Michal (31 page)

She raced over to Joash, then noticed Sarah and her maid clinging to his sides. The guard carried Jonathan’s limp son in his arms. The boy’s legs were grotesquely misshapen, twisted in an unnatural way.

“What happened? Is he dead?” Michal’s hand trembled as she reached to touch the boy’s curly dark head.

Sarah stood silently weeping, one hand on her son’s arm, and her maid’s stricken, dejected look caught Michal’s curiosity.

“What happened?” she asked again.

“I dropped him!” Sarah’s maid wailed. “I was running . . . He’d just awakened from a nap . . . I didn’t see the flowerpot . . .” She burst into tears. “I’m so sorry. I should have let him walk on his own. It’s all my fault.”

Joash carried the boy past Michal and laid him in the wagon, which was in front of the cart Michal would ride in with Merab’s boys. Sarah climbed in and knelt at the boy’s side, her tears dripping onto his brown tunic.

Michal stepped to the side of the cart and said, “Maybe someone can straighten his legs. Marta was always good at that. Surely someone can help.” The memory of the family’s cook brought a reminiscent ache to Michal’s heart. Marta had ensured the healing of her own injured foot ten years before. If she were still alive, she would have done the same for Jonathan’s small son.

Sarah lifted damp eyes to meet Michal’s gaze. “He’s all I have left.” She turned back to her son without another word.

The command to move out came from Joash’s lips. Michal ran back to the cart holding Merab’s boys, settled herself among the matted straw, and took the baby from Merab’s maid. Ahinoam sat on a separate donkey, and the bedraggled group made its way slowly through the gate.

“Where’s Merab, Mother? We can’t leave her here,” Michal said.

“Adriel is with her at the back of the line. They must move more slowly because of her condition. If we get separated, she wanted the boys to be safe.”

Michal’s gaze swept the crowd of family and servants squeezed together, fighting panic in their hurry to escape an unknown fate. She spotted Adriel’s head in the distance and could only imagine Merab lying in the cart he was driving. The sound of an infant sucking its thumb turned Michal’s head to the baby in her arms. What was she supposed to do when the child wanted to eat? She’d never birthed or nursed a baby. It was a trial she bore with continual regret. Once in a while she could forget the yearning for a son, when she was in a state of dreamless sleep. But in her waking hours, not a day passed that her empty arms didn’t long to be filled.

Was this God’s punishment for marrying Paltiel? Would she remain forever barren because she’d scorned her vows as David’s wife? She stroked the baby’s downy cheek and fought tears. Where were these thoughts coming from? Bitter grief sliced through her as the wagon jostled her from side to side. She had grown to love Paltiel. But what if he too was dead along with her father?

Jonathan’s face floated before her eyes, his gentle, reassuring voice whispering in her memory.
Trust in the Lord,
Michal. Whatever happens, wait for Him.

Wait for Him? Trust? How was she supposed to trust when everything she loved kept slipping through her fingers like sifted grain? She dug her nails into the folds of the baby’s blanket and held Merab’s infant son close to her wet cheek.

“Do you think they got the message, Abner? Will our families be waiting at Bahurim when we get there?” Paltiel dragged one exhausted leg behind the other, trying to keep up with the brawny commander of Israel’s defeated forces.

“They’ll be moving slow with the women and children, but if the runner got to them, they’ll go to Bahurim.” Abner continued at a measured trot but finally slowed when Paltiel doubled over and sank to his knees in the dirt. He walked over to the man. “What’s the matter with you, Soldier? You’re younger than I am. Can’t you keep up?”

Paltiel heaved a deep sigh, holding his stomach. “Guess not.”

Abner placed one hand on his shoulder. “Catch your breath then. I’ll wait.” He walked to the side of the path and sat on a tree stump.

Paltiel’s breathing slowed, and he sat back on his heels, placing both hands on his knees. When his wind returned, he rubbed one hand over his haggard, sweaty face. “What are we going to do with all of them gone?”

Abner wiped his palms along his bloodstained tunic. “We still have Ishbosheth. If we can get the people to rally around him, we can keep the kingdom together.”

Paltiel’s stomach twisted in a knot of fear, the realization of their plight rocking him. Ishbosheth might be of Saul’s blood, but he was not capable of running a kingdom. Israel needed a strong king, one who could unite the disjointed twelve tribes. One who could defeat their enemies. One whom the people already hailed a hero.

David.

Hadn’t God promised him the kingdom someday? Jonathan had repeatedly reminded his father of that fact every time one of their efforts to capture the man had failed. Every time David had turned an opportunity to kill the old king into a mission of compassion and forgiveness. Every time David had acted more like a king than Saul did.

