by Brian Godawa
Achish floundered in confusion. “Why did you not tell me, if you thought this?”
“I tried, my Lord. But you would not listen.” The other Lords of the pentapolis could not possibly know that she was the liar. She was so seductively believable in her beautiful queenly outfit. She had made sure to reveal cleavage so as to distract the minds of the Lords in her favor.
She summed it up with firm conviction, “My Lord Achish, I believe the Israelite David plans to kill you in battle. It is a brilliant long-planned conspiracy.”
Achish said, “But why did he not kill me all this year? He had plenty of chances in close proximity to me.”
Bisha countered, “But not in the sight of his king, before whom he seeks to justify himself as true believer.”
Ishbi jumped in. “As a leader of the Sons of Rapha, I concur with Lady Bisha’s assessment. I ask for the Lords’ permission to arrest this traitor immediately and execute him.”
“You will do no such thing!” yelled Achish. “This is speculation. Until I have had a better chance to examine the claims and evidence, David remains under my protective custody.”
Dothan spoke again. “Nevertheless, Achish, you must accept the fact that there are enough witnesses that this Israelite is too questionable to risk putting your life in his hands.”
Bisha started reconsidering whether the potential death of Achish may be desirable after all.
Tarhunda of Gaza added, “His presence jeopardizes the mission. We cannot allow it.”
“I prayed to Asherah and received a vision,” interrupted Bisha. The men all looked at her. “If you lead David on, you can sally him forth into battle. Then withdraw your forces and allow him to be slaughtered by Saul, whom you then slaughter. You can crush this Seed of Abraham and his messianic pretender with one stone to the forehead.”
The ironic imagery she evoked was not missed by any of them.
“It is too risky,” complained Mutallu of Ashdod.
“I agree with Mutallu,” said Suwardata of Ashkelon. “We do not even know if David will advance against his own people. If he does not, you remain in jeopardy, Achish.”
Tarhunda added, “We all remain in jeopardy with that possible traitor behind our lines.”
“He is not a traitor!” yelled Achish.
Dothan spoke calmly, “The council has already decided, Achish. Send David back to Ziklag. He shall not go down with us to battle.”
“You decided this before I arrived here?” said Achish crestfallen.
“Achish,” said Dothan, “this matter is too close to you. We had to.”
Achish gave a look of betrayal at Bisha and then the others. He sighed and said the formal acknowledgement, “So be the wisdom of the council.”
The five Lords responded, “So be the wisdom of the council.”
Achish began to plot the murder of Bisha.
• • • • •
Ishbi and Runihura led a guard accompanying Achish back to David’s regiment. Achish demanded that his escort wait outside David’s tent as Achish told him the news. Ishbi and Runihura kept their Lord in visible sight through the tent entrance. It was all they could do to keep from attacking the enemy target protected by their king.
“What have I done?” said David. “What have you found in your servant from the day I entered your service until now, that I may not go and fight against the enemies of my lord the king?”
“Nothing,” replied Achish. “I have found nothing wrong in you from the day of your coming to me to this very day. I told them as much. You have been honest and I trust you with my life.”
“But the Lords of the Philistines do not. Why?”
“David, please return peaceably to Ziklag and I will meet with you after this campaign.”
David would not stop. “What do they think I am going to do, turn on you and kill you in the battle? After all this time I have shown my loyalty? That is ridiculous!”
It was exactly what he planned to do. In the midst of battle, he was going to thrust a javelin through the pudgy gut of this Yahweh-hating pile of excrement.
Achish said, “You are as blameless in my sight as an angel.”
The angel of death, thought David.
But David said, “My heart is grieved,” as he thought, That my plans for bringing Yahweh victory are now delayed.
The glaring distrust of the Rephaim giants outside the tent ensured that David could not get away with an assassination at this moment.
Achish said, “It would be best if you depart early in the morning, as soon as there is light. We do not want you to draw attention.”
