Galen quickly led Ziklag away behind the Philistine tents while everyone in camp still focused their attention on the Israelites across the valley.

Zik complained, “Are you going to walk all the way to the Great Sea before you tell me your idea?”

“I want to make sure nobody hears us,” Galen replied over his shoulder.

Galen passed the final tent and stopped, his eyes bright with excitement. “Zik, I know how to make Goliath change his mind about me!”

“Oh? How?”

Lowering his voice, Galen explained, “I’ll sneak over to the Israelite camp and spy on them! I’ll come back and report to Goliath how many men they have —”

“No!” Zik interrupted, throwing up his skinny arms in protest. “They’ll catch you and you’ll get killed!”

“No, they won’t!” Galen exclaimed. “I’ll be very careful. I’ll wait until after dark —”

“I still say no!” Zik broke in again, his thin voice rising in concern. “It’s too dangerous!”

A voice from behind the tent asked, “What is?”

“Oh no!” Galen muttered under his breath as a stout boy of about twelve stepped into sight, followed by four other boys. “It’s Gath and the other Philistine lords! They must have seen us slip away and followed us.”

Zik didn’t reply because the other boys were close enough to overhear. They swaggered proudly, pretending they were the young lords of the five main Philistine towns of Gaza, Ekron, Ashdod, Ashkelon, and Gath. From these communities, five adult male lords now ruled all Philistines. Each of the five boys had chosen to drop his given name to be known among friends by a town name. Gath had chosen his name because Goliath came from there.

“What’s too dangerous?” Gath repeated, stopping and folding his arms in front of Galen and Zik. Two young Philistine lords flanked Gath on both sides and imitated his stance. Gath was the oldest in the group and a close friend of Leander.

Zik whispered, “Tell him, or they’ll beat us up!”

The five young lords overheard and grinned without humor. Their hands curled into hard fists.

Galen knew that Zik spoke the truth, but his insides lurched at the thought of sharing his grand plan with Gath and the others. Galen sadly recalled other times when the lords had either laughed at one of his ideas or stolen it.

Gath would also tell Leander, and that made Galen’s stomach twist painfully. He imagined those boys going on the spying mission by themselves, leaving Galen behind.

Ashdod, the heaviest of the young lords, broke into Galen’s thoughts. “Maybe you need us to give you a couple of good punches to make you talk!”

Gaza and Ekron sneered and started to say something, but Gath cut them off. “I’ll handle this,” he snapped.

The four other lords fell silent.

Gulping, Galen thought of a risky possibility. “All right, but on one condition. It’s my idea. If you don’t like it, you must promise not to tell anyone until it’s over. And if you do like it, then you must all promise that none of you will claim it was your idea.”

Galen started to add, “And I’ll be the leader,” but decided against it. Maybe, he told himself, they’ll be afraid and not want to go into the enemy camp.

Gath sneered, “We don’t have to promise anything.”

Galen shrugged. “Fine with me. Come on, Zik. Let’s go work out the details.”

Zik’s eyes widened in surprise as Galen turned and started to walk away. Then, apparently realizing that the five bigger boys would force him to tell if he stayed, he called, “Wait, Galen! I’m coming!”

Galen stopped and waited until Zik reached him. As they walked off together, Galen heard the Philistine lords whispering to each other.

Under his breath, Galen whispered to Zik, “That’s a bad sign! I don’t want them to know anything about this, but I’m afraid —”

Gath interrupted with a resigned expression. “You win, Galen! We all promise!”

Galen groaned in disappointment as the other lords nodded in agreement. Now he had to reveal his plan or else the five boys would spread word all over the camp that he and Zik were up to something.

“All right,” Galen replied. “Gather around close so nobody hears, and I’ll tell you.”

Right away Galen was sorry he had disclosed his plan. The five would-be lords whooped with joy at the idea and insisted on going along with Galen to spy on the Israelites. He protested vigorously, pointing out that one person had a better chance of succeeding in the mission than a small group. An argument erupted, so Gath declared that they would ask Goliath’s opinion.

Galen’s mind was in turmoil. What if Goliath didn’t like the idea? Or if he did, what if he approved of Gath’s suggestion that all the boys go? Galen had planned to tell no one except Zik, and then to venture alone into the enemy camp. Galen’s dreams of impressing the giant were starting to shred by the time the seven boys approached Goliath and his Philistine warriors.

The soldiers, with Leander on the edge of the group, sat on the hillside, laughing and talking. Shadows had filled the Valley of Elah. On the opposite hill, the black goat-hair tents of the Israelites were barely visible in the light from their campfires.

