Michal (12 page)

The morning sun glinted off the metal blade David held in one hand. With the other hand, he took a rough stone and rubbed it back and forth over the sword. Almost a month had passed since their last battle—and that fateful night of Merab’s wedding and Michal’s declaration of love. If he closed his eyes, he could still feel the warmth of her smile and see the blush on her cheeks. His chest lifted in a deep sigh.

It was just as well that nothing had come of it. He could not afford to give his heart, his sensibility, to a woman. She was simply a testament to his own weakness.

Still, she was an interesting creature, if nothing else.

He bent over the sword again, scraping the metal, the noise grating on his ears. The thought of marrying her had crossed his mind more than once, but the obvious impossibility of it all squelched the idea. The Most High would find a way to give him the throne—with or without marriage to Saul’s daughter.

A noise behind jolted him. In one swift motion he dropped the stone and turned the blade on the intruder. Seeing his nephew, he lowered his arm.

“Joab, don’t come up behind me like that. I could have killed you!”

“Sorry, Uncle. But we aren’t at war. Why are you so jumpy?”

David gave Joab a cursory glance. “What do you want?” David picked up the stone he had dropped and readied the sword to begin sharpening it again.

“I’ve heard talk.”

David lifted his head. “What kind of talk?”

“I believe Saul wants to offer you the position of son-in-law again.”

The steady beat of David’s heart increased. He rested the sword across his lap. “How do you know this?”

“Saul has sent a delegation of his men to speak with you. I just wanted to warn you ahead of time.”

And take the credit for the news
, David thought. He stroked his beard, then picked up the sword again and bent over the stone. “I’m still a poor man with no dowry to offer him, Joab.”

“You underestimate your worth, Uncle.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Joab walk away.

An hour later, a handful of palace servants found him oiling his shield in the guardhouse.

“Greetings, Captain.”

“Brothers.” David nodded to the men, setting his shield on a low table. “What can I do for you?”

“We have a message for you,” said one servant whom David recognized as a personal attendant to the king.

“I’m listening.”

“The king delights in you, and all his servants love you, therefore the king desires you to become his son-in-law.”

David studied the group. Thanks to Joab, he’d had time to consider the matter. But every way he looked at the situation, the problems of his lineage and lack of wealth remained. He was no rich merchant who could drop gold coins into Saul’s purse like Merab’s new husband did. “Do you think it is a small matter to become son-in-law to the king? I am a poor man and lightly esteemed.”

“Nevertheless, the king delights in you. He’s giving you a second chance to become his son-in-law.”

This had to be Michal’s doing. But he still could not accept. “I’m sorry, brothers. I cannot go to the king empty-handed.”

David watched the men walk away dejected. Their expressions matched the feelings in his heart. But there was nothing else he could do.

David bent over the curved shield, rubbing until his fingers ached. At the creaking of the wooden door, he looked up. The delegation of Saul’s servants strode toward him, smiling.

“You’re back,” David said. He wiped the last of the oil from his hands, then carried the shield to his corner of the room.

“The king has set a dowry.”

David studied Saul’s personal attendant. “Indeed?”

“The king said to tell you that he desires no other dowry than one hundred Philistine foreskins, to take vengeance on his enemies.”

No doubt the king hoped he would die in the process. David surveyed the roomful of men, then the light outside the open window. The sun had moved halfway to the middle of the sky. If they went now, they could be back by first light, God willing.

“Tell the king the terms are acceptable.”

David turned to his men, noting their eager expressions. “Listening to my conversations, are we?” he asked. A few nodded sheepishly. “Volunteers willing to help me secure the bride price—let’s go.”

“Send the servants to gather palm fronds and wildflowers for the baskets, Mother. If we don’t start to decorate soon, David will be back, and nothing will be ready for our wedding.” Michal stood in the arch of the door to her mother’s bedchamber, hands on her hips.

Ahinoam sat at an ornate dressing table, her maid pulling a shell-shaped comb through her long, graying hair. “A bit anxious, aren’t we, Daughter? And confident too.” She swiveled in her seat to look at Michal, her expression tender. “At lunch, your father couldn’t stop gloating over his cleverness. He seems to think your young hero will die trying to secure the dowry.”

“Which is exactly what he wants, Mother. But God is with David. He’ll be back, and I want to be ready.” Michal stepped into the room and knelt at her mother’s side. “Please, Mother, couldn’t we have the kitchen staff begin preparations? Father doesn’t need to know. Then, if David should succeed, there will be nothing to stop our wedding.”

