David Ascendant (Chronicles of the Nephilim Book 7) (13 page)

Ishbi stumbled backward, almost losing consciousness. Goliath caught him.

It left Lahmi open. Lahmi swung punches at Ittai. Ittai dodged them and hammered a right-hand blow into Lahmi’s thigh.

Lahmi cried out in pain.

Ittai grabbed the stunned Lahmi and threw him into one of the pillars. It cracked and the entire edifice shook. Lahmi’s nose was broken and gushing blood.

Ittai turned to face the others. It was too late. Ishbi was on him. Ishbi tackled him to the ground and slugged Ittai. The cacophony of demonic whispers penetrated Ittai’s consciousness again. But Ishbi could not hold down the blacksmith for long. Ittai was deceptively strong—as strong as Ishbi himself. He was not going down easily.

Ittai landed one good slug on Ishbi’s face. Then the hand of Goliath pummeled his head from behind. Ittai blacked out.

He came to within seconds, only to be pummeled with revenge by the two bested giants. Stopping at an eye for an eye and tooth for a tooth was not a value of the Philistines. They began clubbing and pounding Ittai with the intent of breaking his nose and all his teeth, along with his jaw and any other bones they might add to the mix.

However, Goliath stopped them at the broken nose and concussion. He pulled Ishbi and Lahmi back. Ittai’s eyes were blurred with blood. He slipped in and out of consciousness. But he had just bested two of the mightiest warriors of Philistia. Call him a runt and dwarf shit, but he humiliated them and they knew it. Ittai actually bared a smile, looking up woozily at the giant Rephaim glaring down on him.

“Here it is” shouted Lahmi. He had Rahab in his hands. He had found it behind the furnace.

“Let me see that,” said Ishbi. Lahmi handed it to him. “So this is what all the fuss is about?”

Goliath threw a handful of coins onto Ittai. Some rolled away on the floor. “That is the price of your finest sword.” Then he threw a pouch of other coins onto him as well. “Here is the payment in advance for the scimitars. I expect them within the week and I expect them to be solid and strong.” He turned and barked to the others, “Let us go.”

They followed Goliath out. Then Lahmi turned back and spit on Ittai, hissing, “You are no Rephaim.”

Ittai thought,
I wish you were right
.

Then he blacked out.

When Ittai came back to consciousness, his bloody face was being wiped by a sniffling Ummi.

“My sweet love. What happened?”

Ittai groaned and pulled himself up to a sitting position against the center pole. “Sons of Rapha. I had something they wanted. But I would not give it up.”

“What did you have?”

“You would not understand.”

“I want to understand. Please tell me.”

“There is too much that you do not know. That I cannot tell you.”

“But why, my love? Do you not trust me? I love you.”

He paused. He could not say what he had to say. He swallowed with a dry throat. He struggled to get up with a few groans and a limp. He ushered her to the door.

He croaked out, “I-I want you to leave.”

“What? Why?”

“Because we are not going to marry. We are never going to marry.”

She started to cry. She felt like she was being hit in the stomach by an iron ball. “Why do you say that, Ittai? What do you mean?”

“We can never marry, because I am born of cursed blood.”

“I do not understand.”

He held up his hands and spread his fingers. She saw the scars on both hands. “I was born with six fingers on each hand and six toes on each foot.”

For the first time, she noticed his hands looked abnormal with only five fingers.

He said, “I have tried to hide my true identity from everyone.” He looked into her confused eyes. “From you.”

He paused to muster the courage to disclose his dark secret. To the one person whom he always thought could wash it away. Now, he knew nothing could save him.

“My mother was a Rapha.” He hung his head in pain. “I am a Rapha.”

“But you are not a giant.”

“It does not matter. I am born of cursed blood and I will not allow that curse to continue. My lineage dies with me. Find someone else to love.”

She stepped back away from him in shock.

He looked into her eyes, trying to understand what she was feeling, what she was thinking. But all he saw was fear.

Suddenly, she turned and ran out the door.

Everything in his being screamed to call her back, to apologize to her and say he would never say such terrible things ever again. He hated himself for doing so. He hated himself for not doing so.

He slammed the door shut and fell to the ground. He had never cried before in his entire life. But now everything in him came out in a flood. All his anger, all his sadness, every wrong he had suffered and every ounce of energy he had wasted trying to find redemption and make something useful out of his broken life. It was all a waste. A terrible waste. And now he had a broken heart.

He was cursed. There was no hope for him.

David watched his sheep under the early morning rising sun, but his mind was elsewhere. He thought of all the amazing happenings in his life in recent weeks and how quickly everything had happened. It was surely Yahweh’s hand.

The day Jonathan brought him to play music for the king had changed his life with new purpose. He decided it must have been the purpose of the Seer’s anointing. He had quickly discovered the ally he had in Jonathan, an unusual royal heir of integrity and character.

