A Captain in Israel

by Alex Chappell

  Snickers filled the room, and Achish turned his smoldering gray eyes toward the young lord who had spoken. Avad-baal’s insinuation was obvious to all. He referred to the infamous retreat at Michmash which had ended so disgracefully for Philistia. For Achish in particular. But now was not the time to give in to anger. Achish controlled his wrath and smoothly replied, "You consider yourself a brave man, Avad-baal. In a moment of confusion and panic would you back down from an enemy?"

  "I’d rather die than suffer the humiliation you and your pitiful army brought upon us at Michmash." Avad-baal sneered at Achish, and his chest puffed with pride. "I wasn’t born at the time, but I’ve heard the stories. Do you honestly expect the combined armies of Philistine to follow your weak leadership a second time?"

  A murmur spread like a wave across the room. Some of those murmurs were sounds of agreement; but at least a few, to Achish’s relief, were voices of disapproval. It was time to teach Avad-baal who his betters were. It was time to humiliate him in front of his peers.

  "Brave words from a whelp who has never had the chance on a real battlefield to prove if his sword is as sharp as his tongue," Achish said. "I propose a small test of your bravery, young Lord of Ekron. Do you see the tall door at the other end of this chamber?"

  Avad-baal narrowed his eyes in confusion, but his arrogant nature quickly asserted itself.

  "I see it," he said. "Is it so frightening a thing to open a door that you must always ask your guests to do it for you?"

  More laughter filled the room, but Achish merely smiled.

  "Open it," he calmly replied. "Open it and see for yourself. Behind that door is the key to Philistine supremacy."

  Avad-baal looked suspicious for a moment and a hint of worry glimmered in his eyes, but then he pushed his way past his brethren and seized the door’s mighty bronze handle.

  "What are you hiding back here, Achish? The quickest escape route from the Hebrews?"

  This time the laughter was raucous, and Avad-baal grinned and bowed to the others. Achish waited. He waited for his arrogant adversary to yank the door open, gasp, and stagger backward.

  Avad-baal wasn’t the only man in the room to turn ashen with fear. All the others melted back with him as Achish’s hulking champion stepped, in all his imposing might, into the room.

  "My fellow lords," Achish said, his voice quiet and self-assured, "I introduce to you Goliath, son of Raphah, champion of Gath’s armies."

  Achish’s champion was more mountain than man. At nine cubits and a span, he was taller by three cubits than the next largest man in the room. There was something bear-like about his broad bearded face and bushy, beetling brows. Avad-baal took a few more steps backward as Goliath’s fierce eyes fell upon him.

  "Are there any here who would prove themselves against my champion?" Achish asked. "Is there any man at all?"

  Silence. No one dared to breath. But numerous eyes were beginning to turn toward Avad-baal, and the corner of Achish’s mouth twitched as he struggled to hold back a ferocious grin.

  "It takes more than words and brash actions to lead an army," Achish said. He stared directly at the now angrily fidgeting Avad-baal. "You have to know your enemy before you rush out to meet him. You have to know what puts fear into his heart."

  He paused, waited to make sure all ears were listening, and said, "I am a man who knows his enemies, lords of Philistia. I perceive both their strengths and their weaknesses. The Hebrews will no longer make a mockery of our armies. My champion, Goliath, will make sure of it."

  Heads were nodding. Men were grinning. All but Avad-baal and his entourage. Philistia would once more turn to Achish for leadership. The Gath’s preeminence was about to be reestablished.

  —

  "I need to speak with you about something important."

  Tobiah looked up, startled. Since their departure from Hebron earlier in the morning, his father had hardly spoken to him. It had been a long, silent walk.

  Tobiah cast his father a wary look; but, strangely enough, Caleb didn’t seem either angry or disappointed. He just looked concerned.

  "You heard some things yesterday you weren’t supposed to hear. I understand why you listened. If I’d been you, I would have tried to overhear the conversation, too. But the knowledge you now possess brings with it a certain amount of responsibility."

  "I know," Tobiah answered. "I have to keep it to myself. I won’t talk to anyone about it. Not even David. But…but do you think he knows what his anointing meant?"

