David Ascendant (Chronicles of the Nephilim Book 7) (24 page)

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Authors: Brian Godawa

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Religious & Inspirational Fiction, #Biblical, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Nonfiction

BOOK: David Ascendant (Chronicles of the Nephilim Book 7)
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Chapter 52

David’s six hundred were a hearty lot. They were mighty gibborim warriors who fought hard and played harder. Many of them had been outlaws or rebellious men, so the combination of a wedding party with plenty of flowing wine and beer, carried the potential for getting out of control.

Up at Nabal’s hilltop residence, now Abigail’s, men sang songs, told battle stories, and competed in feats of strength with one another. Their rowdiness was held in check by some of the commanders of the Three and the Thirty who watched over the festivities like archangels.

Two of those watchers were Joab and Abishai, who refused to lose their wits or give in to their fleshly desires ever again, because of the secret guilt over their past betrayal. They remained sober and alert this evening, like a couple of sheep dogs.

Two drunken men began to brawl with weapons, so the brothers blindsided them both and knocked them into unconsciousness. They tied them up where they would awake the next morning to face their discipline.

Benaiah was not so guiltily disposed. He had had much to drink. But he did exercise restraint by stopping before he became too dizzy. He enjoyed the merriment that wine brought but was also determined to circumscribe that joy within the guidelines of Yahweh’s moral law. Yahweh’s good gifts were so easily abused to excess by the weakness that was humanity.

He scanned the crowd of drunken baboons, proud competitive peacocks and cawing crows. It seemed that fallen man so quickly degenerated into an animal in his behavior. Yet animals were not so foolish.

He saw a small group of men cheer loudly. They had just watched the Mouse, Jonathan ben Shimei, shoot his seventh arrow into a bulls eye the size of a sparrow. He really was an incredible marksman. But then Jonathan took his seventh drink and fell down to the ground, dead drunk, Benaiah smiled to himself. An incredible marksman who could hold his aim even when he could not hold his drink.

The Lion Men of Moab participated in the feast, eating their share of the meats and vegetables, but they seemed the only ones who did not drink. These half animals were the most disciplined of the entire regiment. Benaiah chuckled to himself at the irony. They had proven him the fool when they saved him from the Rephaim attack in the forest. He looked over them with respect, as he had come to know each of them by name.

Then something struck him. They weren’t all there. He counted them. There were only eight of the eleven at the tables. The two who had saved him, Elzabad and Machbannai, along with a third, Jeremiah, were missing. He thought that maybe they were relieving themselves. He thought he should relieve himself.

Benaiah got up and stumbled out to the bushes. He breathed a sigh of relief as the pressure released and he realized his bladder had been quite full. He barely moved his sword in time to keep it from getting sprayed. Perhaps he did drink a bit too much.

He saw the bright moon and looked down upon the field at the bottom of the hill. He could see the shepherd quarters where David and Abigail were having much more fun than he was. He longed for a woman, a soft soul he could love and protect.

Something else caught his eye. He thought he saw three figures finding their way down the hill in crouched posture.

They had manes.

              • • • • •

David and Abigail consummated their new union. They lay in each others’ arms inside the shepherd’s cottage on the floor. David felt undeserving of this amazing woman.

Abigail, finally, for the first time in her life, felt loved and accepted. For the first time in her life, she had experienced sexual release. She did not know such a thing could be. Her only knowledge of sex was the laborious and slavish use, at the hands of a selfish monster. Thank Yahweh that painful torture had stopped years ago with his impotence. But that was all gone and in the past, along with the beatings. It could never be forgotten, but it could be covered. It had damaged her, but it could be redeemed. David had redeemed her, freed her from prison. He had tended her with care and had drawn honey from her petals as he had promised.

At first, she could not do it. Years of abuse had risen up from within and tore at her soul. Fear seized her, self-loathing overwhelmed her. She even pushed David away reflexively.

But he understood what she faced and waited with patience. He whispered a lullaby of loving words that soothed her fears. He had a way with words, this one.

When she had finally given him permission, David had caressed her gently and had handled her like a lyre, plucking her strings with just the right pressure and creating music she had never heard before. So this was what it meant to be united with a real man, to share the pleasure of the marriage bed, with a man of Yahweh, no less! Yahweh made all things better.
All things
, especially sexual union. Yahweh was as much a part of their love together as he was a part of every blessing in her life. She had been so broken and abused. But now she saw hope for healing.

David’s head jerked up. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” she asked. She still swam in the delight of her afterglow.

David got up and walked to the window. A soft breeze blew upon his face. She smiled, looking upon his naked, manly form in the moonlight, a taut and muscular stallion. She could not wait to ride him again.

David turned from the window toward the door—and all Sheol broke loose.

The lattices of the window shattered with the incoming missile of an Ariel. He rolled to the floor, snapped out his massive claws and slammed them down toward Abigail’s head.

David grabbed her feet and jerked her out of the way before the claws could make contact. They jammed into the floor boards and stuck. She screamed.

David pulled her up and pushed her behind him.

The cottage was small, only about twelve feet square. She was going to get hurt in the fray.

The Lion Man growled with anger. It was Elzabad.

The door to David’s left burst inward off its hinges and slammed to the floor.

It was another Lion Man, Machbannai. He bared his fangs.

The other window lattices shattered inward as the third Lion Man, Jeremiah, leapt in and onto his feet.

David was outnumbered. He could take one of them, maybe hurt a second. But three of them in this small closed space was certain death.

His back was to the wall.

