A Captain in Israel

by Alex Chappell

  On David’s orders the hum of whirling slings and the twang of tightly strung bows filled the air. Another deadly rain fell over the Philistine hosts, but this time it wasn’t enough. For each charioteer that fell, at least ten others made it, unscathed, past the falling projectiles. Chariot after chariot crashed through the Hebrew defenses. The real battle had begun.

  Tobiah dodged a maddened horse’s hooves and dashed to one side to avoid a chariot’s wheels. Screams rang out around him – some from fellow Hebrews’ throats and others from wounded Philistines. In a matter of moments, the valley had changed from a scene of pastoral tranquility to a chaotic bloodbath. To make matters worse, Tobiah had somehow become separated from David and the men charged to protect him.

  Not far away, a Philistine charioteer noticed Tobiah and picked him out as an easy target. The Philistine turned his chariot in a quick wide arc and thundered headlong at Tobiah.

  For an instant, Tobiah experienced the same mind-numbing fear he’d suffered the first time another man attacked him; but this time he raised his sword in defiance, determined to survive.

  The Philistine’s snorting horses bore down on Tobiah. He didn’t move until the last possible moment. As the charioteer leaned forward to impale him, Tobiah spun to one side and struck a glancing blow at the Philistine’s chest. The force of the blow sent his enemy spinning out the chariot’s open back. It also knocked Tobiah to the earth. He lay stunned for several moments until enough of his senses returned to allow him to struggle upright. He regained his feet none too soon.

  The Philistine, also lifting himself, shook his head in confusion. An angry stream of profanities escaped his lips and, as he reached for his sword, Tobiah rushed at him. The events of the next few seconds would be etched in Tobiah’s mind for the rest of his life.

  His first blow was blocked by a hasty counterattack from the Philistine’s sword. The two iron blades collided with a sharp, metallic clang. Orange sparks fell from the forged iron, singing the air, but the fallen charioteer wasn’t fast enough to avoid Tobiah’s second thrust. The tip of Tobiah’s blade met its mark. The Philistine looked at him with a surprised expression. Tobiah pulled his sword back and watched his enemy fall to the earth. He was almost as stunned by what he’d done as the Philistine was.

  Surprise faded quickly, replaced first by revulsion then horror. Tobiah staggered and nearly fell to his knees. He had just taken the life of another man and could never give it back.

  There was no glory in war. None at all. He just wanted to escape this place and never look back.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  כב

  I will be glad and rejoice in

  thy mercy: for thou hast considered

  my trouble; thou hast known

  my soul in adversities…

  Psalm 31:7

  The Nahal Sorek’s lower floor was littered with broken overturned chariots. Dead men’s glazed eyes stared sightlessly toward the heavens. The carnage around him was awful, yet Tobiah and most of David’s army still lived.

  After the first two waves of chariots, David had ordered his army to continue their retreat. Chariots were useless on Beth-shemesh’s steep slopes. The greatest threat now came from the hordes of Philistine foot soldiers who had been hiding in the hills. Against this new threat, David changed his tactics.

  Swords were sheathed and bundles of arrows – already transported by Micah into Beth-shemesh – were brought out to replenish empty quivers. Even Tobiah ended up with a strong new bow in his hands and a pile of arrows at his feet.

  Few of the Philistines managed to make it past the well-aimed arrows of David’s highly-trained troops. Those who did were cut down with swords and spears. God’s arm was stretched out in David’s behalf.

  Tobiah let an arrow fly and watched it strike its mark. Time and time again his enemies fell unexpectedly before him. He wasn’t sure why he was spared when other – better – men died beside him, but he was grateful for the Lord’s protection.

  The pile of arrows at his feet was almost depleted by the time the Philistines, their losses heavy, retreated. David’s soldiers pursued them to the base of the hill, but were too exhausted to follow them farther.

  The battle was over. It took some time for Tobiah to accept immediate danger had passed. Only when he was certain of his safety did he allow himself to sink to the earth. The sun was setting, and the Nahal Sorek was bathed in eerie crimson light.

