by Fiona Tarr
'Why does this help with sword fighting? I know you mentioned balance but I still do not really understand.'
'Your honesty is refreshing David. The form work you have just done helps with balance yes, but it also programs your mind and your muscles to remember a set pattern of movement which you can recall when required. This is very effective when you are involved in sword fighting. When your opponent comes at you and you block his attack one way, your body and your mind will remember a series of movements to follow this blocking movement. You recall when we practised the lunges forward followed by the pivot on one foot and thrust?’ David nodded.
‘This is used when an attacker comes at you from the front. You block his attack with a forward assault. However when his friend comes at you from the side at the same time, you can smoothly pivot from your now off balance assailant to thrust a sword into the belly of the attacker coming at you. This automatic response is what you are trying to train your mind and body to achieve. We do this first with no weapon so you do not injure yourself. Later we will include wooden practise weapons and then my friend, you and I will use bronze swords. You can understand our need for practise and accuracy.' David studied Martinez’s face, although he was smiling the realisation struck him. He was deadly serious! He would have to someday practise against Martinez with a real sword. The thought terrified him.
****
Francesca walked slowly away from the King’s encampment as the sun rose on a new day. Behind her the camp was stirring to life, with the cooks loading wood on the fires. The night sentries had retired for a few hours’ sleep before the camp moved on for the day. She had no desire to spend more time than was necessary with the King. His arrogance was growing and the charm and innocence he once possessed were all but gone. The brilliance of the dark sky fading to white and pink light as the moon disappeared over the crest of the hills was breath-taking and lightened Francesca’s mood. As a Priestess of the one true God Francesca had long ago ceased to spend much time with men. Something she did not miss, as they were self-absorbed and callous by nature, thinking only of their own needs and wants. She believed her desire for men was totally gone until her meeting with Martinez. Something about the man raised in her emotions long suppressed. He was strong and powerful yet he expressed a tenderness of heart not often seen in a grown man. She chided herself on allowing such daydreams to occupy her time. There was much for her to do and so much relied on her. The burden of her work was beginning to weigh her down.
Her spirit called to her to rest and seek time to meditate. She had tried the previous night to connect her spirit with the creator, to rejuvenate her soul. Yet she could not draw her mind away from all the troubles she needed to attend to. As a Priestess she knew this was not good. However something in her was crying out to control the coming battle. She was a strong woman, much stronger than most men liked or could handle. Her powers of the spirit allowed her to see things happening in the spirit realm which the everyday women could not usually see and would not cope with if she could. This served to make her harder in many ways, yet at the same time, her compassionate nature towards other women and children was strong. Her work would mean that their lives would be safe, that their culture and faith could be preserved, a heavy burden indeed.
She forced her mind back to the work at hand. It was time to find a place to rest where she would not be disturbed. Once she sought out Jezebel in the spirit realm she would have to fast. She would be unable to protect herself from attack in the flesh as she would be unconscious to this realm. All the wheels were in motion. The King was on his way back to the fighting front. Martinez and David would be on their way back soon and the time was coming for prophecy to be fulfilled.
Chapter 8
Jezebel slept fitfully as she waited for the King to return from his latest hunting trip. This whole situation was becoming more intriguing by the day. A nation at war, yet the King was hunting. The commander of the army was off with some young harp player, while the army sat idly by daily listening to the taunts of that insane giant from the Philistine army. Yet nothing was happening. Jezebel felt frustrated. On the one hand she wanted the Israeli nation crushed. On the other she despised the Philistine forces just as much. They were without honour, just sitting waiting to wear the enemy down instead of attacking. Yes numbers were close and the battle would not be won easily by either side. Yet to sit doing nothing was just ridiculous cowardice. Her people would never have sat by and done nothing. They would have ridden their chariots into battle.
She had taken spirit journeys to see if she could see what the Philistines were planning. It was unreadable; they had no plans which she could discover. They had no obvious reinforcements coming, yet it was as though they were waiting for something, as if they thought their giant warrior was their only means of winning the battle. Jezebel wondered if they had some Sharman or magician telling them that they would be successful through the warrior giant. The fact that she could not walk the futures was even more annoying at this time. She knew that the Israeli King was very intricate to their future and young David had a part to play, yet she did not understand what. His spirit was definitely protected; therefore his role was probably as important as the King himself. She could feel it every time she was around him. Then there was Martinez; he was a man of cold power, calculated strategy and not to be underestimated. The paths were coming together, Jezebel could sense it. She was still unsure exactly what she needed to do to manipulate it. The King was due back this evening, she would spend the night with him, then walk the spirit path to see if she could gauge what she needed to do next. Without the ability to see the futures, she would struggle to know how or when to act. The unsuccessful attempt to murder David had left doors open and this was causing her considerable discomfort.
