The second man swung a bronze sickle, trying to push the spear point to the side, but the tool twisted in his hand. The spear tip stopped less than a handbreadth from his chest. The young man looked up with wide eyes, sweat running from his brow into his full, black beard. Dust and sweat darkened his tunic.

     “Hamul, you must do better!” the man holding the spear said. He stepped back, shaking his head. “Let’s do it again.”

     Omri stopped. He had practiced with his older brother in the same way long before his first battle. Asa had shown him how to dodge and strike with a sickle, not simply attack him with a spear, hoping he figured it out on his own. Hamul needed better instruction if he was to have any chance in battle.

     Omri shifted his feet. The camp with his brothers was still a distance away. He should return and learn the battle plan to determine how to distinguish himself tomorrow.

     “Yaah!” The man with the spear thrust again.

     Hamul swung the sickle, and the blade clacked against the shaft, but didn’t deflect the tip enough. He stepped back and crouched again, clutching the tool with white knuckles.

     “Stop!” Omri stepped forward with a hand raised. “Do you think this will train him for the battle tomorrow?”

     The brown-haired man glowered and turned the spear toward Omri. “Who do you think you are?”

     “Omri, ben Zethan. Who are you?” He plunked his spear butt on the ground and met the man’s stare.

     “I am Natan, son of Yada of Kabzeel, a warrior of Judah.”

     “Aren’t you going to show him how to use a sickle against a spear?”

     Natan shrugged. “He’ll learn if he keeps at it.”

     Omri blew out a noisy breath and turned. “Here, hold this.” He handed his spear to a man with red-brown hair and stepped up to Hamul.

     Natan sneered as Omri showed Hamul how to catch the spear shaft in the curved blade rather than try pushing against it with the flat edge. He also demonstrated pivoting his feet and sliding them in a sidestep.

     Hamul nodded. “I see.”

     “Let me show you.” He turned to Natan and waved. “Attack me.”

     Natan readied himself and grinned, then shoved the spear forward.

     In one motion, Omri caught the spear shaft in the curved blade like a horizontal clump of barley and twisted his body to the side, grabbing the shaft with his free hand. He sidestepped toward Natan and rapped Natan’s forearm with the back of the curved blade.

     Natan grunted and stepped back. “I haven’t seen that move before. It is good.” He rubbed his arm.

     Omri handed the sickle back to Hamul and slapped his shoulder. “Of course, use the sharp side of the blade in battle and strike hard. You saw how I grabbed the spear shaft?”

     Hamul nodded.

     “You may not be able to do that, but practice it. Remember, when an enemy attacks with a spear, you have to get closer to him than he does to you. You must have quick hands and feet. Practice a few times, going slow, then practice faster.”

     “Thank you,” Hamul said.

     Omri nodded, took his spear, and continued through the camp as twilight deepened.      He passed other groups of men, some demonstrating ways to use weapons, others sitting in quiet conversation. A few men stood, lifting arms in prayer.

     He reached the camp of men from his village. Some were already stretched on the ground, trying to sleep. Asa, his oldest brother, sat with other men of the village. 

     “Where have you been?” Asa said, as Omri sat and joined the circle two places from him.

     Omri sighed. Would he always have to answer to Asa? “I was just looking over the camp. I stopped on my way back to show a young man some of the tips you once showed me.”

     “Hmm. Go, get your cloak and get some sleep.” Asa waved him away like a fly.

     How could Asa dismiss him like a child? Asa acted like he was the village chieftain, but he hadn’t been given that position. Not yet. The other men said nothing, just peered at him through the growing starlight. 

     Omri cleared his throat. “What’s the plan for tomorrow?”

     “Why do you need to know?” Asa said.

     “Because I am part of our village and this army? Why not tell me?”

     Asa shrugged. “It will be like other battles. We’ve been assigned a place, and we will attack the enemy. Now get some sleep. I’ll wake you when needed.” Asa gestured at the others seated around him. “I will wake you all later. May Adonai give us victory.”

     The men, including his brothers Eli and Zedekiah, rose and murmured their replies before stepping away from the circle. Omri stood, but Asa remained seated. The others wandered away and found places to sleep under the stars. No fires lit the vast camp as voices murmured around them.

     Omri sat again beside Asa. “Tell me the battle plan. Where have we been assigned?”

Asa had no reason to keep the knowledge from him. How could he find opportunities to earn the king’s favor unless he knew more details? If he were assigned near the center of the line, he might be able to attack the Amalekite king.

     Asa shook his head and sighed heavily. “If you’d been here earlier, you would have heard the plan. You should get some rest now. We’ll be leaving before the middle of the night.”

     “So soon? I thought we were closer to the Amalekites. Will we really walk half the night before the battle begins?”

     Asa leaned toward him. “Keep your voice down so the others can rest. We will leave early because there are only two ways to enter the ravine where the Amalekites live. Most of the host will approach the wide mouth where the river runs out. We’ve been assigned to a group that will sneak into the ravine a different way, using a narrow trail at the far end near a waterfall. We have to circle to the far side of the canyon, pick off the guards at the top using slings, and descend the trail to get into position before the main attack at first light.”

     Omri’s gut tightened. “We will attack from the rear.”

     “Yes. No one will escape. The prophet has declared that we kill all of the Amalekites.”

     “I know that.” Why did Asa have to remind him of something every man in the host had heard and discussed?

     Omri rolled his shoulders, trying to ease his tension. The plan might be good for Israel, but not for him. How could he ever gain the king’s favor if he attacked from the rear? There must be a way to fight in the main group, closer to King Saul. 

     He picked up a pebble and tossed it as if a fire burned before him and the stone were a twig. “How many men are attacking in your group?”

     “Five thousand, from several villages in Benjamin and Judah. You have nothing to fear.”

     “I’m not afraid.” He swallowed and lowered his voice again. “I just want to fight with the main group where I can face the enemy, not attack their backs.” Asa would never approve if he told him why he really wanted to stand in the main line. At forty, Asa was old enough to be his abba and protected him like one.

     “I’m sure once the attack starts, many Amalekites will turn to face us. We will have honor.”

     He reached out and grabbed Asa’s arm. “You don’t need me. I’m no good with a sling, especially in starlight. Besides, you have thousands of men. Let me go with the main group.”

     “We don’t need your sling, just your spear. You are my responsibility, and you will fight with us.”

     He pounded a fist into his knee. “I don’t need you to watch over me.”

     Asa snorted. “Brother, you are still a young man. You only have one infant. I have four sons and two daughters. My oldest son will marry next year. You are barely older than he is. Now get some sleep.” Asa rose and strode through the dark camp, filled with the shapes of men trying to sleep.

     Omri slumped and rested his head in his hands, elbows on his knees. Knowing his brother, Asa would be watching him until the time to leave. He needed to break free of Asa, to find a way to fight near the king. It was the only way to provide a better life for Deborah and Beker. Tomorrow, when the battle began, he’d find a way to show his valor, and Asa wouldn’t stop him.

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