Dark clouds rolled across the sky as light rain began to drizzle over the lush green and rocky Vale of Terebinth.

The Israelites had assembled their forces and had already set up camp in organized areas when the military council gathered. Abner’s velvet cape flared out behind him as he strode through the rows of small tents, which were spattered with black mud from the Judean hills. At the center of the encampment stood the royal tent, surrounded by guards and bustling servants tending to the king of Israel. The tent was large, made from woven goat hair and layered with animal hide to withstand the elements. Two guards at the entrance, armed with spears and shields, saluted and opened the two flaps as the general approached. Without a word, Abner entered.

The interior was stately; the ceiling draped with silk and the floor layered with thick carpeting. Abner’s presence seized the council’s attention as he stepped inside. The general greeted the men with a nod and summoned a young servant with a flick of his hand. He moved to the king and kneeled. The general was a burly man with wrinkled sunburned skin and gray chest hair curling over his soft leather tunic, but the fire of life gleamed in his hard eyes.

“My king, I am at your service.”

“Please, my dear Abner, tend to yourself. This council needs you,” Saul said. Abner took a towel from the young servant and dried his face and beard. Throwing the damp cloth on the floor, he rose and joined the council of six men sitting on folding stools.

“The Philistines will not proceed. They wait for us, my king,” Abner said in a deep voice as he looked squarely into Saul’s piercing blue eyes. A large leather map lay spread out over a low, dark wood table, arranged with small blue and red clay figures representing the forces at war. Three men stood opposite Abner—Captain Ehud, Captain Ludim, and the strategist Ozra, all focusing their attention on the general. Abner moved alongside the table as he thought about their options.

Saul remained silent, running his hand through his thin beard.

Who will it be? Saul thought. Abner? It could be him. He regarded the general. His eyes shifted to his captains. Perhaps one of them, Saul considered. He had asked himself these same questions a thousand times, but he could never be certain. He feared that he would only know the snake in his midst when it was too late, and he would die a horrible death from its poison.

The king felt listless suddenly.

One of my sons? Saul thought, narrowing his eyes, his lips trembling. Jonathan?

“We should also remain,” Abner said confidently after a moment’s silence.

“Insanity,” the strategist cried out, jumping to his feet. The council was shocked that a man without rank would speak to the great Abner in such a tone.

“Our provisions are vanishing with each passing day and the soldiers are getting fat from doing nothing. And it is costing Israel a fortune in gold to wait.” Abner turned to face the thin man, trying to hide his anger behind a plastered smile.

“It is one thing to learn about war from scrolls, but trust me, it is an entirely different thing to learn it from experience, Ozra.”

The strategist snorted.

“It is clear that the Philistines want us to move out onto open ground so their chariots can cut through our forces.”

“I have already thought of that, good general,” Ozra said. The strategist removed his hands from the heavy folds of his robe, and indicated a spot on the map. He then rearranged the red and blue clay statues, and with this gained Abner’s full attention.

“Right there we will construct wooden spikes, protruding from the ground,” he said. Swiftly he moved the red ceramic chariot and the infantry soldier simultaneously to where he had pointed. “They will be well camouflaged by the dusty winds of autumn, and at the speed that the chariots race, the charioteers will not be able to see them. All their vehicles will be destroyed.” Ozra placed the red statue on its side, his eyes brimming with excitement.

“Naturally, their infantry will follow to clear out the last of our foot soldiers, only now there are no more chariots.”
Quickly he took hold of the blue archer, and slid it a short distance toward the red Philistine infantry. Abner’s face relaxed as the strategist continued. A young scribe sat on the left hand side of the king, writing on large piece of thin papyrus parchment rolled out on a small table.

“The archers take out the infantry and our foot soldiers will deal the final blow. Victory,” Ozra said.

“How can you assume that the Philistines will send out their mêlée troops directly after their chariots?”

“They will not expect us to be able to destroy their precious chariots,” the strategist replied. “They are too arrogant.”

“No. There are too many uncertainties. I will not risk it,” Abner said vehemently, his temper rising the more Ozra argued.

Shaking his head, the general asked himself why he was debating. He was second only to the king and princes of Israel. The strategist did not have any rank and had only been included in the council to give advice.

Ignoring the small man, he turned and faced Saul. “King Saul, it’s imperative that the army doesn’t advance. Our fortifications are well under way. If the Philistines dare come closer, our archers will destroy their troops.”

