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Authors: Cliff Graham

BOOK: Day of War
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“We’re fulfilling the command to destroy them that Yahweh gave Saul many years ago. But it also works out well for David—he will give his own men control of the borderlands so that they have even more reason to fight for him. They don’t want their own crops burned by Amalekites.”

“So your god is a god of war, then? Total destruction of your enemies?” Keth asked.

“Yahweh is not close to me. I would not know.”

Keth nodded. Benaiah was grateful that he let it be.

“I have known many great war leaders. Most only want more gold and property. How is David different?” Keth asked.

“He is not a man of peace. He wants to be, but he once said that Yahweh has not willed that for him. Our lands are torn apart. Many
suffer, not only from outside threats but from the constant squabbling and bickering between our own tribes. Men die over who owns a quarter of a hillside. Our people need David. He is ruthless enough to stop our enemies, and compassionate enough to judge our people fairly.”

“You seem to admire him greatly.”

“He always puts his men first, genuine destiny pushes him forward …” Benaiah paused. “And he took us in when we had nowhere else to go.”

The two of them watched the frantic activity of men in a foul mood and awake against their will. The tent was becoming increasingly crowded.

Then the tent immediately went quiet. Benaiah turned toward the map where the leaders were arguing and noticed another man among them.

David had entered.

The most remarkable aspect about him, after all the legends had been told, was how young he still was. Some of the men present probably had sons his age. Benaiah himself was older than David, but he felt young when David was around.

David’s beard was lighter than any other man’s beard in the tent, and cropped short for the campaign season, like his troops’. His auburn hair was trimmed short as well. The hair made him stand out. Every man present but David had black hair. His clothing was a simple gray cloak and battle tunic.

His arms, strengthened by years of battles fought long before most boys were old enough to swing a hammer, rippled with hard muscle. Yet he was of average height and did not immediately stand out from other men in the crowd, unlike his tall king. His face was marked by old scars, but he had striking features, much more so than any other man present. Amber-colored eyes looked across the room.

He could play the lyre. He could sing melodies so achingly beautiful that even the hardest warriors would pause and listen. His compassion to the wounded had earned him renown. He prayed loudly and passionately into the night. But there was something in his face during times of battle, such as this, that reminded Benaiah of death. Violence and death. A good face for a warlord, he thought.

The room was still in the presence of the chief. He had that effect, as most men of authority did. There was something about the confident manner with which he carried himself, and the assurance that he knew exactly what he was doing at all times. That no matter what befell them, he would find victory.

And part of it was his amber eyes. The eyes so similar to a lion’s, giving him the title that all around the countryside knew him by — the Lion of Judah. It was a look of power, primal and fierce. He had a lion’s face.

The outlaw commander elbowed his way to where Joab and the other leaders of his army were standing. He nodded greetings, caught Benaiah’s eye, and nodded to him as well. He ran fingers through his beard a moment. They all waited as the wind pounded the tent.

“My gratitude for your perseverance, brothers. I know you have been without information for some time. King Achish has told me that we are not welcome among the other Philistine rulers.”

This was greeted by cheers. David smiled in spite of himself. “As that is so, we will not go to war with them. We will return to Ziklag.” Half of the tent erupted in cheers, the other was silent. Several cursed aloud. Someone shouted over the sound.

“But sir, why bring us all this way? Why won’t they let us come?”

“They don’t think we will be loyal. I couldn’t convince them otherwise. They saw how many of us were riding out to war, and they became afraid. With good reason.” He nodded at the gathered men. “I would be afraid of you as well.”

The soldier was not satisfied. “Then can we do a flank march around the valley and come up on the Israelites from behind? They would be glad to see us. Saul would realize that he needs your help.” This caused voices to rise up again.

Josheb said, “If we flank march against the Philistines, then we jeopardize our homes in Ziklag. Surely they will send this same army against us in the south. Saul has written the fate of his kingdom in his own blood. I like us returning home better.”

Joab glared at him and then at David. “If we go now, we can strike fast. Yahweh will grant it to you.”

