Hey guys, I'm a writer, but I'm new to NAIRALAND. I have this great story I want to share with everyone. I hope you like it.





THE BOY WARRIOR (Ongoing action story) Episode 1
*
*
*
*

David dipped his rag into the special polish and applied it to the mail in his lap. He rubbed the silver polish evenly on the surface of the mail, its links clinking as he did. After using up the polish he scooped up, he dipped in the rag again and applied it to other parts of the chain mail.

Polishing mail was tricky work, as David had learned sometime ago. How long had it been? He paused his work as he tried to remember. A week? Most surely a week, just a few days more or less. He smiled and shook his head, returning to his polishing.

Polishing mail was harder than polishing, say, a breastplate, as he had learned that week or so ago, mostly because of all those links. You had to polish every inch of them, and do both the front and the back. A breastplate didn't need polish on the back, just the front. But polish only the front of a shirt of mail, and the unpolished links would show from the front. It made mail look. . .wrong, imperfect.

And this wasn't just any mail, this was the King's mail. It couldn't, couldn't be imperfect.

It was still hard for David to believe where he was. The king's palace. It had been hard for him to recall how long he had been here, mostly because the past week had stretched on for what seemed like a year. Time had seemed to slow, probably to allow him relish every moment of living the life every other young man in Israel dreamed of living.

He still remembered it like it was yesterday. No, not yesterday. The events that had taken place a week ago were as fresh as if they had occured just this past hour.

He had been in the fields not too far from their home, tending to the sheep as usual. He had just finished seeing to the needs of the latest sheep in the flock that were with young and had gone to sit under the shade of a tree, his back resting against the tree's trunk, watching the sheep graze, their mouths moving from side to side as they chewed contentedly.

He had brought his small wooden harp along to while away the time. He was working on a new tune he wanted to play at their family dinner that night. David had been plucking randomly on the harp's strings, his eyes closed, perfectly at peace, as he always was whenever he was working on a new song. Letting the breeze sweeping through the open fields rustle the grass and wash over him, letting the bleats of the flock guide him into that place, that special place where the notes of the tune he wanted to create would move from his mind seamlessly through his body and guide the pluckings of his fingers.

The first few notes had been right there, hovering on the edge of his mind. . .and then someone had tapped him on the shoulder, shattering his concentration like the time the shaving mirror he borrowed from his father had fallen and broken into a hundred little shards.

He opened his eyes to see Eliezer, his immediate elder brother.

“What. . .what is the matter?” he asked, disbelieving. Eliezer merely looked at him as if he had two heads.

“What are you closing your eyes for?” he asked.

“And what are you doing here?” David shot back.

“Father sent me to call you,” Eliezer had said. “He says you are to come home right this instant.”

“But. . . ” David said, looking at the sheep and back at his brother, “but what about them? Who will look after them?”

“Surely the flock can wait for a minute or two while your father requests you to come back home.”

David dropped the harp on the ground next to him.

“And what is father calling me for?” he'd asked.

“You ask too many questions, David,” Eliezer snapped. “Come home and see.”

David frowned. He didn't like the way his brothers treated him like a child, just because he was the youngest in the family. But he had a beard, and they tended to forget that he watched over his father's flock all by himself, that he had broken family record— the entire Israel's record, in fact —when he killed a lion and a bear.

He stole another glance at the flock, then picked his outer garment up from under the harp and went home with his brother.

And he had seen.

He had seen a queer sight indeed. Inside the house, all his brothers had been seated on the floor, along with their father, and perhaps the most surprising of all, Prophet Samuel. Prophet Samuel who served Jehovah and King Saul at Gilgal.

A fatherly smile had split the old man's long white beard as he entered, and Eliab, the firstborn, jumped to his feet.

“Wait,” he said. “Him? Him? But Prophet Samuel, surely you are mistaken.”
Prophet Samuel, still smiling, looked at Eliab and the rest of the family.

“There is no mistake, Eliab, son of Jesse, for here stands the one whom Jehovah has chosen to be king over Israel.”

I know you guys normally like stories. Abeg come and read.

Psady LadyGCrueDKilaB silverlinen Adedokunworld Palmerbarry Olawrites hotswagg12 PrincessSheris Blehsin20 graciouslygrace AlayeAfrika Adeola25 Timba24 ewawumi Ann2012 mychiveous Ochyglowsglows Zuriel100

THE BOY WARRIOR (Ongoing action story) Episode 2
*
*
*
*

“There is no mistake, Eliab, son of Jesse, for here stands the one whom Jehovah has chosen to be king over Israel.”

That was when David became sure he was the butt of a practical joke. He looked at his father.

“Father, what is happening?” But his father had been too awestruck to reply. The faces of his seven brothers had been a mixture of surprise, anger and envy. The only one who saw fit to give him a reassuring smile was Shammah, who, of all his brothers, was the only one who seemed to think he amounted to anything.

David turned to the prophet again.

“Prophet Samuel? Me, King?”

But the prophet, all serious-faced, the smile gone now, beckoned him to come, and right there in the middle of all his family, annointed him with oil as the next king of Israel. Sometime after that, King Saul had invited him to live with the royal family at the palace.

And thus had begun the life that David now lived, the life the last son of Jesse from the small town of Bethlehem would for a very long time after be remembered for.

Coming back from his trip down memory lane, David took a square of shining leather and vigorously rubbed the surface of the chain mail, making sure the links sparkled silver. Properly shined mail wouldn't stain the leather its wearer had undernearth.

“My lord,” the manservant said. How he had gotten from the door all the way up here without him knowing, David had no idea. He bowed very low and tried to take the shirt of mail out of his hands at the same time. “You are a guest of the king. Please, do not soil yourself by doing the work meant for the king's servants.”

