David Ascendant (Chronicles of the Nephilim Book 7) (18 page)

The town of Ramah lay three miles north of Saul’s city of Gibeah. The town housed a few hundred inhabitants, most of whom gave agricultural and service support for Samuel’s school of prophets that resided there. With a population of fifty students, the school the Seer had set up trained select men in the calling of prophet. If a man felt he had the calling upon him, he would be interviewed by the Seer for sincerity and integrity. If accepted into the school, he was then educated in the Torah and Wisdom literature of Israel and surrounding nations.

Prophecy was not merely foretelling of the future by revelation from Yahweh. It was mostly forth-telling of truth, be it directly from Yahweh’s revelation or from the learned precepts of their sacred texts. Prophets would spend long hours in the spiritual exercises of religious devotion and scribal disciplines of learned education to become messengers of Yahweh. Hearing from their god involved both supernatural and natural pursuits to be both holy and wise. Part of that education included the playing of musical instruments that would accompany ecstatic trances and dances.

David chose to hide out in Ramah to gain protection from Yahweh’s Seer as well as some words from the Most High. More importantly, Samuel was the one who had anointed David for this most dangerous calling upon his life.

Samuel had not seen Saul in the many years since he cursed the king. Saul feared approaching Samuel since Yahweh stopped talking to him, and he had been taken over by the evil spirit.

While David hid out at the school, he let his beard grow out so that he could blend in with the rustic locals. A young student of seventeen named Nathan pestered Samuel to let him accompany David when he left. He claimed Yahweh came to him in a dream and told him to do so. Dreams and visions were part of being a prophet, and Samuel knew Nathan to be of honest disposition, so he approved. David saw in the youth a passion he had himself as a young shepherd musician in the fields, wanting to get out and see the world. He also thought it would be good to have one of Yahweh’s mouthpieces with him, should Yahweh want to speak to him, since the Lord hadn’t done so since David came to the school.

David did not want to end up like Saul, seething in Yahweh’s silence. He wanted to hear Yahweh’s voice and follow his commands. He longed for Yahweh’s word of guidance as a deer thirsted for water. There was no better way to have that guidance than to have one of his prophets with him.

David left Ramah with Nathan, and made his way toward Nob, eight miles south. But on the way, he stopped for a secret meeting in the fields outside Jerusalem.

“My brother,” said Jonathan. “I feared I would not see you again. Who travels with you?”

“This is Nathan. He is a student of the school of prophets.”

Nathan bowed to Jonathan, the king’s son. “Actually, my lord, I am considered a full fledged prophet. The Seer gave his blessing.”

Jonathan smiled. “He is already correcting you. I see that as a good sign.”

Nathan smiled and moved a few yards away, on the look out for anyone that might approach them.

Jonathan grabbed David’s shoulders.

David hesitated. He did not know who he could trust anymore. This man was his closest friend, had taken him in and apprenticed him. Jonathan had given David his own royal cloak and ring as a vow of surrendering his kingdom, and yet David still had trouble believing such purity of faith and character was truly possible in this world of blood and iron. David certainly did not have it. Was it even possible?

Jonathan could see the doubt in David’s eyes. He said, “Yahweh the Elohim of Israel is our witness. I love you as my own soul. When you come into your kingdom, pray do not cut off your steadfast love from my house forever. May Yahweh take vengeance on David’s enemies.”

David’s knees went weak. He started to collapse, but Jonathan caught him and they sat on the ground. A wave of relief had come over David, and all the fear that had propped him up and kept him from sleeping had melted away. He knew Jonathan was without guile and was true.

For the first time in years, David broke down. “Jonathan, what have I done? What is my guilt? What is my sin before your father, that he seeks my life? You have covenanted with me before Yahweh. If there is guilt in me, kill me yourself, for I am ready to die.”

“You harbor no guilt,” said Jonathan. “Pride, quick temper, and a weakness for women. But by my very head, no guilt before the throne.”

David’s tears turned to laughter. “I can see you still suffer from the sin of envying my passion.”

David grabbed Jonathan’s wrists and the two of them kissed each other’s cheeks, the custom of covenantal renewal.

Jonathan was still smiling with amusement. “I heard about my father’s attempt to abduct you at Ramah. Of course, I had to hear of it through the servant’s gossip. It pays to hide out with Yahweh’s prophets.”

David chuckled. “Three times. He sent forces three times. And three times Yahweh’s spirit fell upon the soldiers. They prophesied like they were students of Samuel. You should have seen the sight. I could not contain myself. I would have expected fire from heaven or a slaughtering by the Angel of Yahweh. But no, instead he turned murderous soldiers with swords into confused prophets singing the praises of Yahweh with tambourines.”

Jonathan said, “Yahweh has a sense of humor.”

David added, “But then your father came, and Yahweh’s spirit came upon him as well.” David burst out laughing again. “He stripped off his clothes and lay naked all day and night uttering prophecies in foreign tongues. If I stayed any longer, Yahweh would have Philistine giants dancing and singing his praises.”

