David’s eyes glowed. “Oh, what treasure you hold in your hand.”
Jonathan pushed away from the wall. Smiling, he rested his hand on David’s shoulder. He jerked his head. “What do you say we find ourselves a lamp and get my scrolls?”
They read the Law until they were too tired to see the words. Exhausted, David went out to his relatives and Jonathan returned to the palace. When he stretched out on his bed, he closed his eyes.
Finally, he had found someone who loved the Lord like Samuel did, a friend who was closer than a brother.
Jonathan smiled. He fell asleep exhausted. Content.
The Philistines raided once again, and Saul sent David out to fight. Jonathan heard reports of David’s success, and was pleased. Jonathan fought well also and drove the Philistines off tribal lands. Returning to Gibeah, he dined with his father.
“I heard David had another victory.”
Saul’s mouth was flat and hard. “Yes.”
“Have the wedding arrangements been made?”
Saul was eating grapes, the muscles in his jaw bunching hard as he ground his teeth. “I’m still thinking about it.”
Jonathan lost his appetite. “You gave your oath. The man who killed Goliath was to have wealth—”
“He is growing wealthy on plunder.”
“Tax exemptions for his family—”
“So Jesse sends me a few sheep; why should I decline?”
“And your daughter in marriage.”
“I offered him Merab, and he declined.”
“He felt unworthy.”
Saul gave a harsh laugh. “Or that impudent Judean thinks my daughter’s not good enough for him.”
Jonathan stared. “You know that’s not true.”
“David!” Saul spat the word as though it were a foul taste in his mouth. “So much humility!” He sneered and ripped a hunk of meat from the roasted lamb. “I have given Merab to Adriel of Meholah. She leaves day after tomorrow.”
Jonathan felt the words like a punch in his stomach. “When was this decision made?”
“What does it matter to you when the decision was made? I am the king!” He threw the meat back onto the platter. “Judah is already an ally.” He wiped his greasy hands on a cloth. “Meholah’s clan was in question. They are now allies. It was a good decision.”
Jonathan was too angry to speak.
His father looked at him. “Do not try me, Jonathan. I know David is your friend, but I understand our people better than you do! I must make alliances.”
“You would have made an alliance with Judah by giving Merab to David. Do you think they will be pleased that you’ve forgotten the promises you made at the valley of Elah?”
Saul’s face reddened. “They know I offered Merab to him. I kept my promise.”
Jonathan knew he could not let the subject go. Bridges had to be built, not torn down, between the tribes. He waited for his father to finish his meal and drink some wine before he broached it again. “Michal is in love with David.”
His younger sister would not make as good a wife as Merab, but what she lacked in sense she made up for in beauty. The marriage would bring Benjamin and David together, and if his sister bore David’s sons, they would be added to Saul’s household. But most important, the marriage would confirm the king’s honor.
“She is?”
“She told me today that he is the most handsome man in all Israel.”
Saul chewed, eyes gleaming. He made a gruff sound and drank more wine. “What’s to keep him from declining Michal as he declined Merab?”
“He won’t if you make it clear you think him worthy to be your son. He paid the bride-price when he killed Goliath.”
“The bride-price.” Saul raised his head. “I had not thought about that.”
“So you will offer Michal.”
“Of course.” Saul plucked some grapes and tossed one into his mouth. He leaned back, a smug smile curving his lips.
David returned to Gibeah. Jonathan was kept so busy with matters of state that he had no time to see him. And when he did, David was preparing to leave again. “Pray for me, my friend!” David clasped Jonathan’s arms in greeting. He was trembling with excitement. “I have just spoken to several of the king’s attendants and I may become your brother yet!”
“You are already my brother.” Jonathan was delighted his father had followed through with his decision to give Michal to David.
David released him and they walked together. “I’m leaving in an hour.”
“Leaving? For where?”
“The king announced the bride-price for your sister Michal. And I have until the new moon festival.”
“David!” Jonathan called before he went far. “What price did the king set?”
“One hundred foreskins!”
One hundred kills—and proof they were uncircumcised Philistines. Jonathan was dismayed, for it was another indication that his father was adopting the customs of surrounding nations. The Egyptians lopped off hands and collected them as trophies to prove how many they killed. The Philistines took heads. Jonathan wondered if his father understood that he might be sending David to his death. And if Israel lost their champion, what then? Would they lose their faith as well? By all that was right, Michal already belonged to David because of the king’s promise.
But maybe his father was right. David was eager to prove himself worthy.
Lord, protect him. Go before him and be his rear guard. And may Michal prove herself a worthy bride when David returns!
Jonathan was in council with his father and the advisors when cheers came from outside. Saul raised his head in irritation. “What is going on out there?”
The city was in an uproar of excitement. “David!” The people shouted. “David!”
Saul’s face darkened for a moment, and then he rose. “Your friend returns. Go and greet him.” He looked at the others. “We will follow.”
Jonathan ran. He laughed when he saw David, for no one had to ask if his quest had been successful. A bloody sack was in his hand. “You did it!”