He had taken a liking to this man over twice his age. Jonathan had become his mentor, his best friend. They had seen something in each other that connected them. He was everything David wished to be. Jonathan was measured and temperate; David was passionate and unstable. Jonathan had a singularity of spiritual devotion; David struggled with a divided heart for Yahweh and for the flesh. Jonathan had courtly sophistication, David was a rustic. Jonathan had the wisdom of age, David had the recklessness of youth.

Jonathan had taken David under his wing and schooled him in the politics of the palace. They spent many hours together at both work and leisure. He became David’s confidant. He even shared family secrets and advised David not to reveal his anointing until Yahweh himself chose the time. When Jonathan discovered David’s battle skills, he was impressed and persuaded his father to make David one of the king’s armor-bearers.
When the king had one of his fits of madness, Jonathan would call upon David to play his lyre and soothe the beast.

But the summer months were beginning and David needed to spend time back home with the flock before shearing. His three eldest brothers were called up for military service. The Philistines had encamped in Ephes-dammim in battle array and the Israelites stood opposed in the valley of the Terebinth. As David tended the flocks, he wondered what the plan of the pagan Philistines could be
.

But he did not think on it for long, because he was making his own plans for Michal when he returned to the court. He was best friends with Jonathan, but he had fallen in love with Michal. They stole every moment they could to be together. They would sing praises and hymns to Yahweh. She was enamored with his playing, and he was mesmerized by her voice. They felt as if their souls were one. Their bodies craved to consummate that oneness of spirit. The only problem was that David was a palace servant without noble status and would never be allowed to marry her. They were simply in two different worlds. And it was driving him crazy. He would do anything,
anything
to win her hand.

This time, he had decided to wait on the Lord. He had made so many mistakes with young women in the past. He wanted to turn over a new leaf, and this time do it right. It made him seek Yahweh more earnestly. He would spend so much time and effort trying to seek Yahweh’s face that his knees would become bloody from scraping the ground, and his legs would lose their circulation.

David felt like a hybrid, a man torn between heaven and earth. He desired the glory of Yahweh with all his soul, but he longed for the comfort of Michal with all his body. Could these two things be opposites? Or could they be united in one spiritual unity? He had never been married. He could not know. But he longed for it to be true. He longed to be one with both Michal and Yahweh.

“David!” His father’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

It was unusual for his father to come out to the pasture. He would normally send one of the children.

“Yes, father?”

“Up with yourself! I have an important task for you. I have a shipment of provisions to send to your brothers on the front lines. Parched grain and loaves, and I do not want you sneaking any of it for yourself, do you hear me?”

“Yes, father.”

“I want you to see if they are well. And I have some cheese to give the commander of their thousand. I want you to leave immediately.”

“Yes, father.”

David left the sheep with a keeper and took the provisions for his father.

David arrived at the valley of the Terebinth, fifteen miles from Bethlehem, with his shipment of provisions. It was not uncommon for family members to send such care packages for the benefit of their beloved sons. David left the shipment with the keeper of the baggage and made his way through the ranks to greet his brothers, Eliab, Abinadab and Shammah.

Shammah saw him first. “David!”

Abinadab turned and saw him too. They both rushed their baby brother and gave him bear hugs.

Shammah said, “Have you brought us some vittles? The military food is abominable.”

David said, “And some cheese to bribe your commander for favor.”

They smiled.

A call to arms interrupted them. A ram’s horn bellowed throughout the valley.

“Is it battle?” asked David.

“In a manner of speaking,” said Shammah. “Come and see.”

David followed them to the front. As they walked, Shammah explained the strategic location of this valley in accessing the Israelite hill country. If the Philistines secured a victory here, they could strangle Saul’s stronghold of the region.

The Israelites were encamped on one mountain and the Philistines on another mountain. Between them was the valley lined with Terebinth trees and a brook that ran through the valley center.

In the empty valley, a single warrior bellowed out blasphemies. His voice could be heard loud and strong. David saw that he was a giant almost ten feet tall, with a shield-bearer before him.

“WHY HAVE YOU COWARDLY HEBREWS DRAWN UP FOR BATTLE?”

David was incensed. “Who is this uncircumcised Philistine that he taunts the armies of the living God?”

“Their champion, Goliath of Gath,” said Shammah.

Goliath continued his rant, “I DEFY THE RANKS OF ISRAEL THIS DAY! CHOOSE FOR YOURSELVES A CHAMPION TO FIGHT ME! IF HE WINS, THE PHILISTINES WILL BE YOUR SERVANTS. IF I WIN, YOU WILL BE OUR SERVANTS!”

Abinadab muttered, “He has taunted us these forty days with the same challenge.”

