David Ascendant
Chronicles of the Nephilim
Book Seven
By Brian Godawa
DAVID ASCENDANT
5.2b Edition
Copyright © 2014, 2017, 2021 Brian Godawa
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without prior written permission, except in the case of brief quotations in critical articles and reviews.
Warrior Poet Publishing
www.warriorpoetpublishing.com
ISBN: 9798710846827 (hardcover)
ISBN: 978-0-9911434-6-7 (Paperback)
Scripture quotations taken from The Holy Bible: English Standard Version. Wheaton: Standard Bible Society, 2001.
Chapter 1
The two naked young male warriors grappled in the atrium yard surrounded by rows of Phoenician columns. They wore nothing but loincloths in their rough sparring. They were Philistines in their home city of Gath on the western coastline of the land of Canaan. They exercised their perpetual pursuit of physical perfection and dominance as new recruits in the reserves of the army.
They were both Rephaim giants, but not yet fully matured. The elder, at eighteen years old, stood about seven feet tall. He was physically stronger than the younger one, who was seventeen and only six and a half feet tall. But he had more agility and cunning than his companion.
Aside from their size, they also carried the additional distinguishing trait of their antediluvian Nephilim ancestors: polydactylism, an extra finger on each hand and an extra toe on each foot, for a total of twelve fingers and twelve toes. This physical peculiarity aided their skills in battle by increasing their gripping span.
That gripping span of the older wrestler was being frustrated by the cunning trick of the younger.
“You slippery serpent,” grunted the elder. The younger had greased himself before their contest, making it difficult to grab his body effectively. He was always a step ahead when it came to strategic planning.
“I told you,” growled the younger, “Smarts over skill.”
“More like knavery.” The elder fumed with anger. He deliberately elbowed his opponent’s face.
The younger’s nose leaked blood. He tasted it and grinned. He responded with his own elbow to his elder’s chin.
The shudder of teeth cracking together splintered through the elder’s jaw.
It lit him up like a torch. He figured that the only place that wouldn’t be greased down on the younger’s body would be underneath his loincloth. So if his adversary was going to play dirty, then so would he. He grabbed the fabric and yanked at it, ripping it from the younger’s body.
“Who is the knave, now?” grunted the younger, with anger to match his rival. What had started as a typical competition of egos between best of friends was turning hostile.
The elder tried to grab his opponent, but the younger caught his hand, and responded with a rain of punches to his adversary’s abdomen. The elder grunted in pain.
The apparent weakness caught the younger off guard and he got flipped hard to the ground, stunned. He lost his breath.
The elder flipped his stunned prey around to face him.
The younger noticed that the elder was aroused. The elder slapped the younger hard in the face.
Then again.
The younger grabbed the elder’s hand and yanked him down.
They met face to face. Passionate anger turned to passionate lust as the two kissed as violently as they fought.
They rolled on the ground trying to vie for dominant position.
The elder flipped the young man around to his face on the ground and gratified his lust unnaturally with his dazed younger opponent. It was the prize for victory in this contest of warriors in training.
The sound of a Philistine war horn blended into the elder’s consciousness as he lifted himself from the back of his defeated partner. The call to war made him feel lifted up to the throne of Dagon in heaven.
But the voice of his younger companion, Ishbi ben Ob, brought him back to earth.
“Goliath! We are being called to war!”
Chapter 5
The Philistine forces lined up in the valley between Aphek and Ebenezer, where the Israelites were encamped. In the morning, the mysterious golden box that housed their malevolent divinities was paraded before the Israelite front line. The entire army gave a war shout that sent chills down the spines of the watching Philistines. They thought that the Hebrews were possessed by evil spirits let loose from the box. There were even murmurings among the ranks that these demonic gods had struck Egypt with plagues and that they might do the same to them.
The box was returned to the back of the army to be cared for by a cadre of their priests. The Philistine captains enjoined their men to take courage lest they become slaves to their barbaric enemies.
The Israelites could see that the Philistines’ were planning on overwhelming them with a massive blitz of their entire armed forces, including additional reinforcements. It was a total of nearly three thousand men. So, in response, Israel called up every man in reserve to counter that blitz with close to three thousand of their own.
In doing so, the Israelites called away the entire garrison that guarded the golden box in its own tent, leaving it and its company of fifty priests completely unprotected at the rear of the horde. Goliath and Ishbi had found a hiding place near there the night before, when they reconnoitered the troop movements.
