Queen of Sheba (32 page)

Solomon knew that what Nathan said was true, but there had been one question bothering him and it had blotted out all other plans and strategies. “If God has rejected me as king,” he asked, “is it even worth trying? Won’t everything I do fail?”

“The kingdom is not to be lost during your lifetime. It would also be well to remember that some of the greatest blessings have come through those who have failed but didn’t give up.”

Solomon was unconvinced. “Name some,” he said.

“Well, Abraham took Hagar because he didn’t quite believe the promise; Jacob stole his brother’s birthright; Joseph was such a braggart he got thrown out by his brothers; Moses killed an Egyptian and …”

“Enough. That’s enough. What does that have to do with my going down to the winter palace in Jericho?”

Solomon was so serious, Nathan had to laugh. “Well, sometimes it’s hard for God to bless people when they sit around depressed.”

“So you think I might miss some good thing if I don’t personally go greet this queen?”

“I don’t know. I’m just saying that if you want blessings, you have to be looking for them, expecting them almost.”

Solomon had already ordered vast preparations to be made for the queen’s visit. A camping area had been set aside for her caravan on Mount Olivet, a new house had been added to and refurnished for her within the palace gardens, the royal treasury had been searched for appropriate gifts, and several tours of the chariot cities planned. All these preparations had been made by Solomon’s able body of servants so that Solomon had done very little real thinking about her visit.

Now Nathan’s words struck a chord of hope. He didn’t even know what he was hoping for, he just knew that he would go down to Jericho and meet this queen who had traveled so far to see him. “Badget says she is coming to ask questions. She wants to know what truth is. Have you ever heard of a woman thinking about truth?”

Nathan laughed. “Not in all your harem is there one woman asking such a question. This queen must be unusual.”

“Probably ugly, balding, and remember the feet.”

“She can’t be that bad. Hadad was trying to marry her.”

Solomon shrugged and smiled. He didn’t say any more, but when he returned to his palace, he ordered preparations for the visit to the winter palace in Jericho.

The winter palace was Solomon’s favorite retreat. Because the weather was always temperate, the palace was open to the sun and fresh air. There were covered walkways and latticed balconies that opened onto a lush formal garden. There were fountains and pools shaded by palm trees, while every now and then a peacock could be seen with feathers unfurled against the deep green foliage.

As soon as he arrived he found a message waiting for him. The queen had accepted his invitation to be a guest in the winter palace and she would be arriving that evening. However, as she was feeling indisposed she asked that there be no ceremony.

He wondered what she meant by “no ceremony” and finally concluded that he need not order a great feast or plan a celebration. He would simply meet her, welcome her, and put her into the hands of his chief steward and the servants who would carry out her slightest wish.

Later that day, just before sunset, he was on one of his balconies talking to some emissaries from Rabbath Amman when a wild flourish of trumpets announced the queen’s caravan. He quickly dismissed the men
and went to view the arrival. He noticed that she had left a large part of her entourage outside the city and brought only her own serving maidens, some counselors, and her bodyguard with her.

It was easy to recognize her howdah. Solomon had never seen anything like it. It was covered in gold embroidered cloth set about with precious stones, and the harness and fittings on her camel were all of gold and rubies. Light from the setting sun glinted and sparkled from its dazzling surface until it seemed almost a vision of ethereal radiance.

Solomon was fascinated. He moved out to the balustrade of the balcony so he could see her when she dismounted. “What kind of creature must it be that would come wrapped in such a splendid cocoon?” he thought.

He hurried down the marble stairs and then walked with dignity befitting his kingly position out to the steps leading down to the drive. He was just in time to see the driver jump down and order the camel to kneel.

There was only a pause and then the curtains were parted from inside. Solomon noticed nothing but the woman that looked out at him. He who had seen many princesses and hundreds of beautiful women was for a moment spellbound. One small, jeweled hand still held the embroidered curtain, and the golden ornaments that framed her face made a pleasant tinkling sound as she leaned forward to view the new surroundings. Then she noticed him. Their eyes met and held briefly as her face registered delight. “And you are Solomon’s brother, Nathan,” she said to cover her embarrassment.

Solomon remembered that with the invitation he had told her his brother would be her host. He was about to explain that he wasn’t Nathan when he changed his mind and made a quick decision. Perhaps it would be better for the moment to let her think he wasn’t the king. Maybe then they wouldn’t drift into the formal aloofness he so despised.

He smiled the relaxed, boyish smile that had over the years endeared him to so many and reached for her hand to help her alight. The servants were surprised. They had never seen the king so forget himself as to help someone down from a mount. For a moment he stood holding her hand and again their eyes met in wonder and fascination. She wasn’t more beautiful than dozens of women in his harem, but there was something of openness, excitement, and zest for life that radiated from her, and he was immediately captivated.

He found himself wanting to stay by her side instead of retreating to his quarters as he had planned. He was glad the steward had ordered an impressive repast.

To everyone’s surprise he stayed and exhibited uncommon devotion to the queen. He sat beside her, his elbow unconsciously resting on the same armrest, his eyes brightening when he looked at her, and an animation in his voice that hadn’t been heard in a long time.