****
Saul was growing even more agitated as he made his way back to Jezebel. He craved her more than anything he could imagine. This infuriated him, as he did not like being dependent on anything or anyone. He had tried while he was away from Jezebel to spend the time in meditation and prayer. He had begun to feel a reconnection with the Creator and felt more relaxed than he had in months. However as he made his way back to Jezebel, his anxiety began to return. He decided it was just his sexual tension and apprehension as he would soon be with her again. How strange that he no longer wanted any of his wives. Their beauty was legendary, yet he craved them not at all. What he was going to do when he returned to the palace he was not sure. How could he maintain his relationship with Jezebel when she refused to marry him? This had been one of the reasons he allowed the stalemate with the Philistines to carry on so long. Now with the Priestess Francesca insisting he allowed David to attempt to fight the giant, all could be lost in one act. He could either lose his nation to the Philistines if David failed or just as unsettling David could win, forcing him to go home to his life with his many wives and carry on in the political role of King, which he had grown to detest. Either way, his time with Jezebel would now be short unless he could discover a way to keep her in his service without his wives creating too much trouble. Most of his wives would just do as he told them. A mistress was not totally unacceptable for a King, however his first wife was strong-willed; something he had found attractive at first, but now for some reason it served to aggravate him. She held much sway with his harem, even with some of the men within his court and council. Most important were her powers of persuasion over Jonathan and the holy men of Israel. She was a woman of great faith and wisdom which invariably gave her power amongst the prophets, irrespective of the fact that women were not allowed to have a hand in matters of faith.
****
Jonathan crawled forward slowly to peer over the ridge. He had been following tracks for hours, fresh horse manure and other signs that a party of soldiers were on the move. Now he heard voices as he climbed the last rock and slid up to the edge of the ravine to peer below. There was a large clearing, leading to a smaller clearing, with a thin trickling stream, fr
inged by tall date palms and large outcrops of stones. Jonathan could see a group of men; all appeared to be officials of the Philistine army. They wore breastplates and feathered headdress, with rough leather kilts and they carried the familiar round bronze shield and long swords of the Philistine army officers. They stood around making markings in the sand, having a heated discussion about how and when they should proceed forward to join the remaining forces of the Philistine army at Caligree. Jonathan had to get back to Martinez with this news. If the Philistine army had reinforcements coming, then the Israeli army would need to strike now before they were outnumbered. Jonathan slid backwards down the ridge dislodging a small rock in the process which rolled off the edge of the ravine into the clearing. He began to run at full speed knowing he had now given away his location.
The clearing erupted into noise and commotion as men drew swords and began their pursuit. Jonathan heard them clear the top of the ridge and chase him into the undergrowth. He was now at the bottom of the ravine on his side and slid into the foliage quickly trying to hide himself. The enemy would be expecting him to run. They would not be expecting him to sit and wait for them to move off. The men spread out through the undergrowth, one narrowly missing Jonathan as he pushed straight by. It was growing dim as the sun began to set and Jonathan decided to wait until nightfall before trying to make his way back to Martinez and David.
He took the opportunity to close his eyes and calmly rest. His breathing slowed, his senses honed by the stillness. His hand did not stray far from his sword. The danger passed as the pursuing men moved further away, still seeking signs of him. What felt like moments later, Jonathan awoke to the noise of soldiers returning. They were moving a large force into the clearing which adjoined the earlier meeting place of the military officials of the Philistine army. It was hard to make out in the moonlight, but these men appeared to be mercenaries, not regular Philistine soldiers. Jonathan decided now was the time to sneak away and make his way back to report on the situation. He slid neatly through the undergrowth until he was well clear of any sentries or soldiers who might have taken a walk to relieve themselves. He walked a short way to allow his eyes to adjust to the night then strode out in a loping effortless run towards the encampment. The moon was high and beams of light shone through the treetops. Jonathan had great balance and his eyesight was still perfect in the dim light. When he reached the camp, it was dark and no fire was alight. Martinez saw Jonathan approaching from his hiding place behind a large tree and stepped forward to greet him. 'When you did not return before dark, we thought it best not to make a fire in case you had been caught and your attackers were pursuing us. It is good they did not catch you my friend,' remarked Martinez casually.
'We must make haste; the Philistine force has been swelled by mercenaries who march at dawn to Caligree. We must be there well before them and advise the King it is time to act, before it is too late. It appears the Philistines have been delaying while they waited for these reinforcements.' Martinez paused only a moment.
'David prepare the horses. Jonathan you rest a moment, get something to eat and then we will start out, back to the fighting line.'
The three men were on their way before midnight, making good time under the cover of darkness. It was going to be a long journey back to Caligree, with very little time for rest, David thought glumly as he chewed on a small piece of dried meat.
