Covenant of War

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Authors: Cliff Graham

Tags: #War, #Thriller, #History

BOOK: Covenant of War
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COVENANT
OF
WAR

LION OF WAR SERIES
BOOK 2

CLIFF GRAHAM

For Cassandra, LMT

This one is for David L. Cunningham
,
who has been a tireless champion
fighting to see it through
,
even during
the droughts

I am for peace, but when I speak, they are for war …

P
SALM
120:7

PROLOGUE

Clear, bright moonlight covered the land as four men, hiding in the trees lining the hilltop, studied the sleeping town. It was crisp and calm. The bustle of the day — merchants entering and leaving the gates, children sword fighting with branches, women chattering on their way to the washing stream — had ended an hour previously. Instead of the evening revelry common in the Hebrew villages, the people in this town were more focused, seemingly determined to get through their business and get indoors for the night.

The civil unrest must be making them cautious, David thought. He looked again at the distant roving sentries, pacing restlessly. He wondered if he would recognize any of them from better days.

One of his companions, shivering from the sudden chill, leaned close. “How many does Saul have here?”

“A thousand. Nothing we can do.”

Josheb sighed. “Then why are we still here? Shouldn’t we be leaving for the fortress? We aren’t strong enough yet.”

The leader nodded. “Just wanted to say good-bye.”

“To who? The king? I didn’t think you two were on good terms. Maybe that’s just because he’s hunting us down and trying to impale our heads on spikes.”

“He wouldn’t come near Bethlehem; so no, not him,” David answered, then gestured toward a small clearing in the trees below them down the hill, near the city gate. “That.”

“What is it?” asked one of the others.

“The purest, sweetest water in all the Lord’s creation.”

“I thought the well was inside the city gates.”

“The main community well is. This one is the shepherd’s well.”

“They share it with the livestock?”

“No,” the leader answered, “they keep it to themselves.”

The three men next to the leader stared at the clearing, barely visible through the moonlit forest below. It was an open patch of stone-covered ground, overhung by long branches of sycamore. At the edge of the clearing were three small holes in the ground with rocks stacked around them. Dark water rippled on the surface of each. The city gate loomed close by.

“Why is it special?” said Shammah, crouched nearby.

“I used to watch sheep in these hills. While they were in the pens for the night, I would slip through the forest to that well and drink. The water was always cold and refreshing, no matter how hot the day had been. Always gave me something to look forward to. Refilled me. In many ways.” He paused. “I hope it never goes dry.”

His companions looked at one another, smirking.

“That is the sort of thing the men make fun of you for. Behind your back, of course,” Eleazar said.

“What?”

“All the poetry, the singing, the deeper meanings.”

David smiled. “As long as they stay loyal, I don’t care what they laugh at.”

A fifth man slowly crawled up next to them, careful to keep his profile low.

“Forest is clear of patrols. You should be able to move without being seen by the sentries if you stay in the woods.”

“Thank you, Benaiah.”

They listened to the night sounds a while longer. David gazed longingly at the town. His city, the roots of his youth. He could see the rocks near the gate where he’d learned to sling, and the sheep corrals, and the stump where the shepherds stood to give the shrill, unique cry that their sheep recognized.

The night was quiet and peaceful, and his thoughts wandered. David stared at the forest, thinking about when his companions first came to him.

They had approached the cave cautiously in the early morning mist, their sandals wet from the moist grasses covering the hillside. Every bead of dew glistened and twinkled as the sun rose over the distant purple mountains to the east. It was quiet, but they must have known they were being watched.

Josheb held up his hand when they reached the entrance of the cave. He carried a small pack over his shoulder, as did the other two. Each of the three fought with multiple weapons, and now they held them patiently as Josheb stepped forward.

“If an arrow flies out of that cave at me, I will catch it in midflight and kill the man who shot it,” Josheb said.

A few moments passed, then David emerged from inside, and as he did, others crawled out of various nooks and clefts scattered around the field, all holding farming tools or rusty swords cracked from overuse. The leader of the three new warriors stood his ground as David faced them from the cave entrance.