Goliath had taken off his armor. Leander silently polished the giant’s helmet as Gath jerked his thumb toward Galen. Before Galen could speak, Gath said, “He has a plan we thought you might like to hear about.”

Galen resented Gath’s use of “we,” but he had to be content that Gath had kept his word and given credit for the idea to Galen. He briefly explained the plan as the camp firelight chased shadows across Goliath’s broad face.

When Galen finished, the other boys and all the warriors silently waited for cues from Goliath on how to react to the proposal.

“So,” the giant’s voice reverberated from his massive chest, “the little ant wants to be a flat-tailed scorpion and sting the Israelites in the night!”

Seeing a chance to salvage his original idea, Galen hastily added, “I’ll go alone, so nobody else will be in danger.”

“No!” Gath exclaimed. “We all go, even little Zik!”

A chorus of agreement came from all the other boys, except Zik. He remained silent.

Leander dropped one of the giant’s shin guards. “Me too!” he exclaimed. “I want to go!”

Galen’s heart seemed to sink with disappointment and anger. Desperately he explained to Goliath, “This plan will work best if there’s only me —”

The giant interrupted. “You want to be a warrior worthy of carrying my shield,” he said thoughtfully. “No one gets to be a warrior by hiding in tents. You may not have done well this afternoon with my shield, Galen, but here’s your chance to grow up a little. Go, spy out the enemy!”

Galen’s misgivings vanished. “Thank you!” he cried, imagining the praise from Goliath the next morning when he heard the good report that Galen would bring him. “I’ll make you proud,” he added heartily.

“Maybe,” Goliath agreed, “but after your failure this afternoon, I think you’d better have company. So, all of these boys will go with you, except Leander!”

“But —” Galen’s disappointed protest was lost in the roar of approval from all except Leander and Zik.

There was only a sliver of moon by the time the boys had each packed their small images of Dagon, the chief Philistine god. These wood carvings of a figure with a man’s head, face, and upper body had a fish for the lower half and fins instead of feet. Dagon was supposed to protect the boys as they crossed the Valley of Elah.

Gath tried to take the lead, but Galen hurried ahead of him and stubbornly set a fast pace to keep his place. His heart thumped hard against his chest, but he wasn’t sure if it was from the fast but silent walking or the fear. At first Galen hadn’t been frightened, especially when all the others were bragging about what they would do to the Israelites if they were older. But as they neared the enemy camp, fear crept into Galen’s mind.

The stillness of the night and the deep shadows of trees and brush on the hillside where the enemy camped caused Galen some doubts. Twice he turned and hissed warnings to the young lords about making too much noise. They walked carefully, making a wide arc before coming up on the back side of the enemy’s hillside camp. There Galen stopped in the dark shelter of some trees.

While the others caught their breath, Galen whispered final instructions. “Remember what each of you is to do. Be very, very quiet. All our lives, we’ve been trained in warrior skills, so use them well. Count the tents in your section and try to see how many men sleep in each. Keep an eye out for any good weapons in sight, watch out for sentries, don’t get seen or caught, and then meet back here as fast as you can.”

Zik asked with a slight tremor in his voice, “What if any of us do get taken prisoner?”

Before Galen could reply, Gath spoke. “You heard what Goliath and the other warriors said. We’re on our own. If anything goes wrong, they’ll claim they didn’t know anything about this trip. That way nobody gets blamed but us. But I intend to succeed!”

Galen reached out in the darkness and laid a comforting hand on Zik’s skinny arm. “Don’t think about what Goliath said. Nobody’s going to get caught.”

Zik protested, “But what if we’re seen?”

Gath made a disgusted sound in the night. “Where were you when that was discussed awhile ago? We all scatter and run. Take care of yourself as best you can.”

“But you’re all bigger and can run faster than I can!” Zik said.

Gath’s mocking laugh came out of the darkness. “Zik, you’re afraid of everything! So maybe you should go back before you get us all in trouble.”

“I make the decisions here!” Galen said sternly, refusing to release his role as leader and the honor Goliath would give him when the mission was a success. “We all go forward.”

“Uh,” one of the young Philistine lords said hesitantly, “I could take Zik back if he’s scared.”

Galen recognized Ekron’s voice. He sounded as if he was frightened too but was trying to hide his fear by offering to help Zik.

“We all stay,” Galen said softly but firmly. “Zik, I could use an extra pair of eyes with me. Come help me out. Everyone else, spread out and be careful!”

