I pushed away from him. “You can’t touch me there.”
“Just watch me. Before the night is out, I’ll be touching a lot more of you.” He picked up a handful of twigs and seeds and threw it at me.
“You!” I brushed my robe. “What do you think you’re doing?” I threw pebbles back at him.
He scrambled up the giant tree and squawked. “Bet you can’t catch me.”
Long arms and legs alternated on a network of branches. Soon he was a mere shadow hidden amongst the leaves.
I punched my hands to my hips and stomped my foot.
“You’re scared, aren’t you?” He hooted from the treetop. “Have you never climbed a tree?”
Truthfully, yes. Admit it to him? Never.
I loosened my robe and tightened my sandals. “You better beware. When I catch you, I’m going to tickle you until you fall off your perch. You arrogant little, little…” I caught myself. There was nothing little about Ittai, nothing.
My knees and elbows scraping on the rough trunk, I placed hand over hand and foot over foot. Somewhat breathless, I pulled myself to his branch. It creaked and swayed under our combined weight.
“Not bad for a princess,” he said.
I raised my fist to wipe the smirk off his face when he caught my wrist and pulled me into a tight embrace.
“You are an annoying boy. That’s what you are. You’re so annoying you drive me crazy. I’ll have your—”
His mouth covered mine with a deep, hot kiss. I staggered at the pounding of my heart and the crushing wave of heat and desire that pooled between my legs.
Hardly able to think, I disengaged from him. The heady, resinous scent dizzied my senses. “Why did you bring me here?”
His eyes grew serious in the dusk of the setting sun. “This is the wishing tree.”
He pointed to the west as a reddish glow tinted the clouds, sable and lavender. “We make a wish as the sun sets, and kiss a leaf, then tear the leaf in half. I keep one half, and you keep the other half here, in your robe, next to your heart. And someday our wishes will come true.”
“Do we have to wish the same thing?”
He shook his head. “That’s the beauty of this tree. We can wish our own desires, and it’ll still fulfill both of our wishes.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” I said. “What if I wished to never see you again and you wished to always be by my side?”
He chuckled. “Then I’d say you’d better be careful because you’ll be struck blind, and I’ll be your guide.”
“Then I’d better think of every loophole, shouldn’t I?”
He gestured at the sun, whose last rays shafted from the ridge and kindled the leaves and branches afire. “You’d better think fast.”
“Ready?” He plucked a leaf.
“Yes.”
He put his arm around me, and we looked at the sun as it dipped below the horizon. Then he pressed the leaf to my mouth, and we kissed it at the same time. Slowly and deliberately, he tore the leave down the vein and handed me my half, while tucking his into his inner robe.
“Do we tell our wishes?” I plucked a seedpod out of his glossy, black hair.
“Either way. Do you want to tell me?” His voice mesmerized me with a deep rumble.
I shook my head. “I wouldn’t want you to know because you might avoid making it come true.”
“Then I won’t tell you either.” He stuck his tongue out and blew a disgusting sound.
We sat in silence as the night air rose. Crickets chirped, and fireflies flitted below us. The diffuse, sweetish-citrony fragrance of the flowers cleared my irritations and soothed me with a sense of peace and contentment. Undisturbed by worries, Ittai and I clung to each other, breathing deeply of the dreams tucked away in the comforting branches of the wishing tree.
Chapter 16
Psalm 40:17 But I am poor and needy; yet the Lord thinketh upon me: thou art my help and my deliverer; make no tarrying, O my God.
>>><<<
A twig cracked and the sound of a drawn sword awakened me. I pushed Ittai, and he felt for his weapons. A low breeze howled through the trees, but the rhythmic rustle of dried leaves made my hair stand on end.
“They must be here somewhere.” A voice grumbled from the woods.
“Quick, hide in the vineyard,” Ittai whispered. “I’ll jump up and surprise them.”
I scuttled to the back of the house and crept behind a pillar. Shadowy figures circled at the fringes of the orchard. A man cleared his throat and spat.
