Chapter 13
Saul ~ continued from Chapter 13 | One With The Lord
A few days later Michal gasped as she took the game of Senet into her hands.
“All the way from Memphis, from Egypt.”
The warrior priest smiled. The desert sun flooded into her room and scattered the darkness from the fat Scorpion’s mind and so he would watch over her, quietly sitting in the corner soaking in the warmth of the sun.
“I hear everyone at court plays it.” Michal hugged the game to her chest.
“I asked a trader to bring it,” The Scorpion said.
Michal sat down on her bed and drew her handmaid to her side.
“You play it on the board or can even scratch it in the sand,” he laughed.
“I heard that even the highest of the high play it,” Michal said and started to unwrap the game.
She stopped and looked at the bald priest.
“Is it true that boys there paint their faces and do their eyes and hair?”
“I hear it is true,” Sarah the handmaid giggled. “The boys do it.”
The Scorpion looked at the two girls as he sat cross-legged on a heavy reed mat.
He smiled, “Yes.”
The girls flew into a fit of laughter.
“Jonathan would be perfect for Egyptian court,” Michal said through tears of laughter.
Sarah grabbed Michal’s arm and held her hand to her mouth as she shook in a fit of giggles.
“Maybe you could get him in at court,” Sarah said to the priest.
“And he is a brave fighter, smart.” Michal tried to control her laughter. “I guess he has to be wearing that eye blush.”
The girls let out another howl of laughter and held onto each other. The Scorpion bent his head low as his face lit up with joy at the girls’ laughter.
Michal tried to control herself as she began to unwrap the game and the papyrus fell away. As she did this, a scorpion slid out of the paper and fell onto the bed. The girls shrieked and moved quickly to the edge of the large mattress.
“Shush,” the priest said as he went to the bed.
“It won’t harm.”
He picked up the tiny insect and put it on his thick, black robe. The scorpion crawled up his sleeve while the girls watched in horror.
“They are not evil but rather protect you from evil.”
“Is it from Egypt?” Michal said with her knees up still at the corner of the bed.
“Yes,” the priest said. “They are all the rage at court.”
He took the insect, put it on the floor and watched as the scorpion crawled into a far corner and disappeared.
“See, nothing will harm you now.”
The priest sat down in the middle of the room and looked at the two ladies.
“This game is not about chance but fate,” he said as he looked at both of them. “Perhaps we play later?”
“No, now,” Michal said.
“Yes, please,” Sarah agreed.
“We should wait,” said the priest as he put up his hands.
The women resumed their interest in the Egyptian game. The priest took the board and spread it out on the floor.
“We have 30 squares laid out in rows of ten.” He pointed out the rows. “Some squares have symbols others do not.”
The women drew close and finally sat on the floor overlooking the board.
“Senet means passing.” He picked up the knucklebones. “And so we see who passes through good and evil spots on the board.”
He threw the knucklebones on the board. At that moment Jonathan stepped into his sister’s room.
“And the first one to be blessed by the gods passes into the after world,” the priest managed.
“Games of chance,” Jonathan laughed.
He looked at the sun flooding into the room and the blue drapes that Michal had put up.
“Yours is the best room in this drafty old house,” he said.
“And now it’s protected,” Sarah the handmaid said.
“Oh?” Jonathan said.
“We have an Egyptian scorpion on guard.”
She looked into the corner of the room.
Michal grew brave.
“Yes, brother, they watch us day and night straight from the Pharaoh’s court.”
“Priest?” Jonathan said.
He removed his breastplate and handed it to a guard who stood in the hall.
“Life is a chance.”
Jonathan laughed.
“Yes, I suppose so.”
He moved into the room, picked up the knucklebones and rolled them on the board.
“Where is our David,” he asked. “We can roll our lives away at the chance.”
“It’s more about fate,” the priest said. “We should play another time.”
“David is right behind me,” Jonathan said. “He was getting a new tunic.”
Jonathan looked behind him to see David appear, his eyes on the board game in the middle of the floor.
“A game of chance,” David said as he came in and sat down in front of the game.
“More of fate,” said the priest as he grew exasperated. Jonathan laughed and also sat down.
“Tis our fate to play.”
“Close the door and drapes then,” Sarah said.
She stood watching while a guard closed the drapes and then left the room.
“Isn’t this fun,” Sarah smiled. “What trouble can we get into?”
“Sarah,” Michal laughed.
David’s eyes gleamed as he looked over the board at the different Egyptian symbols that he had no understanding of but that seemed to have an energy and tonality that he felt and absorbed.
“You pass between good and evil and onto many different and exotic adventures,” The Scorpion said.
The four drew closer as they felt the mystical board pull them.
“Maybe we should play later,” the priest whispered once more.
