"He’s growing up, Athaliah. We can’t stop that no matter how much we’d like to. He wants us to trust him and treat him like an adult. If we don’t give him the opportunity to prove his maturity, he’s going to rebel. In his mind, I don’t think this is as much about fighting a war as it is about being trusted to make his own choices."
"Fine," Athaliah muttered. "Let him go! I just hope you don’t live to regret your decision."
Caleb didn’t answer. He’d already been thinking the same thing himself.
—
Israel’s war camp was nothing like Tobiah imagined it would be. He wasn’t really sure what he’d expected, but this definitely wasn’t it.
The air was heavy with the mixed stench of blood, sweat, and smoke. Groans and cries permeated the air. As he picked his way across the camp, close on David’s heels, he couldn’t help but wonder how the elated feeling he’d experienced at being allowed to come here could change so quickly to an equally strong desire to retreat to Bethlehem.
They’d made good time from Bethlehem to Shochoh. He and David had departed early and made it to the magal – a barricade of overturned wagons at the base of Israel’s hill – just as the host of Israel was setting out to fight. This was exactly what Tobiah had been hoping to see.
As warrior’s shouts rang in his ears, he’d felt an exhilarating rush of emotion that made his blood race through his veins; but his enthusiasm was quickly dampened when he and David went back into the camp to leave their bundles of bread and parched corn with the keeper of the carriage, the officer in charge of supplies.
Death and Misery reigned supreme in this place. He saw it on every side as he and David moved nervously through the camp. Men who were too injured to fight sat outside their tents, heads hanging listlessly, eyes vacant. All of them wore filthy blood-soaked bandages — some to cover the stumps of missing limbs. Tobiah saw one soldier whose festering black and purple wound ran all the way from his scalp, across the socket of a missing eye, to the end of his chin.
The injuries were gruesome. Tobiah wondered whether many of the more seriously injured — those who lie weak and moaning on the earth — would survive long enough to heal.
This isn’t how it’s supposed to be! he thought. This is Israel’s army! We serve the one true God! We’re not supposed to suffer and die like this!
But his eyes told him a different story. The good were falling in battle, dying like the wicked. In this war neither side was spared.
"Do you think they’re all right?" Tobiah whispered to David, his voice cracking a little, as he scanned the myriad faces around them.
"Who? These men?"
"No." It was obvious the wounded men around them weren’t all right. "No, I was meaning your brothers and mine. Do you think they’re up here somewhere with the wounded or down at the battle?"
"I haven’t seen any trace of them here," David replied. "All we can do is wait for the battle to end and watch for them when the soldiers return."
The battle didn’t end until late afternoon. Tobiah couldn’t remember any wait that had seemed longer; but, finally, as the sun dropped low in the sky, a wave of exhausted, mournful-looking men dragged their feet toward the barricade.
The king and his sons, with the king’s personal guard, were among the first to return. Tobiah saw they were engaged in deep conversation. By the looks on their faces, it didn’t seem as if the battle had gone well. He wasn’t as concerned, however, about seeing the king as he was about finding his own brothers. He continued to turn his eyes to the left and to the right until, finally, his search was rewarded.
Joel, Seth, and David’s brothers arrived with a small group of other soldiers from Bethlehem. David hailed them as they drew near, and they stopped to stare – first with confusion then with surprise.
Tobiah’s brothers looked haggard. There was an emotional emptiness in their bloodshot eyes. Their faces were unwashed, their hair and beards were sweaty and tangled, and Joel wore a blood-stained bandage around his chest and over one shoulder. Despite their disturbing appearance, Tobiah felt so relieved to see them alive he smiled as he moved forward to greet them.
"Tobiah?" Joel looked at his younger brother, blinking, then shook his head. "What are you doing here?"
"Father and Mother sent me with David. I guess they figured David was mature enough to keep me out of trouble. It’s good to see you’re both alive. When I arrive back at Bethlehem, Rachel and Naomi will be happy to hear it."
