David Ascendant (Chronicles of the Nephilim Book 7) (21 page)

Benaiah received a concussion from the force of hitting the tree. He heard the sound of a large creature rushing at him from the forest.

And it wasn’t an Ariel.

A rushing dark shape resolved itself into a giant Rephaim. The dark-skinned Egyptian carried another javelin, ready to impale him.

Just before the giant reached him, two Lion Men jumped out from both sides and intercepted the large attacker. They took him down into the brush in a flurry of fangs and claws.

Benaiah’s head was splitting with pain. He was seeing double, but he was not about to let that stop him. He stood up, faltering a bit, but prepared to engage.

Another giant came out of the trees at Benaiah’s right. But the four Lion Men jumped him and fought him off. It took all four of them. This monster seemed to have a supernatural presence surrounding him, a bodyguard of demons.

Benaiah’s headache jarred his whole body. He dropped to one knee, trying to recover from dizziness. He looked up. A third giant swooped toward him with two large scimitars about to chop him in half.

A hand yanked him back, out of the way before the blades could connect.

It was Sibbecai, the swordsman.

Sibbecai drew his own two swords. He smiled at the irony of facing an opponent with the same armament of double blades. Unfortunately, this opponent was more than his equal. Sibbecai looked up at a nine foot tall, eight hundred pound pile of bulk and brawn.

The giant rumbled, “You are no match for a Son of Rapha,” and released a series of attacks with his two blades. Sibbecai was ready for it. He countered with blocks and parries that frustrated the giant and made him sloppy with rage.

The rage distracted him from Benaiah, who had regained some of his strength and slipped behind the giant. The Israelite had pulled the javelin from his shield. He used it to pierce the Rapha’s kidney.

The giant screamed out in pain.

Sibbecai saw his opportunity and thrust both his swords into the giant’s sternum and up into his heart.

The giant swung one of his blades and cut off Sibbecai’s head.

Benaiah screamed his comrade’s name in horror.

The Rapha fell to the ground with a gasp.

The other two giants heard the yelp and saw their comrade fall. They knew they would be surrounded in moments by an army of gibborim, so they stopped their battle and fled into the woods, with the Lion Men chasing them.

Benaiah knew he only had a few moments. He grabbed the giant and growled at him, “Who are the Sons of Rapha?”

The giant grunted in pain and glared at Benaiah with a smirk.

Benaiah demanded again, “Who are the Sons of Rapha?”

He received no answer other than the last gasp of breath from the defiant Rapha as his life bled out onto the forest floor.

Benaiah whispered, “May you rot where the worm does not die and the fire is not quenched.” He spit on the giant’s corpse.

He looked over at Sibbecai’s body with deep pain. This warrior had saved his life, and now he was gone. It did not seem fair that so noble a man should die in so ignoble a way at the hand of a cursed seed. He placed the warrior’s head gently with the body in a macabre moment of orderliness.

A hand on Benaiah’s shoulder brought him back. Ezer the Chief Ariel loomed over him. A few of the Lion Men had already returned from chasing the giants. All of them put their hands on Benaiah’s shoulders and back in solidarity with their comrade.

No words were spoken. But there was a newfound brotherhood between them now. They had all saved Benaiah’s life, not just Sibbecai. He would not have been able to face all three of those giants alone.

They looked upon the dead Rapha. Ezer said, “It was a coordinated attack. They were trying to find a hole through our defenses.”

Benaiah said, “Were you not here, they would have.”

He looked up at his rescuers, and with a humbled voice, said, “Thank you. For saving my life.”

“Sibbecai saved you. We only helped,” said Ezer softly.

Benaiah had been a fool. He had just been rescued by the very ones he had trusted the least.

He was grateful to be alive.

Benaiah asked his two closest rescuers, “What are your names?”

They responded, “Elzabad,” and “Machbannai.”

Benaiah stood and sighed with relief before grasping wrists with the leonine men he had once distrusted so deeply. He faltered a bit. The splitting pain had not left his head.

They heard the sound of someone arriving from camp. Jonathan ben Shimei broke out of the bush, his bow at the ready with an arrow nocked. He saw Benaiah alive and well. He saw the Lion Men. He saw the dead Rapha. He looked around, realizing he had missed the fight. He stomped the ground. “I want to kill a giant
!”

Benaiah and the others ignored him. They always ignored the Mouse, as they had nicknamed him. Benaiah said to Ezer, “We must alert David. And we must find out who these Sons of Rapha are
.”