David yanked the mail out of his hand and sent him back to his post just inside the door of the armory with an impatient flick of his arm.

King Saul had appointed him armourbearer, and no matter how many times this persistent manservant tried to argue that he was only supposed to bear the armour, being the king's armourbearer meant taking care of anything that concerned the king's armour, in David's opinion.

“It pleases me to do the work of the king's servants,” he replied, “for I myself am a servant of the king.”

The armoury was a large hall with a stone roof supported by rows of huge pillars. Different pieces of armour and weaponry lined the walls and the racks arranged on different sides of the room. Racks of spears with polished wooden shafts and glinting steel tips, breastplates of copper and steel and brass and silver, shields both rectangular and round, plain swords in their painted wooden sheaths, and many more.

Mounted on the wall at the end of the hall, just behind David on the raised platform where he sat was the king's armour. One set was copper, copper mail David had polished till the links shone like gold with silver breastplate and silver gauntlets and silver helmet and silver shin protectors. The other set was silver and copper like the first, only opposite: silver mail burnished to a high sheen, copper breastplate, gauntlets, helmet and shin protectors. Each set made, as the king's grizzled armorer had told him, so both copper and silver could stand out everytime the King went to war.

The king's sword hung on the wall too, a longsword with jewel-encrusted hilt, and beside it a four-cornered shield so large it had to be carried by a shield bearer.

David heard footsteps. He kept the mail beside him and looked at the door of the armoury. A girl, another servant, had entered into the armoury. She whispered into the manservant's ear. Beyond them, outside the door, David could see the men who stood guard at both sides of the doorpost.

He didn't know the manservant's name, but he knew the maidservant was called Leah. She finally stopped whispering and looked up the hall at him. They held each other's gaze for a second, everything else blurring away as he stared into her big brown eyes. Just for a second, before Leah looked away and hurried out the door. David smiled. He felt a kind of connection whenever he looked at Leah, and from the way she jumped whenever their eyes met, he knew she felt it too.

His thoughts were distracted from the pretty maidservant by the manservant walking toward him. His expression was urgent, and David could tell that something was wrong.

“What is the matter?” he asked.

“It's the king, my lord,” the manservant said, wringing his hands. “He has fallen into one of his unfavourable moods again. He requires your presence urgently, my lord.”
David jumped to his feet and hurriedly hung the polished chain mail on the wall behind him. He walked down the large hall, leaving the manservant to clear away the bowl and the other utensils on the floor.

This was the main reason why the king had called him to his palace in the first place. Rumor had it that a bad spirit had descended upon King Saul, and he frequently flew into rages the manservant aptly called “unfavourable moods.” In a way, David was the king's physician.

The king required his medicine.

The king required David's music.

Guys, please, I will appreciate any feedback at all on this story.

THE BOY WARRIOR (Ongoing action story) Episode 3
*
*
*
*

David gace the reins a little tug, urging the old mule on faster. The animal barely increased its pace, its rump swaying from side to side as it pulled the cart along the stony path.

He wiped the sweat from his face with the back of his hand, keeping his hold on the reins with the other. The noonday sun was blazing hot in the middle of the sky, and its heat literally stung his exposed skin. He was home from King Saul's service. He had been at home since throughout the week on the instruction of the king so he could tend to his father's flock. Now he was on break from that too.

He was supposed to be at the palace now, since he had stayed at home most of last week and just gone back for a few days, but King Saul had other pressing matters aside from listening to the tunes of his harp. The Philistines had come to attack Israel, and the King and his army had drawn up in battle formation against them in the Valley of Elah. The Israelite army was encamped between Socoh and Azekah, cities belonging to Judah.

David had a little skill at arms, the little bits and pieces he had picked up about the use of sword and spear while watching the soldiers at practice in their barracks. But he wasn't going to war. David was a pro with stone and sling, and a smile came to his face when he remembered the countless pidgeons he had brought home for the family to roast and eat. But he wasn't warrior material. Not yet, at least. And he was young. Too young to serve in the king's army.

But his family had representation in the army. His three eldest brothers: tall, strapping Eliab, soft-spoken Aminadab, equally tall but lanky, and David's favourite of all his brothers, Shammah. Bulky and short, unlike the first two, with a gruff voice and loud, barking laugh that David could swear he had heard once while tending to the sheep all the way from their house. Grown men, all.

And that was why David was here, on the road to Socoh and Azekah, sweating at the front of this wooden cart and bearing the full brunt of the blazing sun. His father had loaded him down with an ephah measure of roasted grain and ten loaves of bread, supplies for his brothers in the camp near the battle line at the Valley of Elah.

And there was something else in there too. Davd turned around to look into the cart, and he saw it and remembered. Ten portions of cheese, freshly made from cow's milk just yesterday, for the chief of the thousand of the king's army.

David's rear was already starting to cramp from sitting on the hard wood for too long, and he shifted uncomfortably on the bench, trying to make the numbness he felt there a little better. There were trees on the sides of the path, and for a moment he considered taking another break to rest himself. But no. He couldn't, not when he was this close to the camp. Just another hour or two and he would be there.

He felt sweat trickle down the side of his face, and he wiped it away again. There was the sound of voices behind him, and he turned to see two men talking and laughing. They both had their outer garments on their shoulders. Hired help. Plow workers, from the build of them. They were walking at a leisurely pace, and one of them waved to him as they passed. David waved back. They walked past his cart at the same leisurely pace, lengthening the distance between them and him.