As soon as the armies engaged in battle, all attention focused on the skirmish at the front line. The action left Goliath and Ishbi completely free to attack the priests. Goliath led and Ishbi stayed back to catch any priests trying to escape. They cut down the ones with ram’s horns first, so no alarm could be sounded. A few had arms with them, but the giants swung their swords in great arcs with such speed and power that they murdered all fifty of the holy men in mere moments. One Levite was able to get out of the tent and sprinted to tell the camp. An arrow from Ishbi’s bow took him down.
Inside the tent, they saw two remaining priests standing guard before the golden box, the one they heard the priests call the “ark of the covenant.” The two Israelites appeared to be important with their special blue colored robes and head miters on. When they saw Goliath and Ishbi approach them, the priests dropped their weapons, fell to their knees in fearful tears, and bowed low before the giants.
Ishbi’s familiar spirits told him these Israelite priests were actually worshippers of Belial, one of their own. Traitors to their god, he thought with curious amusement. But then the spirits left him in a frenzy.
One of the priests cried out, “Please don’t kill us. We are the sons of the high priest, Eli. We are Hophni and Phi…”
Goliath’s sword cut them both in half before he could finish his pleading.
The giants stood before the gold box. It was small for such an important relic, only about four feet long and three feet wide and high. It was carried with two long poles that passed through rings on the bottom of the ark.
It was a curious artifact that sported two cast sphinx-like Cherubim images on the top. Goliath knew that Cherubim were the symbolic hybrid guardians of royal thrones as their own lord Achish had such images at the base of his throne. It seemed like a portable throne chariot to them.
Ishbi approached the gleaming box and reached out to touch one of the two winged guardians on its lid.
“Stop!” shouted Goliath. “You may release the deity inside.”
Ishbi stopped inches short of the object.
Goliath concluded, “These carrying poles are obviously safe enough for us to grab hold. Quickly.”
Ishbi wiped his slippery, bloody hands on his battle skirt to get a good grip. They hoisted the ark up. It was a featherweight to their muscular Rephaim arms.
They left the tent. But before they ran, Goliath grabbed hold of the large tent fabric and pulled with all his might. The entire structure came down like a death shroud onto the corpses. He wanted to take the opportunity to leave an insulting statement to complement their theft of this most holy and precious idol.
Within moments, they were sprinting back out into the forest that surrounded the valley. They made a wide arc away from the battle, circling back to their camp.
It had been so easy. The weakness of resistance they had encountered surprised Goliath. This Hebrew deity was pathetic if this was all he would muster to protect his little throne, his meager magic box of residence.
By the time the Israelites noticed that their camp had been ransacked and the ark stolen, Goliath and Ishbi were already safely behind their own lines.
The Israelites sounded a horn. Word spread that their precious idol had been taken. It caused such despair that their unity broke down and their forces melted away in cowardice. It was as if the absconding of the ark had been the bursting of a lung that sucked them all away like a rushing wind.
By the time the Philistines had secured the valley and the city of Ebenezer, thirty military units of close to five hundred Israelite warriors had been slain. The Philistines chased the fleeing Israelites twenty miles back to Shiloh where the tabernacle of Yahweh resided. They destroyed the city and burned the sacred tent to the ground, slaughtering the Levite priests who lived there.
The Israelites had lost the central symbols of their faith and their hope of unity.
Goliath was right. No one had anticipated such a bold and risky move. But he and Ishbi had changed history.
They were heralded as gibborim, and given a hero’s feast and reward ceremony. They were also given the glorious honor of accompanying their golden booty back to the chief city of Ashdod. But through all the celebration, Goliath was haunted by the memory of how easy it had been to capture the magic box of deity. The thought occurred to him that this may have been a set-up.
Chapter 8
Goliath and Ishbi were in the middle of exercises when they noticed Ittai waving to them just outside the practice area. They ran over to him.
Goliath said, “Ittai, this had better be important.”
“Your brother,” said Ittai. “He has the curse.”
Goliath and Ishbi received a release to go home. As they ran through the streets, they dodged scurrying rats. They heard screams and cries of stricken citizens throughout the city.
When they arrived, they found Warati attending to Lahmi at his bedside. Lahmi was delirious and drenched in sweat.