  Caleb shrugged and shook his head.

  "That I can’t tell you. Perhaps not, but it isn’t the thing I need to discuss with you right now."

  "It’s not?"

  "No. There’s something else. Something I promised your mother I’d discuss with you when the time was right. I’ve put it off over and over again, but I can’t avoid it any longer."

  Tobiah watched his father carefully, apprehensive about what might come next. Caleb stared thoughtfully at his feet as they walked across a crackling pine needle carpet. When he finally decided to speak, his voice was distant and quiet.

  "You’ve heard my stories about fighting the Philistines," he said, "but you haven’t been told the whole story. I’ve always tried to emphasize the miracle God worked for Israel that day. I wanted you and your brothers to realize it was God’s power and not man’s strength that provided us with the victory. But there’s another side of warfare – even when the Lord is on your side – I fear I’ve failed to make as clear to you as I should. Not every warrior of Israel lived to tell the battle’s tale, Tobiah. Not every man came back to his family when it was over…"

  He paused – took a deep breath as if reliving something awful – and continued with his narrative.

  "I watched men fall in battle all around me. Some of my friends from Bethlehem were cut down by Philistine swords that day. I don’t know why God allowed our enemies to take the lives of the good, righteous men who fought next to me. I don’t know why He took them and allowed me to live. All I know is young men tend to feel invincible – tend to trust in their own wisdom and strength – when their lives are really held in God’s hands. During that battle, I quickly learned how mortal and helpless I am. I realized it when I found myself looking down a desperate Philistine soldier’s cold iron blade."

  "I know what you’re trying to say," Tobiah said as his father paused again. "I know you and mother worry about me and think I’m going to run off and get myself killed. But you don’t have to worry. You can tell Mother I don’t intend to join Saul’s army. I’ve decided against throwing my life away in his service."

  "Good," Caleb replied, visibly relaxing. "Your mother will be relieved to hear it."

  Caleb thumped Tobiah warmly on the back, and Tobiah allowed an uncomfortable smile to cross his lips. Inside, however, he was feeling guilty twinges. He was telling a partial truth. He had decided against joining Saul’s military forces. He decided it shortly after finding out what David’s anointing really meant. But he only made the choice because he now intended to fight for David. He would stay with the family flocks and lead a shepherd’s quiet existence as long as he had to, but if David ever needed an extra sword, Tobiah would be there.

  Chapter Six

  ו

  Now the Philistines gathered together their

  armies to battle, and were gathered

  together at Shochoh, which belongeth to Judah,

  and pitched between Shochoh and Azekah,

  in Ephes-dammim.

  1 Samuel 17:1

  The sharp crack of wood striking against wood echoed through the hills, and Tobiah grinned as he blocked yet another well-aimed blow from Joel’s staff.

  "Not bad, little brother," Joel grunted. He countered a lightning fast return stroke from the opposite end of Tobiah’s staff and backed quickly away. "You’ve improved since the last time we sparred with each other. But would you be so confident against a fully armored Philistine with a sword?"

  "I’ll ne
ver see a Philistine with a sword," Tobiah complained. "There’s no way Mother will ever let me go anywhere near a battle. I’m penned up like a sheep behind a high rock wall!"

  Joel laughed, but Tobiah didn’t find it funny. He furrowed his brows and attacked with renewed vigor.

  Rumors had made way to Bethlehem – rumors about a Philistine invasion of the Shephelah and of the likelihood a Philistine army would soon push its way through the Nahal ha-Elah – the Valley of Elah. Tobiah didn’t know how much of the talk, if any of it, was true; but he did know how much it frustrated him he couldn’t offer his own services for his people’s protection.

  "Careful!" Joel said, batting aside another blow from Tobiah’s staff. "We’re not trying to kill each other. This is just a friendly practice."

  "Marriage has made you soft," Tobiah taunted. "You used to be able to hold your own against me."

  "I still can."

  Before Tobiah realized what was happening, Joel’s staff swept low, caught Tobiah behind the ankle, and sent him sprawling, backwards, into the grass.