“Peace to you, old friends. Tell these men who you are.”

“Josheb-basshebeth, chief of the Three. This is Eleazar the son of Dodai, and this is Shammah the son of Agee the Hararite.”

There was murmuring among the men emerging from the woods and caves. A few pointed. Others watched warily. Some had been in Saul’s armies and had heard of the feats of these men, but the foreigners were staring skeptically.

“They have heard of you and your fathers,” David said.

Josheb bowed his head at the compliment. “We have come to join you, David son of Jesse.”

David glanced around at everyone on the hillside, then walked out of the cave to stand in front of Josheb. He spoke so that only the three could hear. “We have been here for a week. These men all came and found me.”

“Your brothers?” Eleazar asked.

“They’re out scouting the hills. My father is on his way.” David paused. “The Three? That’s what you are calling yourselves now?”

“I wanted to call us something like ‘Yahweh’s Blade’ or ‘Yahweh’s Fury,’ but Shammah thought that might offend Yahweh if we were to presume to use his name. You can name us whatever you like so long as you keep Shammah’s feelings in mind,” Josheb said. Shammah scowled at him.

David suppressed a grin. “Other than my brothers, none of these men has ever fought as armies are supposed to fight, with discipline and order. But they are dangerous and violent men and won’t shy away when it comes time to spill blood. Thieves, criminals, outcasts, foreigners. I need good leaders to help me train them.”

“I know. That’s why we came,” Josheb replied. “Saul hunts us now just as he hunts you. The three of us refused to say that you were a traitor and deserving of death. Saul ordered us killed. We didn’t agree, so we left. We assumed you would need an army.”

David nodded, wishing he could embrace them immediately at this act of loyalty. He looked at Eleazar. Loud enough for the men on the hillside around them to hear, he said, “Your father is a man of war and a mighty leader. Are you?”

“Yes, lord.”

He looked at Shammah.

“Your father followed Yahweh, the God of Jacob, better than any
I have known besides the seer Samuel. Do you follow him the same as your father?”

“By Yahweh’s great mercy, I do, lord.”

David nodded. Then, quietly again, “Your wives?”

“Eleazar and I have them in a nearby village awaiting our word. Shammah, as you remember, still has no woman because his manhood shrivels when they come near.”

David had to hide his smile as Shammah swung at Josheb.

“These men won’t respect me if you say things like that,” Shammah said.

“They’ll respect your ability,” Josheb said. “And half of them are probably uncircumcised, so why would you care?”

“They will need to see a demonstration or they will not follow you,” David said.

“Show us some Philistines, and we will give a demonstration,” said Josheb.

“One day — but not yet. We still need them.”


Need
the Philistines? For what?” Eleazar asked.

“Just for a while. I will explain later. But first you need to show these men something that will demonstrate that you deserve my trust and their loyalty, something that will make them love you and be willing to follow you into Sheol.”

“What could we possibly do that would gain that kind of trust?”

“They are simple men. Do something amazing and they will follow you.”

Josheb nodded. “Then we need your best javelin throwers, slingers, and archers.”

David studied him. “Many men can avoid a javelin thrown at them by a skilled thrower when they know it is coming. Same with a stone or an arrow.”

“All at one time?” Josheb asked, grinning.

David looked at Eleazar and Shammah to see if this was a joke,
but they only smiled. He ran his hand through his auburn hair. “If you die, the blame is on your head before Yahweh.”

“Agreed. You are absolved of guilt, lord.”

David shook his head, but inwardly he was eager to see what would happen. He gestured to a group of men standing nearby.

“Three will throw the javelins. Three archers from the tribe of Benjamin will draw arrows. Two more will sling with me.”

The Three and their attackers all took their positions. The men gathered on the hillside called out taunts and whistled at the three warriors, who now stood side by side several lengths apart. David organized the attackers.

“If Yahweh has willed that these men should join us, perhaps they will withstand our assault,” he said to all present.

Josheb, Eleazar, and Shammah crouched low and each raised his sword in a protective posture. Then David shouted the signal, and instantly arrows flew, javelins were thrown, and stones spun toward the three men.

