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  The harp tuned, he placed it on my lap, arranged my hands to hold it, and plucked a few strings to demonstrate. “The pitch of the longer string is deeper. Those from the shorter strings are higher. Some intervals sound nice when plucked together. If we skip a string or two… this string, this one, and this…”

  My head swam with possibilities, and I could not catch his words. His hands touched my hands, his thigh pressed against mine, and his breath tickled my hair. My bracelets jangled as I strummed a cacophony of disharmony as wild and frothy as my feelings.

  He was so close, I could barely breathe. My shoulders wobbled, and my fingers fluttered over the strings. Tempted to melt into his arms, I pushed the harp back and warned myself to behave as a princess should.

  “Giving up already?” His lips curved with barely concealed amusement.

  “No… I’m just hot. You know, the weather. Can you sing for me?”

  I caught my breath as he sang and picked the strings to the cadence of a rippling brook. The earthy timbre of his voice wrapped around the clean tones of his instrument. Wooing, seducing, trapping—he held me with the promise of his song.

  When he finished, he handed the harp to me, the frame still vibrating. His fingers toyed with my hair, and his warm breath caressed my face. His mouth drew near, eyes intent, seeking permission.

  Hesitant, my lips parted. Curious, my eyes closed. And his lips brushed the corners of my mouth, an invitation to taste, to touch, to hold. I accepted and held my breath as his tongue slipped over mine. A flurry of tingles danced around my waist and trailed down to my toes.

  I clutched the harp, unable to move. Everything was possible, and the world was mine, and life was glorious.

  And at the center of it all was David.

  Chapter 2

  1 Samuel 14:49 Now the sons of Saul were Jonathan, and Ishui, and Melchishua: and the names of his two daughters were these; the name of the firstborn Merab, and the name of the younger Michal.

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  David followed Jonathan’s servant to the stable. The sun brightened the morning haze. He breathed a prayer, half expecting to see Michal running through the yellow field of fennel, her laughter in flight, her cheeks rosy and fresh, her hair bouncing in the breeze.

  He stroked the mane of a mare and fed her a cucumber. Jonathan had lent him clothes, asked him to ride with him. He was here to entertain the king, not fall in love with his daughter.

  The memory of the kiss simmered, honey sweet, just beyond reach. He exhaled deeply. Michal. When would he chance upon her again?

  Jonathan greeted him with a slap on the shoulder. “Ready to ride? My father is pleased with you and orders you to stay. You’re going to train and become his armor bearer.”

  David’s heartbeat jumped. Surely, God had opened this path for him. He could save the king’s life, find favor with him, perhaps earn the hand of his daughter. He bowed. “My prince, I’m honored.”

  “Call me Jonathan and consider me a friend. Do you like it here in Gibeah?” Jonathan mounted his steed in a single leap.

  “Oh, yes, I do,” David said as he jumped onto the mare.

  They trotted through a large grove of olive trees, ancient and full of dark purple fruit. The trees stood angular and bent like gnarly old soldiers. Their peppery scent saluted from mantles of grey-green leaves.

  “Homesick?” Jonathan asked.

  “A bit. But you’ve all been so kind to me.”

  David followed Jonathan across a stream and cantered up the meadow to the sheepfold. Had Michal ever ridden with Jonathan over these fields or hiked through the streambeds? Was she allowed to explore the village of Gibeah?

  Two young women walked down the path with baskets full of grapes while others congregated at the well.

  Jonathan grinned. “I know a few willing maidens in the village.”

  He cast a suggestive glance toward the women while David lowered his face.

  “Your sister, Michal. How old is she?” His throat tightened the moment the words slipped out.

  Jonathan’s grin turned into a frown. “You’re bold, aren’t you? My father would run a spear through you rather than let you talk to her. She’s his favorite child, only fourteen, and destined to wed a king.”

  David pressed his lips together, his heart dropping. She had flinched when he kissed her. Innocent. Lovely. Unattainable. But mine! His fists tightened.

  Jonathan flicked the reins. “Besides, what bride price could you possibly offer a king? Stick to the village girls.”

