slipped from my grasp, but my arm is long, and though we must search throughout Judah, we will find them.”
Abigail drew in a quick breath, certain Nabal had spoken loud enough on purpose for her to hear. He may have been drinking, but he still knew what he was doing. And if what he said was true, he was one of David’s many enemies who were looking to turn him over to King Saul. Which meant her parents and Daniel were no safer now than they were when they had served in Nabal’s sheepfolds.
10
Dawn crept over the rise of the Judean wilderness north of En Gedi. Daniel yawned, ran a hand over his beard, and squinted north and east. Sand covered the expanse in every direction, except for rare spots of green where trees dotted the valley floor, watered by floods and the spring that fed En Gedi on its way to the Salt Sea. His turn as lookout came with a heady sense of relief that David fully trusted him now, though to his chagrin he knew that trust would not have come as soon as it did without his mother’s quick convincing. David had a soft spot for a woman’s impassioned words.
Despite the slight embarrassment, the thought drew a smile to his lips. He’d done the right thing coming here. His son had been born that first month, and that fact seemed to lift his status in David’s eyes. In the year since then, he’d been treated with a certain respect.
He straightened, unable to deny the feeling of pride he still felt at having produced a son. Talya was a good mother, though his own mother seemed to think she needed a lot of instruction. He shook his head. The lookout post was a great reprieve from his mother’s clucking tongue.
Rustling sounds drew his attention, but it was only a pack of conies playing chase among the underbrush. He bent to retie a sandal and picked his way farther up the hill to the top of the ridge. If Saul and his standing army came this way, they would undoubtedly come through the valley.
He shaded his eyes as his gaze swept the road that edged the barren hills to the valley floor. He paused, squinted again, then moved closer, his heartbeat suddenly picking up its pace. The size of the group took his breath. Men stretched out across the ravine like a river of hungry locusts, Saul’s standard and the banners of the Israelite tribes waving in the wind.
He stepped back on instinct. Had the men spotted him? Had he compromised his family’s safety by coming here? How quickly doubt pressed in on him again. He knew Saul had managed to find David in the past, but somehow he hadn’t expected it here. This oasis had given them all such refuge among the caves and trees and in the refreshing pool and falls of En Gedi. He had almost become accustomed to safety.
Cautiously, he moved forward again and peered down at the Israelite army—Saul’s choice soldiers once loyal to David. He did a mental head count, marking their location. They would find David’s camp too soon. Their respite would be short-lived.
“How fast were they moving?” David crossed his arms over his chest and stroked his chin with one hand, his gaze meeting Daniel’s. He ignored the sinking feeling in his gut.
“They got an early start, as they were on the move at dawn. But it’s slow going across the sand with that many men. I’d say we have some time.”
“But not enough to move the women and children.”
“Probably not.”
The scent of baked flat bread filled the entrance of the cave where David stood. He clasped his hands behind his back, moved away from his small band of advisors, and walked to the winding road that led around the falls to the Crag of the Ibex. He pulled in a deep breath, then moved farther up the ridge to where the cave was hidden by the falls. He sniffed again and released a sigh. Good. The scent of the water masked that of the bread. But the sight of women drawing water from the stream and the children racing up and down the shore made him pause. They would be visible from a distance. The only
Abigail drew in a quick breath, certain Nabal had spoken loud enough on purpose for her to hear. He may have been drinking, but he still knew what he was doing. And if what he said was true, he was one of David’s many enemies who were looking to turn him over to King Saul. Which meant her parents and Daniel were no safer now than they were when they had served in Nabal’s sheepfolds.
10
Dawn crept over the rise of the Judean wilderness north of En Gedi. Daniel yawned, ran a hand over his beard, and squinted north and east. Sand covered the expanse in every direction, except for rare spots of green where trees dotted the valley floor, watered by floods and the spring that fed En Gedi on its way to the Salt Sea. His turn as lookout came with a heady sense of relief that David fully trusted him now, though to his chagrin he knew that trust would not have come as soon as it did without his mother’s quick convincing. David had a soft spot for a woman’s impassioned words.
Despite the slight embarrassment, the thought drew a smile to his lips. He’d done the right thing coming here. His son had been born that first month, and that fact seemed to lift his status in David’s eyes. In the year since then, he’d been treated with a certain respect.
He straightened, unable to deny the feeling of pride he still felt at having produced a son. Talya was a good mother, though his own mother seemed to think she needed a lot of instruction. He shook his head. The lookout post was a great reprieve from his mother’s clucking tongue.
Rustling sounds drew his attention, but it was only a pack of conies playing chase among the underbrush. He bent to retie a sandal and picked his way farther up the hill to the top of the ridge. If Saul and his standing army came this way, they would undoubtedly come through the valley.
He shaded his eyes as his gaze swept the road that edged the barren hills to the valley floor. He paused, squinted again, then moved closer, his heartbeat suddenly picking up its pace. The size of the group took his breath. Men stretched out across the ravine like a river of hungry locusts, Saul’s standard and the banners of the Israelite tribes waving in the wind.
He stepped back on instinct. Had the men spotted him? Had he compromised his family’s safety by coming here? How quickly doubt pressed in on him again. He knew Saul had managed to find David in the past, but somehow he hadn’t expected it here. This oasis had given them all such refuge among the caves and trees and in the refreshing pool and falls of En Gedi. He had almost become accustomed to safety.
Cautiously, he moved forward again and peered down at the Israelite army—Saul’s choice soldiers once loyal to David. He did a mental head count, marking their location. They would find David’s camp too soon. Their respite would be short-lived.
“How fast were they moving?” David crossed his arms over his chest and stroked his chin with one hand, his gaze meeting Daniel’s. He ignored the sinking feeling in his gut.
“They got an early start, as they were on the move at dawn. But it’s slow going across the sand with that many men. I’d say we have some time.”
“But not enough to move the women and children.”
“Probably not.”
The scent of baked flat bread filled the entrance of the cave where David stood. He clasped his hands behind his back, moved away from his small band of advisors, and walked to the winding road that led around the falls to the Crag of the Ibex. He pulled in a deep breath, then moved farther up the ridge to where the cave was hidden by the falls. He sniffed again and released a sigh. Good. The scent of the water masked that of the bread. But the sight of women drawing water from the stream and the children racing up and down the shore made him pause. They would be visible from a distance. The only
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