And everyone present saw two things happen at once: the flash of blades against the morning sun and the splintering of arrows and javelins.

Then Eleazar and Shammah were standing in front of Josheb with swords drawn, panting from exertion, while Josheb was holding the three stones that had been slung at them. David was the first to understand, and he shouted a war whoop.

Eleazar and Shammah had destroyed the arrows and javelins in midflight while Josheb caught the stones with his bare hands.

Now there were cheers, and David embraced each of them. The others at the cave chanted their names. But as David leaned close, he whispered into their ears, “Sleep with one eye open, because they will slit your throat if they get the chance.”

The weeks passed, then the months, and David remembered the endless days of training and drilling and weaponry, and how
the three warriors never lost heart. Just like in the old days when he led Saul’s armies, he put himself and them through everything a man could bear, and they withstood it, encouraging those in their command to go the full distance with them. The new members of the army and the foreigners had never experienced anything like it. Running up hills for endless hours, leaping over logs rolled down the mountainside toward them, the times around the campfires trying to sort out who had offended whom with what remark. And the breaking of the laws of Yahweh by some Hebrews, and the mocking of it by the foreigners.

Eventually David had to move his father and brothers away from the cave to keep them safe from the ever-increasing patrols of Saul. His band’s families were hidden in the villages and visited at night. Some of the original band deserted, but the Three and those loyal to them remained, and David’s army grew in size and skill, preparing for the day they would be used. David had embraced them one by one as they streamed in, often angry or hopeless, but he did not ask their full story unless they were prepared to share it. Each man came in his own way.

Later that night as his companions dozed, David stood and walked down the hill, moving noiselessly and leaving no trace. His thick hair swirled with the night breeze as he walked, his wool cloak hanging loosely over his shoulders, disguising the unusually large iron blade strapped across his back with leather belts. His sandals were new, a gift from his men purchased from a merchant and made of the finest leather, so their slight squeaking as they broke in was the only mark of his movement. He would not have worn them on such a journey, but the eager and proud faces of his warriors had weakened his resolve.

An owl went quiet as he walked beneath it, humming softly to himself. He was close enough to the city garrison now that he could see the flicker of campfires and the Hebrew soldiers sitting around them. There was occasional laughter. Every army is the same, he thought. He wondered if he had ever commanded any of the men in the Bethlehem garrison.

At the edge of the clearing, David remained in the shadows of the trees and watched the moonlit grass near the water. There was no movement; no sentries guarded this place, and he praised his God that it was still unknown to outsiders, as though divinely shielded.

He stepped forward again, pulling the great Philistine sword out from under his cloak, and as he approached the edge of the small well, he laid the weapon next to it. The blade was chipped, scuffed, and in need of reforging, but he would never give it up.

The dark water reflected his face as he leaned over it, its surface as smooth as a burnished silver plate. David touched it with his lips, and as he drank the water, his throat prickled in cool refreshment. He would know the taste of this water anywhere, a taste no other well could match — the taste of his home. As boys, he and his friends had lain around it talking of becoming great warriors.

His father had been the one to show it to him when he was small. It was one of the few memories David had of spending time alone with his father.

David cupped the water and splashed his face, relishing it as it ran through his hands into his hair and beard.

David lowered his head back to the water, closed his eyes, and immediately he was back in the cave again, and Saul was there, only paces away. All he had to do was strike him and kill him on the spot. The Three urged him, Abishai and the others urged him. It would be fast and the kingdom would be his.

But it was not yet time. He couldn’t betray Jonathan like that, couldn’t rush Yahweh.

While Saul’s army continued to hunt them, David’s band raided Amalekite villages for the Philistine king and stayed away from Saul, who was slowly ruining their land. There was battle, and death, and murder, and betrayal. David had many chances to take the throne.

But it was not yet time.

David breathed slowly between drinks. He kept his lips on the surface to savor it. The night was still and calm. Not even a breeze stirred across the heavy boughs of cypress and pine. He shivered.

Something was close.

You do not have what it takes to lead them
.

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