“And if he fails, Michal? Whatever will we do with so much food?” Ahinoam placed one hand on Michal’s shoulder, then reached to stroke her cheek. “I know you love the boy, but you must be realistic. This caper is not an easy feat, not to mention gruesome. If just one man is not completely dead when David goes to snatch his—” She looked away, but not before Michal caught the disgusted scowl on her face. “Can you imagine? What was your father thinking?”

Michal chewed one nail, then thought better of it. She’d gotten Father to pursue her marriage this far. She couldn’t stop now. “He was thinking he’d finally found a way to rid himself of his worst enemy, Mother. But just in case I’m right, and God is truly with David, couldn’t we start preparations? If David dies, Father can throw a feast with the extra food to celebrate.”

She shivered at the thought, knowing full well her father would pretend to mourn rather than make merry. But the people of Israel would grieve for months. And the king would do anything, even grieve for his enemy, to please the people.

“Your father wouldn’t celebrate, Michal. At least not publicly. But I suppose a few plans are in order.” She turned back to the table to allow her maid to finish pinning up her hair. “Go and tell Marta to secure extra food and help. Send a runner to contact Adriel for more food. Oh, and send for your sister. She should be part of this, regardless of your father’s broken promises.”

Michal stood and bent to kiss her mother’s cheek. “Thank you, Mother. I’ll get started right away.” She fairly skipped out of the room, down the long, shadowed halls, to see Marta.

“You’ve got your hundred foreskins, David.” Joab slapped the last piece of bloody flesh on the pile at David’s feet and sighed. “Let’s go home.”

David looked across the Philistine camp at the bodies lined up in rows for easy counting purposes. The raiding party they’d come across held two hundred men, and after a swift but bloody battle, the soldiers under his command destroyed them all. Now the mutilated foreskins of one hundred men sat below him in a heap. But what if they lost one on the way back? What if they’d miscounted?

“Double it.” David unsheathed his flint knife. “I don’t want to take any chances.” He strode to the line of blood-soaked Philistines, whose tunics still covered their legs.

“You heard the captain,” Joab shouted to the exhausted soldiers. “Double the dowry.”

Before long, the sun edged closer to the western horizon. The mission had been accomplished sooner than David expected. He dropped the last slimy foreskin into a goatskin pouch and tied the bag to his horse’s saddle. He cast a long look at the Philistine camp. Overhead, carrion birds flew in circles, creating wide arcs in the cloudless sky, and then swooped low, waiting to devour the dead.

“Let’s go.”

“David, son of Jesse, respectfully requests to see King Saul.” David spoke to the guard blocking the audience chamber door a few hours later. “I have brought the dowry he requested.”

The guard opened the heavy door, walking ahead of David to announce his presence. David followed, set the pouch on the stone floor, and knelt.

“I have done as you have requested, my lord. Behold two hundred Philistine foreskins to take vengeance on my lord’s enemies and provide the dowry for your daughter Michal to become my wife.”

Saul’s expression moved from disinterest to suspicion.
Please, Lord, after giving us such quick success, don’t let him
defraud me again.

Footsteps sounded behind David. He waited until the source came into view, not daring to look away from Saul.

“It looks like we’re about to have a wedding, Father.” Jonathan’s voice sent peace straight to David’s heart.

“Mother and Michal have been planning all day, decorating and preparing food. Now that David has supplied an appropriate dowry, there is no reason to wait. Are you ready to become son-in-law to the king, David?”

“Yes, my lord.” David could not suppress an appreciative smile.

“Count them!” The king’s demand echoed off the stone walls like crashing thunder. “I want to see every last one.”

Jonathan’s eyes flashed as he drew himself up to his full height and took two steps forward. “You can trust David, Father.”

David began to untie the bag. The putrid scent of blood and decaying flesh sickened him, but he held his breath and dumped the contents onto the floor. With painstaking accuracy, David picked up and counted each one—“One, two, three . . .”—through all two hundred pieces of flesh.

“Are you satisfied now, Father?”

“You doubled the amount.” The king’s jaw slackened in disbelief, then closed again. A look of resignation was evident in his slumped shoulders and dipped head.

“Yes, my lord. In case some were lost—I wanted to be sure.”

Saul gave David a thoughtful look. “My daughter loves you.”

“Yes, my lord. And I am offering to spread my garment over her, to care for her.”

“He’s met your requirement, Father,” Jonathan said.