They were on foot, and David was on this old, sorry, sodden—

THE BOY WARRIOR (Ongoing action story) Episode 3b
*
*
*
*

They were on foot, and David was on this old, sorry, sodden—

He gave the mule's rear a lick with his palm in his anger, and the bony beast shook his head and snorted in pain and ran a few paces, before settling right back into its slow trot.

One of the men turned back, the same one who had waved to him.

“Easy on the beast, boy,” he called. “The poor thing is too slow, but he will give out if you overburden him.”

David nodded wearily and settled his back on the edge of the cart. The man was right. The worst thing would be for the mule to give out. He doubted if he could even carry a whole ephah of roasted grain for half a league. He resigned himself to the blazing sun and the cramps in his rear.

David tried to take his mind off his situation by thinking about the good memories he had in the palace of the king. Most of them had to do with food, actually. The king and his household consumed more bread, milk and cheese in each meal than his family did each week. And there were always platters of whole roast lamb with an apple in its mouth. Either that or a side of roast bull, sometimes fried deep in oil.

David almost always had his stomach full these days, but that didn't mean he didn't still enjoy bread and meat or just plain roast grain at home with his family. His brothers treated him like a child, but having seven older brothers meant that mealtimes at their home were always loud and lively.

And what young man didn't have good memories with a girl he liked?

It was nearly impossible for Leah and himself to see each other during the day: he was in the king's court, while she worked in the kitchens, but they usually got together at night. Leah was a gentle woman, and she usually asked him questions about his family. And about his annointing. David told her the only thing he knew about that, which was that he didn't fully understand.

And Leah enjoyed listening to him play the harp. He had many songs he composed while tending sheep, and she enjoyed each and every one. Her favourites were "Sleep Well, Sweet Maiden," which actually made her drowsy when he played it, and "Little Dancing Sheep," whose inspiration he came by when once, for some reason, a lamb of the flock began dancing to a tune he was playing. Leah always laughed to near tears whenever he played that one.

If only she knew that she had been his inspiration for "Sleep Well, Sweet Maiden."

Leah always said his harp made her sleep easy. Not only the king found peace in his harp, it seemed. He thought about the both of them, sometimes. They could get married when he was older, perhaps. Him a last son from a lowly family, and she a humble maidservant. They were a perfect match for each other.

David was distracted from his memories by the sight of the watchtower of Azekah and the guards standing watch on its parapet. The city was off to the west, and just beside its wall, out on the open field, were the tents. The city of Azekah was built up on the mountain, and the tents sloped gently downward, toward the valley. Across it, far in the distance, were the other mountains. Socoh was supposed to be somewhere to the east, though it wasn't visible from where he was.

David urged his mule right through the broad way cutting through the tents, and he could tell as he passed the neat, orderly rows that no one was here. There was only an eerie silence.

That was when David heard it. A sound of steel rattling together, so loud that it was like a thunderclap. He listened, and he heard it again. And again.

Boom-boom boom-boom.

He stood up on the bench, and he saw rows upon rows of spears, bobbing up and down with the steps of the men who held them.

The Israelite army was marching to war.

Present, well done.

Adeola25:
Present, well done.

You are welcome.

.

THE BOY WARRIOR (Ongoing action story) Episode 4
*
*
*
*

That was when David heard it. A sound of steel rattling together, so loud that it was like a thunderclap. He listened, and he heard it again. And again.

Boom-boom boom-boom.

He stood up on the bench, and he saw rows upon rows of spears, bobbing up and down with the steps of the men who held them.

The Israelite army was marching to war.

David soon saw the baggage attendant.

“Hold it,” the man said. “Who goes there?”

“David, son of Jesse, of the king's court,” he said hurriedly.

“The cart?” the attendant asked.

“Supplies. For my brothers.”

The man nodded and came up and took the reins, leading the mule toward the baggage tent. David jumped down off the cart and took off through the streets of the tent city.

“Where are you going, boy?” he heard the attendant shout.

“Coming,” he called back as he ran.

David ran on through the alleys of the drab brown military tent-settlements, following the slope of the mountain. He passed a street at whose far left end he saw a beautiful, sprawling tent he assumed would be the king's. He noticed the guards manning the perimeter of the huge tent out of the corner of his eye. One of the guards looked at him as he ran past. Definitely the king's.

He soon crossed the last line of tents and came face to face with a stone wall about three cubits high. Not a wall of hewn stones held together with mortar like the city walls off to the west, but a wall of stones piled atop each other, stretching across the tentline to east and west. Most likely a point of cover for archers, David thought, though there were no archers in sight. He hopped the wall and continued running.

The slope of the mountain was steeper once past the wall. And the thunderclaps were louder now. Much louder. The stretch of ground between the stone wall was a mass of tortured earth, with clods of grass and earth torn up by the footsteps of the Israelite army marching steadily downward.

And David saw what made the noise like thunder. Their footsteps.

Left-right left-right left-right. Boom-boom boom-boom boom-boom.

Hundreds of men all marching as one, the tips of their spears bobbing up and down. David heard Abner, the chief of King Saul's army, shouting orders up and down the ranks.

But the Israelite army weren't the only ones moving. Across the Valley of Elah, on the other mountain, the Philistine army marched steadily down the steep decline, so far away that he couldn't hear them.

Something happened as the men neared the valley. Two lines of soldiers stayed back, while the others continued marching downward. David, throwing caution to the wind now, ran all the way down until he was right behind the last line of soldiers. He stopped right behind a man he had seen many times in the barracks.

“David?” The man asked in surprise when he turned around and saw him. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to look for my brothers,” he said, looking up and down the line of still-standing soldiers, some of whom were now talking.

