David Ascendant Page 6

  They were a death cult. They were known for their sacrifice of children to their underworld god, Molech. Ittai had heard Molech described as the “abomination of the Ammonites.” Now he understood what that meant. He approached the high place and tophet where they had set up their siege camp. A tophet was the location of their burning of sacrifices. A large statue of Molech made of bronze sat with his arms outstretched. Beneath those arms was the tophet of fire.

  As Ittai stepped up to the high place, he could see the charred remains of children’s bones at the feet of Molech. Dozens of them. It was detestable evil. It sickened him.

  Apparently, they would place a child in the arms of this portable shrine and would burn the child’s body from the flames below. They called it “passing their sons and daughters through the fires of Molech.” What kind of people would do this to their own children? What kind of monsters would kill their own offspring?

  Images of what he saw on the field of battle haunted Ittai. He felt in a daze all the way back to Gibeah. He kept wondering what other atrocities filled this land outside of Philistia.

  He passed by some minstrels in the marketplace singing a ballad of King Saul. The music finally brought him out of his haunted stupor. After a battle, it was common for the ballad singers to glorify their king’s victory and laud him with praises.

  But these lyrics arrested Ittai’s attention. They reflected his own earlier thoughts on the king. They were praising the king’s handsome looks and physical stature. And then they went on about how he might be a descendant of the giants.

  Oh, lord our king,

  Our kingly Saul,

  Is mighty, brave, and surely tall,

  Head and shoulders above all men,

  Could he be a Nephilim?

  His beauty is heavenly,

  His eyes do gleam,

  Like Anakim and Rephaim,

  Heavenly host does give us nod,

  Is he our very own Son of God?

  As Ittai watched the minstrels, a contingent of royal guardsmen approached them and arrested the musicians. He knew that Israel was the sworn enemy of the giants. Was Saul really a Nephilim? Was he hiding his identity to protect himself or were the minstrels guilty of slandering the king to incite sedition against his rule?

  He might never find out. But in either case, it was clear to Ittai that no one should ever know his own true identity in Israel.

  Chapter 14

  In the heart of the sanctuary of Dagon’s temple, an assembly of gods took place beneath the torchlight. They ate the flesh of animal sacrifice provided by the Philistine priests and drank the blood for refreshment.

  The assembly consisted of Dagon the storm god; Ba’al, the son of Dagon; Asherah, the mother of the gods; and Molech, the god of the underworld. Molech was a peculiar deity. Because of extended time tunneling rock beneath the earth, his skin had grown calloused and pale, with heavy folds over his face. His eyesight was bad in the day, but a dark cave-like interior filled the sanctuary so his sight was just fine there. It was his rotting maggot odor that wrinkled the noses of his colleagues.

  Between the maggot stench of Molech, the fish stink of Dagon and the irritating flies around Ba’al, Asherah could barely keep herself from gagging. These male swine had no sense of hygiene.

  Molech had just escaped from Jabesh-gilead with intelligence of Israel’s new king.

  “What is his name?” said Dagon.

  “Saul ben Kish,” answered Molech. “He does not have a royal pedigree, or even personal achievements. The choice appears arbitrary.”

  “Nothing Yahweh does is arbitrary,” said Ba’al with bitter memory.

  Molech said, “He was rather comely. He looked the part to be sure. But the one thing that stood out to me was his size. He was head and shoulders above all the other Israelites. And he fought like a gibborim. He is a mighty warrior king.”

  Dagon said, “Do you think he could be of Nephilim blood?”

  “Categorically impossible,” said Asherah. “Yahweh would not anoint the Seed of the Serpent to rule over the Seed of Abraham.”

  Dagon looked again to Molech, “You say he was anointed?”

  “By their holy seer in a ceremony dedicated to the destruction of Philistia.”

  “Then he is their messiah king,” concluded Dagon.

  “Messiah?” Asherah repeated. “Why would Yahweh put his holy election on a nobody? Why make him the special anointed one?” She sputtered with irritation.