  They jaunted through a small wooded area and emerged on a dry riverbed. Jonathan broke into a gallop. David kicked his horse sharply, buried his head down and charged ahead. By the time they arrived at the stables, both horses were lathered with sweat.

  Jonathan handed him a circular comb and a stiff brush. “You’re not a bad rider. Meet me at the exercise field after you’ve groomed the horses.”

  * * *

  I wrapped a woolen cloak around my dress and climbed to the guard shack. The afternoon breeze buffeted my face. Below, David trained with my brothers. A peaceful man, he seemed out of place among my boisterous brothers.

  Ever since becoming friends with Jonathan, David had avoided me. My mother’s warnings echoed in my ears. I should have heeded them and not let him kiss me. But oh, how he kissed, so gentle and sweet that I wanted more. Lost in the moment, I tried to kiss him back, but he escaped so abruptly he left his harp in my lap.

  Jonathan picked two wooden shafts and threw one to David. They squared off. In a single move, he slammed David across the chest and sent him to the ground. Melchishua and Ishui laughed and jumped into the fray.

  I pulled my cloak tighter. They jabbed and punched David, jeering and calling him names. I cringed when he fell and cheered inwardly when he staggered back to the fight. They were stronger and more experienced, but David was more agile. His wiry body rolled with the punches, ducking and feinting until my brothers tired.

  When they finished, my brothers peeled off their armor and piled them on David, telling him to clean up. They jostled one another as they strode off, laughing and in good spirits.

  I ran down the steps and found David dragging the weapons back to the armory. His hair matted with sweat, he mopped a hand across his forehead and flashed a disheveled grin.

  “Were my brothers too tough on you?”

  “They weren’t too bad,” he said. “It’s nothing like being the youngest of eight brothers.”

  “Let me help.” I reached for a shield.

  “No, Princess. I’ll get it.” He took the shield and piled a breastplate and a pair of greaves on top.

  I picked up a bow and a few arrows. “So, how’s my father? Do you play for him every night?”

  “Yes, he seems fine.” He balanced the pile of armor and walked toward the armory.

  “Does he treat you well?” I peeked sideways at him, wondering if he saw me unworthy of his attention now that he had Jonathan’s friendship and my father’s approval.

  His lips thinned into an upturned line as his forehead wrinkled. “Well enough. He wants me to be his armor bearer.”

  “Indeed? Does that mean you’re staying longer?” A flicker of hope stirred in my chest.

  David looked at my feet. “As long as I please him.”

  We walked past the garden. He stumbled over a tree root and dropped one of the greaves.

  I hurried to retrieve it and bumped my head on his. The rest of the armor tumbled as David caught my hand.

  “Ow.” I rubbed my head and giggled when he dropped my hand as if it were a hot firestone.

  David set the shield down to reposition the armor. The tips of his ears reddened.

  I tucked the greaves under my arm. “My father hasn’t called me to read to him lately. I wonder if you’ve been reading scripture with him.”

  “No, he hasn’t asked me to read.”

  “I have an idea. What if I read while you strum the harp?” I handed the greaves to the armor ma
ster and hung the bow and arrows on the rack. “I’ll suggest it to him.”

  David didn’t answer. I bent to pick up a short stick, and when I glanced back, he was staring at my hips.

  My cheeks heated, unaccustomed to a man’s intent stare. Yet I was pleased he had noticed me. I wagged the stick at him. “We’d make a fantastic team, wouldn’t you say? Father always loved me over my brothers and sister. And he enjoys your music. All the servants are talking about you. I hear he calls you a son.”

  David blushed, and he turned away from me to pick up the spears and sparring rods.

  While he cleaned the weapons, I ran to the kitchen and returned with a water skin. He sat on a low wall with his elbows resting on his knees.

  I handed him the water. “Will you be too tired to play for us tonight?”

  David drank and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “No, I’ll be fine. Will you—”

  “David!” Jonathan crossed the courtyard. “What are you doing talking to my sister? My father expects you to play at dinner, and my manservant has set clothes out for you in my chamber.”

  Before Jonathan could say more, a servant scuttled to his side and handed him a message. He slid us a disapproving look and disappeared into the building.