  Tobiah had witnessed other sunsets like this. They had seemed beautiful before, but now the sky seemed stained with blood. He pressed his face against his knees, covered his head with both hands, and tried to forget everything he had just experienced. He wasn’t sure how long he sat this way, struggling with his emotions, but his thoughts were eventually interrupted by the weight of a familiar hand on his shoulder.

  "Tobiah?"

  Tobiah looked up and was greeted by a broad relieved smile.

  "It is you! I was beginning to fear we’d lost you to the Philistines!"

  David extended a hand, pulled Tobiah to his feet, and immediately enveloped him in a back-slapping embrace.

  "I thought you were dead, Tobiah. I would have never been able to forgive myself if you’d been killed today."

  "I’m still alive," Tobiah replied. "But more than a few Philistines tried their best to prevent it."

  "What happened to you? I told you to stay with my personal guards."

  "I got separated when the chariots broke through our lines. I was going to look for you but found myself rather busy trying to stay alive."

  "Well, I’m glad you succeeded," David said, smiling. "I wish I could say the same about all my men." At this, he turned to stare into the valley. Tobiah saw pain etched into his face.

  "How many of us survived?" Tobiah asked.

  David shook his head. "The officers are gathering their troops, making lists of the missing and wounded. It appears the Philistines were far less fortunate than we. But even one man lost is one loss too many. I…I can’t help but think about their families. I thought a lot about your family today. About what I might have to tell them after this was over."

  "It’s not your fault. None of what happened today was your fault. Saul told you there was only a small Philistine force in the valley. Even some of your own scouts thought the same."

  "I know. But I should have been more cautious. I should have done more to preserve my men’s lives. You were a hero, Tobiah. If not for you, my entire army would have been slaughtered."

  "There were many heroes today," Tobiah quickly replied. He was unworthy of David’s compliment. "I only did my duty like any other man in your army would do. The real honor goes to you. It was your plan that foiled the Philistines. It was because of you the greater part of us made it to Beth-shemesh alive."

  David shook his head.

  "No. It wasn’t me. If we’re going to give honor, let us give it to the Lord. I did little more than act as an instrument in His hands. It was His power that preserved us. Not mine."

  Tobiah nodded. He’d seen enough miracles today to thoroughly agree.

  "What happens now?" he asked after several moments of silence. "We didn’t kill all of them. Do you think the ones who are left will be back to fight again?"

  "Not anytime soon. It will take them time to recover from this defeat. But I don’t think they’re ready to give up. They’ll come back again like they always do. It might be here. It might be in the Valley of Elah. Wherever it is, they’ll be back."

  Tobiah closed his eyes. Philistine attacks were an unavoidable fact of life. It had been this way since his birth. He wondered if his children and grandchildren would experience the same endless conflict his generation and so many others had passed through.

  "I have a job for you," David said. "Do you feel up to returning to Gibeah tomorrow?"

  Tobiah opened his eyes. Gibeah. Gibeah meant seeing Mara.

  "I can make the trip," he said. "What do you need me to do?"

  "I want the fam
ilies of the men who died to know what happened here – to have time to grieve before our army marches back without their sons and husbands. Will you deliver a list of their names to the king?"

  "Yes. Of course."

  "And once you’ve delivered that letter to Saul, I’d like you to find another courier to deliver two other letters to Bethlehem. I want your parents and my parents to know we’re still alive."

  "I’ll see to it."

  David turned and stared across the valley. Night’s dark fingers were beginning to creep across the landscape, and the fading sunset cast sharp shadows across David’s face. For a moment Tobiah caught a glimpse of the burden his cousin carried. On a day such as this, the burden of leadership must weigh more heavily on him than ever.

  Tobiah was suddenly grateful God hadn’t called upon him to carry such burdens. David couldn’t escape them whereas Tobiah could return to Gibeah and leave this experience temporarily behind him.

