Chapter 12
The Desert Tabernacle ~ continued from Chapter 12 | King David
“What is your name?”
“I am Aron, son of Joshua.”
“I am David and this is Shimea, sons of Jesse, and our friend Yazan,” David said.
He noticed the man’s rough hands and a knife tucked in his belt.
“You are a fighter, yes?”
Aron took a large gulp of wine and passed it to David.
“Yes, I am a scout for the Assyrians. They pay me to scout the Hittites and Moab lands.” He wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “I cannot farm.”
“Neither can I,” David laughed. “But ambush, kill and take their weapons? That I can do.”
Aron nodded his approval.
The night fires were burning low and the cold settled on the ground and in the muddy paths that lined the war town. Drunken laughter rang out over the paths and disappeared. Lamps were slowly put out as the men shuffled off to the warmth of their beds.
“Where will we find you?” David asked Aron.
“I have to report tomorrow.”
Aron looked over and pointed to groups of tents that had been set up row after row to house the new recruits.
“Come with us in the morning.” David looked out over the sea of tents. “We are going to meet with Saul.”
The next morning a long line of new recruits stood outside the officers’ tents in the morning rain. They came from all over each carrying a farming tool or makeshift weapon.
“Next,” said the sergeant at arms as he pushed the men forward.
They were given a thin blanket and a leather helmet and were then rushed through and told which row in the tent city they were to be in. It had grown outward from the shacks and barns that filled the village.
David and Shimea stood shivering in the cold, damp air.
“Bloody rain,” Shimea said.
“But it’s dry rain,” David laughed and poked Shimea in the belly.
Yazan came up behind the two with Aron who had his head covered with his hood.
“Too much to drink last night?” Shimea asked. “Too much of everything,” Aron said.
He kept his head down and his eyes on the mud that became thicker as the line of men stretched farther and farther.
“Next,” the sergeant repeated. “Name?”
He did not look up from the parchment in his hands.
“David, son of Jesse.”
The man in full war dress and with a large knife tucked in his wide leather belt looked up.
”Lion Killer,” he sneered and drew his eyes up to David.
”I was there,” Shimea said.
“I kill lions,” Yazan said. “Well, I steal their food.”
Aron looked on in pain and simply wiped his brow with his hands.
“I may be sick.”
“Not here.” The sergeant pointed. “The ditch is over there.”
The sergeant walked over to the other officers huddled in the tent and they talked until he came back to David. The new recruits surrounded the fires trying desperately to keep warm.
“Next,” said the sergeant as he pushed the new men up and shrugged at David’s group.
“Go see Abner,” he said as he pointed to the tents ahead.
“Next,” he yelled at the men huddled together for warmth. “We don’t have all day.”
“Those blankets wouldn’t keep a dog warm,” Shimea said.
“I feel sorry for them myself. I want to take them home,” Yazan laughed. “Poor little orphaned blankets.”
“Please, enough talking,” Aron said.
The village of Gibeah was a recruiting camp and a sea of tents and supplies flooded into every stable and side street. Farmers from both Judah and Israel came by donkey, horse and on foot. Women and children were put on wagons bound for the safety of camps far from the front lines.
“I smell opportunity,” David said.
“War is death,” Aron said as he picked his way through the mud and rows of tents. “I’ve seen it.”
Yazan hurried after his three friends. “There must be 1,000 men.”
He tripped slightly on a tent line but managed to stay afoot.
“More,” Aron said.
“But the Philistines outnumber us five to one,” Shimea said.
“Just numbers,” Aron said.
Yazan laughed, “I like you, son of Joshua; I like you a great deal.”
“Stay out of my tent,” David laughed.
“Ha,” said David as he looked over at Yazan. “I don’t like big men, just the scrawny ones like you.”
He grabbed Yazan and put him in a headlock.
“Lion food.”
They scuffled until two soldiers walked past and glared at the boys wrestling in between the rows of tents that stretched from the village out into the fields.
“Boys play,” one soldier said. “Men fight.”
The group turned on the soldiers: Aron, Yazan and Shimea instinctively put David behind them and moved as one towards the soldiers.
“I’ll rip your tongue out,” Aron said.
Yazan quickly took his knife out from under his robe.
“Want to play?” his breath trailed off in the cold morning air.
Continue reading… Chapter 12 | Ark of the Covenant
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