The king came out of his musing.

Ehud rose to his feet, “I agree with General Abner, my king. Their chariots are their only advantage and they cannot use them in a battle if we hold our position. Our infantry will destroy their men and we will have victory.” Ehud waited for Abner to agree.

“Unlike some people, Captain Ehud thinks before he speaks,” Abner said, annoyed, and the council laughed.

Ozra lowered his head in frustration as he tried to control his temper. He knew that if he were to lash out, he would certainly lose his position. He sighed in despair.

“With a king like ours, how can we not win?” Captain Ludim spoke above the whispers.

Saul sat back in his chair, still not saying a word. His eyes scanned his council as he thought about what little he had heard.

“I think it best if we hold our position. Our best option is to wait for them to make the first move. And besides, if God blesses us with enough rain, their chariots won’t be able to ride through the mud,” Saul said calmly.

“My king, I will pray for rain,” said the priest Ahijah, sitting at Saul’s right hand side.

“It is decided then,” Abner said.

Suddenly Saul’s eyes became blank, and his breathing heavy. Now looking into Saul’s face, the general did not look into those piercing eyes he knew so well, but instead saw something in his cousin’s eyes that he had not seen for a long time. It unsettled him.

“My king, what vexes you?” Abner inquired, concerned as he moved closer to the throne.

“The council is dismissed,” Saul said abruptly, holding the bridge of his nose between his thumb and finger. The men looked with amazement at Saul, frowning with uncertainty.

“But my king, we have so much more to discuss,” Ehud said after a brief moment of silence.

“I said leave,” Saul snapped, smashing his clenched fist down on the armrest of his chair. The servants and scribe bowed and hurried outside. Each council member quickly kneeled before Saul and left in silence.

Ozra irritably marched past Abner and was the last to exit, murmuring to himself as he left, “Dear and glorious Abner, one day they’ll know. I’ll show them, all of them.” He hated them for their mockery.

Abner was the only one not to leave. Saul did not say a word, and only stared bleakly ahead of him.

“Yes, the little worm irritated me also,” Abner, said with a straight face. Saul smiled at his cousin’s weak attempt at a joke.

“You know Abner, this is the first time today that I have smiled,” Saul said shaking his head. The king’s face turned somber once again as he sighed, feeling the weight of the world pressing him down.

“My sons?” Saul asked, weak with dejection.

“They should be two days’ ride from camp, sire. They will be happy to see you, especially Jonathan.”

“And I them,” Saul nodded in acknowledgment. “You’re the only one I can speak to, cousin. I have advisors and priests that I talk to, but although they listen, they do not hear.”

“I hear, my king,” the general replied and knelt. Saul ran his hands through his perfumed hair.

“Something is not right, Abner. I know it. I can feel it. For the first time in my life, I wake in the mornings tired, if I’ve slept at all. I feel …” Saul caught his words, clenching his jaw as he shut his eyes. He could not say it. “I hate what I’ve become.”

Saul’s face went blank. Abner could not stand to see his beloved cousin like this. In the past months, Saul had become a different person. “I shall not sit upon the throne for much longer, my dear Abner.”

“How can my lord say such a thing? I will personally smite the man that tries to take the crown from you,” Abner said passionately, angered by the king’s words. How could he be so weak? What had become of his cousin, the ruler of Israel?

“I am all alone. He left me, Abner,” Saul confessed. Looking troubled, he continued, “How could he leave? I have sinned against Jehovah.”

“Are you talking about the prophet again? Samuel is old and living in Ramah. Why does he torment you so? In all your days, will you not forget him?” Abner asked almost in a whisper, shaking his head.

“I will always think of him, Abner,” the king said.

“What happened? What did he say to you?” Abner asked, gripping the king’s hand affectionately.

Saul did not answer him. They can never know, he thought. He feared the rejection he would see in their eyes, and a pang of grief made his lips tighten into a thin line. He could hear Samuel’s words in his mind as clearly as if it had happened yesterday, and he drew in a sharp breath. Saul closed his eyes as if in pain and looked away. “I p-pray you, leave me to my thoughts.”

Abner rose and moved quietly to the tent flaps. He looked at Saul once more, and then left the tent. He has taken everything, Saul thought miserably. I have nothing left to live for. He has rent the flesh from my bones. I will never know true happiness again.

“But who is to replace me?” he whispered with an uncontrollable surge of anger.

Home | David: The Warrior King | Chapter Selection