“No,” the soldier said. “They are in the vanguard.” He nodded toward the soldiers still marching down the mountain.

They were already near the valley when David saw it. On the Philistine side, something huge was making its way down to the valley. No, not something, as he realized when he looked closer. Someone. He had thought it was a battering ram, but surely battering rams didn't have two legs or wear helmets or coats of mail.

The giant— which was David's opinion of the man, whoever he was —ran all the way to the front of the Philistine army. There was a shield-bearer before him, carrying a shield so large that he was completely hidden behind it.

“HALT!” Abner's voice boomed across the mountainside. The Israelite army stopped marching at once.

The huge Philistine was wearing a shirt of mail of copper links, like the one the king had, except this one was nearly thrice as big. He roared, reminding David of the lion he had once killed who took a lamb from his flock.

“Why have you come out to draw up in battle formation?” he thundered in a voice so deep and loud it seemed to come from the heavens themselves. “Am I not the Philistine, and are you not the servants of Saul? Choose a man for yourself, and let him come down to me. If he is able to strike me down, we will then become your servants. But if I prevail against him, you will become our servants and serve us.”

The giant paused, and, in a way, the silence was even more menacing than his voice.

“I do taunt the battle line of Israel this day. Give me a man, and let us fight it out!”

THE BOY WARRIOR (Ongoing action story) Episode 5
*
*
*
*

The oppressive silence returned again after the huge soldier finished speaking.

How. . .dare. . .he? was all David could help but think. The two lines of soldiers in front of him had abndoned all semblance of discipline and were now discussing furiously. Abner shouted something, he didn't hear what, the orders were repeated down the ranks, and the Israelite army turned and marched back up the mountain.

How dare he? This was the army of Israel, the army whose God was Jehovah, the army who fought with the hand of their God. And this. . .this uncircumcised Philistine thought he could taunt their battle line? The mere thought of it nearly drove him mad. Was it because of his size? No, no, David thought, shaking his head. This kind of action couldn't be allowed to pass. Something had to be done about it, and quick.

“What will be done for the man who strikes down that Philistine over there and takes away reproach from Israel?” he asked the men on the line. “For who is this uncircumcised Philistine that he should taunt the battle line of the living God?”

The men told him that there was a reward. King Saul would give the man great riches and his daughter as a wife.

The Israelite army had gotten to where they were now. David moved out of the way as the remaining two lines joined the rear of the army. The army commander, Abner, looked at David as he marched at the head of his men. He couldn't see most of his face because of his helmet, but David saw that he didn't look pleased. Not in the slightest.

David continued walking only when the last men were in front of him. He pulled his shepherd's bag tighter over his shoulder and followed them up the mountain, over the stone wall, and into the camp.

In the camp, all was chaos. No, not chaos, exactly, just loud. David had thought their own house loud because of the eight sons his father had, but this was something else. There were cookfires everywhere, even more men than the cookfires, and the sound of voices. A thousand men talking at the same time. Most were talking about what had happened down at the valley.

It took a while for David to find his brothers, but after asking for directions more times than he could count, getting lost more than once, and having to sidestep men everywhere he turned, he finally found it.

It was a regular tent, drab, dark brown, made of animal skins and faded by harsh weather, just like the hundreds of others just like it. Inside it were four men, all stripping out of their armour.

Eliab, of course, was the first to see him.

“Ah, if it isn't the future King of Israel himself,” his eldest brother said, unstrapping his breastplate at his side. “Why have you come down? And with whom did you leave those few sheep in the wilderness? I heard what you were asking the men. I well know your presumptuousness and the bad intentions of your heart; you came down just to see the battle.”

“What have I done now?” David asked, surprised to hear the anger in his brother's voice. “I was only asking a question!”

The other occupants of the tent had turned to look at him. Eliab scoffed and continued taking off his armour. Shammah and Abinadab were here too, along with another soldier David recognized from the barracks. He nodded to the man, who was seated on a pile of animal skins, stretching. The man nodded back.

“Well, what did you expect,” Aminadab said from a pile of animal skins in another corner of the tent. His voice was soft, low, and taunting. “Surely you didn't think little brother would stay in Bethlehem while the rest of us were here, having all the fun?”

The other soldier chuckled at that. Short, thick Shammah didn't say anything, mostly because he sat on his own makeshift bed, chugging down wine from a wineskin. He finally put down the wineskin and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He still had all his armour on.

“Oh, leave the boy alone,” he grunted, thumping his chest with one hand and letting out a large belch. Groans of disgust went up from the other men. David smiled. He walked over to Shammah's bed and sat. “But why are you here, David?” his brother asked seriously. “A battlefield is no place for a boy.”

“Father sent me with suplplies,” he replied, frowning. They were all still calling him a boy. His beard was more than just peach fuzz now, and his baritone matched any of theirs, yet they still called him a boy. “An ephah of roasted grain and ten loaves of bread for you, and ten portions of cheese for the commander of the thousand. They are with the baggage attendant.”

“Hey, nothing for me?” the other thick-bearded soldier asked in mock annoyance. Shammah barked out one of his laughs.

“Nothing for you, of course. You're not family.” He and the other soldier laughed.

“The Philistine, who is he?” David asked quickly, looking from man to man. “How long has he been taunting the men?” David nearly recoiled when he saw how tightly Eliab's jaw was clenched. Abinadab was frowning. In fact, all the men were.

“How long?” Shammah asked in his gruff voice. “Including today, forty days.”

THE BOY WARRIOR (Ongoing action story) Episode 6
*
*
*
*

“The Philistine, who is he?” David asked quickly, looking from man to man. “How long has he been taunting the men?” David nearly recoiled when he saw how tightly Eliab's jaw was clenched. Abinadab was frowning. In fact, all the men were.