David suddenly noticed that Jonathan no longer joined in the mirth. His face was sullen. David quieted.

“Father has gotten worse. His fits have increased, and it seems he is less and less in control of his faculties. Without your music, the evil spirit in him has become stronger. He has pledged to spend all his time and money hunting you down. And he will do anything to hurt you. He gave Michal in marriage to another man, Palti ben Laish.”

David’s face dropped. He thought his beloved Michal would be safe from her own father’s hatred of him. Now he knew she was not. For Saul to give her to another man was worse to David than all the attempts of the king to murder him. Michal was his first love, the wife of his youth. Now they were ripped from each other and their love raped by the very one against whom David would not get revenge,
could not
get revenge. Saul was the anointed king, and David had sworn that he would never usurp the holy ruler of Yahweh’s own people. To do so would be to usurp Yahweh himself.

Jonathan said, “He is cutting off your connection to the royal family in order to invalidate any possibility of your claim to the throne.”

Saul was not merely fighting David. He was fighting Yahweh, trying to thwart the very plans of the mighty god of Israel. It was such gall, and it made Saul even smaller in his eyes. But it was still a dagger to the heart of David. His precious, powerless Michal had been made a victim of Saul’s destructive rage.

“Do not see me again, David. Stay far away from Gibeah. Hide out in the wilderness until my father is dead. For he will not stop until
you
are dead.”

David grabbed Jonathan’s wrists and they embraced again.

David then said, “Tell the bodyguard who are loyal to me I will be hiding out at the cave of Adullam.”

“Can you trust them?”

“My cousins, Joab and Abishai. I trust them with my life. They know others. They will spread the word.”

Another long look between the two of them carried the question whether they would see each other again.

“You go there now?”

“No. First I have to go to Nob. I have something I want to get.”

Samuel had gone out into the desert with a handful of his students for prayer and fasting. Forty-five of the others remained at the school, performing duties and chores. It was a typically quiet day in Ramah as the students sat down for lunch in the dining hall of Naioth. With Samuel gone, the prefect in charge was Jacob, a swarthy, heavy young man with a sense of humor that he kept hidden from Samuel. Samuel would never have left him in charge, had he known Jacob would instigate the present food-fight that had begun among the students. It started when someone made a crack about how the porridge tasted like mud. Jacob then said that he would test it to see if it was truly mud. He threw a glob of it against the wall of the mud-brick dining room. When it stuck, someone yelled and everything got out of hand. Porridge flew around the room, hitting faces and robes. Laughing and playful screams filled the hall to such an extent that they did not hear the screams outside in the streets.

Jacob had backed up against the door of the dining hall with a large pile of porridge in his hand. He was about to throw it, when the door behind him slammed open with a fury. It threw Jacob to the ground, crushing him under the force.

A gasp of silence and terror swept over the room.

The doorway exploded into a huge opening beneath the soles of a nine foot tall, six hundred and fifty pound giant: Ishbi ben Ob. He widened the door for easier access, but he still had to crouch a bit to get inside.

Some of the prophets yelped and sought to flee through the back door. Their bodies were cut in half by the two swords of Saph, who stood just outside. He kicked in that doorway for his entrance. The remainder of the forty-five prophets cowered in fear, caught between the two Rephaim giants.

The prophets could see several dark spirits surrounding Ishbi, moving like wisps of agitated smoke.

Ishbi crowed, “I have it on good word from the goddess Asherah that David ben Jesse is hiding out at this school. Now, which one of you is going to prophesy and tell me where he is?”

No one spoke. Several pissed in their tunics. One began to cry in fright. But no one spoke.

Saph swiped his sword and cut two more student prophets in half. The head of a third one rolled to the floor by the body of Jacob crushed beneath the door.

Ishbi used a mace to crush another prophet to the floor. He sent a fifth one flying into the wall, smashed like a fly with a swatter. Ishbi’s familiar spirits became increasingly frenzied with his anger.

A supernatural howling pierced the ears of the prophets. They drew in together tighter and began to pray to Yahweh for protection. One of them was bold enough to yell out, “Yahweh, deliver us!”

Ishbi looked up to the heavens. The prophets followed his gaze.

Nothing happened. Ishbi’s spirits became like a whirlwind around him.

Ishbi crowed, “Perhaps he is hiding out with your chosen one.”

Saph bellowed, “Which one of you will tell us where?”

Saph used one of his swords to impale three more students. They squirmed, dying like skewered prey.

“I believe I have a meat stick,” said Saph to Ishbi. “Should we roast them or just eat them alive?”

Ishbi crushed two more students. The remaining prophets clung to one another in their tight circle.

“I have a better idea,” said Ishbi. “I will skin them alive one by one, until someone tells us what we want to know.” He grabbed one unfortunate student. “You Hebrews are so fond of cutting the skins off your dicks. Just consider this a full body circumcision.”

Saph laughed with a hearty jocularity.

