A SONG FOR DAVID

Flash fiction

Photo by Mateus Campos Felipe on Unsplash

A SONG FOR DAVID

Eli woke up with a groan. A shaft of light split the tent seam, shining directly into his eyes. He drew an arm across his face and uttered a silent curse. He was wide awake now. I might as well get up, he told himself. He pulled his tunic on and crawled out of the tent to piss. He took a rinse of tepid water from the sack hanging off a peg, spit it out, and paused, watching the sun come up over the hills. It was bright, the sky clear, as he put his hand up to shade his eyes.

He could see the king standing in front of his tent farther along the hill, and thought, What I wouldn’t give to sleep in there for just one night. He wondered what the King was doing? Was he looking at the enemy troops as they prepared to march out to the valley floor? Was he waiting for the Phillistine to shout out his challenge? Was he looking for a weakness somewhere, before attacking? Eli wished he could be anywhere else, but here. But as the eldest, he had to be both strong and forceful for his brothers. There could be no weakness shown—just like the King, he thought. He looked back at the small hide tent.

That’s my domain, he told himself.

He turned, looking at the dead fire, brushing at the ashes with a bare foot. They needed wood, he thought, and more water. He grabbed the bladder off the post and put it beside his bow and quiver, then opened the tent flap, flooding the tent with light. He waited until his two brothers sat bolt upright.

“Get up. It’s first light,” he said. “That bastard’s gonna issue his challenge again,” he said, sitting on the ground and slipping his sandals on his feet.

“Again? I’m getting a little tired of it,” Abinadab said. “Forty days? How long is this going to go on? And once a day isn’t enough, anymore? Now he’s got to come out at sunset as well? Can’t even let us have a restful night?”

“Eli! Eli!”

“Now what?” Eli asked. He stuck his head out of the tent and looked around. There was someone standing in a bright shaft of sunlight with a basket of loaves. He heard him call out his name again.

“Here boy,” he called.

“Send him away. We’re not fighting today. Tell them to go get someone else,” Abinadab said.

“Who is it?” Shimea, the youngest of the three called out.

“David,” Eli said, stepping out of the tent. “He’s brought food.”

“Thank you, father,” Shimea laughed, finding his tunic and crawling outside.

“Eli. Father sent me with some loaves and grain; he gave me some cheese to give to the officers.”

“Never mind the officers,” Shimea said, standing.

Eli looked down at his brother’s feet; Shimea had forgotten his sandals.

“Who’s watching your sheep? The Phillistines have been scouring the countryside looking for food,” he said, taking the basket and searching through it. “You left your sling in here,” he said, handing the boy the weapon. “You still practicing?”

“That’s why I’m not afraid of the Phillistines,” David scoffed.

“You should be,” his brother warned him.

“The Lord stands with me, Eli; He watches over me. He’s my shepherd.”

“You’re a fool if you believe that,” Eli said. “Your God has abandoned us.”

“He may have abandoned you, but he walks by my side.”

“Is that David?” Abinadab called out. “Is he going on about his God again?”

“Shouldn’t you be going home? You brought the bread,” Shimea said.

There was a blast of horns and David turned to look as the camp quickly came to life, with soldiers crawling out of their tents as the camp stirred. David watched his Abinadab slide out of the tent wearing little more than his tunic. They were all three quick to put on their tough leather armour and pick up their weapons. David followed them as they made their up the hill; the climb hot and difficult.

And there were the Phillistines. The valley of Elah echoed with the sound of their army, swords battering their shields as they stepped in unison. David watched as they came to a halt; someone loosed an arrow which fell far short.

“Are you not going to attack?” David asked, leaning forward to talk to the man next to him.

“Shut up, boy!” Eli said, pulling him back.

“But what are you waiting for?”

And then Goliath of Gath stepped forward.

“Look at the size of him,” David heard the man beside him say.

“The king promised his daughter to the man what kills him,” another man said.