“How long?” Shammah asked in his gruff voice. “Including today, forty days.”

David shot up from the bed so fast he drew the eye of everyone in the tent. Here he was thinking that something had to be done about this issue quickly, and these taunts had been going on for forty days?

“Sit yourself down, boy,” Eliab commanded. David made to object. “I said sit!” He obeyed. “Goliath has been taunting our people for forty days, and there's nothing you can do. Do you think we are happy about it? Do you think all the men in this tent won't love to see him cut down?”

Eliab's voice was rising in volume, and David could see how much the issue pained him. None of the other men said a word. They all wanted the same thing Eliab wanted, he could see it in the glares they gave their beds.

“You know why nothing has been done about it?” Eliab continued. “Because none of the battle-hardened men in this camp is mad enough to accept his challenge, that's why.”

“Aye,” Shammah said, his voice low. “Goliath, he eats boys like you for dinner. No one will accept his challenge, not even with the king's reward.”

“David,” someone said at the entrance to the tent. He turned around and saw a soldier there, just outside, peering into the tent. “The king requests your presence in his tent.”

He nodded and stood up.

“I have to be going now,” he said quietly.

“Bring the supplies on your way back,” Eliab said from behind him.

“And the cheese too, boy,” Shammah added. “We'll give it to Abner ourselves.”

David frowned. There was no chance of that happening. He liked Shammah, looked up to him, but he also knew him very well. He'd give the cheese to him and only five portions would make their way to the chief of the thousand.

He pulled back the tent flap and stepped back out into the sun's glare, the noise and chaos of the tent. This sun was the early evening sun. David followed the guard through the rows of tents, past soldiers casting lots on everything from pouches of silver to pieces of roast rabbit. Almost every tent had a spit in front of it with an animal roasting on it.

They finally reached the king's tent. It was large, as big as a hall, a lot larger than the tents of the other soldiers, and a lot newer too. David placed it around the middle of all the others. Two soldiers stood guard on either side of the tent flap. David followed the soldier inside.

Inside the tent was a bit dim, and it took David a couple of seconds to get his eyes adjusted to the light. The king was there, just inside the tent. On a table close to the entrance was a parchment map. Abner, the chief of the king's thousand, stood opposite King Saul who was seated on a camp stool. Candlestands stood all the way farther into the tent, but none of them were lit.

“ . . .Azekah's city gate remains sealed,” Abner was saying, pointing at a spot on the map, “as it has been since we first arrived, in case the battle goes against us. We handle supply runs from the rear of the city wall to the camp by night. No one is allowed past our camp wall.”

“My lord,” the soldier who led him in said. “David, son of Jesse.”

Both the king and his commander looked up then. They had been so engrossed in their discussion that they hadn't seemed to notice the two new arrivals. The soldier bowed and stood aside.

King Saul was an elderly man, though not as old as his father. He was in only a silk inner garment, girded about the waist with a golden woolen sash. The garment didn't cover his arms, which were bigger than those of any of the guards'. The king wasn't wearing his crown. David thought he looked tired, his handsome face marred by worry lines. The king looked in real need of his harp.

Abner, on the other hand, was dressed in his complete armour. His helmet was on the table.

“David,” the king said in his loud, strong voice. “I didn't appoint you my armourbearer for times of war. What are you doing in the camp?”

“Your servant was sent by my father, my lord,” David said, taking a knee. “He sent me with supplies for my brothers, also to check on their welfare.”

“Rise up, David,” the king said, sounding even more tired. “I have told you not to kneel each time I summon you. Rise.” David did as commanded. “I am not angry at you for obeying your father, David. How is Jesse?”

“He is well, my lord,” David said, his head bowed. He raised his head to address the king. “My lord, the Philistine, let no one lose heart because of him. Your servant will go and fight with this Philistine.”

Abner frowned, and the king shook his head.

“You are not able to fight with this Philistine, for you are but a boy, and he has been a soldier from his youth.”

“I know you want to help, boy,” Abner said, “but to accept Goliath's challenge is suicide. For forty days he has made these taunts, and none of the seasoned men under my command has given it a thought. Let it rest. Jesse is an old man. Give your brothers their supplies and go back home to him.”

David looked from Abner to Saul and back. No. He couldn't let the chance go. Something had to be done about this. . .Goliath. And David knew who was the one to do it. He faced the king squarely.

“Your servant has been a sherpherd of his father's flock, and a lion came, and also a bear, and each carried off a sheep from the flock. I went out after it and struck it down and rescued it from its mouth. When it rose up against me, I grabbed it by its fur and struck it down and put it to death.

“Your servant struck down the lion and the bear, and this Philistine will become like one of them, for he has taunted the battle lines of the living God.”

David spoke from the depth of his heart. Goliath's taunts angered him just as it did the rest of the men, perhaps even more.

“Jehovah who rescued me from the claws of the lion and the bear,” he continued, “he is the one who will rescue me from the hands of this Philistine.”

There was a heavy silence in the tent. The wind blew the tent flap, and from all around them came the muted sounds of the camp. The king stared at him with a mixture of shock and weariness. Abner was staring at him too, and the army commander did something that made David question the credibility of his own senses: he looked at the king and nodded.

THE BOY WARRIOR (Ongoing action story) Episode 7
*
*
*
*

“He is well, my lord,” David said, his head bowed. He raised his head to address the king. “My lord, the Philistine, let no one lose heart because of him. Your servant will go and fight with this Philistine.”

Abner frowned, and the king shook his head.

“You are not able to fight with this Philistine, for you are but a boy, and he has been a soldier from his youth.”