Warati said, “He has a deadly fever.” He lifted Lahmi’s arm and they saw black boils in his armpits. “They are also around his groin.”
“Yahweh be cursed,” grumbled Goliath.
Lahmi groaned.
“What can we do?” said Ishbi.
“Pray,” said Warati.
Ittai blurted out, “To which god?”
They stared at him.
He honestly did not know if they meant to appease the god who had struck their beloved Lahmi or their own god to undo the curse. He wasn’t sure which was greater.
“Dagon, of course,” Goliath shot back. There was no other option for him. His hatred of the Israelites and their deity ran so deep that he would never entertain anything other than defiance to the end against such a malicious being so full of evil.
Glaring at Ittai, Goliath noticed that Ittai was sweating and dizzied. He was about to ask him if he was all right, but Ittai beat him to the question. The youth fell to the floor in a dead faint.
When he awoke, Ittai discovered he was being carried by Ishbi through the streets.
His head swooned. He could barely understand what was going on.
“Where am I?” Ittai croaked out. “Where is Lahmi?”
“Goliath is carrying him ahead of us,” said Ishbi. “We are taking you to the temple to plead for mercy and healing.”
In his delirium, Ittai’s thoughts were confused about which god was which.
He sputtered, “May Yahweh have mercy on us all,” and he blacked out again.
Ittai came back to consciousness for another moment.
They passed by a long line of Gittites holding and carrying their sick loved ones.
He heard someone call out to them, “Get in line like the rest of us!” And another, “Not fair!”
They arrived at the head of the line. Ittai could see the grand stone pillars and cornice of the temple.
He saw Goliath’s back, carrying Lahmi. He heard him say to a priest, “We are highly decorated gibborim, and if you wish to keep the skin on your body, you will let us pass.”
Ittai saw them pass through the lead pillars and into the darkened interior.
He blacked out again.
Ittai did not awaken the rest of that day. He entered a comatose state, along with his friend Lahmi. Goliath and Ishbi feared they would never awaken.
The temple was of standard Phoenician design, rectangular and made of stone. Priests entered a long walkway lined with pillars on either side, and moved past various side rooms of offerings and storehouses. This was where devotees were sometimes allowed. It was called the outer court.
Behind the curtains at the end of the long hall was the sanctuary or Holy of Holies. Behind that curtain, only the priests were allowed. It was a smaller area, just large enough for a dozen or so priests to congregate. The centerpiece in the sanctuary was the “high place,” an altar raised about eight feet above the floor with ascending steps where the priests would offer sacrifices before a diorite image of Dagon, a replica of the one destroyed at Ashdod.
Here in Gath, the Philistines did not place the ark in this temple as they had at Ashdod. They did not want another embarrassing power encounter to discourage their people. They hid the box in a non-descript home on the outskirts of the city.
Goliath and Ishbi laid the two lads on the altar at the feet of the image.
For the only time in his life, Ishbi saw Goliath weep. He knelt over his brother and let out a guttural growl of anguish.
“Dagon, hear my cries. We captured the Israelite idol. We offered it to you as a sacrifice. We did for you what no other Philistine had the courage to do. We risked our lives for your glory.”
Ishbi was a bit more honest in his understanding. He knew they had done it for their own glory.
“I vow to you that if you heal my brother, I will devote my entire life to you. I will dedicate every ounce of my being to the complete annihilation of the Hebrews and their dog of a god.”
“Dog” was a Semitic derogatory reference to male cult prostitutes. They were considered the weakest of all creatures because they were submissive males in a patriarchal culture. Goliath and the rest of the males in the society abused them with contempt.
“I unite with my brother in arms in his vow,” added Ishbi.
Goliath looked over and placed his hand on his companion’s shoulder in solidarity. Ishbi grasped Goliath’s as a warrior would in facing death together.
In their focus on familial love for Lahmi, they had again overlooked the need to plead on behalf of the tagalong runt Ittai. They had brought him to the temple, but they did so as an afterthought, as one would remember to bring a child’s beloved pet.
Suddenly, a wisp of air rushed through the sanctuary. Goliath and Ishbi heard a whisper from the image.
“Goliath.”
They looked up, shocked.
The flickering torchlight made the shadows dance across the stone image giving the illusion of movement. But it was only an illusion. The purpose of images was to be a physical vessel for the earthly presence of the heavenly deity. The devotees would “call down the breath” of the god into the image as a representative of the god. Evidently, that breath now spoke to Goliath.
