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Narrator
Previously on the Chosen People. David's exile had brought him to the doorstep of his enemies. Gath was a city of giants. Not just in men, but in stone and steel.
Eliab
We have him. King David the giant slayer. Took 10 of us to wrestle him down.
David
I can't be the giant slayer. I have to be someone else. Something else.
Narrator
David was crouched in the corner, naked, his body shivering with feverish tremors. His fingernails scraped against the stone, carving meaningless symbols into the walls.
King of Moab / Gad (Prophet) / Jesse (David's father)
You didn't tell me he'd gone mad, my king.
Eliab
He fought like a lion when we took him. He was not like this before.
King of Moab / Gad (Prophet) / Jesse (David's father)
If I wanted a raving fool in my hallways, I would have plucked one from the alleyways. Get rid of him. He's not worth the trouble. There'd be no glory in keeping him or killing him.
Narrator
For all his cun, for all his victories, he had done things he never thought he would. He had stolen, lied, played the fool. What other compromises would he make to survive?
David
Lord, sustain me.
Narrator
David sat upon the jagged ledge outside his cave, watching as the last light of day bled into the hills of Judah. He closed his eyes and listened. Not for the wind nor the shifting of the rocks. He listened for the voice of God. Since fleeing from Gath, the caves of Adullam had become his refuge. The jagged cliffs and dark hollows shielded him from sore spies and the reach of his enemies.
David
You, O God, will send out your steadfast love and faithfulness. My soul is in the midst of lions. I lie down amid fiery beasts. Their teeth are spears and arrows. Their tongues are sharp swords seeking to slay my heart. Yet you are exalted, O God, above the heavens. Let your glory be over all the earth.
Narrator
David opened his eyes and lifted his hands toward the heavens. Tears streaked his dirt stained cheeks. A slow smile broke through the weariness on his face. The weight had not vanished. His enemies were still many, his troubles still great. But he was not alone in them. By now, the caves of Adullam had become more than a hiding place. They were his home. The fire pit of stacked stones in the center, the drying pelts of deer strung along the walls. The spears he had sharpened and set carefully against the rock. Every detail was the work of his own hands. A life built in the shadows of exile. David knelt before the fire, feeding it with dry wood. He listened to the gentle crackle, letting the warmth seep into his sore muscles. His meal was simple river fish and honeycomb. But it filled his belly, and for a fleeting moment he felt content. Then came the footsteps. David was on his feet in an instant, sword drawn. The fire cast flickering shadows against the cave walls as a lone figure stood at the entrance, FL framed in the morning light.
David
Not another step.
Narrator
David's voice rang through the cave, bouncing off the stone like a warhorn. He stepped forward, sword raised.
David
Show yourself with your hands up.
Narrator
The figure lifted his hands. Behind him, more shapes emerged, nine in total. David shifted his stance, his grip tightening. Ten against one. He had faced worse odds. His breath steadied, his muscles coiled, ready to strike. He surged forward, his sword gleaming in the firelight.
David
No, David. No.
Narrator
It's us. The voices hit him like a wall. David halted his charge, his pulse pounding in his ears. As his eyes adjusted, he saw the figures clearly for the first time. The woman stepped forward. Her face was soft and familiar. His mother. David's sword slipped from his fingers, clattering against the stone. He ran to her, wrapping her in his arms, his body racked with silent sobs. He clutched her like a child lost in the dark. Behind her stood his father, Jesse, his brothers, his sisters, his blood. David pulled back, wiping his eyes.
David
Why are you here? It's not safe for you to be with me. You must go home.
Narrator
We can't go home.
David
King Solo has his. Did he harm you? He threatened our lives, but we left before he could act on his words. Your friend Jonathan told us where we could find you.
Narrator
Jesse's voice was hoarse and hollow. He led them into the cave, showing them the place he had carved out for himself.
David
It isn't much, but I've made it my home.
Narrator
They sat by the fire, speaking of the kingdom, of Saul's fury, of whispers in the streets.
Joshua Beam (Jashabim)
Everyone's wondering where you are, David. The king's armies murmur about you. Some remain loyal to Saul. Others. Others call you the true king.
David
Yeah. The Philistines also called me the true king as I moaned in a prison cell. These titles giant slayer and king only worsened my standing with Saul.
Joshua Beam (Jashabim)
You've caused a great stir in Israel, brother. The elders are divine. Some demand your head. Others whisper that Saul's should be taken instead.
