Abigail (The Wives of King David Book #2): A Novel

by Jill Eileen Smith

  29

  The dining hall overflowed with people, the men seated nearest the king and the women at the back closest to the walls. Men’s voices rose and fell in boisterous laughter as the food was set before them—platters of meat and fish, dates and figs, leeks and lentils, and wine in abundance. Their conversations drowned out the women’s quieter voices, forcing Abigail to focus on her food instead of Ahinoam and Maacah, David’s newest wife, and the wives of David’s captains seated near her.

  The first year of David’s rule in Hebron had passed, and war between the house of Saul and the house of David loomed on the horizon, with Abner working to gather support to formally proclaim Ishbosheth king of Israel.

  Amnon’s childish chatter caught Abigail’s attention, and she glanced at Ahinoam’s young son, then looked quickly away. She caught sight of Maacah’s seductive eyes fixed on David as the woman daintily bit into a fresh date and then slowly licked her lips. The woman had wasted no time squeezing her way into David’s affections, and Abigail had no doubt that Maacah would be the next one to bear David a son. Abigail had been married to Nabal for three years and to David for more than three, and she still carried no child in her womb. She had finally resigned herself to the fact that she was undoubtedly barren, like David’s first wife Michal.

  The thought still pained her despite her resignation, but the sting had lost some of its edge. She picked a fresh date from a platter, her gaze taking in the scene before her. David leaned on a couch of soft cushions surrounded by his closest advisors, his expression thoughtful but distant, as though he was only half listening. His dark eyes looked over the crowd, pausing every now and then to assess a man, then abruptly he turned to show interest to someone seated near him.

  Daniel had the privilege of sitting at the king’s table this night, and Abigail could only imagine how excited and proud that must make her brother feel. He’d been pining for months, years in fact, to join the band dubbed “David’s mighty men,” and he’d taken who knew what risks to gain military acclaim and catch David’s favor. But other men had always surpassed his prowess, killing more of the enemy or doing some uncommon feat, like Benaiah, David’s bodyguard who had killed a lion in a pit on a snowy day.

  Somehow Daniel’s actions never quite caught David’s military eye the way Daniel had hoped, despite his connection to her. Even now, as Daniel sat near the king, she could see David paying little attention to her brother. Had he grown weary of her family as he had appeared to have grown weary of her?

  A yearning in her heart made her look away from her husband’s handsome face, determined not to give in to the melancholy that threatened her. She should be proud that he had finally achieved his dreams, that Adonai had shined on David with such pleasure. If only the people would favor him a little less, would not consider their daughters as such wonderful gifts to offer their king. She had already endured David’s marriage to the foreigner Maacah, and rumor had it that another wedding to the fair Haggith would take place before the month was out.

  “Try to at least appear interested in the meal, my daughter. You are a woman of privilege, wife of the king, yet your mouth is curled in such a dour expression. If the king does notice you, he will most certainly not be attracted to such a display.” Abigail’s mother lowered her body to the end of Abigail’s couch and scooted closer to her daughter, placing a comforting hand on her arm. “Be grateful, Abigail dear,” she whispered close to Abigail’s ear, the scent of honey on her lips.

  Abigail straightened and did her best to offer her mother a convincing smile, knowing that David hadn’t gotten close enough to notice her moods in weeks. The thought added to the sinking feeling that warred with her appetite. She drew a deep breath and bid the feelings subside, reminding herself yet again that her mother was right. She tasted another date and glanced at her husband, whose attention was occupied.

  “I try, Mama.” She picked up her silver goblet and gazed at the wine swirling untouched at the bottom. “If only Adonai would grant us a son . . .” She blinked, surprised at the wave of emotion she carried. She swallowed and tried again. “David hasn’t called for me in weeks.” To admit such a thing made her feel like a failure.

  “He is a busy man with far too many demands on his time. I’m sure he still cares for you, dear one.” Her mother’s tone gentled. She plucked a thick piece of fish from a platter, scooped up leeks and two juicy slices of melon, and plopped them onto Abigail’s tray. “You need nourishment. You will waste away to nothing at the rate you are eating.”