“Yes, my lord and god. Your servant listens.”
Ishbi’s eyes went wide open in astonishment. The two boys remained prone and unconscious on the altar.
The air went dead. Goliath heard no response. He could only hear his and Ishbi’s anxious breathing. His heart beat heavily in his chest. The smell of fish penetrated his nostrils. Was that the remaining odor of sacrifices?
Perhaps it was just his own delusion, created out of the grief of losing his dear brother. But Ishbi had heard it too, had he not?
Goliath looked at Ishbi. Ishbi did not return his gaze. He stared like a statue frozen in fright at the image of the god.
Goliath followed his gaze.
He saw a shadow glide out from behind the image. It stood eight feet tall. Goliath now knew the aroma was not from sacrifices but from the god who consumed them.
That god now stood before the prone children and kneeling warriors. He was frightening. He did not have his lower fish half like the image did. He was fully humanoid, but clearly not human.
Goliath could see the pale scales of the deity’s greenish-white and slimy skin glitter in the torchlight. He was clad only in loincloth and carried a trident. His musculature was broad and well built. He wore a golden ring to crown his elongated skull. He had deep inset eyes with black lips. And his breath stunk of rotted fish guts.
Goliath felt vomit rise in his throat. He pushed it back and swallowed.
“So, the young and mighty gibborim dedicate their lives to my glory, if I will but heal their precious little boy loves.”
“Yes, my Lord,” blurted Goliath.
Ishbi thought it was strange that the god would misspeak about Lahmi and Ittai. They were not their boy loves. Did the deity not know that Lahmi was a sibling and that Goliath and Ishbi were warrior companions?
Dagon said, “Well, I have heard your prayers, and I must say I am moved. Your ambition has brought you renown. You have caught my interest.”
Another odor drifted into Ishbi’s nostrils. It was the rancid smell of rotting flesh. He brushed away a couple annoying flies buzzing around his head.
Dagon spoke to the both of them, but his attention was more on Goliath than Ishbi. He said, “Goliath, you are of the Rephaim. A descendant of the antediluvian Nephilim. Do you know your heritage?”
“I know only that the Nephilim were the children of gods and men.”
Dagon continued, “You are a demigod. And you carry their royal blood. You are both from a chosen line that goes all the way back to the Serpent.”
Goliath and Ishbi grew more interested with every word. The Serpent was well known and worshipped throughout Canaan. They knew him as the giver of wisdom and eternal life.
“But do you know why the gods chose you?”
“No, my lord,” said Goliath.
“Because as the seed of the Serpent, your kind are the hope of the gods. In the primeval Garden, mankind’s ancestors were enlightened by the wisdom of the Serpent. But Yahweh, a jealous, petty, and wrathful creator, cursed the humans and cast them out of the Garden of eternal life, so that they could not achieve their birthright of godhood. The Nephilim were our attempt to unite heaven and earth in one flesh and reclaim that divinity. But Yahweh declared everlasting enmity between the Seed of the Serpent and the Seed of Eve.”
Goliath now knew in his heart why he hated this god of Israel so. It was in his bones.
“It has been Yahweh’s deliberate intent to conquer and steal this land of yours using his allotted rodents, the Israelites.”
Dagon conveniently avoided explaining the failure of the antediluvian battles of the Nephilim titans in the Titanomachy, Gigantomachy, and the War on Eden. But he could still spin the rest of the story to his own end.
“Yahweh showed his vindictive and monstrous tyrannical impulse when he tried to wipe us all out with the Great Flood. But he could not. He killed his own creation and violated Mother Earth, but he could not eliminate goodness. He tried to one more time in the Great Fire of the Plains.” This was the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah and the five cities of the Plains with fire and brimstone during the days of King Arba the Great, progenitor of the sons of Anak. Goliath and Ishbi had learned that much.
“Then he sought to exterminate you as if you were vermin, by invading our land and putting every last one of you to the sword; man, woman and infant.”
Despicable, thought Goliath. What kind of a god kills innocent women and infants? His own slaughter of Israelite women and infants was different. They were not innocent.
Dagon crowed, “But again, he failed and now you are the last of the descendants of the giants. You are the last of the Seed of the Serpent.”
