Michal (28 page)

Shepherding lambs was far less draining.

21

Two Years Later

After mounting his donkey and kicking its sides, Jonathan beat a swift path across the field to his father’s house. Arrow prayers darted heavenward. The rumors couldn’t be true. He tugged the animal’s reins until it came to a stop, hopped off, and stalked toward the king’s audience chamber.

“Jonathan, what are you doing here at this hour?”

“I could ask you the same question, Paltiel.” He eyed his brother-in-law with marked disdain. It wasn’t like him to show outward antagonism, but this man had defrauded his best friend, and despite the ensuing three years of Paltiel’s marriage to his sister, the fact remained that nothing he could ever do would improve Jonathan’s opinion of him.

“Did the king summon you?” Paltiel asked, matching strides with Jonathan’s long ones.

“I don’t need an invitation to meet with my father. I am heir apparent to the throne, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“I hadn’t. But everyone else thinks you have.”

Jonathan came to an abrupt stop. He whirled to face his nemesis. “I haven’t forgotten my father’s intentions. I’ve simply chosen the will of the Lord instead.”

Not waiting for a reply, Jonathan took off down the darkened hall again, Paltiel on his heels.

“How can you be sure of the Lord’s will, Jonathan? What if His plan is for you to be king? You’re throwing it all away.”

Jonathan ignored the barb and flung open the door to the audience chamber. His father sat on a raised dais, observing a flutist and a scantily clad dancer perform. The music came to a halt and the dancer’s movements stilled as Jonathan stormed across the stone floor.

“Tell me it isn’t true, Father.”

Saul reached for a cluster of red grapes and plucked one, popping it into his mouth. His eyes held a curious gleam, and his mouth curved in an amused smile.

“Tell you what isn’t true, Jonathan?”

Jonathan waved away the fruit a servant offered. “I heard you’ve called the troops to prepare for war—not against a mortal enemy like the Philistines or the Moabites, but against your own son-in-law, your faithful captain, David. What are you expecting to do, Father? Chase him completely out of Israel? You can’t keep doing this.”

“I can’t? I, the anointed king of Israel, can’t? I can do whatever I like, Jonathan.”

“Not when you’re breaking the laws of Adonai.”

“I haven’t broken any laws.”

Did the man possess no remorse? “Father, killing the priests was not commanded by the Lord—”

“
Don’t!
. . . Don’t even speak of them.” Saul’s countenance darkened, and a brooding expression clouded his glowering eyes.

“Why? Because of the constant guilt you feel? Because the pain in your head and the misery you feel is worse since you killed eighty innocent people?” Jonathan regretted the ruthless way he flung the words, but the momentum of his anger propelled him forward. “And now you’re going to gather the armies of Israel and run after David to kill him, when you have no good reason for doing so. You know David will one day be king. He is the Lord’s anointed too, Father. I will be second to him. Why does this make you hate him? It is not David you fight against, Father.” He rubbed one hand down the back of his neck. “You fight against God.”

“Stop!” Saul’s scream pierced Jonathan’s heart. He’d said too much. But he didn’t care. He watched his father clutch his temples and begin to moan. David wouldn’t be there to soothe his restless soul. The household would endure a night of bitter agony—something Jonathan had done more times than he could count.

“Ohhh . . . Jonathan. Why do you torment me? I’m only doing this for you.”

Any hint of pity Jonathan started to feel fled. “For me?” He fairly shouted the words. “You would kill David for me?” With one last glare at the man who had given him life, he turned on his heel and strode toward the door. When he reached the entrance, he paused and glanced over his shoulder.

“If you loved me, Father, you would let David live and allow Adonai’s plan to unfold for both of us.”

Ignoring the rising moans coming from the king, Jonathan stormed out of the palace.

“How will you know where to find David, my lord?” one of Jonathan’s men asked. “Rumor has it he is staying in the stronghold near the Salt Sea.”

“No, no, he left there over a month ago. Just last week the king got word of him living in the walled city of Keilah,” another of his men said.

“Are you sure? I thought he went back to the wilderness after he left Keilah.” This from a third of the five men accompanying him.

Jonathan listened to the banter with interest. Such confusion could be just the edge David needed to keep one step ahead of his father. He glanced into the shadowed face of the servant on his right and said, “I’ve no doubt David has been in all three places, some more than once. But my sources told me David’s men were spotted in the Wilderness of Ziph. He is hiding in the forests there.”

“What happens if your father catches up to us? He might kill you too, my lord,” the second servant said.