  “Just the same,” said Molech, ignoring her, “there is still something about him that does not seem holy. You remember Moses and Joshua, even Caleb. This one does not have the same spirit. He is more like Samson. Drawn to the very darkness he is sworn to fight.”

  Asherah said, “I can turn him to our advantage.”

  Dagon did not buy it. “Samson killed more Philistines in his death than in his life. I would not call that an advantage.”

  “Need I remind you,” said Asherah, “a great number of these Israelites are mine to sway. They worship me as the consort of their god Yahweh all through the hill country.” She added with a touch of proud glory, “Yahweh and his Asherah.”

  “Is it true?” asked Molech. “Has Yahweh cavorted with you?”

  “Of course not, moron. But I’ve got them believing it. They have teraphim of me, and have included my Asherah poles in their high places. I have unhindered access throughout their territory.”

  Dagon said, “Have you forgotten how easily Gideon overthrew you? No, if this is the promised messiah, we must release the Sons of Rapha, or we stand on the precipice of our defeat.”

  “Or our victory,” countered Ba’al. “If I may recommend, father, the Sons of Rapha are newly created. They are young and strong.”

  Dagon and Molech nodded. Asherah knew where Ba’al was leading them. She had after all been conspiring with him.

  Ba’al continued, “But they are inexperienced and unorganized as of yet. They need more time to organize, to prepare, to train. If this is the messiah king as we suspect, then he will be the most terrible abomination Yahweh has ever created. The Sons of Rapha will need to be at the height of their preparedness in order to be able to vanquish him.”

  Asherah added, “That may be our best course. But if we attack too soon, we could lose all.”

  Dagon paused, ceremoniously displaying his judging thoughtfulness. Then he said, “You make a good argument, Ba’al.”

  Ba’al concluded, “I humbly recommend we wait and watch. For years, if we have to. Use Asherah’s freedom there to spy. If what Molech says is true, and this Saul is corruptible, then we only increase our chances by uncovering and exploiting his weakness over time. If, after all, he is not corruptible and proves to be the messiah king, then our cult of assassins will be fully trained and fully capable of providing the means necessary for extinguishing his lamp.”

  “Agreed,” said Dagon. “Your counsel has proven most helpful, my son. My trust in you increases daily.”

  Good, thought Ba’al to himself, Because when you are the most unsuspecting, then I will gut you and filet you like the fish that you are. And with the help of Asherah, I will take back my rightful ownership of this land, and with it, the Sons of Abraham.

  “Good,” said Ba’al to Dagon. “Because when you are the most trusting, then I know our unity will be the only way we can win this War of the Seed and claim the territory we rightfully share together. Only by uniting can we defeat the enemy.”

  Asherah listened to Ba’al with relish and thought, Ashtart would be proud of you, my little cabbage head deity. It was one of the condescending nicknames she had picked up from Ashtart’s biting wit before she was entombed in Sheol.

  She thought to add one caution. “May I suggest you not tell the Rephaim of their true calling until they have reconnoitered enough intelligence to prove our suspicions.”

  “Brilliant,” said Dagon. She was looking quite desirable to him, with her huge matriarchal breasts.

  Molech
interrupted, “I hate to break up this orgy of love, but I need a theater of operation. I have had my eye on the Valley of Hinnom just outside the city of Jerusalem. It is unconquered territory and I would like to establish it as a key location to build my ritual furnaces. Do any of you protest?”

  The three of them looked at one another without objection. His lust for little children and passing them through the fire was disgusting to all of them. But every god had their own depravity and they wouldn’t judge him as long as he did not inconvenience them.

  Dagon said, “It is yours for the taking. But be available. We may need your help at any time.”

  “Of course,” said Molech. “Until then, I bid you all farewell.”

  Molech left. The others shared looks of good riddance.

  “We can all breathe without gagging now,” said Dagon to Ba’al’s approving grin.

