The giant held on to her for a long time before putting her down. His strong hand released its grip on her; the iron bars that were his fingers pulled back and gave her body freedom.
“I WILL RETURN TO DECIDE YOUR FATE.”
Goliath plodded back to the front lines to mock the Israelites.
Wren stretched out her arms and legs to work out the cramps. At least she was free from the giant’s clutches.
But the freedom didn’t last long. Two new soldiers appeared and dragged her back to the tent. They pushed her inside, and she wondered what was going to happen next.
Time passed and pushed the sun below the horizon. The temperature fell and chilled Wren, forcing her to sit in the middle of the tent with her knees pulled up to her chest. A growing wind rustled the tent flaps.
Then she smelled smoke. She peered out from an opening in the tent and saw some Philistine soldiers sitting around a campfire. They were talking, but she couldn’t understand what they were saying. It looked like they were pointing back at something, but the absence of light made it hard for her to see.
As she brought her eyes back to the fire, she saw a lady standing there. The lady looked like her new friend Josephine! Josephine stood and stared at the fire. The logs shifted, sending a shower of sparks upward into the dark night like orange fireflies drifting in different directions.
A handful of the fire sparks floated up over the soldiers and landed on Wren’s tent. The orange embers burned holes in the fabric and landed on the ground inside the tent. Another shower of sparks rose up over the fire and again floated over and landed on her temporary cell. These new embers were larger than the first and not only burned holes in the fabric but also caught the material on fire.
Wren hurried out of the tent expecting to run into a soldier.
But there was no one in sight. She saw a whole section of tents on fire just off to her left. As the flames reached higher into the night sky, a black and yellow butterfly danced away from the fire. The beautiful creature flitted through the dark night and landed on Wren’s arm. A tiny pulse echoed over her skin, coming from the delicate insect as a greeting. Its sheer wings opened and closed, gently, to the slow rhythm of some unheard tune.
How did a butterfly survive the fire?
She looked but couldn’t find Josephine. She did see the Israelites camped on the far side of the valley. That’s where she had to go, but the giant and the army stood between her and them.
She had to do something. The butterfly took flight and disappeared behind the burning tents. Wren followed it as she slipped through the shadows and eventually made her way toward the perimeter of the Philistine camp, careful not to been seen.
A man emerged from the darkness. He wasn’t dressed like the other Philistine soldiers. He moved toward Wren at a quick pace. She took up a fighter’s stance, hands clenched in fists raised together just below her face. Left foot forward. Right foot back. Torso turned so that her left side faced the stranger.
“It’s me,” the newcomer said.
Wren couldn’t make out the man’s face. “David?”
“Wren, yes, it’s me. David!”
The two new friends stealthily made their way to the edge of the camp and looked out on the wide-open valley before them.
“There!” Voices behind them shouted in anger.
Wren looked back and saw a group soldiers pointing at her and David.
They had been spotted.
Where was Josephine? It would be awesome if they could do that flying trick again to escape and land safely back in the Israelite camp.
But the Philistine soldiers were running down the hill now in close pursuit.
And behind them rose another cloud of dark shadows. The swirling bands of black smoke shattered into many pieces. The pieces morphed into the human-looking figures she’d seen earlier.
The horde of soldiers, both men and dark shadows, came after them like rain after thunder and lightning.
David ran.
And Wren ran after him.
Like her life depended on it.