The Judean sun set low over the hill and highlands and the bedroom grew still with only the thick blue drapes heaving in and out with the evening breeze. The war camp seemed to disappear as did the mountains and hills; the soldiers’ voices and the animals in their pens all seemed to lose their importance and the foursome breathed into the intoxicating world of the unknown symbols that lay before them.
“Be very careful,” the priest whispered as the sun disappeared and the drapes heaved once more.
“Go first,” Michal said to David.
She handed him the knucklebones. David threw and watched as the priest put him onto a square.
“Here,” said The Scorpion as he placed David’s piece on a brilliant blue sun with bright yellow clouds.
“Come,” said the priest as he drew David close. “Look.”
A young David touched his satchel and walked quickly on the stony path that lay before him . He did not make for the market but went across the deep Boa Valley where the farmers had spread the terraced hillsides with grapes, figs and oranges. The sun beat down and spread its rays over the orchards and trees that dotted the rough landscape.
As David walked and as the sun grew stronger, a dark storm grew. He looked up at Mount Gilboa and saw a brooding cloud hovering over the mountain . He ran through the fields holding onto his satchel as it flew by his side. Then he stopped as his thoughts swirled around him; he sat under a large tamarisk tree that gave shade to those thoughts.
“The Sons of Light and the Sons of Darkness,” he thought as he pulled out papyrus scrolls and started to read:
“For the Instructor, the Rule of the War, the first attack of the Sons of Light shall be undertaken against the forces of the Sons of Darkness, the army of Belial: the troops of Edom, Moab, the sons of Ammon, the Amalekites, Philistia and the troops of the Kittim of Asshur. Supporting them are those who have violated the covenant. The sons of Levi, the sons of Judah, and the sons of Benjamin, those exiled to the wilderness, shall fight against them with [ . . . ] against all their troops when the exiles of the Sons of Light return from the Wilderness of the Peoples to camp in the Wilderness of Jerusalem. Then after the battle they shall go up from that place [and the king of] the Kittim [shall enter] into Egypt.”
David put down the parchment and looked out over the fields and valleys drenched in sunlight. He put his hands up to shade his eyes and wrapped his head scarf tightly around his hair.
In the distance on the stony path, dust rose higher and higher in the air and Rider flew down the plains.
As David looked over the valley, earth and sky were tied in a hot, dusty knot . The dust rose higher and higher as the traveler made for Egypt. The sand and thick air turned the peaceful valley into a furnace. The dust continued to rise on the trail as Rider charged up the steep hillside through the inferno and came to a halt on the path close to where David sat .
Rider, dressed in a purple silk robe and purple headdress, put his hands on his two empty water bags on either side of the great, white Arabian horse. He moved his veil from his mouth.
“Lord of the Sheep,” he called out.
David looked at the pathway and laughed.
“Lord of the Horse,” he replied.
“The messenger for Pharaoh Thutmose III begs to know where he may find a watering hole.”
“They are few in Bethlehem but travel ahead and you will be replenished.”
“Come closer, my friend,” the messenger said.
David rose and went to the path. The messenger put his arm on his jewel-encrusted saddle horn. His beautiful robe blew in the breeze as his horse whinnied. His spurs were made of the finest and sharpest iron. The whip was also jewel encrusted and had two rams’ heads that came together in a ferocious roar. His eyes were clear and bright and he smiled a beautiful smile that put the dust and heat at bay and cooled the hot valley.
David took a piece of flatbread from his satchel and offered it to Rider. Rider’s smile was an oasis. It was a calm that the boy had never felt before, not in his father’s house with his hostile brothers or in the village with the mocking peasants who threw their disgust at him. Oh how he longed for such peace. Tears ran down the young boy’s face as he looked at the beautiful Rider.
“I am the message,” Rider whispered as his horse reared up and he disappeared in a cloud of dust.
David looked around as the wind echoed across the dry plains and trailed off into the high country. He felt empty and turned to make his way back to the village but then saw Mount Gilboa brooding in the distance.
He was drawn to it and began wandering toward the mountain paths that his mother had shown him. The trails and rough bush were his secret garden: he knew that his journey would not be along the sweet and easy ways that some traveled but rather through the narrows of pain.
Each step up the high country made him feel more clear headed, lighter and stronger. He recalled the line of lepers and how sad and lonely they had looked.
“Only the ninth leper turned to thank us,” he thought. “Did they make it across?”
He secured his satchel around his neck and closed the leather strap. The wind and rain came down and he looked up as his face became wet. He felt welcome with the wind and rain, his father and mother, the high narrow paths, hearth and home. Each broken step and the forgotten path were an old friend receiving him after a long journey.
When he finally turned back, a gray veil covered the land and above a battle of light and dark raged over the mountain .
Continue reading… Chapter 13 | The Wicked Ninth
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