Keth leaned in next to Benaiah. “He lets his commanders argue in front of the men?”

“David wants the men to feel like they have a part in their fate. You will notice,” Benaiah nodded toward them, “clean and well-behaved hardly describes our little band. It works for now.”

Keth tilted his head. “He trusts them that much?”

“Some of them he would trust with his life. Some he would spear if they looked at him wrong. He loves them all, but he is a hard man. The only one who could lead them.”

Keth looked back to the front of the tent, measuring this. No sense in hiding it from him, Benaiah thought. He needed to learn their ways if he was to have a home among them.

Joab kept repeating that Yahweh would give the victory. It must have irritated David, who raised his voice in anger.

“Have you asked him, Joab? Did he visit you in your tent this morning and tell you that?”

Joab’s face fell a little. “No, but surely we would win. We have never lost.”

The multiple voices clamoring in the tent had gone quiet.

“I see no priestly garments on you. There is no ephod on your belt. You presume to speak for Yahweh? You speak his name aloud so lightly?”

Joab changed his approach. “But lord, if we just up and leave, what will we do when we return home? Continue raiding barbarian settlements?”

There was some murmuring, but David made no reply. It was his signal that debate could resume. Josheb was about to say something else when Benaiah, deciding the time had come, spoke up. “Lord, I returned from Judah last night. Amalekites might be moving against us.”

David jerked his head up and found him. “Amalekites? How?”

“I fought a raiding party in that village you sent me to. They said they were moving into southern Judah and Philistia.” Benaiah had to shout over the commotion this news caused. “Perhaps as many as a thousand. Mercenaries might be with them.”

David nodded, concern darkening his face, and knelt to examine the sketch on the ground in front of him.

“Lord, that is impossible,” Joab said. “Amalek has been crushed under our feet. No large army could move in such short time.”

“I do not know if the larger force is real or not, but I know I fought a band of them. And as I said, they could have mercenaries with them.” Benaiah glared at Joab long enough to make his point, then looked back at David. “Lord, I agree with you. We need to leave. Now. Our women and children are defenseless in Ziklag. Even if it’s not a serious threat, we need to be sure.”

“I agree, Benaiah. If this Amalekite army exists, then we will meet it. That is all. Get your men. Move quickly.” He thumped his fist on the ground and left the way he came, the tent flap blowing wildly as he walked out into the wind. A noticeable uneasiness descended on the group with the news of Amalekites near their home. Benaiah motioned for Keth to follow him outside.

The army was ready. They walked past men sitting on their bundles of animal pelts and weapons and various other pieces of
equipment, waiting for any word from the commanders. Several of the men exiting the tent began to shout the orders, and the men formed up into ranks. Benaiah led Keth to his own tent and spoke to him as he cleared it of his things. The worn-out tent belonged to the Philistines, and he would not need to pack it. David’s men traveled light.

“I know that was strange for you to see,” Benaiah said. “Like I said, we function differently than most armies.”

Keth nodded. “I slept next to a man who was running from a bad land sale. Another was accused of killing a man over a woman. He did not deny it.”

“They probably won’t make good administrators in the royal palace one day, but if you want dead enemies they do just fine,” Benaiah said. He wrapped the last of his things in a wool blanket, covered it with an oiled and tanned hide to prevent water from leaking in, and tied it shut with leather straps.

They stepped back out into the raging wind of the early morning.

Keth asked, “His deputy, Joab? Is he a fighter?”

“He is a fighter. He’s also annoying.”

They walked for a while in silence. “Amalek moves, then. It is surprising,” said Keth as they walked back to the command tent.

Keth wrapped the wool cloak around his shoulders a little tighter. Benaiah decided that he liked Keth. He had a hard grip and steady eyes. And he probably was not a criminal—a relief among these men.

The two of them stopped at the command tent’s entrance and waited.

“Are there no horses for David and his commanders?” Keth asked.