Narrator
David watched them carefully. His brothers had never been his allies. He had spent his youth as the outcast, the runt, the forgotten son of Jesse. Could he trust them now? His eyes flicked across the fire to Jesse. His father sat slumped over, his face worn, defeated.
David
And what do you say, Father?
Narrator
Jesse lifted his head. His eyes were weary, empty.
David
It's no longer matters what I think, David. I have been wrong about many things.
Eliab
I've.
Narrator
I've lost the right to speak David studied him. His father, the man who had cast him aside, now sat humbled before him. For a moment, David relished in his father's regret. The wounded child in David wanted him to feel ashamed. Jesse had a sour relationship with David's mother and had always treated David as an outcast because of it. But David's cold thoughts of spite melted under the warmth of God's compassionate spirit within him.
David
I'll help you, but you'll have to do what I say. Is that possible for you?
Narrator
Jesse held back a snarl. David's throat tightened, but he said nothing. He allowed his father to stew, then resign his will.
David
I'll do what you say, David. Son.
Narrator
The morning mist hung low in the trees, curling like smoke around the trunks and clinging to the damp earth. David crouched beneath a cypress, his breath rising in thin clouds before his face. His fingers curled tight around the bow he had carved from the same wood his brothers fanned out through the forest, each with orders to stay silent. Somewhere through the haze, a deer emerged, grazing, unaware. David held his breath, drew back the string, and sent the arrow flying. A direct hit. David was approaching his kill when a voice shattered the calm. Eliab's shout rang out through the forest. David wheeled around, sprinting toward him. He found Eliab standing at the base of an old oak, sword drawn and pressed to the throat of a stranger. Pinned against the bark. David drew his own blade without hesitation. The stranger stood unmoving, unflinching even with two swords leveled at his neck. David's eyes narrowed. A man who didn't fear the bite of steel was either a fool or someone who'd stared down death too many times to care. The stranger's clothes were ragged, his breastplate scuffed and dented from years of hard use. Dirt streaked his face, his beard wild and unkempt. But there was something fierce in his eyes, a fire that had not gone out.
David
Who are you?
Narrator
The man lifted his hands slowly in surrender, lowering his head in something that resembled respect.
Joshua Beam (Jashabim)
The name is Joshua Beam, my lord. Tribe of Benjamin. Not like that's done me any good these days. The knife comes. Your servant.
David
You've come a long way to bow before a man with no throne. What do you really want?
Joshua Beam (Jashabim)
I was once a man of Sol. But when my father died, I inherited his his debts. When I could not pay, my land was taken. The king has no use for a man without silver or status. So he so he cast me out.
Narrator
His voice cracked with bitterness, but it carried no self pity.
Joshua Beam (Jashabim)
I heard whispers that the giant slayer himself had become a fugitive, hiding in the caves of Adullam. The men kept it a tight secret, far, far from the ears of Sol. But that doesn't mean he won't find you. I came to pledge my sword to you, Lord David.
David
Look around you. I'm no lord.
Joshua Beam (Jashabim)
Nevertheless, you are the hope of Israel. It would be my honor to fight for you.
Narrator
Eliab stepped close to David, lowering his voice.
Joshua Beam (Jashabim)
Are you sure we can trust him? Look at him. He's ragged as that stray dog. Desperation makes men dangerous.
Narrator
David sheathed his sword without a word.
David
The Lord does not see as man sees. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart. You of all people should remember that.
Narrator
David knelt, offering Jashabim his hand. He pulled the man to his feet, brushing dirt from his knees.
David
Come on, we've got a deer to collect. I hope you're not too proud to help me carry it.
Narrator
Side by side, the three men walked back through the forest to where the deer lay, David's arrow still buried in its side. They carried it back to the caves, where the fire crackled low, waiting for its next offering. As the family ate, David sat beside Jashabim, handing him his own knife to carve the meat. He watched the man closely, not just how he fought or spoke, but how he worked. While others filled their bellies and warmed their hands, Jashabim chopped wood for the fire, set stones into a new ring to contain the flames, and brushed the dirt from the cave floor. David saw it, the quiet devotion of a man who knew the weight of service, who found honour in work no one else would see. David smiled to himself. Perhaps in exile, God was gathering his true kingdom, not with the wealthy, the proud, or the mighty, but with the broken men who still knew how to serve. The shepherd of Israel had found his first mighty man. The days passed like falling leaves, one after the other, quick and quiet. In that time, David and Jashabim carved a fortress from the bones of the caves. They reinforced the entrance with sharpened stakes, built up the natural rock into defensible walls, and walked every span of the hills until the ground itself became a map in their minds. They were soldiers again. Not for Saul, but for each other. It was early when they first saw him. A man not much older than David stepped out from the trees with his family trailing behind him. The woman clutched her child close, both of them wrapped in threadbare cloaks. David and Jashabim stood with hands on their hilts, wary as wolves.
