A Captain in Israel

by Alex Chappell

  Abda hopped down from his cart, motioned for Tobiah to follow him, and together they walked to the stables toward a soldier with a short sparse beard and friendly blue eyes. He was inspecting a line of donkeys and cart ponies.

  "Micah," Abda called. "This is David’s cousin, Tobiah. David tells me he’s dependable and a hard worker. I’m going to leave him in your capable hands."

  Micah grinned – an expression he seemed accustomed to wearing – and he extended a welcoming hand. "I’ll be glad to have your help and your company," he said. "We keepers of the carriage don’t have the most glorious job in the king’s army, but it’s quickly noticed when we’re not doing it right. You’re from a shepherding family, aren’t you?"

  Tobiah nodded.

  "You must know a thing or two about animals. I don’t know how long we’ll be away from Gibeah or how often we’ll be moving from one place to another, so I’ll need your help to pick out the strongest and healthiest of these beasts. We don’t want any that will grow sick or lame before our mission ends."

  Tobiah felt some of his growing apprehension diminish. He was glad to have a task that made him feel useful, and Micah seemed to be an agreeable sort of man.

  "I see you have a sword," Micah said, waving to Abda as the keeper of the carriage left them.

  "Yes. It’s a Philistine sword. From the Valley of Elah."

  "Hopefully there will be no call for you to use it; but supply wagons, from time to time, have been known to fall under attack. Part of keeping the carriage is to guard it against theft. It’s always good to keep at least one watchful eye open and one hand near your sword."

  "I’ll remember," Tobiah said. And, at the same time, he vowed never to let news of the possibility of such danger reach his mother’s ears.

  Two of the stable attendants approached with a pair of reluctant donkeys and Tobiah inspected their hooves, hides, and ears.

  "Have you ever been with a supply caravan that was attacked?" he asked Micah after a few moments.

  "Me?" Micah shook his head and laughed. "No. I’ve never been assigned to any mission dangerous enough. Abda sees to it I’m only involved in low risk situations. My mother – she’s Uncle Abda’s younger sister – constantly worries about my safety. The only reason I’m in charge of David’s supplies is his army will outnumber the enemy ten to one. My mother wouldn’t let Abda hear the end of it if she thought I was in any real danger."

  Tobiah grinned. He felt a sudden connection with this man. He knew exactly what Micah was going through.

  Together they inspected the entire row of pack animals before moving to the wagons to make a final inspection of the supplies. During this brief inspection, Tobiah learned Micah was twenty years old, that he – like Tobiah – was the youngest son in a large family, and he and his parents were seriously considering a betrothal to a young Benjamite woman who lived near Gibeah. This last bit of information made Tobiah think of Mara, and he realized he would have to miss their next meeting at the well. It surprised him just how downcast this made him feel.

  "Well, everything’s ready here," Micah said, cheerfully slapping one hand against the last cart’s side. "You should probably go find David now. I imagine you’ll be very busy between here and our final destination."

  "I will?"

  "A marching procession of a thousand men is a large group to lead. David can’t be everywhere at once, so he’ll need you to deliver his orders up and down the line."

  "Of course." Tobiah felt sheepish. "I guess you’re right. It was a pleasure meeting you today, Micah."

  "Likewise," Micah replied. "We’ll work together again once we reach the Shephelah.

  Peace be upon you until then."

  "And upon you as well," Tobiah quickly responded.

  All his life, Tobiah had been waiting to be a part of the defense of his people. He’d dreamed of the moment when he would march under Israel’s banner and proudly fight against Israel’s enemies. But now – now that the moment was finally here – he was reluctant to leave.

  Was the hollow ache in his heart the same thing his father and brothers had felt when they left their wives to defend the kingdom? He wasn’t leaving a wife, but he still felt sharp twinges of unhappiness as he thought about no longer seeing Mara every day.

  Tobiah glanced in the well’s direction. He was glad he wasn’t a soldier yet. He wanted to live to see Mara again.