“Forty days?” said David. How had he failed to hear about it, he wondered. “Is there no one to stand up to this blasphemer?”

Shammah snickered, “Easy for you to say from the comfort of your palace luxury.”

Abinadab threw in, “The man who kills him, the king will laud with tax exemption and great riches.”

The next words that came from Abinadab struck David in the chest like an iron rod. “The king has even offered up the hand of one of his daughters to the soul who triumphs over this titan.”

All sounds seemed to suddenly go silent as the words sunk in. His brothers continued to speak, but their lips seemed to make no sound as David felt glorious hope rise within him. He knew at that moment that Yahweh had made a way for the impossible to become possible.

Abinadab said, “Are you listening to me?”

“Is that true?” asked David.

“Is what true?” complained Shammah.

“What you said about the king offering his daughter in marriage?”

Abinadab scolded him, “I told you it was part of the royal decree.”

David’s mind raced. He would do anything to win Michal’s hand. Anything. This champion was huge, but he was also loaded down with clumsy armor. David thought he would be no different than a big stupid bear, like the ones he had easily outwitted protecting his flock. Sure, he could not face the giant’s strength, but he didn’t have to. He could outmaneuver him, dance around him and make him tired. Keep his distance and keep pelting him with stones from his sling.

He remembered that his last use of the sling almost got him killed due to a terribly aimed shot at a lion. He would need Yahweh’s favor if he would face this behemoth. But is that not what Yahweh required? What god did they serve if he could not vanquish such giants as Joshua and Caleb did? What kind of army of Yahweh had not one warrior worthy of challenging this Philistine ogre? Saul himself, with his size and skill as warrior king, would be capable of besting the brute. David believed with all his heart that these uncircumcised idolaters could not take away Yahweh’s Promised Land. He had been practicing his heart out for the time when he would be of age, so that he could join the army of the Living God. He saw this as his chance to trust in the delivering hand of Yahweh.

“Take me to the king.”

But when he turned, his way was blocked by a fuming Eliab.

“Why have you come down, little brother?”

His look was accusing. David said innocently, “To bring you provisions.”

“I know your presumptuous, evil, little heart. You came down to watch the bloodshed, you spoiled baby.”

David gave a hard stare at his older brother. He had never done so before, but he had had enough.

“Eliab, you have been a spoiled first-born all your life. You have sought recognition and the praise of man’s lips instead of Yahweh’s. This is not the time for petty sibling rivalry. Get out of my way. I am going to the king.”

Eliab’s eyes went wide with shock. David’s words pierced him like never before. They carried an authority that exposed Eliab’s longtime envy of David’s anointing. Bitterness had built up in his heart because he could not see why Yahweh chose the youngest of the family instead of the eldest. It was a common tactic of Yahweh’s election, from Abel to Isaac to Jacob to Joseph and more. Yahweh always seemed to choose the one least likely for choosing.

Eliab stepped back out of his little brother’s way.

              • • • • •

Across the way from the Israelites, the Philistine soldiers laughed and jeered at their cowardly enemies. The five other Sons of Rapha gathered around Lord Achish and Lady Bisha as they looked down upon their lone champion standing unopposed in the valley.

Ishbi said, “My lord, how long will Goliath continue this wasted exercise?”

“For as long as it takes,” said Achish. “The longer it goes on the more demoralized their forces become. We may win this war without a drop of blood.”

Ishbi said, “But at some point, we begin to look like a crowing cock if we do nothing but boast. A swift, vigorous assault will surprise them and crush them with finality.”

Bisha leaned over to whisper to Achish. He pretended to consider his options, then said in full accord with her counsel, “When they finally send their champion and he is defeated, then we will exterminate them.”

Ishbi knew Bisha pulled Achish’s strings. He didn’t need the spirit voices in his head to tell him so. She was the ruthless politico behind the fat lord’s ambitions. The rules of champion combat were that the loser’s army would voluntarily lay down their arms and be brought back in chains, not slaughtered mercilessly. This bitch queen might yet be the downfall of Gath.

              • • • • •

Saul sat brooding in his war tent when a servant announced the arrival of his personal musician.

The unseen spirit shadow beside Saul whispered furiously in his ear. The presence of this upstart shepherd always unsettled it. Saul became more agitated.

“David,” said Saul, “why are you here? This is neither the time nor place for music.”

David bowed and said, “Your servant has not come to play music, my lord.”

Saul spouted impatiently, “Well, what in Sheol are you here for then? Speak up.”

“I will fight the uncircumcised Philistine.”

A moment of shock hit Saul, and then he burst out in laughter. The unseen and unheard spirit beside Saul cackled with laughter as well. Their voices became one in unison. For a moment, David felt certain he had heard another voice in the tent. He felt the presence, but could not place it.