“Is she worth it?” Abinadab asked.

“Is any woman worth dying for?” the man grinned.

“Why doesn’t someone step up? Is everyone afraid?” David asked.

“He’s twice as tall as the tallest man here,” Eli said. “And that sword? He never draws it. He uses that club he’s carrying, instead. It might as well be a tree.”

“If I was in this army, I’d fight him.”

“You?” Eli laughed. “You’re just a boy.”

“I’ve killed animals.”

“Cats and dogs don’t count as animals, boy,” the man beside him laughed.

“I’ve killed a bear. And a lion,” David declared.

“You really shouldn’t lie,” the man said.

“He’s not,”Abinadab said slowly.

“This boy’s killed a bear?” the man asked doubtfully.

“He has,” Eli said. “We didn’t believe him until he took us to see it. Our father was very angry.”

“Why?” the man asked.

“He might have failed,” Shimea said. “And then what?”

“Not with the Lord standing with me,” David replied.

“The Lord?” the man scoffed.

“He killed a bear because the Lord stood by his side?” The first soldier laughed. “Well, I’ve never seen your Lord on a battlefield, boy.”

“The Lord is always with me,” David claimed.

“Let’s see what Saul has to say about that,” the first man laughed, grabbing David by the arm.

“What are you doing?” Eli asked, stepping in the man’s way.

“The king might want a good laugh,” the man said. “What harm can it do? How old are you, boy? Fourteen? Fifteen? You can’t be much older, or else you’d be standing among us.”

“I don’t know,” David confessed.

“Doesn’t matter, I suppose. The King’ll still want to hear how you killed a bear, though,” the man said with a shake of his head.

“I’m coming with you,” Eli said.

“If you feel you must,” the man smiled.

“He’s my brother. Our father would never forgive me if something happened to him.”

“What’s going to happen? The King’ll have a good laugh. He deserves that much at least, don’t you think? He’s not a tyrant.”

  *

“A bear, you say?” Saul said, looking at the boy. “And you saw the animal?” he asked, looking up at Eli—the boy’s larger, taller, brother, scarred by unknown battles.

“I did.”

“What did you kill it with?”

“A rock,” David said, unwrapping the sling he’d tied around his waist. “And this.”

“At what distance?”

“Twenty paces.”

“Twenty paces! Impossible!”

“I’ve seen him hit a target at that distance,” Eli said.

“And you claim that you can kill the giant?”

“I can.”

“He’s just a boy, Lord,” Eli declared.

“A boy braver than any of you,” Saul laughed. “Do you know the price for failure?”

David shook his head.

“Slavery,” Saul said. “What say you to that?”

“I can kill him.”

“No! David,” Eli said softly. “Our Father would never forgive me if I allow this.”

“If you allow this?” Saul asked.

“He’s still my brother.”

“You yourself have said he’s killed a bear. You saw the beast. What else have you killed, boy?”

“A lion, and wolves.”

“Wolves? One’s not enough?

“There were several.”

“And you want to be my Champion?”

“I do.”

“No! I will not allow it!” Eli said again.

“You have no say in the matter. I’m the king of Kings, not you. Arm the boy,” he said to his slaves. “Give him my best armour.”

*

“I can’t wear this,” David said, unable to move with the weight of the armour. The sword they gave him was too heavy; he was unable to carry the shield because it was taller than he was.

“What would you have instead?” Saul asked.

“I’ll meet him as I am.”

“David, please,” Eli said.

“The Lord is my shield, and my strength, Brother,” David said softly, and picking up his shepherd’s hook walked down into the valley. Eli watched him, a tear falling down his cheek. It would be a noble death all the same, he thought. That little slip of a child was braver than all of them, he thought, as David paused by the stream to choose five smooth stones. He stood up, his sling hanging over his shoulder, the wet rocks in his hand as he watched the giant approach.

This is my entry in a Flash Fiction contest. Wish me luck! And vote by leaving a heart!