Read Online Abigail by Jill Smith - Free Book Online Page B

perfect opportunity, David. Kill the old king and be done with it.” Abishai grabbed a clay lamp in one hand and pulled the blade from his belt with the other. “Just give the word, and I’ll do it for you.”
    David examined the group, noting the affirmation in each nod, in each weary but determined expression. These men had been with him nearly from the beginning, and they longed as he did to go home to a normal life, one that didn’t keep them on edge or force them to run from place to place. He’d lived the life of a fugitive for nearly seven years. To end it all would be such relief.
    “I’ll go,” he said at last, knowing they looked to him for some type of decision. If anyone raised their hand against Saul, it should be him, not his men. He would be blamed for it, was already accused of seeking Saul’s life, so why not?
    He removed his dagger and touched the tip, checking for dullness. It would do. Turning, he held up a hand to keep the others from following. He would make his way in the darkness, lest Saul notice the added light. His heart beat slowly in thick, heavy thuds as he eased his way along the cave walls. Rounding a bend, he looked toward the entrance. Sure enough, there sat the king of Israel on a sitting stone, trying to relieve himself.
    A thousand emotions rushed in on him as he moved on lithe feet ever closer, until he stood almost near enough to touch the man. Kill the old king and be done with it. Abishai would have already thrust the blade into Saul’s back. Hadn’t he caused them enough misery? If Saul were dead, Jonathan would bring him back to the palace, he’d be reunited with Michal, and he would ascend the throne without further bloodshed. Saul’s death would be the end of his persecution. He would be king in Saul’s stead.
    The thought brought a swift ache to his heart. Things could be so different. Life wasn’t supposed to be this way. God’s promise of the throne wasn’t supposed to include living like a fugitive. Where are You, Lord?
    A groan followed by muttered curses jolted David’s thoughts to the present. The last thing he needed was for Saul to alert his guards. In one swift motion, he cut the edge off Saul’s robe and tiptoed backward, farther into the shadows.
    Guilt lapped at him like ripples on the Jordan as he made his way back to his men. Saul was the Lord’s anointed every bit as much as he was, and David had no right to disrespect him or his position as king. If Saul was bent on seeking David’s life, then Saul was the one making a fool of himself. David could not allow himself to stoop to Saul’s level, and cutting off his robe was doing just that. He knew better. He shouldn’t have done such a thing, despite what his men might think.
    As he approached the light, he turned the piece of robe over in his hand. The woven threads hung loosely, already fraying in the place where his blade had touched. His men rushed forward at the sight of him.
    “Did you kill him?” Daniel asked.
    “Where is his head?” Abishai scowled.
    David held up a hand to quiet their whispers. “The Lord forbid that I should do such a thing to my master, the Lord’s anointed, or lift my hand against him, for he is the anointed of Adonai.” He held the piece of robe out for them to see. “I could have killed him, but I will not do it.”
    Silence followed his remark, but the disbelieving and frustrated stares spoke volumes. He released a slow breath, knowing there was little he could do to appease them. They disapproved of him. Maybe they would desert him as well.
    Despair cloaked his thoughts, and he turned to go back to the cave’s mouth. “Come,” he said, motioning for his men to follow. They moved as a group, saying nothing as they crept along the rough walls. He stopped within sight of Saul, but the king still appeared unaware of their presence. Saul stood, dusted off his robe, and walked into the sunlight.
    David straightened his back and followed Saul out of the cave.