There were a few hundred giants interspersed throughout Philistia that he knew of. He thought of them as survivors of a holocaust of hate. An unusually large number of them resided in Gaza. The Rephaim were originally one of several giant clans, including the Anakim, the Emim, the Zuzim and others. But after the Holocaust, Rephaim had become the generic term for all surviving giants.
Ishbi spoke up, “But why have our myths and sacred stories not taught us of this tale? Surely, all of Philistia needs to hear of this travesty.”
“No,” said Dagon. “This is secret knowledge. Reserved exclusively for those most capable and worthy of handling it.”
The implication was obvious. Goliath and Ishbi were being considered capable and worthy of this high honor.
Goliath said, “Capable for what, mighty Dagon?”
“I want you to create a secret order, a cult of warriors devoted to the calling of the Rephaim for the destruction of the Seed of Eve, Israel.”
A grin spread across Goliath’s face. He was only eighteen years old, but he knew instantly that this was what he had been seeking for his entire life. He knew he was born for this.
Ishbi knew it too.
Dagon continued, “You will call it the Yalid ha Rapha, the Sons of Rapha. They are to be an elite fighting force that will unify and lead the rest of the Rephaim giants in the territory on a singular quest. Choose only the finest young warriors as your captains, giants you can trust.”
“When shall we strike, mighty god?” asked Goliath with characteristic impatience.
“First you must build your leadership, grow in numbers, and train your warriors. Yahweh is diabolical and more prepared than you can possibly know.”
“But how long will it take?”
“Patience, Goliath. I will let you know when the time is come.”
Goliath skulked. Vengeance was bitter in his mouth, and he wanted to spit it out as soon as possible, not suck on it for years. But the gods knew better.
Dagon put him in his place. “Goliath, you are a mighty warrior. But you are young. You have much to learn, and so will your companions. You know not the machinations of the enemy. But I do. And only through careful and deliberate planning can we have the hope of accomplishing the goal.”
“Yes, my Lord and god,” cowed Goliath.
Ittai groaned and moved on the floor. With all his attention focused on Dagon, Ishbi had forgotten the two boys and why they had come here to begin with. He said, “And the boys, my Lord, shall we leave them with you for their healing?”
“I have heard your petitions. You may take them with you. I will make no promises regarding the lives of these boys. If I am pleased with you, I will save them. But if I find any displeasure in your devotion – anything at all – I may change my mind.”
“Yes, my Lord,” said both Goliath and Ishbi. They solemnly picked up the two lads and left the sanctuary with hope in their hearts – and vengeance on their minds.
Dagon watched them leave. Then another god stepped out from behind the image. He was the same height with same elongated skull as Dagon. But he had the beginning growth of bull horns on his head and his body was massively built with muscle.
It was Ba’al, the storm god of Canaan, son of Dagon.
But he was not the only one.
Another deity followed him to complete this trinity of terror. Her name was Asherah. Unlike Ashtart, the infamous goddess of sex and war that had been svelte and sinewy of form, Asherah had a more buxom figure. Whereas Ashtart ruled through terror, Asherah ruled through cunning. Ashtart fought the Israelite invaders of Canaan, but Asherah seduced them. She also had pride of station as the consort of the supreme god El and “mother of the gods.” The seventy Sons of God who were over the nations, were considered her sons by the Canaanites.
Ba’al had washed ashore on the banks of the coastal island of Tyre in northern Canaan. “Lady Asherah of the Sea” as she was also called, was patron goddess of Tyre and Sidon. She was also sometimes called “the Serpent Lady,” as she often carried snakes wound around her neck or body.
She had taken Ba’al in and helped him on his long journey back to health. Though he had lost his previous status, she knew his potential and how he had risen in power the first time to the position of Most High. She remembered how he was the only god who had bested Ashtart the ruthless goddess of war. Canaanite legend had it that Asherah also persuaded El to allow Ba’al to rebuild his temple on Mount Sapan. By supporting Ba’al, she would be backing the mightiest god of the pantheon and would ensure her own co-regency over the territory.
As a divine being, Ba’al could not die. But he had heavenly flesh that could feel pain. So when he was imprisoned in the molten earth below, his physical body had been completely burnt through to a crisp. The pain had been excruciating and carried with it a searing desire for revenge on the creatures who sent him to his prison: the archangels of Yahweh.
