I have spoken to all my servants, Jonathan. They will smite David before he steals my crown.” Saul said sadistically, and enjoyed the shock he saw on his son’s face. “I won’t be surprised if they assassinate him tonight.”

Jonathan could not speak and the hate in his father’s expression made him cautious.

“All my servants had the same reaction when I told them,” Saul continued. “What about this man makes you all adore him so? If I could, I would kill him with my own bare hands, but he’s loved by all Israel. The masses would see me dethroned for my evil deed, and we wouldn’t want that, would we, Jonathan?”

The king was quiet for a time, his wild eyes boring into the prince. He leaned in closer, and Jonathan flinched, though he held his father’s intense glare.

“Jonathan, prove to me that you came from my loins. Show me that my blood flows through your veins,” Saul whispered, and was silent for a second. “Murder him for me, Jonathan. He won’t expect it from you. He trusts you, and your dagger
will be like poison on honeyed dates. He will love the sweet taste, and when it’s too late, the venom will make his mouth foam, and his body jerk, and he will die,” Saul said smiling deviously at the image.

When his son did not react the way he imagined, he snapped at him, sitting forward on his throne. “He is going to take your inheritance from you, Jonathan! He will take my crown, and you and your descendants will be commoners. Do you understand that?”

Jonathan lowered his eyes. “How can you ask such a thing of me?” Jonathan had seen his father’s hate grow since he had tried to kill David. The notion that David would dethrone him had never left Saul. To Jonathan’s shock, he had learned that his father had privately harbored the consuming emotion of an ominous paranoia, and it had festered and swollen with time until it finally spewed bitterly from him. The king would not think rationally anymore and was dominated by his rage and resentment, fueled by David’s ever-increasing fame and success.

“That is why you are weak, Jonathan,” Saul sneered viciously. “Get out of my sight.”

Jonathan stared at his father in surprise. Feeling the sting of Saul’s words, he rose and bowed. “As you will, my king.” Saul ground his teeth and felt like slapping his eldest son. Saul hated all who dissented with him, and he was cruelly vocal in his bitterness.

You are paranoid, Jonathan thought sadly. David would have killed you by now if he wanted. You cannot prove your accusations, father. David is a good man.

The prince left without another word, slowing his pace, hoping that his father would call him back. Jonathan paused briefly as he reached the door, and when he was not summoned, he sighed in disappointment, and left the throne room purposefully.

Michal slept beside David, the sheets partially covering her naked body. He gazed at her, and then pulled the soft cloth over her shoulders. She was his wife, and it still seemed unreal to him.

He rose from the bed and before dressing, he moved to a clay jug and washed his body with icy water. Despite the blazing fire on the hearth, the room felt cold now that he did not have the blankets to warm him. Shivering, he dressed in thick woolen garments and wrapped a fur cloak around his shoulders. He made sure that Michal was warm and then left, looking at her again before leaving their home.

It was a fierce winter and the cold tore at his skin. Rain clouds threatened the city. As David rounded a corner, suddenly a man called out his name in a rough whisper and moved into a filthy side street. As he turned toward the voice, David unconsciously gripped his kidon, his fingers numb with frost, and waited for the man to appear from the darkness. The flames of torches greased with animal fat flickered in the cold breeze, and the moving shadows and sound of dripping water gave his surroundings an element of danger.

“David, it’s me, Jonathan,” the voice came again when the prince noticed David’s hand on his hilt. He was hiding in the black alleyway and called him into the darkness. David let his hand drop from the sword, frowning. Why would the prince
of Israel want to meet him under the cover of night in such conditions?

Slowly he walked to his brother and when Jonathan grabbed his upper arm, he knew it had something to do with Saul. Jonathan’s stare made him flinch slightly.

“Saul, my father, wants to kill you. David, I pray you, take heed until morning, and hide yourself. Stay in a secret place,” he said and increased his grip, hurting the captain’s arm. David stared at him.

“I will speak to my father about you. And what I find out, I will tell you. The barley fields, tomorrow afternoon.”

Jonathan walked past the captain, as if nothing had happened. David stared after the prince until the gloom of the street swallowed him.

He looked over his shoulder to make sure nobody had seen them, realizing the peril he was in. Abruptly, the place he felt safest, became unsafe for him, and his stiff fingers did not leave the hilt of his sword as he left.

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