The repast was being held on one of the wide balconies. The air was fresh and pleasant with the fragrance of tuberoses, birds called to each other in the trees and as the sun slowly disappeared, torches were lit along the wall. The moon rose over the tall palm near the gate, and laughter could be heard from one end of the group to the other.

The food was spread out on finely woven, gold-washed reed mats in golden dishes. The officials the queen had brought with her, including Rydan, Tamrin, and Il Hamd, sat on ordinary long cushions that lined each side of the woven centerpiece. Though they couldn’t hear what was being said, they were obviously astounded by the animation of their queen in the company of this Hebrew.

When the light meal was over and the guests were ready to retire, both Solomon and the queen seemed reluctant to part. It was only when she noticed her maidens waiting patiently with their small lamps all lit that she brought the conversation to a close. Solomon, for his part, stood watching them go down the long hall and didn’t move until the lights had at last vanished into the room.

Back in his own quarters he puzzled over all that had happened. Of course she still thought he was Nathan, and it would be difficult now to tell her any differently. He wondered how the evening would have gone if she had known he was the king. He also wondered if she was always as animated, as vitally alive. He had gotten so carried away that he had to admit he hadn’t even looked at her feet. In fact, as well as he could remember, he hadn’t noticed much of anything but her wonderfully expressive eyes, her full, curving mouth, and her slightly exposed shoulders.

He felt such a mixture of strange, unfamiliar emotions he had trouble understanding what was happening. He couldn’t really analyze what he was feeling. There was a great fascination with everything she said or did, and then there was an overwhelming desire to be intimate with this
woman. To possess her in every way. This frightened him.

She was no ordinary woman. She was a queen, and a pagan queen at that. After the reprimand in the temple, he had resolved never to marry another pagan woman. He felt just about as strongly about marrying a queen. One didn’t possess queens. They possessed you.

He resolved to quench the fire while it was still possible. He even considered getting up early and riding back to Jerusalem. Then he realized it would be very inhospitable. He remembered for the first time that evening that he desperately needed this woman’s backing if he was to combat the coalition.

For a moment he wished that it really had been Nathan that had come down to Jericho. Then just as quickly he realized that if Nathan had come he himself would have been back in his palace in Jerusalem battling his depression and sense of failure.

No, he decided, he wouldn’t trade this one evening for anything, but he must remember to be careful. He felt utterly vulnerable. In just these few short hours this woman had brought him out of the most desperate depression and had pitched him into such a turmoil of emotions that he was thoroughly disturbed. Nothing like this had ever happened to him before. His one love, the Shulamite maiden, had been sincere and beautiful but immature compared with this. This emotion was not something an experienced man like himself should be feeling. It was too much for one his age to handle.

He let his serving men help him undress and then pull back the curtains of his bed. His bed was a welcome retreat. He hoped that with the clear light of morning this madness would have dissipated.

He tossed and turned and tried to forget her eyes, her laughter, her delightful way of seeming both shy and yet forceful. Suddenly in the midst of these memories he had a fearful thought. He sat up in the bed and rubbed his eyes, ran his fingers through his hair, and wrestled with this thought that was so new for him. “What,” he thought, “will I do if she doesn’t feel the same toward me? Surely I can’t endure such a thing.” This too was a new thought for him. In recent years he had thought more often of whether he liked a woman rather than whether she liked him.

The next morning he rose early and went out into the formal garden. He needed to clear his mind, needed to remember he was dealing with a queen who held the fate of Israel in her hands. This could be no pleasant dalliance. He breathed deeply of the invigorating air and walked down the path to the grape arbor.

Suddenly his attention was drawn to a line of ants that crossed his path and wound their way to a sandy spot near the trellis. He stooped down and watched. Ants always fascinated him. They worked so hard. They never seemed to rest, and they would tackle the most impossible feats. Now he pulled out a small crust of bread he had saved for his pet crow and, breaking off a small piece, put it in the ants’ path.

“I’ve always found ants to be most interesting.” The voice was soft and melodious.

He would have known that voice anywhere. He turned and saw that the queen was standing on the path with one of her maidens shielding her from the morning sun with one of the elaborate plumed fans used by the Egyptians. He stood up and smiled. “If my people worked as hard,” he said, “the whole world would be a paradise.”

They laughed and then both stooped down to see if the ant would really carry away the little piece of bread. “How small they are,” she said. “They should be afraid we’ll step on them, but they don’t seem to even know we exist.”

Solomon let one of the little creatures crawl onto his finger. They both stood up and watched him make his way round and round the finger. “It is only Elohim, our creator God, who could make such a perfect creature this size.”

“Elohim? Is that the name of your God?”

“That is the name we give Him when we think of Him as creator.”

“I don’t understand.”

Solomon stood looking at her for a long moment before he spoke. “We have many names for the same God. Each time he shows himself it is in a different way and we add another name. When we see that He fights for us He is El Shaddai, the Almighty, when he provides for us He is Jehovah-Jireh, when He heals us, Jehovah Rapha. There are more.”