  "How do you do that!" Tobiah demanded, gritting his teeth. "I can never see it coming until it’s too late to stop you!"

  "Practice makes perfect," Joel replied with a laugh, "and you definitely need more of it."

  Again Tobiah scowled, but Joel ignored the sour expression and plopped tiredly into the grass. They rested for several minutes, breathing heavily, until Tobiah asked: "Do you think it’s true? Do you think a Philistine army really is getting ready to move against us?"

  Joel’s lighthearted smile faded. His voice was grave when he spoke.

  "I don’t know," he said. "But we should all hope things aren’t as bad as they sound. People die in wars. Even good people die when swords are drawn."

  "But what if Saul does go to war? What then? Will you leave Bethlehem and fight with Saul’s armies?"

  "I’ve thought a great deal about it," Joel admitted. "Over the past few days, Rachel and I have stayed up late talking about it. I don’t want to leave her and the children. War is a serious and risky business, and I may not return alive; but I won’t refuse if I’m asked to give my service."

  "I’d fight the Philistines in a heartbeat!" Tobiah exclaimed. "At least if Father and Mother would let me."

  Joel smiled and shook his head. "That’s because you’re still a boy. You don’t understand what war is all about."

  "And you do?" Tobiah furrowed his brow again.

  "Someday when you’re married and have your own children," Joel replied, ignoring the anger on Tobiah’s face, "you’ll see what life is really about. But right now you couldn’t join Saul’s army even if Father said you could. Don’t you ever read the books of Moses? The law sets a soldier’s minimum age at twenty years. You’re not old enough, and it’s a good thing, too. Otherwise, you’d probably run off and get yourself killed."

  Tobiah felt his face flush. Why did everyone treat him like a hot-headed, careless young fool? He recognized war’s dangers. He knew it was a harsh and ugly thing. He didn’t want to kill and didn’t want to be killed, but he did want to protect his people.

  "As long as we have enemies," Tobiah said, "there’s going to be war. Somebody has to be willing to fight off the enemies who want to destroy us. And there’s always someone out there who wants to do just that."

  "You’re right," Joel agreed. "And I think every man in our family would take up arms to defend his wife, his children, the Law, and the people. But you want to make warfare your way of life. What kind of craziness is that?"

  "You act like a soldier spends his every waking moment killing people. We don’t have an army of Philistines attacking us every day."

  "No. But we do have enemies on every border waiting for the chance. And some of our soldiers do die every day."

  "This is why we need a standing army," Tobiah replied. "We need large numbers of soldiers to discourage the Philistines and our other enemies from crossing into our lands. If we wait to be attacked and wait even longer while Israel’s men decide whether or not they’re willing to do something about it, our next king will be a Philistine. Do you want that? Do you want to be a Philistine slave?"

  Joel shook his head, but it wasn’t in response to Tobiah’s angry question. It was as if he hadn’t heard a word of what Tobiah just said.

  "Do you know what you need?" Joel asked. "You need a wife and a child or two. It might be the only thing to make you realize how good a shepherd’s safe life is."

  Tobiah glared and Joel laughed.

  "You’re old enough to become betrothed," Joel said. "You know that, don’t you?"

  "Yes, I know."

  "In fact, I was younger than you when I was betrothed to Rachel. Isn’t there some girl in Bethlehem who’s caught your eye?"

  "No. Not really." The truth was the last thing Tobiah wanted was to be betrothed to a local girl. If that happened, he might as well bid farewell to any hope of getting out of this backward, isolated hamlet. His greatest fear was his parents would one day figure this out and use it to snare him.

  "Aren’t Bethlehem’s girls pretty enough?" Joel asked. "Or is the real problem that none of them are interested in you? You really should take advantage of the fact that David’s no longer here to give you competition. With him out of the way, you might actually stand a chance."

  He was teasing – Tobiah knew this – but Joel’s comment still annoyed him.

  "I’m not marrying any girl from Bethlehem," he snapped, "so I don’t care if they’re interested in me or not. When I finally do find a girl I’d want as my wife, I’ll be sure to let all of you know."

