Day of War (18 page)

As he watched them come, Jonathan deduced what must have happened.

The remainder of the Philistine army had crossed the pass near Megiddo the day after leaving Aphek and set up camp near the small town of Shunem. The men had engorged themselves on whatever was found there, livestock or women, while their commanders plotted the assault. While the bulk of the force had remained in sight, that night a regiment had snuck across the valley and waited at the base of the northern slope of Mount Gilboa. It was this regiment that was attacking first.

Jonathan could see the bulk of the Philistine army only now making its way across the plains to provide the second wave of the attack. They looked like a wave of hot metal from the horizon all the way across the plain and around the base of Gilboa. Jonathan watched it, feeling its presence, feeling the awesome power and majesty of such a force, and closed his eyes, wondering if Gareb knew they were coming.

He turned and looked at his men. They were frantically preparing weapons, those who had them, while archers were testing the bow lines and foot soldiers were tying fresh leather straps around the grips of spears and swords. They were stretched in a line along the middle of the mountain, their backs to a deep forest bordering the barren slope they were stationed on. They had the high ground and would be able to hold it for a while. If the Philistines overcame their lines, they could fall back over the ridge and disappear into the forest.

Good men, all of them, Jonathan thought. They did what they were ordered. Those who remained, anyway. Others had left, and he guessed they were probably with David by now.

He shook his head, then walked down the row of his men, letting them see him, letting them feel his presence; they would draw strength and courage from it. The tide of metal in the valley grew, but he felt calm.

Jonathan moved along the line to the north, toward the dark forest, noting that the sun was quickly approaching the last part of its journey. It was remarkable how fast the Philistines had broken camp and assembled their attack march. The advance regiment was already on the Gilboa slopes, the rest only a few hours behind.

They must be confident, and why would they not be? He looked across the waves of so many men. He would have been just as confident.

It was different now. Before, when he knew he was protected by the covering, numbers had not mattered. They had not mattered when he climbed the cliffs at Michmash, and they had not mattered in the years since then, when Israel walked with a proud swagger in the confidence of Yahweh’s blessing.

But they mattered now. Deep in his soul, they mattered, and he did not want them to. He walked to the forest, trying to ignore them.

On the farthest edge of his line, he saw a young man, a boy, he
realized, with no beard on his face. He was hastily fashioning the tip of a root into a point with a skinning knife.

“Find something metal.”

The boy blushed and looked down. Jonathan clapped him on the back and continued walking. He’d come to the end of his line of men now, and he glanced back. There were a paltry few hundred of them. He sighed as he thought about how many hardened Philistine soldiers awaited them below, then turned back and moved into the tree line.

It was immediately cooler, and he shivered. The undergrowth was thick, forcing him to leap over shrubs and tangled branches to get further in. After fighting through it a moment longer he reached a clearing, full of boulders, and sat down on one, still in the shade.

It was very calm. He listened to birds over his head and felt the chill of shadows across his neck and body. There were several pebbles in his sandals, and he took them off, emptied them, then let his feet air out for a while. It was wonderfully quiet. Few sounds of the army made it through the wall of trees. He would not have even known a battle loomed. Jonathan liked the quiet.

David was probably going back to his fortress at Ziklag. Spies had not seen him with the Philistine army in days.
He must have been ordered away, but why? Why would they send him off? To attack our rear? Surely he would not do it. Not his own people.
Jonathan left that thought buried.

It had been years since they’d fought side by side. They had not spoken in a long time, nor had any other contact. He nodded. It was better that way. David might have gone to the other side, and if he had, Jonathan would not have blamed him. Not after the way he had been treated.

Birds chirped wildly over his head in the canopy somewhere.
He leaned back, found a tree trunk, and gratefully rested against it, enjoying its strength.

And then he felt the drums. They pounded through the forest, animal skins being struck with clubs. The war drums of the Philistines. The battle would begin within the hour. He had to get back. No time for rest.

