David The Madman

00:00:00 Speaker 1: Previously on the Chosen People. 00:00:03 Speaker 2: I will have that boy's head no matter what it takes. Let me ask you something, David, what will you do if Saul catches you? Will you slay him as you did the Giant. 00:00:23 Speaker 3: Of course, not Saul is trouble, but he isn't the monster. 00:00:28 Speaker 2: We all have monsters within us. Young David, you'll best remember that. You'll find it is far easier to slay the ones of the battlefield than losing your own heart. 00:00:41 Speaker 3: Go go find the boy to rest until he has brought to me. I will have his head mounted over my throne. The world will know that I prevail over the Giant. Flare, Come out, David, we know you're there. 00:00:58 Speaker 1: So he rode tod Gath toward the land of his enemies, praying that God's mercy would find him even in exile. 00:01:14 Speaker 4: Shelloh, my friends, from here in the holy Land of Israel. I'm y l estein with the International Fellowship of Christians and Jews, and welcome to the Chosen People. Each day we'll hear a dramatic story inspired by the Bible, stories filled with timeless lessons of faith, love, and the meaning of life. Through Israel's story, we will find this truth that we are all chosen for something great. So take a moment today to follow the podcast. If you're feeling extra grateful for these stories, we would love it if you left us a review. I read every single one of them, and if you're interested in hearing more about the prophetic, life saving work of the Fellowship, you can visit IFCJ dot org. Let's begin. 00:02:03 Speaker 1: The market place of Gath swarmed with voices. Merchants bellowed over one another, shoving fruit and cloth in the faces of unwilling buyers. Beggars crawled at the feet of the crowd, their faces hollow with hunger. Smoke from sizzling meat curled into the sky, mixing with the stench of filth and live stock. David moved through the chaos, his steps swift but measured. He kept his head low, his hood pulled over his curls, his cloak wrapped tightly around the sword of Goliath strapped to his back. His eyes flicked upward. Soldiers stood along the roof tops, their gazes scanning the streets like hawks. David pressed himself against a wall and exhaled slowly. Gath was a city of giants, not just in men, but in stone and steel. The buildings loomed high and uneven. Jagged monoliths of iron and rock, idols dagone lined the streets, their grotesque faces carved into stone. Why am I here? David's exile had brought him to the door step of his enemies. Saul would never think to look for him here. But perhaps he had miscalculated. Perhaps in seeking refuge, he had only hastened his doom. He turned his head, scanning beyond the chaos of the city. Just past the market, beyond the clustered buildings, the land sloped into hills. If he could make it beyond the city's walls, he could find shelter in the countryside. He inhaled, steadied himself and stepped forward, but he didn't get far. Two Philistine's soldiers crashed into him, their weight forcing him to the ground. The impact sent him sprawling. Instinct took over. David twisted his body, wriggling free, just enough to drive his elbow into one man's mouth. Blood spattered against the dirt. The soldier reeled back with a grunt, but the other retaliated, slamming his boot into David's ribs. Pain flared through his side. David rolled gasping, but there was no time to wallow. He launched himself to his feet and ran. The streets were a maze of bodies and carts. Cries of alarm rang out behind him. He could hear the soldiers gaining ground. He leaped onto a cart, using the momentum to propel himself forward. His hands caught the edge of a roof, and with a grunt, he pulled himself up below the soldiers skidded to a stop. Looking up in frustration, David did not hesitate. 00:04:52 Speaker 3: He ran. 00:04:53 Speaker 1: The rooftops were uneven, but he managed to navigate them. He bounded across the gaps. The Philistines shouted, scrambling to keep up. Then trouble. A wide gap stretched ahead of him, two wide. David's pulse pounded. He had no choice. He forced himself into a sprint. The ledge neared, then he jumped for a breath. He was weightless. His ribs hit the ledge and he began to slide down until his fingers dug into the stone ridge. His feet kicked against the wall, straining for a crack to help him up. With a growl of effort, he pulled himself over, rolling onto his side before scrambling back to his feet. He was almost there. Just one more rooftop, one more leap, and he would be free. Then pain surged through his thigh. An arrow struck his leg with a searing bite. David gasped and faltered. He collapsed down onto the dirt below his hands. Clutching his thigh, he forced himself up, blinking against the pane. Shouts echoed behind him. A dozen Philistine soldiers rushed toward him, blades drawn. David's vision blurred with exhaustion, but