Michal Read Online Free PDF Page B
Author: Jill Eileen Smith
heard there is a promise of no taxes,” the third said. “Not that it will do us any good dead.”
David jogged to another group sitting under the banner of Ephraim. “What will the king do for the man who slays this Philistine?”
“He’s promised great riches, and he’ll make him his son-in-law,” one said, scowling, then he walked off.
“If you don’t believe us, ask Prince Jonathan,” another man said. “They say he had to stop the king from bringing her to camp.” The man’s tone held disgust, matching David’s own. This was no place for a woman, least of all the beautiful, beguiling Merab. He could only imagine what would happen to her should she be taken among the spoils of war. A shudder passed through him.
The sound of shuffling feet met David’s ear. “What are you doing here, little brother?” Eliab, David’s oldest brother, grabbed the back of David’s tunic and spun him around, pulling him close and nearly spitting in his face. “And with whom have you left those few sheep in the wilderness? I know your pride and your wicked heart. You came to see the battle.”
Irritation spread through David, and he shoved both hands against Eliab’s chest, breaking free of his grip. “What have I done now? Is there not a cause?” His gaze met the burning coals of Eliab’s hardened eyes.
“Your questions aren’t helping anything.” He straightened his shoulders and tossed David a final, haughty glare. “Do not make a nuisance of yourself, little brother.” He stomped off.
David lifted his chin and stared after Eliab. His brother would never change. If anything, he’d only become more antagonistic since David’s anointing by the prophet Samuel. Must he always meet with such opposition?
He walked on to the next tribe and came upon a group of Benjamites about a stone’s throw from the ornate tent of the king. Armed guards stood watch outside, and servants scurried about, carrying skins of wine and trays of roasted meat into the tent. Something was seriously wrong here. Saul should be walking among his men, encouraging them, seeking the Lord’s guidance in what to do about this Philistine.
“Has the king consulted with the priests to determine the will of the Lord?” David asked a man who sat in front of his tent hugging his knees to his chest. He knew the prophet Samuel wouldn’t be coming. Samuel had told him months ago that he would no longer appear in Saul’s court or anywhere else in the vicinity of the king.
The man lifted troubled eyes to David, and his shoulders slumped in a deep sigh. “The king has offered riches, tax exemption, and his daughter’s hand in marriage to the slayer of Goliath.”
“Goliath?” So that was his name.
“Goliath of Gath. They say he’s one of the sons of Anak.” He studied his feet. “He’s too strong for us, you know. There isn’t a man in Israel who comes close to his height. Not even the king.”
King Saul was well known for his stature in Israel, towering head and shoulders above most men. Yet David bristled, the hairs on his arms prickling his flesh. What difference did a man’s height make? “The Lord is on our side,” he said, straightening. “We have nothing to fear.”
The man looked at David as though he had lost his mind. David was about to turn away when he felt a hand touch his shoulder. He looked into the face of Saul’s general, Abner.
“Are you the young man who asked about the Philistine?”
“Yes, my lord.”
Abner motioned with his hand. “Come with me.”
The commander, with a stiff-backed march, led David to the king’s tent. As Abner lifted the black flap, flickering light spilled over the entrance. David removed his sandals and ducked his head to enter the plush oriental interior. He took in the room and found King Saul seated upon a raised dais of embroidered pillows, Jonathan to his right. Abner approached and knelt at Saul’s feet.
“This is the one who’s been asking the questions, my king.”
David jogged to another group sitting under the banner of Ephraim. “What will the king do for the man who slays this Philistine?”
“He’s promised great riches, and he’ll make him his son-in-law,” one said, scowling, then he walked off.
“If you don’t believe us, ask Prince Jonathan,” another man said. “They say he had to stop the king from bringing her to camp.” The man’s tone held disgust, matching David’s own. This was no place for a woman, least of all the beautiful, beguiling Merab. He could only imagine what would happen to her should she be taken among the spoils of war. A shudder passed through him.
The sound of shuffling feet met David’s ear. “What are you doing here, little brother?” Eliab, David’s oldest brother, grabbed the back of David’s tunic and spun him around, pulling him close and nearly spitting in his face. “And with whom have you left those few sheep in the wilderness? I know your pride and your wicked heart. You came to see the battle.”
Irritation spread through David, and he shoved both hands against Eliab’s chest, breaking free of his grip. “What have I done now? Is there not a cause?” His gaze met the burning coals of Eliab’s hardened eyes.
“Your questions aren’t helping anything.” He straightened his shoulders and tossed David a final, haughty glare. “Do not make a nuisance of yourself, little brother.” He stomped off.
David lifted his chin and stared after Eliab. His brother would never change. If anything, he’d only become more antagonistic since David’s anointing by the prophet Samuel. Must he always meet with such opposition?
He walked on to the next tribe and came upon a group of Benjamites about a stone’s throw from the ornate tent of the king. Armed guards stood watch outside, and servants scurried about, carrying skins of wine and trays of roasted meat into the tent. Something was seriously wrong here. Saul should be walking among his men, encouraging them, seeking the Lord’s guidance in what to do about this Philistine.
“Has the king consulted with the priests to determine the will of the Lord?” David asked a man who sat in front of his tent hugging his knees to his chest. He knew the prophet Samuel wouldn’t be coming. Samuel had told him months ago that he would no longer appear in Saul’s court or anywhere else in the vicinity of the king.
The man lifted troubled eyes to David, and his shoulders slumped in a deep sigh. “The king has offered riches, tax exemption, and his daughter’s hand in marriage to the slayer of Goliath.”
“Goliath?” So that was his name.
“Goliath of Gath. They say he’s one of the sons of Anak.” He studied his feet. “He’s too strong for us, you know. There isn’t a man in Israel who comes close to his height. Not even the king.”
King Saul was well known for his stature in Israel, towering head and shoulders above most men. Yet David bristled, the hairs on his arms prickling his flesh. What difference did a man’s height make? “The Lord is on our side,” he said, straightening. “We have nothing to fear.”
The man looked at David as though he had lost his mind. David was about to turn away when he felt a hand touch his shoulder. He looked into the face of Saul’s general, Abner.
“Are you the young man who asked about the Philistine?”
“Yes, my lord.”
Abner motioned with his hand. “Come with me.”
The commander, with a stiff-backed march, led David to the king’s tent. As Abner lifted the black flap, flickering light spilled over the entrance. David removed his sandals and ducked his head to enter the plush oriental interior. He took in the room and found King Saul seated upon a raised dais of embroidered pillows, Jonathan to his right. Abner approached and knelt at Saul’s feet.
“This is the one who’s been asking the questions, my king.”