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Sons Of The Flaming Throne – Ch. 28 | KT OLLA

WITH Jerusalem placed behind them, David and his large company pressed further away from home. Away from home and all things pleasant.

At the end of that road they plied was Mount Olive, the famous highland of Israel. And in the distance, it sat lonely and unoccupied as though waiting for them.

But every step the travelling crowd took was wearying. Particularly those of their leader and king, David. His feet were log heavy, as the heart despaired of life itself.

Now it took up until dusk before Mount Olive came up in sight. But just as the hope of a brief rest appeared, a daunting news caught up with their pace.

‘Alas, Your Royal Majesty!’ cried a young official. ‘What shall we do now?!’

The king could not place what was amiss to make his sudden lament necessary.

‘What is it, young man? Will you add more flow to our tears? What is it you want to say?’

The young man had just caught up with the moving crowd from town. So he announced what he found behind.

‘My lord, the Voice of God has left us! Ah, the Voice of God and Reason! He’s left us, Your Majesty!’

David’s was puzzled. Then the words quickly made sense, a frightening one.

Just about then the speaker dropped the canon.

‘Ahithophel has decamped, my lord! He has joined himself to Absalom! And now we’re done for!’

David looked around, dazed and shaken. As he didn’t know when his adviser deflected.

He’d only been waiting for the wise man all the whole time. So, he’d trusted the man was going to catch up with them when he left town.

Now he realized that the sage had got this in plan all along. It dawned on him then that he’d been fooled.

Yes, this broke David’s heart to pieces. So the next moment he was shattered beyond limit.

King David felt everything. The sorrows. The anxiety. The fear of losing a powerbroker to a traitor. David felt everything now.

Then he feared Ahithophel’s wits. For he would work for the camp of his enemy. So he feared the morrow. He feared Ahithophel.

Yet in the height of that distress, David trudged on towards Mount Olive. He looked at his kingly self which fled from a son, then he lost it in the height of his misery.

Right then he put off his sandals; took off his glorious crown, too; then he carried his footwear on the scalp of his head.

He mourned and sorrowed with sighs no man could stand. It was a sorry sight to see David mourn. For he moaned and groaned a tearless cry.

He cried. No, he prayed:

‘Turn the counsel of Ahithophel to folly, O God! O, turn the wisdom of Ahithophel to foolishness!’

That evening, the silent clouds shook with the tears of a wretched soul.

And the King of Heaven bowed down to earth to listen.

That evening, the fate of a traitor was decided.

For the fall of the crafty is their craftiness.

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