"And you’ll be going home very soon," Seth said. He wore a sour expression. He glanced momentarily at David , who was laughing with his brothers, before fastening his angry eyes on Tobiah again.
"This is no place for a beardless boy. I’m surprised Mother and Father let you come. Are you sure you didn’t sneak off without their permission?"
Tobiah searched for an appropriately cheeky response, but Joel interrupted before he could speak.
"How are things in Bethlehem?" Joel asked, placing a broad arm around Tobiah’s shoulders and guiding him away from Seth. "Has anything new or exciting happened since we left?"
"Not really. It’s just the same old boring place it’s always been. But I’ll bet you have a million interesting tales to tell."
"There’s nothing you need to hear about this nightmarish place," Seth growled. "In fact, you should be grateful things in Bethlehem are always so uneventful. You should go home as soon as possible and give thanks to God you were too young to leave your secure, ordinary life to fight in this valley of death. If it’s tales of glory and adventure you’ve come looking for, you’ve come to the wrong place. There’s nothing here but death, unhappiness, and pain."
Tobiah felt his temperature rise, but again Joel quickly intervened.
"You’ll have to forgive Seth," he joked. "He’s had a bad day. I’ve already saved him from Philistine blades six times. His pride hasn’t had time to recover from it."
"You? Save me? I never needed your… You never… "
Seth blustered and fumed while Joel and Tobiah laughed at his discomfiture. Eventually Joel turned back to Tobiah and said, "So how did you convince Mother to let you come? Even with David as your companion I’m sure it must have taken some amazing arguments to get her to relent."
"Actually, I didn’t have to do or say anything," Tobiah replied. "Father pulled me aside, told me Jesse was sending David to bring parched corn and bread to his brothers, and asked me if I wanted to do the same for you. Believe me, I’m as surprised by this as you are."
Seth skeptically lowered an eyebrow and shook his head. He didn’t believe Tobiah’s story. This time, however, Tobiah ignored him.
"Well, whatever their reasons for sending you, you’re here," Joel said. "Come on. Let’s go up to camp where we can sit and talk for awhile. I’m sure Mother won’t mind if you leave David’s watchful eye for just a moment. As long as you’re with Seth and me, there’s little chance you’ll wander down and get yourself killed by a Philistine."
At the top of the hill, the three brothers found an unoccupied patch of shade beneath a small fig tree’s leafy limbs, and Joel filled Tobiah in on the grim details of Israel’s costly military campaign. It wasn’t long, however, before Seth interrupted, turning the conversation to more mundane matters.
"Ephraim had a loose tooth when I left. Has it come out yet?"
"And how about little Deborah?" Joel asked, immediately warming up to this. "Is my little girl learning to walk without me there to see it?"
"And how is Naomi managing with that goat? She’s been milking it to feed the children, but it can be an uncooperative beast."
Both of them showered Tobiah with a barrage of questions until he thought his head would spin off his shoulders. Forty days was a long time to be away from one’s wife and children, and he could tell they missed theirs by the way they hung on every last uninteresting detail he could give them. He wanted to fulfill their yearning to hear about home, but he was grateful for the unexpected distraction and how it saved
him from more interrogation.
"That’s odd," he said. "Why are all those soldiers running in our direction?"
"Goliath," Seth muttered, angrily shaking his head. "He’s early today. He must be more eager than usual to threaten and mock our army."
"Goliath? Who’s that?"
"You haven’t heard?" Joel raised both eyebrows in surprise. "I thought even Bethlehem would know about him by now. Come and see for yourself. He’s rather hard to miss."
Joel got to his feet, dusted himself off, and motioned for Tobiah to follow. They made their way down the hill to the spot where Tobiah had found them earlier.
"There," Joel said, pointing a finger at the valley floor. "That’s Goliath."
Tobiah felt his chest tighten, and he took an involuntary step backward. Below him — just beyond bowshot of Israel’s archers — stood the most enormous man he had ever seen. He turned to look at Joel, and his brother gave him a grim smile.
