The King Who Could Not Sleep and the Woman Named Aendor

There was once a king whose heart had grown hollow with fear. The voice of God no longer answered him, not in dreams, not through a living prophet, not by sacred sign. Once, he had walked with purpose. Now the king wandered in dread.

His name was Saul, and his realm was slipping from his hands. A formidable people had gathered like a black tide upon the hills of Shunem, and Saul’s spirit trembled. He inquired of the Lord, but the Lord gave no reply.

So, beneath a clouded moon, Saul set aside his royal robes and crown. With two men beside him, he rode into the outer lands, past the borders of what was lawful, and into the country of forgotten things.

He came to a house with crooked beams and weatherworn shutters, resting at the foot of a low hill. There lived a woman named Aendor. She was called a medium, a whisperer, even a conjurer of the dead. Once, Saul had driven such women from the land. Now he came to her in secret.

Aendor met him at the doorway, her eyes like dusk, her hands marked with ash and herbs.

“Behold, my friend,” she said, already sensing his purpose. “You know what Saul has done. He has cast out those who speak with spirits, and those called wizards, from the land. Why do you set a trap for me, to bring about my death?”

But Saul swore to her by the Lord whose voice he no longer heard. “As the Lord lives,” he said, “no harm shall come to you for this, not from me, not from the king, not from the Lord.”

She studied him for a long time, then stepped aside and let him in. She asked him plainly, “Whom shall I bring up for you?”

He answered, “Bring me Samuel.”

So Aendor turned her will to the world beneath. She called out with power, and a vision rose. An old man appeared, or perhaps something more, wrapped in a mantle of authority. He rose from the earth like smoke from dying embers. When Aendor saw the spirit clearly, she knew the man before her was Saul. She trembled, for she could never have summoned a prophet on her own.

“Why have you deceived me?” she whispered.

Saul said nothing. His eyes were fixed on the figure before him.

And Samuel spoke. “Why have you disturbed me by calling me up?”

Saul bowed low. “I am in great distress,” he said. “Our enemies rise against me, and God has turned away. He answers me no more, not through prophets, not in dreams. So I have called on you to tell me what I must do, as you once did.”

But the dead do not flatter, and prophets cannot lie.

Samuel replied, “Why do you ask me, when the Lord has left you and stands against you? He has taken the kingdom from your hand and given it to another. Because you did not obey His voice, He has done this today, just as I told you before. And more than that, He will deliver Israel into the hand of your enemy. By tomorrow, you and your sons will be with me.”

At these words, Saul collapsed. He lay full length on the floor, drained of strength.

But Aendor, who had feared the king, now saw only a broken man. She came to him not as a conjurer, but with the tenderness of a mother for a child.

“Behold,” she said gently, “I have listened to you. I placed my life in your hands and did what you asked. Now please, listen to me. Let me give you some bread. Eat, so you will have strength for the road ahead.”

At first Saul refused. “I will not eat,” he murmured. But his servants and the woman urged him.

So Aendor prepared what little she had—a tender calf from her own herd, fresh flour, and simple bread without leaven. She served it to him with worn hands. And the king who had once silenced prophets and cast out witches sat at her table and was fed.

When morning came, Saul rose and walked into the pale light, toward the battlefield and the fate he had been shown.

And Aendor watched him go. Her name was never written in the scrolls of kings beyond this one tale, but perhaps she is known in heaven for her wisdom, her craft, and most of all, her kindness.