’s too dark to see.” Michal limped closer, ignoring the pain in her foot. She’d put too much weight on it walking around all day. If she could just get on the horse, she could let it rest.

When she came to the far wall at the back of the stable, she found a large black horse munching hay. One clear look at him through the dim moonlight turned her hope to despair. The animal was huge! How would she ever mount the beast, let alone ride him? She gripped the walking stick for support and stared at the sleek stallion. Maybe she should ride her donkey instead. Oh, but it would take so much longer to reach David!

Squaring her shoulders, Michal looked around for the bit and reins, realizing with a jolt that she had no idea how to prepare such an animal for riding. Servants and stable hands had always done such things for her. Strong men had even lifted her onto her donkey whenever she’d ridden in a royal march through Gibeah’s crowded streets.

Whatever had possessed her to think she could mount David’s horse alone, much less find him in the barren hills of Judah?

She turned and walked back to the front of the stable, defeat surging through her in a torrent. Keziah was right. She should go back to her father’s palace and hope that someday he would change and welcome her husband’s return, praying that peace would somehow find her in those dismal stone halls.

But as she reached the front of the stable, truth hit her full force. Her father would never change. And if Keziah had heard correctly, her marriage to David would soon be a distant memory. She could not let that happen!

“Did you hear that? I think someone is coming,” Keziah said, making Michal’s heart kick into a gallop. She rested one hand on a wooden rail and cocked her head. The only sound was her own labored breathing.

“I don’t hear anything.” She walked on, pausing at the narrow stall that held her personal donkey. Relief flooded her. This one she could manage. She dropped her packs over the animal’s sides. “I’ll take her instead, Keziah. Fix the bit in her mouth so I can mount.”

Keziah did as she was told, though Michal could sense the girl’s fear in her quick, jerky movements. It had been a mistake to bring her this far. But it was too late to go back now.

Keziah spread a multicolored blanket over the animal’s back and helped Michal mount. Moments later Keziah led the animal through the door and into the night.

“Where will you go, my lady? It’s so dark.”

Where indeed? Probably to Bethlehem, but she wasn’t going to tell Keziah everything. No telling what her father would drag out of the girl.

“Do not worry overmuch for me, Keziah.” They were away from the stable now, headed toward the field. She would have to take the long way around to where the hill made a natural town border, past the stone Ezel, away from the guards at the city gate. “Just hurry home before I’m missed.”

Keziah stared at her mistress, the whites of her eyes visible in the distant glow of the moon. “Will you not reconsider, my lady?”

Michal shook her head. “I cannot go back there, Keziah. David needs me. Now go!” She watched the dejected girl turn around and begin the long walk to the palace. Anxious to be off, she kicked the donkey’s side. Truth be told, David might do well without her. But she was lost without him.

17

The glowing lights of the tabernacle winked at David through the falling dusk. Refuge. Surely the priests in the house of God would offer provisions, perhaps even give him helpful advice or inquire of the Lord for him. It was worth a try.

Please, Lord, let there be food and a weapon I can use.

He stood on a low ridge overlooking Nob, the city of priests, anxious for daybreak. He’d walked for hours since leaving Gibeah, grateful for the handful of men who’d caught up to him. Joab, Abishai, and six soldiers of David’s tribe had run off to find David the moment Jonathan brought word of Saul’s rage. No one from Bethlehem would be safe in Gibeah, especially those who shared David’s blood.

“Why not go tonight, Uncle?” The sound of crunching stones accompanied Joab’s approach.

“Because daylight looks less suspicious. I can’t have Ahimelech reporting to Saul as soon as I leave. Nob is too close to Gibeah.” Sabbath or not, he would speak to Ahimelech and get what he needed.

“But cover of night would give us an advantage over Saul’s men.”

David pulled the turban from its place and dug his fingers through his dusty hair. Joab had a point.

“We’re hungry now, David. At least go and ask the man for bread,” Abishai said.

Exhaustion warred against common sense. All he wanted to do was sleep, but his gnawing stomach demanded action. He looked at his men, too tired to argue, too hungry to care. “All right. I’ll go.”

“Keziah! What are you doing out here in the dark?” Paltiel shifted the pack he was carrying to his left shoulder and studied the girl. Keziah’s dark eyes widened, and her full lips trembled. He scanned her narrow frame. “What’s wrong, Keziah? You can tell me. Maybe I can help.”

Her slender fingers were fidgeting with the sash of her tan robe, and she looked like a cornered animal. He eased the sack off his shoulder and stooped slightly to meet her at eye level.

Keziah tucked her lower lip beneath her teeth and looked beyond him. Her obvious struggle to trust him sent pinpricks of dread up his spine. He wanted to shake the girl, to make her speak. If something had happened to Michal . . . Surely not. Michal was back at the palace in the safety of the fortress walls.

“My mistress . . .”

Paltiel’s thoughts leaped to attention. “You mean Princess Michal?”

Keziah nodded. “She’s . . .” The girl chewed her lip again, tears slipping down her cheeks.

“She’s what, Keziah? I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.” He bit back his frustration and placed a comforting hand on her arm.

Keziah looked at him, hands clasped in supplication. “Please, sir, promise me you won’t tell the king.”

Paltiel bent his head in a slight nod but held his peace. “Just tell me, Keziah.”

“My lady has gone off after her husband. I’m afraid for her, Paltiel. It’s not safe for a woman alone.”

Impossible! Michal couldn’t even walk straight. How could she run off into the wilderness? She didn’t even know where David was. Did she?

“How? When?” He studied the girl while a niggling fear worked through him. What if it were true? She could be hurt.

“We secured a donkey from the king’s stable.”

“Just now?” Paltiel glanced at the sky. Dots of glittering light began poking through the cloudless canopy.