"It’s the same thing every day," Joel said. "He comes, he challenges us, he insults us, and then he saunters back to his own hill like a cocky strutting rooster. No one ever accepts his challenge of course. Who would dare? But he comes back to shout it at us every day."
"Challenge? What do you mean?"
"Listen for yourself."
Tobiah waited and watched as Goliath lifted his massive head to stare up at Israel’s camp. The giant thumped the butt of his spear against the earth before shouting out in a booming voice that seemed to shake the valley.
"Hebrew dogs! Do you hear me? Choose a man from among you and send him down to fight! If he kills me, we will be your servants. If I kill him, you and your children and your children’s children will be slaves to us forever. Send me the best you have, you cowardly pack of dogs!"
"Give or take a few words and insults," Joel muttered, "he says pretty much the same thing every day. He isn’t very creative. But what he lacks in intelligence, he more than makes up for in pure brute strength."
Tobiah nodded, still too astounded to speak, and he continued to watch as the giant paced up and down the Hebrew lines. The Philistine laughed boisterously to himself as he hurled insult after insult at Israel’s armies.
There was a part of Tobiah that wanted to go down and teach Goliath some respect for the nation he was reviling. But something else — the part of him associated with the cold sensation now filling his stomach — warned against such rash action.
"Let’s go," Joel said, motioning for Tobiah to follow him back up the hill. "You’ve seen pretty much everything there is to see. He’ll go on like this for another twenty or thirty minutes until he finally grows tired of it. Like I said before, no one is going to challenge him. Even for the king’s reward, no one will be foolish enough to try."
"Reward?"
"Don’t even think about it," Joel said, scowling. "Seth and I aren’t letting you go down there no matter how you try to convince us."
Joel needn’t have worried about that. Tobiah had absolutely no intention of facing a giant – no matter what Saul’s reward might be. But he couldn’t help but wonder what the man who did manage to kill Goliath would get. He was also wondering what David would think when he found out about this. Unfortunately, David was nowhere to be seen.
"Where do you think David and his brothers have gone off to?" he asked. "Do you think they know about this?"
Joel looked at Tobiah and laughed. "Everybody knows about this. You and David are probably the only ones in this entire camp who hadn’t heard about it. But if I know David, he’ll be as interested as you are. Let’s find Seth. We should probably find David, too, and see if we can scrounge up something for both of you to eat. Come to think of it, I’m quite hungry myself."
Tobiah remembered the loaves of bread and bundles of parched corn he and David had brought. Maybe it would put Seth in a better mood. And maybe Tobiah could talk with David about the giant while they all sat together to eat.
—
Trouble had been brewing at the citadel for weeks now. Snide comments, like a tarnished platter of rotten fruit, passed regularly between Merab and Michal. But today when their paths crossed their animosity came to a rolling boil.
Mara couldn’t say she was surprised by the things they said to each other. When two friends both set their eyes on the same young man, they could fast become mortal enemies. When two sisters who already loathed each other did it, the conflict went beyond ugly.
"It must be like chewing bitter herbs," Michal said, sneering at her sister, "to discover you’re not a big enough prize for even the lowliest soldier in Israel’s armies. Not one of them has offered to fight to win your hand in marriage."
Merab tried to look unruffled by this comment, but Mara saw the hurt in her green eyes.
"Do you know what I think?" Merab replied.
"No, I don’t," Michal said. "And I don’t care. But I’m sure you’re going to tell us."
"I think you’re still jealous about David being so interested in me and hardly giving you the time of day," Merab said. "I also think you can’t stand the thought of any man finding me more attractive than you."
Michal’s counterattack was swift.
"Everyone knows the only way you could get David to look at you was to beg Father to set up those stupid harp lessons! You’re pathetic, Merab! Father can’t even get a husband for you when he offers gold and honor and land. Why would David care to give you a second glance?"
Again Merab maintained an outward show of indifference, but this comment had obviously cut even deeper than the first.