Ba’alzebul smashed his fist down onto the altar of Dagon. It cracked in half. Chunks and dust went flying. The gods had just learned that the Rephaim Saph had been killed by David’s warriors.

Ba’alzebul was angry and his strength was back. A mounting fear plagued Dagon that he could no longer control the mighty deity. Ba’alzebul had once ruled the pantheon. He had been humbled and now bore the name Son of Dagon, but he had regained his former strength. Dagon realized that it now simply remained for his rival to regain his power of place. Ba’alzebul could not just take an allotted territory, however. He had to earn it. Dagon had no idea how the other planned on doing so. He only assumed that Ba’alzebul
was
planning on doing so. Dagon would have to do something to keep his edge on the muscle-bound brute who thought of power but not of intrigue.

Intrigue was Asherah’s specialty. Dagon feared that the two of them were in league together and had designs on his throne. As long as he was chief god of the Philistines, he maintained his edge. If he could extend his power over the Hebrews, he would consolidate his territory and power over all of Canaan. He would have to act fast, if he wanted to stay ahead of this deadly duo. He had been planning this for some time and now was his chance.

Asherah said, “We are down to only four of our original Rephaim assassins. David’s forces are too large now. He has too many gibborim with him.”

“And Lion Men of Moab,” added Dagon. “The Sons of Rapha and their giant battalion will never penetrate that army. They are too mighty.”

Ba’alzebul interrupted their gloom. “Unless we take away David’s allotted protection.”

The others looked at him darkly. It was the last ditch option they had discussed in the past but had always avoided because of the danger involved.

Ba’alzebul explained, “We have been on the run all these generations from the archangels who seek to bind us in the earth. We hide like cockroaches in the dark. We are vulnerable when separated. But stronger when united.”

“You are right,” said Asherah. “It is time we turn the tables and try to capture the guardian prince of Israel, Mikael.”

Dagon countered. “But it has only been done once before, in primeval days when we were at our strongest. And that with the weakest of the archangels. Even then, it backfired on our predecessors. Look where they are now.”

He referred to the time before the Flood when Uriel had been captured by Inanna and Anu, the mightiest of their number. It did not last for long. Anu and Inanna had been bound beneath the earth.

Ba’alzebul said, “If for a limited time we could detain just that one guardian, just him alone, the Chosen Seed would not have the covering of heaven. Then our Sons of Rapha could strike, through stealth or war.”

Dagon concluded, “We will need all the help we can get. Molech, Chemosh, Resheph and Qeteb.”

“Of course,” replied Asherah.

Dagon gave a dark expectant stare at Asherah and added, “Leviathan?”

She was Lady Asherah of the Sea. One of her many skills over the waters was the ability to use magical incantations to call upon Leviathan, the seven-headed offspring of Rahab, the sea dragon of chaos. Leviathan was not tamable, but it could be partially directed through spells, especially when it had to do with destruction. She had once called up the serpent to wreak punishment upon her own city of Sidon for insolence of its governing authorities. Dozens of ships were destroyed and hundreds of lives lost in the furious storm of punishment.

The rulers never got out of line again.

Asherah replied to Dagon, “Be careful what forces of chaos you seek to call upon, Dagon. They may not behave to your liking.”

Ba’alzebul threw in, “There is one ally whose help we have all failed to appreciate fully.” They looked expectantly at him.

“Nimrod.”

“He is hardly more tamable than Leviathan,” said Dagon.

“But he is in a most advantageous position,” said Asherah. “His possession of the king of Israel is a dagger of division in the heart of Mikael’s defenses.”

She turned to the others with a smile. “My fellow deities, let us go catch ourselves an archangel.”

Guardian archangels are fond of staying in the background and out of sight in the temporal world, until they are needed to protect their ward. Unlike Uriel’s cocksure flamboyance, Mikael preferred quiet understatement. He was the prince of Israel, a most holy calling. It was all the more reason for him to downplay his presence. He did not want to draw attention where it was unwanted. The Canaanites and their gods were already in perpetual war with the Israelites, seeking to exterminate them all and drive them into the sea.

The Philistines were the strongest of these threats. But the most dangerous hazard was the most intimate one. Because the evil spirit of Nimrod had sunk his claws into Saul’s soul, Mikael had been distracted and stretched thin, following David in his months of fleeing from Saul’s pursuit. Mikael’s attention was divided between his watchfulness over the Chosen Seed David, and his chosen people Israel, led by a king trying to kill David.