“I will do as you say, my lord,” said David. “Though all doubt my loyalty and devotion, yet I remain allegiant to my Lord.” He thought, To my Lord Yahweh, that is.
Achish embraced David and whispered, “You have been like a son to me.”
David thought, I am no son of a serpent.
Then he said, “May my lord live, till next we meet.”
He thought, That I may strike you down still.
Chapter 71
Saul approached a cave in the foothills of Endor, within a few miles of his encamped army on Mount Gilboa. He would have called the close proximity a miraculous provision, but since Yahweh had forsaken him, he could only consider it luck. The person he was visiting was the Ob of Endor, whom he had visited years ago.
Since Saul had captured the area from the Philistines, he had outlawed all necromancy and sorcery under pain of death. So the Ob had abandoned her original home in the city of Endor and found this cave in the foothills from which she could continue her work without arrest.
For that reason, Saul disguised himself in a common cloak and hood with a mere two soldiers to guard him, also dressed as commoners to avoid detection. It would not do well for the king’s reputation to visit an Ob in direct defiance of his own law. But it was doubly dangerous because the Philistines were mustering at Shunem which lay in between Endor and Gilboa. If Saul was captured, it would end the war between the two nations in favor of the Philistines.
He paid an informant to lead him to the location before which he now stood. It was a small hidden opening in the rocks, leading into a grotto that was set up for the Ob’s practice. A small fire burned at the mouth of the space, and scattered incense sensors gave off their lofty smoke. The scent immediately made Saul a bit light-headed.
A figure came out of the smoky curtain of incense: the Ob. She was the same beautiful young woman with brunette hair and reptilian slivered pupils. This time, he noticed something new about her. Her forehead appeared to have serpent-like scales that blended down into the smooth pale skin of her face. Saul could not tell if they were tattooed or real scales. He crouched his shoulders and pulled his hood tighter so she could not recognize him from his past visit. If she discovered his true identity, she would think he was there to execute her and he might lose his opportunity to do what he came for. He changed his voice to sound like a scruffy old man.
“Ob,” he croaked. “Divine for me by a spirit and bring up for me whomever I shall name to you.” He threw a bag of coins at her feet.
She didn’t pick it up. She stared at him skeptically. She spoke with the hiss of a snake.
“Surely you know what Saul has done. He has cut off the mediums and the necromancers from the land.”
Saul said, “Saul is not here to know, now is he?”
“Are you laying a trap for my life?” she asked.
He said, “As Yahweh lives, no punishment shall come upon you for this exchange. We will not speak of it outside of this cave.”
She stared at him in stone silence for what seemed like minutes. Saul’s eyes adjusted to the low light and he could finally see the serpentine shadows slithering around them in the dark. He knew that she could call upon her “servants” to attack if she felt endangered.
The Ob was no idiot. She knew these men were in disguise. They were not normal men. That they swore upon the name of the Hebrew god meant they were
Israelites, which did not bode well.
On the other hand, the Philistines were encamped between her cave outside Endor and Saul’s forces on Mount Gilboa, so the likelihood of their king surviving the next few days was slim anyway. He would most likely not survive to continue persecuting her.
She picked up the bag of coins and finally spoke, “Who shall I bring up for you?”
Saul smiled with satisfaction hidden in the shadow of his hood. “Samuel the Israelite Seer.”
The Ob tilted her head with curiosity at the request. She reached over, grabbed a shovel and pick that was against the wall, and threw them at Saul’s feet with the same kind of disdain that the bag of coins had been thrown down at her feet.
“Dig a pit,” she said. “Six feet deep.”
Saul turned to his two companions, who picked up the tools and began to dig. The Ob knew this old man was not who he appeared to be. He was some kind of leader.
The men finished the pit. The Ob had them slaughter a black pig as before and placed its body at the edge of the pit as a sacrifice. She dropped some burning logs from her fire into the pit along with some incense. The smoke rose and filled the room.