  “I’m not hungry, Mama.”

  Her mother regarded her, turning her chin to look into her eyes. “Is a son all that worries you, my daughter? Or is there something you are not telling me?”

  Her mother had always been a strong woman, having endured the loss of several children between her and Daniel. She would understand Abigail’s fears, but the tension she’d always created in Abigail made her reluctant to confide in her. Especially not here. If she were indeed barren, which would be more obvious if David were more attentive, the news would come out soon enough when all of David’s other wives began to beget children and she did not. So far, only Ahinoam had birthed a son, and even she had not begat another since Amnon’s birth. If Maacah were with child, she would have flaunted it in Abigail’s face. Not that she didn’t try to keep David to herself every chance she got.

  Abigail cast a sidelong glance toward the two women who shared her husband, noting the distance between them and the wall of hostility each put up as an invisible barrier. A deep shudder worked through her, and she leaned closer to her mother. Despite the tension, her mother was someone she could trust.

  “It’s hard to share him, Mama.” She swirled the liquid in her chalice. “I fear we will never . . . I mean, he will never . . .” Heat crept up her neck, warming her cheeks.

  Her mother reached for her arm and gently squeezed. “He will, dear. Of course he will. But you must do all in your power to make him want to. Make yourself visible, eat properly, smile coyly at him when he looks your way. There are ways a woman can beguile a man, you know.”

  “Of course.” She knew. Didn’t she? She’d seen Maacah use her wiles on David often enough, and he had always seemed powerless to pull away from her, even when his expression told Abigail he might have preferred a quiet evening with her. “I will try harder, Mama.” She rested the chalice on the table and patted her mother’s hand. “Thank you.”

  “What else are mothers for? If only your sister-in-law were as willing to listen.” Mama lifted her hands in a defeated gesture. “Ach. I try with that one, but she is forever letting that brother of yours do whatever he pleases without a single word of caution. Men don’t know their own minds. But you know this, don’t you, dear? They need a strong woman to guide them, as you did for David when he nearly went off on a fool’s errand to kill your first husband. Where would we be now if you hadn’t intervened? David thinks he has troubles with Israel following Saul’s son now. Things would be even worse if he’d taken vengeance on Nabal.”

  Her mother prattled on as she was wont to do, while Abigail’s thoughts drifted. She was not willing to get caught up in her mother’s complaints about Talya. Her sister-in-law respected her brother, far more than Mama did Abba. She wouldn’t fault her for that no matter what her mother said. “Now your father, he knows when to listen to me. He isn’t so foolish that he would go off to war trying to win David’s favor, making me worry so. What is wrong with your brother that he keeps seeking some ridiculous military glory? Perhaps if you spoke to David . . .”

  Abigail looked across the room again at the mention of David’s name, her heart tripping at the sight of him, and in that moment, he glanced her way. Their gazes held, and on instinct she turned her head to the side and lifted a brow, offering him a distinctly suggestive smile. His eyes widened in response, alight with something akin to amusement. He lifted a hand to his beard, toying with a smile. She turned her head and lifted her chin, raising a hand to c
over her mouth.

  He waved a servant toward him, never taking his eyes from hers despite the tables and men between them. She watched him lean toward the servant and whisper something in his ear. The man bowed and left, and David glanced her way again, gave her a slight nod, then turned back to his advisors. Musicians tuned their instruments and began a lively song, while jugglers and dancers swayed between the tables throughout the hall.

  Abigail realized that her mother had stopped talking and was now giving her a look that said she’d seen what had transpired between her and David.

  At the end of the first set of songs, the servant David had spoken to approached her table. “My lady Abigail.”

  She turned to face him. “Yes?”

  “The king has requested you come with me.”

  Abigail rose quickly, but not before her mother caught her arm and half rose to whisper in her ear, “See if you can get the king to keep Daniel from any more military excursions. I promised Talya I would ask you.”