David stayed constantly on the move, because he was not always welcomed where he sojourned as a fugitive from the king. Three thousand soldiers accompanied Saul, chasing David and his six hundred gibborim. David had run from the Forest of Hereth, to the city of Keilah, to the wildernesses of Ziph and Maon, where he currently hid. And all along, David sought to communicate to Saul that he was not an enemy of the king. It was all to no avail, as the king remained relentless in his mad hunt.

Then an event occurred that changed the course of everyone’s plans: a Philistine attack on Gibeah, the seat of Israel’s power. Just as Saul was closing in on David in the wilderness of Maon, the king received word of the approaching forces of all five cities of the Philistines upon Gibeah. He immediately left his manhunt to return to Gibeah and repel the enemy’s advance. David and his followers escaped capture. Their location became known as “the Rock of Escape.”

David settled in Maon for a time, knowing Saul would not be back too quickly from his latest campaign against the Philistines.

              • • • • •

Nabal the Calebite was one of the wealthiest landowners in Maon. He pastured his large flocks of thousands of sheep and goats in Carmel near Hebron. He would use his position of power on the local city councils to secure the best grazing land for his sheep to the detriment of others. When the time for shearing came, he used bribes to gain first place of sale over lesser shepherds. He purchased his own bodyguard from fear that others would seek revenge against his financial bullying. He had become a recluse and grew obese through indulgence.

His wife, Abigail, the most desired woman in the entire area, had a buxom and mature form. Her deep red hair enticed men, her ocean blue eyes melted them in their tracks. She was a loyal and virtuous woman as well. Unfortunately, in his paranoid megalomania, Nabal could not believe this. He restricted her to the mansion home of stone and wood he had built on his hilltop residence. He treated her like a dog.

One day, Nabal welcomed ten messengers from the camp of Israelite riff raff who had been sojourning in the area for some time. Nabal had used some spies to find out as much as he could about their leader, the rebel who was on the run from King Saul. Though Nabal detested the king as well, he did not consider these unsavory vagabonds as his allies. Yes, their presence had reduced the amount of criminal activity in the area, but he knew it was all pretense. He knew it was only a matter of time before they came looking for him to try to steal his wealth—just like all the others. That time had arrived. And it was on the eve of a feast day no less. How uncouth of them.

The ten messengers looked like warriors more than messengers, so Nabal surrounded himself with his bodyguard of twenty men to receive the visitors.

“Shalom be upon your house, Nabal of Maon,” said the lead messenger. “My name is Joab, and this is my brother Abishai. We serve our lord, David ben Jesse.” Abishai nodded respectfully, as did the nine others with them.

Nabal eyed them suspiciously. The leader named Joab had a nasty scar down his forehead and cheek that made him appear like a devious wolf.

Joab continued, “Our lord understands that you are shearing your sheep now in Carmel.”

Nabal replied with sarcasm, “I can readily see your lord takes such dedicated interest in my property. So important is it to him that he sends his warriors instead of messengers.”

“We are warriors, it is true,” said Joab. “But we come in peace. We have watched over your shepherds for these past weeks and have done them no harm. Indeed, we have protected them from hostile outsiders, so that not a sheep has been taken.”

Nabal knew exactly where this was going. He continued his sarcastic drawl, “What a privilege indeed is such peace. And what do I owe this son of Jesse for such unrequested protection?”

Joab said, “May my lord find favor in your eyes. For a feast day is upon us. He only asks whatever food and drink you may spare for your servants and your son, David.”

“My
son
, no less,” said Nabal. “And how many does this ‘son’ of mine employ in this protection business of his?”

“We are six hundred.”

Nabal’s countenance dropped. That was a lot of warriors. However, he had great trust in the two hundred mercenaries on his own payroll. They were mighty warriors as well, and they were itching for a chance to utilize the skills they had been trained and paid for. Besides, the mansion operated as a fortification, so it would not be a battlefield of one on one.

Joab could see Nabal’s agitation, so he added, “We are accompanied by several prophets of Yahweh and a high priest.”

Nabal thought,
So he thinks he can pretend to be less hostile and more holy, does he?
Nabal was not going to sit down and roll over for some young brigand’s attempted extortion propped up by religious justification. He was not going to just give over his hard earned wealth to a gang of thugs.

Nabal hardened his stance and crowed, “Who is this ‘son of Jesse’ that he should demand of me such things? I did not ask him to ‘protect’ my shepherds or my land. But I do have a bodyguard I have hired to protect
me
.”

Nabal’s guard drew closer to him in response.

Abishai shook his head at the subtle threat. He could kill all twenty of these hired scrappers himself.

Suddenly, a woman’s voice interrupted them all. “My lord, forgive my intrusion.”