Roots for spears.

But the dark calm of the forest held Jonathan, and he gave in to it. His eyes remained closed, and he thought of wooden spears and running and sparring and laughter. There was always laughter in the camp when David was there. There was no laughter now. It was all out in the desert with David and Josheb and the others. Along with the pleasant camaraderie around the campfires. That had departed as well.

The incessant pounding of the drums had lulled him. He sat up and blinked, then shook his head to wake up. He desperately wanted to sleep, but not now. Sleep would come soon. The memories came as they always did before battle …

… lying around a campfire. David is there. It is a brilliant night of wondrous stars, deep and black and cold. I take the pieces of the lamb and set them down. David looks at me, confused, and I dip my hand into the warm depths of the animal and pull out flesh and blood and press it against his face. Then I take his wrist and clench it, feeling the hot blood stream through our fingers. From this day on, my brother, I will fight your enemies as if they are my own. A covenant of blood between us, to pass down through our sons and their sons …

But the days grow darker. David becomes too vicious, too coarse, too many women, too many vices. Yahweh, protect him from himself. He is your anointed. He does not know the depths of your covering yet. Be patient with him, God of my people, be patient with him. He will seek you …

The years pass and we must part. My soul has been cleaved. It is a clear night in the desert. Perhaps he will be able to make it to Samuel, who can help him. He will not tell me where he goes, because he knows I would help him, knows I would follow him. I would follow him anywhere. He looks at me; he knows how this hurts. But this is as it should be. We have no more wars together. Go, brother. Yahweh will be between us forever, in your line and in my line. Remember our covenant. Spare my children when you reign one day. He is weeping; he is still so young, and there is great anguish in his chest. He runs. My heart has left me, my brother …

Jonathan felt the burning in his own chest, strong now. He could stifle it in front of the men, but not in the quiet of the forest with the sound of the war drums. There were no tears at first, just a gasping for air at the pain of loss and sorrow and at the memories.

He gagged on his own coughs as if about to wretch. But there was nothing in his stomach; he had not eaten in a day because he had given all of his food to his men. He waited until the heaving in his gut calmed.

It would not be hard. Just run, right now. No Philistines, no roots for spears, just run and go. Join him. Restore the land. He desperately wanted to go. He could make it in a few days. He would disguise himself, go into Ziklag, and find David’s men. He would tell them he was a criminal looking for help. When David came out, they would embrace, and all would be right.

They would plan the rescue of the kingdom together. They would drive out the uncircumcised pagans together, capture Philistine cities and raid the Amalekite barbarians, and crush the enemies of Yahweh. They would establish peace in the land.

The tribes would unify immediately if they knew the two of them were waging war on their behalf. Judah and Benjamin, together at last. Philistia would become a vassal in a fortnight. And there would be laughter again. He would get to sit around the
campfire like the old army days and listen to Josheb’s jokes as he teased Shammah. Eleazar would pace, and David would sing one of his new songs on the lyre when all went quiet for the night, and they would be able to feel Yahweh’s very presence among them because of it.

Then he sighed. He would not leave his father, could not leave his brothers. His troops. It was his destiny to be here, with these men.

When Jonathan reached the edge of the forest, there was the boy with the root spear at the end of the flank, packing his stores and hiding them under rocks as the men were trained to do so that the enemy could not steal them. A section leader was giving orders, and the men were listening. The boy was terrified but trying to disguise it. He clutched the handmade spear to his chest.

Jonathan knelt, feeling the coolness stinging his sweat. He needed to listen to Yahweh. Yahweh had spoken to him before and might do it again. Perhaps he would be with them. It was only Gareb and I against many, he thought, and he was there then.

Jonathan prayed, eyes locked on the line of men, on the boy with the root trying to look brave to the older warriors. Jonathan had not felt Yahweh’s covering in a long time. It had been many months since that warmth and strength were there. He had allowed himself to slip into the gloom of his father.