David
Where do you come from? Who do you serve.
Narrator
The man raised both hands to show he carried no threat. He was shorter than David, but broad across the chest, his frame like a stone shaped by hard labor. A sword rested at his hip.
Eliab
My name is Benaiah, from the tribe of Levi. We fled from my wife's father. He accused us of crimes we didn't commit.
Narrator
David flicked a glance at Jashabim, who nodded in approval.
David
I am David, son of Jesse.
Eliab
We know who you are. We've searched for you ever since we heard you'd gone into exile. There is no safer place in Israel than by your side.
Narrator
Benaiah turned and beckoned to his wife and child, who hurried forward with wide, fearful eyes. David knelt to greet the boy, ruffling his hair with a gentle hand. When he stood, Benaiah unsheathed his sword and drove it into the earth at David's feet. He knelt, head bowed low.
Eliab
My sword is yours, shepherd of Israel. My arm, my life, my loyalty.
David
Please, no. No. I'm no king. I'm a man with no roof, no home, and no throne. If you'll stay, stay as brothers, not as subjects.
Narrator
Words spread faster than wildfire. The shepherd hiding in Adullam had become a beacon for every man cast aside by Saul's kingdom. They came in ones and twos at first. Then they came in droves. Whole families, faces gaunt from hunger, weighed down by debts they could never repay. Lives shattered by injustice, crushed beneath the heel of Saul's maddened tyranny. They were not polished soldiers from royal garrisons. They were the bitter, the broken, the exiled. Yet David took them in. He gave them shelter, fire, and food. But more than that, he gave them purpose. They were not an army, not yet. They were something rougher and truer. A flock of misfits gathered under the staff of a shepherd who knew what it was to be cast aside. These men were his flock now, not sheep, but 600 souls. And by the grace of God, he would be their shepherd. Jashabim, Benaiah, and Abishai gathered at the mouth of the cave, the last light of day stretching thin across the hills. They had become David's closest council, his shield, his sword, his voice of reason. The fire crackled behind them, casting their shadows against the stone walls, twisting them into giants. Abishai stood with his arms crossed, his brow furrowed.
Abishai
We can't stay hidden much longer. Saul's eyes are everywhere now. Every goatherder and traveling merchant from Hebron to Jezreel has been promised silver in
Narrator
exchange for news of you, Habishai. Was the youngest of the three, Joab's younger brother and David's nephew. He had fled to find David, while his brothers Joab and Arsahel, remained under the ranks of Jonathan. There was a rare steel in Abishai. He had a heart built to defend, not just with his sword, but with his words. David loved him for that. Abishai wasn't afraid to tell a man he was cruel, selfish or wrong. David saw in him the kind of courage that couldn't be measured in battles won.
David
And where would you have us go? There are few places in all of Israel more hidden than these caves.
Joshua Beam (Jashabim)
Why hide it all? We have 600 men. Strong warriors, hunters. And desperate souls with nothing left to lose. We could carve our own kingdom out of these hills.
Narrator
All yours.
Eliab
Against Saul's armies. You stood in his ranks, Josh. You know how many men march under his banner?
Joshua Beam (Jashabim)
I like those odds.
Narrator
David said nothing, just stood there, his thumb running absently along the leather of his sling. They were right about one thing. There was no more hiding. Not for long. They had already outgrown the caves. Every week brought more exiles to their doors. For now, the Lord had kept Saul blind to David's refuge. But David knew better than to test that grace forever.
David
I fear the time for battle will come whether we want it or not. But I tell you this now. We will not raise our hands against the king. Not Saul. He's still the Lord's anointed, the one chosen to lead Israel. That honor is not ours to take from him.
Narrator
The men exchanged uneasy glances. No one spoke against him, but David could see the doubt in their faces. He couldn't blame them. Most of them had nothing but hatred for Saul. They wanted his head on a spear and his throne in flames. But David knew better. Power seized in rebellion was a curse, not a blessing. His gaze drifted beyond the circle of men to where his mother sat weaving baskets beside his sisters. His father, Jesse, sat nearby, silent and slumped, staring at the fire as if it held the sum of all his regrets. David's heart ached at the sight of them.