  The man cleared his throat, and Abigail glanced at her mother, then hurried to excuse herself from the banquet. Did Talya put her mother up to this? If so, why would her mother complain that Talya never tried to talk sense into Daniel?

  She shook the thoughts aside, her heart thudding harder in anticipation as she followed the man from the hall down through the family courtyard, to David’s private chambers. Female servants met her there and spent the next hour perfuming her body, sweetening her breath, and dressing her in fine white linen.

  She felt his presence before she heard him. The chattering girls attending her giggled, then hurried from the room, leaving her alone with him. He stood there, leaning one hand on the threshold beneath the arch leading to his spacious chambers. His dark eyes were lit with pleasure and roamed over her slowly, as though he were savoring the moment.

  “It’s been too long, Abigail.”

  “Yes, my lord, it has.” She stood still, not sure how to proceed, unused to plying feminine wiles to get what she wanted. She was too used to trying to appease angry men.

  But by the look on David’s face, he was far from angry. He closed the door behind him and took a step toward her, then another. He removed the gilded leather belt from his waist and slipped the purple robe from his back, flinging it over the couch. He stopped in front of her and pulled her into his arms. His kiss was warm and comforting, like sweet wine for the thirsty.

  “I’ve missed you.” He traced a finger down her bare arm. She shivered involuntarily when his hands rested on her middle, and he placed one hand over her womb. “Amnon is a fine boy.”

  His dark eyes searched hers, and she returned his gaze, wishing she could hide the pain that statement evoked. Why talk of Ahinoam’s child now? This was their time, and she didn’t want to share it with another.

  “Yes, my lord, I’m sure he is.”

  He pulled the combs from her hair, letting it tumble down her back. “It’s time you had a son of your own.”

  His words and the tender way he looked at her brought a rush of emotions to the surface, feelings she’d locked away for months, unable to say to anyone, even him. She lowered her head, not trusting her voice, and studied her feet.

  “Don’t cry, beloved.” He kissed the tears that had slipped out unbidden and took her hand, intertwining their fingers. “I’m sorry I’ve neglected you, but I’m here now. Let me make it up to you.” He tugged her toward his bed, pulling her down beside him.

  Everything she’d planned to say to him the next time she finally had him to herself—the concerns about her barrenness, the pain of sharing him, along with her mother’s request for Daniel—fled her mind as she lost herself in his love.

  Before the sun rose, David met with Joab, Abishai, and Asahel over a morning repast of sheep cheeses and fruits. The troops were headed to Gibeon, and David wanted to be sure they were prepared to negotiate with Abner, to bring as little bloodshed as possible to their people. The war between Judah and Israel had already lasted a year, and David longed to see it come to a swift end. He couldn’t help but worry about the long-term outcome of such civil strife.

  “Perhaps we could pose a champion battle as the Philistines did with Goliath,” Abishai suggested, biting off a large hunk of soft cheese. “We just need a giant, head and shoulders taller than the rest.”

  “Or a young man with a stone and sling.” Asahel looked at David and smirked, then laughed at his own humor. David’s nephew had been but a child when David had gone up against Goliath.

  “Keep in mind that the champion fight was only the start of the battle that day.” David leaned back in his chair, stretched his legs out before him, and crossed them at the ankles. “The whole army pursued the Philistines all the way to the entrance of Gath and the gates of Ekron. I know Abner may push you to fight him hard, but I don’t want to see our brothers destroyed. Do what you can to minimize the losses.” He ran a hand over his beard, thinking not for the first time that life would be so much simpler if Abner would come over to his side and work with him instead of against him. “We need to put an end to the civil war as soon as possible.”

  “Abner is a fool. He will fight to keep control of Israel until he breathes his last.” Joab stood to pace the room, hands behind his back.

  “Abner is ambitious. He knows a good thing when he sees it, and he sees power in supporting Ishbosheth. But he is wise enough to know he can’t win forever. In the meantime, I want to keep the bloodshed minimal.” David glanced at the window where the sun had now fully crested the eastern horizon. “Your troops will be waiting.” He stood, dismissing his nephews. “May God go with you.”