  Mara. He could see Mara again.

  This last thought brought strong emotions with it. There were things he needed to say to her – words he hadn’t yet had the courage to speak but couldn’t put off any longer. He needed to know how she felt about him and needed to let her know his feelings for her.

  Fortunately, he had a long walk ahead of him and plenty of time to decide how to tell her he loved her.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  כג

  …Weeping may endure for a night,

  but joy cometh in the morning…

  Psalm 30:5

  It was a little past midday, and Michal, moody as usual, had retired to her bed for a nap. Usually Mara welcomed such times. It gave her an opportunity to return to the servants’ quarters and take care of her own neglected needs. But today she was encompassed by depression. Time alone only gave her more opportunities to dwell on her problems.

  Rather than return to the servants’ quarters, she allowed her feet to take her where they would. Not surprisingly, she ended up at the city well.

  The well was abandoned this time of the day. Most women preferred to fill their empty water vessels during the morning’s cooler hours. This meant Mara had the well entirely to herself. She knew it probably wasn’t a good idea to come here – it reminded her too much of Tobiah – but she already felt so miserable a little more misery made no difference.

  Her father had sought her out again this morning. He was so excited about marrying her to Ish-bosheth he could barely contain his enthusiasm. He still didn’t notice the deep melancholy that had settled over her, or, if he did, he didn’t care. At least someone found happiness in her great misfortune. She didn’t think she could ever be happy again.

  "I’d draw water for you, but you have no vessel to carry it in."

  Mara spun, blinked, and stared in disbelief at Tobiah. She paused only an instant before running to him and wrapping her arms around his neck in eager desperation.

  The Tobiah who encircled her with his own strong arms was a different Tobiah from the young man she last remembered. This Tobiah looked older than the boy who left for Beth-shemesh. His handsome features were drawn, and his eyes were weary. But it was Tobiah, and he seemed genuinely pleased to see her. The dark cloud surrounding her momentarily lifted.

  "Tobiah," she whispered. "You’re alive. You’re here."

  "Yes," he said, chuckling. "Everyone seems surprised."

  "I’ve prayed for you every day." She melted into him. "I…I feared you wouldn’t survive."

  "I almost didn’t," he admitted. "The Philistines laid a trap for David in the Nahal Sorek, and I had to go down into the valley to warn him. If not for the Almighty’s protection, all of us would have been massacred."

  "My father told me what was waiting for you, but I didn’t have a chance to warn you. He told me after you left."

  "Your father knew about it?" Tobiah released her and stumbled backward. "If your father knew about this, then Saul…"

  Mara nodded. "Saul knew about it, too. He was attempting to send you to your deaths. I wanted to go after you and warn you. I wanted to do something. But all I had power to do was pray."

  "Lately, that’s all any of us seem to have power to do," Tobiah replied with a scowl. "But it’s a sad day when our prayers are needed to protect us from our own king. What new kinds of deceit will he have waiting for David now that the latest attempt to destroy him has failed?"

  Mara didn’t answer. She knew at least one other way Saul was about to wrong David, but she didn’t want to add more fuel to Tobiah’s angry fire. Selfishly, she wanted to enjoy a quiet moment with him free from all the Goliath-sized troubles they couldn’t seem to escape.

  "I’m sorry," Tobiah said. He shook his head and pulled her back into his arms. "This isn’t why I came to find you. I have other things I need to say to you. Important, life-altering things."

  He held her even closer. So close she had to tilt her head back to look up into his eyes. For some reason, she trembled as she waited for him to speak.

  "I missed you," Tobiah said. His voice was low and quiet. "I missed our conversations. I missed our early morning walks and the sunrises we enjoyed together. I know we met only a short time ago, but it seems as if I’ve known you much longer. It seems as if I’ve known you for an eternity. What I’m trying to say is…is…I love you, Mara. I want to be with you. I want to be with you forever."