“You are not able to fight this Philistine.” Saul could not stop his chuckling. “You are but a youth. He has been a man of war from his youth.”

David said, “As a shepherd for my father, I have killed lumbering bears like him while protecting the flock. Not long ago, a lion took a lamb from my care. I caught him by his mane and struck him down.”

David decided not to admit his terrible aim with the slingshot. He had killed the lion after all. That was what mattered.

Saul could not stop laughing.

David persisted. “Yahweh delivered me from the paw of the bear and the lion. He will deliver me from the hand of this overgrown brute, this uncircumcised Philistine.”

Nimrod would not stop whispering. He had been waiting for an opportunity like this for too long, a way to rid himself of this precocious little godlicker that was spoiling his attempt at complete control of Saul.

Saul stopped laughing. Then, as if he were listening to some unseen person, he finally said with a chuckling smile, “Go! And may Yahweh be with you!”

If Saul had been in his right mind, he would never have entrusted the nation into the hands of this unproven shepherd musician.
If
he had been in his right mind.

David bowed and prepared to leave.

Saul barked out. “Wait! You will need armor. Nothing but the royal best for my champion.” He snickered and gestured over to his own suit of armor on a six and a half foot tall mannequin.

David could see himself weighed down with the helmet of bronze too big for his head, the chain mail too heavy for his smaller torso and the sword too large for his grip. But he knew Saul was being facetious. He knew it was still a joke to him.

David said, “Uh, I have not tested your armor, my king. I have another idea.”

              • • • • •

Goliath was annoyed with the slowness of these desert rats. The Israelites had announced their challenger, but had kept him waiting, which made him even angrier. The sun rose high. His armor grew hot. He was sweating inside, and itching. He scratched his crotch and kept his eyes peeled for the fool who would die on his javelin. He decided that after he killed the warrior, he would sexually penetrate the corpse’s skull in front of the entire army.

As the Champion of Philistia, Goliath was free to dress his armor any way he preferred. This was the case for all the Sons of Rapha, none of whose origins were with the original Sea Peoples, but with Canaan.

Rather than wearing the well known feathered headdress of the Philistines, Goliath wore a bronze helmet more akin to Greek or Assyrian protection. He wore one hundred and twenty-six pounds of Egyptian-styled chain mail on his monstrous nine and a half foot frame. His bronze greaves that protected his shins were Greek, and his shield bearer carried a full-bodied shield before him rather than the smaller round Philistine style.

Goliath’s huge scimitar, not as popular with the regulars, was slung over his back. He planned on first using his loop javelin to skewer his victim with a sixteen pound iron spearhead, or pierce his prey with a mighty launch as it ran away.

Goliath was ready for a killing.

Finally, he saw an opponent approaching him by the stream that flowed through the valley. Finally. Over forty days for these pathetic Hebrews to muster up the courage to face him.

Word spread through the Philistine ranks. Attention was piqued. Soldiers stopped their dice playing and woke from their naps when they heard the news: a challenger approached.

Lord Achish stood up and squinted to see better in the glare of the sunny day. He said, “Finally, a champion fool for my Goliath to finish off.” Lady Bisha’s stomach quivered with excitement. She hoped for a gory bloodbath.

But as the challenger came closer it became apparent, he was not what Achish had expected. He was not what anyone had expected. Lord Achish muttered, “Is this a jest? They mock me?”

The challenger looked like a young boy. Because his eyesight was not as sharp as in his youth, Goliath could not tell for sure until the lad had reached to within fifty or so feet of him.

He was puny. And he wore no armor. He was clad as a shepherd without his cloak. He had a shepherd’s staff and sling in his hand. He looked like a teenager. In fact, he was quite handsome and Goliath thought it would be a pleasure to sexually violate this stripling. But he was insulted by the challenge. He boiled with rage.

He screamed out to his enemies on the hillside, “AM I A DOG THAT YOU COME TO ME WITH STICKS? I CURSE YOU BY DAGON, BA’ALZEBUL, MOLECH AND ASHERAH! YOU FILTHY HEBREW COWARDS!”

Goliath turned to David and said, “Come to me, boy. I will give your flesh to the vultures and jackals. After I have my way with you!”

David shouted to him, “You come with scimitar and javelin, but I come in the name of Yahweh of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have blasphemed! This day Yahweh will deliver you into my hand and I will smite you and cut off your head!”

Goliath laughed with incredulity.
And it is a puny pontificating pipsqueak no less. I wonder if the little rat is going to keep on talking.

He did. “I will give
your
body to the vultures and jackals, and all the earth will know that there is a god in Israel whose name is Yahweh Elohim! And this assembly will know that Yahweh saves not with sword or spear! For the battle is Yahweh’s and he will give you into our hands!”

Goliath muttered, “Sanctimonious little twat.”