Free Michal by Jill Eileen Smith

Michal’s hair.
    “Ow!” Michal jerked away and snatched one of Merab’s dark braids, snapping her head backward.
    “Oooo!” Merab lost her balance and fell to the roof’s dusty floor amid the sound of ripping fabric.
    “Move out!” Michal heard David shout. She turned back toward the soldiers. A thousand men fell into line, some on donkeys and horses, others on foot. She watched David mount a sleek black stallion, lean toward its mane to rub its neck, and then sit back in a comfortable stance. Even the horse listened to him.
    “I’m going to kill you, Michal!” Merab squealed after scrambling to her feet and examining her torn robe.
    Michal pulled her attention from David to Merab. “Do not fight with me, Merab. I’m tired of you treating me like a troublesome, pesky child. I’m as much a woman as you are. And don’t you forget it!”

    A number of fires dotted the open field where David’s men made camp for the night. In another day or two they would advance on the enemy stronghold, but for tonight they huddled together, going over battle strategies.
    The buzz of voices floated to David on the evening’s cool breeze. He stood on a low ridge overlooking the group, his gaze traversing the blackened sky.
    Teach me, Lord. Train my hands for this war. Show me what You want me to learn from Saul’s treachery, and let me come out stronger for it.
    As if in answer, a plethora of dazzling stars burst like sparks across the expanse of heaven. Peace settled over him, replacing the confusion Saul’s hatred caused. God had not abandoned him.
    I praise You, O Lord, for You will not forget Your servant.

    Michal slipped into the antechamber connected to her father’s audience hall and settled on a gilded couch to watch the proceedings. When the last delegate delivered the final message of the day, Michal’s breath came harder, a bead of perspiration trickling down her spine. It was the best place for her meeting with the king, especially since Merab avoided the audience chamber unless David was there playing his lyre.
    She waited until the scribes rolled up their scrolls and Abner and her brothers rose to leave before opening the side door and walking with a casual air toward the king.
    “Did you want something, Michal?” Jonathan asked as she drew closer to her father.
    “I want to see Abba.” She glanced at her father, gauging his mood. Timing was everything. “Alone,” she added, giving her brothers a childish pout. Let them treat her like a little girl who simply needed her father this one last time. The sacrifice to her adulthood was worth it if she got her wish.
    “Come here, my dove.” Her father’s use of her childhood nickname took her back a pace. Maybe the sacrifice was in fact too great. But the thought of David spurred her forward.
    She reached the throne and knelt at her father’s feet, taking his right hand between both of hers.
    “What can I do for you, Daughter?” Saul asked, looking down at her with the exact benevolent expression she was hoping for.
    “Send them away first.” She turned her head to indicate everyone left in the room.
    “You heard the girl.” Her father’s light laugh lifted her spirits. She had picked a good day.
    When the room emptied of everyone but the guards near the door, Michal stood and leaned close to her father’s ear. “I know a secret.” It was the way they used to begin their private games in the earlier days of her childhood, during her father’s first years as king—before the demons came.
    Saul laughed outright. “Tell me your secret, little dove,” he said, playing along.
    “Merab has a suitor. A wealthy merchant.”
    “Does she now?” He cupped her cheek.
    Michal nodded against his open palm. “His name is Adriel of Meholath.”
    “Indeed?”
    She kissed his weathered cheek. “I thought you’d like to know.” She stepped back, holding her breath. Would he take the bait?
    “Thank you, Daughter.” He smiled, signaling the end to their