These Lion Men had fooled everyone by saving Benaiah’s life, only to elicit the trust they needed to spring their long planned attack. They were the most clever of assassins.

The trio of assassins were surprised when Machbannai, at the door, was yanked backwards from behind—by Benaiah.

The other two Lion Men were thrown off. They had not anticipated discovery.

David saw his one opportunity and pulled Abigail to the door. He didn’t know if there were other Lion Men outside, but if she stayed inside, she would surely die. With all his might, he threw her outside the doorway about six feet.

She landed with a thud and felt her rib bruised. But she knew David was getting her out of the way of the assassins. She got up and ran.

When David jumped outside the door, the two Lion Men followed. He stood before them naked and vulnerable without a weapon. They too were stark naked, partially covered with their chimeric fur. It was their unique way of stealth attack, to strip down to nothing like a lion in the wilderness, and to vanquish their prey with muscle, tooth, and claw.

David saw Benaiah on the ground still wrestling with Machbannai. Ariels were extraordinarily strong and agile. David had once seen one of them take on a bear and win.

 

The other two circled David, claws extended, fangs bared, ready to pounce.

The sound of cracking bone turned everyone’s heads. Benaiah’s grappling hold had stayed strong. He broke the neck of his adversary with a massive jerk.

Benaiah was no bear. He was a behemoth.

Benaiah pushed the body off himself, drew his sword, and jumped to his feet.

He spit out, “Let us teach these pussy cats a lesson.”

Benaiah tossed his sword to David, just as Jeremiah jumped. The Lion Man knocked the sword away as he tumbled into the dust. When the growling leonine warrior got to his feet, he stood over the sword.

 

Benaiah pulled his dagger.

Unfortunately for Benaiah and his one blade, Elzabad’s two hands with claws was like facing a warrior with ten knives, and ten knives on his feet as back up.

Elzabad growled and charged him with claws extended. The growl exposed the Lion Man’s teeth, resembling a mouthful of knives.

 

Elzabad swung his paws. Benaiah countered with his sweeping blade. They dodged and attacked each other in a synchronized dance of death. One false move would result in a slit throat or a disemboweling.

Benaiah could not keep up. He had been drinking too much earlier and his reflexes were slower than usual.

Two slices of the Lion Man’s talons drew blood on his arm and chest.

 

Jeremiah did not pick up the blade. He wanted to kill the messiah king with his bare paws. He wanted to feel the flesh rip with his fingers, and taste the blood on his lips as the life left David’s veins.

But David had much experience killing lions. And Jeremiah acted entirely predictably for one.

Jeremiah growled. He crouched low, muscles tightened, ready to bound upon his victim.

David saw the movements, planned his response.

When the Lion Man leapt, David ducked down and rolled beneath the flying assassin who landed in the dirt again.

David was still on the ground when Jeremiah gathered himself and immediately jumped toward David again.

 

Benaiah did not have a multitude of blades like his opponent. But his opponent could not throw his blades.

Benaiah saw the right moment and hurled his dagger at Elzabad when he was off balance.

It struck the Lion Man in his solar plexus, stunning him.

Before he could pull it out, Benaiah had launched into Elzabad, taking him down into the dirt.

 

Jeremiah jumped at David.

David snatched up the sword from the ground and rolled back around, thrusting the blade up at his flying predator.

The sword impaled the Lion Man through his gut.

He yelped and landed on David with a groan of deep pain, but he was not dead. He was close to David’s face and had enough left in him for one last act. The Lion Man opened his mouth wide in order to rip out David’s throat.

Before he could bite, another knife blade was embedded in his back from behind.

It was Abigail. She had found David’s dagger in the cottage and used it against the beast to save her beloved.

 

The Lion Man was still alive and deadly. He swatted Abigail to the ground.

He turned back to David, whose arms were still pinned beneath him.

This was it. David’s last stand. He had lost.

A blurred flurry of fur launched through the air and hit Jeremiah, knocking him off David and to the ground.

It was Ezer, the chief of the Lion Men.

Two other Lion Men were with him and they tore into Jeremiah’s body with ferocious abandon.

David backed out of their way, disturbed by the gruesome sight.

The scene looked like a pride of hungry lions tearing into the carcass of their prey, only it was one of their own. They were reaping judgment upon the assassin.

David crawled to Abigail and held onto her.

They turned and saw the other five Lion Men of Moab surrounding them.

Abigail gasped.

Joab’s voice penetrated the night, “My lord, David!”

Everyone turned to see Joab and Abishai with a host of twenty men with drawn weapons.

David held up his hand to Joab. “NO!”

Joab and Abishai froze. They were about to attack the Lion Men.

But David knew he was no longer in danger.

Ezer slowly approached David, his figure covered in blood and gore.

He stopped several feet from David and dropped to his knees.

“My lord,” said Ezer. “Forgive me. I did not know we had traitors in our midst.”

Joab thought it could be just another ploy.

David knew it was not. Ezer and his Lion Men had saved David from their own kindred. They were more loyal than half the mercenaries in David’s band.

David smiled and placed his hand on Ezer’s head and kissed him.

He said to Joab and the men, “We are safe.”

Joab turned to the other warriors and said, “Let’s get these corpses out of here and leave our lord alone with his lady.”

Though she appreciated the gesture, Abigail was too traumatized to be able to enjoy the rest of the evening. She just wanted to be held in her husband’s protective embrace and be told everything would be alright.

But everything was not alright.

Abigail whispered in dread, “David.”

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