“Aye, the fire pit’s still warm.” Another voice said.
The shadows of several men advanced toward the broken wall where Ittai hid. I edged through the weeds and crouched under a fig tree. A horse’s nicker surprised me. I called to it with smooching noises.
The men stepped into the courtyard. Ittai’s sword flashed. A man screamed. The air weighed heavily with huffs and groans and the clang of clashing metal.
Footsteps thudded behind me. I gulped and crawled on my hands and knees toward a juniper bush. Someone lifted me by the waist and swung me over his shoulder.
“Where are you taking me? Let me go.” I pounded on his back and kicked at his stomach.
He slammed me against a tree trunk. The air in my lungs gushed from the impact. I bore my weight to the ground and pushed against his chest, but he clamped my head under his armpit and dragged me over the dry leaves.
Another man led a horse toward us. “Get her on the horse.”
My captor unclamped my mouth to grab the horse. I let out a long scream.
“Look, they’re taking her away.” One of the men fighting Ittai yelled.
Several pairs of feet pounded toward us. My captors forced me to the ground and turned to fight the incoming men. Grunts and curses exploded from the mass of fists and swords.
I ran for the horse and grabbed its reins, halfway looping my legs over his back before the man who captured me yanked me off. He tied my hands, gagged me, and threw me face down across the horse.
Without waiting for his partner, he kicked the horse and tore off in a gallop into the dark woods. Pain pounded through my belly and chest as I flopped on the horse’s back, pinned by his hand. The screams of the men left fighting faded into the distance, along with any hope of knowing Ittai’s fate.
A few miles later, my captor slowed the horse, sat me upright and held me with a strong grip. I swallowed bile and dropped my head. Had Ittai been hurt, or God forbid, killed? My breathing convulsed into rapid sobs that choked against my throat. Oh, merciful God, don’t let Ittai be injured or killed. My friend, Ittai. My dear friend.
We weaved through the shadowy forest threaded by streaks of moonlight. My captor rode with one hand around my waist, but did not harass me. I slumped against the horse, unable to speak because of the gag. Who was he and where would he take me?
* * *
I woke cramped and sore, my wrists still bound, but the gag removed. A man wearing a blue and white fringed shawl sat in front of a fire a few feet from me. His angular features flickered, and he appeared to be praying.
“You’re an Israelite?” My voice croaked in Hebrew.
Before he could answer, a familiar voice cut in. “Michal, you look horrible.”
My brother Jonathan sauntered over and lifted me from the ground.
I jerked my head. “What’s going on here? Why am I tied up? And why did you attack Ittai?”
“We didn’t attack anyone,” my captor said. “They attacked us. When we approached the house, we saw a group of men trying to capture your sister.”
Jonathan slashed my bonds and waved his hand. “One of us has to go back for Reuben.”
“What about Ittai? Let me go back,” I said. “He might have been hurt.” I snatched Jonathan’s sleeve, but he pulled away from me.
“He’s not our concern,” Jonathan said. “Go to the river and wash.”
I knelt at his feet. “I plead with you, dear brother.”
“You
go first,” Jonathan said to the man who captured me. “I’ll take care of my sister.”
“I shouldn’t have left him,” the man said and cast a disdainful look at me. “But you said to fetch your sister, no matter what.”
“You did the right thing,” Jonathan said.
“Don’t kill Ittai, whatever you do.” I yelled after him. “He helped me. He was injured because of me. Please.”
My captor glared at me, straightened his sword in his sheath, and strode to his horse.
I ran after Jonathan’s long strides. “Let me go and help Ittai. He said he’s your friend. He saved my life and…”
Jonathan turned on his heels. “And what, my sister? What trouble have you gotten into now?”
“I care a great deal about him. I can’t bear to think of him lying face down in a pool of blood. Please, dear brother, if you love me, even a little.” I clasped my hands in front of his face. “He’s David’s friend too.”
Jonathan frowned and clamped his hands on my shoulders. “Go to the river and wash. I’ll find you some clean clothes.”
