David. Allan Boone's Wargon
soldiers of Israel returned. By torchlight they ravaged the Philistine camp.
*
David had been elatedly impelled to run after the Philistines, but was burdened by the heavy head of Goliath, which he was holding by the hair. After a short distance he faltered and stopped. There Abner’s aides found him and brought him, with his grisly load, to the king.
Saul said to him Whose son are you, young man?
David answered I am the son of your servant, Jesse the Bethlemite.
Saul at once sent a messenger to Jesse, saying that David would not be returning home. He would henceforth stay with the king.
*
However, Saul had other matters to deal with, and David found himself lingering outside the royal tent. His blood was still hot and racing from the high excitement. With his cheeks aflame he yearned for more admiration and praise. Rejoicing warriors were returning, laden with booty, but in the flickering light they mostly streamed past him without recognition. He looked from one to another, like a little child wanting attention, but all were wrapped in their own preoccupations. He felt acute disappointment, considering that his life had almost been forfeit and he had earlier killed his first human being. And regretted, for an instant, that it hadn’t been the swine who had abused him.
A soldier carrying a torch was taking Goliath’s elaborate helmet to a special station, where by the king’s order the giant’s large sword had already been put aside as a trophy.
But someone else was approaching empty handed. And from the unquiet dark came such a frank, open, smiling face as David had never seen. The man advanced to him with outstretched hands, admiration shining from his eyes. He was about a dozen years older than David, and his moustache and beard, already well formed, were neatly trimmed. This was Jonathan, the king’s oldest son, acclaimed luminary of many battles. Yet Jonathan loved David unreservedly for what he had done. The younger man could not but cherish that friendly face, and admire the other’s fit muscles and smooth movements.
Jonathan drew David to his private tent. He would have conferred on the new hero his own robe, but it was spattered and smeared. Out of a chest woven of branches he took another of white and scarlet, and gave it to David. And a girdle, and his own sword and bow. David regretted for a moment that he had nothing to offer, but felt that Jonathan would always have access to all that he had.
It was a warrior age, in which bonds between men who soldier meant much more than any ties with women. In a few moments David had gained a genuine and loving comrade.
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