She placed some foodstuffs and wine at the pit’s edge to call up the spirit with offerings to consume. She also threw a piece of Saul’s silver into the pit, as part of the conjuring.
The Ob ritually rubbed salve on her face. Its glistening in the firelight gave her already unearthly look an added ghostly aura.
She gave Saul a dagger to cut his palm, as they had done years before. He cupped his hand so she could not see the previous scar and recognize him. He then squeezed his blood into the burning hole. She chanted under her breath the whole time.
Her body started twitching and convulsing. Saul’s body started twitching in like manner. She noticed it and immediately knew this old man was inhabited by a spirit. She sensed a familiarity but could not place it. So she concentrated on the ritual.
Her usual routine was to call up her familiar spirits, who would then masquerade as whatever loved one the client of the Ob had asked for. As spirits they had access to some secret knowledge. But they were not Yahweh. They did not have all-knowing powers. They also used some information gleaned by the questions asked by the Ob of the client beforehand.
The Ob went into a trance of swaying before finally crying out, “I call forth the spirit of Samuel the Israelite Seer! Samuel, come forth!”
She twitched some more. Saul twitched some more.
She saw it before Saul or his men could. She stepped back in fright. It was not one of her familiar spirits.
It was Samuel the Seer.
The evidence finally came clear to her; the familiar spirit in the old man, his leader status, his disguise. This was not an old man with her. She turned to him angrily. “You have deceived me. You are King Saul!”
Saul was increasingly losing control of his muscular movements. But he could still speak. He said, “Do not be afraid. Please, just tell me what you see.”
She said, “I see an elohim coming up out of the earth. An old man wrapped in a robe.”
Saul threw back his hood and bowed to the ground in homage. The other two men followed suit.
Slowly, they looked up.
And everyone saw the image in the flames. It was shadowy, and just as she had described him, an old man in a diviner-prophet’s robe. It was Samuel.
The spirit spoke with fiery indignance, “Why have you disturbed me by bringing me up?”
“Forgive me, Samuel,” replied Saul. “But I had no other recourse. The Philistines are at war with me, and Yahweh has forsaken me. He answers me no more through prophets, dreams or Urim. I summoned you to tell me what I should do.”
The spirit remained perturbed. “You are still the fool I left you as. Yahweh has become your enemy and you think I, his prophet, would not also be? You have deserved everything I prophesied. Yahweh has torn the kingdom from your hands and has given it to David.”
“But why?” interrupted Saul. “What have I done to deserve his wrath?”
“SILENCE! You fool. How often have I told you? Yahweh has done this to you because you did not carry out his wrath against the Amalekites.”
Saul trembled uncontrollably.
“Moreover, Yahweh will give you and Israel over into the hands of the Philistines and tomorrow, you and your sons shall be with me.”
“No! No!” cried Saul. “No! No! NO! NO!”
The spirit of Samuel faded into the ground.
Saul started convulsing. Guttural sounds came from his throat. It was like something inside him was trying to come out. It was something inside him trying to come out: Nimrod. In the face of such sure doom, even the evil spirit would have nothing to do with Saul.
Saul’s body flopped around like a fish out of water sucking air. The two men tried to hold him down. But suddenly an ear-piercing screech came out of Saul’s gullet. It was not his own. It was the bellowing of the mighty evil spirit of Nimrod being ripped from his host to return to Sheol where he belonged.
Saul went limp. The spirit was gone.
As Saul came back to consciousness, the Ob became desperate to protect herself. While Saul was still shaking off his dizzy confusion, she blurted out, “Behold, your servant has obeyed you. I have taken my life in my hand and have listened to what you have said to me. Remember the obedience of your servant and the covenant you cut with me.”
“What difference does it make, hag?” said Saul. “Have you not been listening?”
Saul felt a strange sense of loss. He had just been released from an evil spirit that had taunted him for many years. But after being rejected by Yahweh and his prophets, and his entire family, even such a spirit was a kind of comfort. He had counseled with it, and he had developed a relationship with it. It had become his only companion in a world of rejection.