Just as he and David used to ask for it together, he asked for it now, when his heart was empty.

Gareb had heard nothing from Jonathan.

Watching from the farthest western flank of the Hebrew lines, he cursed and spat. The command area was empty, and the king was nowhere to be found. Most of the top generals were actually
hiding
themselves behind their men. Only Abner, the senior general of the army, seemed anxious to begin the fight. Gareb watched the valley fill with more Philistine foot soldiers.

Saul’s army was full of hardened veterans who had engaged many times, up close and where it mattered, but their ranks were thin, even more so now than several days before when he had walked the encampment with the servant Eliam. Many had deserted, going back to their farms and herds while they still could.

He glanced at the water rack. Eliam was staring wide-eyed at the mass of armed and trained soldiers gathering below them. Future armor bearer to Jonathan. He laughed at the thought. Well, it would not be necessary anyway. They would all be dead by evening, loyal to the last. The disloyal ones had fled and would live, and the loyal ones would die this day. Wonderful.

Deciding to make himself useful, he started counting battle standards. The Philistines were arrogant and proud and clearly informed any opposing army exactly how many of them there were. Each group of marching soldiers in the valley was divided into companies, with each standard suspended over the head of the commander.

He lost track after five thousand men. Their own pitiful force would be outnumbered ten to one. Never had it been a problem before, but here they were, out in the open, about to fight using the very form of warfare that had led to their destruction in ages past. No conferring with the priests, no briefings from commanders. It was unlike Jonathan to leave the men stranded and without knowledge of their strategy.

There were a few bright spots. The Philistines had taken the bait and were attacking uphill. The arrogance of their generals would not let them bypass the Israelite army and fight defensively. Of course, a massive assault to the front like this one would probably
end in Philistine victory as well, Gareb thought. Either way, the nation would change after today if they lost. No more united tribal loyalty. No more monarchy. Even if he escaped, Saul would be able to rally few supporters.

Finally, after hours of movements and pounding war drums, the vast array of Philistine companies and regiments ceased their movements, resembling a monstrous serpent lining the valley back toward Shunem. He could not see any of their giants or champions, which meant that they did not intend to leave this contest up to the gods. That had gone badly for them the last time. He chuckled. It would be nice to have David with them today.

The chariot companies sat in the rear. What for? To chase them in the valley if they fled that direction?

There was brief shouting down the lines, and Saul emerged from behind a group of men. Much taller than anyone else, he easily stood out against the rocky slopes. Even now some of the men still believed in him. Men of the tribe of Benjamin, most likely.

Gareb watched Saul make his great strides to the front of the line and then turn toward the troops. He waited. This was the point where the king gave speeches to rally them, but Gareb did not hear any words. The king only stood silently, back turned to the enemy, his armor bearer next to him.

Gareb looked back at the Philistine lines, about a hundred reeds away, and saw archers making their way forward. They shouted and waved their standards, taunting the Israelites. He could hear them all the way up the side of the mountain. The sound easily carried across the boulders and rocks. The Israelites answered.

The sun glinted on the shields and swords of the Philistines. Gareb laughed. Swords. How nice it would have been to have more of them.

The Philistine archers would follow the first line of assault,
waiting until they were close enough to use the foot soldiers as cover and volley arrows into the Hebrew ranks. It would be devastating. There would be enormous casualties immediately. The Philistine arrows were heavy and iron tipped, and his men were protected only by thin shields and leather armor, with bits of copper stitched into the vests.

While the archers reloaded their bows, fresh Philistine troops would push forward in a surge behind the first ranks. They would repeat that cycle every half hour, supported by constant barrages by the Philistine archers, until the Israelites were destroyed. There would be heads and weapons captured as war prizes. The throne of Israel would be without an heir. David would lead his rebel army on raids and continue to get rich, and the people would suffer as they always had in these lands.