Ishbi placed the blade of his dagger to the skin of his victim’s leg and made a slicing incision. The poor young man yelled out in pain. But it was nothing compared to his screaming when Ishbi began to peel off the skin of his leg, followed by his arms and torso.

The students were terrorized by the fate that awaited them all.

There were thirty-four of them to go.

David stood outside the sanctuary in Nob with Nathan, waiting for the high priest Ahimelech to meet with him. Nob was just eight miles south of Ramah, three and a half miles from Saul’s Gibeah in between, and two miles east of Jerusalem. After the Philistines had stolen the ark, and destroyed Shiloh and its tabernacle, the surviving priests had migrated to Nob and established a new sanctuary and priesthood. Because it was within the territory of Jerusalem, it was protected from Philistine attacks by the Jebusite king.

A servant led David inside. Nathan stayed outside, on the lookout. The new sanctuary was actually a Canaanite temple of Ba’al that had been commandeered and repurposed for Israelite worship. The Hebrew tabernacle had been based upon the same Canaanite design, so the building worked well for their intent. Two pillars guarded the entrance to the stone temple, leading into an outer court of waiting, that was sectioned off from a curtained Holy of Holies. The priests were currently baking their holy Bread of the Presence that was placed before Yahweh daily.

David could smell the bread. It reminded him of how hungry he was. He stood in the outer courtyard where several locals knelt in private prayer. It was an honor for Israelites to have the sanctuary in their home town or local territory, so they used the special privilege at every opportunity they could. David even recognized one of them as Doeg, the Edomite herdsman of Saul. David knew shepherds were always out in the fields for so much of their time that they had very little involvement or understanding of court politics. It appeared that Doeg did not know that Saul sought David, since he registered no surprise at David’s presence. So he left him alone.

David pleaded with Ahimelech, out of earshot of the locals. Ahimelech’s son, the young priest Abiathar, shadowed him.

“No, David,” said Ahimelech. “I am afraid that I cannot provide you with the ephod. It is the means of Yahweh’s communication with the priesthood.”

“That is why I need it,” said David. He corrected himself, “I need it for the king. He has sent me on a secret mission and you must not speak of this to anyone.” David was glad he had left Nathan outside, because the young prophet would not go for this deception and would most likely call David out on it.

Ahimelech protested, “Saul has not darkened the doors of this sanctuary for years. It is said that Yahweh has left him and he seeks guidance from an evil spirit. Why would he want to hear from Yahweh now?”

David became agitated. “You dare not question the king.”

“I dare not disobey Yahweh.”

David could not argue with that. He already wondered if Yahweh would strike him dead soon.

“Why are you alone?” Ahimelech asked.

“My men wait for me in the wilderness,” lied David. “Do you have any weapons you can spare the king’s bodyguard? In my haste to obey the king, I failed to retain any for the trip.”

Ahimelech looked at David skeptically. He would need to do better with his lies if he was to convince this old man.

“Now there I can help you. Wait here.”

Abiathar stayed with David as Ahimelech walked into the sanctuary. David could spy the ephod hanging on a “T” shaped wooden structure.

Abiathar looked uncomfortable. David knew the young man could not stop him from entering the holy place. David considered taking the ephod by force. No one could stop him after all. Would his audacity stretch that far?

David knew that in one of the pockets of the white linen ephod were the sacred lots used to garner the guidance of Yahweh. They did not produce the lights and perfections of the Urim and Thummim, but the priests could still use the white and black elements to discern simple yes or no questions. David longed for the clarity of guidance from the word of Yahweh.

They saw Ahimelech pull out a large sword wrapped in cloth from behind the ephod. It was very large. Too large. He brought it back to David and handed it to him.

David held the heavy weapon and unwrapped it with a holy awe as Ahimelech spoke. “It is the sword of the Philistine you killed in the valley of the Terebinth.”

David used his two hands to hold it up before him. He could never use the thing in battle. It was too large and weighty for a normal warrior’s strength. But it was a powerful symbol. And it gave him faith again just to hold it. Memories of that fateful day flooded his thoughts. The hot, bright valley. The insolent reprobate Philistine and his vile boasting in the face of Yahweh. The cowardice of the Israelites. His own childlike naiveté that made him step out in trust to do the impossible. Things were so much clearer back then. So much simpler. Now he was on the run, cowering in fear for his life like the Israelites and using deception to cloud his intent.

But this was different. The Philistine was unholy. The king of Israel was holy. David would not touch Yahweh’s anointed. Shame filled him. He dropped to his knees with tears in his eyes. He would take the Philistine’s sword, but he would not take the holy ephod of Yahweh’s priests.

Ahimelech placed an understanding hand on David’s shoulder. “You must be hungry, my son. Come, let me give you some of the Bread of the Presence to bring back to your men. It is time to replace it with a new batch anyway, and we priests have plenty.”

“Thank you,” whispered David.

Ahimelech added, “I only ask that your men keep themselves from women.”

David looked up at him with resolve. “This is a holy mission. My men are clean.”

“Then come, take some food and rest for yourself, and for your prophet, before you journey onward.”