  —

  Mara stood with Michal atop one of the fortress’s four tall towers and watched as David, followed by his thousand, approached the king and the small contingent of advisors who waited at the gates to see David off. The approach of David and his soldiers was an awesome sight. A river of men bearing a forest of long, sharpened spears flowed like a powerful current toward the citadel. Mara’s eyes were momentarily dazzled by the reflection of sunlight off a thousand burnished, bronze breastplates, and the stamp of marching feet caused the stones beneath the tower to tremble. She couldn’t help but be impressed by this spectacle of Israel’s military might, but she also felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

  Tobiah was down there walking a few paces behind David. He probably couldn’t see her watching from the tower, and he certainly couldn’t realize what bittersweet turmoil the mere sight of him brought to her heart. The knowledge he was marching toward possible peril upset her in ways she hadn’t expected.

  "He looks even more like a king than my father," a quiet, sad voice said from beside her.

  Mara suddenly remembered Michal was still standing next to her, and she turned to put an arm around her cousin’s shoulders.

  "Yes, he does look quite magnificent, doesn’t he?" Mara agreed.

  "I suppose this is the last time I’ll see David as an unbetrothed man," Michal mumbled.

  "David? Oh… Yes… Of course. That’s who we’re talking about. David."

  "When he gets back…" Michal paused, unable to finish her sentence, and Mara didn’t think she’d ever seen Michal look so dejected.

  "Do you want to go somewhere else?" Mara asked, wishing there was something she could do or say to cheer her cousin up.

  "No. I just want to watch him until he leaves. I want one last image to remember him by. An image other than the sight of him standing beneath a wedding bower with Merab. That’s going to be the worst part of this whole thing. The part where I have to stand by, smiling, while my sister marries the man I love."

  Mara didn’t know what else to say, but Michal wasn’t expecting an answer. David had reached the gates now, and he stopped to make bow low before Saul. The king wore a smug look as he moved forward to greet his young servant.

  "David," Saul exclaimed, embracing David and kissing him once on each cheek. "Today you and I part as king and servant, but when you come back it will all be different. Upon your triumphant return you will have earned the right to call me ‘Father,’ and then we will celebrate your victory by your marriage to my eldest daughter, Merab."

  "I will serve you faithfully and honorably," David said, "as I ever have. And whatever victory God sees fit to give to me and my men, the glory will be His."

  "Of course! Of course!" Saul said. "Now go and march swiftly. Beth-shemesh is in your hands."

  David bowed once more and saluted his king. Then he motioned to his men and they wheeled about to follow him down the hill. The tower’s stone walls trembled as David’s army resumed its march.

  Mara cast another glance at Michal and saw her cousin’s lower lip was trembling. Michal’s green eyes were dangerously close to shedding tears. At the moment, Mara felt close to tears herself.

  The long line of soldiers quickly reached the hill’s base, smiling and waving at Gibeah’s citizens who filled the air with the noisy rattle of their timbrels and their enthusiastic cheers. It was almost as if David were a conquering general, returning home in glory, rather than an untested captain going forth to face new and unknown dangers.

  Mara risked a look at Saul and saw the same black look on his face she�
��d seen the other times David received attention from the people. She felt certain David would be safer in the Philistines’ shadow than here within Saul’s reach, but a part of her – a selfish part – wanted David to stay so Tobiah wouldn’t have to leave.

  It didn’t take long for the marching soldiers to reach the city’s outskirts, and Mara waited several moments to see if Michal was finally ready to leave. She was about to ask when Michal, voice trembling, said, "He didn’t even see me. He didn’t even bother to look up. Maybe he does want to be with Merab. Maybe he would rather have her for a wife than me."

  "I saw no joy on his face when your father mentioned the wedding," Mara said. As she spoke, she gently moved Michal toward the spiraling steps leading to the foot of the tower. "David loves you, not Merab. I can assure you of that."

  Michal looked at Mara. It was a piercing, desperate look.

  "How?" Michal demanded. "How can you assure me of that? Have you spoken with David? Has he told you he loves me and not my sister?"