“Two hundred.” David held up the sack.
“May the Lord be with you every day of your life! Michal will be dancing when she hears the news.” Most likely she already had. His sister would be blessed with a husband who could protect her. He saw his father come outside. “Come, David! The king waits!”
Jonathan brought his friend to Saul. “Two hundred foreskins, Father. Twice what you asked for!”
David bowed low and held the sack out to the king. “The bride-price for your daughter, my king.”
A muscle twitched below Saul’s right eye, and then he smiled broadly, held his arms wide. “My son!”
As the king engulfed David in his arms, the people went wild with joy.
Preparations were quickly made for the wedding. As David’s best friend, Jonathan took care of overseeing the details. There would be food for thousands and wine to wash it down. The king was glum, but the prince spared no expense. After all, the daughter of the king was marrying Israel’s champion. The tribes of Benjamin and Judah would become allies forever.
No one tried to convince Jonathan otherwise.
Jonathan put the groom’s crown on David’s head. “You’re ready.” He put his hand firmly on David’s shoulder. “Stop shaking.”
David’s forehead was beaded with moisture. “I have followed the Law since my youth, Jonathan, but I feel ill-prepared for marriage.” He raised his brows.
“Michal is not an enemy, my friend. And she loves you.”
David blushed. “We’ll see how she feels about me tomorrow morning.”
Chuckling, Jonathan gave him a shove toward the door.
Michal had never looked more beautiful or joyful than when she stood beneath the canopy with David. Her dark eyes glowed as she looked at him. When David took her hand, a pulse beat in her throat. People smiled and whispered among themselves.
Representatives from all the tribes came to the
wedding, Judah in full force. Campfires dotted the landscape around Gibeah. The sound of harps and tambourines drifted through the night, along with the people’s laughter.
King Saul announced his gift at the banquet: a house near the king. David was stunned and grateful by such a show of generosity, and praised the king for it. Saul raised his goblet of wine. The people sang and danced.
Jonathan leaned close. “The people are pleased, Father.”
King Saul sipped, watching the festivities over the rim of his cup. “Let us hope we have not sown the seeds of our own destruction!”
* * *
FOUR
* * *
Jonathan found it difficult to concentrate on Michal’s litany of complaints, having just come from a tense meeting with his father. The next time his sister requested a visit with him, perhaps he should refuse.
Michal might adore David, but she whined endlessly about the burdens of David’s responsibilities. Jonathan was thankful not to have a wife. How hard it must be for David to concentrate on Philistine threats when the most immediate threat was a tantrum in his own home.
“I wish he wasn’t Israel’s champion. If he was an ordinary soldier, I’d be delighted,” she grumbled.
Jonathan knew better.
“At least then he could stay home a year! No one would miss him!”
Lounging, Jonathan considered her. “You and David have had a month without interruption.” Long enough to conceive a child. “Now, the king wants him back on duty. Complaining won’t alter the needs of the nation, Michal.”
“Every time a village is raided, it’s my husband who has to go out again. Why can’t you be the one to go all the time? You have no wife.”
Jonathan would like nothing better, but the king often sent him on other errands, especially to speak for unity among the tribes. “You should be proud of David.”
“I am proud. But . . .”
Here it comes.
“You know the Law better than anyone, Jonathan. Doesn’t it say when a man takes a new wife, he isn’t to go off with the army or be charged with any duty other than to give happiness to her?”
He smiled cynically. “I’m delighted you’re taking an interest in the Law, though you have dubious motives. You cannot choose one Law and ignore all the rest.”
Her eyes blazed. “I’m not happy! It says I’m to have my husband long enough to be happy.”
And how long would that take? “You’re a daughter of the king of Israel. Shouldn’t you be thinking of what is best for our people?”
Chin tipping, she looked away. “It’s not fair!”
“Is it fair that the Philistines strip the poor of their sustenance? Of all our commanders, David has the most success against our enemies. The king is wise to use him.”
“Or would you rather have the war come to our doorstep?” David spoke from the doorway.
Michal glanced up, blushing. Embarrassed, she grew angry. “You would think my father wanted you dead the number of times he sends you out!”
Jonathan rose in anger. “Only a fool speaks such nonsense!”
“A fool?” She glared up at him. “It’s true, Jonathan! The only fool around here is—”
“Be quiet!” David said.
“You spend more time with my brother than you do with me!”
Red-faced, David came to her, drew her up, and led her aside. He kept his voice low as he leaned close and spoke to her. Any other man would have slapped her. Jonathan was pleased that his friend was forgiving. Hopefully, Michal would appreciate her husband’s patience and compassion. Her shoulders slumped. She bowed her head. She sniffled and wiped her eyes. He tipped her chin, kissed her cheek, and spoke again, and she left the room.
David faced Jonathan, clearly mortified by his wife’s behavior. “My servant will see her home. I’m sorry, Jonathan. She doesn’t mean the things she says.”
“Why are you apologizing? My sister is the one who can’t hold her tongue.”