  Asherah quipped, “I would not speak too quickly, my lord. The both of you are no less repugnant.”

  The male gods looked at each other with confused surprise.

  Dagon shrugged, and changed the subject. “I am feeling quite magnanimous,” he threw out. “Ba’al, I think I will give you your first city to rule, Ekron.”

  “Why, thank you, father,” said Ba’al gushingly. “That is very gracious of you.”

  “And you shall be called, ‘Ba’alzebul.’ It means, ‘Ba’al the prince.’ Under my kingship of course.”

  “Of course, my lord. I accept it willingly,” Ba’al said.

  Ba’al thought, But I will still gut you, skin you alive, and dance on your living carcass.

  Dagon’s tactic was an old one. Naming a person or place was an expression of authority or ownership over them. Dagon was simply reminding Ba’al who was boss.

  Dagon brushed a couple flies away from his face angrily. “These flies are truly annoying. If their presence persists, I may have to call you, Ba’alzebub.” Ba’alzebub meant “Lord of the Flies.”

  Dagon said, “Now let us call upon the Sons of Rapha.”

  • • • • •

  Goliath and Ishbi came alone to the sanctuary later that night. Dagon limited his presence to the highest officials of the warrior cult. And Dagon alone of the gods was present. He felt that including the other deities would only dilute his authority in the eyes of his devotees.

  Goliath and Ishbi knelt before Dagon, eager for duty. He had told them of Israel’s new institution of monarchy, and their first king, Saul of Benjamin.

  Goliath said, “A king would unite their tribes and make their military formidable.”

  “Indeed,” pondered Dagon.

  “What is your command, my god?”

  “Continue organizing and training the Sons of Rapha. But begin gathering intelligence on this Saul. He is a mighty warrior king and you will be fighting battles against him. You will need to know how he thinks, his weaknesses, his strengths.”

  Dagon looked at Ishbi. He turned his head as if feeling something odd.

  Dagon said to Ishbi, “You are the son of an Ob?”

  Ishbi bowed. “Yes, my lord and god.”

  “I can see it in you: familiar spirits. You are a strong asset to our cause. I salute you, Ishbi ben Ob, and look forward to your contribution. You have my blessing.”

  Ishbi bowed low again, “Thank you, my lord.”

  “Stand up,” Dagon commanded.

  Ishbi obeyed.

  “Turn around.”

  Ishbi obeyed.

  Dagon groaned at the beautiful physique of this specimen.

  “I can already think of one contribution you will give me.”

  Dagon shook his head free from his lust and concluded, “Now, let us train this guild of yours to exterminate Israelites.”

  Chapter 15

  25 Years Later

  Seventeen-year-old David ben Jesse played his lyre with skilled precision. The harp-like eight-stringed instrument felt heavenly in his practiced hands. He had quite a reputation in surrounding communities for being one of the most gifted musicians in the region. He could see that his singing plucked the heart-strings of his female companion, Miriam. She was sixteen and hauntingly beautiful to him. About as hauntingly beautiful as the last girl, Adah, or Adelah, or something like that – he could not remember – and the one before her, whose name had completely faded from his memory.

  He sang the lyrics of a royal marriage psalm. It was one of the best ways to woo a young girl’s heart. The female sex was easily spellbound with their romantic fantasies of royalty. He could see her melting. He first sang of the king in his splendor. The next lyric was about the bride.

  Hear, O daughter, and consider, and incline your ear:

  forget your people and your father’s house,

  and the king will desire your beauty.

  Since he is your lord, bow to him.

  He knew that singing of a woman’s desire to submit herself to a king would feed that sentiment in her toward his benefit. The power of musical lyrics could soothe a soul or inflame a passion.

  All glorious is the princess in her chamber,

  with robes interwoven with gold.

  In many-colored robes she is led to the king,

  with her virgin companions following behind her.

  With joy and gladness they are led along

  as they enter the palace of the king.

  Miriam moaned with delight through closed eyes. She was enraptured with this young shepherd’s angelic voice. She began to see herself as the virginal bride and David as her king to whom she should give herself.

