Cavalier

Chapter Eighteen

The group that gathers at the trucks an hour later is nothing like the unit he'd been in charge of back home. Sure, some of the faces are the same, those who decided to abandon Saul and follow David, the ones that call him 'bossman' and trust him unconditionally, but many of them are not. Some, like Abishai's, are too fresh, too new. Others are lined and worn and weary.

David's Mighty Men, take two.

He divides them into groups headed by Jashobeam, Eleazar, and himself and goes over the plan twice. When he's done he leaves the floor open for questions but there are none, just four hundred pairs of eyes looking at him steady and telling him stories and ideas and feelings. Some he wants to hear. Some he does not.

"Let's roll," he says, and they get organized and into the trucks, familiar with the people that they'll be communicating with the most, the ones they'll be responsible for and to on the smallest scale possible. David's in the front truck with Abishai and six other guys, Benaiah and Eleazar are in separate trucks somewhere in the middle of the pack, and Jash and Uriah are in separate trucks somewhere near the back. The rest of his original unit are in charge of the other trucks—everything is under control.

There are fifty trucks in all. Before they head off, trucks on and humming beneath him, David grabs his radio and says, "Check in."

Trucks two through fifty check in. David takes a deep breath. "Joab?"

"Here and scanning the radio waves, sir."

Sir. His nephews learn quick.

"Alright," he says. "We're heading out. Pack up and move if we're not back two days from now, okay?"

This had been the part that he was most hesitant to leave Joab in charge of; the radio is nothing, he's a quick study, but when it comes to actually leading—well, he's only seventeen. It's only two days, if that. He can do it.

"Yes, sir," Joab says, and before David does something like call it off or leave somebody else in charge he nods at Abishai, who starts to roll the truck forward. The people in Keliah need them. They've already been waiting too long. Joab can handle it.

It's a long hour spent in transit to Keliah; they stay off the main roads and keep to side roads only, trying to keep their presence as secretive as possible. David keeps an eye on all of the newbies in his truck but especially his nephew, and while Abishai looks a little pale he's also resolutely determined, hands steady on the steering wheel, prepared to see this through to the end regardless of what the end may bring. David's proud of him, really stupidly proud of him, and Zeruiah is surely going to kill him someday for allowing her boys to do what they're doing but it won't change a thing when it comes to how he feels about them.

Benaiah's truck and Uriah's truck take control of the radio a mere five minutes in and start a good old game of Twenty Questions, and as David listens he's smiling and relaxing further into his seat and if that's what it's doing for him it must be doing wonders for everyone else. He can't hear their laughter but he can imagine it, and it's no good to be distracted but he lets himself just sucked in just a little bit, even as he keeps sharp eyes on the road.

When they're half an hour out, David says, "Boys?"

"Bossman?" Uriah.

"Radio silence from here on in. You know where you're splitting off. Only use it in emergencies. You know what you're doing."

"Yes, sir. Splitting off east at the perimeter and then coming into town from the east side. Gonna hear from you soon, bossman." 

"Eleazar?"