David
Whatever happens next, my family must not be caught in the storm. They need us a safe haven.
Narrator
Bethlehem?
David
No. That's the first place Saul would send his men. Moab isn't far from here. My great grandmother was a Moabite. Their blood runs through our veins. Surely they'll not refuse us sanctuary.
Joshua Beam (Jashabim)
Then we'll go with you. The roads are crawling with souls, men. You'll need swords at your back.
Narrator
David lowered his head, biting the inside of his cheek to keep the tears at bay. He. He didn't deserve friends like this. They made him think of Jonathan, the friend he'd left behind in the halls of madness. He looked up, his throat tight, and nodded.
David
We leave before sunrise. Let the night hide our steps.
Narrator
And with that, the decision was made. The shepherd would once again lead his flock not to pastures, but through the dark roads toward Moab, to safety, or to whatever fate the Lord had written for them. The sun was still low on the horizon when David and his men set out with his family. Jashabim and Abishai led the front, Benaiah at the rear, his sharp eyes scanning the hills for trouble. Five miles ahead lay Moab, a land of hard faces and hard hearts, a people with blood stained memories of war against Israel. But David was no ordinary Hebrew. The name David carried weight there, the boy who slew Goliath. The warrior who once showed mercy to Moabite men when no one would have questioned him for cutting them down. And there was the matter of his blood, too. His great grandmother Ruth had come from this land. Perhaps the old stories would soften Moabite hearts. Or perhaps they wouldn't. Either way, there were few roads left open to him. David glanced at Abishai.
David
Go ahead of me. Slip through the city before we arrive. Tell the king who comes to him and why. If you reach him first, perhaps our welcome will be warmer.
Narrator
Abishai gave a sharp nod, said no more, and sprinted ahead, his silhouette swallowed by the trees and stone. Abishai reached Moab by dusk. The border guards were dull eyed and lazy at their post, watching the roads with all the attention of bored children. Havishai slipped past them easily, ducking into the narrow alleys leading toward the palace. The city stank of spice and dung. Near the palace walls, a cluster of stable hands corralled the king's camels, muttering as they worked. Without hesitation, Abishai joined them, grabbing a rope and pulling one of the beasts into place. He moved with the ease of a man who belonged there, and no one questioned him. Just like that, he was inside the gates. The palace itself was low and squat, built from stone that had long since darkened with soot and age. Abishai slipped into a side window, landing in the warmth of the palace bakery. The servants inside gawked, but Abishai held a finger to his lips.
Abishai
I'm no thief. I need the king quickly.
Narrator
Instead of the king, the guards came, just as Abishai hoped. He offered no resistance when they bound his wrists, dragging him through halls lined with old tapestries and the heavy scent of incense and roasted goat. They threw him at the foot of the throne, and Abishai found himself looking up at the King of Moab.
King of Moab / Gad (Prophet) / Jesse (David's father)
Speak. Say the wrong words and I'll have your tongue.
Abishai
I come on behalf of David, Son of Jesse. He seeks sanctuary for his family. King Saul hunts them.
King of Moab / Gad (Prophet) / Jesse (David's father)
And why sneak like a thief to tell me this? Why not come himself?
Abishai
He's on his way. David has many eyes on him. To walk into your city is to invite death on your doorstep. He sends me ahead to beg for your favor.
Narrator
The king leaned back, thick fingers drumming against the arm of his throne.
King of Moab / Gad (Prophet) / Jesse (David's father)
David showed me mercy once, but I owe his kin nothing.
Abishai
His great grandmother was Ruth, the daughter of Moabite royalty. Moabite born Moabite blood. You'd be welcoming back your own flesh.
Narrator
The king said nothing for a long time. He muttered something in another language, and one of his guards approached Abishai with a drawn knife. Abishai tensed, ready to fight for his life if need be. But the guard only sliced the ropes from his wrists.
King of Moab / Gad (Prophet) / Jesse (David's father)
Go tell David his kin will have shelter here. My men will meet you at the the border and escort them quietly inside. It will be a feast in their honor.
Narrator
But the king leaned forward on his throne, eyes glowing red in the firelight. He was a friend for now, but a foe lingered in the shadows of his heart.
King of Moab / Gad (Prophet) / Jesse (David's father)
If another of your men sneaks into my city again, I'll carve out his liver and toss it into the snake pits.
Narrator
Abishai nearly choked on his own breath, but bowed low.
Abishai
As you say, good king.
