She gasps, as if to ask, What?
“It’s falling out of place,” I say, hoping she cannot hear the slight tremble in the back of my voice. “Now, tuck it under me. And where’s the woolen one?”
“Are you cold?” she asks, and I can hear a sudden astonishment.
“No,” I lie, and in my mind I cannot help cursing my bad luck with women. If I am hot, they are cold. If I am cold, they are hot!
As if to spite me there is always a battle, not for glory, or for survival or the spoils of war or or some other lofty goal—but rather for control, petty control over the stupid feather-stuffed thing.
“Just, humor me now,” I say. “Pull it over my shoulders. And the other one too. I like the feel of wool. It reminds me of where I came from.”
“Yes,” she whispers. “That I understand.”
“Wool,” I say. “It has the smell of home.”
“Yes,” she says. “It’s the only thing here that does. My God, everything around you is scented, heavily so. At times it makes me wonder what it might smell otherwise.”
I hold myself back from saying, You don’t really want to know. Without these exotic perfumes—which I can afford because her father and other peasants like him have been paying heavy taxes—things in the palace would stink. I mean, really.
Of all my senses, smell is the only one that has remained sharp. So without doubt, this I know: My flesh has begun to rot. Without the delicately calculated mix of my cologne, the odor of my body would gnaw at you.
She pulls the woolen blanket over my ears, on top of a pile of other layers. Then, lowering her eyes with what seems like a childish shyness, she draws closer and wraps her arms around me.
I have no doubt she is a virgin. Joav is quite particular when it comes to choosing merchandise, for himself or for me. But at this moment, one thing becomes clear to me: innocent she is not.
Which arouses in me a sudden, inexplicable disdain, even anger for her. How can a man pursue a woman, when she is this obedient?
She knows her duty all too well.
Her wiry little fingers touch my shoulders, and ever so playfully they draw circles on my skin: starting at my chest, going down my sunken ribs, and around my back to the base of my spine. And then, all of a sudden, something happens to me that I could see coming, that I have feared for some time now—yet it is something for which I find myself miserably ill-prepared.
“What’s the matter?” she whispers.
I can barely answer. “Nothing.”
In place of the usual stirring in my loins, the quickening of the pulse, and the uncontrollable burst of desire, the only thing in me is just this: nothing.
I listen to the whoosh of air being sucked slowly into my lungs, wishing that somehow, it would revive me.
But even as the air leaves me I am still here just as before, crumpled into a lump. I am not me. I am an old man. Limp. Worse than dead.
“I don’t understand,” she says.
“Yes,” I say, mostly to myself. “Neither do I.”
I am overcome by some inexplicable weight that sits right here, on my breastbone. Call it pity or grief… But for what, for whom I cannot tell, no, I cannot admit even to myself.
Before she can go on with her pointless chitchat I turn over. Peering through the slits of my drooping eyelids, all I see now is her shadow. It hangs on the wall, long-necked and curvaceous, swallowing mine.
Then—still with her arms locked around me—she lays her head back, for which I am grateful. This way she cannot see how I weep, she cannot suspect that the pillow under my chin is turning soggy. Oh damn. I cannot stop these tears.
Trapped here in her embrace, I am mourning something I cannot snatch back from the hand of time. Something that by some spell used to let me feel invincible. I never thought I would lose it.
Youth.
How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me?
The first ray of sun has just come in through the window, and it reaches in over her, over me. It is fingering the wall, a touch here, a touch there, lifting the darkness spot by spot until—coming to touch the tip of my sword—it seems to catch fire.
I remember that day, when I faced my first enemy and released him of his life and his weapon. I am, am I not, the slayer of Goliath. This blade of his has been hanging here over my head for ages. And now, in a flash—in the blinding light reflected back from the steely surface—I can spot myself in it.
Is it me, really? Who is this decrepit creature, clinging to the corner of a blanket to wipe his face, curled here in a fetal position, with his back to a faceless girl?
Come morning I should ask her name. Joav might have told me, but at this moment I cannot bring myself to remember it. Remembering has become too much of an effort, especially when it comes to the present.
There is only one thing I seem to know: her future. She is, and may always remain, untouched.