“I know you want to help, boy,” Abner said, “but to accept Goliath's challenge is suicide. For forty days he has made these taunts, and none of the seasoned men under my command has given it a thought. Let it rest. Jesse is an old man. Give your brothers their supplies and go back home to him.”

David looked from Abner to Saul and back. No. He couldn't let the chance go. Something had to be done about this. . .Goliath. And David knew who was the one to do it. He faced the king squarely.

“Your servant has been a sherpherd of his father's flock, and a lion came, and also a bear, and each carried off a sheep from the flock. I went out after it and struck it down and rescued it from its mouth. When it rose up against me, I grabbed it by its fur and struck it down and put it to death.

“Your servant struck down the lion and the bear, and this Philistine will become like one of them, for he has taunted the battle lines of the living God.”

David spoke from the depth of his heart. Goliath's taunts angered him just as it did the rest of the men, perhaps even more.

“Jehovah who rescued me from the claws of the lion and the bear,” he continued, “he is the one who will rescue me from the hands of this Philistine.”

There was a heavy silence in the tent. The wind blew the tent flap, and from all around them came the muted sounds of the camp. The king stared at him with a mixture of shock and weariness. Abner was staring at him too, and the army commander did something that made David question the credibility of his own senses: he looked at the king and nodded.

The king looked even more sad at that. But he nodded, looking right into David's eyes. David felt for him, for the man who had been like a second father to him. His offered reward of riches and his daughter had been spurned because his men were too afraid to fight.

All the more reason to take away the reproach of the army of the king.

The army of the living God.

“Go, and may Jehovah be with you,” King Saul said finally.

Throughout the next few minutes Abner looked as if he had been imbued with a new spirit. The king decided David would go in his own personal armour. Goliath was wearing a shirt of copper mail, so Abner sent one of the guards for the silver one. The same one David had spent months polishing with the special silver polish.

David put his shepherd's bag on the table and began to suit up. It was when he wore the chain mail that David doubted wearing the shiny silver armour. The shirt was made to be short-sleeved, but on David it ended about halfway between his elbow and his palm. David had held it more times than he could count, but he'd had no idea it was this big. Or heavy.

Abner continued suiting him up nontheless.

When David was finally dressed, it seemed like he could barely stand. Abner placed the king's copper helmet on his head, and the rim of the helmet blocked his eyes almost completely.

“Try taking a step,” Abner said. He was trying to sound optimistic, as though he thought it less of an insult now that someone had accepted Goliath's challenge, no matter if that someone was a young boy whose only experience with weapons was slinging stones.

David took a step, anyway, and his knees buckled under the weight of the armour. He held the side of the table for support.

“Oh, David. . . ” The king said, trailing off the rest.

“My lord, I am unable to go in these things,” David said, taking off the helmet and keeping it beside Abner's on the table, “for I am not used to them.”

The king motioned for him to take them off, but Abner proceeded to UnCloth him personally. After a while, David was back in his inner garments again. He picked his outer garment off a camp stool, and Abner excused himself from the tent. The king looked at him.

“You are a handsome young man, David, do you know that?” the king said. David did not know what to say. He looked down at his sandals. The king sighed heavily. “It would be unfair for your father to lose you today. Perhaps Jehovah feels the same way about you.”

“Jehovah will be with me,” David said simply. The king stood up and came around the table to where he stood. He placed both of his hands on David's shoulders. The king stood a whole head taller than him, so he looked down into his eyes.

“Return back to this camp when you're finished, you hear me?” David tried his best to look determined. He nodded. “Return.”.

THE BOY WARRIOR (Ongoing action story)
The Story So Far. . .
*
*
*
*

David, last son of Jesse, has been anointed to be King of Israel and has come to meet his brothers at their battle camp where the Israelite army has drawn up to battle the Philistines. Now, an ordinary shepherd— who has killed a lion and a bear, by the way —finds himself going to war. And not just to war. Single combat with a giant of a man: Goliath.

Will he be victorious? Find out next on THE BOY WARRIOR.

THE BOY WARRIOR (Ongoing action story) Episode 8
*
*
*
*

“Return back to this camp when you're finished, you hear me?” David tried his best to look determined. He nodded. “Return.”

The tent flap opened and a man came in, fully dressed in armour with his helmet under his arm. He bore a striking resemblance to King Saul. The king's son, Jonathan.

“Where is the man who has accepted Goliath's challenge?” he asked, looking around. David took a knee before the son of the king.

“Your servant has the honour, my lord.”

“Oh, stand up, David,” Jonathan said, helping him up. “Do that to my father, not to me. I'm not that old yet. You are David, son of Jesse? The one who plays the harp?” David nodded as he stood up.

Jonathan was a grown man, perhaps older even than Eliab, who was old enough to be his father.

“You have done what all of us old fools have been too afraid to do. A brave man. And handsome, too,” he said, smiling and looking at David's face. “Whichever of my sisters who will marry you will be lucky not to have any of the others. Jehovah has annointed you to be king of Israel. Have no fear. He will not let you die.”

The king was standing behind his son, and over Jonathan's shoulder David thought he saw the king's face harden at his son's comment. No, he thought. It's just the nervousness. The king knows about my anointing. He has always been supportive of me.

“The other men say you're too young to fight,” Jonathan continued, distracting him from his thoughts. “You know what I say? I say you go out there and show Goliath that the battle line of Israel is not one to be taunted.” He grasped David's arm. “Prepare to be rich, my man.”

David smiled, in spite of himself.

Abner marched in now. He had his helmet on.

“My king. My lord,” he said, nodding to King Saul and Jonathan in turn. Then, to David, “The men are ready to march. It is time.”