Narrator
Two miles outside the city, the Moabite guards met David and his family. David clasped each of their hands in thanks and went. When they entered the king's hall, David and the king embraced like old comrades.
David
Thank you. I do not know if my road ends in glory or death, but my heart is lighter knowing my family will be safe.
King of Moab / Gad (Prophet) / Jesse (David's father)
My debt is paid. This is the final favor you receive from me, giant slayer. Next time we meet, it may be the battle is clashing kings.
Narrator
Abishai's face paled at the king's warning, but Jashabim clapped him on the back and laughed.
Joshua Beam (Jashabim)
You played that all smoothly, but be me honest. Was that. Was that terrifying?
Abishai
I nearly soiled myself twice.
Narrator
They left the palace the that night, David's family safe behind Moabite walls. The four men, David, Jashabim, Benaiah, and Abishai, set camp in the hills. Before the night's end, they lit a small fire, shared their rations and stretched their aching legs. Abishai fell asleep as soon as his head hit the ground, but David sat awake, poking the fire with a stick, listening to the night hum around them. Benaiah took first watch, leaning against a boulder, sharpening his blade in the flickering light. The scrape of steel on stone was the only sound until Benaiah glanced up and froze. An old man sat across the fire, hands folded, face serene. Benaiah scrambled to his feet, sword in hand.
Eliab
Wake up.
Narrator
David's eyes shot open and his sword was in his hand. Before he could fully rise, Jasherbeam and Benaiah stirred behind him, but the old man raised his hands in peace.
King of Moab / Gad (Prophet) / Jesse (David's father)
Be calm, David, son of Jesse. I am Gad, prophet of the Lord. I come with a word.
Narrator
David lowered his blade and sat slowly.
King of Moab / Gad (Prophet) / Jesse (David's father)
You must leave this stronghold. The caves are no longer safe. You must go to the land of Judah. There the Lord will show you what comes next.
Narrator
David bowed his head.
David
As the Lord commands.
Narrator
The old man smiled and stood, turning away from the fire, walking back into the night as quickly, quietly as he had come. David sighed and called out, what is the Lord doing?
David
What is my destiny? I need to know.
Narrator
The prophet turned before disappearing into the night. The faint glow of the coals illuminated his aged face.
King of Moab / Gad (Prophet) / Jesse (David's father)
Destiny, my dear boy, there is no destiny. There is only the Lord's. It is not a mountain to climb or a treasure to find. He calls and you answer. As you do, you become who you were always meant to be.
Narrator
The prophet departed, leaving David pondering. At dawn, David roused his men. They packed their camp in silence and left the caves of Adullam behind. They travelled south, skirting villages and staying in the woods. In time they found the forest of Hereth, a tangle of thick trees and hidden trails. They built shelters, carved defences, and made it their own. The flock of outcasts had become a militia, and David, whether he would admit it or not, was their king. All that was left was to wait for the next command from the Lord, the command to rise or the command to fight.
Production Announcer
This pray.com production is only made possible by our dedicated team of creative talents. Steve Cattina, Max Bard, Zach Shellavager and Ben Gammon are the executive producers of the Chosen People. Narrated by Paul Coltofianu Characters are voiced by Jonathan Cotton, Aaron Salvato, Sarah Seltz, Mike Reagan, Steven Ringwald, Sylvia zaradoc, Thomas Copeland Jr. Rosanna Pilcher and Mitch Leschinsky. Music by Andrew Morgan Smith Written by Aaron Salvato, Bree Rosalie and Chris Baig. You can hear more pre.com productions on the prey.com app available on the Apple App Store and Google Play Store. If you enjoyed the chosen people, please rate and leave a review.
This episode of The Chosen People, hosted by Pray.com, explores David's journey through exile, transformation from outcast to leader, and the early formation of his band of mighty men while on the run from King Saul. Set against the backdrop of the caves of Adullam and the perilous road to Moab, the episode powerfully dramatizes how David, stripped of power and comforts, finds kinship, repentance, and faith among the rejected and broken souls who rally to his side. The narrative highlights the tension between vengeance and faithfulness, the search for purpose amidst suffering, and the foundations of true leadership.
"David and The Outcasts" skillfully dramatizes the gathering of David's mighty men and the founding of a kingdom-in-exile. It delves into themes of humility, faith, and the forging of true community—not through conquest, but through shared adversity and obedience to God's unexpected calling. This episode is a profound meditation on leadership, legacy, and the redemptive power of accepting misfits and outcasts, echoing ancient lessons for modern listeners.