“The people might prefer another.” Paltiel looked into Abner’s hard features. “What will you do if they turn to him?”

“You mean David.”

“Yes.”

“It’s possible.”

“So how will you keep him from taking over the kingdom? Especially if God is with him?” Paltiel sat back in the dirt, defeat and fear coursing through him.

Abner’s unyielding gaze reminded him of Saul. “You of all people should know we can’t let that happen. Unless you want to lose your wife the moment he takes the throne.”

The words stung like a hand slapped across flesh. He knew better than anyone that he was living with another man’s wife in an unlawful union. But he couldn’t lose her. Not now. Not ever. He loved her. He would rather die first.

“We can’t let him control Israel.” Paltiel looked at Abner with an affirmative nod. “I’ll do whatever it takes to help you keep David from becoming king.”

25

“Paltiel! Oh, tell me it’s really you.” Tears of exhaustion covered Michal’s face the moment the wagons came to a stop in Bahurim three days later. She squinted through a filmy haze at her battered husband, not certain whether to trust her vision.

“Michal?” The emotion-choked voice of the man she had grown to care for sounded distant, but in two strides he stood at her side, leaned over the cart, and pulled her to him.

His kiss awakened her deadened nerves, and when he released her, she sat back, out of breath. She looked around at the children clamoring for her attention, then back at Paltiel. Heat filled her cheeks at the bold look in his eyes.

“Get these children settled with their mother.” He whispered the command as his fingers brushed the tears from her wet cheek. “I need you.”

“I can’t.”

“What do you mean, you can’t? Just do it, Michal.”

Michal swallowed hard. Sometimes Paltiel demanded too much.

“Please, Paltiel, I have to take care of them. Merab isn’t well, you know, and the journey has sent her into early labor. Mother is worried about her.”

Paltiel squeezed her arm gently and bent to kiss her cheek. “Put them to bed then. I’ll meet you on the roof.”

After tucking the children safely into bed some time later, Michal walked through the main part of the house. The small estate belonged to Shimei, a distant cousin of her father’s—a man with no love for David. He’d welcomed them with open arms, giving them full use of the place, then discreetly kept his distance. She should be grateful that anyone would even take them in, but she didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to be faced with living as a fugitive.

She came to the end of the hall and stopped before entering the large, open courtyard. Twin palm trees graced the opening, and potted anemones in varying shades added a splash of color to the gray brick walkway and limestone benches of the court.

“How much damage do you think the Philistines will do?” Ishbosheth’s timid voice caught Michal’s attention, and she leaned against the wall, listening.

“Enough that it will take us a while to set them to flight again,” Abner said, his tone weary.

Michal peered around the palm tree and studied the faces outlined in the torchlight. The three men looked unutterably weary, their fatigue matching her own. She stumbled toward the small group and settled next to Paltiel, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Just getting the army to come out for the fight could take months,” Paltiel said, drawing Michal closer in a comforting embrace. “The way they scattered after Saul fell . . . I never saw such chaos.”

“Was David there?” Michal said without thinking.

“Does it matter?” Undeniable hurt laced Paltiel’s words.

Somehow it did. “I suppose not,” Michal said, measuring her words. “I was just curious.”

“It’s a good question, Michal,” Abner said, shifting on the bench. “If David had been there fighting against Israel, we’d have enough ammunition against him to keep him from ever gaining the kingdom. As it is, he wasn’t there at all. Not defending or opposing. Which makes our job all the more difficult.”

“But not impossible,” Paltiel insisted.

“Do you really think I’d make a good king?” Ishbosheth’s uncertainty, reflected in his childlike tone, made Michal uncomfortable. Her brother was not capable of running a kingdom. Anyone giving him more than a cursory glance would know this.

“You’ll do fine, Ishbosheth. Just do as I tell you and you’ll be all right,” Abner said, reaching over to pat the man on the arm.

“I’m not dumb, you know.” He plucked a flower from one of the pots beside the bench and began to twist it between his fingers. “People think I’m dumb, but I’m not. I’ll make a good king—better than Father, ’cause I don’t worship idols.” He mumbled the words to himself, and Michal lifted her head to glance from Paltiel to Abner. Ishby had been religious about not worshiping idols, but that didn’t make him a qualified candidate for king. Were they really going to go through with this? But of course they had to if they wanted to keep David from the throne.

She rose from her seat and left the courtyard, climbing to the small guest room on the roof to await Paltiel. Let them discuss their ridiculous plans. Maybe she could block out all of the nonsense and fall asleep before Paltiel joined her.