  David jumped to his feet. “I shouldn’t be talking to you. Besides, you’ve put me in a difficult position.”

  “Why?”

  “You won’t tell anyone. Swear you’ll say nothing.”

  “About what?” My heart chilled. He had to be referring to our kiss.

  “Look, I must go.” He handed me the skin. “Thank you for the water.”

  “David, wait. Did I do something wrong?”

  “No, you haven’t.” He walked off.

  My mouth hung open. I had been dismissed by a servant boy, and he wanted nothing to do with me.

  * * *

  Torches lined the hallway to the dining hall. David was already there, sitting next to Father. He did not appear to notice me as I made my way to Mother’s side. She sat with her hands clasped, her knuckles bone-white. My father’s concubine sipped wine at a side table.

  David looked unbearably striking in my brother’s princely robes. When Merab glided through the door, his mouth widened. Unbelievably, Father asked Merab to sit next to him. He stood to let her pass, his neck bobbing as he cleared his throat in obvious admiration.

  Merab tapped David’s arm and cupped her mouth to speak to him. They glanced at me briefly and laughed. My stomach grumbled and needle sharp pains stabbed my ribcage. I should never have been born. How could she flirt with him with no care for my feelings?

  My brothers settled down as Father led the prayers. I peeked at David. His eyes were closed with a rosy blush on his freckled cheeks. He breathed evenly, and his mouth moved in obvious devotion to the LORD.

  The prayer ended, and our eyes met. But he tightened his lips and turned away. The pit grew deeper in my stomach. I thought he liked me when he showed me his harp, but now he hated me.

  The servants set platters of fish, parched corn, cucumbers, goat cheese, and bread on the table. My brothers dug into the food while my sister picked at her plate. David stared at his meal like a hungry wolf but did not start eating.

  Mother elbowed me. “Eat, or the boy will starve.”

  I picked up a piece of flatbread and waited to catch his eye. Before he took notice, Merab offered him a piece of fish off her plate. Mother grimaced. “I don’t know what’s gotten into your father, letting a servant sit at our table.”

  Merab graced David with a phony smile. “Do we have the pleasure of your music tonight?”

  David looked at my father, who nodded. A servant handed him his harp, and he settled on the bench between the tables. He smiled at Merab. She blushed and his eyes twinkled as he plucked a series of ascending chords. A dull ache spread from my heart to the tips of my fingers, but I couldn’t pry my gaze from him.

  His deep voice filled the room amidst rippling chords. My father’s eyes were shut, his brows relaxed. Mother tapped her fingers and took a deep breath. Even Ishby, my youngest brother, had stopped fidgeting. A sigh slipped from my lips. I wanted David to be my friend, to walk with me through the meadows and hold my hand. We’d sit under a tree, and he’d play his harp and sing to me alone.

  His voice lifted to praise the LORD for His goodness and wonderful works toward us. When he finished, Father tapped the table with his goblet and my brothers cheered. My heart jittery and pained, I jumped to my feet and clasped my hands. David cocked an eyebrow at me before Mother’s censorious look pressed me down into my chair.

  David took a bow and went back to his seat. Merab leaned over and said something that made him chuckle. Did he know she disdained him? Mocked his poverty and found him unsophisticated? Yet she batted her eyelashes and cooed as if she thought him attractive.

  Servants refilled the goblets of wine and passed out honey cakes. My father ordered the pipers to play. My brothers sang a song of war, and Father dragged David around the room, high-stepping and kicking in a wild dance. Merab giggled and clapped, while I crumbled my honey cake into tiny pieces. Ishby flicked pieces of cake at Merab, landing a few in her hair. Mother would have stopped him, but her eyes were fixed on Father, and she wore a hopeful smile when he winked at her. David and my brothers refilled their wine goblets as Ishby threw a raisin into Merab’s goblet. She jumped up and spilled her wine on David. Giggling, she dabbed a napkin on his robe.

  Mother motioned to Ishby’s nurse, and he ducked under the table to escape. During the commotion, I eased my chair next to Jonathan and wished David would take notice of me. But Father grabbed him. “Son of Jesse, you’ve been training with my sons, haven’t you?”

