Jonathan

Jonathan slammed open the door to his bedchamber and brushed past Maor, his personal servant.  “Your majesty, I heard what happened.  Are you okay?”  Maor picked up the robe Jonathan discarded on the floor.  Jonathan opened the wardrobe and started digging, tossing clothes out. 

“Where are they?” 

            “What?” Maor went to him.  Jonathon was like a madman. 

            “My leathers.  Do you not put things where they should be?”  Jonathan didn’t slow down.  Maor put his hand on the prince’s arm to make him stop.  He felt the muscle tremoring.   

            “They’re on the desk, Sire, where you asked me to lay them for the morning,” Maor said softly.  Jonathon looked at the servant like he was crazy, then turned to the desk.  He  pulled his tunic off as he walked to the clothes.  Instead of dressing, though, he sank into the chair next to them and put his head in his hands. 

            “He threw a spear at me.” Jonathan said. “I swore to David he was wrong.   I’m such a fool!”  Maor didn’t say anything.  He knew his prince’s moods and he’d already heard of the events at dinner from a kitchen maid.  This wasn’t a time to respond.  Jonathan abruptly stood.  “Help me get ready.  I need to warn him.”

            Again Maor remained silent as he helped Jonathan change to his archery attire.  “My father proved tonight he wants David dead.  I need to warn him.”  Now Maor understood why the prince insisted his clothes be ready for early morning.  It wasn’t for archery practice. 

“Are you crazy, Sire?  You’ve already angered your father enough to throw a spear at you.  That’s just with words.  Who knows what will happen if he finds out that you went to David and warned him?” 

“Then don’t tell him.”  Jonathan said.  “David’s my best friend.  I won’t let anybody hurt him.  Not even my father.” 

“It’s your throne your father is trying to protect.”

“What do you know of that?”  Jonathan was harsher than he meant to be.  Maor grinned at him, though, in an attempt to calm the man.

“You mean all that nonsense about the prophet saying David would take the crown away from your father so the King is out to kill him? Nothing, your majesty.  Just palace gossip is all.”

Instead of calming him, Jonathon was angrier now. First David and now his servant.  How could Jonathan have missed it?  He threw a leather glove. It landed without a sound.  The next victim of his ire was a gold wash basin.   It clanged off the wall and clattered across the floor with a more satisfying clamor.  “It seems everyone but me is privy to this information.”   Why couldn’t his father and friend allow God to bring peace between them?

Maor seemed to read his mind. He stopped the prince before the water pitcher was sacrificed.   “Your father and best friend are at odds with each other. You care about them.”

“I’d talked to my father before.  He said he wasn’t going to harm David.”

“He said what he wanted you wanted to hear.” 

“That’s what David said, too.”  Jonathon knew his father and others didn’t understand his friendship with David.  They thought him crazy for protecting the man who had taken his place as heir.  He often prayed that God would give them the faith he had.  “My father’s advisors tell me I shouldn’t be loyal to David.  They think I should be jealous for the crown.  What do you say?” 

“Me?  I’m just a humble servant.”  Maor made a show of picking up the clothes Jonathan had thrown out of the wardrobe.  It had Maor’s desired effect. Jonathan laughed at him.   

“Humble servant?  You?  But, your words are worth more than 20 court advisors.”

Maor thought for a moment before responding.  “It seems to me it’s Yahweh’s advice you should be seeking.”

Jonathan sat on the edge of his bed. Jonathan knew what God had spoken against his family.  “It’s no longer my crown, Maor.  Because of my father I have no right...”  Jonathan stopped himself.  No matter how much he trusted his servant, he wasn’t going to be disrespectful to his father and his king.

“I know, your majesty. Palace gossip, remember?”  He handed Jonathan his bow.   “I know you’re anxious, but don’t you think it might look suspicious, you practicing at night? Maybe the original plan of going out in the morning is better.” 

Jonathan wanted to hurl the man across the room.  He was irreverent and infuriating, but he was also right.  “You fool.”  Jonathan had calmed down, silently thanking Yahweh for an honest, level-headed servant.

“If I’m a fool, what does that make your advisors?”

“Useless, of course.”  No, not just servant, Jonathon thought, but friend.  One of two that Jonathan could name.  He knew the other would keep until the morning. 

“Yahweh will protect him, Sire, just like He did you tonight.  Trust in Him.”

“I know, Maor.  But He doesn’t make it easy, does He?”

 Author's Note:  I love the friendship between Jonathan and David.  I know we all hear Saul's and David's POV.  Jonathan is so interesting, though. This is a "missing scene" from the events recorded in I Samuel 19-20.