Day of War by Cliff Graham

army, summoned from every city, was moving toward Aphek. The Philistines hoped that would be their last campaign against the disorganized Israelites, enabling them finally to destroy Saul and subjugate the people who had conquered Canaanite land so many years before. It was an ambitious military campaign, but like any other it had its drawbacks: it left the entire southern portion of Philistia exposed. The Philistines had to be relying on the hope that their rivals in the south would be too war-weary to invade before they could return.
    That left Benaiah only one option. As much as he wanted to rush immediately to Ziklag and protect his home, he did not know for sure that was where the Amalekites were going. It was possible they would simply raid the coastal cities. Benaiah had no love for the Philistines; the more of their cities that burned to the ground the better.
    Hopefully the Amalekites would see the incredible opportunity given to them by the Philistine army’s foolishly mobilizing every soldier and abandoning their large cities to fate. And once Philistia had been sacked by Amalek, perhaps David could be persuaded to launch an open war with the Amalekites, something that would give Benaiah unending pleasure.
    He would have to travel as fast as possible to reach the army. All he could do was warn David; the rest would be up to him. If he did not think it was necessary to speed back to Ziklag, then so be it.
    Except for his injuries, Benaiah was in extraordinary physical condition. But he needed to stop for breath every hour. His head and shoulders burned as sweat seeped into the cuts. He sat when he became light-headed, annoyed at the effects of blood loss.
    By the time evening fell, the stream he’d been following had merged with several other waterways from other valleys and become a river. The terrain had changed, telling him that the plains were not far. He made up his mind to be out of the hill country before dawn.
    In the open fields of the coastal plain, he would be better able to take a more direct path to Aphek, bypassing the Philistine cities of Gath and Ekron where lone Israelites were harassed. David had been insistent that his men never travel alone through those cities.
    Sitting around the campfires while on campaigns, David had confided in some of his select men bits of what he was planning. He had been anointed with oil as a boy, he told them, symbolizing that he was to become Yahweh’s chosen king. Samuel, the old prophet who had recently died and was buried in Ramah, had chosen him when he was a boy. Samuel told David that he would rule over Israel someday, and in the years since then, Saul had hunted him in every corner of the kingdom. David was looking ahead, trying to subdue the enemies he would face as the ruling king over Israel one day, and his wars in the south were part of that plan.
    Benaiah was among those who argued that David should kill Saul and be done with it. David had had many chances to do so and had refused each time, claiming that Yahweh did not want him to. Benaiah had long since lost patience with that way of thinking. He knew about Yahweh, had studied him in his youth, but after that day years ago, he wanted nothing to do with him.
    All through the night, Benaiah was grateful to be alone with his thoughts as he ran, crawled, leaped, and jogged along the rocks next to the river, which he had guessed by then was the Zephathah. It was the main source of runoff in the spring season from this part of the hill country, but it was still too early in the season for the river to be at full flow. Later, when the rains hit their peak, the route that Benaiah was now taking would be impassable.
    His wounds were finally loosening up and caused him less pain as he ran. He pushed himself hard, faster as the hours went by. The cool night gave him energy, and by the time the sun peeked over the mountains behind him, he had broken into the foothills known as Shephelah.
    The forest was now full