  "No…"

  She wanted to tell Michal everything she knew, but she had promised Tobiah she wouldn’t.

  "No," she repeated. "I haven’t spoken with him, but you’ll have to trust me. He does love you. And if he could find a way to marry you, he would do it. I know he would."

  Michal stared at her and tiredly shook her head. They had nearly reached the base of the tower.

  "Do you think he’ll be gone long? Do you think he’ll be gone for weeks or months? Or do you think it will only be days?"

  Mara shrugged. "I suppose it all depends on when the Philistines decide to show their faces. It’s only a matter of time before they attack."

  "I hope they delay," Michal said. "I hope David is forced to patrol the borders for months on end with no sign of any Philistine soldiers. The longer Merab has to wait for her wedding, the happier I’ll be."

  It seemed the sooner this wedding was done and over with, the sooner Michal’s broken heart could heal, but Mara, as she did with so many of her thoughts, kept this one to herself as well. Michal was already aggravated enough. It wouldn’t do to upset her further.

  They stepped into the courtyard and made their way toward Michal’s bedchamber, but they were no more than a few steps from the tower when a familiar voice called out to them.

  "Mara! Michal! Shalom!"

  "Shalom," the two girls said, turning to face Mara’s father.

  He must have been standing among Saul’s advisors when David stopped before the citadel gate, because he was approaching from that direction.

  "Do you mind if I steal my daughter away for a moment?" Gideon asked, turning with a smile to Michal. "I have something of extreme importance to discuss with her. I promise it won’t take long."

  Michal, too depressed to pretend to return his smile, looked at Mara, looked back at Gideon, listlessly nodded and walked away. Gideon motioned to a far corner of the courtyard and Mara followed.

  "Michal looks miserable," Gideon said. "She isn’t still infatuated with David, is she?"

  Mara saw no point in hiding the truth. She’d already revealed Michal’s feelings for David. If her father hadn’t already given this information to Saul, it was doubtful he would now.

  "Michal is taking the upcoming marriage very hard," Mara said. "I’d probably be equally upset if one of my sisters were to marry the man I loved."

  "Fortunately for all of us," Gideon said, "you’ve never had the chance to fall in love. What is love? It brings nothing but trouble upon everyone involved!" He paused for a moment, his face darkening.

  Though he didn’t say it, Mara knew his anger was kindled by memories of Ayalah and Josiah, but his anger faded quickly and he said, "Michal is more fortunate than she realizes. Better to be an unhappy princess than a grieving widow."

  Mara frowned, suddenly concerned, and her father looked around to make sure no one else was listening. When he continued, he spoke in a low conspiratorial whisper.

  "Michal is going to need all the comfort and sympathy you can give her before this week is through. The people of Gibeah expect David to return after a quick and glorious victory, but I’ll warn you in advance it’s unlikely he’ll return from the Shephelah alive. Let no one know you heard this from me, but be prepared to comfort Michal when his death is announced."

  "His death? What are you talking about?" Mara was so upset she didn’t think to lower her voice. "The Philistine forces are small. What makes you believe he’ll be killed?"

  Gideon put a finger to his lips, and glanced around with fear in his eyes.

  "Not so loud! The king stands just outside the gates! Tell no one what I’m about to tell you. David doesn’t know this, but the Philistine forces are much larger than he realizes. The Philistines outnumber David’s forces nearly three to one. What’s more, nearly a thousand Philistine chariots lay hidden at the Nahal Sorek’s western end. Any fool who takes his army into the valley will be butchered by Philistine charioteers. Saul is counting on David to be that fool. Our proud young military champion will have absolutely no chance of victory."

  Mara stared at her father, words abandoning her. Finally she managed to choke out, "But

  Why? Why would Saul send all those men to their deaths?"

  She knew the answer even before she asked it. Saul’s insane jealousy had driven him to a point where he’d throw away his best soldiers’ lives just to destroy David. She’d only suspected it before, but now she was certain — Israel’s king had gone completely mad.

