Chapter 2
The Lion and the Lamb ~ continued from Chapter 2 | The Lion
He gave her a knowing smile. She grew calm and held David tighter. Somehow she understood that her littlest boy would be safe among the lions and bears that stalked the hills of Judah.
“I will be on guard and my slingshot will protect the sheep.”
He rubbed again at his forehead where the rose oil was placed that afternoon.
“Take the boy out tomorrow into the hills,” Jesse said. “Show him the valleys but don’t go beyond Sharon.”
“Yes, Father,” Shimea said proudly.
Later that night, despite his exhaustion, David hid behind two saddlebags and underneath a bench, his ears straining to hear the urgent voices of his father and brothers who were in deep discussion.
They huddled around the fireplace and the din of oxen sounded in the background.
A goat bleated, “Bahhhhhh,” from below the mud floor of the small shelter.
“Light and darkness,” Jesse explained. “For what is light without dark? And he is all of these things.”
“Let there be light!” Shimea exclaimed.
“Yes, from the beginning,” Jesse muttered.
“The light?” Abinadab asked.
“The holy one is all,” the father whispered. “He is the light. He makes the colors that we see before our eyes and the darkness that falls on us.”
“And darkness?”
“Anger and judgment, that is darkness.”
Jesse let out a chuckle as he saw that Shimea had fallen asleep on the chair. The father scratched his beard and turned his attention back to his other sons.
David was heartbroken. The words were not so important as the way they were chosen in order to guide his brothers on the right path. He did not know his path and had no guide to lead him so tenderly along. He was alone.
The next morning David picked the largest stones from a clay jar and put them in his leather pouch. He tugged at his leather sling and buried his fear far down in his tunic pockets.
He looked out into the tiny, stone courtyard of the squat wood-beam house to see only the family goat rummaging for food.
“Shimea,” he called out. David ran up the outside stairs that led to the flat roof of beams, straw mats and clay top. The large family spent a great deal of time up on the roof with the gentle breeze and view of the Boa Valley.
“David, come.” His mother looked up as he approached.
She passed him a wooden platter of figs and dates. He ate a few and then looked at Shimea who was wolfing down his breakfast.
Dawn crept over the sleepy town of Bethlehem and the valley shimmered in the morning heat.
“Come,” Shimea said as he picked up his spear and threw his bow and quiver over his fox cloak.
Nitzevet put thick, fresh bread and figs into a pouch and bent to kiss David on the head.
“Mother,” he said as he pushed her away gently. “I am going to kill lions.”
Shimea ran down the rooftop steps, left the family dwelling and walked out into the cool morning breeze while the mist was gently disappearing from the vineyards and horse paths that surrounded the stony village.
“Bahhhhhhh, bahhhhhhhhhhhhh, bahhhhh,” broke through the still morning air.
The goat herder waved his stick and guided the animals through the village to the grazing fields above.
The dust rose and the bleating continued.
“Bahhhhhhhhhhhh, bahhhhhhhhh, bahhhhhhhh.”
Soon the village path was filled with animals and the air was thick with the foul smell of dirty fur and goat droppings.
“Bahhhhhhhhhhh, bahhhhhhh, bahhhhhhh.”
“Haw!” yelled the herdsmen as he guided the goats through
the narrow pathways.
He slapped one animal on the rump with his stick. The dust continued and the bleating grew almost frantic as the herd pushed its way through the thick air of the tiny village.
“Haw!”
“We will cut across the Boa,” Shimea pronounced.
Without another word the boys walked quickly along the narrow pathways of the town. The morning breeze swept them past the rectangular stone houses and from the northwest they looked out over the valley and hills terraced with orchards of figs and almonds.
Shimea stopped at the town’s stone well and pulled up the water bucket to fill his water bag. He splashed his face and the back of his neck before playfully dousing his younger brother.
A weather-beaten farmer looked on disapprovingly as his ox cart, clapping on the stone path, pushed toward the fields.
“Haw!” he yelled to the oxen as he pulled away out of sight.
The two ran towards the stone fence and past the last house as the dew clung to their worn leather sandals. Shimea ran through the open gates so their sheep would follow them past the olive orchards and upward to the pastures above the limestone ridge. David ran into the corral and went to the back of the fence.
“Haw! Haw!” he yelled to the sheep as they moved nimbly out of the gates and across the fields.
Shimea took his stick and kept the flock together with a few swings in the air and well-placed hits on the herd leaders. The animals obeyed as they traveled down the rolling fields past rocky pastures and through woodland trees and deep valleys.
The sun rose in the sky. A dusty trail followed them upward toward the high ridges that overlooked Bethlehem.
David came to the spot where he usually stopped. He took out his slingshot and quickly set up the targets he used to hone his skill. The rocky ledge was where the piece of wood went then the olive branch, battered and notched with previous hits, and all along the hillside evidence of another target. He counted to ten and then started to run quickly, his slingshot cocked and ready.
He somersaulted over a small hill and came up firing at the olive branch that took multiple hits dead-on and then he turned quickly, letting out a volley of shots that hit the wood and shattered it to small bits.
Next he dove into a thicket of brush and laid still on his stomach, taking deep breaths to slow his heart. He took aim and fired at a lofty branch 75 feet away and hit it straight and true. David then pocketed his slingshot and dropped to the ground. Balancing on his toes and using only the power of his arms, he raised his body up and down. He could now do this 100 times before a short rest. He wiped his brow and repeated the motions twice more.
Afterward he stopped and looked up at the sheep that stood in judgment.
“I will take aim at you and your mother!” he barked at a young lamb standing by her mother and chewing its cud. “Then we will see who is laughing.”
The lean, young boy sat down and drank water from his animal skin pouch before returning to darker thoughts.
“King of the goats!” he cried out into the hillside. “I am king of the sheep and goats!”
Continue reading… Chapter 2 | Brothers
[…] Continue reading… Chapter 2 | King of the Goats […]