  Each nodded in respect and headed to the door.

  “Report to me as soon as you return.” David watched them leave, then returned to his chambers to find Abigail.

  The cistern at Gibeon circled down into a black abyss where water collected during the heavy rains and a spring wound its way from the hills leading to the pool. Joab stood facing his two brothers a stone’s throw from where Daniel waited with Asahel’s troop. Daniel was close enough to hear, though Joab would never actually include him, the king’s own brother-in-law, in the conversation.

  “We’ll divide into three groups and come at them from before and behind, and some will hold back and reinforce whichever group needs the most help.” Joab looked at Abishai. “Your men will circle around behind. I’ll take the frontal attack.” His gaze shifted to Asahel, and Daniel cautiously moved closer. “Asahel, keep your men back and wait for my signal.”

  “What about the contest the king suggested? Are we simply going to ignore that?” Abishai cast a glance Daniel’s way and frowned, then nodded his head in Abner’s direction, across the Gibeon pool.

  Joab thrust his hands behind his back and tapped a foot impatiently. “Contests don’t eliminate the need to fight.”

  “They can determine the outcome, though,” Asahel put in, “as the Philistines can so readily attest—when they will actually admit that they lost a son of Anak to a mere shepherd boy.”

  Commotion and movement across the pool drew Daniel’s attention. Abner’s forces moved with rhythmic precision into strict military formation, standing at attention, facing the pool and Joab’s waiting men.

  Daniel’s pulse quickened at the sight, his blood rushing hot through his veins. If they posed a contest, he would fight in it. He would prove to the king that he was worthy to be counted among David’s mighty men, that he was not some weak-kneed woman who needed to be kept from harm’s way. If he didn’t know better, he would almost wonder if Abigail had said something to David to keep him from seeing any real battles.

  Daniel leaned his head to the wind, feeling the breeze cool his hot face, the heat not coming from the mild warmth of the sun but from the stirrings of anger in his heart. Abigail would never do such a thing to him. Though Mama might.

  He turned at the rustling sound of Abner’s men as some squatted and some sat cross-legged among the rough grasses of the plain
.

  “What are they doing?” Had he missed something while letting his mind wander?

  “Same thing we’re doing,” Asahel said, coming up behind Daniel. He motioned for him to join the rest of the soldiers on the ground.

  Daniel knew better than to argue or assert any perceived authority he might have as brother-in-law to the king. Joab, Abishai, and Asahel were the obvious favorite captains in David’s army. Everyone else did as they said.

  Pockets of conversation filled his ears as he crept from his position toward Joab’s men seated closest to the pool. Abner, King Saul’s former commander, stood and cupped both hands over his mouth. “Let’s have some of the young men stand up and fight hand to hand in front of us.”

  Would Joab take the challenge? Daniel’s pulse quickened, pinpricks dotting his skin. He could do this. He was most skilled with a sling, as any shepherd would be, but he’d had plenty of practice fighting Amalekites and Geshurites under David’s command—proof enough that he deserved some recognition. He tamped his anger down and stood.

  Such a contest would prove his worth as a man, forever erasing the smear on his family name and making a place for himself without the help of a wife, mother, or sister.

  “All right. Let them do it.” Joab’s response should not have surprised him. This was it then. He hurried forward and stopped a handbreadth from Joab.

  “How many men?” Abner’s voice carried across the pool. Joab’s hard, beady eyes narrowed. His gaze moved from Abner to the first row of his men, his gaze skimming Daniel’s. He crossed his arms over his brawny chest, shifting toward Abner. “Twelve men, one for each tribe.”

  Despite the fact that this was a civil war and neither side could boast men from all twelve tribes, the number made some kind of twisted sense, perhaps proving one side deserved the support of all twelve tribes over the other.

  Daniel stepped closer, drawing Joab’s attention. “Let me go.” Daniel stiffened at Joab’s glower, knowing he would have to fight his commander before he ever fought his opponent. “You know I can do this. Let me fight for David.”