They all went outside, all of them except King Saul. There was a retinue of soldiers just outside the tent. Jonathan and Abner marched in front, David behind, and the retinue fell in behind and around them. They passed the tents again, heading towards the stone wall, and the few soldiers they passed were a lesson in emotion. Some looked at him as if they just couldn't believe their eyes, while some put on their helmets with newfound purpose.

Most of the tents had no occupants, and they were as silent as they had been when David first arrived. Marching in the middle of all these soldiers, the feeling was surreal. He had come to Azekah to give supplies to Abner and his brothers, and now he was following the chief of the king's thousand to war. Circumstances did change, and sometimes very quickly.

They passed the row of tents he recognized as the one where his brothers were staying, exactly as he had been hoping they wouldn't. Now he crossed his fingers for his brothers not to be in.

His wishes were blatantly ignored two times.

All three of his bothers were already suited up with their helmets under their arms, along with the soldier they shared the tent with. The four of them turned around as the group drew closer. David saw Eliab's eyes go as wide as an owl's.

“It's true!” he exclaimed and ran to meet Abner. “Please, don't let him do this,” Eliab pleaded, holding the chief's hand. “Please, my father, he'll die if anything happens to— ” But Abner pushed his hand away. Shammah rushed to meet David instead. Abinadab just stood on and looked, dumbfounded.

“Are you mad, boy?” Shammah bellowed, struggling against the retinue of soldiers holding him back. “Goliath will kill you! He won't just kill you, he will— ” Shammah's eyes were wide with desperation, and he tried to touch David, but the guards were not letting him. David was sure of what he was about to do, but his heart broke, seeing his brothers like this. It was all he could do not to cry.

“Enough!” Abner shouted. “We have a contender,” he said, nodding back to David. “He chose to do this himself, so we will not have to suffer Goliath's taunts anymore. Now, you will join the rest of the men at the battle line, or I will have your heads when I get back.”

The chief turned and continued marching, and the retinue followed, leaving David no other choice.

“David, come back,” Shammah shouted after them. “It's not too late. Say you don't want to do this anymore, boy!” His voice dwindled the farther they walked. “David! David! Daviiiiid!”

But they continued marching until the stone wall was just up ahead. Beyound the stone wall, the men of Israel waited. They crossed the wall, and somehow they all joined the ranks. Jonathan marched beside him, while all around them the guards melted into their places. Abner was swallowed up by the men.

They heard his voice from up front a moment later.

“Men, forward!”

THE BOY WARRIOR (Ongoing action story) Episode 9
*
*
*
*

They heard his voice from up front a moment later.

“Men, forward!”

As if controlled by one mind, the army began marching down the decline of the mountain. The sun was now a pale orange, dimming even more as it began to be swallowed up in the west. Being in the midst of the thunder now, the sound was unbelievable.

Left-right left-right left-right. Boom-boom boom-boom boom-boom.

All around David were men much older and taller than he was, their armour clinking as they marched. It seemed like a lifetime before the chief shouted, “Men, halt!” The orders were repeated by the army captains several times before the men stopped marching.

“Make way for your champion!” came the bellow of the commander from near the valley floor. Shouts of “Make way!” were repeated by the captains.

In three crisp movements, punctuated by the clinking of metal on metal, the men in front of them took a step away to either side, turned sideways to face each other and held their shields in front of them, leaving a path through their middle that stretched down, down, down.

Jonathan held his arm lightly.

“Come on, my man,” he said. “This is our call.”

Jonathan proceeded through the lines of men until he reached the gap, and David followed right behind him, drawing his trusty shepherd's bag tighter over his shoulder.

They passed men who stood behind their shields like they were carved out of stone, ranks upon ranks upon ranks. It was now that David truly appreciated how many a thousand men were. He could literally feel their eyes on his back, watching Israel's contender, a mere boy compared with the rest of them. His brothers would be among the men too, watching as their brother walked steadily to meet what would probably be his death. . .

David shook his head. No, he couldn't think about that, not now.

They finally cleared the army, and Abner followed them right down to the valley floor. Across the valley were the Philistine army, arrayed in ranks behind their standard bearers. All of them stood still. Waiting.

That was when Jonathan let out a sound of surprise.

“By the name of Jehovah, David, we forgot. No one gave you a sword belt. Here, you can have mine,” he said, making to undo his. But David stopped him. He patted his bag.

“I have my weapons right here.”

Jonathan looked surprised, but he didn't say anything. The sand on which they stood was thick and bleached white, like as not by the torrents that flowed through the Valley of Elah during the rainy season.

There were stones here. Smooth, round, shiny ones, just as David liked them. He bent down and picked up a handful of them and put them in his bag.

Abner raised his hand for them to stop, and they did. Across the valley, the Philistine army waited, their banners flapping in the wind.

“We have our champion, Philistia,” Abner shouted, his voice loud, carrying so well across the flat land that David had to wonder how he hadn't lost the use of it already. “Where is yours?”

Just as Abner asked the question, the ground shook. And that was when they saw it. Goliath's head, chest and shoulders, all looming above the helmets of the Philistines. He ran right through their battle line as he had done earlier that day, until he was at the front of the army with his shield-bearer before him.

Goliath's huge head moved from side to side as he looked from Jonathan to Abner on either side of him. Wondering which was his contender. The two warriors turned around and walked back to the Israelite battle line. The huge Philistine looked from them to David who stood just a few metres across from him, and just then did it seem to sink in.