he would not go down. Like a dog with a roar, he unsheathed Goliath's sword and charged, Come. 00:06:21 Speaker 3: At me, Philistine dogs. 00:06:23 Speaker 1: Ah, they advanced. David swung with reckless fury, each strike, fueled by hunger, pain and desperation, Steel met steel. The clang of weapons rang through the air as he fought like a man with nothing left to loose. But even David could not fight them all. They overwhelmed him, knocking him off his feet. He lashed out, but a heel caught his wrist, forcing his arm down. He snarled, thrashing, but a blade pommel cracked against his temple. Darkness swallowed him whole. The last thing he heard was the laughter of his enemies as they bound his hands in ropes. David awoke to the slow drip of water echoing against stone. His body was racked with shivers, his tunic damp from the cold, slick floor beneath him. The air carried the stench of mildew and rot. His head pounded a dull, persistent ache where the Philistine had struck him. His leg throbbed, though when he glanced down he saw it had been wrapped in rough linen. It was a shallow wound. It would heal. The walls around him were narrow and jagged, pressing in on him like jaws. He traced his fingers along the damp stone, his breath coming out in shallow puffs. He was in a prison, dug beneath the palace, most likely above him through the cracks of a wooden door set into the ceiling. Flickering torchlight cast trembling shadows along the walls. Footsteps echoed beyond. Then he heard Philistine voices, we have him. David's breath caught. He inched forward, straining to hear more. 00:08:22 Speaker 3: King David the giant Slayer took ten of us to wrestle him down. 00:08:27 Speaker 1: David's heart pounded. King David, the title sent ice through his veins. Another voice joined in, skeptical, is the. 00:08:38 Speaker 2: Giant slayer also the king of Israel? 00:08:42 Speaker 3: He must be. You heard the songs, haven't you? Saul A struck down thousands, but David his ten thousands. There is a song for a king, the Laws of Katarim the man he would be made king. 00:08:56 Speaker 1: David clenched his fists. This was worse than he thought. If they believed he was also the rightful King of Israel, they would not hesitate to execute him. He had to think quickly. He needed to make himself appear small, broken, no threat at all. I can't be the giant Slayer. I had to be someone else, something else. His eyes darted around the cell, scanning for anything he could use. The walls to his left were rough, jagged, but on the right, a smoother section caught his eye. Faded carvings etched into the stone, letters of a language he did not recognize. To him, it was nonsense, babbel. That was when the idea struck him. David reached down his fingers searching the damp floor until they found a small, jagged stone. He broke it against another rock, splintering it into three uneven pieces sharpen to carve, he moved swiftly, inscribing more erratic markings alongside the faded symbols, deepening the illusion. If they believed he had lost his mind, if they thought the mighty Giant Slayer had been reduced to a raving, broken fool, perhaps they would release him. David gritted his teeth and carved faster. The throne room of Gath was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of sweat, fire and old wood. Akish sat upon his heavy seat, carved from the trunk of a mighty cedar, its dark surface worn smooth by time and war. The pelts of bears draped over the back above his head. Swords taken from slain kings and warlords lined the walls, a brutal testament to his victies. The firelight made them gleam like the eyes of hungry beasts. 00:11:05 Speaker 3: We have him, your majesty, David, the graphic, the Giant Slayer, The scorge of our people rats in your dungeons. 00:11:13 Speaker 1: Even now, Akish leaned forward, his wide frame stretching the seams of his tunic. His lips curled into a cruel smile. 00:11:24 Speaker 3: Gorthak, the Hebrew king is mine, The Hebrew king is mine. 00:11:34 Speaker 1: The hall erupted in cheers. His men stumped their feet and pounded their fists against their chests. David, David, the giant slayer, the man who had humiliated their champion, slaughtered their raiders and turned their victories to ash was his. At last, I will break him, I will make him a servant of gas. I will send him crawling back. 00:12:02 Speaker 3: To his people as a beaten dog. 00:12:05 Speaker 2: And they will know that Ashish is greater than their greatest champion, sagaras ah Dagon. 00:12:15 Speaker 1: He stood, his heavy steps echoing as he strolled toward the dungeon. His men followed, their torches, flickering against the damp stone walls. The further they descended, the colder it became, the walls tripped with moisture, the air thick with rot. Akish relished the thought of David weeping in the dark, of the man who had once stood so tall, reduced to nothing but shivering bones. Then a sound reached them. Low, at first a murmur, carried through the tounuels like the whispers of spirits lost in the deep. Then a moan, long and keen bounced off the stone walls. Growing louder and more erratic, Akish slowed his stride. His men exchanged wary glances. What is that sound? 