But now, it too was gone, with all its rage and hatred and manipulation. But it was gone. And he was now more alone than ever in a vast void of emptiness. At least possession by an evil spirit meant he was considered of some value to someone. Now, he was of no value at all. All hopes for greatness and glory had evaporated into nothing. Now, if Samuel’s prophesy was correct, and he always was, Saul was about to face the total oblivion of Sheol.
But Saul could not begin to explain this feeling of despair to anyone. So he said simply, “I need some food and rest and we will be on our way.”
Chapter 72
Samuel was not the only one summoned to the cave at Endor that evening. After Saul had left to return to his camp, Ba’alzebul, Asherah, Dagon, and Resheph and Qeteb arrived at the Ob’s residence. Several miles away, in the camp of the Philistines, they had heard the demonic scream of Nimrod leaving Saul and knew something significant had occurred that could affect the outcome of their plans.
The Ob nearly fainted at their entrance. She had endured the most difficult night of her life, and now it had become the most frightening. Why were the mighty Canaanite gods of storm, sea, pestilence and plague visiting her? What was this confluence of supernatural warfare that was going on?
She told them what had happened with Saul and Samuel.
Asherah thought out loud to the group, “So that is why there is no heavenly host at this battle. David has left and Saul is to be killed.”
Ba’alzebul said, “David will be king.”
Dagon said, “Shall we go after David?”
“No,” said Asherah. “That is exactly where the heavenly host will be.”
Dagon said, “But can we not bring the fight with us? The assembly will be here soon.”
Resheph spoke up. “The assembly will not be coming.”
The others looked at Resheph with surprise. Qeteb stepped closer to him as a team and said, “They appointed us as ambassadors to convey intelligence to the assembly. They said if David was not here, they would not show up for battle.”
“Spies!” spit Dagon.
“Not spies,” said Resheph. “Messengers
.”
“Spies,” repeated Dagon.
Dagon stepped closer in hostility. The two tightened their stance, looked at Ba’alzebul to see what the mighty storm god might do. They were afraid of him alone. The others, they could handle.
Asherah shouted, “Dagon, pull your cock back! They are right. It is entirely reasonable for the assembly to appoint messengers, and we are not the most objectively reliable in this scenario.” She knew they would only lessen their chances of victory if they created a rift of hostility within the assembly and became divided. She had to maintain the illusion of unity and subordination.
“Tell the assembly,” said Asherah, “that we affirm their plans to call off the fight, and will notify them of any future opportunities to kill the messiah king.”
Ba’alzebul watched her closely. He knew exactly what she was doing and had thought of the same thing himself. They were becoming quite united in their ability to strategize.
“I have a better idea,” said Ba’alzebul. “Tell them the three of us will fight to protect Saul. It will be our contribution to thwart Yahweh’s plans and keep the messiah from rising.”
“Brilliant,” Asherah smiled. “Deliciously brilliant.” Protecting Yahweh’s currently anointed king would be the opposite of what the heavenly host expected of the gods. It would place the archangels in the unenviable position of having to fight on behalf of the Philistines.
Dagon was completely frustrated that his rule of the Philistine dominion in Canaan was being co-opted by these two glory-seekers. He would not speak up, he just boiled with bile.
Then Asherah looked at him and winked. Ba’alzebul had not seen it. She must have been acknowledging that their conspiracy against Ba’alzebul was still on.
Resheph and Qeteb took their leave to return to Mount Hermon.
The gods suddenly became aware that they had become completely engrossed in their discussion. They had forgotten that the Ob was listening to them the entire time.
Asherah stepped up to her. The Ob stepped back frightened. Asherah assured her with a smile as she stooped down to her knee to look her in the face. She stroked the human’s face and said, “My dear Ob, you have been so helpful to us. Allow me to show our gratitude for your loyalty.”