“No. He moves like his men. Eats after they eat. Sleeps after they sleep. The terrain in our lands makes chariots and horses
worthless for war. He rides horses only when he needs to cover ground quickly. He wants the men to have ‘feet of iron.’”

“He rode on a horse while marching with the Philistines to this place,” Keth said.

“Maintaining appearances. He wanted the Philistines to think he will fight as they do.” The wind stung his eyes, and he blinked away grit.

David walked out of the command tent, his equipment neatly packed and rolled. He watched the movements of his men with a slight scowl and did not notice Benaiah and Keth nearby. Benaiah recognized the look and decided to leave him be. Joab was nowhere to be seen, probably sent off on some errand so that David could enjoy a moment alone. Benaiah did not envy David what must be a lonely life.

It made him wonder about the odd relationship between Joab and David. Benaiah suspected that David was pressured by his tribe to tolerate him. But Joab was a fighter, he conceded. He could move men.

David noticed them and smiled warmly. He walked over and embraced Benaiah, who did his best to hide his stiff wounds.

“I missed you, brother,” David said quietly. Benaiah could not hide his smile. He knew that David meant it.

Keth stood with his hands clasped behind his back politely. David turned to him. “Hittite, as I said before, we are honored you are here. Yahweh has shown us mercy by blessing us with your presence. Did you find your other countrymen?”

“I did, lord.”

“Tribal men are usually mixed into the companies to avoid playing favorites on the battlefield. Most are from Judah, our largest tribe, but there are equally valiant fighters from the smaller territories. I try to remind them often that while they serve me, tribal
identity does not matter. I want you to be my chief armorer and train an entire company in the craft, if you will accept the position. We will fight no more wars with bronze weapons. I am tired of blades that bend when they strike shields.”

David paused a moment, distracted by the way a soldier was packing his gear. “Elon, you’ll never last the day on the march if you wear it like that. Your load has no balance. If you don’t fix it, I’ll be forced to give your crippled carcass to the Philistines. You’ll be no use to me, but you might be their best man.”

Several hundred men had gathered in formation nearby. Those closest, who had heard him, laughed.

He turned back to Benaiah. “That business with the lion. I trust it ended happily for all involved.”

“It did. Took a little of me with it, but I was able to sort it out. Nothing like you in the old days, though.” David smiled at the reference to his shepherding years. Benaiah continued. “More important was the band of ten I found. The wounded man could have been lying about a larger force, but it didn’t feel like he was. Also, Saul has conscripted most of the men. I saw only a few in that town. Mostly old or lame.”

David looked at the ground and nudged a rock with his sandal. They watched while the army finished its preparations. Benaiah could see the mass of men, divided into rows of twenty and columns of fifty. They were cold, stamping their feet and jumping up and down, occasionally grumbling and complaining. Some did their best to keep the laughter going. Others stared quietly and waited for the orders to march back to their homes. The rumors had already begun to fly down the ranks that their families might be in danger.

“I want to reassign you, Benaiah.”

“To a company?”

“No. You will still function mostly alone, but yes, there will be
men with you. I need you to organize a personal guard for me.” David continued pawing at the rock on the ground with his sandal. “I don’t like it, but it is necessary for command and control. I will still lead assaults, but once they have begun, I need to see what is happening on the field. I can’t command my army when I am forced to fight through the entire battle.”

It was clear that David hated saying it, Benaiah noticed. It was against everything in him.

“We will still be in the middle of it. I just don’t want to be making command decisions while being impaled on a lance. Our little band has grown too large.”

Benaiah tried to soften the blow. “You honor me. Can I pick who will be in it?”

“Of course.”

“Then I would have foreigners. No men of the tribes.” David and Keth turned toward him.

“Foreigners,” David repeated. He nodded, looked out at the men, then nodded again. “Interesting. As you wish. Have them for me before we return to Ziklag. It really is good to see you again, Benaiah.”

Benaiah saw weariness and stress in the amber eyes. David nodded and walked off to inspect the companies.

“Good thinking on the foreigners,” Keth said.

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