Healing of such divine flesh was usually rapid, but because his damage was so thorough and deep, it had taken him weeks before he regained his previous strength, and more before the charred scarring all over his body had disappeared. One of the strange things that did not disappear was the flies. When Ba’al’s flesh was burnt, it drew flies wherever he went. But strangely, even after he had long healed, the annoying presence of flies never left him.
Ba’al had once been the uncontested high god of Canaan. But with his dethroning absence, Dagon had gained the territory with the approval of the assembly of gods and had grown strong through Philistine power. Ba’al could not simply come back and claim what he had lost without the assembly’s backing, and that would require some political maneuvering beyond brute force. In a political maneuver of his own, Dagon made Ba’al the “Son of Dagon,” to keep him in mindful check of which cock ruled the roost now in Philistia. Unfortunately, that ruling did not include miraculous healing powers.
“What if the boys die?” asked Asherah “You promised to heal them in exchange for their devotion. Our magic is of no effect on Yahweh’s curse.”
“Not true,” argued Dagon. “I said I would consider healing them, or I could change my mind.”
Asherah quipped, “Plausible deniability. Clever.”
Dagon said, “What say you, Ba’al?”
Ba’al was pensive. He responded quietly and submissively, but with confidence. “I say we cannot afford to lose our warrior cult. We are too close. But I think the Old Lady should remember who is Prince of this territory and support his strategy.”
Dagon smiled. Asherah frowned.
Dagon slapped Ba’al’s back. Ba’al winced with irritation.
“Sorry about that, son,” said Dagon with relish. “I will leave you two to your lover’s quarrel.”
Dagon left them and disappeared behind the image in the tunnel that led to his debauchery.
Asherah sighed. She muttered under her breath, “Must you insult me in front of the fish?”
Ba’al looked back to make sure Dagon was gone.
“I am supposed to be his vassal god,” he whispered. “How do you expect me to act, like I am planning on taking over Canaan with My Lady of the Sea? If he suspects for a moment, he will squash our plans before they have had time to mature. A little groveling on your part might help with the distraction.”
She sighed again. He was right. They could not afford to be discovered before they could gain their audience with Mastema, the serpent overlord of Canaan. Without Mastema’s blessing, they would not stand a chance in Sheol with the assembly. Ba’al could take back Canaan by force, but he preferred to do it legally so he would not be at odds against the rest of the pantheon. More importantly, Mastema was a brilliant legal mind who could ruin Ba’al in the heavenly court if he wanted to.
“Have you any news of Mastema’s whereabouts?” said Asherah.
“Unfortunately, he remains in Assyria and Babylon, with no hint of a soon return. He is preparing for something big, but only Yahweh knows what.”
She said, “Mastema frustrates me. He works on his own time scale and lords it over the rest of us in the pantheon.”
He said, “Well, then we accommodate to his schedule and maintain our course with patience and calculation. In the meantime, I suggest you consider some groveling toward Dagon.”
“Ugh,” groaned Asherah. “Distractions, distractions. Just remember what sacrifices I made to support your return to power.”
He looked her up and down. “And I expect many more sacrifices to complete my gratification.”
She rolled her eyes and left him to seek out Dagon. “By the way, I like the horns. Nice touch.”
Chapter 12
A horn had called all the citizens to the town square in the middle of Mizpah. The square was packed tight with Israelites, most of whom had travelled to this little town from all over the hill country. There were the elders and the clan leaders, all delegates representing the interests of their tribes and their allotted lands.
In the crowd, Ittai and Micah were close enough to be able to see the faces of the tribal elders on display at the podium in the center of the square.
The assembly went hushed when an old man in long gray hair stepped up.
Micah whispered to Ittai, “That is Samuel the Seer.”
Seers were the spiritual advisors of Israel. The Israelites were unique amongst their neighboring nations in that they did not have a king. Micah had explained to Ittai that they had been ruled over by judges and elders for hundreds of years because their god Yahweh was their king. The judges were both military leaders and civil governors of the twelve tribes. They led them in some victories over the Midianites, Moabites, Ammonites, and Philistines. They had secured the highlands of Galilee, Samaria, Judah, and Gilead east of the Jordan. But the Philistines retained the southern and central coastal plain along with the Shephelah. Other Canaanites held the northern coast, the Valley of Jezreel as well as Jerusalem and other territories. As a confederacy, Israel suffered disunity and conflict among its diverse tribal interests and squabbling. While elders and judges led the civil and military affairs, they were often spiritually advised by seers. Samuel seemed to be a significant one.