****
Derai sat in her apartment. Where had her life taken such a turn? As a young woman she had fallen in love with a young man. He was gentle, caring and honest of heart. Unfortunately her family had chosen another to be her husband. His much older brother had been her father’s choice. Her father had said he was destined for greatness, he had seen it in a vision. Greatness indeed, she had married the King of Israel. Yes her husband had become great; he had also become arrogant, proud and now she was one of many wives. Her only saving grace was her wonderful son Jonathan. A blessing from the Lord truly, as she had been barren for so many years that the King had all but cast her aside. Jonathan was a wonderful young man, serving his father without question even though he did not agree with the treatment Derai had received. The political climate was changing and Derai felt it was only a matter of time before the Israeli people demanded more of the King than he could achieve. What had originally started out as a need for the people to be ruled over was now turning into a need to rule others. The politicians wanted to take over all the surrounding nations. The King had become their puppet. No longer did he rule as The Creator intended. He now decided on who needed to be attacked and when. She felt the Lord had wanted the Israeli nation to utilise the resources of the Philistines, not try to obliterate them. The same for other close neighbours, yet the politicians and priests managed time and time again to manipulate Saul into doing their bidding. So much for wanting a King to rule them. The people had no idea they were now ruled by politicians and priests, far worse than corrupt judges. No one followed the one true God any longer, preferring to plan and scheme to suit their own personal ambitions. The priests were not men of faith, they were men of ambition and power.
Now as Derai sat in her darkened apartment, not even a candle lit, tears ran from her beautiful green eyes and down her pretty face. Oh how she longed for love. She knew the love of her God. Yet she was a woman and longed for the warmth of a husband’s caresses and someone to share what was left of her human existence. Saul had long since lost his passion for her. It had lasted for a time as she was a very attractive woman in her youth. The lot of a King it seemed. With so many beautiful women to choose from, all so willing to give themselves over to him, the King had no reason to seek her out.
She thought of her young love and the one night she had shared with him. How she longed for that kind of passion. The pleasure and pain of that evening had stayed with her. Yes she was ashamed of how she had behaved, a married woman giving herself to another man. However she did not regret the night at all. On the contrary, it was what sustained her. Her prayers were that one day God would free her to marry her love. It was unlikely, yet she had to hold on to hope. It was all she had apart from her blessed son Jonathan.
She now spent her days amongst the officials of court. As Saul’s first wife she was still entitled to some liberties that his many other wives did not have. She had her own apartments and did not share rooms with the multitude of wives, the names of whom Saul probably no longer remembered. She was the official wife though, who took part in official engagements including entertaining visiting dignitaries of neighbouring nations. If not for her faith, her meditation and time in prayer she would really have felt the hopelessness of her life.
She had taken to running of late. She loved getting out in the fresh air. It was something she could do free of all other responsibilities. She was not allowed out in the open so she ran in the large gardens of the palace, along the paths, through the trees, around the pond. It was an exhilarating experience. She was gaining strength each day and it was the only part of her life she felt she could control. Derai had tried playing politics with the council, tried manipulating them to see matters from her perspective. It was a very unfulfilling role and she decided to leave matters to God to sort out. He had allowed this mess to happen so he must have a plan to see it through. She decided long ago, that matters of the nation were not for her to concern herself with. All she could do was ensure that everything she did was right according to her own beliefs and conscience. This was what she would be judged on and this alone.
Chapter 9
It was dawn and Saul had only arrived back to camp late the afternoon before. Now he paced as he watched the Philistine army line up again as the sun slowly rose over the hillside. He felt ill at ease; something was not quite right. It made no sense. He had spent the previous night with Jezebel. Granted, he had been quite exhausted from the day’s travel and had taken her quickly and roughly before collapsing into a deep sleep. However his restless tension was not satisfied. His silent thoughts were shattered b
y one of his officers. 'Sir, Martinez has been seen by the lookout riding at speed.'
'Send a scout out with a fresh horse for him. I want him here as soon as possible. If he has been coming at speed his mount will be exhausted.'
'Yes sir, on my way personally sir,' replied the officer. He ducked out from the tent and ran for a mount. He vaulted on the back of the horse and bolted for the hilltop. As he crested the ridge he could see Martinez, Jonathan and the boy coming at speed amongst a dust cloud. He slowly picked his way down the slope and once at the bottom of the embankment he pushed the horse into a full gallop. Minutes later he met with Martinez, 'Sir, the King wishes you to take this mount and attend him immediately, he is waiting for you.'
'Thank you Bartholomew,' replied Martinez as he vaulted from the saddle. 'Do not kill those horses Jonathan, but make good time getting to Caligree. Things may be moving very fast by now.' He quickly mounted the fresh horse and galloped back to the encampment.
Once he arrived he was escorted into the King’s meeting tent where Saul waited eagerly for news. He bowed to the King. ‘For goodness sake Martinez, this is no time for formality. What has brought you in such a hurry back to the camp? What did you discover?'
Martinez took his breath. 'The Philistines have gathered mercenaries sir. They will be here in not much over a day, I estimate approximately thirty six hours.'
The King stood still for a moment, taking his time to digest the report. 'I wondered as much; they seemed somehow more confident this morning as they mustered up into their lines. I might have known they were expecting reinforcements. We cannot expect any such help, so I think we need to act soon and pray for some divine intervention.' Martinez nodded his agreement and said a silent prayer for the latter.