*
And at the last moment before my eyes close, before it is time to sleep, the light grows stronger. It bursts out with a shine brighter than anything I have seen, anything I have imagined before. A gentle wind starts blowing into the silk curtains overhead, filling them till they become pregnant with air. In one breath they open wide apart, to reveal naked walls. A minute later, the entire palace crumbles to dust, and from it a great valley breaks open.
It is then that I realize one thing: I must have been mistaken. It is not an old man that is reflected here, in the metallic surface. Instead it is someone else, someone I wish I could become one more time.
There is David, a young boy with sharp eyes. Morning breeze plays with his curls. It whispers words of hope and promise in his ear. Yet unscarred by battle, his arms are smooth, his hands—strong. They are the hands of a killer.
There is David. Focusing his eyes across the valley, the boy is looking for a way to become larger than life. There he stands, ready for his enemy. Ready for the kill.
I am his future, but he is oblivious to me. I smile at him.
He is slow to smile back.
To be continued with the next book:
THE DAVID CHRONICLES
Volume II
Bathsheba
About this Book
Here is the story of David as you have never heard it before: from the king himself, telling the unofficial version, the one he never allowed his court scribes to recount. In his mind, history is written to praise the victorious—but at the last stretch of his illustrious life, he feels an irresistible urge to tell the truth. In the first volume, Rise to Power, David gives you a fascinating account of his early years, culminating with a tribal coronation. Rooted in ancient lore, his is a surprisingly modern memoir.
In an era of cruelty, when destroying the enemy is deemed a sacred directive, the slayer of Goliath finds a way to become larger than life. His search for a path to power leads him in ways that are, at times, scandalous. Notorious for his contradictions, David is seen by others as a gifted court entertainer, a successful captain in Saul’s army, a cunning fugitive, a traitor leading a gang of felons, and a ruthless raider of neighboring towns who leaves no witnesses behind.
How does he see himself, during this first phase of his life? With his hands stained with blood, can he find an inner balance between conflicting drives: his ambition for the crown, his determination to survive the conflict with Saul, and his longing for purity, for a touch of the divine, as expressed so lyrically in his psalms and music?
About the Author
Uvi Poznansky is a California-based author, poet and artist. Her writing and her art are tightly coupled. “I paint with my pen,” she says, “and write with my paintbrush.”
She earned her B. A. in Architecture and Town Planning from the Technion in Haifa, Israel. During her studies and in the years immediately following her graduation, she practiced with an innovative Architectural firm, taking part in the design of a large-scale project, Home for the Soldier.
At t
he age of 25 Uvi moved to Troy, N.Y. with her husband and two children. Before long, she received a Fellowship grant and a Teaching Assistantship from the Architecture department at Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute, where she guided teams in a variety of design projects; and where she earned her M.A. in Architecture. Then, taking a sharp turn in her education, she earned her M.S. degree in Computer Science from the University of Michigan.
During the years she spent in advancing her career—first as an architect, and later as a software engineer, software team leader, software manager and a software consultant (with an emphasis on user interface for medical instruments devices)—she wrote and painted constantly. In addition, she taught art appreciation classes.
Her versatile body of work can be seen on her website, which includes poems, short stories, bronze and ceramic sculptures, paper engineering projects, oil and watercolor paintings, charcoal, pen and pencil drawings, and mixed media. In addition, she posts her thoughts about the creative process on her blog, and engages readers and writers in conversation on her Goodreads Q&A group.
Uvi published a poetry book in collaboration with her father, Zeev Kachel. Later she published two children’s books, Jess and Wiggle and Now I Am Paper, which she illustrated, and for which she created animations. You can find these animations on her author page on Amazon, and her author page on Goodreads.
Apart From Love (published 2012) is an intimate peek into the life of a strange family: Natasha, the accomplished pianist, has been stricken with early-onset Alzheimer’s. Her ex-husband Lenny has never told their son Ben, who left home ten years ago, about her situation. At the same time he, Lenny, has been carrying on a love affair with a young redhead, who bears a striking physical resemblance to his wife—but unlike her, is uneducated, direct and unrefined. This is how things stand at this moment, the moment of Ben’s return to his childhood home, and to a contentious relationship with his father.
Home (published 2012), her deeply moving poetry book in tribute of her father, includes her poetry and prose, as well as translated poems from the pen of her father, the poet and author Zeev Kachel.