00:13:12 Speaker 2: Is there a hound loose in the dungeons? 00:13:15 Speaker 1: No, my King, that's coming from a howl split the air, shrill and wild. The soldiers flinched. 00:13:24 Speaker 3: That sound is coming from Graft's dungeon. 00:13:27 Speaker 1: Akish stepped forward and wrenched open the heavy wooden door. Torchlight flooded the cell. David was crouched in the corner, naked, his body shivering with feverish tremors. His fingernails scraped against the stone, carving meaningless symbols into the walls. His lips moved ceaselessly, muttering a string of nonsense, his voice rising and falling like the chance of a mad prophet. At the sight of the torchlight, David recoiled, shielding his face. He howled like a wounded animal, spittle running down his beard. His head jerked, his body convulsted. Akish wrinkled his nose in disgust. 00:14:13 Speaker 2: This is the champion of Israel. 00:14:15 Speaker 3: The scoorge on our people. 00:14:19 Speaker 2: He soiled himself. 00:14:22 Speaker 1: David shrieked again, flailing backward, his eyes wild and unseeing. Akish, turned sharply, grabbing one of his soldiers by the collar and shoving him against the wall. You didn't tell me he'd gone. 00:14:36 Speaker 3: Mad by king. He fought like a lion when we took him. He was not like this before. 00:14:43 Speaker 2: If I wanted a raving fool in my hallways, I would have plucked one from the alleyways. 00:14:48 Speaker 3: Git rid of him. He's not worth the trouble. 00:14:51 Speaker 2: There'll be no glory in keeping him or killing him. 00:14:55 Speaker 1: Behind the closed door, David listened as the footsteps were treated. His chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths. Then slowly he smiled. The rules had worked. There would be no glory in keeping him now, no satisfaction in slaying a man who had already lost his mind. A short time later, the cell door swung open. Rough hands grabbed him and bound his wrists. A sack was pulled over his head. The sack was torn from his head, and the bindings loosened. A boot struck him in the back, sending him sprawling into a shallow stream. The soldiers left without a word. David remained where he had fallen, his hands pressing into the slick riverstones, his breath ragged. After a moment, he pushed himself up and waded to the shore. His clothes lay in a heap nearby. He dressed, ran a hand through his tangled curls, and turned toward the hills. The night was still, the stars cold and distant. David set up camp and built a fire, feeding it carefully and making sure every coal touched another. He sat before it, watching the flames rise and fall, his fingers twitching as if plucking a harp. For all his cunning, for all his victories, he had done things he never thought he would. He had stolen, lied, played the fool. What other compromises would he make to survive? David exhaled and lifted his eyes to the heavens. 00:16:52 Speaker 3: Lord, sustain me. 00:16:54 Speaker 1: He had eaten bread, but bread alone would not be enough. He needed something more. He needed a purpose. 00:17:09 Speaker 4: If your faith has been kindled by this podcast and it has affected your life, we'd love it if you left her review. We read them, and me personally, I cherish them as you venture forth boldly and faithfully. I leave you with the biblical blessing from numbers six IV. Hashem vishmerechra yeah Heir, hashempanave ele y sa hashempanavelera shaloon. May the Lord bless you and keep you. May the Lord make his face shine upon you. May he be gracious to you. Made the Lord turn his face towards you and give you peace. 00:17:51 Speaker 1: Amen. You can listen to the Chosen People with You isl Eckstein add free by downloading and subscribing to the pray dot Com today. This prey dog com production is only made possible by our dedicated team of creative talents. Steve Gattina, Max Bard, Zach Shellabarger and Ben Gammon are the executive producers of the Chosen People with Yiele Eckstein, edited by Alberto Avilla, narrated by Paul Coltofianu. Characters are voiced by Jonathan Gotten, Aaron Salvado, Sarah Seltz, Mike Reagan, Stephen Ringwold, Sylvia Zaradoc, Thomas Copeland, Junior, Rosanna Pilcher, and the opening prayer is voiced by John Moore. Music by Andrew Morgan Smith written by Aaron Salvato, bre Rosalie and Chris Baig. Special thanks to Bishop Paulinier, Robin van Ettin, Kayleb Burrows, Jocelyn Fuller, and the team at International Fellowship of Christians and Jews. You can hear more Prey dot com productions on the Prey dot com app, available on the Apple App Store and Google Play Store. 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