He also seemed to be an angry one. When he spoke, he struck Ittai as a man who was very annoyed at not having things done correctly. It was strange that such a short-tempered sourpuss would have so much influence over a people. Maybe this was why Israel had so many troubles. Or maybe Israel was such a troubled people that it drove this seer to frustration.
“Hear O Israel,” announced Samuel. “You have been gathered together before Yahweh by your leaders of thousands because you have sought a king to reign over you. You have said, ‘Let us have a king like the nations around us!’”
He paused. The crowd was amazingly quiet to Ittai. He had never seen them so. They truly listened to this Seer.
“Thus says Yahweh, the Elohim of Israel: I brought you out of Egypt and delivered you out of the hands of your enemies, the Egyptians, and all the nations who have oppressed you. I have been your king. Yet now you cry out, ‘We have no king. Set a king over us like the nations have.’ This day, you have rejected Yahweh who is your king.”
The crowd now murmured with agitation.
“So Yahweh will give you what you want. Just as he gave the meat for you in the wilderness and the water from the rock when you grumbled and complained. Now you cry out for a king to deliver you from the hands of the Philistines. But you will be sorry for wanting to be like the nations. Yahweh will appoint a king over you. And he will take the best of your daughters to be his servants and will conscript your sons to war. He will take the best of your fields and vineyards. He will take an oppressive tenth of everything you produce as a tax. You will complain to Yahweh, but it will be too late, and you will deserve what you get when you get what you have demanded.”
Another moment of angry silence from the Seer washed over the crowd.
He belted out, “Yahweh has confirmed his choice by sacred lots!” Murmurings around Ittai sharpened his attention even more on the scene before him.
The Seer announced, “Bring forth Saul ben Kish of the tribe of Benjamin!”
The murmuring rose to a cacophony of mixed reactions.
But no one came forward.
The crowd’s noisy chatter heightened. Ittai could see the Seer barking orders to those off the platform.
Then a man stepped up. The clamor settled. This must be the man. But to Ittai, he looked as if he didn’t want to be there, as if he were afraid.
What a strange choice for a king, he thought. The man was actually quite handsome. The kind that Ittai had seen women swoon over. He stood a full head and shoulders taller than any of the other Israelites. Ittai guessed him to be about six and a half feet tall.
The thought could not help but come to Ittai’s mind, Is he a Rapha? Rephaim were usually taller by this man’s age of about thirty or so. But then again, Ittai himself was living proof that not all Rephaim attain to such heights.
What kind of Rapha, so strong, so beautiful and befitting the physical image of royalty and power, could be so timid and hesitant?
This god Yahweh was a strange one. He gives his people what they want against his own desires? He chooses men as rulers who do not want to rule? Does he know what he is doing?
The Seer pulled out a flask and removed the cap. Saul knelt before the Seer. Samuel poured the contents of the flask over Saul’s head. The anointing oil flowed down over his face and beard. The crowd noise increased again.
Samuel cried out, “Behold the man of Yahweh’s choosing. Behold your king!”
And the mass of Israelite leaders all responded, “LONG LIVE THE KING!”
When the crowd died down in its applause, Samuel announced, “Hear O Israel! I have received word that the Ammonites have besieged the city of Jabesh-gilead. But I am no longer your judge over you. Hear now the words of your king!”
Saul looked surprised. He got up and wiped the oil from his face. He whispered to Samuel. Ittai could tell he was asking his counsel.
Suddenly, Samuel put his hand on Saul’s head in blessing. Saul jerked back as if penetrated by a rush of wind. The tall king fell back to his knees.
The crowd hushed.
“What happened?” Ittai whispered to Micah.
“The Spirit of Yahweh has come upon the king.”
Saul stood up again and appeared to rise taller than he had been. His posture straightened and he now exuded the confidence he had lacked just moments earlier.
It fascinated Ittai.
Saul turned to the crowd and announced in a firm kingly voice, “All Israel, send your military units and anyone who will fight to Gibeah. We will march on Jabesh-gilead and I will lead our forces in victory over these enemies of Yahweh!”
The crowd was stunned. Ittai and Micah were obviously not the only ones who had seen the transformation.
Then the entire mass of people burst out in a cheer.
Ittai felt tears in his eyes. Tears of inspiration. He turned to Micah and said, “I am going to Gibeah.”