Goliath had on a helmet like the half-helm the Israelite soldiers wore, the type that covered their foreheads and the sides of their faces. The only difference was that Goliath's helmet had a strip of metal that led from the rim of his helmet to cover his nose. That and the little fact that his helmet would probably qualify as a greathelm on a regular man's head.

His helmet left his mouth and eyes visible, and his upper lip curled back into a sneer as he looked at his contender with his bag across his shoulder and his sling in his hand.

“Am I a dog, so that you are coming against me with sticks?” he roared, stamping his feet and shaking the earth. He let out a string of unspeakable curses punctuated by strange names David assumed were names of Philistine gods.

THE BOY WARRIOR (Ongoing action story)
Final Episode
*
*
*
*

“Am I a dog, so that you are coming against me with sticks?” he roared, stamping his feet and shaking the earth. He let out a string of unspeakble curses punctuated by strange names David assumed were names of Philistine gods.

“Just come to me,” the giant shouted, swinging a spear by its shaft that looked a lot like the beams loom workers and weavers back home in Bethlehem used, “and I will give your flesh to the birds of heaven and to the beasts of the field.”

Behind him, the Philistines let out cheers and cries of rage, shaking their fists and jabbing the air with their spears. But David was not fazed. As he looked at Goliath, any doubts he had about his decision faded away into thin air.

It was just like that time when he came back from answering a call of nature and saw a commotion among the flock. He had seen the signs of a scuffle on the ground, and prominent among the torn earth were the huge paw prints that belonged to none other than the major predators that terrorized the flocks in the fields. As he saw the prints, David had known, just known, that all he had to do was follow those prints and he would rescue the stolen sheep and slay the lion.

That was the exact same way he knew, just knew, that Goliath didn't stand a chance against him, not with the mighty arm of Jehovah behind him. In a way, David pitied the Philistine.

He had no idea what was about to happen.

“You are coming against me with sword and spear and javelin,” he called back to Goliath, “but I am coming against you in the name of Jehovah of armies, the God of the battle line of Israel, whom you have taunted. This very day Jehovah will surrender you into my hand, and I will strike you down and cut off your head, and on this day I will give the corpses of the camp of the Philistines to the birds of the heavens and to the wild beasts of the earth; and people of all the earth will know that there is a God in Israel.

“All those gathered here will know that it is not with the sword or spear that Jehovah saves, for the battle belongs to Jehovah, and he will give all of you into our hand.”

Behind him, the army of Israel let out cheers and shouts of anger. Goliath roared and, keeping behind his shield-bearer, ran to meet David. But the last son of Jesse didn't sit still. He ran to meet his contender.

With motions he had practiced a thousand times while shooting down pidgeons, he thrust his hand into his bag and brought out a stone, slotted it into the leather pouch of his sling and waited. Goliath's shield-bearer would have been a big obstacle if he had been wielding a sword, but thankfully he wasn't. He took aim at the part of Goliath that protruded at least four whole cubits above the top of his shield.

And he let it fly.

The sickening crunch of breaking bone that rang through the darkening valley as the stone made contact with Goliath's forehead drew muffled sounds of surprise from both armies and stopped the Philistine's shield-bearer dead in his tracks.

The whole world seemed to pause around him. Goliath fell backward and hit the earth with so much force that the shield-bearer stumbled. David did too, but he quickly recovered his balance, thrust his wooden sling into his bag and ran to the fallen giant. He knelt beside him and laid his two hands around the hilt of his sword and drew it out of its scabbard with a loud, sweet ring of steel on steel.

The sword was heavy, and about the same height as he was from hilt to tip. He raised it and, with a loud cry, swung it down on Goliath's neck. The weight and sharpness of the sword parted Goliath's head from his body in one clean stroke.

Blood gushed from the hollow stump of his neck, saturating the floor of the valley a deep, dark crimson. David held the sword and panted, his chest heaving up and down.

In the Valley of Elah, all was silent. Over two thousand men stood against each other in battle formation, and yet not a sound issued from any of them.

And then David raised Goliath's decapitated head by its hair, still dripping blood. He turned it first to show the Philistine army, then the Israelites. David saw a kind of horror in the shield-bearer's eyes that words couldn't describe.

From one side of the valley Abner let out a cry of rage, half scream and half shout, a cry that was primal in its sound. It sounded like the cry of a madman, loud and senseless, and yet the Israelite army seemed to understand, because they echoed with screams of their own.

No words, just screams.

Goliath's shield-bearer dropped his shield and turned to run back to the Philistine battle line, but as he ran past the dead contender's body, David reached out and slashed with goliath's sword, a blow that cut him nearly clean from shoulder to groin. The soldier fell, his body shaking with death spasms, his blood joining Goliath's to paint the white sand red.

The Israelite army thundered down to the valley, keeping close behind their commander who ran like the madman he probably was, stampeding right past David to the Philistine army who had broken all their neat lines and turned to run. It was as if the only thing that had given them courage was their giant of a champion, and now that he was dead, they were finished.

David joined in the pursuit. They chased the Philistines right up the slope of the other mountain for three hours that were a blur of piercing and hacking and slashing.

And screaming.

Some Philistine soldiers even turned to fight, but the onslaught of Israelite soldiers washed over them like waves over rock. In the end, when darkness had fallen completely, the entire mountain was strewn with bodies, from the valley right up to the plain of Philistia and the gates of two cities of Philistine axis lords, Ekron and Gath, where the soldiers had tried to run for refuge.

As David stood, sword in hand, watching the battle wind down, one thought registered in his head: it was over. The battle had not yet finished, but it was over.

And by the mighty hand of Jehovah their God, they had won.

That marks the end of The Boy Warrior. I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for reading.

Thanks for the mention. Let me peruse this story will give my feedback when am through.