  He paused, waiting uncertainly for her response. These were the exact words she’d hoped to hear him speak. To be with him was her heart’s greatest desire, but her reaction wasn’t what either of them expected.

  Tears – hot tears – welled up in her eyes. She lowered her head and choked on unwanted sobs.

  "I-I’m sorry," Tobiah stammered, immediately backing away. "If my words are unwelcome, I apologize."

  She didn’t allow him to finish. She pulled his slackening arms around her and held on until her sobbing subsided.

  "There’s nothing unwelcome about your words," she whispered. "More than anything those are the words I’ve wanted to hear. But…but…I fear they’ve come too late."

  "I don’t understand," Tobiah said. "If you feel the same for me, why are you so unhappy?"

  Mara attempted to swallow the hard lump that had lodged itself in her throat.

  "My father has promised me to another man." Her voice was hoarse. "I’m to be betrothed to…to a powerful person…as soon as Merab’s betrothal to Adriel the Meholathite is completed."

  She watched the blood drain from Tobiah’s face and saw anger cloud his eyes. Then a new look reshaped his features – a look of ferocious determination.

  "You’re not betrothed yet?"

  "No. Not yet. But—"

  "It isn’t too late! I can go to your father and tell him we love each other. I’ll explain everything and ask him to allow you to be my wife."

  Mara’s heart swelled, but an icy sensation pulsed in a dark corner of her mind. It was fear. She knew her father would never agree to this union. She’d seen what happened with Ayalah. It would be even worse for her.

  "He’ll reject your petition. He’ll drive you from his house and maybe even look for ways to harm you. There are complications I haven’t revealed. Problems that might be insurmountable."

  "There can’t be any complication greater than the ones God helped me overcome in the Nahal Sorek." Tobiah dropped his arms, balled his hands into fists, and spoke in a fierce voice. "If you love me enough to try, we’ll find a way around the obstacles."

  Mara allowed a hopeful smile to flicker across her lips, and Tobiah reached out and took her hands in his.

  "I have to deliver some messages for David," he said. "But I need to talk to you again. Can you speak with me later this afternoon? Is there somewhere private we can go?"

  "The practice field," Mara answered. "Most of the troops are deployed throughout the Shephelah. Those who remain haven’t been using the field."

  "I’ll meet you there," Tobiah said.

  He stared at her, hesitated, and unex
pectedly placed his lips against hers. Mara felt dizzy and breathless when he finally pulled away.

  "The Lord means for the two of us to be together," Tobiah said. "I’m certain of it. We’ll place our faith in Him, and He’ll provide the means for it to happen."

  Mara nodded. Her pulse raced – a side-effect of the kiss and her nagging fears. Faith. She had to have faith. Because only the Lord could assure her future happiness.

  —

  "Are you looking for someone?"

  Gideon didn’t even attempt to hide his disdain as he stared down his long nose at Tobiah.

  "Yes. I’ve been waiting here to speak with you. I was wondering if we might have a word in private."

  Gideon looked around the empty courtyard and an annoyed expression came to his face.

  "I don’t see anyone else here. If you need a word in private, this is as private as it gets."

  Tobiah felt uncharacteristically nervous. He tried to stand tall – to appear confident – but his knees felt wobbly. He opened his mouth, trying to decide which words would be best, but Gideon spoke before he could.

  "Wait a moment… I know who you are. You’re that courier. David’s cousin. The one who delivered David’s letter to the king. What business does David have with me?"

  "I…I’m not here on David’s business," Tobiah stammered. "I’m here on my own business. I wish to speak with you about your daughter. I wish to discuss Mara’s future. I love her, and I want her to be my wife."

  Gideon blinked – apparently startled. When he answered, he spoke slowly and narrowed his eyes.

  "You love my daughter?"

  "Yes, and I’d like to discuss a bride price with you. Mara and I wish to marry. If you value her happiness, you’ll hear what I have to say."

  Gideon’s face hardened. "My daughter is already promised to another man. I think our conversation has come to its end."