“She’s my wife, Jonathan.”
“A rebuke?”
David looked uncomfortable.
“Sit. Relax.” Jonathan smiled. “It speaks well of you that you are protective of your wife. She is right about the Law, my friend. It does call for a bridegroom’s year at home to make a woman happy, and the way to do that is to fill her with child.” Unfortunately, the king had no intention of following that particular law. He feared the Philistines more than God.
“I’m trying.”
Jonathan laughed. He rose and slapped David’s back. “Come, my friend. Let’s look over the maps.” They spent the next few hours in deliberation, discussing tactics and making plans. A servant came with refreshments.
David tore a piece of bread and dipped it in his wine. “Why haven’t you taken a wife, Jonathan?”
From what Jonathan had seen of David and Michal’s turbulent relationship, he was not eager to add a woman to his household. “I have no time for a wife.”
“You will need an heir. And a woman gives comfort to a man.”
Was Michal a comfort to David? Physically perhaps, but what about a man’s other needs? Peace and quiet, a place to rest from trouble. “A contentious woman is worse than a bleating goat outside the window.”
“You like women.”
Jonathan grinned. “Ah, but they do not dance and sing around me as they do you.”
“They dance and sing around me because I am one of them, a common man, a shepherd, youngest of my father’s sons. But you, Jonathan. You stand as tall as your father, and from the gossip I hear, the women find you even more handsome. And you are the prince, heir to the throne of Israel. They wait at the gates in hope you will look at them, and when you do, they blush. You could have any woman you want, my friend.”
Jonathan knew women liked him. And he liked women. “There is a time for all things, David. Right now, Israel is my beloved. The people are my wife. Perhaps when we have peace—”
“It may be years before we have peace. The Lord said it is not good for a man to be alone.”
Jonathan sometimes longed for the comfort of home and family, but other matters must take precedence. “When a man loves a woman, his heart is divided. Remember how Adam sought to please Eve when she offered him the apple? He knew the Lord forbade it and took the fruit anyway.” He shook his head. “No. Israel holds my heart. When God’s enemies are driven from our land, then I will take a wife.” He grinned. “And I will stay at home for a full year to make her happy.”
They met each day, going out into the field for a few hours of practice with their weapons. Jonathan cherished the time with his friend and knew David felt the same. Out in the open, beyond the gates and houses, they could talk as they shot arrows and threw spears while their young servants retrieved them.
“Even with your success, we’re still far from winning the war.” Jonathan sent his arrow winging to the target. “The Philistines keep coming like waves from the sea. We have to stem the tide.”
“And how do we do that?” David hurled his spear farther than the last time and hit just off center.
“Philistine weaponry is far superior to ours.”
“We strip the dead of their weapons.”
“That’s not enough.” Jonathan shook his head. “When those weapons are damaged, we don’t know how to repair them. We can’t forge swords like theirs. And their spear tips and arrows go through bronze.” He took a handful of arrows from Ebenezer and dropped them into the quiver on his back.
“What’s your idea?” David hurled another spear.
“Find men willing to go to Gath.”
“And trade for the secret?” David asked.
Jonathan shot another arrow straight to the target. “The Philistines are too shrewd. They won’t share their knowledge easily. Someone would have to go and gain their trust in order to learn how to make their weapons.”
“A pity they know I’m the one who killed Goliath.”
“You’d be the last one they’d welco
me.”
“What about those men who lived among them before Micmash? They’ve returned to the ranks of Israel, but maybe a few of them would agree to go back and—”
“I don’t think they’d be trusted either. Would you trust a man whose loyalty was swayed whichever way the battle went? I don’t trust them.” Jonathan shot another arrow straight and true. “Move the target back! It’s too easy.” He turned to David. “The Lord could destroy all our enemies with one breath, David, but He told us to clear the land. I believe He did that to test our loyalty to Him. Would we do as He said? Our forefathers did for a generation and then lost sight of the goal—and of God.”
The servant called out that the target was ready, and Jonathan turned and shot his arrow.
“Dead center!” the boy shouted and gave a whoop.
“Move it back again!” Jonathan raised his bow. “We must teach the people to pray and then fight, but it would also help if we had stronger swords!”
Jonathan and David went out together to hunt Philistine raiders. Camped beneath the stars, David picked at the strings of his harp, playing a song of celebration over their enemies. “Why is it you never sing, Jonathan?”
Jonathan smirked. “God gives each of us gifts, my friend. Singing isn’t one the Lord saw fit to give me.”
“Every man can sing. Sing with me, Jonathan!” Some of the men joined him in urging the prince to give it a try.
Laughing, Jonathan decided there was only one way to convince them. David’s eyes flickered, but he said nothing. The other men sang louder, some grinning. When the song was over, Jonathan lay back and put his arms behind his head.
David continued to play his harp, trying out new chords and fingerings.
“The king will like that,” Jonathan said.
When they returned to Gibeah and dined with the king, Saul ordered David to sing for him. “Sing a new song.”