A Favorite Son (published 2012), her novella, is a new-age twist on an old yarn. It is inspired by the biblical story of Jacob and his mother Rebecca, plotting together against the elderly father Isaac, who is lying on his deathbed. This is no old fairy tale. Its power is here and now, in each one of us.
Twisted (published 2012) is a unique collection of tales. In it, the author brings together diverse tales, laden with shades of mystery. Here, you will come into a dark, strange world, a hyper-reality where nearly everything is firmly rooted in the familiar—except for some quirky detail that twists the yarn, and takes it for a spin in an unexpected direction.
Rise to Power is the story of David as you have never heard it before: from the king himself, telling the unofficial version, the one he never allowed his court scribes to recount. In his mind, history is written to praise the victorious—but at the last stretch of his illustrious life, he feels an irresistible urge to tell the truth.
With the exception of her new release, Rise to Power, these books are available in all three editions (audiobook, print and ebook.)
About the Cover
The dramatic background image of the cover is based on a watercolor painting by Uvi Poznansky:
“The early version of the cover was based on my acrylic painting of David playing before Saul. But I was unhappy with the result. The painting gave the aura of a legend, a 'rag-to-riches' fairytale, and it presented David as a child, all of which only begins to scratch the surface of the story.
So I went back to the drawing board, and selected one of my watercolors for a backdrop, over which I positioned the face of Bernini's David. I love the dynamic expression, the effort it imparts both physically and mentally. This, to me, is the essence of this wonderfully complex character. Set against the tension between cool and warm colors, intense and loose pigments, here is an ambitious man trying to figure out how to take charge of his life, and how to make a mark on history.”
Books by Uviart
Apart From Love
Paperback:
ISBN 978-0-9849932-0-8
Kindle:
ASIN: B006WPITP0
Audiobook:
US ASIN: B00D1YLITY
UK ASIN: B00CZDFI7A
Audible US ASIN: B00CME0G2E
Audible UK ASIN: B00CMEESL4
Rise to Power
Paperback:
ISBN: 978-0-9849932-4-6
Kindle:
ASIN: B00H6PMZ0U
Audiobook:
US ASIN: B00IP4I08W
UK ASIN: B00IOE266U
Audible US ASIN: B00IO3NAIY
Audible UK ASIN: B00IO3UYB0
A Favorite Son
Paperback:
ISBN: 978-0-9849932-5-3
Kindle:
ASIN: B00AUZ3LGU
Audiobook:
US ASIN: B00C43RHRU
UK ASIN: B00C48A4YI
Audible US ASIN: B00C3JVLZO
Audible UK ASIN: B00C3JSYCW
Twisted
Paperback:
ISBN: 978-0984993260
Kindle:
ASIN: B00D7Q3IY4
Audiobook:
US ASIN: B00EFCOMM6
UK ASIN: B00EFQJJZC
Audible US ASIN: B00EEG4DNQ
Audible UK ASIN: B00EEGCJY6
Home
Paperback:
ISBN: 978-09849932-3-9
Kindle:
ASIN: B00960TE3Y
Audiobook:
US ASIN: B00EQ0II3Q
UK ASIN: B00EPKKBO6
Audible US ASIN: B00EPHL15C
Audible UK ASIN: B00EPJJD0K
Jess and Wiggle
Paperback:
ISBN: 978-1494920968
Now I Am Paper
Paperback:
ISBN: 978-1494919429
Table of Contents
Title Page
Rise to Power©2013
Contents
Prologue
First Audition
Larger than Life
Choose Your Enemy
Crossing Swords
The Valley of Elah
A Last Request
Down the Path
The Making of History
The Mystery of a Pebble
His Head is Mine
Fame
How Much for a Princess
Michal
The Kish Clan
Even to the Wall
I Go, and Flee, and Escape
Why Should I Kill You?
Son of a Perverse and Rebellious Woman
The King of the Land
In the Wilderness
The Sanctity of the Crown
Abigail
A Question of Betrayal
The King is Dead
The Grand Lament
A Tribal Coronation
A Peek at Bathsheba
Epilogue
About this Book
About the Author
About the Cover
Books by Uviart
Apart From Love
Rise to Power
A Favorite Son
Twisted
Home
Jess and Wiggle
Now I Am Paper
Rise to Power (The David Chronicles) (Volume 1) Page 22