Covenant of War by Cliff Graham

Benaiah had told him that the handle of the spear he was using was so slick from the blood and sweat of their fight that he was unable to hold the weapon firmly.
    Keth looked at the jagged flesh at the edge of Benaiah’s dark hair, briefly wondering what it would have been like in the pit with a monster like that. He shook his head. “We should go to the caves,” he said, patiently prodding Benaiah.
    “He might remain at Hebron,” answered Benaiah.
    “He will need to defend the passes. We can’t let Philistia isolate us from the north.”
    “You go to the passes or the caves or wherever you feel is best. I am going straight back to Hebron,” Benaiah snapped.
    Keth lowered his eyes. “I know your wife is in Hebron, but thatis not Ziklag. Brave men guard the city. Trust them. The caves are between us and Hebron. If David and his army are not there, we can continue to the city.”
    Benaiah inhaled sharply, then apparently thought better of lashing out at his friend again. Keth knew that after several disasters while Benaiah was away, including a long-ago raid where Amalekites killed his daughters and raped his wife, Benaiah would not leave her alone when there was a threat.
    “Is she well?” Keth ventured.
    Benaiah shrugged his shoulders and nodded.
    “Your sons?”
    Benaiah nodded again. “They looked a lot more like her than me before we left.”
    “Praise Yahweh for that.”
    Benaiah looked away to hide his grin. “Hopefully they still do. I am worried that they will look like me. No woman will take them.”
    “Eleazar mentioned that he wanted to betroth two of his daughters to them,” Keth said as he shifted his back against the rock. He held out a piece of dried goat meat, which Benaiah took and promptly bit off a piece.
    “Good. Maybe then I will get the money he owes me.”
    “I think we should go to the caves first, brother, and then return to Hebron from there if nothing is happening. It is not too far out of the way. But I am with you in whatever you decide.”
    Benaiah leaned over and looked down the valley. It was clear of Philistines at last. “There are far too many soldiers out here just to assassinate tribal leaders. I think troops are converging from the Philistine outposts.”
    “To where?” asked Keth.
    “If they are invading, it will be Pas Dammim, in the Elah Valley.”
    “Decide, my friend. We are going to run out of water soon. None of the streams are flowing, and we don’t have time to dig.”
    Benaiah nodded. Keth watched him scratch his head thoughtfully.
    Then he was up and moving. “The caves,” he said, and Keth followed him.
    David rolled over and faced the three of them again. He fumbled with a fig in the bowl and tossed it into his mouth. Eleazar saw such age and weariness in his countenance that he thought once more how remarkable it was that David was only thirty years old. Each man present and nearly all of the senior commanders of his army were at least seven years older than him.
    “What else?” he continued.
    It was as though the confrontation had never happened. Eleazar glanced at Josheb, who seemed content. At least the necessary words had been spoken. Whether they were heeded was between the king and Yahweh.
    “Your men in the towns of Judah are setting about preparing their own units for the next campaign season,” Josheb answered, extending a peace offering to his king, which David accepted with a gentle nod of his head.
    The
gedud
, some of David’s old outlaw companions, had been placed throughout the land of Judah as the administrators and landowners of sizeable populations. This rewarded them for their service and was also a clever way for David to protect his interests, since they would be battling over the fate of their homes if an invasion ever took place. The lands of Judah had become a mixing bowl of different nations and tribes who had been aligned under the service of David; the actual tribe of Judah was proud of their native son but wary about