  "David is a threat to Saul’s kingship," Gideon said, seeing the look on his daughter’s face. He spoke as if a thousand innocent men’s needless deaths was a matter of small importance. "Sometimes, for the kingdom’s greater good, a few lives must be lost. We have too many enemies as it is. We cannot tolerate an enemy within no matter how young, handsome, or popular he is. If Saul doesn’t do something now, we could one day end up with two competing kings. That would lead to anarchy and chaos. It would lead to utter annihilation."

  Mara couldn’t believe such words were actually coming from her father’s mouth. She couldn’t believe he would so easily accept Saul’s crazed and inaccurate views of David or that he would be so blind to the evil consequences of Saul’s plans. She opened and closed her mouth, searching for words, but none would come. She nearly choked when a sudden, terrible realization hit her.

  Tobiah! Tobiah was with David! He, like David and all the other men of David’s thousand, would be caught in the trap Saul was sending them into. She had to struggle within herself to prevent an anguished cry from escaping her lips. She felt faint and nearly lost her balance.

  "I…I need to be on my way," she stammered, supporting herself by placing the palm of one hand against the citadel wall. "Michal is having a bad day. She needs me."

  "Yes. Go and fulfill your duties. And remember what I’ve told you. Prepare her for the worst. Be there for her when she needs it."

  Mara nodded. She would be there for Michal. But who was going to be there for her?

  —

  The march to the Shephelah wasn’t the thrilling adventure Tobiah hoped it would be. Instead, it was a long, tedious journey that left every muscle in his body aching and the soles of his feet raw and sore.

  He’d intended to have a serious conversation with David while they marched. He’d planned to confront David about Saul’s attempt on his life. But once the journey began there was little time for talk. As Micah had already warned him, Tobiah was kept busy relaying David’s orders to the officers at the middle and the end of the moving column, and when they stopped for the night he was busy at the supply wagons. By his own calculations, Tobiah had walked more than twice the distance of any other man in the army. He decided he’d also worked twice as hard as any of them.

  Maybe this was David’s wicked plan – to keep Tobiah so exhausted he wouldn’t want to be near any battle. If so, assigning him to supply duty was the way to do it.

  First there were tents to pitch. Next Micah needed hi
s help to unhitch the mules and ponies, lead them to water, and tether them where they could drink and graze. It was nearly three hours after their march before Tobiah got a chance to stretch out flat in the dust and rest his weary limbs.

  David’s camp was located approximately one mile from Beth-shemesh in the lightly forested hills edging the Valley of Sorek’s northern side. The broad valley ran east to west from Beth-shemesh to the Plains of Philistia, and Beth-shemesh crouched like a nervous sentinel atop the valley’s eastern edge. From here David would have a lookout point to guard against unexpected Philistine attacks. The oak clumps growing on this hill would make it difficult for Philistine scouts to observe David’s army and estimate its numbers, but David would see any attack the Philistines launched.

  "I didn’t expect to have casualties this soon. You must either be half dead from the march or else that’s the softest earth in these hills."

  Tobiah opened his eyes, startled, and saw David, wearing a weary grin, leaning against a nearby cart. Despite his tired limbs’ protests, Tobiah rolled quickly to his feet and dusted himself off.

  "I was taking a short break," he said, his voice sounding sullen even to him. "Do you have more messages for me to deliver?"

  David shook his head, lowered himself to the earth, and sat back against a wagon wheel. "No. I’m not here to run you ragged. In fact, you have the right idea. A good rest is what everyone needs. I might have made a mistake marching our forces so mercilessly to this valley. If the Philistines attack now, we’ll be too weary to lift our swords."

  Tobiah watched David, uncertain what to do, then he slipped to the earth and leaned against the other wheel. They were both silent as they stared together at a brilliant sunset’s red, orange, and purple hues. Finally, David spoke.

  "Back at Gibeah," he began, "you said you needed to speak with me. Do you have time now?"

  "Yes. But if you’re tired, we can always discuss it later."

  David shook his head. "In the morning it will be too hectic. Now’s as good a time as any."