Uriah, the faithful Hittite, took his own death warrant in his hands and rode toward Rabbah.
Uriah’s answer was a hammer on an anvil. “The ark of Israel and the army of Judah are living in tents. My lord Joab and my master’s men are camped in the open field. How could I go to my own house to eat, drink, and lie with my wife? As surely as you live, I will not do such a thing.” samuel 11
The evening air over Jerusalem was thick with the scent of jasmine and dust. From the rooftop of the royal palace, the city sprawled below like a patchwork quilt of shadow and fading gold. It was spring, the time when kings go to war. But King David was not with his army. He had sent Joab and the mighty men to besiege the Ammonite city of Rabbah, while he remained in the comfort of his house. Uriah, the faithful Hittite, took his own death
The words were a blade. David’s mind, so sharp in battle, scrambled for an escape. He would craft a lie so simple, so human, that no one would suspect. He would make it appear that the child was Uriah’s own. My lord Joab and my master’s men are
A messenger rode back to Jerusalem with the news of the battle. “The enemy came out against us,” he reported. “Some of the king’s servants are dead. Your servant Uriah the Hittite is also dead.”
David listened, his face a mask. To the messenger, he said coldly, “Tell Joab not to let this trouble him. The sword devours one as well as another. Strengthen the attack against the city and overthrow it.”
But Uriah did not go home. He slept at the palace gate, wrapped in his cloak, with the king’s servants.