  Joel seemed a little taken aback by Tobiah’s angry reaction to his words, but Tobiah didn’t care. They sat in silence until the crunch of gravel beneath running feet brought both of them to a standing position.

  "Joel!"

  It was Daniel, Tobiah’s oldest brother. His chest was heaving, his forehead was moist with perspiration, and his face was tense and pale. It took him several moments to catch his breath and several more to manage a few words between gasps.

  "You need to come with me to town, Joel! Something…important…is going on there!"

  "What is it?" Joel arched one eyebrow and his forehead creased with worry lines, but Daniel glanced with veiled eyes at Tobiah and slowly shook his head.

  "You’ll find out soon enough. Come with me. I’ll fill you in on the details on the way."

  "And what about me?" Tobiah demanded. "Don’t I get to come, too?"

  "Someone has to stay here and watch the sheep." There was no sympathy in Daniel’s eyes. "This matter doesn’t concern you anyway."

  "Does this have something to do with the Philistines?" Tobiah persisted. "Is the king calling for reinforcements?"

  Daniel didn’t answer. He just motioned to Joel, and the two of them jogged away.

  "Stay with the sheep!" Daniel commanded, casting a final stern glance over his shoulder. "Someone will show up later to help you."

  Tobiah’s brothers disappeared around a hill’s edge.

  Tobiah stared after them for several long seconds and kicked a stone through the grass, causing several sheep to look up in alarm.

  It was happening! His brothers were on their way to fight the Philistines, and he was stuck here with the sheep! He was tempted to neglect the flocks and go back to Bethlehem just to spite Daniel, but it would only give the family added reason to call him a rash, irresponsible child.

  No. He wouldn’t leave the sheep. But other battles would come. And next time he would help write Israel’s history.

  He would show them. He would show them all! Someday his chance would come.

  —

  It was a beautiful evening. The stars were shining brightly, the cicadas were humming, and the moon was a thin silver crescent in the sky. At any other time, the world would have seemed a safe and peaceful place. But not tonight.

  Saul and most of his royal guard had departed for the Shephelah – only a handful of men were
left behind to guard the citadel and its occupants. Fear, like a dark shadow, hung heavily over Gibeah. Mara stared uneasily at the fortress walls as she crossed the darkened courtyard. So often she had looked at these walls, wondering whether they were a prison or a protection. Now she worried how long they would stand if the Philistines pushed their way past Saul’s defenses.

  "Mara!"

  The voice called out softly from behind her, but it still made her jump. Mara turned to see her sister, Ayalah, approaching from the direction of Merab’s quarters.

  "It’s spooky, isn’t it," Ayalah said, hurrying to catch up. "How quiet it is, I mean. It’s like no one in Gibeah dares to breathe."

  "Yes," Mara agreed. "There’s an uncomfortable feeling wherever you go."

  "I normally like the quiet," Ayalah said. "It’s not often I get to enjoy it. But I don’t like this kind of quiet. This is the kind that comes when something bad is about to happen. Just before…before someone you love…"

  Mara reached out to take her sister’s hand.

  "It will be all right," she whispered. "Josiah is a good soldier. He’ll come back alive."

  Ayalah nodded, but she didn’t look convinced.

  "Are you on your way to the servants’ quarters?" she asked. "Has Michal gone to bed?"

  "Yes. Michal finally got tired of moping around her room, feeling depressed about David being sent home to Bethlehem. She told me I could leave for the night. And how is Merab doing? Is she languishing over David, too?"

  "No. I don’t think it matters to her one way or the other whether David is here. She just doesn’t want Michal to win his attention."

  "So Michal was right," Mara said. One corner of her mouth twisted up in a wry smile. "Merab is evil."

  Ayalah laughed. For a moment at least her mind was taken off Josiah. But the melancholy quickly returned. Mara wondered how she would feel if a young man she secretly loved had to go away to fight a war.

  "You’re looking tired," Ayalah said. "I guess you’re on your way to bed, too."

  Mara was about to nod, but she examined Ayalah’s face and decided against it.