Galen heard a disgusted snort from Gath, who no doubt resented taking orders from Galen. But Gath didn’t say anything as everyone silently moved off in preassigned directions.

In moments, again moving as quietly as possible, Galen and Zik stealthily approached the back of the first row of Israelite tents. These were faintly visible from the glow of the campfires, which had burned low.

Galen wasn’t afraid because he was so determined to be a hero. That would have been easier if only he had been there alone. Now he would have to share the glory with the other boys.

Unless, he thought, I can do something so special that it’ll stand out far above what Gath or any of the others do.

He felt the reassuring weight of Dagon in his tunic as he stealthily crouched low, rounded the first tent, and peered inside. Two men snored loudly.

Easing away from that tent, he glanced around to see that Zik was doing the same with the tent in the opposite row. Gliding on away from his friend, silent as a serpent, Galen heard only his racing blood thumping against his eardrums and the snoring of Israelite men.

Galen tried to think of something spectacular he could do to impress Goliath. Maybe I can get inside a tent and take a spear from beside an Israelite!

Barely breathing from excitement, Galen paused in the shadows of the nearest tent and secretly surveyed the whole camp.

There was no sign of the other boys, no unusual sound to give them away. Galen thought he glimpsed a shadowy figure dart from between some tents three rows over. A campfire there flared up briefly as the figure moved. Galen wasn’t sure he had actually seen anyone.

He turned his attention back to the next tent in line. He was now deep inside the camp and far away from the trees and safety.

He noted the number of sleeping warriors and the types of weapons within easy reach of each man: poorly made bows and arrows and crude spears. Fearful the Israelite in front of him would awaken and catch him, Galen bent cautiously and gently felt the spear point.

Just as I thought, he told himself with satisfaction. It’s all wood —even the point. It’s been hardened in the fire, but it’s still very inferior to our Philistine ones of iron or bron —

His thoughts snapped off as the sleeping man stopped snoring and rolled over toward Galen. He froze, holding his breath. His heart tried to beat a hole in his chest.

After agonizing seconds, the soldier began snoring again. Galen still held his breath until he slipped outside the tent, his mouth so dry he couldn’t swallow.

That was close! he thought, glancing around. I didn’t dare risk taking his spear or drinking water. I still need something like that, but not from just any tent! Maybe their leader’s! What’s his name? Saul? Yes, King Saul! His tent must be marked in some special way.

Galen crouched down and probed the rows of tents with eager eyes. For safety reasons, the leader often pitched his tent in the middle of the others.

There! By the dying light of a campfire, Galen glimpsed a pennant flying from a staff in front of a tent three rows away. That must be his! Now if I can just take something from beside his head.

Galen took a careful step and then froze again as someone moved outside the next tent. With a wildly racing heart, Galen waited until the other person passed a campfire. It’s Gath!

Without realizing it, Galen had sucked in his breath when he glimpsed the other boy. In thoughtless relief, he exhaled in a soft rush.

The sound made Gath spin around and leap back. He fell over the dying campfire and involuntarily cried out. He leaped up, frantically beating at flames licking at his clothes. Galen could hear the Israelites in the nearby tents jump up and shout in alarm.

“Philistines! They’re everywhere! Get them!”

Israelites poured out of their tents, weapons in hand, while the alarm cry of “Philistines!” echoed from other areas of the camp.

Trailing smoke but not fire, Gath darted wildly through the tents, racing for his life toward the valley.

Galen knew the other boys were also running, but he fought the temptation. He was farthest from the valley, so he forced himself to stand between the tents while all their occupants chased the fugitives. Galen, frozen with fright, was unnoticed in the darkness.

He recognized Zik’s voice shouting, “Wait for me!”

Galen knew his friend was vainly trying to catch up with the older boys, but they wouldn’t wait for him.

In moments, the entire camp had been emptied as the men pursued shadowy fugitives off the hillside and into the valley now wrapped in the black of night. All alone, Galen felt his heart hammering in fear. Goosebumps rippled down his arms, and his mouth instantly went dry. Trying to control his fright, he started to turn and head uphill into the trees. He planned to circle wide, enter the valley some distance away, and return to his own camp.

Then he stopped and looked back. The king’s flag was still visible in the glow of the campfire.

Galen took a quick breath and sprinted to the tent. He didn’t even break stride as he snatched the staff from the ground. He rounded the tent and raced between the rows, triumphantly heading back for the trees with the trophy in his hand!