I trudged to the riverbank and sat on a smooth slab of slate. Splashing cool water over my face and head, I berated my brother. Why did he send his men? Why hadn’t he come himself and found us? And what had happened to Ittai?
Jonathan handed me clean clothes and a veil. He pushed me behind a screen of bushes. “Put on the veil and do not say anything to anyone.”
I emerged from the screen, and he lifted me on his horse and mounted behind me. “Don’t do anything to attract attention. You’re in a lot of danger, for I have to hide you from both the Philistines and Father’s men.”
“Why are you so angry? Ittai and I didn’t do anything. He tried to find you, but he was injured.”
“I’m not angry at Ittai. It’s you. Your little jaunt to Philistia was reckless. You’re a disobedient wife, and you put both David and Phalti in great danger.” He paused and said, “And Ittai too. If he’s injured or killed, it’s because of you.”
His words burned a hole in my heart. The three men I cared for most had been harmed because of me.
“What happened to Phalti?” I said. “I saw the note he delivered.”
“Whipped thirty-nine times and left to die.”
A whirlwind of pain bowled me over. “Phalti? Is he?”
“He’s alive. I stopped the beating and talked Father out of executing him. We both knew how difficult you could be. He’s recovered, although he lost all his fields and livestock because he didn’t keep his part of the bargain.”
“What bargain?”
Jonathan kicked his horse. “To keep you safe.”
“It wasn’t his fault. He’s the most kind and gentle man I know. He didn’t deserve this.”
Jonathan made no sound, nor did he try to comfort me.
“Jonathan?” I drew my veil aside and peeked at him. “I’m sorry.”
He made one of those indeterminate grunts between assent and forgiveness, then steered the horse down a narrow trail overgrown with bushes. Leaving the sandy soil near the river, we climbed the stark ridges toward Israel, the horse’s hooves stirring dust as they clopped over the rock-strewn path.
The valley of Sorek spread below, a lush grove with a meandering stream trickling in a crooked line toward the Great Sea. Behind me, the gaiety of balmy bazaars with their sing-song voices and dreamy songs faded. Ahead of me lay the stern hand of the Law, dry prophets, and retribution for my sins. I swallowed a dusty lump and asked God to forgive me and watch over Ittai and Tora. When I could no longer see the enchanted valley, I leaned against Jonathan’s chest and sobbed.
* * *
Once we crossed a series of ridges, we followed a road patrolled by Father’s men. Jonathan adjusted my veil and placed me sideways. “Dry your tears and don’t say a word, for you are to act as my bride.”
We passed other travelers, several contingents of Philistines marching in broad daylight on our road, as well as soldiers from our side. Our appearance as an Israelite warrior and his bride brought no inquiries, and we encountered no mishaps.
Around noontime, we stopped at the side of a large cistern to refill our water skins. A few women sat under a tree, and a knot of children played nearby. After watering the horse, we rested under the shade of a large oak tree where we ate our midday meal.
Jonathan pulled off my veil and shook out the dust. He rubbed my head and kissed my cheek. “No matter what, you’re still my baby sister. You may talk now. There are only a few old women and shepherds hanging over near the cistern.”
He handed me food from his satchel and a wineskin.
“Why didn’t you give David my message?” I asked.
He chewed on a piece of bread and did not answer. I tugged his sleeve. “Jonathan, why would you not help? David said he sent messages through you, and you never told me.”
“That hothead wanted to raid the palace and get himself killed. I lied to him so he’d stay away. I’m sorry, but I told him you were happily married to Phalti to make him give up on you.”
His words slammed my heart like a thunderclap, and I doubled over as if punched in the stomach. “But, Jonathan, he took two more wives.”
His lips turned down in a thin line. “There’s nothing we can do about that now. The important thing is to keep you safe, and that means far away from David.”
“Why?”
He heaved a deep sigh. “Anyone who captures you captures David. And anyone who has David’s head has you for a bride. Therefore the two of you cannot be together. Why do you think Achish refused to turn David over to Father?”
“Because he didn’t have the bride?”