  She barely noticed that he had stopped playing. It sounded like a mere selah, a musical pause. But the touch of his lips on hers opened her eyes her with a start.

  He smiled at her.

  She smiled back.

  They embraced with a passionate kiss. He held her tightly. It frightened her. She knew she was in trouble. She had lied to her parents, telling them that she was going to a gathering with the other girls of the village. Instead, she met with David out in the field where he was tending his family’s sheep. She did not know why she was so drawn to this troublemaker. He had a reputation for wooing the girls. But he was handsome with his long brown hair and beautiful puppy-like eyes. He was lean but muscular because he was also trained in war as most young Israelite males had to be.

  And he made her feel like a queen.

  Unfortunately, she suddenly realized what kings wanted to do most with queens. She had gone too far with her romantic fantasies. His hands wandered all over her, trying to open her tunic. She wanted to push him away, but she also wanted to fulfill her longing. She knew they were about to do something shameful, something that would ostracize her from everyone, something that Yahweh himself would not bless until marriage. She had been raised all her life to save her precious virginity as a prize for her husband. And if she did not, she could be divorced for it and shunned by her community.

  In spite of all these terrible consequences, she could not think straight. Her conscience screamed for her to stop, but her body screamed for satisfaction. She felt at the edge of a precipice. She should have listened to her parents.

  She gasped with fear, but she could not say stop. It made him even more aggressive.

  He said, “I love you, Miriam. I love you.”

  All she could get out was, “David.”

  He could not tell if her cry was an expression of surrender or of frustration. The ambiguity excited him even more.

  He was about to pull open her cloak when a noise stopped him, the sound of his sheep. It was an unusual sound. He knew the different sounds of his flock of several hundred. He could tell when they were content, when they were hungry, and when they were distressed.

  What he heard was the sound of fright. A predator was approaching.

  He looked over to the flock. He saw them moving north, up the hillside. They were trying to get away from something.

  David jumped up and grabbed his staff. He hissed at Miriam, “I will be right ba
ck. Do not leave. It could be dangerous.”

  Miriam pulled her cloak tighter around her body. She watched him leap into the mass of sheep like a heroic warrior.

  David trotted through the flock to the cause of their disturbance. He gripped his staff tightly, ready to use it as a weapon. This area was known for its wolves and bears that often preyed upon the Israelite herds. David had been training in preparation for serving in the Israelite army. But fighting animals was different than fighting men. Men had rules of war, animals did not. David’s experience with men did give him an advantage of a sort. There was another difference that empowered his experience: men were evil, animals were not. Animals killed to eat and survive, men killed to destroy and subjugate so they could be as gods, enslaving other men. Facing evil men was far worse than facing hungry animals.

  He found the origin of the disturbance. A chill went down his spine. He crouched and planted his feet in readiness. It was a predator he had not encountered before. It was a lion. It crouched thirty feet from him. It held the body of a broken, bloody lamb in its paws. It had taken its first bite of flesh, smearing its jaws with the blood of the little creature. When it saw David, it growled, and kept its teeth bared.

  David said a quick prayer to Yahweh for help. He glanced around swiftly. No companions to the lion prowled about. That was a blessing. Otherwise, he might find himself as the next meal served.

  He faced the monster with his staff pointed at it like a spear. The shepherd staff was deceptively simple, not merely used to keep sheep in line. In the hands of a skilled fighter like David, it was an efficient weapon that could pierce and pummel a victim. David also had a dagger in his belt, for closer attack.

  He set his staff down slowly to the ground, ready to pick it up if needed.

  He pulled out his sling, two three-foot-long leather straps with a pouch in the middle. He used it as both a hunting and fighting weapon. He reached in his stone bag and pulled out a rock the size of an egg. He set it in the sling and gathered both ends of the straps in his right hand as the rock dangled in its pouch. All the while, he kept his eyes on the beast that watched him.