Defending David: Ittai's Journey by Barbara M. Britton

Author:Barbara M. Britton [Britton, Barbara M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical Christian Romance, religious historical fiction, Clean and Wholesome Novels, Religion and Spirituality, Christian prophecy books, ancient world historical romance, Biblical fiction
ISBN: 9781522303527
Publisher: Pelican Book Group
Published: 2021-11-10T00:00:00+00:00

17

Swish. Swish. Swish. Rimona sat cross-legged on the floor of her tiny bedroom brushing invisible dirt from a flute made of ivory. She had not seen one flake of dust on the instrument, but her uncle insisted the flutes must be brushed before they could be wiped with a cloth. Her tedious task hid her from any scouts sent by Absalom. The prince had yet to claim his father’s home.

With every twist of her hand, she prayed for the safety of King David and his family. What she wouldn’t give to be surrounded by Parveda and her children and their God-fearing commander. She’d best not think of Ittai or she would drip a tear on Shamar’s precious ivory. In the presence of her rescuer, she did not fear the next hour. At the moment, she didn’t have full confidence that her uncle would protect her over his precious relics.

Oh, how she missed the embrace of her mother and the comforting arms of her neighbor, Leah. Since her mother’s death, little comfort had settled on Rimona’s soul. Concern for her well-being had come from Philistines instead of her own kin. Eglon would have sold her as a slave to the highest bidder or given her away to settle his own debt. Not a single elder had assured her that they would verify her arrival at the palace.

Harp song filtered through the wall. Truly, the melody of the strings should ease her angst, but knowing the men practiced to praise Absalom’s arrival cramped her stomach. Her uncle should be loyal to God’s anointed king, not to musical instruments, or a rebellious son. Absalom had feigned a touch of her hand on the plains of Etam. Would he desire to touch more of her now that he ruled Israel and rested in a bed beyond the courtyard? May it never be.

She glanced at the mudded ceiling. Lord, keep me safe from harm. Help me to find companions who are loyal to You and Your law.

The song ended.

Silence.

Sandals shuffled on the music room floor.

“Rimona,” her uncle bellowed.

What now? Had he found more flutes to polish? She laid the ivory treasure on her bed mat and hastened toward Shamar’s main music room. She hoped Shamar found her work beneficial, for her heart couldn’t take anymore disparaging remarks about her upbringing or her friends.

Her uncle and his musicians gathered by the row of lyres and drank from cups. Waterskins rested beneath a nearby window.

“Our skins are almost empty.” Shamar scowled at her as if she had purposefully drained the skins. Ittai and Lana had barely sipped a mouthful. Shamar’s students must have drunk their fill. “I cannot expect musicians to play with parched mouths.”

His students had been strumming harps. No flute or shofar had serenaded her this day. She acknowledged the guests with a nod. Her mother had raised her to be hospitable even to the foolish.

“It would be my pleasure to go to the palace and fill the skins.” Surely the generous concubine remained on guard in the kitchen.

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