  David bowed. “Yes, my king.”

  Father held out his hand, and his armor bearer handed him a spear. He gestured to a wooden beam. “Can you hit the beam directly across the room? The one with the spear marks?” Handing the spear to David, he laughed. “Go ahead. Show me what my next armor bearer can do.”

  David took the spear and rubbed his hands. He looked at Merab for courage, and she graced him with a close-mouthed smile. Shifting from foot to foot, David set the spear back over his shoulder and threw it. Everyone gasped as it flew toward Mother’s priceless Egyptian eggshell vase.

  Mother shrieked. The spear thudded just a cubit short of the vase. My father’s cousin Abner guffawed loudly. “Looks like the boy should stick to his harp.”

  Everyone laughed except for David and me. My father slapped his knees and stood. “Maybe he can sing the enemy to sleep.”

  David lowered his head and his face reddened. He yanked the spear from the wall and handed it to my father’s armor bearer. Talk turned to the possibility of another war with the Philistines. I glanced at David while Father waved his hand and adjourned the dinner.

  My father’s concubine yawned loudly and headed out the door. I followed her and went around the side to wait on the path to the servants’ quarters.

  Merab’s flirtatious laughter floated out the window. “Oh, David, you should have seen my mother’s face.”

  They slid out the dining hall and walked around the fountain, arm in arm. She poked his side. “Do you know how much that vase is worth?”

  David didn’t reply. He seemed stiff and nervous. I followed them through the garden, staying well away so they couldn’t see me in the light of the moon. Almost as tall as David, Merab wrapped her snake-like arms around his shoulders.

  “Have you ever kissed a princess?” she said, her voice soft and seductive.

  David shook his head. My heart crumbled, and I bit my lips, tasting blood.

  “Would you like to?” She cupped his cheek and pulled him close. He didn’t answer, so she leaned in and drew him to her lips. My frantic pulse hammered behind my ears. I gripped my fists to keep from crying. Merab had kissed many young men, driven them to obtain outrageous bride prices, only to cast them off as discarded rags.

  No longer able t
o witness the destruction in front of me, I ran to my bedchamber. David wished to court my sister and was ashamed of having kissed me. A heavy stone crushed my chest, and I could not breathe. Blinking, dizzy, screaming inside, I stared out my window at the stars.

  * * *

  David stepped back from Merab. “I really shouldn’t be here with you, Princess. Your father would object.”

  She tapped him with a pointed fingernail. “Stay away from my baby sister. I’ve seen you looking at her. You’re a servant. Don’t forget it.”

  Merab wrapped herself tightly in her shawl and walked away.

  Shame burned his cheeks. He swallowed the growing lump in his throat and walked toward the servants’ quarters. A fist clenched his heart, and he rubbed his temples. Who was he fooling? He had no right to court a king’s daughter. A lowly servant dressed in borrowed clothing. Yet God had anointed him, chosen him to be the next king. Would God also grant him a wife?

  He passed under an open window. A woman’s breath hitched. Michal’s face shone pale in the moonlight. David picked up a pebble and threw it at the corner of the window. She wiped her eyes and looked down, almost smiling before she furrowed her eyebrows and jutted out her lower lip.

  His voice failed him while he stared at her. What could he say? Sorry I kissed your sister. I’m no good. Forget about me. I toyed with your affections. I wounded you.

  She turned from the window and closed the shutters. David blinked. Their kiss vibrated in his memory. Her mouth, so sweet, had trembled, so enticingly. And her voice, the way she said his name, pure adoration. Such verve and persistence in a woman, a girl, was rare. Off-limits. No one but the Prophet Samuel knew of his destiny. She would not give him another chance.

  David walked around the granary and up the wooden steps. He sat on the bench in the guard shack. Their bench. He smoothed his hand over the weathered wood. She had been kind and welcoming. She treated him as an equal. And he had been cruel, as if she had wronged him. Even worse, her father planned to marry her to a king, a foreign king. A daughter of the Law shouldn’t be married to an idol worshipper. What could he do? The dragon of pain turned somersaults in his chest, and his breath steamed in his face. He looked to the heavens and pleaded with God.