"You only say those things," Merab said, her voice cracking just a little, "because you suspect what you never actually got to see. David and I did more talking and sharing of feelings than playing of the harp. He told me several times how oddly he thinks you behave and how very much like a pesky, little gnat you are. Our time together – David’s and mine – would have been so much more delightful if we hadn’t always felt you lurking in our shadow."
"You’re lying! He didn’t say that about me! She’s lying, isn’t she, Mara!"
Mara looked helplessly between the two sisters, not wanting to be dragged into the middle of this. Ayalah and Keren, who were standing in their usual places a few paces behind Merab, each gave her a sympathetic look.
Luckily, Michal didn’t wait for Mara’s response. She whirled on Merab and lashed out with the full power of her unbridled tongue.
"You’re a vicious, conniving, dishonest little liar!" she shouted. "David never liked you, and both of us know he never will! Even the Philistines would leave you behind if they came to carry off the women of this city!"
By this time more than a few sets of eyes were watching the noisy altercation. Several palace cooks had left their duties in the kitchen, the few guards left to stand watch in the towers were staring down into the courtyard, and the sweeper who kept the citadel’s stone tiles clean had stopped to hold her broom in both hands and gawk at the fighting sisters.
"I don’t have time to listen to any more of this jealous nonsense," Merab snapped, turning her head so Mara and Michal could no longer see into her eyes. "Keren! Ayalah! We’re leaving! Right now!"
Though Merab had turned quickly away, she hadn’t turned quickly enough. There had been just an instant when Mara peered into her green eyes’ depths, and, in that brief moment, Merab’s true feelings had been laid bare. She did care about David. More than she’d revealed to Ayalah or anyone. Michal’s sharp words were like a knife in Merab’s stomach.
There was a smug grin on Michal’s face as she watched her sister depart, but it faded the moment Merab disappeared. Michal took Mara by the elbow to steer her into the courtyard’s far corner. Once there, she spoke in a conspiratorial whisper.
"Do you think it’s true?" Her face was tense with worry. "Do you think David really said those things about me?"
"No," Mara truthfully replied. "I think Merab made it up."
"I thought as much!" Michal paused to glower. "But did you see
the look I put on her face when I said even the Philistines wouldn’t have her?"
"Yes," Mara quietly replied.
"Merab thinks she’s so wonderful!" Michal said, turning to glare at the spot where Merab had last been standing. "She thinks she’s prettier than me and smarter than me and more desirable than me. I can’t stand her. Really I can’t!"
A few minutes earlier, Mara might have agreed with this assessment, but she wasn’t so sure anymore. She didn’t think Merab thought she was prettier, smarter, or more desirable than Michal. Merab probably thought just the opposite. And maybe that’s why Merab could never bring herself to say a civil word to Michal.
A familiar longing awakened itself in Mara’s heart — a longing to remove herself from this ongoing conflict. Mara felt like her entire life had been spent agreeing with Michal, solving Michal’s problems, and listening to Michal’s dreams and complaints. When would Mara ever have time to dream her own dreams or solve her own problems or have her own opinions?
If she could, she would find a way to leave and live a life of her own. The only problem was there was nowhere for her to go.
Chapter Nine
ט
And David said to Saul,
Let no man’s heart fail because
of him. Thy servant will
go and fight with this Philistine.
1 Samuel 17:32
Tobiah watched in silence, too stunned to do anything but stare, as David hopped off an overturned wagon’s edge and landed lightly on the battlefield beyond the barricades. He watched David walk with a slow, steady gait toward the giant, but, even seeing this, he still couldn’t convince himself David was actually going out to face Goliath.
"You don’t have to watch this," Joel said, clamping a trembling hand on Tobiah’s shoulder. "In fact, it will probably be better if you don’t."
Tobiah grimly shook his head. Even though he wasn’t at David’s side like he ought to be, he could still support his cousin in other ways. If nothing else, he could stand silent vigil at the barricade’s edge, offering his most fervent prayers to heaven.
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