“Exactly. And if he had you, who do you think would try to rescue you?”
“David?”
“Yes. Now you see why David wanted Ittai to take you back to Israel and hide you.”
The realization left me with a warm feeling. So David did care about me. And Ittai? Oh, Ittai. I tugged his robe. “Will you help Ittai?”
“Yes, I will go back for him as soon as I see you safely to Merab’s house. Father will not look for you there because he thinks you’re still in Philistia. And Merab lives too far inland for the Philistines to travel there.”
“And why do the Philistines march into our territory without opposition?”
Jonathan’s lip curled into a grimace. “Iron. Iron cuts through bronze like a hot knife through fat. When we fight them, we are truly like a few bees harassing a bear. We get in a few stings, maybe drive them out of a village or two, but they come back. The other people in the land, the Gibeonites, the Hivites, and the Canaanites have peace with the Philistines, allowing them garrisons, strongholds and forges.”
“Ittai works with iron,” I said. “I saw him hammer a blade. It was cold and sharp. He’s my friend.”
Jonathan eyed me a bit, adjusted the bags on the horse and handed me the veil. “You’re a married woman.”
* * *
In the evening, we stopped at an inn. Groggy from my nap, I stretched and stepped into the room and flung off the heavy veil.
Jonathan unpacked a basket of lamb, lentils, and bread he had bought from the innkeeper. I studied his profile while he ate. The small lines etching the corners of his eyes gave him a harried look. He was my eldest brother, and the years had not been kind to him.
I broke a crust off the bread. “Why is Father so mad he’d exchange me for David’s head?”
He stopped chewing and tapped the table. “You shouldn’t say such things. No matter how you feel, Father is the king and you must reverence him.”
“But, Jonathan, kings do not always do what’s right, unless they follow God’s will.”
“Yes, I suppose that’s the problem with kings. The LORD God warned us about kings when the tribes demanded one. Kings have incredible pressure to protect their people and fight their wars, and yet at the same time, boundless power. Such power can blind a man to what is decent and good. Power that can snuff
out a life, wed a maid against her desire, crush a son or daughter, and destroy a family and a nation.”
“David would not do this if he were king,” I said, somewhat smugly.
He smashed a fist to the table. “David will never become king. He is a traitor and pledged to serve the Philistines.”
“No, you can’t say that about him. He’s only hiding from Father.”
“I sent your note to him to try to get him to return to Israel. Instead, he sends you back with a Philistine spy.”
I rubbed my eyes. “Ittai never gave him the note. He used the note to find me, so it was not David’s fault.”
Jonathan grabbed his head with both hands. “You don’t know how it hurts me. I loved him as a brother. We were the best of friends. And now he is my enemy.”
I patted his shoulder. “David still loves you. I’m sure he would never betray you.”
“I wish that were true. Fear and doubt can change men’s hearts. Since he serves Achish, he was obligated to hand you over to him.”
My breath caught. “He wouldn’t do that.”
“And he didn’t. I assured him Phalti took a vow to never touch you, and he consented to your return. But he wouldn’t return himself.”
“Of course not! Father would kill him. Besides, David doesn’t serve the enemy. He’s a refugee, biding his time.”
He pushed the table. “You are blissfully unaware of David’s double-dealing. Perhaps I should tell you why it took so long for me to find you. We had to fend off David’s men in the south of Judah to protect the Kenites and the Jerahmeelites.”
“You mean he attacked our own people?”
“Not exactly. He’s been raiding foreign villages in the south, killing all inhabitants, robbing them, and buying off the elders of Judah. At the same time, he told King Achish that he leveled Israelite villages, leading the Philistine king to believe David would go to war on his behalf.”
“Then David’s only tricking Achish.” I lifted my chin and sniffed. “I believe in David.”
“I don’t know what to believe. It would have been better for David to die in honor as God’s anointed than to be a dog lapping at the feet of the Philistine king.” A tear slipped down the corner of his eye, and he swiped it away with the back of his fist.
Michal's Window Page 16