All eyes turned toward the most stunning woman any of them had seen in years, maybe in entire lifetimes. She wore a humble, hooded cloak of modesty, but it could not hide her radiant beauty, her thick red hair and piercing blue eyes.

“Ahem, Abigail,” said Nabal, “should you not be cleaning out the sheep pen or some other duty?”

“Forgive me, my lord, but I have finished that chore and I came to tell you, when I overheard your conversation here.”

Abishai and Joab were mesmerized at her every word and movement. She was so beautiful
.

Abigail turned to Joab and Abishai, “Perhaps there is a third way out of this dilemma.”

The brothers perked up with curiosity.

Nabal turned sour with offense.

“Would your lord, David, be willing to return my husband’s kindness with a vow of chaste behavior and the blessing of a sacrifice by the high priest?”

Joab looked at Abishai who appeared to approve. But before he could respond, Nabal interrupted, “Please excuse my wife’s intrusion. She speaks out of line with impertinence.”

Joab glanced at Abigail, who dropped her head in shame.

Nabal continued, “Rather, ask your lord, ‘my son,’ if I should take the bread, water and meat out of the mouths of my servants who have earned it and give it to servants of those who have rebelled against their masters?”

Abishai shot a surprised look at Joab, wondering how he would respond. This disgusting, fat pig with an undeserved exemplary wife knew exactly who David was after all, and was now accusing him of insurrection.

Joab gritted his teeth. He knew this worm was not worthy of his wrath.

He said, “Very well, my distinguished host. I will relay your message to my lord. Though I suspect your wife’s wise offer would be more acceptable.”

He bowed. Nabal said, “My men will see you out to your horses.” Nabal’s twenty shadowed Joab and Abishai’s party to their exit.

When they were alone, Nabal walked up to Abigail. She shrank back. She knew how he was going to respond. He was predictable. She never got used to it, but she knew what he was going to do.

He reared back and punched her in the face with his fist. She fell to the floor. He would never bother to backhand her. That was too restrained. He wanted her to feel pain, not mere insult. His only grace was his unwillingness to use his ringed hand, for that would have ripped up her face and made her repugnant to have to look at every day.

Since he was too fat to lean down for another hit, he merely kicked her twice in the ribs. Her arm was enough to shield her ribs, preventing the force from breaking any bones. He only bruised them, along with raising a welt on her arm.

“How dare you treat me with such disrespect,” he hissed. “How many times do I have to tell you to keep your petty female mouth shut? Do I have to clamp it with a bit and bridle?”

Nabal had so frequently gotten himself in trouble with his greedy arrogance that Abigail often found herself saving his business or his life with her unique ability to soothe the offended parties with gracious diplomacy. The irony was that if she had kept her mouth shut, he would be dead by now, cut down by one of the many he had provoked with such impunity. Unfortunately, it also served to incite his self-loathing even more to be upstaged by the inferior sex.

“And another thing. What did you mean by demanding a vow of ‘chaste behavior?’ Were you mocking my impotence?”

“No, my lord,” she pleaded, “I merely meant to protect our maidservants and the women of the town. Outlaws can be debauched in their conduct.”

“Is that it? Are you turned on by their violence? You would like to be ravished by some strapping hard outlaw, wouldn’t you? Is that what you like?” He pulled out his leather belt.

“Is that what you like?!” he yelled, and lashed her with it.

“No, my lord,” she cried, trying unsuccessfully to protect her face from the stinging strap.

The sad irony was that Nabal’s impotence was the fruit of his own debauched living and obesity, while Abigail had remained chaste. They had not had sex in years. She had even rebuffed several attempts by her male servants to satisfy her sexual needs. She wanted to honor her vows before Yahweh.

He spewed, “And then that line about a sacrifice by the high priest! Your sanctimonious piety makes me want to puke. You are no more holy than any of the whores I have had. And I must say, they were far more desirable and satisfying than you ever were.”

After he had become impotent, she had to turn her eyes from his pursuits of depravity with prostitutes in search of stimulation. She hated herself. No matter how untrue his accusations, his words nevertheless pummeled her worse than his fists. She had been given in an arranged marriage to the rich Nabal by her father, who had become mired in debt. Unfortunately, it was a world where a carefully weighed shekel counted more than love’s amorous desire.

Her father’s debt was forgiven, but his betrayal of Abigail could not be. She sought to be an honorable wife in such a painfully unjust situation, but she could barely take it any more. The thought of taking her own life had recently become a comfort.

He heaved with puffed up anger. “Get out of my sight.”

They were the words she longed to hear. She got up and left his presence to dress her wounds.