New excerpt from "Fires of War"
As we move forward with the publishing process, I will be posting more excerpts from the manuscript for those of you who are early readers. Some excerpts will be longer, some shorter. I will be sure to avoid any “spoilers,” although, if you are familiar in any way with the story of David, it’s pretty difficult to hide what happens. The new publisher is planning to release the entire series (all five books) in the coming year, and they will be newly revised and updated. Praise and Arrows - CG
Uriah is in darkness, and then there is a faint light, like lightning in a distant storm, and, indeed, he is suddenly running through a storm. The scene emerges in his vision, a scene of panic and rain. Rain everywhere, water at his feet. Water!
How he has been thirsting. Oh, for a drink of it! But he needs to concentrate. No one is to drink before the king.
He falls into fire again, the covering that consumes the enemies of Yahweh. He sees his arms moving and killing with a speed and quickness unknown to him. His legs burn, then his chest, then his very heart.
Over the hills, through the forest, to the well itself. He plunges the pouch into the water. Draws it out. These things he remembers, and he watches them now.
Now he kills Philistine after Philistine along the road from Bethlehem, the storm and darkness of that night still so vivid before him.
Oh, how he knew the covering that night! How he knew power!
Then his bow appears in his hands, and arrows fly and kill men, but he does not understand what he is doing. The sword comes back into his grip, slick with rain. He yells. Philistines plead for their lives.
He charges forward along a path one final time. He remembers now. He knows what is about to happen.
There are no more Philistines. No more blood to spill. The fire inside of him roars a final time, then slips out of his chest and dissipates.
Uriah lies on his side, crumpled, broken from exhaustion and thirst. He opens his mouth and pours the water into his throat. The feeling of the water rushing down his throat brings lust—lust for comfort. For home.
He catches himself. He has failed. He has let the men down. He has taken a drink before the king.
He has let the king down…
As he wakes, Uriah feels the cold stone on his face. It is still dark. His body cramped overnight, and sitting up is a labor. His neck aches. A pounding, driving headache as he sits up. Even his eyes hurt. Somewhere inside of him, it feels like he swallowed a barrel full of salt.
The wine.
He remembers it now. The wine that flowed last night. The king smiling, slapping his back. They listened to the court musicians play lyres and tambourines and drums late into the night.