“My father will never find David. God is with him.”

Jonathan fell silent and urged the donkey forward. They would rest when he was closer to David and farther from the armies of a mad king.

The brush of soft flesh on David’s arm coaxed him from slumber. His new young wife lay sleeping, her golden brown hair cascading like a waterfall over her bare arms. She stirred, turning toward him. When she bumped against his bare chest, her dark, almond eyes flew open, and she reached for the blanket, tucking it around her.

David chuckled, his voice low. “Ahinoam, I’m your husband. You don’t need to act like a frightened doe every time you share my bed.” His laughter deepened at the look of indignation flashing across her face.

“You scared me, that’s all.” She looked away from him, bright spots of crimson dotting her cheeks.

“Well, get used to it, beloved. You’re not going to get rid of me that easily.”

He reached for her, unable to still his amusement. The pale light of dawn began to filter through cracks in the ceiling of the cave. The rest of the camp would awaken soon, including the men and women sharing their small abode. Nevertheless, he wanted to feel the warmth of this delightful girl’s arms around his neck, to taste her moist lips once more.

She giggled when his beard tickled her neck. He lifted the smooth strands of her hair and sifted them through his fingers. Had they truly been married only a month?

“David?” She interrupted his attempted kiss. “Will you still want me when you’re king—when you take other wives?”

“Who said I’m going to take other wives?”

Ahinoam shrugged her slender shoulders, and David pulled her against his chest, kissing her forehead. “Don’t worry about the future, my love. Who knows what tomorrow may bring? I only know I have you now. And you can count on that.”

He moved closer, his lips brushing hers, when a hushed voice called from the mouth of the cave. “David? Are you awake?”

David lifted his head and gave her an impish grin. “It’s only Joab. Maybe I can ignore him a bit.”

She giggled again, accepting his kiss.

“David!” The whisper became louder, more insistent. “You have company.”

Reluctantly David released Ahinoam and set her at arm’s length. He stood, draped his tunic over his head, and secured his robe with a leather belt. He walked to the cave’s mouth without a backward glance.

The pink sky illuminated the fire pit, and David saw a man sitting in the shadows. When David approached, he stood.

“Jonathan!” Sudden, memory-laden emotion made his knees weak. How was it possible? And yet here he was.

“David! Brother.” Jonathan gripped David’s shoulders, and as he accepted Jonathan’s kiss of greeting, he could feel the prince’s tears mingling with his own.

“How did you find me?” David motioned for Jonathan to sit, noting the dark circles under his eyes and the deep lines furrowing his brow.

“Men are always sending reports to my father. I have loyal sources in the palace who keep me informed.”

“Please, my friend, tell me how it fares with you.”

“I am well, all things considered. My father does not trust me.” Jonathan accepted a flask of water from one of the women. He looked into its depth before taking a long drink. “He spends every waking moment trying to find you, David. He thinks he won’t rest until you’re dead. But he’s mistaken.”

“Don’t be so sure, my friend.”

Jonathan touched David’s arm. “I have every right to be sure. You will be king over Israel, and I will be second to you. Even my father knows this.” He looked back at the goatskin flask in his hand. “Don’t be afraid. My father will not lay a hand on you.”

“I wish I had your faith.” David leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and stared into the fire.

“Didn’t Samuel pour anointing oil on your head? Hasn’t God brought you safely out of every difficulty thus far? The throne may not be yours yet, but it will be.”

David nodded, his thoughts a jumbled mess. If only he shared Jonathan’s confidence.

“This could be His time of preparing you, though.” Jonathan studied him, then looked beyond David into the distance. “We don’t always know why God allows trials. We do know He wants us to trust Him.”

David focused on the smoldering fire. He knew that. Only a few months ago, when the prophet Gad had come to him at the stronghold, he’d heard the Lord’s quiet voice whisper those very words.

Trust Me, David.

“When you come into power,” Jonathan was saying, “promise me you will show kindness to my family—to me.”

David’s head came up. Was that defeat in Jonathan’s expression? “You know I would never hurt you, my prince. Should God allow me to reign as king, you will be second to me.”

“But if I die—”

“You’re not going to die.” The thought pierced David’s heart.

“Nevertheless,
if
I die . . . please . . . protect Sarah and any children born to us. Promise me you will deal kindly with us.”

David swallowed the thick knot in his throat. “You have my word, my prince. May God deal with me, be it ever so severely, if I ever betray this trust.”

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